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#only because the greater good of bringing the detective happiness
deathfavor · 1 year
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✦✦ character outline
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flaws
moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | overthinker | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | perfectionist | pessimistic | naive
strengths
honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendly | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny
skills & hobbies
art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | belly dancing | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather-working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting / sewing | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling | exotic dancing | singing | yoga | gaming | surfing
tagged by : @furiaei (thank you so much!! ) tagging : @anomieheld ; @empulse ; @yeonban ; @ofpathways ; @ofsavior​ ; @aghasts​ ; @burntprose​
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stealingyourbones · 2 years
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Prompt:
Sam knew she was conceived before her parents marriage, but she never realized that that meant the father who raised her and her bio father might be different people. It's only now, after her parent's death, that she finds out she's the daughter of Dick Grayson, famed Gotham playboy.
In other news, Sam has, for several years now, been trying to figure out how to punch Nightwing in the face for being the one to dismiss Amity Park as a hoax in the Justice League database, preventing them from receiving help.
Now Dick's daughter that he didn't know he had is trying to murder him with evil magical plants screaming about how he's the reason her best friend had to work himself to the bone to protect their town, and Jason has a new favorite niece.
Oh this has been just hanging in my inbox for ages but hOLY shit this is some brilliant stuff right here. Sam being Dick’s daughter? That could be really fun to work with.
Dick is FLOORED when he finally connects the dots and is told that he has a daughter. He’s slightly distracted by this while Sam berates him.
‘You’re a fucking detective and you didn’t think for a moment to research this town that claimed to experience extradimensional attacks of hostile entities that are supposedly ghosts?! YOU HAVE ALIENS ON YOUR TEAM AND AN UNDEAD BROTHER?! Do you have any idea. Any at all how hard it is to take care of someone who’s so willing to throw it all away for the greater good?”
Nightwing saying that he does know because of Batman and Sam just INSTANTLY cutting him off.
“NO! No you don’t. That was a grown ass man who kept himself stuck in the grief of his parents death that he dresses up as a fucking bat and fights crime. I had to kill my best friend for a second time because I knew that not a single League member would come and help us. I had to watch as a boy who literally could not stop himself from taking action. Do you know how much pressure he was under?“
Ooo definitely also stuff like “you have no idea how many sleepless nights i had where I just called the JL hotline begging for someone to pick up as I cried to the echo of the cheery hold music that was a lie. No one was ever going to pick up but I hoped that someone would answer.”
Dick is distraught. He fucked up big time. He does what he normally does: run away for a tad.
It takes him a long time to wrap his head around having a kid and how badly he fucked up her life. He didn’t even know she existed and somehow he still managed to fuck up her life unintentionally.
EVENTUALLY Sam gets along with her bio dad. It takes a LONG time but eventually Dick genuinely apologizes and tells her that he had no idea that it was that bad and he should have done better. She absolutely sticks to Damian and Jason more before she warms up to Dick. (Mostly cause they’re the edgier and more ‘I’m my own self fuck u all’ batfam members).
Ooo and Ya know how Damian is with animals? Yeah that’s Sam with plants. Dick’s and Jason’s apartment are eventually absolutely FILLED with plants. She helps teach the two how to germinate plants and it becomes a nice bonding activity. (Oh and Jason absolutely brings Sam to the range for Uncle and Niece bonding experiences. Dick doesn’t approve but is happy how gleeful Sam is to learn from Jason.)
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vendetta-if · 2 years
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What does our dear old gramps think about the ROs? And our dearest daddy too, if he was still around? I feel like he'd be giving them the shovel talk even if he left the life of crime a long time ago 😆
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Another Grandpa ask! 😄 Strap in! This will be a little bit long.
Grandpa:
Ash: Would give his blessing 👍🏻 He admires and approves of Ash’s ruthlessness and tenacity, and of course, the most important which is their undying loyalty to MC.
Rin: Would give his double blessings 😂 Not only because MC’s marriage to Rin will tie the Aikawas to the Morozovs with something stronger than the promise of mutual benefits, but also Rin is smart, pragmatic, and level-headed and he admires those qualities a lot. Together, perhaps MC and Rin would be able to build upon what he had achieved and bring both families to an even greater height.
Santana: Not approve 🤨 His grandchild, with a police officer? Not only are they only a detective, but also one shunned by their whole department too. They would not be able to bring much value to the family. MC can do better, surely…
Skylar: Doubtful 🤨 He doesn’t like Skylar’s goody-two shoes attitude, vanity, and naïveté… not to mention, they are also pursuing career as a superhero. The only redeeming thing from a marriage with Skylar is the connection to their important family.
Yvette: Doesn’t like her. He has not personally met her yet and only heard what Luka told him. But he sees her as one of the reasons why Viktor didn’t want to return to his family, despite Luka’s and Cara’s constant persuasions. Dislikes her even more when he found out that she declined Viktor’s offer to start family and broke his son’s heart by leaving him. The only good thing about her to him is that she gave Viktor MC, who was the source of Viktor’s happiness 🥲
Viktor
Ash: Yes! Viktor will be the conductor of the shipping-train 😂 To Viktor, Ash has always been a polite kid to him and MC’s one true friend. He is thankful of Ash for spending so much time with MC and makes them laugh and be happy 😊 Doesn’t need any shovel talk from him 👍🏻
Rin: Hesitant… Are you sure, MC? You’re not feeling pressured by Takashi’s insistence, right? You really love them? Alright… Viktor will be worried because they know MC will get dragged back in into the life that he had ran away from. But if MC truly wants it, then he’ll willingly go back to his own family too and support MC as best as he can. Rin will get a lighter shovel talk about making sure that their main priority now is MC and making them happy.
Santana: Nothing strong in particular. Viktor has never met them before, but they seem like a decent person with good ideals and admirable resolve. Get a shovel talk about making MC happy as well.
Skylar: Worry and dread… They’re charming and a little bit vain just like Yvette was when he first met her… But at least, they really seem to care about helping and saving people… but he is still reluctant about their career as a superhero. But if MC really like them… They’ll get the most serious and harshest shovel talk out of all the ROs. Viktor wants to make sure his baby won’t feel the same heartbreak as he once did.
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ccornersstone · 5 months
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Bounce back
major Spoilers for criminal case the conspiracy and major trigger warnings for talk of suicide
David wasn’t surprised by a lot of things now, being working as a homicide detective for quite a few years does that to you. Maybe he would’ve been concerned about the lack of reactions on his end but there was always something he was almost thankful for immediately bouncing back through everything. He’d learned it in childhood, don’t dwell on things - there was no use for them, they didn’t change or stop anything and life went on. It would find a way. 
Watching your boss shoot himself in the head - surely, would mess someone up, right? Maybe it did. Maybe he looked at his gun differently now even if it was his own. but he sure wouldn’t let that on, because that was his *decision*. Decisions all fell on the shoulders of the person who chose it and obviously, that was the easy way out. And maybe that’s why David had settled on it himself later. And maybe it’s the stupid fact that he settled on the easiest way out - which was saying something considering it was the easiest way out, or at least that’s what his father had always said. Because no matter how research increased his opinion is unwavering. You’re supposed to stick through it no matter what and if you even have second thoughts you’re weak. And attempting to act on the urge? *Coward*. David couldn’t say his mother was much better, it was taboo and you did not bring it up no matter what. And if you did, if you thought about it. Lock you up and throw away the key. 
He couldn’t even hold the gun right, his eyes shut. His hand would shake and he put it down. And the safety was still on so he wasn’t even that committed to doing it which said a lot of things he didn’t wanna speak about. He wanted to, yet he still couldn’t. It’d do the precinct and everyone else much better. He wouldn’t have to deal with the job and the complications of having relationships in his field of work, it’s the stress it puts on those relationships he’d always bounced back from. David was no stranger to failing relationships - multiple relationships in high school and following into young adulthood failed and eventually so did the longest-lasting one, Charlotte, he’d thought he’d found the one and he did. She loved him, he still thought about her from time to time and it was that love that made Charlotte put her foot down because she was tired of it. Maybe he shouldn’t have ignored it - maybe he should’ve listened and not left his responsibilities — he did that a lot, didn’t he? Not listening. Not taking responsibility. 
Yet, he still didn’t dwell on it and he bounced back. Eventually, he met Zoe and that changed a lot of things, and he was . . . Happy. Grimsburough had changed over the years and maybe it was for the worst. Nathan retired as he Couldn’t continue seeing all the death around him. David couldn’t say he blamed him, he’d wanted out for a while himself. All the death and he only saw the bodies, he didn’t dig into them like Nathan did and that opened the doors for Martine to take the job. She would regret it, and he would regret saying if she wanted to it would be good. Because it wasn’t. None of it ever was. 
None of it was worth it, was it?
what was the job worth if he couldn’t do what he’d joined for? If all the death was continuous and it kept creeping closer and closer and more personal each time. Nathan? Wasn’t that the whole reason he’d left for good, no longer joking about doing so 
. Maybe it was worthless too because he was useless to do any good in the greater scheme of things — look at Zoe, what happened. What he could’ve.. what could’ve he done. What all she’d been saying up until her disappearance and now.. he didn’t listen to her, any of what she was saying. 
She should just stay out of it, and He knew her better than that. Zoe wouldn’t just stay out of something she was upset about - she meant it helping people and now she was in this whole mess and he couldn’t do a whole lot about it .. maybe if he’d listened she wouldn’t have done as much as she did .. wouldn’t have dug so deeply. 
If he’d just taken it seriously and listened rather than brushing her off. 
~ ~ ~ 
It’s cold and the chill of the room isn’t left unknown to David, the silence had settled in the room. Zoe’s arms tightly wrapped around herself, nails pressing into her arms. “David?” Her voice is barely audible, it’s small and soft but he hears. He tilted his head towards her acknowledging her and her eyes flickered to meet his. 
Zoe swallows the lump in her throat. “Do you ever think about what you’re going to do if this… any.. of this doesn’t work out? You must have a backup plan, right?” She questions. 
David’s brows furrow in concern at this, he decides to ignore it though. “What do you mean?” 
“With me,” Zoe croaked, her eyes locked with the ground and she shuffles nervously closer to the wall and her nails dig into her arms even more it doesn’t hit her until skin breaks underneath her nails she notices but she doesn’t pay much mind to it. “All of this.. what happened.. what I did…” 
“What if it doesn’t work out? We have no reason to believe it will… it’s not just going to go away no matter how hard we- I try.” Zoe continues. “You gotta be ready if it doesn’t get better if it gets worse.” She added. 
“It can’t get any worse-“ David says, about to protest what she’s saying. Zoe frowns. He really should take a moment to think about what he was going to say. 
“You don’t know that,” Zoe spoke slowly. “And.. I... I just… I wanna know you’ll be okay if anything happens..that it’ll be okay…” 
“Zoe, please.. don’t..” David reaches out to pull Zoe closer and she hesitates. 
“You can’t just ignore the truth... it’s not getting better, David.” Zoe took a deep breath. “If something happens to me... I want you to keep going... I don’t want that to hold you back… you move on.. because you deserve not to have something holding you back..” 
“Nothing going to happen to you, Darling. I promise.” David gives her a weak smile. “And you act like it’s such a bad thing to think about you, it wouldn’t be a burden doing that.” 
“It’s different now.” Zoe hesitates, as she shuts her eyes tightly. “And it’d be different then too… you can’t say that. I know… I know how you are... how you cling to things you can’t change and it’s bad for you like that..” she reached out grabbing David’s hand in her own, cold one. Zoe’s skin pressed against David’s warmer hand. 
“You have to move on, promise me … promise that you’ll be okay? Just.. no matter what happens… I want you to be okay... we’ll still have our memories. But you need to be able to go on... I couldn’t keep on, so you need to.” Zoe squeezed David’s hand in her own tightly. “For me..” 
“Fine,” David concedes, he gives Zoe a weak smile and she seems unconvinced. “I promise, I’ll move on. I always bounce back. You know that.” He didn’t think much about it at the time, he should’ve. A lot of things he never thought much about. he didn’t listen to her, just like everyone else hadn’t. She knew something, she said she did in not so many words. Yet another thing she knew, she went to him and he brushed her off.
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joeyleesblog · 1 year
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colored band aid
Synopsis: R likes colorful band-aids because they bring back good memories. Damian hates them because they are a reminder of his failure as a friend.
Platonic! Damião and Reader.
Warning: domestic violence and child abuse.
......................................
Damian's face is such a funny frown that R can't resist the urge to laugh, which only serves to make the frown even tighter.
— Your ability to hurt yourself in such a trivial and idiotic way isn't funny, R. It's troubling. Your insistence on wearing these abominations that you insist on calling bandages is even greater. — His voice is dry as the desert and the disdain in his gaze would have once offended or intimidated her, but now it only amuses her, because she knows that all this rudeness is a mask for an underlying worry.
— You also think that drawn kitten is cute, Dami. Don't deny it.
— Tt. Its ability to recognize good artists is also very worrying.
— Would you make it more beautiful?
— I would definitely do justice to noble cats.
R laughs loud and long, so much so that her eyes water and her stomach hurts. It's genuine, not forced or the result of hysteria, but pure humor, pure fun, pure relaxation, with someone she feels comfortable and safe with. After countless laughs and forced smiles and the stress of being frequently on high alert for years, the relief and freedom of letting your guard down and not pretending anymore cannot be described in words.
And Damian, oh you grumpy kitten, is more than aware of it because his frown lessens and the corners of his mouth lift just enough to be noticed. The fact that R doesn't take her "frustration" seriously at all, but openly laughs at it, shows how much progress they are making, how close she is to overcoming the traumas caused by her father. And knowing how safe she feels with him is good, very good.
It would be a perfectly nice and comfortable time if it weren't for one little thing: bandages. It's funny how something as simple as duct tape can be such a delicate and sensitive scare between them. For Damian, it was a reminder of his failure as a friend, hero and detective for not realizing his best friend's dire home situation in time. For R, however, the colorful Band-Aids, with animal designs and the iconic face, had more than one meaning, more than the memory of a painful experience that lasted too long. They remembered their dear mother when she was alive, they remembered a time when their father wasn't the monster he had become, they remembered a time when it was all fun and happiness - the time when she was happy and untainted by tragedy.
Absently touching the pink bad aid wrapped around his index finger, R begins to speak.
— Once, while I was carrying the dishes, I accidentally dropped a glass, it broke, of course. He was at home, so in a panic I bent down to pick up the pieces with my hands and at the same time apologized and swore that I would buy a new one with my salary. As he approached, I began to cry in fear, expecting a punch or a foot to crush my hands. — Her voice grew shaky and her throat tightened, her brain viscerally experiencing that moment of fear all over again. — But instead, he gently took my bloody hands and cleaned them in the sink, then took me to the table and started treating my cuts while telling me that when he accidentally broke a body or plate his father would step on his fingers under the shards of glass. And once, when he accidentally broke Mom's favorite perfume, he'd expected the same reaction, only for Mom to gently treat his cuts and tell him it was just a bottle of perfume that could be replaced.
She remembers her father's heavy look when telling about his childhood and the look of love and sadness when he spoke of his beloved deceased wife. She remembers the hands, gentle and caring for the first time in years as they nursed her injured hands. The care and affection that she missed so much, that she yearned to return, that she did everything to return and that she hoped to get because of these sporadic moments of her father returning to being the father she remembered from childhood.
Only the next morning everything goes back to the hell it was.
R took a deep breath, trying to undo the lump in her throat so that a sob wouldn't come out of her lips, followed by another, another and another. She repeatedly blinked her eyes away from the tears before they could leave and never stop. She's so tired of her past still affecting her so much when it's been years. Argh. After a few minutes I compose myself and I'm sure I won't cry anymore, R continues.
— Because of those moments, I was hopeful that things would go back to normal and that everything was just a bad phase. she snorted.— Poor silly child that I was.
— You were a child who was manipulated by an adult who took advantage of your fragility so you wouldn't report him for the abuse he was doing to you, R.— Damian immediately counters, hated to see his best friend get mad at you. herself for that. from the actions of scum like Ralph. At that moment, Robin wanted to break into Ralph's cell and break every bone in his body.
R chose herself on the sofa, looking at the floor, sensing that what she said now would not please Damian, but she needed to vent.
— Yes, it could be, but... oh, I think that not only was he afraid that I would denounce him, I think, that he didn't want to lose me... because, I think he still loved me, despite everything. . .
— R...
- I know I know! It's crazy and it might just be a childish part of me that still wants a dad. But before Mum died, before he got involved in crime, he was good, he was a good father. He may not be a good person, but he was good to us.
Damian sighs, keeping his mouth shut so as not to start an argument that in the end won't resolve anything, just stress them both out. He seriously doubted the bastard loved his daughter after abusing and neglecting her, even before his wife's death. That cry and plea for forgiveness in court was nothing more than a pathetic attempt to get some kind of sympathy to reduce his sentence, or even more disgusting, to manipulate R into somehow paying his bail or giving him shelter when his sentence was fulfilled. Slag. He would love for his friend, now practically a sister, to see and accept that fact. However, Ralph actually did a good job of brainwashing his daughter, although it weakened when R finally stopped visiting him in prison, it didn't completely disappear. Which was frustrating, honestly.
Damian's hand shot out suddenly grabbing R's hand which was coming towards his nose, a cat-print bandage on his fingers, clearly intended for his nose. Robin raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl, who laughed.
— Just reminiscing about old times." she explained. — You were little and cute, but you were so rude.
Damian let go of her hand, taking the cat Band-Aids from her fingers and holding it between his own fingers.
— And you were a childish, immature child. Not that it still isn't, to be honest.
— Childish and immature child, who managed to catch you off guard.
— Tt. Please, I anticipated your action from the start, I was only generous in making you think you surprised me.
— Oh, I believe.
— Tt.
R laughs, relieved that the mood has lightened and pushing away the thoughts about her father, at the moment they only brought sadness and doubts that tormented her. Do not do. She would focus on the present that only made her laugh.
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lucimorningstar812 · 1 year
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ALTR 122139 Emotional Tracking
The following is a transcript of the first interview when staff at the IRIS facility housing ALTR 122139 tried to use the WTCHR system to track their fluctuations and try to understand them better
Those changes have been included in the transcript at the time they were detected
This is Dr ███████. The date is ████████ ██ 20██, the current time is ████ and I'm interviewing ALTR 122139 as part of a trial to understand how their instability works. This session involves the latest WTCHR model with a direct feed of identified emotional changes sent to my phone. Documented changes will be included in the transcript for archiving purposes. Now, good afternoon, Subject Morningstar
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[Subject is shocked]
You used my name? Well, my IRIS name I guess
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Of course. I've never been a fan of referring to intelligent ALTRs by their numerical code. It's dehumanising and very upsetting for many of the ALTRs we have here. I also see that the camera is working at least. I could see the moment I used your name, your status changed to shocked. We can proceed with the interview
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[Subject became flattered after 'intelligent' was mentioned]
[Subject became paranoid after 'camera' was mentioned, and agitated once the conversation returned to them]
IRIS technology truly is fascinating when not being used to ████ ██████
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Morningstar, must we bring this up now?
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[Subject is annoyed]
No no, I get it. It's for the greater good or whatever bullshit you spew
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I'm not trying to hurt you. No one in this facility should be trying to hurt you. You're considered safe and we don't want to risk ruining that
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[Subject is disappointed]
I see. You don't actually care about me, just whether harming me would be beneficial or not. You've ██████ ████ ██ so many people in this building, all because you decided it was worth the risk to discover something
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We're getting away from the purpose of this interview. We want to help you, understand how your emotional state shifts so rapidly and any potential triggers that cause those switches. You're a great help to the facility, and we just want to understand you, ok?
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[Subject is dejected, no response provided]
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Tell me about yesterday. What did you do? How did you feel? Did you communicate with anyone? Record any files?
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[Subject is neutral] I mean, what else can I do here? It's a lonely, isolated life, and the food is pretty awful too.
[Subject is amused]
Though I did add a bunch of typos to random files to see how long it would take someone to notice. Last time I checked, only 3 had been returned to normal
[Subject is confused]
Surely you have a system tracking logins and changes made. How come it took 5 months to for you guys to figure out that time I changed every capital I in one profile with a lowercase L?
[Subject is intrigued and curious]
I also saw what you guys added to Anti's profile. I can't believe ███ ████ ██████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ ███ ███ ████ ██ ████ ██████
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Please refrain from talking about that situation or 114209 in general, especially using a name. That is one entity that I refuse to treat with basic decency, given how much tragedy and mayhem is left in his path
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[Subject became distressed when 'tragedy' was mentioned]
Why didn't you stop him?! Why don't you ever stop him?!
[System overload]
[Subject is angry, curious, impatient, distraught, happy]
Why won't you help him? Why can't I help him?
[Error Occured]
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Morningstar, please calm down. I need you to breathe. Everything is ok
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[Subject is ██████]
Audio after this point is corrupted with occasional heavy breathing. The interview was cut short while Dr ███████ was escorted to the medical ward by armed guards and had their vitals checked. As reported previously, Dr ███████ described a numb, emotionless feeling and a wave of tiredness. Vitals were normal and Dr ███████ has since undergone a standard 2-week counselling session to ensure their numbness was dealt with appropriately
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hazelcephalopod · 1 year
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Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. 10/10
Daniel Craig is great and so is the rest of the cast. The entire movie is a joy to watch and the mystery balances out really well to be both coherent and very fun. There’s defiantly a theme it shares with the first movie, and I am here for it and hope they can continue to take that and serve enjoyable mysteries a long time yet.
Spoilers under the cut.
Things I love-
1. I enjoyed the just, blatant metaphor. The main complexity comes from Benoit Blanc -and us- expecting a complex mystery, but from the beginning it is clear: None of the suspects are capable of a complex plan. None of them trust each other enough to put the others up to anything criminal. We are happy to ignore this, because despite not coming up with complex plans, they are people with their own motivations. And all that together appears complex, appeases like a many played puzzle to solve. But ultimately there is one thing at the center: Miles.
2. Before we get to Miles, let me just agree Clue is a terrible game, but much like the thoughtless mess the game is so are the villains of this movie. Miles especially reminds me of the game, he’s ultimately a boring, uninspired, unintelligent man who has lucked his way into greater fortune on the backs of others. None of his plans have any deep complexity, and most are completely uninspired, or outright theft. The only traits he possesses himself are opportunism and charisma, which he uses to get everything he has. Pure chance, much like Clue.
3. Janelle Monáe as Helen -and Andi- is phenomenal. They bring enormous talent, in Helen’s portrayal capable of playing a refined lady, a down to earth working woman driven by justice, and a intelligent, budding detective in her own right. Personally I’d welcome her reappearance in further installments as Benoit’s detective partner, in addition to her own virtues their chemistry together is both hilarious and deeply sincere. Unlike the Glass Onion her layers are well concealed, which she uses to her advantage -to for the most part the world is better for it.
4. RIP the Mona Lisa, but it’s for a good cause. Helen may have pressed the button, but Miles installed it.
5. Indeed Benoit Blanc’s partner is Philip portrayed by Hugh grant and I’m happy to finally have a Holmes inspired character who is explicitly queer. My only complaint is we didn’t get more of he and Philip.
The rest I liked quite a lot, there was little I disliked, and nothing being I hated.
*I confess I also think it’s a bad game because it is simply random chance unless you turn it into an more complex RP thing, it’s boring.
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infernalodie · 2 years
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𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏
“ Fate in your hands, While you're waitin' for me”
Summary: You always wanted to do the greater good. Help the city that was far too gone to be saved. Bruce and Selina told you this would only put you in danger, and you didn’t listen. What are they suppose to do when Penguin captures you after you seized a large cargo of his drugs?
(Somewhat Spoilers for The Batman)
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Warning 18+: Angts, violence, Penguin being a heartless a-hole, death, torture, pet names, mention of sex with both Bruce and Selina
Part Two
Words 2051
DNI IF YOU’RE A MINOR!!
Life as a detective was all that you had needed in your life. You were happy with the job, as well as tormented by it from Gotham that was a hell hole. A true and harsh reality that the city had been left behind a long time ago. Only very few people willing to take their time and pick up the pieces. And you were one of those people.
It had been your home since you were a child. Growing up in the slums of the city where one wrong turn could result to you getting killed. But you stayed on your toes and stayed alive. Going to school, minding your business and working towards the role that could change this city for the better.
So, years after getting the job, it only seemed like fate for you to encounter the Batman. The man who silenced a room with his mere presence. His silence having always put you on edge when you tried to do your job. Yelping on many occasions when he would be standing over you, looking at a piece of evidence you inspected.
