at this point, it’s got to be a fucking joke. he’s not one to believe in god, the option taken away from him when his catholic, do-gooder parents—fervent as they were—were murdered in cold blood for their vigilante shit. but something tells him that somewhere up there, there’s a sadistic author whose favourite pastime is fucking with him.
like the way he does the world a fucking favour by shoving that loud mouth with the shit-eating grin in the locker room, and it robs him of his entire fucking youth and career. or the way he stands up for his grandma, gives those bakery owners a taste of their own medicine by bringing their shitty shop and ass-filled cupcakes down to the fucking ground, and he’s the one that gets the jail time.
or now. like everything, jaehyun had been working for it. everything has had to be a fucking climb, and this was going to be his big break. gangcheori’s captain had promised him the spot if he proved himself in the winter finals, and the worst part was that he’d had it in the bag. the prompt was strength, for fuck’s sake— this shit was delivered to him. until pulgasari’s fucking captain had to join in the ring, use his voodoo shit to take away his powers. to make him human.
what kind of fucking anomaly is that?
these fuckers weren’t even playing the game. now the stadium’s lit up with pulgasari’s house colours, and these cheaters are gloating. raising their hands and waving at their fans like they did something. jaehyun sneers, slams the ground in his rage, and the ground barely flinches like it should. and there’s this way that his fury takes over, makes him see red— it begins with a spring, as jaehyun jumps to his feet and charges at ryder. “you fucker—!” then the roar, as he jumps to tackle the man to the ground.
ft. park jaehyun & @detagen's ryder han, circa 2022