@vcative - Tumblr Blog

Hanseok grins again, flashing straight white teeth, and shakes his head. "There wasn't enough... action." The lie comes easily, conversationally. "I don't think that will be a problem here."

Then, without missing a beat: "Have you always been in a gang?"

Taeju had been about to make a comment about there always being something to do, but he stops. It's a blunt question, one that he would have been suspicious of if Donghoon wasn't still reporting to the cops just enough to keep them satisfied. Still, he frowns. "I work for the Liber Hotel." He says, pointedly, "You should get used to that." There's a moment's pause, and he's staring at the new lawyer's face, younger than Ms Kang, clearly more excitable... But his track record couldn't be ignored. "But yes." He said, eventually. "I joined when I was sixteen. Started working more directly with Choi Mujin when I was twenty one." Another pause, "Those questions are dangerous, you should be careful."

#tsarkiller

Hanseok's eyes crinkle at the edges, genuinely, not a function of the mask.

"Yes, I suppose. It wasn't that hard. The law is a lot more complicated in the States." He shrugs and sits, sprawling out, one lanky arm over the back of the couch, legs crossed.

"I ran Babel Group for some time." He doesn't explain further—everyone knows the particular corporation. "I got tired of it eventually."

And part of the plea deal was his resignation, but he doesn't mention that. He has the money, he still has control over his brother. And he'll replace Choi Mujin when the man dies. That's what matters.

Taeju watches him as he sits, eyes straying from his face to the way he tossed his arm over the couch, the line of his thigh - and he was careful not to let his gaze linger there - as he crossed his legs. This was a man used to taking up space. But it made sense as he continued, Babel was huge, powerful and wealthy, and Taeju's eyes snap back to his face as he mentions them. "You got tired of running Babel Group?" A soft breath, not sharp enough to be a snort, is huffed through his nose. His fingers twitch on the file at his side, but he isn't quite ready to move on, not yet. "Well. Let's hope we're not as boring as them, hm?"

#tsarkiller

"She went to kill him, Taeju-ah."

Still.

"I don't know what he may have told her, but I plan to speak with her." He pauses, lifts a hand and rests it on Taeju's shoulder, squeezes. "I can handle it. You need to concern yourself with keeping the men together and your own condition."

Because he's still capable of leading them, and he needs to, and he needs to be reminded of the prior—that he's not useless.

Taeju's lips had already parted to argue when Mujin gets there first. His own mistrust of Jiwoo, his own concerns about how easily she could become their enemy were, for once, not clouding his mind - but Mujin had figured it out too - Cha Giho was more dangerous to Jiwoo's loyalty than anything else, and once again, Taeju feels guilt and disgust at his own failure to kill him. He tries to tell himself that that's what makes his heart jump at the touch to his shoulder, even if years of experience told him it wasn't. Perhaps it's just easier to be in denial. "Soon, please sir," It's the last he'll discuss it, if Mujin trusted Jiwoo, despite every piece of evidence that suggested he shouldn't, Taeju couldn't stop him. "If he told her - Just, please be careful." He stares at him, then blinks, his eyes drifting. "But I understand, I'll see to the men."

"You do too."

Moreso than he does, and Mujin knows it.

Guilt isn't a frequent emotion for a man like him, but he feels it now, crushing, suffocating. And there's no way to take his hand off the hot stove, no way to remove the source. No way out. If she's with anyone else, they'll be killed too. They can't send the sheer scale of security detail they'd need.

And she's his niece. Minhee is his blood. And alone.

"I wont... Yeobo, I won't make you raise her."

Like that's a choice, like Taeju would ever just ignore a child in the same household as himself. He doesn't know why he says it, but he feels the need to, desperately.

The alcohol didn't help, not really, still, Taeju needed to focus on something that wasn't the complete uprooting of the life he had finally made his. He couldn't even resent the situation, because there was a child, a scared child, in need of a home. And she was Mujin's family, his blood, Taeju would never have been able to turn her away. Still, he lets out an affronted scoff at the promise, and turns again to fix a stare on his partner, something between hurt and acceptance in his eyes. He doesn't speak for a heartbeat, two, then takes a deep breath. He was formulating his response, because Taeju really had never been someone to act rashly, even over something as simple as a conversation. He presses his lips together in thought, glances down at the almost empty glass still in his hand, then back at Mujin. "So I'm supposed to let you do it alone?" He asked, evenly, "Do you really think I could do that? Pretend she doesn't exist? Just because I - because we never expected her?"

dramastream

LEE HAK JOO┃A Magical Man By Park Hyun Goo for 1st Look (Feb. 2022)

#VISAGE .#yes. good.