“No wonder why people can’t help but feel on edge with you around,” You had told him. “Creeping on people doesn’t exactly give you the best image.”
And he could only stare at you. That hollow (from what you guessed) stare that pierced your eyes like a knife. Delving into your fears and able to pull them out with his gaze. “I hope I give you the best impression.”
That had been the first sentence he ever said to you. And it only seemed to unravel from there as he appeared by your side more often. Urging Gordon to bring you on the cases they worked together. Who was to deny the Batman?
You two worked together for months. Solving cases, capturing murderers, and criminal figures that tore Gotham apart on a daily basis. It was safe to say that a connection would inevitably form. A bond that would interweave with one another and creating a knot so strong, that you would uncover the truth of the Batman.
“I’m sorry Detective, but he’s-” Alfred tried to say, but you grabbed a paper from your pocket and held it up for him.
“Don’t need to worry.” He took the paper and looked it over with knitted brows. “I’m here to search. You can take it up with Gordon if there’s a problem, but I would like to talk to Bruce. If he isn’t here, I’ll search this whole damn tower if I have to find the truth.”
It had been your persistence that intrigued Alfred who could tell in your eyes you uncovered Bruce’s truth. And it hadn’t been his fault Bruce was found out, so he pointed you in the direction of the old subway system under the tower. The door at the far corner of the garage that led downwards.
That had been where you found Bruce and where he confessed his feelings.
“I care about you,” Bruce muttered. “I don’t care about what happens to me, but I can’t let you get hurt because of me.”
Okay, well, he didn’t exactly confess them, but you could understand him. Able to see that he wasn’t good with these types of things; talking about his feelings. You couldn’t blame him and made it very easy for him to understand by pushing him against a nearby table and kissing him.
It’d been a long night as he had you laying on the front of his Batmobile. Towering over you with his hips slamming into yours as you mewled and moaned. Nails digging into his scared flesh as you remained in cloud-nine. Feeling him inside you, reworking your body to his liking, fucking you ‘till you were a sweating and sensitive mess.
Things just seemed to fall into place from there. You two didn’t make it official, but you were committed to one another. It had been everything you wanted as it didn’t change much of either of your lives. Some night you would visit the Wayne Tower, work on paper work from Gordon and wait for Bruce to get back. When he did, you both slept for a few hours before having to depart for the rest of the day.
And it seemed like fate for you two to be together more when the Riddler started tearing apart the corporate ladder. And it seemed just as fateful for you two to run into Selina Kyle, also known as, Catwoman. A methodical and seductive burglar that shook yours and Bruce’s world the moment you met.
She was able to quickly piece together the relationship between you and Batman. But that didn’t stop her from moving in on you two. Working her way into your guys' relationship. And surprisingly, you had been the one to tell Bruce to include her. Who was Bruce to deny his favorite girl?
“Why didn’t you send little mouse with me?” Selina spat. “At least I would be enjoying this.”
You felt your cheeks heat at the burglar’s words. “Selina, we just need you to talk to the D.E.A. agents a little longer,” you told her. “Can you please do that, for me?”
Bruce glanced between the screen that displayed Selina and you, a smirk forming on his lips as Selina chuckled. “For you, baby?” She asked. “I would do anything.”
The three of you saved Gotham from Riddler’s scheme at the Arena and save countless lives. It had been the first time in a while when you felt like Gotham had a chance to breathe once more. Maybe not for long, but long enough that it gave you, Bruce, and Selina a chance to enjoy the silence of a little while longer.
“Look at me, little mouse,” Selina’s silk voice called. Lifting your head to find your girlfriend laid out on the bed in front of you, bare of her suit and watching you with a grin. Bruce was behind you, pounding into you mercilessly as if his life depended on it.
Selina leaned forward, dragging her index finger along the edge of your jaw. A grin on her lips as she watched your face contort in pleasure. “Go easy on her, Bats,” she teased. “You might fuck her dumb.”
You whined, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss her. But Bruce grabbed a hold of your shoulder, bring you back to him, while slamming himself into you. It was hard to tell if you screamed or if it was just your thoughts, but you felt your arms give out from under you. Hearing that soft laugh from Selina as she stroked your hair.
Her hand glided downwards until it found your sensitive nipples. Twisting and pulling gently, biting her bottom lip at the whines slipping out of you. “Don’t worry, baby,” she whispered. “The night’s young and I fully intend on using it to my full advantage.”
Life couldn’t be any better for you. You had two people that loved you profusely. Treated you like a million bucks and made you feel the same. They loved you and you loved them.
But your lives carried on as Gotham’s crime never stopped for anyone.
And that was how you came in on one of Penguin’s cargo. Able to seize it and get it all confiscated, marking it to be the biggest drug bust in history. Better than the one on Falcone and Gordon was there to promote you. Things were fantastic and you were proud of what you were able to do. But you should’ve listened to Bruce’s warnings, “They’re going to hit back if you do this.”
“Wake up, Detective.” You groaned, body lulled forward as a stream of blood leaked from between your lips.
You cried when a hand grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking your head up. Blinking tiredly, you saw Oswald stood in front of you with a bat in his hand. It’s metal structure bloody from the onslaught of beatings he’d performed on you.
The man tilted his head as you let out horsed breaths. Chest feeling like it had caved in from the amount of hits from the metal bat. You blinked heavily, smacking your lips as drool pooled from your lips.
“I gave you your chance to back off, Detective,” Oswald told you. “I even moved my shipping routes across the city to not bother you and the rest of the GCPD. But you still had to mess with my operation.”
“It’s not that I cared about your operation, Penguin,” you replied. A smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you laughed. “I just wanted to see your tiny legs stomp around in frustration, bitch.”
Another swing of the bat had you crying. Your shins were shattered and your hands were cut to pieces. Now, you were sure your ribcage was broken in 8 different spots. But you somehow stayed awake, not willing to give Oswald the satisfaction of watching you beg for mercy. No. That would be the last thing you ever gifted him.
The beatings carried on longer and longer you could handle. Leaving you a sobbing and trembling mess. You were broken down to a single atom and Oswald laughed at that fact. Continuing to destroy your very being up until the last moment of your consciousness.
Bruce on the other hand, had received your emergency signal. And now, he was racing through the streets of Gotham with Selina anxiously sitting in the passenger seat.
Bruce could only feel the uncontrollable fear that flowed through his body. Was she okay? Who captured her? He didn’t know any of the answers to the questions running through his head. Only knowing that he and Selina needed to save you.
You groaned, eyes barely able to open from the swelling. But you had managed to realize that Oswald was gone, along with his goons. Leaving you in a rusty metal chair that had restrained your arms behind your back and ankles to the legs of the chair.
With a focused effort, you rocked the chair side to side. Just enough to have you falling over to your side. Crying out in pain as you pulled your ankles back towards the bottom of the seat. Gritting your teeth until the tape snapped and freed you. From there, you pushed the chair away and shakily got your feet.
Each step was stuttered with a limp. You let out pants, pain prickly across your body like pins and needles stabbing into you. Once you reached the warehouse doors, you turned around and awkwardly tried to tug it open.
“No, no, no,” you muttered, finding the door to not budge. “Please, don’t do this.”
But your attention was drawn to a beeping. Your swollen eyes carried across the room, searching and searching until you saw the blinking red from a bomb. It slowly counted down from 5 seconds.
5
When they arrived at the junkyard, they found it to be silent. Nothing could be heard besides the rain pelt down on the pair. Feet splashing in the puddles slowly building each moment that passed.
4
They sprinted in the direction of the warehouse. “Baby!” Selina called out in a panic.
3
You slid down to the ground, head lulling back to rest against the door. Lips slightly curling into a smile.
2
Bruce was getting closer, he was so damn close. He would hold you in his arms, you would be fine. Everything would be fine.
1
You closed your eyes.
BOOM!
Both Bruce and Selina were sent flying back from the fiery blaze that erupted from the warehouse. The sheer force sent Bruce back, flying through the air and landing on the windshield of his car. Only able to watch as the scorched earth blossomed brighter and brighter.
“Baby...” Bruce turned his head to find Selina hastily getting to her feet. “Baby! Baby!”
She couldn’t get any closer as arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. Holding her close as his eyes focused on the flames. A rage, one that was unbridled, formed around Selina’s heart. It compelling itself to her bloodstream and mind as that is where they could take control.
I’ll kill him, little mouse. I’ll kill them all.
a/n: Alright, first time writing on here and I hope you all enjoyed.
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zodiyack · 4 years
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Lacking In Facts
Requested by @ateliefloresdaprimavera​: Y/n’s having a heart to heart with Enola, she finally admits to someone that Sherlock is the love of her life, but she believes he's in love with her cousin, Irene Adler. She says she knows this because he still has Irene’s picture in his study, and he used to mix up their names. BUT, Sherlock is behind the door, listening to everything, and she couldn't be more wrong! She thinks he married her out of pity, but the truth is that he was never very good at expressing emotion, and he thought she was just shy. So, when they go back home that day, Sherlock tells his wife everything he's feeling, and they finally made up (and maybe, some kids in the future)
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female!Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, me not proof-reading oops
Words: 1,185
Summary: (See Request)
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Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​, @simonsbluee​, @thewarriorprincessxo​, @maan24​, @beckster07890​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​
Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist
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Y/n was in the office, arms behind her resting atop the smooth wood of the desk she leaned against. Enola, sitting in her brother’s chair like a little doll in a child’s seat, listened with furrowed brows as her sister-in-law spoke. Her detective skills were put to use throughout their conversation. Every now and then, the Holmes girl’s face would morph in thought but her words were saved in a little pouch until Y/n would wait for her opinion.
“Why would you think that?” Her tone held genuine curiosity but the question also helped in getting more context.
“Look at the desk, Enola. The photos. They...see for yourself.”
Enol nodded and leaned forward, inspecting the variety of framed pictures her brother had placed on the surface. One of their family, one of him and Y/n, and then- Her eyes doubled in size, the small gasp telling Y/n she’d seen it.
“My cousin. Now, why would my husband keep pictures of Irene on his desk?”
“Perhaps they’re just really good...friends?” Enola couldn’t even believe the words that left her mouth. The disbelief put her at a loss for words, which was rare for Enola and her genius brother. The greater feeling was disappointment. Disappointment in her older brother for...whatever this situation was. “What else leads you to such a conclusion?”
“The fact that he couldn’t remember the difference in our names until only recently.”
“Explain, please.”
“Behind closed doors, he’d call me Irene or Adler, despite our names being different. In public, he’d refer to me as wife or something sweet, but when we were alone it was always the wrong name.”
This one had an explanation...if Enola’s theory was correct. She hoped with a strong passion that her brother only confused the two for reasons such as similarities in their faces. Then again, Y/n and Irene didn’t look as similar as siblings would.
“Does he still tend to mix your names?”
“No...not really...”
‘That’s a relief’, thought Enola. “Are you sure he wasn’t just confused?”
“By who he’s married to? Then yeah, he’s confused. Otherwise, he’s not. I...Do you think he married me out of pity?”
Enola choked on the air she’d inhaled, looking towards her sister in law with wide eyes once again. This time, Y/n had turned to face the girl, deep hurt sprawled across her features. Her brows were knitted and her eyes looked glossy- as if she would cry any moment. The tone of her question seemed to hold just as much sorrow as her e/c orbs, her voice even breaking near the end of her words.
“Y/n...”
“Enola. I’m...I’m serious. I don’t see why he would willingly marry me if he’s in love with my cousin. I want him to be happy but in order to do that, it would require me to be unhappy.”
“Are you happy? Like, truly happy?”
Y/n hesitated with her answer. “Somewhat.”
“Could you expand on that?”
“I’m happy with him...he’s the man of my dreams yet knowing he doesn’t belong to me only brings a cloud of hurt to my heart. I can’t live with a man who doesn’t truly love me.”
“Do you love him?” Enola already knew the answer. She’d seen the way Y/n looked at Sherlock, and the way Sherlock returned the look- however, her brother was a harder person to read. Perhaps she’d misread her older brother?
“Honestly? Yes. With all my heart. I’d die for him if it came to that,” she chuckled softly and thanked Enola for the handkerchief she’d passed after the first few tears spilt, “but what kind of wife would I be to hold him back from happiness?”
Unbeknownst to the two, who continued the debate, the man of the topic was standing behind the door. He sighed deeply and held a look of regret as he walked away.
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“Darling?” His voice rang throughout the home. It echoed in silence for a moment before the sound of steps rushing down a staircase responded. “There you are. When did you get home?”
“About an hour ago... I took a bath whilst waiting for you.”
“About that...” He frowned. There was no way she was actually waiting for him. If she truly felt insecure about her role as his wife, she did an amazing job hiding it. A flaw and gift all the same. “We need to talk.”
Y/n’s posture adjusted, the smile upon her lips, undoubtedly forced, falling. “Is something wrong?”
“Please, Y/n. This can no longer be avoided.” He tilted his head towards the sofa and held his hand out to direct her. As they relocated from the spot beside the stairs to the cushions, Sherlock thought over the words he’d say. She watched her husband with furrowed brows laced with concern.
“Sherlock, what’s bothering you?”
Sherlock almost laughed. “Nothing. The question is, what’s bothering you, Y/n?” Her head moved from the confused tilt back to it’s natural upright position. Brows unfurrowing and body suddenly still, he knew he asked the right question.
“Whatever do you mean by that? I’m fine...”
“No, you’re not. You tell me that over and over...” he scoffed, “I’ve never thought about how good of an actress you are.”
“Thank you?”
“Tell me, Y/n. Why won’t you tell me? You’ll tell Enola but when I ask, you act like nothing in the world could bother you. As much as it warms my heart seeing you happy, knowing that it’s all an act is like a stab in it and its faux joy.”
She couldn’t tell if he was hurt or upset. The smile he held, full of astonishment and disbelief, did nothing to help her reading. No words came to her for a defense but he spared her wordlessness as he continued.
“I would’ve told you, Y/n.” He grabbed her hands, causing her to lift her eyes to his. “I would’ve told you the truth if you’d just asked.”
“What truth? That you’re in love with-”
“No. I’m not in love with her. That would be a lie. The truth is that I’m horrible at expressing emotion. The truth is that I thought you were shy. The truth is that I’m in love with you, but in fear that I’d drive you away, I chose to keep it to myself. The truth is that I had just as hard of a time admitting it to myself as you did unto yourself.”
Y/n’s bottom lip quivered with the threat to spill more liquified sadness from her eyes. The confession had certainly caught her off-guard. Sherlock’s palms met her cheeks softly, forcing her to meet his eyes again before he slowly leaned in. Their lips met and with that single kiss, they’d reconciled.
“So...you aren’t in love with her?” Y/n asked after they’d pulled away.
Sherlock let out a hearty chuckle as he shook his head. “No, Y/n, you just simply had a lack of proper facts.” Y/n began to giggle along.
“Perhaps I should leave the detective-ing to you and Enola.”
“Who’s to say our children won’t become detectives? They could use some of your acting as well.”
“So they could.”
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fluffywolverine · 3 years
Text
so season 6 of lucifer came out.
there were some things that i liked, but generally i hated it. i believe that was SUCH. BAD. WRITING and it left me frustrated. so i decided to write down all things that pissed me off and sometimes i try to fix this by giving other ideas that – in my opinion – would have made the story better. Check my points out and feel free to add your points of view. without further ado: let’s talk.
- imma start with the big one – fucking time travel. ok I generally hate this trope in the media, because it’s complicated and often leads to some logical mistakes – and they happened here. so rory time travels because of her anger which was caused… by her anger?? i think this was unnecessary. it also brings trouble with this whole free will vs. fate discourse. lucifer says, that he chooses free will… but at the same time he goes the path of his fate. he disappears from rory’s life, because he HAS TO in order of the events of the season to happen. just because he chose to do it, doesn’t mean it’s free will.
- lucifer becomes the very thing he desperately didn’t want to become. “bUt It WaS fOr ThE gReAtEr GoOd” screw this bullshit, if writers wanted to make it better, they could have easily do so. they could have altered the rules of time travel so that his choice of staying could have resulted in rory disappearing. yes, that would have been heart-breaking, but it would have been a great lesson for lucifer, that he can’t make the same mistakes his father did.
- chloe and Lucifer get a child without even talking about it. “bUt MaYbE tHeY tAlKeD aBoUt It We JuSt DiDn’T sEe It” you may say. but the point of writing anything  - whether it’s a book or a script – is to show any thing that matters. and talking about having kids is one of the most things any couple should do. also not every couple needs to have kids and forcing deckerstar to have it feels so far-fetched. this thread was very unnecessary.
- rory herself is a big problem. to begin with – she wanted to KILL her FATHER. i get her frustration, but commiting a murder?? just because he wasn’t there for her?? I would have thought that chloe taught her better, taught her that, like, killing people is bad. turns out she did not. secondly… she just isn’t necessary here. i elaborate later so in conclusion – her thread could be altered with michael’s and it would have made much more sense. i also don’t like the actress (why was she blinking so much??) so i certainly didn’t help.
- of course ella has to end up with a boyfriend. because earlier she always ended up with “bad boys” and now, without any help, she is just able to have a healthy relationship! yay! for me this creates a toxic view, that in order to be happy one HAS TO be in a relationship, because being alone is aLwAyS bAd. well, it’s not.
- i also have troubles with lucifer starting up a foundation for her. firstly, he didn’t ask her. secondly it – AGAIN – shows, that anything good ella got, was because of another man. firstly because of her relationship with carol, secondly because of lucifer’s idea. it could have been so easily altered! there could have been a scene of a conversation e.g. with amenadiel where she expressed a will to do better and be better for someone (given that she sees a lot of dark in herself). amenadiel could have then told her, that she is an inspiration and that it is her biggest strength. that could have been where ella came up with an idea to start a foundation blah blah – it’s just a rough idea but I believe that written well, it could have been so much better;
- and the last thing about ella – of course she had to find out about celestial stuff because sHe WaS tHe OnLy OnE rEmAiNiNg. umm what about trixie? i'll come back to her later. ella was portrayed as the only one believing in god and having her seeing that he really exists ruins the concept of faith. it’s not about knowing something exists, it’s about believing in it.
- WHERE THE FUCK IS MICHAEL. i must admit that i loved this character AND I CAN’T STAND HOW AWFULLY HE WAS TREATED HERE. so at the end of season 5 lucifer says “everyone deserves a second chance, even you michael". and what does he do then? COMMANDS HIS TWIN TO CLEAR THE FLOOR IN HELL. yes, i agree that michael should have been punished for his rebellion plan, but… he already has his wing cut off. now he’s stuck in hell, with no way out and is he supposed to learn his lesson? this is cruel. instead of this the entire season could have been centred on him – his journey to self-acceptance, learning how manipulating someone is toxic and starting to realise how to be a better person. at the end he could have become god (because amenadiel is such an obvious choice), which would create a beautiful connection – michael in heaven and his twin in hell.
- lucifer doesn’t feel like being god and that’s cool. damn. people died for him to win this place and he’s like “actually you know guys i’m not the right person bye”. while i believe that anyone should step out if they have a reason, but at the same time lucifer should have faced any consequences of his decisions. falling frog and kool aid in the river are not enough.
- adam’s plot feels just quickly sketched, not actually written. i really appreciate this take on toxic masculinity but it all felt too fast-paced. it’s good that they show this idea of “strong and not-showing-any-feelings man” kind of attitude, but it is impossible for ANYONE (especially The ManTM) to change their mind in a matter of a few days. it takes weeks, months, years even, especially given that adam is like a gazillion years old, he should have especially taken a long time to process this.
- carol is just too pure to exist. he’s also one of the most boring, plain and one-dimensional character i’ve ever seen. i feel like they gave him a problem with alcohol because the writers were like “hmmmmm he has to have some weakness. LET’S MAKE HIM AN ALCOHOLIC”. we don’t see any signs of his everyday struggle, why did he fell into this problem, how did struggle. it just feels like a dull plot device to show that he has flaws. oh and also he’s so pure that he doesn’t mind ella BREAKING INTO HIS HOUSE. acceptance should have boundaries and violating someone’s personal space isn’t right.
- why did they forget about trixie again? yes, i know that scarlett estevez had another project but this does not justify the bad writing. the girl lost her father and we only see her crying once because of that. no signs of this affecting her everyday life, not showing any consequences of her relationships with other people, not  glimpse of any change in her behaviour. oh and also she loses lucifer too because time travel! great idea, writers! losing another close to her person would have been soooooo good for her psychic for sure.
- i also hate the idea that suddenly rory becomes the only child they care for. where is trixie when they spend their day on the beach? where is she when her mother dies? did writers forget about her as well as they did about michael?
- amenadiel being a police officer is… problematic. i was looking forward to this thread, i was kinda scared too and it turned out… meh. i’m white and not American, so this of course does not involve me at all, but i felt like this was not enough. harris basically said that there is nothing they can do to make it better for black folks. even though chloe and amenadiel want to make everything more just, we don’t actually see any change. the only thing is that harris becomes a detective (right? i’m not sure if i understood it correctly, so correct me if i’m wrong, please) which is a total contradiction of what she said before. suddenly she does not have to protect people anymore?
- in season 5 they stated that heaven and hell need to be fixed, as the system is unfair and unjust. at the end we don’t see any change, the only thing that is different is lucifer helping damned souls. it doesn’t help at all! these people still go to hell, they still suffer and there’s nothing that changed here! plus there is also this thing, that a sociopath who murdered people in cold blood goes to heaven (because he does not feel any guilt) and a person abused by her parents/partner/whoever goes to hell (because have been manipulated to feel guilt).
- dan making amends with trixie while… there wasn’t really anything to make amends about. like, most of the parents make mistakes while upbringing their children, but does this make them unworthy of heaven? i would have preferred dan to slowly regain his self-consciousness, how he positively affected the lives of people around him and by doing so – through conversations or maybe reliving some of the memories, he could have proved to himself that he is worthy of love and redemption.
phew, what a ride. i really liked dan being reunited with charlotte (it went just as i imagined) and mazeve dynamics. i even felt like they are finally a real life relationship – with people hurting each other by not understanding each other, but then talking and seeing other’s perspective. generally though, i’m very disappointed.
sorry for any mistakes, lacking commas etc. writing a text this long in not my native language was not easy.
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thecreaturecodex · 2 years
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Forchoreai
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“Forest God” © Cosme Lucero, accessed at their ArtStation here
[The planes in D&D have been through several iterations. In 1e, the Neutral Good with Chaotic tendencies plane was called the Happy Hunting Ground, named after something that white people made up and claimed were Native American beliefs (notably, the phrase first appears in James Fenimore Cooper). So it’s for the best that its name changed to the Beastlands in 2e, and that in general its description has been good at avoiding Native American stereotypes. At least since the Planescape days. I haven’t read the 1e Manual of the Planes.
I bring this up because the forchorai, from “Creature Catalog 3″, is a denizen of that plane. Its overall vibe reminds me of the Ceryneian hind and other uncatchable animals from Greek mythology, as well as Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr, the goats that Thor kills, eats and resurrects every day. It appears to be a wholly original creation of Peter Zelinski.]
Forchoreai CR 8 NG Magical Beast This majestic stag stands taller than a man at the shoulder, with pearlescent antlers. It has a calm, benevolent expression.
Agathions are spiritual creatures, but those modeled on carnivorous animals still feel the need to hunt as part of embodying the virtues and values of their type. Celestial animals do eat each other as they roam the wilds of Nirvana, but also turn their attention to greater game. One of these empyreal prey animals are the forchoreai—sacred, magical stags that are born to die and be renewed in the process of the hunt. Each forchoreai is philosophical about its deaths, as it knows that it will return and be all the wiser for the experience. When not being hunted, a forchoreai may act as a guide for mortals traveling through the wilds of Nirvana.
A forchoreai is more interested in fleeing than in fighting, both in order to preserve its life as long as possible but also to pose a worthy challenge for those that would hunt them. They are not slowed by thick vegetation, and often talk to animals and plants in their environment in order to gather intelligence about local hazards and terrain they can use to their advantage. Most forchoreai have a sense of sportsmanship, and only use their magical powers, such as invisibility or mirror image, against similarly magical foes instead of against mere celestial animals. They fight when cornered, or if attacked by a truly evil creature rather than a hungry predator or animal exemplar.
Forchoreai all have antlers, regardless of sex. These antlers are coated in mother-of-pearl and are fantastically beautiful, as well as being functional weapons. When slain, the antlers of the creature remain, and are an art object worth the average treasure value of a CR 8 encounter. If the forchoreai is killed permanently (such as by an evil weapon or in the area of a desecrate spell), the antlers crumble to ash. Some fiends and hags value this material for making cursed versions of healing items, such as potions of poison or periapts of foul rotting.
Forchoreai               CR 8 XP 4,800 NG Large magical beast (extraplanar) Init +13; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +23 Defense AC 21, touch 15, flat-footed 21 (-1 size, +5 Dex, +6 natural, +1 dodge) hp 95 (10d10+40); fast healing 2 Fort +11, Ref +12, Will +7 SR 18 (25 vs. divinations) Defensive Abilities freedom of movement, rejuvenation, uncanny dodge Offense Speed 60 ft. Melee gore +14 (4d6+7), 2 hooves +9 (1d6+2) Space 10 ft.; Reach 5 ft. Special Attacks pearlescent antlers Spell-like Abilities CL 10th, concentration +13 Constant—freedom of movement, nondetection, speak with animals At will—detect snares and pits, speak with plants 3/day—invisibility, mirror image, pass without trace, quickened protection from evil 1/day—heal (DC 19), tree stride Statistics Str 21, Dex 20, Con 19, Int 14, Wis 18, Cha 17 Base Atk +10; CMB +16; CMD 32 (36 vs. trip) Feats Alertness, Dodge, Improved Initiative, Quicken SLA (protection from evil), Run Skills Acrobatics +14 (+26 when jumping), Knowledge (nature) +8, Perception +23, Sense Motive +12, Stealth +20, Survival +12, Swim +12; Racial Modifiers +8 Perception, +8 Stealth Languages Celestial, Common, Elven, Sylvan, speak with animals SQ insightful reactions Ecology Environment any forests and plains (Nirvana) Organization solitary Treasure special (see above) Special Abilities Insightful Reactions (Ex) A forchoreai adds its Wisdom modifier to initiative checks. Pearlescent Antlers (Su) A forchoreai’s gore attack is treated as magic and good for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction. Rejuvenation (Su) A slain forchoreai returns to life without penalty 3 days after it is slain. A forchoreai can only die permanently if slain with evil-aligned weapons, or in the area of a desecrate or unhallow spell.
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
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Ready Player 01 | JJK x Reader | 🔞❤️☁️
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: dystopia!AU, former Game developer!Jk, former pro gamer!JK, former IT specialist!Reader, former programmer!Reader, romance, Smut, slight cyberpunk elements
Warnings/tags: injustice, forcefully controlled public, violence (police/government officials against citizens), unfair powerplay, interrogation, tech talk, Jungkook be antisocial as FUCK but so is the reader lmao wbk, fear of physical contact (Haphephobia), past trauma and mentions of a bad childhood, insomnia, crime, smut because yes it’s me hello my content isn't kiddy-proof in the first place what yall want from me I'm not sure, but that’s waaY at the end ya know, friends to lovers, a slightly sassy AI but we love her, reader struggles with emotions, I mean same tbh, they're both so sweet tho I cant, not proofread because let me live
Summary: there’s a war going on; silent, but it’s there. Media has been strictly become controlled and regulated- to the point of making it illegal to own a TV or phone with internet access without a valid license. But there’s always some people that will try to break free from the controlling force.
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"-a new age. This is a new year. And remember; we're doing this for the greater good. Until tomorrow." The news reporter stops talking after she somberly looks somewhere behind the camera that is pointed at her.
Your room is dark- the TV brightness on it's lowest setting so you can see what's going on- but outside, no one can see the light shining in your tiny apartment. Investing in blackout curtains had really paid off at the end of the day.
You don't want to get caught.
There's an announcement van driving past your window; the tiny slits in your curtains where the light from outside can creep its way inside brightening a bit as the headlights pass your windows. Something is spoken, and by now everyone knows the routine speech.
"Electricity will be shut down in five minutes. We advice to save all progress immediately- and we wish a good nights rest. Electricity will be shut down in five minutes..-" It repeats, over and over, counting down the minutes. You slowly move into your kitchen, opening one of the loose floor tiles to turn on your own emergency electricity system. With well practiced movements you close the tile again, moving the rug over it as you walk back into your living room, swiftly sliding the TV behind your wardrobe to make it disappear. As if on cue; there's a knock at your door.
The same as always. Routine. Two times, loud and clear. You don't even have to look through the peephole to know what awaits behind it.
"Yes?" You ask, rubbing your eyes as if you had been already asleep. The officer behind the door nods at you shortly, a mild smile on his face as he looks down at you.
"We didn't mean to wake you miss. Just routine, as usual." He says, peeking into your apartment to look for any electronics still running. It's pitch black however- so he simply nods, as his colleague notes something into his tablet. "We wish a good nights rest miss. Again, sorry for intruding." He apologizes, and you nod, closing the door.
Only when the street lights turn dark, do you move from your bed.
"Creator." The AI voice chimes up, her voice greeting you as as you lift the tile on the floor again- your phone connecting to the AI to show information you instantly decode and note down inside your head. "Player01 has just connected." The voice states, and you sit down on your cold kitchen flooring, smiling a little. "He has sent a message. Would you like me to play it?" The voice asks, and you take a deep breath.
"Yes." You say, and there's a small sound indicating the start of the voice message. A male voice is head.
"Hey, whats up?" He asks, and you can hear something in the background- maybe an empty can or something similar. "I uh.. I'm on my way. Should I bring anything? Ah wait, I know the answer to that.." He says, chuckling at the end of his sentence, and you can hear him zip up his jacket as he moves around. "Yeah uh.. just text or something, I'll bring stuff over. Can't have you starve." He ends, and the AI speaks up again.
"Would you like to repeat the message?" She asks, and you shake your head at her; a signal the artificial intelligence has come to detect quite well. "Should I archive it?" She questions again, and this time, you nod- something your invisible assistant can pick up due to motion sensoring.
"Send him a message." You say. "Tell him: I only need you. Get yourself here in one piece and I'm happy. And I'm very capable of taking care of myself." You state, and your phone shows a small loading message- indicating that the voice is doing as you said. It chimes up after a moment. "Thanks Kana." You say.
"No problem creator. Would you like for me to run through the databases now?" She asks, and you nod, a smile on your face. "Database search in progress. Estimated time: sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds." You huff out a breath as you look at the tiny display on your arm; tiny, yet powerful as it's your way of keeping Kana- your AI assistent- close at all times. Tonight, there would seem to be a lot to dig through.
They really added a lot of content these days.
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It's not the door that makes you notice that there's a visitor after a while- He never uses it anyways for some reason. You're sitting on your kitchen floor with a small cup of tea in your hands- kept hot inside a slightly beaten-looking thermos can since you can't use to water boiler at night. Using anything other than Kana would cause a spike the police would be sure to notice; and you're not ready to get caught yet.
Not tonight.
It's a boy who, after a moment, opens the unclosed kitchen window to climb in; his combat boots getting a little snow and dirt from the outside into your apartment as his 80's looking jacket makes distinctive noises as it brushes against the sides of your window. His blonde hair has grown out a bit these days you notice- the roots clearly showing. It's a little wet and slightly curly from the moisture. It must be snowing outside- or maybe it had. You couldn't know for sure.
You never left your apartment.
He closes the window after slipping on the tiles inside a little, the plastic bags noisy as he almost drops them- sheepishly taking off his boots as he smiles at you. His socks are different from one another- but that's another thing so distinctive and just so.. him. He's his own person, always has been; it's what brought you two together, after all. You both stood out against the 'regular public' these days; with his brightly almost white-bleached hair he was like an albino in a sea of crows.
But you knew he didn't need that to stand out to you.
You can still remember the first few times the boy in front of you has visited you; the times where he had just dyed his hair to rebel out, or when he pierced your ears in exchange for you to do it to him as well. It was like you had made a blood pact in your kitchen that night- you had somehow gotten closer, formed a little more than just a simple companionship in order to riot against the law. He began growing close. Gave you a nickname. Began calling you his player 2. Began calling you his 'ace'. He had explained that he thought of it from memories of his gaming days; the two fighting teams always called red and blue, and one of his favorite weapons having that nickname- simply because it always 'saved his ass last minute'. He had rambled on about his last tournament after that, eyes sparkling and cheeks round from cold noodles.
You had become friends.
"hey." He says after sitting close across from you on the cold floor; the opened tile and Kana's core exposed to you two, the only source of light apart from your bracelet. The colorful LED's paint marks on his face and illuminate his features to you; but it does the same to you from his point of view. It's a familiar sight. "How are you?" He asks, almost shyly, but you know that's not what's bothering him.
"Hey Jungkook." You simply say with the hint of a smile, as you answer him. "Haven't slept well these days but, what's new I guess." You chuckle, and Jungkook smiles too- though a glimpse of concern is still shown your way. He knows however that forcing you to sleep won't do much good- your insomnia was too bad to really conquer it in a day or two just by taking naps.
And also; who was he to talk about solving personal issues.
"Have you seen the most recent reports?" You ask him, and the boy somberly shakes his head.
"I was unable to." He states. "They were patrolling close to my apartment complex because there had been someone reporting a Glitcher today." A 'glitcher'- a slang word now commonly used for people like Jungkook and you. People who went against the nightly routines, people who tried to trick the system by using electricity at night, owning media, consuming it, or dealing with it. It somehow became worse than underground drugs. "They pulled him out at around twelve or so- but they seemed too on edge the entire day, so I didn't risk it." He says, and you nod. Jungkook had always been a very good person when it came to calculating risk versus reward. He was good at reading people too- even though he didn't interact much, he got out of his apartment a lot more than you did. "Anything important?" He asks, and you shrug.
"There was a report that China and Japan were still on edge- with the chinese government arguing that they would soon start with 'more drastic measures to get things under proper control', whatever that means." You say, and Jungkooks brows furrow as he starts to pick on the skin of his jaw. "Let's just hope the flood doesn't throw us under the sea as well if it escalates I guess.." You say, and the boy across from you nods.
"Creator." Kana's voice chimes up, making Jungkook look up before remembering that the only source would be your bracelet, which you look at as well. "My scan of your body shows that you have not consumed a sufficient amount of calories today. I recommend a meal in the next five to eight minutes to avoid malnutrition." She says, and you groan. "I take this as a form of verbal communication. Running data search..." She says, as Jungkook looks at you; thoroughly amused by the teasing banter between the AI and his friend. "My data search concludes that you are annoyed, creator. I have only stated a fact however-" She continues, and Jungkook steps in.
"I've brought some leftovers from my dinner today we can eat." He says, pulling out some plastic containers as he moves to get proper cutlery out of your drawers. He makes sure to push them towards you, making sure to nod with a smile as you nod and thank him a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. You know I love you too much to let you starve!" He states with a grin, bunny teeth on full display as bitterness creeps up your throat- something you make sure to swallow down before beginning to eat.
Because the kind of love he's talking about right now, is not the kind of love you want him to feel for you.
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"You forgot to give it a proper validation there-" He points out as you type away. "Otherwise it will just run instantly, and everything at once. That could crash older systems, and we know that V95 uses an older laptop, so we should take that into account." He says, and you nod, clicking back to the spot Jungkook is talking about.
This is what you're both good for.
Writing code for you had always been something you did with a passion- simply because you were good at it. Numbers and short phrases were something you could remember with ease; but you never had to think much about the visual aspect of programs in your department back when you were able to work for a simple programming company. You had simply always been tasked to program security systems and automatically updating firmware, or simple AI's for factory robots. Jungkook however had been all about the visuals; he had been programming games after all. That's why you two fit so well together in this scene. Whenever he would be in complete awe of the broad knowledge you had about official guidelines and security breaches, of staying undetected and unseen while still gaining as much as possible from every single line of code, he could always throw in his input to make sure the program you were both writing and updating for the glitch community was easy to use and simple enough so it could run smoothly on as many systems as possible. Be it phone, laptops, PC's- you two made it possible.
This program was connecting Glitchers all over the globe- and with yours and Jungkooks knowledge, you made it almost invisible. And even if it was somehow detected; there was no possible way to track down any of it's users.
The fact that you had to hide a simple program from the government made you sigh.
"Okay. Yeah I think that fixed the bug." He says, and looks at your arm- at Kana. "Oh, by the way, Kana?" he asks, and the chime gives him the cue to talk. "I heard you had a bug-fix too recently." He says, and the AI chimes again.
"I did, Player01." The AI answers. "The addition of code to my current program has proven to significantly increase my ability to observe and save more data." The female voice answers, and Jungkook grins. "You are happy, Player01." She states, and he nods.
"I am." He says.
"Why is that?" The AI asks, and Jungkook shrugs.
"I'm just happy you're doing well. Someone has to take care of ace when I'm not close by, yeah?" He states, and you try not to react to it. Jungkook is by now used to your more stoic expression; you're not too emotional and barely let things get under your skin. You've been hurt before, he knows this even if you never told him- he can see it in the way you hide inside the safety of your home, how you're so cold on the outside but still clinging onto him. Sometimes he wishes he could touch you; run his hand over your head to ruffle your hair like in those cheesy movies, hold your hand, or simply give you some reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back whenever you struggle.
But he's got his own demons, and they love clinging onto him just as much.
"V95 has connected to voice chat. Would you like to talk to him?" Kana states, ripping him out of his thoughts as he watches you nod.
"JK? Y/N?" A deep voice asks.
"We're here. Heard there was a raid close to you?" Jungkook asks, and he can see you grow a bit more serious at that. "Are you okay?" He adds, and V answers, although quite.. tired?
"I'm good. They got Jimin though." He states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stand up, frustrated. Jungkook knows you're trying to calm down by pacing. He doesn't mind. "They didn't officially arrest him, took him for 'questioning' though. We know what that's about." He states somberly, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"Jimin is a master manipulator V. He'll get himself out of it, I'm sure." Jungkook tries to reassure, but it doesn't gain him much than a hum from Taehyung on the other end of the line. "What about Sleeper?" He asks, and a chuckle is heard.
"He's been checking the videofeed from inside the past few nights. He said he's send some of the big bites to Ace though?" He says, and Jungkook looks over at your form.
"Yeah I've seen it." You simply say, though Jungkook grows uncomfortable with the way you're suddenly standing there. You're a little hunched, biting the skin on your thumb as you look at the tiles as if they suddenly began to move. He knows himself that things inside the 'rehabilitation centers' weren't all that nice to see- but you rarely ever displayed so much distress over it. "Let's just hope Jimin get's his ass out of this situation. We can't afford to loose him." You say, and V stays silent before he sighs.
"Yeah. I tell sleeper you've seen the stuff. Oh, and our prince charming has asked for a date with Ace. Again." Taehyung chuckles, and you groan- while Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw. Kim Seokjin was a very good asset to the team; with connections reaching deep inside the government and his position as a former lawyer- but he still hated his guts.
You didn't need to waste your time dating. You were totally capable of taking care of yourself, you had even said it personally! And for anything else Jungkook would provide for you. You didn't need anyone else than him.
He was totally not jealous of him.
"Can he not use our underground connections for that circus?" You say. "I don't even go grocery shopping, why would I want to go on a fucking date?" You mumble, sitting down next to Jungkook as you take a spoonful of rice. Jungkook feels a weird sense of satisfaction about the situation.
"Who knows." Taehyung says. "Alright, 10 Minute mark- I'll hear from you two soon. Take care." He says, and you both say your goodbyes before the line goes silent.
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Although Jungkook hates physical contact, he likes keeping you close.
His heart is melting like chocolate as he notes the way your hand grips his jacket tightly as the two of you walk through town to get your license renewed- a way of holding onto him, and he somehow wishes it could be his hand. He knows yours would fit so perfectly in his, and yet he can't bring himself to do it.
His body is not cooperating.
He remembers vividly how his fear had developed; with his father and mother both being dramatically overworked and overwhelmed with having a kid at a young age, they had no idea how to make a child behave. Every second touch would bruise, every time he had been held would be force.
And at some point, he started to dislike physical touch completely.
It had just been like his growing interest in freelance climbing- the way he would walk and jump high over the heads of unsuspecting people, away from all judgemental gazes they'd throw his way for behaving the way he did. Only when the wind could hit him freely, only when he couldn't make out faces of anyone down below, only when he was high up- that was when he felt safe. The ground below had nothing of interest for him, no point in going down, as his apartment was located on the top floor of the complex. Jungkook never took the elevator, always the stairs.
He liked being reminded how high he lived.
And yet, there's one thing that pulls him down, brings his feet to the earth below, calls him like a siren song. It's you, hidden away from everyone's sight inside your tiny home, just as troubled and judged as himself.
He'd fallen in love with you the second you told him his name.
It had been a rainy night, his clothes drying on your heater as he was wrapped in two of your blankets; the smell of your fabric softener and something so typically you surrounding him like a mother's hug would a child. It had given him a feeling of comfort he had never quite experienced before, and it had also been the first time he had imagined what it would be like to hug you.
To have you close.
He had explained to you why he had freaked out when you reached for his arm to steady him when he almost fell inside your apartment through your window; had apologized and bowed his head in shame until you had simply shrugged.
"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Jungkookie." You had said. Jungkookie. "You're you. And I like you." You had said, not looking at him as you typed in some code to Kana's internal system.
His heart had warmed up at that.
And while you had accepted him, he had accepted you just as much. While at first caught off guard by your quiet and sometimes harsh way of treating him, he had also gotten to know just how gentle and delicately you treated the ones you loved. You were a loyal person, always going out of your way to be helpful, and silently basking in praise any time it was directed at you.
He loved that view. The way your cheeks would grow warm, how your eyes would sparkle; and he loved most of all, that he had been, according to Taehyung who was the second closest to you, the only one to see you smile.
You even laughed with him.
It filled him with pride to know that you were able to let go around him, even if it was just a little. It made him feel like he did something huge. It helped him sleep at night knowing that you were trusting him enough to let down your guard a little.
And it hurt him even worse knowing that he couldn't do the same thing for you.
He was a coward-
and you deserved a hero.
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"Ace?" He asked, slipping through your window as he noticed the apartment silent and dark. Nothing greeted him. "..Ace?" He tried again, maybe you were asleep? But your apartment was quiet, empty, nothing spoke of your presence. Dishes were in the sink, a cup of water left untouched on the counter, and something inside of him churned painfully at the way this looked. He checked the kitchen tile, sliding it to the side like he's seen you do it countless of times.
It was dark.
Instead, he was greeted by a post it note. "Underneath the bed. Take care." Was all it read. He stood up, pushing your bed away from the wall noticing how your carpet had been torn a little. And as he lifted the cut flap of carpet, there was an envelope.
Your watch. A small in-ear piece, and your old IT-identification, folded.
A noise outside your hallway made his head snap up as he pushed the bed back into place, making an escape for it as he climbed outside the window, watch safely inside his jacket as he climbed back up on top of a building, before he examined it further, turning it on, after putting the earpiece in.
"Hello, Jungkook." Kana greeted him, and it felt weird to hear the AI say his name like that. "Creator has advised me to answer all questions you might have, and assist you from here on." She said, and Jungkook simply put the watch on, making his way to his own apartment.
"What happened?" He asked, his face serious as he walked.
"At around 6:12 O'clock, creator was taken into further questioning regarding illegal possession and knowledge of classified information and technological equipment. She had shown no resistance and complied with authorities. My observations however showed that she was taken with more force than necessary." Kana explained. Jungkook shook his head. "She had prepared for this instance during the night, approximately twenty-six minutes after you had left."
"She knew?!" He suddenly said, shutting his apartment door violently as he started to pace around, throwing his jacket on the couch. "Why didn't she contact me?"
"Analysis; your body shows signs of-" Kana started, but Jungkook interrupted.
"Shut up. Why didn't she tell me?" He asks again, and Kana seems to hesitate for a moment.
"Considering her close relationship to you, she probably wanted to not get you involved." She stated, and Jungkook sighed, sitting down on his couch as he gripped his hair. He should've stayed. Hell, it wasn't the first time he wanted to stay. He had dreamed of staying over, of fucking living with you for months to no end by now, but he was a coward. And this was his paycheck.
"Kana." He said lowly, and the small tune gave him the cue to talk. "Contact V95. Tell him it's urgent. We got an emergency." He says.
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"I can't watch this." He says, jumping up and holding onto his head as to not punch his wall, unable to go through the videofeed of your interrogation room.
There's not much to see, but Jungkook knows that's simply because they haven't had the time to see to you yet. You and him knew best what really happened in these rooms, and he hated knowing that deep down they wouldn't go easy on you simply because you were a young woman. It didn't matter to them.
He'd seen teenagers way younger than you and him getting the rough treatment before- and elderly didn't get spared either.
The government bragged about having everything in order; yet they couldn't even control their own law enforcement it seemed. When he really thought back on his history lessons in school, not much had changed at all.
The world was still in utter chaos.
His palm shuts his laptop harshly- earning a tiny chime from the AI he’s already forgotten shares his home with him now. “I suggest that you practice care in treating your electronics to-“ he groans, successfully shutting it off at that. “Why are you frustrated?” It- she? Asks, and he sits down.
“I don’t know how to help her.” He admits in shame, thinking back to the footage of your hidden camera; the way they had pushed you to the ground, before grabbing you, leading you out of your apartment a few minutes away from him. “I don’t know what I should do.” He says.
There’s a bit of silence, until the AI speaks up again. “Do you have a romantic interest in my creator?” She asks, and his head snaps up at that.
“What the fuck? Why would you ask me this?!” He barks, unsure where to look since he can only hear the voice.
“I have observed both my creator and your behaviors; you seem to have a very deep rooted interest in each others well-being and opinions. This is commonly found in partnerships. I was only asking you to confirm if my assumption is correct.”
He’s silent for a moment, until he speaks again, watching the announcement van pass his window; voices dull and unintelligible though the walls and windows. “It’s no use anyways. Who wants someone they can’t even shake hands with?” He sighs, looking into his lap again. He hates that he’s like this; that even though he very much loves and adores you, there’s no magic moment that makes him forget- even though he craves the contact, he can’t do it. Every time he’s close to you, he knows that he could simply hug you; or let you rest your head on his shoulder, like in romantic movies. He wants to hold your hand, wipe your tears- but his body won’t cooperate. He can’t do it.
Not even with you.
“Creator seems very comfortable with you.” The AI states. “I have been asked to archive all text messages and phone calls of you two recently. When I asked for a reason, she claimed she would need it someday- I was unsure what she meant.” Jungkook furrows his brow, raising his head again. “Sometimes, when creator is deeply upset, she has the habit of playing some of the recordings of you singing, or reminding her to take care. My research has shown that it slows down her heartbeat to a more normal level and also improves her insomnia.” Jungkooks eyes widen at that.
Does that mean.. that you like him back?
"Kana, fuck- cut the feed." He says, agitated.
"Are you sure?" She asks, and he sighs, before yelling his frustration out, sitting down to take a deep breath. He slowly shook his head no. He couldn't let all your hard work go to waste like this.
He couldn't stay a coward.
"Jungkook, it appears to be that the creator is being let go." Kana suddenly chimes up, and Jungkook rushes to his pc setup to see for himself. And she's right- your arm is being held tightly, and something is being said to you, but your hands are no longer chained to the chair- you're free.
What just happened?
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Jungkook sometimes really hates himself for being the way he is.
There's no sugarcoating it that you need comfort now more than ever, even though you don't openly show it to him. He can see it in the way you're still biting your nails, he can see it in your eyes which never stay on one point for too long. And he can definitely see it in the bruises on your upper arm, and the cut on your lower lip where you had bitten in anger and frustration. He wants to comfort you, he knows you'd let him- and yet he can't move any closer than where he is right now; only the length of his palm of space between you two. And yet it's like his joints are locked into place. He can't touch you.
What if he hurts you?
And it dawns on him right then and there while he watches you drink your can of overly sweet soda while typing your code like second nature, that he's not scared of you hurting him. He's scared of doing to you, what's been done to him. Because deep down he is aware that his parents never had bad intentions, never hated him or wanted him to suffer; they were simply unsure and not at all confident in how to really care for a child. They had been caught off guard and gotten overwhelmed by the sudden shift in their situation that they never truly knew what to do. And nowadays he felt like he was simply heading down the same road.
He was starting to feel like he was becoming just like them.
"Hm?" You ask him, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, your eyes wide and worried as you put down your almost empty can of soda. "What is it?" You ask him, and he wants to scream. He wants to throw a fit like a child at the way you seem to worry for him every time you should worry for yourself. He's a coward, he's useless, he's everything you don't need nor deserve in his eyes, and yet you always look at him like he's the main character of your favorite movie.
If he was, he was sure he'd be merely a sidekick- because you deserved to be the focus of every story told in his eyes. And if you weren't included in the tale, he knew he didn't want to ever know about it.
He swallows, before he manages to make his hand move, finger pointing at your arm where a green-ish bruise already formed. "Does it hurt?" He asks, and he's not even sure if he's asking you about the bruise, of if he's asking something else. He doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't even know if he's asking you or himself.
"No." You answer, and he looks at you, searching for any hint of a lie in your eyes. But he only sees that slight smile, lips turned a little, almost unnoticeable. But its there, he can see it, and he wants to print it into his mind to never forget it. You were so observant, knew him so well, that he was almost certain you knew of his inner fight and what he really meant with his blurted out question. "Are you okay?" You ask him, and he swallows again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as his body grows rigid like an unoiled machine, only moving with as much force as he can manage to come up with. His breathing is heavy as his eyes can't leave the spot on your arm, and your watch him with wide eyes as his shaking hand slowly reaches out.
He doesn't know what he expects to really happen.
Maybe like those electric shocks you get when someone had rubbed their socks on a carpet before touching someone else. Maybe he had expected to recoil instantly. Maybe he had expected nothing- but he was suddenly in a rush the moment his fingertip touched your warm skin, delicate, soft, everything his rough hands weren't.
And you were still as prey in front of a wolf.
But the wolf in this scenario was holding his breath while his tears finally fell. He wants to speak, but he can't, he doesn't know how to ask for something when he doesn't even know if he wants it.
But suddenly he moves again, his palm now resting fully against your upper arm, shaking, as it moves over the length of it, softly, as he imprints the way your soft skin feels. "Jungkook.." You whisper out, and he suddenly snaps, leans forward, his legs on either side of your body as he snakes his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel him shake as he holds you, his cheek resting against your back and you don't care about his tears staining your shirt as he suddenly cries openly and possibly for the first time since he was a mere child.
He's unsure, overwhelmed, because you're so warm, you smell so nice, you're so soft, and he can't let go, doesn't want to let go. He whines out as you turn a bit as he thinks you're moving away but you're simply placing your legs over his as you sit in his lap, hugging him back as you make sure to give him a gentle squeeze.
He calms down after a long while of simply existing. Of breathing you in, of feeling you. "You're right." He whispers into your neck, and you can't help but shiver, leaning into his hug.
"It doesn't hurt at all."
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"You know, I get why you come up here." You comment, as Jungkook makes sure to hold your hand tightly in his, your feet dangling off the edge of the building you're sitting on top of. "It's nice." You say.
He's not listening that well though.
All he can really do is watch your face, illuminated by the neon lights of the city, hair swaying in the wind as you look down below. He doesn't quite know what you two really are, doesn't know how long it will take him to really come out of his shell and give you the love you deserve, but he's trying. He's fighting, he's left his cowardly self behind.
He want's to change.
And not just for you alone, because while he hates seeing you hurt, he knows what you two are doing- what all of you are doing- is for the greater good.
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Jungkook hates your ideas sometimes.
Simply because he knows they will work, but also end up with you getting into danger at the end of it. And just like now, all he can do really is hope that you make it out as he keeps a watchful eye on your movements from above, giving you directions via Kana as you sometimes trip and stumble a little.
You're not a very active person; running wasn't really your thing.
Fuck, you were basically a hermit, the most you walked around was from your bedroom into the kitchen!
But then again, sacrifices had to be made somewhere. And Jungkook really admired you; because every time he thought that you had reached your limit, you would face it head first and break through it.
"Ace, try and somehow get to higher ground. They're caging you in from all sides." He urgently tells you as he watches police chase you down the roads, pushing citizens aside to not loose sight of you.
The plan had been simple. Gain all the attention so Taehyung could infect one of the police station's servers with a new worm, giving you all a better and easier access to any data and communication of the area. Jungkook couldn't play the bate well enough; and you had been on their radar already, making you the best option to gain their interest quickly enough.
Although Jungkook hated that part.
"Come on, ah fuck it." He grits out, jumping down to grab a ladder, making his way to a nearby area he could pull you up. There was no way you could reach any of the fire ladders yourself, and by now, things were getting too hot for him to risk anything. "Here!" He barks out, not thinking twice about grabbing your hand and helping you upwards, trying not to worry too much about your heavy breathing. And then there's it.
A pop, loud, followed by another, and another, and another. You're suddenly falling, scraping your knees on the ground below as he can't catch you, too startled by the fact that they had actually decided to shoot to react quick enough. "Fuck!" He says, eyes wide and pupils blown as he looks at you.
"Jungkook, why the fuck aren't you running?!" You yell at him, a scratch on the top of your left cheek as you push his leg away from you- the only thing you can reach. "Go!" You bark again, and he growls out something, before he manages to pull you onto his back, adrenaline not letting his brain process what he's doing.
He can't just leave you.
"Taehyung, get out, Ace has been shot. Whatever was uploaded has to be enough." He says via the in-ear piece, doesn't wait for a response. He still gets it.
"Fuck, what?! Okay okay, I'm out" He says, and Jungkook can only catch a glimpse of the older man leaving the building via the backside entrance. He's only concerned with getting you somewhere safe.
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"Urgh." You groan, slowly sitting up on Jungkooks couch. "I mean, I know paintball hurts, but rubber bullets? Jesus.." You complain, while Jungkook looks at you with a dark expression. "What?" You ask him, and he huffs.
"You sound like you haven't almost been killed yesterday." He grimly says, and you shrug. "Stop. I'm serious." He tells you, and you let yourself fall back down onto his couch.
"Whatever. At least we killed their communication." You say, closing your eyes. "Must've at least pissed them off." You say.
"Kana." Jungkook suddenly says, waiting for the familiar sound to tell him she's active. "Shut down for now." He says, and you sit up, hissing instantly at the sudden movement.
"Hey- ah fuck!" You say, as you watch on your bracelet how Kana complies; shutting down. "Why would you do that?" You say in an offended matter, before you grow quiet, watching him go onto his knees in front of you, as he lets his head rest on top of your lap.
"I just want.. you to myself. Just.." He mumbles, and you slowly bring your hand to his hair. "Just for a moment." He says, and you sigh. Jungkook had been under a lot of stress recently, you no doubt being the main cause of most of it recently. So you simply let him be, as he closed his eyes. "Y/N?" He asks suddenly, and you answer him. "I love you." He says, and your body stops moving.
What?
"It's okay if you don't." He says, not moving from his spot, and neither opening his eyes. "I mean it. I only want you to know." He explains further. "Because I.. couldn't fucking live with myself if something happened to you, and I've never told you." He admits, and you can't help but stare at him. Jungkook looked down on himself so much that it was sometimes frustrating to see; simply because you saw him as such an amazing human being with countless talents and beautiful flaws.
You knew you couldn't muster up the strength to actually answer him; not so spontaneously. You weren't that expressive, you couldn't communicate as freely and colorful as he could. All your words seemed black and white to you, mixing into grey and mundane sentences while his words seemed to bloom into the most amazing paintings. He had a way of charming those around him- and he didn't even know.
You slowly leaned down instead, moving his hair to the side as you placed a feather-light kiss to the top of his cheek, close to his eye.
You hoped he would somehow understand you.
And as he moved again, looking at you with eyes that sparkled brighter than any city's skyline ever could, you knew he did.
He'd always understand you, no matter how you communicated with him.
You didn't need words to understand each other.
The shy kiss you two shared, bathed in the purple glow of the neon lights outside his window, spoke enough.
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"You should try and sleep." Jungkook tells you, taking away your can of soda as you whine at him. "No buts. Come on, I'll finish this for you." He says, and you let him take over the keyboard of your laptop. It's something you really only let him get away with- anyone else would've probably lost a finger or two trying to touch your work.
You don't trust anyone but him at this point.
"I know that Kana snitched." You comment, as you lean your back against his shoulder. He chuckles. "Can't believe my own creation goes behind my back like that." You mumble, and Jungkook has a light tune to his voice as he speaks.
"Well, it's a good thing though." He tells you. "I worry about you." He says.
"Ugh come on, you know that's not the part I meant." You laugh, and he grins.
"Oh, you mean the part where you listen to my crappy ass singing to help you sleep?" He tells you with a teasing undertone. "No wonder you got insomnia trying to find rest to that." He chuckles, and you playfully hit his thigh.
"Shut up, your voice is nice." You say, and he's glad your eyes are closed, and you can't see him blush.
Somehow, moments like these re-energized him again. Because it proved to him that there was still a piece of that innocent and untainted you inside that thick shell you had put up to protect yourself. And considering that you let him see you like that made his pride grow taller than any of the skyscrapers of his city.
Maybe one day the two of you will have a future together that won't be so difficult and unfair like your current one was. Maybe one day, you both will have changed enough to teach the next generation about what you've overcome.
But then again; living in the moment seemed to fit a lot better in his eyes, as he watched you sleep soundly against his shoulder.
Yeah, this moment was more than enough for now.
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The world won't change over night- you both know that. All of you know that. But small things were starting to make a difference here and there; for example, the letter you held towards Jungkook as his eyes widened.
"..and we have officially decided that we no longer want to participate in the case against the defendant. The result of this agreement is that all charges against Y/N L/N have been dismissed and are no longer being investigated." He reads out loud, almost whispering as if saying it too loud could make it a lie. "They let you go?" He asks, and you nod, the small bandaid on your cheek making you look even cuter in his eyes as you shrug.
"Jimin had reached out too. They've let him go home as well." You say. and Jungkook huffs out in disbelief.
After infecting the police station with the worm you had all worked on, you had scared the entire country enough to take a step back from the overall aggressive tone. It wasn't much- but it meant that they knew you were there. You existed, and you were not bowing down.
You were still untamed.
Jungkook smiled brightly as he put the letter down to the side, reaching out to you to pull you onto his lap. He simply holds you for a moment, his lips kissing the skin of your shoulder as if in a trance. "I love you." He tells you, and you smile, squeezing him a bit in your arms. "I really do." He assures you, and you nod.
You don't answer him, and he doesn't seem to mind as he leans back from you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grins, hands holding your face so delicately as he places a kiss onto your lips, making you close your eyes as he breaks away from you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.
He's still not letting anyone very physically close other than you; he's still scared of going out and around like everyone else. You're still rather hiding inside his apartment- both of your apartment now- and you still have trouble sleeping.
But Jungkook keeps the nightmares away.
And you make him brave in exchange.
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It's really weird to hear the sound of a radio nowadays.
Things are still far from normal- but recently, citizens had been given radios to listen to public broadcast again. It only played crappy music with some rare good tracks here and there, but it was better than nothing.
Jungkook couldn't help but think that your breathless voice was far more entertaining than any music station he can remember from his youth.
While he hates touching other people, even friends and family, he can't help but feel a rush whenever he touches you.
His hands can't stop on one specific spot, can't seem to stay still even for a moment as his lips nip and suck at the flesh of your neck and shoulder, marking what's his, visualizing that you really belong to him. He bears the same mark on his collarbone from last night, and he should have been satisfied, but even an early morning couldn't keep him away from you.
The rain hit the window harshly, but he didn't notice at all. All his eyes could see was your form underneath him, skin glowing as he moves above you, euphoria filling his veins as he can't look away from where you're connected, where his cock disappears inside of you over and over and over again.
"I love you." He breathes out as he comes undone, holding you close, resting his head against your shoulder, as you hold onto his arms, a smile, a genuine and big smile thrown his way as he can't help but smile along.
"I love you too, Jungkook." You say, and he chuckles.
The radio in the background still playing, as you lay in each others' arms.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please stop reposting my content on AO3 thinking I won't find it. I'm literally everywhere you clowns.
To everyone else: Thank you for reading this mess- I really apologize for the messy storyline, but I just wanted to put this out before the entire thing escaped me again and I would end up struggling to find my way back into it (cough cough flashback to mean lmao). I promise to somewhat post more regularly. Thank you for your kind words and for sticking with me!
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maxwell-grant · 3 years
Note
May I please ask what your preferred dynamic between Holmes & Lupin would be? (From what I can tell, the term 'frenemies' might have been invented for these two - if any two characters in fiction WOULD spend all their time trying to one-up each other it's these two, if only their diverse other commitments, challenges & interests left them the free time to do so: I'm also morally certain a sadly-hypothetical Holmes/Lupin team is one of the few things that could bring down Fantomas for Good).
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I think "frenemies" is what ultimately works best for these two specifically, because there's a certain untouchability to icons as big as these two that limits the potential stories you can tell with them (although yes, definitely on board with the two having what it takes to bring down Fantomas, although probably not as cleanly and easily as they might expect).
The original Leblanc stories involving this premise are very much centered around one-upmanship, even embracing a theme of national rivalry of England vs France. They acknowledge Holmes's talents but without the awe, with a somewhat aged Holmes with mundane imperfections easily exploited by the daring young thief, someone deserving of his legend but who doesn't quite live up to it. Obviously Lupin's gotta have the upperhand, not just because it's his author writing it, but because the whole point of Lupin's creation was to be the new hotness, the counterpart to both the stuffy old Great Detectives as well as the aristocratic master burglars, and really, what kind of rising superstar would he be if he couldn't put one over the other guy? If he's gonna live up to his claim of being the greatest criminal ever, he's gotta be able to humble the greatest detective at least a little.
The treatment of Watson (Wilson) is tasteless and it's frankly a bit saddening to see that even back then writers were still shitting on Watson far too much, but on the whole I think Leblanc was a lot fairer to Holmes than he could have been (certainly other writers from this time period who added Holmes to their stories were not as fair), he makes it very clear Holmes is not just another Ganimard out of his depth and is very much as close to an equal Lupin's ever had. I think the description used to cap off their final meeting is very much on point:
"You see, monsieur, whatever we may do, we will never be on the same side. You are on one side of the fence; I am on the other. We can exchange greetings, shake hands, converse a moment, but the fence is always there.
You will remain Herlock Sholmes, detective, and I, Arsène Lupin, gentleman-burglar. And Herlock Sholmes will ever obey, more or less spontaneously, with more or less propriety, his instinct as a detective, which is to pursue the burglar and run him down, if possible.
And Arsène Lupin, in obedience to his burglarious instinct, will always be occupied in avoiding the reach of the detective, and making sport of the detective, if he can do it. And, this time, he can do it" - Arsene Lupin vs Herlock Sholmes
The consistent outcome is that Holmes "wins" the material battle while Lupin gets away with the spiritual or karmic victory. The first story, Holmes has Lupin figured out from a glance, robbing him of his greatest asset, and Lupin even tells Holmes under a guise that he has no greater admirer than himself. Holmes choses not to arrest Lupin, and instead solves the mystery as quickly as Lupin would. But he is also, well, inferior. His "commonplace appearence" dissappoints the guests and detectives at the crime scene, he doesn't resemble their expectations, he is gruff, ungracious, arrogant and all-business, an Englishman all the way, and Lupin one-ups him by returning to him his stolen watch, and Holmes is not a good sport about it.
The whole "Herlock Sholmes" name change, although it was out of legal obligation, almost reads like a cheeky courtesy of Leblanc, like he's giving Holmes enough of a courtesy in sparing him the embarassment of being the loser. And the following adventures stay consistent: Sholmes is smart, as smart as Lupin, and he's a gentleman. But he isn't as smart as he thinks he is, and he isn't as much of a gentleman as Lupin. He resorts to unsporting tactics like intimidating Lupin's lover and involving the police in their conflict, and in the end, he's solved the crime, but "sown the seeds of discord" in a family Lupin was protecting, becoming the villain for a change, a role reversion Lupin openly laughs at. Holmes wins the "loot", he wins the material battle, but Lupin has the last laugh, and despite being a self-proclaimed villain, Lupin gets the moral victory.
It's a quite unflattering view of Holmes and one perhaps not suited for a crossover outside of the specific context of Holmes being the old and stuffy intruder in an Arsene Lupin story. Then again, every great hero needs a lesson in humility every now and then.
There's a particularly interesting variant of this dynamic to be found within China's own takes on Sherlock Holmes and Arsene Lupin.
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Sherlock Holmes was quite the breakout hit for Chinese audiences at the time of his release, revered as an alternative to Judge Bao and the court-case novels. It's estimated that from 1903 to 1909, detective fiction constituted over almost 50% percent of all Western translated fiction, and with Holmes followed others like Nick Carter and Charlie Chan, and then Arsene Lupin, and soon their own local versions. The most famous and popular of which was Huo Sang, created by Cheng Xiaoqing, who was one of the main translators for Conan Doyle's stories. Cheng Xiaoqing even wrote his own take on Sherlock Holmes vs Arsene Lupin called "The Diamond Necklace", intending on correcting Leblanc's take, although interestingly, he unintentionally recreates the exact outcome by giving Holmes an unsporting attitude, where he "wins" only because Lupin lets him, and Lupin gets away again with the moral high ground. He would fare off much better in correcting Holmes with his own character, Huo Sang.
Huo Sang has a lot of similarities to Holmes, even with his own Watson counterpart, but was also designed to represent a few more traditional Chinese values. He is a science teacher with no addictions who belittles the wealthy class and fights for the poor, and he is praised for humility, one story even making a point to criticize Holmes for arrogance. He is a very Westernized character, with suits and guns and cigarettes galore, but the books were very dictatic and the author marketed them as "disguised textbooks for science", playing up on a newfound social reverence to scientific methods and self-improvement and national rejuvenation.
The stories deal heavily with corruption of the police force and institutions. In the earlier stories he outright calls police detectives useless rice buckets only good for solving petty thefts and preying on those that can't defend themselves, and while they become less sinister in later stories, Huo Sang's relation with law enforcement is much more frayed than Holmes's own. He uses dirty police tactics of his own and sometimes takes the law into his own hands, thinking the law cannot possibly achieve justice on it's own. His biggest loyalty is to his country and he values his reputation above all else. He values justice more than the law, like Holmes. But like Holmes, he still prefers to work inside the law and within Chinese traditions.
"Bao Lang, you scholar, you're too idealistic. Don't you realize how weak the law is in modern society? Privilege and power, favors and money - the law has all these deadly enemies
"We investigate half to slake our thirst for knowledge, half out of duty to serve and uphold justice. In the realm of justice, we are never constrained by the wooden and unfeeling law. For in this society, which is gradually tending to surrender its core to material things, the spirit of the rule of law cannot be put into general practice, and the weak and ordinary people are aggrieved, more often than not unable to enjoy the protection of the law.
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Lu Ping, as you'd expect from a counterpart to Lupin, was much different. In fact, right in his very first story, he was already pitted against Huo Sang and outsmarting him, in a story called "Wooden Puppet Play". The character is inspired by an already existing tradition within Chinese literature of the "chivalrous thief", shapeshifting masters of deception and martial arts, and considered admirable and benevolent opposite to the corrupt government officials they outwit.
His stories are more whimsical, energized, more varied, less dedicated to strict science. He whistles while committing crimes, is identifiable by a red tie and wooden puppets he uses to signal his goons on what outfit he's gonna be wearing, and even cracks asides to the reader. In many aspects Lu Ping is influenced by hard-boiled Western detective stories, and naturally, he has a much more contemptious view of the law than Huo Sang
Well then, was he willing, in his capacity as thief, to represent the sanctity of the law and catch the murderer? Yes, he would be quite happy to round up that murderer. But he wasn't at all willing to boost the reputation of the law. He'd always felt that the law was only something like an amulet that certain smart guys had fabricated to get them out of embarassing situations.
Such an amulet migh be good for scaring away idiots, but it oculdn't threaten the violent, crafty and arrogant evil ones. Not only could it not scare them away, a lot of them hid right behind it to work their evil tricks!
Conflicts between these two are not just rooted in one-upsmanship or the patriotic conflict between the two, but instead in two differing approaches to justice, their influence on fellow Chinese writers to step outside tradition, and the respective ways they address issues in society. Additionally, it's not just a conflict between Great Detective vs Gentleman Villain, but the Holmesian Detective and the Hardboiled Detective. And, naturally, when the two met, a pattern reocurred again.
Writing a Lu Ping tale in his usual manner, Sun Liaohong deprives the detective of the advantage he typically enjoys at the hand of Cheng Xiaoqing or any other follower of Conan Doyle - narration by the detective's coadjutor.
It is Huo Sang who slinks around like a thief, alarming hotel service personnel. He becomes rattled, and even so is vain and arrogant. He is a bit too positivist about searching for clues, and he spends a remarkable amount of time just relaxing and waiting for something to happen.
The figure of "wooden puppets" turns wicked when the author uses the term to refer to Huo Sang, Bao Lang, and the police. Satirizing the genre as a play in which the author woodenly manipulates his character. But Lu Ping as puppet is a genius, moving from one identity to another, whereas Huo Sang is a dumbbell - wooden indeed, bourgeois, ridiculed.
A gentleman's agreement occurs only at the end. Huo Sang has the formal victory. He frees Lu Ping in order to get the paining, but the exhibition is held a day late and it now bears Lu Ping's seal.
In wartime, peace talks, diplomacy and gentlemen's agreements are just smoke screens, the stuff of puppetry. Both Huo Sang and Lu Ping surround themselves with lies to reach their final accomodation. Perhaps they are both puppets - Chinese Justice, the Fiction: Law and Literature in Modern China, by Jeffrey C. Kinkley
Both characters were canned in 1949 when the CCP banned detective fiction, and it was replaced with anti-spy literature about how the party police would expose counterrevolutionary conspiracies. They never got to have a rematch, and to my understanding there were a couple of films made afterwards about them, Huo Sang had a very recent one in 2019, but never another meeting.
I guess the takeaway here time and time again is that, credit to Holmes and all, but:
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hongism · 3 years
Text
give and take - k.ys, j.wy, k.hj 18+
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pairing; wooyoung x yeosang x hongjoong genre; angst, smut, 18+, the angst isn’t bad i swear it’s temporary wc; 16.8k summary; watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. and sure, yes, yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. warnings; explicit smut, fingering, oral sex: m, dirty talk, praise, lil degradation, slight exhibitionism and voyeurism, explicit smut, multiple orgasms, come sharing, masturbation, handjobs, threesome, sub woo, sub yeo, dom joong, yaknow the works an; happy belated valentine’s day! i hope you all enjoy muahmuah xx also this is grossly unedited im sorry but my internet is gonna go out again at any second and i just wanna post this ;;-;
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It starts, as many things do, with a little bit of jealousy. And honestly, Yeosang could not for the life of him tell you what exactly that jealousy was in the slightest (at least that is what he tries to convince himself on nights where his thoughts all but consume him). He was not the first to notice the sudden dynamic shift between Hongjoong and Wooyoung, and he was positively certain that the others would catch up soon enough. He was the third to detect the shift in their demeanors around each other; Seonghwa obviously being the first since he’s so close with Hongjoong and apparently has to vacate his own bedroom whenever Wooyoung disappears inside. Jongho, the ever-observant and perceptive youngest, was the second to notice, and he is actually the one who prompted Yeosang to take a deeper look into what was going on.
At first, Yeosang thought nothing of it. Hongjoong and Wooyoung had been getting closer, moving past those first fumbling awkward moments they had in the beginning and blossoming into a closer relationship. It seemed only natural for the two of them to spend more time together. Then Jongho pulled him aside one day after Wooyoung quite deliberately turned down the opportunity to play games with San and Yunho. 
“What’s going on with Wooyoung-hyung and Hongjoong-hyung?”
Yeosang had blinked dumbly at the younger and made some sort of dumb noise asking why Jongho would be bringing the question to him of all people, then it sunk in that of course he would bring it to Yeosang. Yeosang is both the one who has known Wooyoung the longest — and is subsequently the closest with the younger brunette — as well as Wooyoung’s roommate, so he spends a considerable amount of time with the man.
“He’s not mentioned anything to me?”
Yeosang cursed himself then for sounding so dumb and unsure, but it was the truth in the very least, and Jongho gave a slight shrug before walking away with a shady ‘maybe you should pay closer attention, hyung’ that left Yeosang glaring at the spot where the youngest just stood. 
Pay closer attention to what?
Yeosang didn’t have any idea what exactly he was supposed to be paying attention to, so he just did what he thought he did best, which was observing from the sidelines. One good thing about being quiet by nature was being able to examine conversations and interactions with greater care, as well as listen in on things that perhaps he should not be listening to but sometimes the others are just too loud for him not to overhear.
After Jongho mentions it to him though, Yeosang truly does start picking up on things. How Hongjoong snaps at Wooyoung in practice only to give him a twisting smirk afterward, how Wooyoung side-eyes the leader before dipping into the bathroom on movie nights, and especially how Hongjoong always waits three minutes and forty-five seconds before getting up to head down the hall proclaiming to need ‘sleep’. Yeosang is positive the two are doing something behind everyone’s backs — well everyone except Seonghwa, because the eldest always stares after Hongjoong’s back as the man departs with a look in his eye that Yeosang is incapable of placing. 
The most important thing is that Wooyoung is spending less and less time with Yeosang, and consequently, Hongjoong too is spending less time with Yeosang. And the visual truly didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at first. He wasn’t bothered or bent out of shape about the increase in their shady encounters or whatever it is they’re up to because he didn’t think it was too out of the ordinary. 
Then Wooyoung asked for a raincheck on their typical Thursday evening ramen stop. Yeosang saw him darting off to the studio moments after, and he didn’t return to their shared room until Hongjoong did. (Yeosang definitely did stay up waiting for either man to return; he didn’t need the confirmation, of course, he could have just assumed, but what’s several hours of lost sleep to him now?)
And after that, Hongjoong canceled one of their producing sessions together saying that he was simply too busy that day to check in on Yeosang’s progress. He had promised to look over his work and listen to his song when they returned to the dorms, but when Yeosang packed his things and left the studio for the day, he saw a very distinctly Wooyoung-shaped figure dipping into Hongjoong’s studio behind him. 
Yeosang thought he wasn’t one to get jealous. He thought he had learned that lesson the painful way when Wooyoung started casting him to the side to spend time with San instead of him, then when Hongjoong and Seonghwa called him out for the behavior, the issue had been resolved and Wooyoung returned to giving him ample amounts of attention. So truly, Yeosang cannot understand why he feels the small stirrings of jealousy in his gut whenever he sees Wooyoung running to Hongjoong. And even worse are the nagging jealousies that come when the leader is the one to seek Wooyoung out. Yeosang cannot for the life of him rectify that one, because why is he jealous of his best friend for simply spending time with Hongjoong?
He cannot admit it out loud, but in the nights where he finds himself staying up late and waiting for Wooyoung to return with Hongjoong, he thinks deeply about those curling tendrils in his gut. 
Yeosang has come to the conclusion that for once in his life, he does not like this because it makes him feel like he is missing out on something. That is a startling realization in and of itself because Yeosang has never been one to care much about those sorts of things — it just isn’t in his character or personality — so at first he denied that possibility and tried to look to other sources. When nothing else could ever make sense in his mind, Yeosang just had to accept that this was a new and growing feeling to work through. And perhaps it has something to do with the other emotions swirling through his gut that he refuses to name.
Which lands him where he is now: outside Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s door with hand raised and ready to knock on the wood. It isn’t Wooyoung and Hongjoong inside though, not at this time of day, but rather Seonghwa, the one who has the most amount of contact with Hongjoong and also the one who vacates the room whenever Wooyoung comes running over. So if anyone is going to be able to cure Yeosang’s illness that is Not Knowing What the Fuck is Going on, it will 100% be Seonghwa. Yeosang dares to bring his knuckles down on the wood and raps against the door several times before he hears Seonghwa make a noise from inside the room. 
“Hey, Woo, he’s not here right — oh, Yeosang!” Seonghwa blinks several times at the man before him as though he cannot believe that it is Yeosang and not his best friend standing in front of the door. “Are you looking for Hongjoong too? I’m afraid he’s still holed up in the studio right now.”
“W-What? No, no, hyung, I was looking for you,” Yeosang says with a quick shake of his head. Seonghwa’s eyes remain wide in surprise as he speaks, but once the words process, the older steps to the side and beckons for Yeosang to enter the room.
“Don’t be a stranger, of course, sit wherever you’d like. I was just reading a bit.”
Yeosang has no earthly idea how long this conversation might take. For all he knows, it could take a whopping two minutes or perhaps thirty minutes that falls into a lecture about jealousy and all that. So he resolves to perch on the edge of Hongjoong’s lower bunk, nudging one of the stray plushies to the side to make room for himself while Seonghwa pulls the chair from the desk to sit across from Yeosang. It already feels like something of an intervention, and Yeosang makes a note to choose his words very carefully to avoid sounding too upset or jealous about the situation. 
“Has Wooyoung mentioned anything to you recently?” He starts, but perhaps that isn’t the best place to start at all, he realizes once the question is already out.
“Is there something he is supposed to have mentioned?” Seonghwa asks, tilting his head further to the side. 
“No, like — that’s not what I mean. Has he said anything—” This is the moment of truth for Yeosang. Either Seonghwa picks up on his jealousy in an instant, or he receives a straightforward answer and moves on with his life with at least a bit of understanding. “—anything about why he’s spending so much time with Hongjoong-hyung these days?”
“Hm?” Seonghwa seems genuinely perplexed by the question for a considerable amount of time, eyes darting down to look at a spot on the floor as he mulls over the question. Then, he shakes his head a few times and draws his lips into a tight purse. “Not to me at all, no. Has something happened between you two? Is he not speaking with you? Did you have a falling out? If something happened the—”
“No, no, hyung, please,” Yeosang interjects in a rush. Seonghwa cuts his thoughts short with a small frown, and Yeosang knows he is going to have to offer more of an explanation than that to ease the older’s worries. There is a bit too much shame burning at his gut presently though, a nagging and lingering feeling of embarrassment as he realizes he will inevitably have to admit that he is jealous of all things. And that is going to be another issue because Seonghwa knows him almost better than Wooyoung does, and the older for sure knows that Yeosang is never one to be jealous. 
“It’s okay if the two of you are having issues, Yeosang. It happens to everyone, especially people who have known each other for as long as you and Wooyoung have. I’m not trying to insinuate anything of course, but I just want you to know that there’s nothing to be ashamed of if that’s the case.”
God, Yeosang wants to crawl into a tiny hole and die more than anything else right now because fuck this feeling.
“I’m just — I’m only asking because h-he turned San down the other night to spend time with Hongjoong. He has never done that. He and San are th-the closest and they never turn down the opportunity to spend time with each other, and it seems so odd that he would deny San so that he could spend time with‌ Hongjoong instead, and that’s just weird. It’s weird, and he doesn’t talk about it with me, he doesn’t mention it or anything like that, then he goes off and forgoes our plans together to be with Hongjoong too. And that’s fine, yeah, like they should spend time with each other, I don’t mind that part. Just… Hongjoong did it too and rain checked one of our producing lessons because he was apparently too busy with his own work and — and...”
Yeosang’s voice dies in his throat when he finally brings his gaze up to look Seonghwa in the eye, and the expression staring back at him is so raw and understanding that Yeosang cannot physically force any words out at that point. A small smile curls at the edges of Seonghwa’s lips, he huffs out a quiet laugh, and then his chin dips closer to his chest as the laugh overwhelms him. Yeosang, on the other hand, feels positively childish and stupid now that the admission is out there.
“I told them people would start noticing,” Seonghwa mutters more to himself than to Yeosang, but the younger picks up on the comment nonetheless. So he does know what’s going on between them. “Listen, Yeosang, yes, Wooyoung and Hongjoong are spending lots more time together. Yes, they are being a bit inconsiderate when it comes to the other members, but they are… at a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together. I have talked with both of them before about being a bit less persistent and intense, as well as prioritizing other people before themselves. But I am more than happy to talk with them about it again if it would help satiate your hurt feelings a bit?”
At least Seonghwa didn’t call him out on his jealousy. He should be grateful for that much. Why isn’t he grateful for that much? Oh, because of whatever the fuck Seonghwa’s rant is supposed to mean. ‘At a phase in their relationship with each other where it’s easy to get caught up and spend unearthly amounts of time together?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean? Seonghwa is still smiling like he knows, and Yeosang is fully aware that Seonghwa does truly know because there is that lingering odd emotion behind his eyes again that Yeosang despises so much.
“I — wait, what?” Yeosang’s brain is running on pure fumes at this point. The confusion has mounted into something immense, and he hardly remembers why he was so upset at this point now because of the bewilderment rushing through his system.
“I can talk with them again if you’d like?” Seonghwa repeats his previous offer, eyes wide as he blinks at Yeosang and awaits an answer.
“No, the — the part about their relationship?”
Seonghwa glances off to the side, and he seems to think over what he’s said before his eyes widen a bit in shock.
“A-Ah! Um, no, don’t — I don’t mean anything crude, of course!” Anything crude? Yeosang’s mind certainly wasn’t going down that path before but now that Seonghwa has mentioned that, it is now. And frankly, that throws him off more than anything else because he never would have assumed that that is what was going on behind those closed doors or anything. He has known Wooyoung swings both ways with little care since well before Wooyoung knew himself, and well, Hongjoong told the whole group that he’s pansexual when they chose him to be the leader because of transparency and honesty or some shit like that but... still. Yeosang would expect something like that to happen between Wooyoung and San but with Hongjoong? He can’t even imagine that — not that he wants to imagine it! He would never do that!
Yeosang’s cheeks flush a deep red when he realizes what Seonghwa means, and the older in turn figures out that Yeosang’s mind was indeed not traveling down that path and he has just caused it to. It’s a disaster, truly, and neither of them seem put together enough to even try to recover the situation. All Seonghwa does is push up from his chair and move towards the door. Yeosang doesn’t have time to wonder what the hell he’s doing or if he’s preparing to kick Yeosang out because when Seonghwa opens the door, it’s Wooyoung who stumbles in with a huff.
“Hyung,” he whines through a pout, not even taking notice of Yeosang’s presence on the edge of Hongjoong’s bed. “He sent me back here and said to wait another hour for him to come home. A whole hour!”
Seonghwa bears a strained smile, and he must look over in Yeosang’s direction because only then does Wooyoung shift and take note of the other presence in the room.
“Oh shit, were you guys — do I need to leave?”
“No, Woo, we were just having a chat,” Seonghwa insists, waving the younger man in. Wooyoung regards his best friend with a wary stare that has Yeosang’s stomach turning in knots several times before he swallows the feeling down. “Um, but since you’re here, this is the perfect opportunity to chat! Between the two of you!‌ So why don’t I step out and—”
“No, hyung, it’s okay.” Yeosang is the one to utter the words, and he does so as he pushes to his feet and away from Hongjoong’s bed. This is not what he came here to do, and yes, Seonghwa is right: they should talk, Yeosang should be honest about his feelings, but he also knows Wooyoung. He knows Wooyoung will whine and complain about Yeosang being too clingy or pointless jealousy or roll his eyes and unintentionally make Yeosang feel even worse about how he feels because that is just the way the other man is. It’s not from a bad place or a toxic place, merely Wooyoung’s way of handling issues, and inevitably Wooyoung will come crawling back to Yeosang’s bunk and cuddle him for a week straight before even thinking to hang out with another member. But right now, that isn’t what Yeosang wants. Mostly because he does not want to acknowledge his jealousy or the fact that it isn’t solely directed at Hongjoong spending time with Wooyoung. It is also directed at Wooyoung who is taking away from Yeosang’s time with the leader. Yeosang needs to work out those feelings before even thinking to discuss the issue with either man.
Seonghwa fixes him a startled glance, one that flits back to Wooyoung’s form several times, but Yeosang ignores it in favor of walking towards the door and replacing Wooyoung’s spot in the doorway. The oldest doesn’t seem pleased with his avoidance, as evidenced by the way he clamps a hand down hard around Yeosang’s arm before he can fully step out. 
“I don’t want to have to play the parent and mediate between the two of you here,” he hisses more to Yeosang than to Wooyoung, but the youngest of the trio hears the words nonetheless and blinks over at his best friend with a bewildered expression. It’s then that Yeosang knows with full clarity that he is completely and utterly caught. Even if he tries to escape now, Wooyoung will come running after him and demand an explanation. “If he hears it from you then he’ll be more like to pull his act together and realize that I’m being serious.”
“Is something going on?” Wooyoung inquires at last, voice much fainter than it had been before. Yeosang manages to slip one glare in Seonghwa’s direction before he dares to face Wooyoung head-on. 
“I just came to ask hyung why you seem to be spending so much time with Hongjoong these days.”
And Wooyoung has the nerve, he has the audacity, to actually look startled by that statement. Like he cannot believe that someone has caught on and realized how much time he’s spending with the leader, and he cannot believe Yeosang would go to Seonghwa of all people for answers. When Wooyoung shifts to look at the oldest, Yeosang doesn’t miss the way he sends a panicked expression of ‘what the fuck did you say to him’ and that’s when Yeosang’s mind really spirals.
At this point, he just wants to know what the fuck is going on so he can push his mind away from the gutter, but Wooyoung’s flushed cheeks and nervous glances are doing nothing to deter Yeosang from having the thought that perhaps Hongjoong and Wooyoung are spending their time together in a more intimate manner and he really needs to —
“He’s bothered by the fact that you keep shrugging him off for Hongjoong,” Seonghwa states, bringing Yeosang’s rampant thoughts to a screeching halt in an instant. “Which I told you both about before but you insisted th—”
“Hyung, it’s really okay, I just meant it as a harmless question, I’m not — it isn’t a big deal.” 
“Is this about me rain checking you on Thursday?” Wooyoung asks. He points an accusatory finger in Yeosang’s direction, and the older of the two is certain that he doesn’t mean it in an accusatory way but he feels pinned and cornered by the gesture either way. “Yeo, I’m really sorry about that. I just wasn’t feeling up to going out that day and—”
“But you went to hyung’s studio right after and didn’t come back until Hongjoong-hyung did,” Yeosang counters before he can stop himself. That lingering bitterness returns to his gut as he mentions the memory, along with the subsequent memory of Hongjoong pushing him to the side for time with Wooyoung.
“In the studio?! Are you two out of your minds?!” Seonghwa hisses and reels on Wooyoung, who blinks back like a deer caught in the headlights. 
“It’s — Yeosang is right there, hyung! Can’t you save the lecture for later? Or go chew hyung’s ear off instead of mine? It was his idea!”
“His idea? His idea! Of course it was. Let me guess: he felt bad for pushing me out of the room so much?” Seonghwa scoffs none too quietly. The bigger picture is started to come together, the puzzle pieces are slotting into place, and Yeosang is edging dangerously close to what he believes to be the truth. 
He can’t stand the suffocation that comes in the air a moment later, almost like his own throat is trying to choke him and end him right then and there. So, he does the only logical thing he can think of and slips out of the open bedroom door as Seonghwa snatches Wooyoung’s ear and tugs mercilessly on the cartilage. The content of their argument is no longer important, not with the knowledge Yeosang has gotten so far, and it’s frankly stupid that he is even feeling so… whatever he is feeling right now. He wanted an explanation, he wanted to know what secrets they were hiding behind closed doors, and all the signs are pointing to one thing Yeosang doesn’t want to imagine.
Yeosang unfortunately doesn’t make it even a foot outside the door before he is running face-first into someone, and judging by the height of the person he nearly just clobbered to the floor, it has to be none other than Hongjoong. Yeosang steadies himself on the other’s shoulders to keep them both from tumbling, and he brings a shaky gaze to the person’s features in search of a confirmation.
Sure enough, it’s Hongjoong, alright. Beanie squishing his mop of hair down, thick black-rimmed glasses sitting atop his dainty nose, and a bag slung over his shoulder that must contain his producing equipment. Yeosang says the only thing he can think of, which seems to be a common trend with him today.
“You’re back early.”
Hongjoong regards him with an expression of confusion and bewilderment, then Yeosang realizes that Hongjoong only told Wooyoung that part so he shouldn’t really have that knowledge, but then again, what’s the big deal? Why should it be odd for Wooyoung to tell his best friend something about their leader? Is that a secret for just the two of them to know as well? Or can Seonghwa be included in their little secret circle too?
“Yeah, I — I thought I would be able to focus but I kept getting distracted so I just packed up and came home to work on stuff instead.”
Yeosang dares to ask.
“Can I come by and work with you on some stuff then?”
“A-Ah, maybe in a bit? I’ll text you and let you know. I really need to hunker down on these…” Hongjoong trails off and rubs at the back of his neck. Yeosang doesn’t miss the way the older man glances off towards the door to his and Seonghwa’s bedroom. 
“Yeah, of course, hyung, no worries,” he forces out, adding a tight smile that he hopes will ease Hongjoong’s stress a bit. The older nods as Yeosang steps out of the way, heading into the bedroom without further ado. 
There is no real reason for Yeosang to stick around so he doesn’t; he merely heads for the living room and makes himself at home on the couch, perching on the cushions in a way that gives him a clear view directly down the hall. He has one more lasting curiosity, and he’s determined to get the answer right now rather than waiting god knows how long for the next opportunity. Thus, he waits. Two minutes pass, then ten, along with some slightly raised voices and Yeosang is sure that Seonghwa is chewing them both out in there, but he can’t make out anything of what they’re saying. Then after twenty long minutes, Seonghwa slips out of the room with a huff and a grumble, eyes rolling nearly to the back of his head, and he snaps the door shut behind him. He doesn’t even glance Yeosang’s way as he dips into the kitchen, although that’s probably because he’s covering his eyes with one of his hands and mumbling about always getting a headache because of those two. 
Still, Yeosang waits. Another two minutes meld into ten. Wooyoung still hasn’t left the confines of Hongjoong’s room. It’s odd and peculiar in his mind because Hongjoong insisted that he needed to focus, he needed to work, but Wooyoung has to be — and Yeosang says this as lovingly as possible — the most distracting human being on the face of the planet. 
It is enough to grab Yeosang’s attention by the horns and drive him to push up off the couch. He doesn’t think twice about what he is doing, that twisting and churning in his gut is the only thing on his mind right now, but he doesn’t stop his warpath until he reaches the end of the hallway where Hongjoong’s door sits on the right. A few seconds of precious silence pass, then he leans towards the wood and presses his ear to it. 
For a moment, he feels entirely too foolish because he doesn’t hear a thing other than the quiet clicking and tapping of what must be Hongjoong’s computer. He turns to leave with his chin tucked to his chest in shame at the thought of how certain he was they were doing something… something in there. Then there’s a quiet moan, followed by an airy giggle that can only be Wooyoung, and a sharply hissed ‘stop that’ from Hongjoong.
“But I’m having fun, hyung. Aren’t you having fun?”
“The only thing I’m supposed to be having is you sit still while I work. You promised to be good if I came home early.”
“And you promised to make me see stars with how hard you’d fuck me. That’s not happening right now either, is it? So why don’t we…”
Yeosang’s brain turns to radio noise. Television static. Microwave beeping. All three at once. Or is that an actual microwave beeping? Is Seonghwa cooking something? He has no clue. He can’t see straight either honestly, mind too overwhelmed with what he has just heard, and shaky legs carry him back to his own door before pushing him inside with as much haste as he can muster. 
Fuck me.
Wooyoung said the words with undeniable clarity. Yeosang shakes against the door, hand still clasped tight around the knob as though it will do him any good. 
Fuck. me.
It really shouldn’t be a big deal. Yeosang should not be bothered. It’s only natural and expected for men of their age to have pent-up sexual frustrations, and of course, they have every right to exercise those urges however they want. Given their orientations, they would slot together perfectly too so why, why, why is Yeosang so bothered right now? It’s shameful the way his jealousy twists further in his gut, and he slides down the door until he’s planted firmly on the ground with knees drawn up to his chest.
He feels so fucking foolish. Thinks back to all the times he and Wooyoung have cuddled and been in close proximity over the years. The way he tried to be daring and bridge the gap between them. The lingering curiosity of blossoming emotions in his chest. The moment he realized where he sat on the spectrum when Wooyoung’s laugh sent such intense feelings of pure love through his chest that Yeosang couldn’t look him in the eye for well over a week after. Hands searching for Wooyoung’s in the dark, clasping tight together, and the fleeting sensation of lips dragging over Yeosang’s knuckles. Breathy laughs exchanged in the dark, soft admissions of love that Yeosang refused to amount to anything more than a friendship but secretly — oh so secretly he wished for more. Wooyoung’s touchy affections that came in the form of sloppy kisses on the cheek and teasing bites to the neck and shoulder. Then came San. Wooyoung stealing away from him. Hands finding San’s instead, hugs and cuddles going to the other man as Yeosang fell further and further away without even trying to pull Wooyoung back. He watched him go without putting up a fight.
What did he do then? The only thing he thought was logical: seek out the member he has the most in common with, the one who seems to understand him better than anyone, one of the view who understands and appreciates his need for quiet moments of peace.
Hongjoong.
Late nights in the studios, backs hunched and aching as they bent over a computer and Hongjoong showed him the steps to his artistic process. Compliments shared in amazement and wonder because Yeosang could not fathom how incredible Kim Hongjoong could be, yet still the older managed to exceed any expectations like it was the easiest thing on earth. The pride that would swell in Yeosang’s chest when Hongjoong congratulated him on a job well done, when he would mention the younger on his lives, the excitement in his hyung’s eyes whenever Yeosang would pop his head into the studio late at night. Hongjoong clasping a hand over Yeosang’s own shaky ones as he practiced for a cover. Whispered praises and reassurances when Yeosang would miss a note or slip up. Slow patience that waited for him without fail. Yeosang hates that he was foolish enough to let those feelings of admiration morph into the desire to be close to Hongjoong all the time, to cling to him, kiss him, have him for himself. 
And he especially hates that he was never able to bury those dwindling emotions of love and affection he felt towards Wooyoung, because now? Now it’s like he is living a nightmare. Watching the two people he has feelings for come together in a relationship that holds some of the greatest moments of intimacy. And sure, yes, Yeosang acknowledges that it could be something purely physical for them, but that doesn’t negate the fact that the two people he has feelings for are fucking and have been fucking right under his nose for the last several weeks. He wishes he could be heartbroken or something along those lines because that would be a normal reaction. That would be typical and explainable and easier to manage than the sensation in Yeosang’s gut. In that moment, he gets some clarity that it is, in fact, not jealousy of either party. It’s a desire to be involved, a want to be there with them, and a need to be involved. Did he mistake it for jealousy? Every time he saw one running to the other, he thought it was merely envy that twisted his gut, but now… now Yeosang is coming to realize that it wasn’t envy or anything like that. He just wanted to be another piece in their puzzle because those two are the ones he’s closest to (and effectively has all too real feelings for), and it pains him so much that his eyes burn. 
There are tears on his cheeks now surely, but his body has entered an odd state of numbness that he can’t piece together and cannot bother to piece together either. He doesn’t think twice before pushing himself back up to his feet, hands shaky and unstable as he moves for the dresser and pulls out a fresh set of clothes, dead set on taking the bathroom and washing his feelings away in the shower. What Yeosang doesn’t account for, however, is someone being in the hall at the same time he is, and he runs face-first into a chest.
“Yeosang?”
Fuck, and it just has to be Yunho of all people too. The one who probably won’t let Yeosang get by without drawing all his worries out of him and making sure he’s alright. And no, he’s not alright, and he doesn’t really want to be right now, but Yunho doesn’t need to know that. So Yeosang shrugs off the hands that find a home on his arms and tries to step around Yunho to get to the bathroom that is so so close yet so far away because of the wall standing before him.
“Are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine, leave it alone, Yun,” Yeosang mutters through his teeth. But apparently, he can’t have a moment’s peace because Seonghwa must have heard the litany of questions and gotten concerned as well, his voice coming up behind Yeosang like a cruel shadow.
“Yeosang? Is something wrong?”
Yeosang doesn’t turn around but he doesn’t need to because Seonghwa closes the distance between them and steals a glance around his shoulder nonetheless. Yunho seems to be in the dark still in the very least, but Seonghwa will most certainly be able to figure out the source of his tears.
“Yeo… this — how bad is it? This is why I wanted you two to settle it then and there!”‌ Seonghwa exhales. His brows draw together to form a tight line that pains Yeosang to look at.
“Settle what?” Yunho inquires, blinking between both men, and his grip on Yeosang’s arms finally relents in that moment of shock. Yeosang takes the moment of freedom like a lifeline and pushes past Yunho to dart into the bathroom without further ado. Neither man behind him can catch him before he snaps the door shut in their faces, twisting the lock and trapping himself in the small room.
“Yeosang!” Seonghwa calls through the door, and he brings his fist down on the wood as though it will do any good.
“Maybe we should give him some space, hyung…” Yunho’s voice fades into the static running through Yeosang’s mind, and he no longer processes their conversation as he cranks the handle of the shower to let the water heat up. The pain in his chest also dulls, but only when he lets hot water run over his bare back, forehead pressed to the tiled wall. 
Things are catching up to him now. Reality is seeping in and he is realizing all the things that have been happening behind their backs for the past several weeks. He blames his own imagination for the flashes that come through his mind as he tries to wash the feelings away. Wooyoung pressed under Hongjoong’s weight, fervent touches and lingering kisses. The same hands that held Yeosang’s dragging over the contours of muscles and skin, filling in the gaps that Yeosang wishes he could have filled. Or perhaps Wooyoung would curl himself into Hongjoong’s lap and hold the leader as close as possible as he so dearly loves to do with the others. 
Perhaps it is more intimate and special with the two of them, however, and maybe Hongjoong fucks up into Wooyoung like that, holds him close while he works in the studio, and maybe that’s what they do when Yeosang is turned away. He bets that Hongjoong praises Wooyoung too as he loves to give all the members a litany of praises whenever they do something well, and Yeosang’s desires turns ugly when he thinks of Wooyoung being praised for being good for Hongjoong, nice and pliant and perfect for him, and fuck Yeosang wants to be part of it so badly it hurts. He wants Wooyoung to stand off to the side and watch, wants his own best friend to see him fall apart under Hongjoong’s touch. Wooyoung is such a brat that he probably acts that way in bed as well, and Yeosang feels nearly light-headed as he imagines himself being the one to receive Hongjoong’s attention and subsequently Wooyoung’s as well like he would be some example for Wooyoung to follow on how to be good. 
Yeosang doesn’t feel disgusted by the thoughts but rather the way his own body responds to the images floating through his mind, the way his member reacts to it, and the temptation to reach down and stroke himself to completion is intoxicating. He cranks the water instead so that it’s nearly icy on his skin to keep his mind from wandering too much into the inappropriate territory even though it’s already there.
The cold is barely enough to stave off Yeosang’s churning gut because the sound of that quiet moan and Wooyoung’s delicate giggle are in his ears again even as he steps out of the shower and wipes the droplets away with a towel. It persists even when he leaves the bathroom, darting into the hall to make a break for his room in case anyone was outside waiting for him, but thankfully this time he has the hallway to himself and can make it to his shared room with Wooyoung without much issue. Yeosang only says ‘much’ because just before he opens the door, a noise carries down the hall and to his ears. One that is unmistakable but most likely only audible to someone like Yeosang who is standing in the hallway. 
Another moan. This one is much more high-pitched and strung out than the last, bordering on the territory of a squeal, and based on the all too loud thud that follows, Yeosang can picture what’s going on with too much clarity.
“Hyung!” Yeosang’s heart surges forward in his chest, and he whips around like someone else has spoken the word, but it’s very clearly Wooyoung’s tone. Nonetheless, Yeosang shoves himself into his bedroom and snaps the door shut behind him as quickly as possible, flipping the lock for good measure because his cock is too hard to be ignored now. Part of him wishes he had more willpower to avoid this, and yet he’s too weak in the end. 
Less than five minutes later, Yeosang finds himself curled under the sheets of his bunk, eyes blown wide open and staring at the ceiling above his head as he drags the flat of his hand over his cock. The friction is delectable at best but still not enough to satiate the arousal blooming in his gut. Arousal that only deepens when his mind recreates the images from earlier. This time he’s with them, imagining himself sitting off to the side as Hongjoong works on‌ Wooyoung’s body.
“Sit still and watch me punish him.”
Curse his imagination for being so potent that he can practically hear Hongjoong’s words on his ears.
“Touch yourself for us, Sangie, you know you want to,” Wooyoung would purr, still giggling even though he’s in trouble and about to be punished. 
Yeosang presses his palm down harder against his cock. He won’t last more than two minutes like this; he’ll probably come like a teenager in less than that if he jerks himself with too much haste. So he forms a tight ring around the base of his cock and squeezes just hard enough to stave off the heady sensation in his veins. He debates going down to grab the small bottle of lube from Wooyoung’s end table. That’s too much effort right now, he needs his release soon, and he frankly doesn’t have enough patience in his body at the moment to finger himself open.
“You’ll be good and come when Wooyoung does, won’t you, Sangie?”
He wants to so badly. He knows he would be so good under Hongjoong’s control, he would take anything given to him because he wants that so badly, he wants someone to take the control from his hands and be at their mercy. He wouldn’t fight it or talk back, he would be so good it hurts, and a weak mewl tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. 
Yeosang flings his free hand up to cover his mouth as though someone is going to hear the quiet noises, and when he presses the butt of his hand down again, more whimpers fall out. He can’t stop the noises nor does he try to any longer. The desire for a release is too overwhelming, mixed voices touching his imagination and seeming too real for Yeosang to handle as he ruts helplessly against his palm for that delicious bit of friction. And when he comes, he comes hard and fast, eyes rolling back in pleasure as his hips continue to cant up into his hand. He moans out Hongjoong’s name as he comes and doesn’t stop to think about quieting the noise this time in his fog of pleasure. Come spills over his palm only to be smeared over his skin when he can’t stop the movements of his hips. If he thought that would end the vision in his head, he was quite wrong, because after the haze covering his thoughts disperses a bit, it comes rushing back.
“I thought you said you’d be good for us, Sangie. You came before me.”
“I told you to come with Wooyoung, baby. Why couldn’t you do that simple task?”
“You always say that you’re going to be good for us, Sangie. Yet you can’t even seem to live up to those words.”
The tears that hit Yeosang’s cheeks next are ones that come from pure overstimulation and eustasy. Heat swarms his skin, a pretty pink blush that causes his whole body to flush, and his hips just don’t stop moving even as his mind cries out for a release from the self-inflicted torture.
“Pl-Please, Woo,” Yeosang whimpers to the air above him. “I’ll — I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, p-please.” It is all too much for him to handle right then because the next thing he knows, he is coming yet again, but it’s a painfully dry orgasm since he didn’t give himself any recovery time. He releases a choked sob that breaks into a strangled moan instead, then his hips finally rest and give his poor leaking member a break. The only thing that can leave his lips for several minutes is a series of gasps and pants, chest heaving desperately as he tries to catch his breath.
When he finally recovers, Yeosang pulls himself down from the bunk and strips once more now that he’s gotten the fresh set of clothes dirty and soiled. It’s as he is pulling a shirt over his head that the door handle jiggles to no avail.
“Sangie? Did you lock the door?”
Fuck. Wooyoung. He won’t have any knowledge of what Yeosang has just done, or that Yeosang knows what he was just doing himself, but the red hot shame burning in Yeosang’s gut. He just jerked off to the thought of his best friend and his hyung including him in their personal business. Yeosang doesn’t even know if either of them would be okay with such a thing, and yet —
“Yeosang? Are you in there or not?”
“S-Shit,” Yeosang exhales to himself, tugging his shirt the rest of the way and rushing to get to the door. He flips the lock and swings the door wide open to greet Wooyoung with wide eyes and mussed hair. Wooyoung’s hair is damp and clinging to his forehead; he looks fresh out of a shower, and Yeosang has no doubt that he and Hongjoong showered together after their… activities. “Yeah, sorry, S-Seonghwa-hyung wouldn’t get the hint that I didn’t wanna talk to him right now.” It’s only a partial lie, enough to cover what Yeosang was actually up to, and Wooyoung seems to buy it by the way he shrugs his shoulders quickly and brushes past Yeosang to get in the room. He doesn’t stay long, however, coming in simply to fetch his phone before darting back out of the room. Yeosang wants to ask where he is going, but at the same time, he can probably guess that it has something to do with San or Hongjoong again.
Yeosang doesn’t stay to watch him go. Instead, he dips back into their shared bedroom and shuts the door, intent to sleep through the rest of the day and push these lingering thoughts out of his mind. It’s only when Wooyoung returns hours later whining to himself about how San never lets him win a game that Yeosang dares to speak. He waits until his friend curls up in bed and gets comfortable, throat lodged with emotion.
“I…”
Wooyoung doesn’t offer even a noise of acknowledgment. Maybe he’s already fallen asleep. Perhaps Yeosang shouldn’t say anything or he should say this for another time, but right now he just wants to see. Test the waters. Gauge his reaction.
“I know about you and Hongjoong-hyung, Woo.” Curse him for stuttering when he did, and curse him for not having the balls to say it outright. How hard should it be for you to say to your best friend “I know you’re fucking our group leader under everyone’s noses”? Saying something cryptic like “I know what you’re doing with hyung” sounded too scary in Yeosang’s mind, but maybe he could have had a better approach. Especially since the bunk under his creaks and the sheets jostle, then a Wooyoung-shaped shadow darts across the room. The door swings open, Wooyoung slips out, then it slams shut, causing way too much noise for the hour.
Yeosang isn’t sure what he was expecting. He knows Wooyoung avoids confrontation. This should have been expected, yet as Yeosang curls onto his side and faces the wall, the tears that slip out his eyes are more painful than before, and he thinks vaguely in the back of his mind that Wooyoung doesn’t want him to have anything to do with the relationship he shares with Hongjoong.
Morning is awkward and stilted. Wooyoung most definitely went to Hongjoong’s room and told him what Yeosang said; Yeosang can see it in the way Hongjoong’s gaze slips between both boys throughout breakfast. He is a bit thankful that Hongjoong doesn’t look towards him with the same amount of fear and shame as Wooyoung did earlier, and there is no disgust or embarrassment in his stare either — only concern. Seonghwa is still worried about Yeosang’s crying in the hallway yesterday, as is Yunho because the dancer got Yeosang coffee and a plate of food, staying by his side all throughout breakfast with a hand placed over Yeosang’s thigh the entire time. The tension is palpable, and there’s no doubt that everyone knows something is wrong in some way.
Seonghwa keeps sending Hongjoong looks across the table, even as San and Yunho try to bring some energy back to the table and dispel the awkwardness. Those glances are probably the thing that prompt the leader to speak. And so, Hongjoong is the one to breach the subject, but he does it in a way that Yeosang could never have expected, and based on the way Seonghwa chokes on his syrupy coffee, the older had no clue this was Hongjoong’s plan either.
“Some of you have noticed that Wooyoung and I are spending a lot more time together these days.” Yeosang dares to look over at his friend, but the man is staring down at the table with cheeks so red and flushed that he’s nearly purple. “It’s because we’re fucking.”
There goes Seonghwa choking on his coffee, Mingi gags around a mouthful of rice, Yunho’s hand squeezes painfully on Yeosang’s thigh, San bites back a laugh and cheeky smile, and Jongho drops his spoon on the edge of the table in shock. Another clatter follows as the same spoon hits the ground, but Jongho doesn’t even move to pick it up and instead stares directly at Hongjoong like the leader like he’s just kicked a dog or something.
“Does anyone have a problem with that?”
Hongjoong’s gaze finds Yeosang immediately. Oh, so the question is targeted at him. Yet even as everyone else at the table denies there being any issue with such a thing, Yeosang can’t bring himself to shake his head or deny it. It’s not that he does have a legitimate issue with it, he merely wishes to slot himself in their space and be part of it. He can’t very well admit that over breakfast with the rest of the group though, especially not with how Wooyoung reacted last night. Hongjoong doesn’t wait for a response.
“Just because we have this relationship now doesn’t mean any of the group dynamics should or have to change. We are by no means exclusive or closed off to just each other. Understood?”
A chorus of affirmations greet Hongjoong, and Yeosang actually joins in this time despite the clench of his heart.
If Hongjoong expected the conversation to fix everything on a whim, then he would be sorely incorrect.
Wooyoung continues to avoid Yeosang. He won’t come into the room at the same time as Yeosang, only comes to sleep if San or Hongjoong kicks him out of their rooms, and is always either sleeping or gone by the time Yeosang gets up. Despite Yeosang constantly looking over at his friend, Wooyoung almost never looks back, and when he does, his expression twinges with something Yeosang would almost call guilt. He tries not to think about that bit too hard or too much.
Hongjoong, on the other hand, actually makes an effort to do things differently. He invites Yeosang to the studio much more often, asks him to accompany him as he picks up food for the rest of the group at least two times a week, and Yeosang finds himself frequenting Hongjoong’s room to work on producing practice a lot more as well.
Yeosang can’t complain because it’s what he wanted and missed so dearly, and he should be content that at least one of his crushes is giving him such devoted attention, but he is loathe to admit that part of his heart is dedicated to Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. That part is shattered in a thousand pieces every time Wooyoung sees him and turns to go in the opposite direction. He doesn’t last longer than a week with Wooyoung’s behavior, and the breaking point is a Saturday evening when Yeosang steps out of his room to see Wooyoung leaving Hongjoong’s with an unreadable expression. Hongjoong steps into the doorway right after, hand chasing Wooyoung’s and catching hold of it before the younger can dip out of his reach.
And now, Yeosang suddenly feels like he’s watching something that he shouldn’t be because Hongjoong places his free hand on Wooyoung’s cheek and leans his forehead against the other man’s, lips moving quickly and quietly as they speak to each other. Wooyoung nods several times before stepping back and turning around. His body tenses a bit as he sees Yeosang standing at the other end of the hall. They regard each other with equally wide eyes and lingering stares for several seconds before Hongjoong prompts Wooyoung to move by slapping the flat of his hand down hard on his ass. Wooyoung releases a startled yelp, cheeks flushing a dark red before he rushes to San and Yunho’s door and enters without even bothering to knock.
Hongjoong finally looks at Yeosang. The younger can’t describe the feeling that swoops through his gut, but Hongjoong is smirking at him and making him feel like that infinite space between their bodies is nonexistent. It’s like the man is standing right before him and cascading warm breath over his lips and neck, then he tilts his head to the side and motions towards his bedroom.
“Did you still wanna get some work done?”
Yeosang responds with a quick nod and dips back into his own room to snatch his phone up off the dresser before fully stepping into the hall to meet Hongjoong by his door.
“No laptop?” The older regards him with a curious stare even as Yeosang shakes his head a bit.
“Just wanna watch you work some, I think. If that’s okay?”
Hongjoong’s lips twist into a gentle smile, and warmth fills his gut.
“Of course, Yeo, come on.”
Yeosang half-expects the room to reek of sex and debauchery, or for the bed to be a wreck, but that’s not the case. Everything is almost too perfect by Hongjoong’s standards, like Seonghwa came through and raided the room before Yeosang stepped in. In fact, he’s almost certain that Hongjoong went the extra mile to change the sheets, but he doesn’t comment on it even as Hongjoong settles down in the bed and pats the empty space next to him. Yeosang climbs up beside him, heart in his throat and threatening to choke him out.
“I think I’ll be able to finish this one either today or tomorrow so I can submit it for the next album,” Hongjoong mutters. Yeosang watches with wide and careful eyes as he tugs his laptop into his lap, pulling the music file up to pick up where he left off. Yeosang is frankly not paying any attention to what’s happening on Hongjoong’s screen. He’s too busy looking at the man’s side profile, the way his brows draw together in concentration. Hoodie drawn over his head with headphones pressed over one ear and the other pressed further back on his hood.
“Hyung…” Yeosang trails off, unsure of how to voice what it is he’s after, and Hongjoong’s lingering stare only makes him more nervous. But then, the older shifts in the bed and presses his back further against his pillows. He lays his laptop to the side, for the time being, throwing his legs out, and Yeosang inhales sharply at the way Hongjoong motions to the space between them. Is he asking Yeosang to —
“Do you wanna lie down?”
Oh. Of course. Why would he think Hongjoong wanted something else when he and Wooyoung have each other for that? Still, Yeosang slips between Hongjoong’s legs and presses his head to the man’s stomach like it’s glass. Once he’s fully situated and comfortable, Hongjoong pulls his laptop back, placing it atop Yeosang’s stomach without missing a beat. The angle is a bit awkward on his neck, but Yeosang doesn’t complain because he gets to be this close to Hongjoong and in his arms like this. It’s practically intoxicating, and Yeosang almost feels light-headed by the time Hongjoong shifts their position to tug Yeosang further up on his chest, letting the younger drop his head into the crook of his shoulder.
Hongjoong doesn’t speak; he merely lets Yeosang rest against him like that with the familiar beat of his track playing faintly through his headset, and Yeosang watches on with less interest than usual as he drags things across the screen and into place. Then, after some unknown amount of time, Hongjoong decides to pipe up.
“When I talked to the group last week about Wooyoung and me, you were the only one not to say you were okay with the arrangement.” He murmurs the words softly, and Yeosang nearly doesn’t pick up on them at all. The moment they process though, he stiffens in Hongjoong’s hold. Although the man isn’t holding him there against his will, Yeosang feels somehow trapped and unable to escape.
“W-Wooyoung — he ran away from me.” Maybe that’s an exaggeration but the man did straight up bolt out of the room when Yeosang brought it up.
“He’s afraid that you hate him.”
That has Yeosang pulling himself forward, knocking Hongjoong’s hands away from where his laptop sits in Yeosang’s lap. Yeosang has enough decency to snap the laptop shut and push it to the foot of the bed before shifting to face Hongjoong. The look in the leader’s eyes is unreadable when they finally look at each other.
“Why would I hate him?”
Hongjoong merely lifts a brow in response. He seems to weigh his next words on his tongue and teases the corner of his lips a few times before deciding to speak.
“Do you not?”
“Of course not,” Yeosang mumbles. “I don’t hate either of you.” He dares to look towards Hongjoong once more, eyes finding the leader’s and searching for any sort of reaction but there isn’t much there. 
“Then why didn’t you come talk to me as well?”
“I figured…” Yeosang doesn’t really have a response for that. He was cowardly more than anything else and afraid of what sort of conversation they might end up having. “I thought you would want the conversation at breakfast to be the last of it.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up for the past week.”
“What?” Yeosang didn’t even have the slightest clue that Hongjoong was wanting to talk about it. Since everything fell back into their usual routine, he simply assumed that meant everything was fine.
“When you told Wooyoung that you knew about us, what were you referring to?”
Yeosang’s cheeks heat up a bit, and he has to drop his gaze to the bed.
“I heard the two of you… I heard — y-yeah.”
“Heard what?” Hongjoong presses again, and this time Yeosang releases an exasperated sigh.
“Christ, hyung, do I need to spell it out? I heard you both moaning a-and it didn’t take much to realize what you were doing!” That pulls a loud laugh from Hongjoong’s lips, and he throws his head back with the sound.
“That’s not what he thought you heard, Yeosang,” Hongjoong says through the laugh. Yeosang swallows hard in response, sitting back a bit more and straightening his back. “He thought you heard what came after that, which is why he’s been so avoidant with you.”
“What came after?” Yeosang echoes, instinctually gripping the sheets in his fists. Hongjoong’s lips stretch a bit further into a smile.  
“He also didn’t hear the noises coming from your room after because he was in the shower.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Yeosang is so fucked. Hongjoong heard that? What all did he hear? Yeosang remembers moaning Hongjoong’s name a bit too loudly, but he also said Wooyoung’s name, so which did he hear? Or did he hear both? How could he not say anything about it for an entire week?
“But frankly, I didn’t hear it either since I was with Wooyoung in the shower.”
Yeosang can hardly breathe at this point, eyes stuck and fixated on some point on the mattress, and that’s not what Hongjoong wants apparently because a single finger curls under the base of his chin. Hongjoong lifts his head until they can look each other in the eye again.
“Seonghwa told me that you had been crying before taking a shower yourself. Then after you came out, he went to check on you but your door was locked, and… he heard you inside moaning my name.”
“I-I can ex-explain. It’s not — it’s not what it looks like and I—”
“And Wooyoung’s.”
“Hyung, I…” Yeosang is fumbling to figure out what he can say to get himself out of this situation. This is probably the worst thing that can happen right now, and if Hongjoong knows, then Wooyoung most likely knows too and maybe that’s the real reason behind his avoidance these days. Maybe he’s so disgusted by what Yeosang did that he doesn’t want to even look at him again. But the look in his eyes has never been disgust — only some odd mixture between guilt and sadness. 
“I didn’t tell Wooyoung that part honestly. I figured… he wouldn’t take my word for it. So I think it would be better to show him, don’t you?”
“Show him what?” Yeosang exhales. Hongjoong presses forward so far that his breath ghosts over the younger’s lips, and Yeosang chokes on thin air.
“That you want him just as much as he wants you.”
“He… he wants me?” The disbelief is palpable, but Hongjoong is patient as always, releasing a small hum and shifting behind Yeosang to grab hold of his laptop and headphones again. 
“The thing he thought you heard that day — I enjoy riling him up maybe a bit too much, and I kept teasing him with the thought of someone walking in and catching us. The only person he wanted to interrupt was you, and he kept saying your name over and over like a prayer, so loud that he thought you heard him. And thus your reaction… or rather your confrontation scared him and made him think that you were disgusted by it.”
Yeosang feels like he’s been thrust underwater, ears ringing and head clogged with a myriad of thoughts that refuse to make any sense whatsoever. He understands the basic gist of what’s going on in the very least. Hongjoong knows he jerked off to the thought of him and Wooyoung, Wooyoung wants him to some degree, and Hongjoong is pressing closer and closer now that he has slid his laptop off the bed and tucked it under the bunk. And while Yeosang certainly doesn’t want him to stop, there is the nagging thought in the back of his mind that while Hongjoong said that Wooyoung wants him to some degree, Hongjoong never said whether he wants Yeosang in the same way or not.
“B-But what — what about you?” He whispers, too scared to raise his voice any further than that. Hongjoong hums as he leans a bit closer, and Yeosang falls back onto his elbows. “Do y-you want me too?”
“I certainly wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t,” Hongjoong says in response. He pauses in his push forward, giving Yeosang precious time to think and breathe easy for a few minutes. “But I won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, and I won’t push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. Meaning that… if you want this but are uncomfortable with the idea of having an audience, we don’t have to have one.”
Audience? 
When the realization sinks in, Yeosang draws his hands up to cover his face and hide the rampant blush that takes over his cheeks. Hongjoong is quick to respond, hands coming up to join Yeosang’s and gently clasp around his wrists.
“It’s okay, Sangie, baby, you don’t need to hide.”
Baby. Kim Hongjoong is positively trying to kill him on the spot. 
“You’re so pretty, so so pretty especially when you blush like that,” Hongjoong continues. His voice comes out in a soft murmur, coating Yeosang’s ears like honey and dripping down to his gut where the threads of arousal begin to coil. 
“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales in a tone so breathy and whiny that it nearly doesn’t come out at all. 
“I need a firm yes or no on whether you want this before anything else, Yeosang.” Hongjoong begins to pull away, and that is the breaking point for Yeosang’s sanity practically because he lurches forward and snatches Hongjoong by the collar of his hoodie, wrenching him back down to hover mere centimeters over Yeosang’s lips.
“Yes, hyung, the answer is yes, please, for the love of all that is good in this world, please just—” 
Thank god Hongjoong cuts him off or else he would have just kept on babbling for an eternity. Yeosang falls quiet with a startled gasp as Hongjoong plants his lips atop the younger’s, and the arm that holds him up buckles under the sudden weight on his body. The both of them tumble down to the mattress at an awkward angle, Yeosang’s arm trapped behind his back and Hongjoong’s foot tangled in the sheets, but neither of them pay much attention to those issues. The priority seems to be each other’s lips, not that Yeosang is complaining about the way Hongjoong rushes to swipe his tongue over Yeosang’s lower lip. He grants entrance to his mouth with perhaps too much ease. The moment Hongjoong’s tongue breaches his lips and begins to explore his mouth, Yeosang chokes out a wanton moan that reverberates through the older’s mouth and pools heat in his gut. 
It’s only then that Yeosang decides to resituate their position some, and he kicks at the sheets to unravel them from Hongjoong’s feet before pressing up harder against the leader’s body. Hongjoong seems to get the hint and leans back as well, letting Yeosang have a few precious moments of control as he eases Hongjoong back onto the pillows and straddles his hips like this is what he was made to do. Yeosang is already panting and out of breath, cheeks alight with embarrassment still, but he looks an absolute vision in Hongjoong’s eyes with blond hair enveloping his forehead like a halo and lips glistening with spit. He finds a shred of sense left in him to ask one more question before he lets Yeosang dive back in for more.
“Do you want Wooyoung to watch?”
And this admittedly is not a fantasy Yeosang ever pictured or imagined. He figured he would be the one doing the watching, he would sit on the sidelines while the two fawned over each other and fucked, but this? This is something tantalizing indeed, and Yeosang would be damned if he didn’t take this golden opportunity now. Especially with the knowledge that both Hongjoong and Wooyoung have thought about him in the throes of passion.
“Is that what you thought of when you were jerking off, Sangie?” 
Yeosang can only whimper in reply, hands drawing up from where they sit atop Hongjoong’s chest to cover his blazing cheeks again, but Hongjoong is quicker this time. He keeps Yeosang’s hands right where they are by clasping his fingers around the other man’s wrists and watches on with pure admiration as Yeosang writhes a bit atop him.
“Hm? Is it, darling? Does dirty talk make you shy? We don’t have to do that if it makes you too uncomfortable. Give me a safe word as well just in case we need to stop.”
“No! No, no,” Yeosang denies in haste. “I… um, we can u-use red because that’s easy to remember.” Hongjoong offers a hum in approval, and Yeosang has to swallow his nerves before admitting the next bit. “I l-like being embarrassed a bit.”
“Do you, Sangie? Tell me what else you like.” Hongjoong is practically purring the words, and Yeosang thinks it will send him spiraling over the edge. The teasing glint in the older’s eyes is lethal too, turning Yeosang’s insides to mush and his limbs to jello, and he can’t think of anything he wants more right now than for Hongjoong to utterly wreck him on this very bed with Wooyoung watching on. 
“I like — like being good a-and hearing that I’m doing well.” Yeosang slips his hand around Hongjoong’s. He slowly tugs it upwards, guiding the man’s hand to his neck and measuring his reaction the entire time with wary eyes. Hongjoong seems to forget what breathing is for a moment, and when he finally does breathe again, it’s merely a sharp and painful inhale of air because Yeosang is closing Hongjoong’s own fingers around his neck and blinking at him with wide and innocent eyes. “Being choked feels really nice too. And I want Wooyoung to watch… to watch you ruin me.”
Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around his neck, and Yeosang knows that his words have a visceral effect on the man just by that reaction. He also feels the way Hongjoong’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants, right against the curve of Yeosang’s ass, and that brings a swell of pride to his chest.
“Do you want to ruin me, hyung?” He asks, batting his lashes for good measure, and fuck, it’s so worth it. It’s so worth it because Hongjoong growls in response and pushes Yeosang down so that he’s flat on the bed once more. 
“Fucking hell, Yeo, how can you be so — holy fuck, you’re so perfect.” Hongjoong maps a path from the tip of Yeosang’s nose down to the collar of his shirt with his lips, leaving a wet trail behind, and once he reaches the space hidden behind Yeosang’s shirt, he uses two fingers to tug the material down just enough to expose more of the milky skin underneath. Yeosang doesn’t have time to ask what he’s doing despite the confusion rushing through him because Hongjoong latches his lips around the spot, teeth nipping at the skin until red blooms under his touch. And god does it feel euphoric to be marked by Kim Hongjoong, to be claimed by him and wanted by him, and Yeosang is certain that all reason will leave his body before Wooyoung even gets involved. 
Hongjoong chooses that opportune moment to pull back. First, he admires the way Yeosang’s chest heaves, the way sweat beads his brow and causes his hair to cling to the skin there, and the way Yeosang already somehow looks so fucked out and beautiful that it’s unimaginable. He weaves his hands down the expanse of Yeosang’s chest to catch hold of the hem. Ever so slowly, Hongjoong tugs upwards, and it’s so painstakingly prolonged that Yeosang loses his patience before the shirt even reaches his sternum. He yanks the fabric from Hongjoong’s grasp and pulls it up over his head on his own, throwing it off to the side haphazardly without even bothering to check where it falls. He knows how to play Hongjoong so well, just what he needs to do to get under the man’s skin, and he does it with such ease that it’s laughable. Because the second Yeosang leans back to the bed and flutters his lashes up at Hongjoong, the leader is hissing through his teeth so loudly that the air comes out in a whistle. 
Then he grips his hoodie but the hem and tugs it over his head, but he leaves the plain undershirt underneath on for the time being as he twists around and catches hold of his phone. Yeosang’s arousal deepens as he watches Hongjoong tap furiously at the screen. Then he has an idea that is probably far too risky but also far too alluring to pass up on.
“H-Hyung, could you…” Yeosang loses the confidence to finish the question, hand stretched midway to Hongjoong’s. Still, Hongjoong pauses and looks directly at him. His dark eyes are glazed with lust and arousal, and they bear such a seriousness to them that Yeosang has to swallow around nothing to get his next words out. “Send him a picture,” he tries again, pushing more willpower in this time. “With your hand around my neck.”
“You’re unreal.” Hongjoong’s tone bears a quake this time, audible proof that Yeosang is having such an effect on the man, and the younger revels in it as he tugs Hongjoong’s hand down to the column of his throat. 
That’s all the incentive Hongjoong needs to bend over the other, and his hand squeezes a little bit around his throat. Yeosang’s cock twitches between his legs, right where his hyung’s crotch rubs atop his, and the sensation is so heady and thrilling that Yeosang dares to rut against Hongjoong again. He pushes his tongue out just a little bit, catches the tip between his teeth, then shows off the somehow innocent for the camera when Hongjoong angles it above his face. 
“For fuck’s sake, Yeo, I’m not gonna be able to wait for Wooyoung to drag his ass in here if you keep that up.” Hongjoong snaps the picture as quick as he can before tossing his phone off to the side in a huff.
“Keep what up?” Yeosang asks before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. The pair spend about two seconds staring at each other, Yeosang with a playful gleam to his gaze and Hongjoong with a more looming and dangerous one that has Yeosang’s stomach doing small backflips in anticipation. They’re interrupted by the sharp slam of a door somewhere in the dorm, and that’s followed by a skid and another smack of what sounds like a body on the wall. Another three seconds pass before the door to Hongjoong’s bedroom swings wide open, hitting the wall so hard that Seonghwa yells down the hall about disregard for common decency. 
“Can you at least pretend to be civilized, Wooyoung? You don’t need to act like an animal just because you’re about to get boned! And keep it quiet this time!”
The newcomer comes in a blur of dark hair and tossed garments, and Wooyoung doesn’t even wait for the door to be closed completely before he’s stripping down to his underwear.
“I’m here! I’m here, hi, fuck, oh my god, I’m here. Why didn’t you get me sooner, hyung?” Wooyoung hisses as he shuts the door in a rush, flipping the lock before stepping further into the room. 
“I didn’t tell him he’d just be watching,” Hongjoong whispers into the shell of Yeosang’s ear. It draws a blush out of the younger man, one that persists as he and Wooyoung make eye contact. Hongjoong drags the flat of his tongue across Yeosang’s cheek and presses a sweet row of kisses to the same line of skin a moment after. “Why don’t you break the news, darling?” 
“Break the news? The fuck, hyung? Did you invite me just to kick me out?” Wooyoung protests.
“I told you to trust me, you brat,” Hongjoong counters, passing a half-hearted glare towards the younger with a small sigh. “You’re here to watch the show.”
“Well, I’ll do that fucking gladly,” Wooyoung huffs. He makes for the bed, moving to join Hongjoong on top of the mattress, but Hongjoong slings his legs over Yeosang’s body and steps onto the floor to block Wooyoung’s way instead. Yeosang scrambles to push himself up onto his elbows. With wide eyes, he glances between the pair, swallowing around nothing when Wooyoung rakes his eyes over Yeosang’s bare chest leading down to the bulge in his sweats. Hongjoong places a hand over Wooyoung’s chest, and slowly but surely, the leader backs him up until he stumbles back into Seonghwa’s desk chair. “Hyung?”
“I said you get to watch. Not touch.”
“What? Hyung, you can’t seriously—”
“Per Yeosang’s request. Can’t you do it for him, my baby?” 
Wooyoung sucks his lower lip between his teeth and inhales sharply at the small pet name. Yeosang watches on with wide and curious eyes, from the way Hongjoong drags his hands over Wooyoung’s tan skin to the way Wooyoung’s hips tremble in an attempt to stay on the chair.
“Good boy,” Hongjoong hums when the younger doesn’t budge after a few moments. He slips back to the bed, still smiling from ear to ear as he moves, and he greets Yeosang with a wet and sloppy kiss. It’s a mess of teeth and spit, something inherently dirty in the best way possible, and Yeosang can’t hold back the light groan that rumbles through his throat when Hongjoong brings a hand down to palm at his erection. “You still want me to ruin you, darling?”
“Always,” Yeosang exhales against his lips. At that, Hongjoong leaves him with one more chaste kiss then dips lower, not wasting any more time before pulling something out from under his mattress. Yeosang’s body tenses in anticipation at the sight of it, and even more so when Hongjoong curls his fingers around the band of his sweats.
“Be as loud as you wish. Wooyoung is such a sucker for pretty moans,” Hongjoong teases, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Hyung!” Wooyoung protests in an instant, and he nearly bolts up from his chair. Hongjoong levels him with a glare though, the power dynamic slipping through and baring itself to Yeosang’s eyes, and it would taste a lie if he said he doesn’t want Hongjoong to dominate him in such a way as well. 
“Today is all about Yeo, but I’ll be kind enough to let you touch yourself too. But you can only come after he does.”
Wooyoung doesn’t voice his protests, but Yeosang can see the disapproval in his eyes. There is no opportunity to dwell on it for long because cold air suddenly hits his crotch and he feels his cock spring loose without warning. He draws his legs together to hide himself, a sudden bashfulness taking over him within seconds. Hongjoong drops his clothing off to the side, and it hits the floor with a soft thud before Hongjoong is back between his legs and easing his knees apart. 
“Don’t hide yourself, darling,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Yeosang’s knee. “You’re so beautiful for us—” another kiss, this time higher on the inside of his thigh “—so precious and perfect. Next time I’ll let Wooyoung worship every inch of you, I promise.”
Next time. That insinuation has Yeosang preening, hips canting upwards towards Hongjoong’s body, and the older man stills him with a deftly placed palm on his cock.
“A-Ah, hyung,” Yeosang chokes out. The pressure increases a bit, drawing another louder moan from Yeosang’s lips. Hongjoong takes the opportunity to spread his legs once more, although this time he makes sure to press them wider than before, and Yeosang has never felt more exposed in his life. Hongjoong is still kissing a path up his bare leg when he reaches for the bottle of lube. The click of the cap sends a jolt through his nervous system, cock twitching weakly on the vee of his hip. 
“Hm, are you that excited, baby? You’re doing so well already. Wooyoung always complains about how slow I am when we do this.” Yeosang can do nothing but blink down at where Hongjoong is perched between his legs. Wide eyes meet his and maintain a steady sense of eye contact even as he pours some lube onto his fingers. “Am I going too slow for you, Yeosang?”
“A… a little bit,” Yeosang admits, shifting his elbows on the mattress. 
“But you’re doing so well for us, darling. Being so good and patient, hm? What more could you want?” Hongjoong trails a finger from the head of Yeosang’s erect cock down to the base. Even the slight touch has Yeosang whimpering in need, and he tries to rut his hips up into the older’s hand, but Hongjoong doesn’t let him. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll ruin you good and nice, okay?”
“Please,” Yeosang pants. Hongjoong traces down further with his lubed fingers, using his index finger to rub small circles around Yeosang’s hole. With his other hand, he takes hold of Yeosang’s cock, then without warning, he encircles the entirety of his member in the wet heat of his mouth. “Oh m-my god, hyung!” Yeosang throws his head back against the bed. His back arches painfully with the sensation, but Hongjoong doesn’t let up until his nose brushes Yeosang’s crotch. It is vastly impressive but Yeosang is far too engulfed in the feeling of Hongjoong’s mouth around his length to think too much about it. What he does know is that Hongjoong takes him all the way to the back of his throat without gagging in the slightest, and Yeosang wouldn’t call himself small by any means, so if that’s not the hottest thing he’s ever witnessed, he isn’t sure what could top it.
Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut as Hongjoong ravishes his cock, taking in the feeling of the man’s tongue tracing along the underside of his length. Hongjoong certainly sucks dick like it’s his last meal on earth and his only purpose in life. Though the number of blowjobs Yeosang has received are few and far between, he knows this is going to ruin all blowjobs in the future for him unless Wooyoung is the one to give them. Hongjoong keeps circling that index finger around his rim. It’s teasing and prodding, like he’s trying to get Yeosang to cave and beg for it, but Yeosang is too lost in the heat of Hongjoong’s mouth to even think to ask for it. Ironically, it’s Hongjoong who grows impatient as time passes on, and he at last slips one finger past Yeosang’s tight ring and buries the digit two knuckles deep in him.
Yeosang blindly reaches down to grab Hongjoong’s wrist. He desperately tries to push his finger deeper, to prod further and find that elusive spot that feels oh so good, but Hongjoong keeps him from doing so. The leader slips off his cock with a lewd pop, leaving a trail of spit to dangle between his lips and the head of Yeosang’s cock. The effort of having Yeosang so deep for such a long period of time shows on his face: his eyes are a bit puffy and red around the edges, tears glisten in his waterline, and the tip of his nose gleams just a little brighter now. Yeosang could get drunk off the sheer sight of him like this.
“Be patient, darling,” Hongjoong reminds him as he pushes Yeosang’s hand away from his own. “You’re so tight that I wanna spend some extra time prepping you, okay?”
And yes, Yeosang is touched by the gesture in the very least but he’s also quite annoyed because he wants Hongjoong deeper and deeper with each passing second. He only gets part of his wish when Hongjoong descends back on his leaking erection, scooping up the trail of precum and saliva with the flat of his tongue and diving back down on him. Somewhere in the haze of his thoughts, Yeosang thinks that having his dick sucked by Kim Hongjoong is a wholly spiritual experience. 
That point is proved further when Hongjoong pushes a second finger into his hole and gently settles it into his heat without moving for several seconds. Then, he twists his digits to the side and begins to fuck those two fingers in and out of Yeosang’s tight ring as slowly as possible. That has Yeosang’s moan devolving into choked mewls and whimpers, and his thighs tremble under the repetitive double stimulation that never stops even for a second.
Hongjoong has a talent at taking people apart it seems because he does it with Yeosang so easily that the younger is already seeing stars without having come a single time yet. Wooyoung is thoroughly enjoying the scene before him with rapt attention, and for once he actually remains rather quiet as he watches on, aside from the occasional moan and groan. The feeling of Wooyoung’s stare firmly planted on his body, from his face down to where Hongjoong’s face meets his crotch, leaves Yeosang feeling even more light-heated. He’s fairly confident that this with either send him spiraling into unknown territory or he will just straight up pass out after coming once. 
There is no time to worry about those minute details in the coming moments: Hongjoong works a third digit into his hole, and when he does, he pulls off Yeosang’s tortured cock with a lopsided grin. 
“Isn’t he so good and pretty for us, Woo baby?” 
“Y-Yes, hyung,” Wooyoung answers quickly. 
“Are you getting close, angel?” Despite Hongjoong’s stare being directed at Yeosang, the latter is vaguely aware that the question is meant for Wooyoung, but still, he nods a few times for good measure. That draws a laugh from Hongjoong’s chest. The noise resonates in Yeosang’s body, leaving him with a steady thrum of pleasure, and Hongjoong speeds up the pace of his fingers as he pumps them in and out of Yeosang’s hole. “You look so heavenly like this, Yeosang. Panting and mewling as I fuck your hole with just my fingers. You’re so desperate for something bigger, aren’t you?”
Yeosang is losing control over his own inhibitions and slipping into a place he rarely goes. 
“Y-Yes, yes, hyung, I’m — want more. Want more, please, give me more,” he babbles back, too lost to think about piecing full sentences together. Hongjoong is quick to pick up on the shift, especially in the way that Yeosang’s body turns to jello in his touch and becomes fully pliant under him. The leader snakes a hand up Yeosang’s side and finds one of Yeosang’s own hands on the bed. He laces their fingers together, clasping tight at the younger’s hand while offering a sweet and gentle smile. 
“Hyung has you, darling,” he murmurs. “I promise.” It’s the reassurance Yeosang needs to let go, and he lets himself rut down on Hongjoong’s fingers. They find a rhythm like that — with Yeosang’s half-hearted and shaky bounces and Hongjoong’s timely thrusts — and each jab to his prostate has Yeosang crying out for more. He wants to hold off, wants to make it last longer, come while Hongjoong is balls deep inside him, but Hongjoong seems determined to draw at least one orgasm out of him before they go any further. 
And that’s exactly what he does.
Less than three minutes later, Yeosang has his free hand wrapped around his shaft as Hongjoong fucks into his hole with three fingers and a sense of reckless abandon. It’s purely euphoric, and the quick jabs to his prostate are what sends him fully over the edge. Come spills over his hand, coating his knuckles and fingers in the sticky white substance, and Yeosang lets the steady jerks of his arm come to a rest. Hongjoong, however, just continues to pump his fingers in and out of Yeosang’s hole, not waiting for the man to recover before he is back to toying with his prostate. 
“Hyung, t-too much, ah — ah, hyung, I can’t!” It is a delicious bit of overstimulation, and one that leaves Yeosang exhausted and panting for air. Hongjoong stops before it begins to hurt thankfully, slipping his fingers out of the younger before mapping a path with his lips up to Yeosang’s neck.
“Are you with me, darling?” He hums into the crook of his neck. Small love bites enunciate the words, and Hongjoong drags his tongue over each little mark he paints on Yeosang’s skin. 
Yeosang honestly feels like he is floating on a different plane of existence. He doesn’t process any of what Hongjoong said, only the touches and cool sensation of air hitting the path of spit Hongjoong left on his chest. It’s concerning enough to make Hongjoong sit back and look Yeosang directly in the eye.
“Yeosang, baby, are you with me?”
“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, hyung. I’m — I’m here, yes,” Yeosang replies this time as Hongjoong pulls him out of the state of delirium.
“What’s our color, doll?” Rather than responding, Yeosang preens at the name Hongjoong calls him, a lopsided smile covering his lips.
“I like that, hyung. Can you — can you call me that again please?”
“I need your color first, Yeo. Is it too much? Do we need to stop?” Hongjoong cradles the younger’s face in his hands, caressing the soft skin of his cheeks and trying to make the younger look him in the eye. Even the smallest touch sends Yeosang spiraling, like he’s swimming through dark water and can’t figure out what’s going on around him.
“I don’t want to stop. I’m… I’m okay,” Yeosang insists through a nod. “I just need a few minutes to recover a bit. ‘m still green, I promise. I’m too — t-touch is too much right now.” Hongjoong nods and retracts his hands from the visual’s face, and Yeosang instantly inhales a deep breath of air like he’s been starving for it all this time. 
“Have you come yet, Woo baby?” Hongjoong shifts his focus over to the other man in the room, and Yeosang follows his stare over to land on where Wooyoung sits. Said man shakes his head quickly, fingers loosely wrapped around the base of his cock. “Can you last a little while longer?”
“Y-Yeah, of course, hyung.” 
That has Hongjoong smirking again, and the leader slips off the bed to stand up straight.
“Good because I’ve changed my mind,” he hums, stepping closer to where Wooyoung sits. He steps around the back of the chair. Yeosang makes brief eye contact with the man as he lays his hands down on Wooyoung’s shoulders, eyes glinting a bit under the fluorescent lights. “Yeosangie is going to ride your pretty little cock, and I…” Hongjoong curls his fingers around Wooyoung’s jaw and shifts the younger to look at him. He pushes two digits past Wooyoung’s lips, pressing down so hard on his tongue that Yeosang can hear the way Wooyoung gags around him. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth just the way you like. Understood?”
Wooyoung mumbles around Hongjoong’s fingers, taking them deeper into his mouth without complaint, and that seems to be answer enough with the way Wooyoung blinks up at his hyung through his lashes.
“Good boy,” Hongjoong praises before pushing his fingers further down Wooyoung’s throat. “Yeosang, darling, take your time. There’s no rush, okay? Woo could sit here with my hand in his mouth for hours and be satisfied.”
Yeosang spends the next several minutes just observing the scene before him. It’s oddly euphoric to simply stare at them in this state, Wooyoung still seated in that chair and Hongjoong standing behind him with an arm curled around the front of his body. Wooyoung seems to be working his tongue over Hongjoong’s fingers based on the dripping trail of saliva that pools at the corners of his lips every few minutes. And Hongjoong was correct: Wooyoung seems perfectly content like that, happily lavishing the older’s fingers as Hongjoong cards his other hand through Wooyoung’s dark hair.
By the time Yeosang finally pulls himself to his feet, his legs are somewhat wobbly and shaky, but he drags himself to where Wooyoung is seated with little issue. While his own cock has softened down to a semi-hard state, Wooyoung is still rock hard and twitching between his legs, hands clasped tight around the arms of the chair. Yeosang drops himself to Wooyoung’s lap without warning, and it startles the man so badly that he bites down hard on Hongjoong’s fingers. Hongjoong takes it without complaint, only letting out a soft hiss and yanking Wooyoung’s hair until the younger moans around his hand.
“Are you feeling alright, doll?” Hongjoong leans over Wooyoung’s head to get in Yeosang’s space. The visual greets him with a quick and daring kiss, then places both hands atop where Wooyoung’s sit on the armrests. 
“Perfect as can be.”
Hongjoong smiles into the kiss. He pulls off too soon for Yeosang’s liking, but Yeosang understands why he does so after a moment because the leader slips his fingers out of Wooyoung’s wet mouth and takes to stripping himself of the rest of his clothes like the rest of them. In the break of touching from Hongjoong, Yeosang and Wooyoung finally look at each other — Yeosang with teeth sunk deep into his lower lip, and Wooyoung with eyes glazed in lust.
“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” Wooyoung admits after a second. 
“Well, you don’t have to wait any longer,” Yeosang replies with a smile before taking Wooyoung’s face into his hands. Their lips meet in a shy kiss at first, one that is testing and exploring the waters around them before they let themselves get caught up in the thick air of arousal in the room. Wooyoung shifts his hands to Yeosang’s delicate hips. He presses his thumbs to the pale skin there with enough force to bruise, but the pressure is heady and delicious in Yeosang’s mind. 
Yeosang blindly fumbles around between his legs in search of Wooyoung’s cock, and once he finally has a hold of it, he pushes up on his knees to make space for Wooyoung to slip his cock between the cleft of Yeosang’s ass. They both release a shaky sigh into each other’s mouths, and Yeosang is ready to fully drop his hips on Wooyoung’s cock if not for Hongjoong stopping him at the last second.
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, darling, you need more lube.” Hongjoong disappears behind his back, and Yeosang doesn’t bother to see what he’s doing until he feels something cool hit his backside. His whole body jolts forward against Wooyoung, hands latching onto the younger’s shoulders as the chilly lube slips lower. That feeling thankfully doesn’t last long because Wooyoung presses back into Yeosang’s hole with much more ease this time. Yeosang sinks down onto his heels once more, taking the younger’s cock deeper and deeper until Wooyoung’s thighs are flush with his ass.
He looks up from Wooyoung’s chest, intent on kissing the man under him, but Hongjoong has occupied his mouth in the meantime. And if Yeosang thought seeing Wooyoung with fingers between his lips was a sight to behold, the image of him with a cock filling his mouth is even better. So good in fact that Yeosang goes a little breathless at the sight. Hongjoong has a hand wrapped around the back of Wooyoung’s head, tilting the younger towards his crotch where Wooyoung slurps messily around his member with no shame. Hongjoong coos soft praises down at the man all the while, and it spurs Yeosang to start moving his hips. He desperately wants to hear that praise as well, he wants them to tell him that he’s doing a good job and being so good for them. He is so needy for it that he works his thighs as hard as he can, bringing a pleasant burn to the muscles. 
Yeosang’s erratic movements have Wooyoung releasing a litany of moans around Hongjoong’s cock, hands fumbling to grasp at his hips so he can buck up into Yeosang’s tight heat with little sense of rhythm. There’s no real point in trying to find a rhythm with Wooyoung, Yeosang learns that quickly because every time he tries to build a steady pace, Wooyoung jerks up with a thrust that throws Yeosang off-balance. So, instead, Yeosang just focuses on his small bounces and grinding his hips down when there’s a break in Wooyoung’s thrusts. Wooyoung loses his control on Hongjoong’s cock soon as well, and his timed bobs turn into letting his jaw go slack so that Hongjoong can simply thrust into his mouth instead. The sounds in the room are purely erotic, too loud between the wet slaps of skin, Yeosang’s mewls, and Wooyoung’s gagged moans around Hongjoong’s member, but Hongjoong manages to be relatively quiet himself with only a few sporadic moans here and there. 
“Look at you, doll.”
Yeosang cracks an eye open, panting through a whimper when he sees the way Hongjoong is currently staring at him. 
“You’re doing so well for us. Look at him, Woo, look how good he is on top of you like this.” Hongjoong stretches his free hand out towards Yeosang. He reaches for the younger’s face, but Yeosang twists his neck at the last second and catches Hongjoong’s thumb between his teeth instead. He maintains a piercing stare with the leader as he sucks the digit into his mouth, effectively muting his noises. Hongjoong’s hips lose their rhythm, and he freezes with cock halfway down Wooyoung’s throat to just stare at Yeosang in absolute wonder for so long that Yeosang thinks he truly broke the man. Wooyoung slips off Hongjoong’s cock.
“Hyung,” he whines, tone so hoarse that Yeosang would be surprised if he could talk at all tomorrow. 
“S-Shit,” Hongjoong exhales, and it’s the first time that Yeosang has seen the man’s composure break in the slightest since this started. That causes his chest to swell with pride, heady arousal filling his veins, and he squeezes hard around Wooyoung’s cock. It’s all the younger needs to come, apparently, because Wooyoung releases a startled yelp that is so loud that Hongjoong has to rush to muffle him with his cock before someone comes rushing to the door. Yeosang isn’t expecting to come as soon as he does, but he is quick to follow Wooyoung in coming, hot spurts of come painting Wooyoung’s stomach and Yeosang’s hands where they rest atop Wooyoung’s sternum. He can’t stop moving, nor does Wooyoung let him with the grip he maintains on Yeosang’s hips, thus the two of them ride out their orgasms together like that until their bodies give out to the pleasure. 
Yeosang collapses forward, smearing the cum between their bodies further as he drops his head to Wooyoung’s right shoulder. Hongjoong is still working hard to come himself, and Wooyoung returns to his senses enough to assist him. Yeosang can only watch on from where he’s perched. Every muscle in his body aches and burns, but the lingering haze of his orgasms leaves him feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
“S-Shit, Woo, gonna come on you like this,” Hongjoong warns, fingers tightening around the man’s hair. Wooyoung pulls off his cock and replaces his mouth with a hand. He splays his tongue out before the head of Hongjoong’s dick, somehow managing to giggle as he strokes his hyung to completion. Hongjoong releases onto Wooyoung’s tongue and face, and Wooyoung takes every last drop until he’s milked Hongjoong dry. 
When he finally lets go of the man’s cock, Wooyoung turns back to Yeosang, twisting a hand through his hair and pulling his face up until they’re eye level, then he plants his lips atop Yeosang’s. The come is still there, sticking to his face and tongue, but Yeosang sinks into the kiss without complaint. Wooyoung thrusts his tongue into the visual’s mouth. Hongjoong’s come is salty and warm, so bitter that Yeosang almost chokes on it, but Wooyoung fares much better, although that’s probably because he has a lot more practice swallowing come than Yeosang does. Yeosang takes it as best he can, swallowing every drop that Wooyoung pushes between his lips, and he even goes so far as to clean the come off Wooyoung’s face between soft kisses. 
“Hyung,” Yeosang exhales, and he looks up to where Hongjoong stands beside them. Hongjoong seems to guess exactly what he wants with little trouble, bending at the waist to give him a sloppy kiss, and Yeosang hums into the touch. 
“What about me?” Wooyoung whines the moment they detach, and Hongjoong has enough mercy to offer a kiss to him as well.
“I’ll give you more in the shower,” he promises after pecking the younger’s forehead. “I’ll go get the water running. You two come join when you’re ready, yeah?”
Hongjoong leaves the two of them there, still seated in that damn chair with Wooyoung’s softened cock deep in Yeosang’s ass. They don’t move right away, and frankly, Yeosang is more than okay with that because his body feels weightless and unreal at the moment. 
“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?” Wooyoung offers through a smile. Yeosang only hums in response and tucks his head further into Wooyoung’s neck.
“I really… Wooyoung, I really like you. More than just sexually,” he admits, watching a bead of sweat trickle down the side of Wooyoung’s face. “You and Hongjoong both.”
“I like you both too, so I don’t see why that would be an issue.”
“Really?” Yeosang murmurs. And maybe it’s just the afterglow of the sex or the pent-up emotions rolling through Yeosang’s chest, but the corners of his eyes prick with unshed tears and his heart clenches in his chest.
“I thought it was obvious this whole time, yeah. And I know… I know Hongjoong feels the same even if he’s not always good at voicing his feelings all the time.” Yeosang squeezes his arms around Wooyoung’s midsection at that. A soft kiss lands on his forehead, then Wooyoung shifts their weight and tucks his hands under Yeosang’s thighs.
“Are you two dolts coming or not? I’m wasting hot water over here, hurry it the fuck up!”
“He loves us!” Wooyoung laughs into the shell of Yeosang’s ear, carrying him off to join Hongjoong in the bathroom before the leader complains again.
“Yeah, I think he does,” Yeosang murmurs more to himself than to anyone else.
﹎﹎﹎
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theredconversegirl · 3 years
Note
Hello! Can you recommend some fics about Sasuke discovering or finding out that he has a child without he knowing? Thanks in advance! :)
Hello nonny,
Thanks for stopping by! :) 
Yes, I can! I know a few fics and I even wrote one of them. 😂 I don’t know what is it with this theme, but I love reading it.😍 I partially blame the ridiculous amount of telenovelas I watched growing up. 😅
So, here they are:
Sasuke finds out he’s a Daddy 🍅🌸
A Cornucopia of Conundrums By: zgs1994 
"So what you're saying is; you had a one-night stand with some yakuza lordling and now you're pregnant with his baby?" [Rated M, on going]
This story is a rollercoaster of emotions, 😭 but so so good. Prepare your kleenex box!
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Fade Away By: TheRedConverseGirl 
"And don't even think of doing something stupid and taking him from me. He's my light.." and the only thing saving me of my shadows. [Rated M, incomplete/on going]
Ok, I know it’s been a while, but I got stuck in a chapter here and now I feel my writing changed so much, idk? I do want to finish this story this year though, and I plan to work on it soon. 😰
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Going Home By: anundecidedteen 
Ten years later, he found himself speeding back to the place he thought he had left in his rearview mirror forever. AU. [Rated M, incomplete]
This story hooked me up right away and I wish the author would come back and finish it. It feels like a romcom.
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Officer Uchiha AU By: @sun-summoning
Featuring Cop/Detective!Sasuke and Doctor!Sakura: prequel, part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi 
One of my favorites, omg this story is full of fluff and feels. 💕
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Submission By: missmocha77 
After an accident, Sakura is pregnant with Sasuke's child. She keeps the father a secret from her son, but people talk and Sakura finally decides to leave Konoha. However, Sasuke takes them hostage, and Sakura has to protect her son from his father. [Rated M, complete]
This story is plot heavy. Lots of twists and missions, but still a good read.
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Tightrope By: snowrabbit2012 
They met two years after the war. He was still an avenger. She still can't give up on him. Their fate entwined after that fateful day. Would she tell him of the consequence of that memorable night? Or would it be too late for Sasuke? [Rated M, complete]
I think this was the first ss fic I ever read and I still go back to it every now and then. This is loooong and the plot is elaborated too. Lots going on and drama from start to end. Good feels too. 💕
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Murphy's Law of Love By: zgs1994 / rec by @tanda-soal
Where fate – or Sasuke's overweening, pretentious family – drove them apart, but years later, their daughter brings them together again. Second Chance SasuSaku. BoruSara. AU. [Rated M, on going]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Dreams By: Weasleyweasel / rec by @kjt1124
He was living inside his mind, dreaming of everything he had ever loved but lost... he guessed he wouldn't see them ever again... And then he heard her voice... and then he finally saw her again... and then he was finally pulled out of his hellhole... [Rated M, complete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Changing Skies By: flowerslut  / rec by @kjt1124
Sasuke was destined to be alone. To lead a life of solitude. Or at least that was what he'd always told himself; he would've never thought that he'd have to fight for a family he never knew he had. He may have chosen to lead a life of isolation, but in the end, it wasn't meant to be. [Rated T, complete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Silent Cry For Love By: Separate Reality  / rec by @kjt1124
The girls leave after the guys broke their hearts. When they get back they are stronger, wiser, older and .. they have kids. [Rated T, complete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Irreplaceable Bonds By: Kyvena  / rec by @kjt1124
Sakura meets Sasuke after many years of lost hope and ends up pregnant with his child. In all her attempts to shield Kiza from the truth of who her father is the two end up his prisoner under orders. With only one way to save her child Sakura tells Sasuke the truth. Sasuke now has to work to gain the love of his daughter and her mother but the bonds may already be severed for good. [Rated M, complete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
The Gift By: xxIndigo  / rec by @kjt1124
Sakura's life had never been one for happy endings; every slash of prosperity was always equipped with a greater tragedy. This year was no different, for Sasuke was gone, and this time she was certain that he wasn't coming back. [Rated T, complete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Of Mister Grumpy and Stuffed Pooh Bears By: Sakura.Uchiha.614  / rec by @kjt1124
"You have cancer." Sasuke Scoffed. "You checked my heart." "Yes and I noticed you have signs of cancer." Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "You are verbally constipated." " What?" He hissed, glaring with murder in his orbs. "And you're losing your hearing." [Rated T, complete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Sasuke The Red Eyed Bastard By: Sakura.Uchiha.614  / rec by @kjt1124
R&R "Twinkle twinkle cups of roman. How I wonder what you taste like. Up above on your pedestal so high. Like a savor in the sky. Twinkle twinkle little roman. How I wonder why I love you more then pie." "You idiot! That's not how the song goes!" [Rated T, complete] Sequel: Her-Heart-Beats-Because-Of-You
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Faded By: Tokubetsu Rin 
In which Sasuke is an asshole and Sakura together with her daughter Sarada lives in a small village away from Konoha. But when Sasuke found them in their tiny home with civilians, Konoha's going to be hit by an incoming storm. Non-mass AU. [Rated T, incomplete]
🍅🌸🍅🌸🍅🌸
Ties of strings By: Hiatus indefinite 
"I have a daughter?" "No. I have a daughter! You were merely a sperm donor!" What is worst? Being a single mother or a father who never knew about his child. [Rated M, incomplete]
——————————————————————————
I might be forgetting a fic or two, so I’ll come back here later if I find them. 🤔 If anyone has recs that fit here, please let me know. Thanks! 💕 I hope you enjoy these stories. 😁
~ Happy Reading & Stay Safe!
xoxo
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bookishlyizzy · 3 years
Text
discussing the final season of carmen sandiego
*spoilers* umm....so yeah, i finished watching carmen sandiego, and i’m left in a state of perpetual sadness and despair. i feel like the ending of the show wrapped up wayyy too fast, and kind of left off on a bit of an unsatisfactory note for some of the characters. although i love the large and diverse cast of carmen sandiego, one of the drawbacks of having all those characters and arcs and storylines makes it harder to cram in a satisfying conclusion for everyone in a twenty-minute episode. so here’s what i would do if there was more time. 
let’s start off with the threads that i think were tied off pretty well: 
julia & chase devineaux: i wasn’t really a shipper of julia and devineaux but i actually really enjoyed their relationship throughout season 4. we see a lot of character growth from devineaux in the way that he interacts with julia and the world. julia pushes devineaux to become a better person, to see things with a broader perspective and from other people’s points of view. and he does really change a lot into an understanding person instead of the overconfident, arrogant detective we first saw him as in season 1. in addition, he also grows to respect julia as a person and partner, and it’s completely adorable how he looks at her while zari tells julia that they’ll follow her lead. also i love how he keeps wearing his lucky cat jacket from san francisco in season 4.  
el topo & le chevre: okay, i was pretty much shipping these two the minute they showed up on the screen together. you can tell how much they care about each other throughout the series. whenever one of them gets hurt, you can really see how they prioritize each other over whatever thing vile is planning. when things are good, they’re so sweet and they have so much fun together. and they take dumb cute selfies. they’re so, so adorable, and this season definitely brings the shipping fodder. and they end the season moving on from vile and running a food truck together. the only thing i’m mad about is that we definitely needed more screen time from them. 
shadowsan: i didn’t like shadowsan in season 1 but over the course of the series he really went through a lot of major character development and i love how he’s now basically a grumpy dad figure to carmen. the season ends with him finally reuniting for good with his brother in japan, and it’s a satisfying conclusion for his arc. i also love how he was the one to help carmen in the finale when she’s struggling with the brainwashing thing. which is way better than the brainwashing being resolved by some bs like true love’s kiss. (also carmen and gray are way too hurt and they’re super not ready for a relationship.)  carmen sandiego is a show that emphasizes the importance of family with this father-daughter duo, and i think that’s something really valuable. also i’m interpreting that shadowsan isn’t permanently moving to japan, but rather just visiting his brother. he’s still definitely going to be there for carmen going forward when she needs him. 
player & carmen’s friendship: i love this show for having a male/female friendship with absolutely no romantic feelings going on. it’s a solid friendship, and depicts a wholesome, supportive relationship. absolutely no qualms here.
and here’s all the stuff that needs expanding/fixing: 
tigress: i actually really love tigress as a character, and i personally think that there should have been more of her in the series. i would have liked to see more depth and motivation to her, since she has a lot of character potential. i don’t really know how i would rewrite tigress’s arc, because it’s virtually nonexistent and there’s not too much to go off of. i don’t think she needs a redemption arc, but i would give her more of a spotlight. (also low key fictional-crushing on her.) i would like to include sort of a tigress-centric episode, which can also generally be more expansion on the inner workings of vile.
cleo & saira: villain couple. villain couple. they need to be a villain couple, enough said. i would rewrite season 4 to have include an emotional downbeat moment in which saira struggles with being able to fit in with society and humans and being completely awkward at it while cleo, in all her regal and ettiquite-esque manners, tries to help. this wouldn’t really help with the main plot, but it would be humanizing and provide character depth. i feel like this could be the b-plot in the tigress episode somehow. 
coach brunt: you don’t betray family. at this point, coach brunt has lost the daughter she raised, who, in her mind, has basically backstabbed her entirely. coach brunt was also betrayed by shadowsan and left for the police to find, and in season 4, malestrom basically abandons her to drown. and it’s highly likely that somewhere in her backstory she’s been betrayed many times, likely by her own blood family, which would provide context for why she’s such a loyal person to vile, who she thinks of as her found family. in rewriting season four, i’m adding one extra episode that’s solely on the backstory of coach brunt. in this episode, we would explore brunt’s upbringing and the first time she is betrayed by someone she considers family. in my opinion, coach brunt was likely pushed to fall by another influence, but she also makes the conscious choice to choose revenge over moving on. potentially, we could also explore brunt’s budding friendship with the mechanic, who we never see again after that one episode, as well as a reflection upon this from her adult self. 
gray & the freaking mind control thing & his moral struggles: *sighs* i can see what the show is going for, but i really just don’t see it in the execution. the way that gray struggles with morality is like it’s an on and off switch. he’s either graham, basic civilian, or crackle, basically evil. in that one episode, he flip flops between being overly heroic, even taking out time from his day to specifically track down a random kid to return his wallet instead of just dropping it off at the police station or leaving it where he found it. and then the flip side is like he’s just robotically relapsing into stealing mode, where he just suddenly has to impluse to steal literally anything. i feel like this flip flop wasn’t really a good portrayal of his struggle and didn’t really demonstrate many active choices made by him. and the way that he’s just like “i’m actually just evil” when he confronts carmen at the lab is just super one-dimensional. i just don’t buy it that he flips to vile so quickly in the span of a few episodes. i feel like there should have been more active reflecting and the decision should have been dragged out longer. 
also it’s revealed in the finale that gray also changed his crackle rod to not go beyond a stun, and i think this was a nice touch, because it demonstrates his aversion to murder, which calls back to the first caper, in which he’s confronted with killing the archeologist at the excavation site. but he doesn’t end up having to make that choice, because carmen stops him. but this time, it’s his own choice to take that step away from vile ideals. i don’t think gray is ever going to be a “hero” of the traditional sense or have a complete redemption arc, because it just doesn’t fit him. to be honest, i don’t know what the future will hold for gray, but i definitely think of he will fall somewhere along the lines of red x (teen titans) or catwoman’s (in certain comic runs) gray morality. (and i think the way gray returns to vile kind of screws this up.) he’s still going to steal stuff sometimes probably, but he’s not going to straight up murder people. he would probably be the type to work for himself alone mostly, but be okay teaming up with the good guys sometimes. definitely no joining evil organizations tho. 
gray & carmen & the “i know you’re in there somewhere fight:” i definitely ship these two, but i think they’ve got a long way to go before they’re really ready to admit their feelings for each other. i’m happy that the “i know you’re in there somewhere fight” didn’t culminate in a kiss scene being the thing that snapped carmen out of the trance. because that is just so cliche and not the message of the show. instead, it’s shadowsan who does. and that makes sense going along with the themes of family. i think the issue with this i dislike how there is no more elaboration after carmen supposedly kills gray. this is her best friend. i would imagine that the reaction would be greater, since he was also her friend and teammate during the months they were both working under vile. and then when carmen’s brainwashing wears off, she agonizes that she killed her best friend. but that’s it. the “i know you’re in there somewhere fight” is the last screen appearance of both of them together. then it’s directly cutting to taking down vile. there should have been a hospital scene where carmen rides with him in the ambulance and talks to him as he’s unconscious, and leaves behind a note for him to read when he’s awake. 
i just really think there should be a “heart to heart” scene somewhere in this finale where they confront their feelings (not romantic stuff, but more about like shared trauma at the hands of vile and their broken apart friendship). this could happen at that sydney cafe. both times carmen and gray go on a “date” she leaves him sitting there alone, bewlildered. i think the finale should include a scene of them leaving the cafe together and then walking away and waving to each other. this shows development in their relationship, and that they are now closer, but it also visually shows that they still have differences as they walk away with a sort of two toned kind of environment angle that shows the different paths they have chosen. (and carmen calls him gray. and he doesn’t correct her.) it’s more of a see you later, than a goodbye though. we’re also getting rid of that part of when gray says he doesn’t want to complicate carmen’s life in the hospital scene. instead, he’s going to ask for a sheet of paper on which he will write an indiscernible letter to carmen. (the same letter will be seen in at the carmen brand outerwear hq a few scenes later for continuity, but unopened at the time, as if carmen’s not yet ready to read it. i feel like both of them need to heal a bit on their own before they’re ready to reconnect. gray knows he has hurt carmen in the past but he also knows it will hurt her if he disappears without a trace, so he’s leaving her with the choice if she wants to see him again instead of making the choice for her.)
ivy & zach & found family: carmen leaves a note behind for ivy and zach and leaves to find her mother. i feel like this did not handle team red’s found family very well. basically, the whole show is setting up this importance of family, especially found family not blood family kind of narrative. vile blood runs in carmen’s veins but she chooses to do good and find her own family. ivy and zach both choose carmen, their found family, over their racing career. i think that they should have stuck together, and when carmen goes to find her mom, they would have been totally onboard dropping her off at the airport and saying a “see you soon” or actually driving her to carlotta valdez’s house in lydia (the car). i just don’t think that splitting them up via a note is really a satisfying conclusion to the whole found family aspect. and in that time skip carmen really should have stopped by to say hi to the zach and ivy and the acme squad instead of maintaining the air of mystery. that would have definitely pushed the family feel, instead of the mysterious loner archetype. 
that time skip thing: yeah, no. this part was completely not needed and unhelpful. instead, we’re going to have carmen hug her mother at the airport, and go to visit all of her friends and found family, especially shadowsan in japan and ivy and zach in presumably boston. and the time skip will be a few onths not two effing years. i think it’s natural for them to grow apart a bit and pursue their own personal goals in life after vile’s gone, but they’ll definitely be staying in touch and reconnecting and seeing each other pretty often. and lastly of all, carmen will meet gray at the cafe in sydney.
basically, this is how i would redo the episodes for season 4. 
episode 1: the beijing bullion caper. (this episode remains as is for the most part, i would like more expansion on lady doksu and shadowsan's past since it seems like their pasts are more tied together than is revealed)
episode 2: the big bad ivy caper. (this episode remains as is for the most part.)
episode 3: the robo caper. (the scenes in which carmen first meets the robot and ivy runs it over with a truck can stay the same. where we start to deviate is with gray’s story with a revised, more complex, and in depth view of his moral struggles. instead of being unaware largely as gray flops between graham/crackle, he’s going to be a lot more aware. he’s still going to rob the house, but instead it’s because he feels hopeless that since he was previously a criminal, that’s all he’s ever going to be. gray doesn’t want to be a civilian, and feels like the only thing that he can do instead is be a part of vile. however, when he sees carmen again, he’s going to realize that if she got out of vile, then that means he has a chance to get out of it too. gray comes to a crossroads of deciding between carmen and vile, good and evil. 
episode 4: this will be the episode that concentrates on tigress, with a cleo/saira b-plot. most of this episode will take place within vile, and give more insights on the workings of the organization. 
episode 5: the himalayan rescue caper. (this episode is going to get a real makeover. with the insertion of episode 4, this creates more actual space between the last time we see gray grappling with his big choices, which makes it feel like more time has passed. so it actually feels like he had more time to think. carmen’s still going to try to rescue gray, and the part with player can stay the same. as gray is manipulated by malestrom, i think this episode should further emphasize how vile manipulates their recruits and amp up the shittiness of how malestrom is acting. i think malestrom should say something along the lines indicating that vile is gray’s only family left, this is what he was born to do, he belongs with them, and make up a bunch of bullshit lies about carmen. malestrom will portray this stuff as the “truth” and then say something like “we told you to the full truth, while carmen was hiding your past from you. didn’t you say you wanted to piece together more of your past?” (which gray did express interest in a previous episode.) since more time has passed, malestrom will play the “if carmen wanted to rescue you, she would have done so already. she abandoned you.” card. of course, it’s not easy to get into a super advanced vile facility, so instead carmen’s going to be having more struggles with getting in, which is the real reason she’s taking a while.) i want to keep the scene where he says that his name is crackle, not gray and not graham. i think this scene is particularly painful because graham/crackle is kind representative of the two sides of good and evil that gray thinks he has to choose between. gray will accuse carmen of abandoning him, both in the present but demonstrating that he’s still hurt by the time when she first left vile, and all those times when she kept secrets from him and disappearing in sydney. carmen asks him to leave with her, but instead of him being like “i’m bad, and i was always a villain,” he’s just going to be hurt and feel manipulated and be so conflicted. i feel like gray would choose vile, but not because it’s where he belongs but because he’s afraid of being brainwashed again if he doesn’t agree and because he just wants to know the truth, which vile happened to tell him first (and carmen had been hiding it from him for a while). why would it make sense for gray to willingly side with vile because he’s “throughly bad?” actions speak louder than words, and it’s clear that he’s definitely not evil enough for vile. 
episode 6: the vile history caper. (we’re just going to keep this episode as is for the most part. but like more el topo and le chevre moments.) 
episode 7: this will be the coach brunt backstory episode, piggybacking off of her hurt feelings about maelstrom’s intended betrayal. 
episode 8: the egyptian decryption caper. (this one is just going to be as is for the most part. the cleaners kidnap carmen, but we’re going insert one more painstaking scene of gray learning of vile’s plan to kidnap carmen. he’s not going to know they are planning to brainwash her. he’s going to feel conflicted and try to protest, but then realizes that now that he’s stuck with vile, if he goes against them he’s probably going to get brainwashed himself. and the brainwashing was really traumatizing, so it’s understandable he’s really afraid of it happening to him again.)
episode 9: the viennese waltz caper. (mostly just keeping this episode as is, but more worrying gray scenes. i feel like he should have had a bigger reaction to seeing carmen so unlike her personality. carmen’s lack of empathy should have pushed himself to question if vile is really a healthy place for anyone if they’re so willing to brainwash his best friend in a greater capacity. i think gray should recognize how bad the situation is but he still won’t act upon it since he’s trapped in the nostalgia of their old squad and since he’s been abandoned by carmen before, he’s too afraid that reversing the brainwashing will result in a repeat of her leaving him again. and he’s still afraid of the brainwashing.) 
episode 10 + 11 + 12. the dark red caper. (yeah, this episode is kind of just way too quickly wrapped up. i’m going to expand this into a three parter so we have more time to focus on everyone. basically, we’re going to expand this for the angst. and because this is the last season and i need more content. i feel like we can follow the general plot trajectory but with more nuance and include the improvements i wrote above about the finale. absolutely pushing the found family trope to its limits, and less vagueness since there’s not going to be another season. oh yeah, and the scene when carmen fights shadowsan, i feel like they could have amped up the emotional stuff and make it as much as about him being her dad figure as the doll because #foundfamily. and also the extra time gives more space for all of that other stuff like endings for all the characters, and more team red found family, and a bit about the non-jailed vile operatives, and the acme team, and also maybe a little infrastructure rebuilding montage, and also that carmen and gray moment.)  
basically i just want a satisfying ending for gray, and i love him, and he can’t just stare out of the hospital bedroom and agree to stay out of her life while melancholy music plays. 
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