Hanseok smiles wider, glowing at the praise, inwardly preening. He speaks English like an American and knows it. That long sent abroad and he better—if it weren't for Babel he probably would have just stayed in the States.

"Korean. I studied abroad. 《 Sanford Law. 》"

He doesn't expect the name to hold much significance to somebody who's never even left the country (presumably), but he can hope—the stranger is very handsome, appealingly slim, and he already can't help but wonder what he looks like under his jacket and tie and dress shirt. His direct attention is a beam of light he could bask in forever.

#tsarkiller #boys just like 'stop looking at him he's making you stupid'

Stanford. Taeju knows that was a good school, even if he doesn't particularly have to know the details. He nods, one eyebrow quirking upward just a little, as he watches the grin on the lawyer's face grow. It was certainly a smile he could get used to, which was exactly why Taeju looks down and away, focusing on the file of papers still in his hand. "That must have been very difficult." He says, slowly, carefully putting the file on the couch beside him, before taking a breath and looking up once more. If this man was going to be Ms. Kang's replacement, he was going to have big shoes to fill, and even if Taeju had been left out of the decision making process, he felt just a little better about it now. "And then to re-learn Korean law to practice here? At least I know you're dedicated." Taeju clears his throat, he was talking too much about things he didn't really understand, and decides to shut himself up by pressing his lips together, and tearing his gaze away once more, letting it flick over the rest of the office.

dramastream

LEE HAK JOO in Private Lives (2020) dir. Nam Gun

#he said 😗😗😗#VISAGE .

It's an adjustment, one he finds himself struggling to consistently make—more difficult in moments of high emotion, when he falls back on the same tendencies that have guided his behavior for most of his lifetime, neural circuitry incompletely rewritten even after a few years of this.

"Then help me. But don't take the kill from me. I need to organize this." Somewhere around the intense demands their lives are about to take on. Mu-jin leans into his side ever-so-slightly, assuring himself, if nothing else, of the solidity of the other's presence.

" i know. " his thumb brushes gently over the soft skin on the inside of mujin's wrist, then he releases it, leaning against him and letting the weight of him sit solid and comforting against his own. " i'm not going to take anything from you, okay? i just... you don't need to shut me out from this stuff. " taeju sighs, and tries to find something that would be more comfort, that would make any of this feel more winnable. more normal. but he's too caught up in the whirl of emotion and confusion that's wrapping around him and taking everything that he was away, the careful calculation, the unemotional logic. it was all gone. " it's... it's fine. you need to process. " he pushes up from the couch and returns to the bar, taking a long sip of the drink he had abandoned there.

He's in the middle of opening a moving box filled with fur throw pillows when the man enters his office. One of Choi Mujin's higher ranking men, though not the Director of Operations; apparently about his age, maybe a few years older.

Hanseok stops what he's doing and straightens himself to his full height, grinning a wide grin in greeting and extending a hand that rather dwarfs his guest's own.

"Doesn't everyone?" There's a twinkle in his brown eyes, a cant to his head as he assesses the visitor. He must hold some kind of significance; Hanseok just hasn't determined what it is yet.

He makes a gesture to the half-decorated suede couch, intoning in perfect English, "Please, have a seat."

#he's just a baby #VISAGE .#cw blood

He straightens up, and Taeju’s eyes follow his smiling face as he reveals that he is, in fact, easily over 6ft. His gaze finally dips, taking the proffered hand and shaking it, briefly, before letting it go, and resisting the urge to flex his fingers at his side, instead transferring the file in his hand to his right to ease the desire.

“ I suppose so. ” He responds, although there’s a slight lilt in his voice that hadn’t been there before, a miniscule softening around his eyes, amusement, although he wouldn’t like to admit it freely. He blinks at the shift to English, then glances at the couch, hesitating, before carefully perching on the edge of the seat, away from pillows that threatened to cover him in fluff. Taeju clears his throat, looking back up at Jang Hanseok, and tilting his head. He doesn’t speak in English when he asks, although he’s almost sure he should have attempted to. “ Are you American? ”

#tsarkiller #oop

rotblut

LEE HAK JOO as Jung Tae Joo in Netflix’s My Name (2021) Ep.03 — Dir. Kim Jin Min

@tsarkiller 😌

There’s a part of him, quite a big part, that’s resentful of the entire situation. No one had told him that Ms Kang was being replaced, and it felt a little like a punch in the gut to be informed when Mujin distractedly ordered him to deliver the new lawyer some papers. It’s not his place to argue, not necessarily his position to be kept informed of choices like that, but he was still number three, he was still in charge of knowing what went on within the organisation.

It’s that resentment that’s hardening his face when he gets to the office door, raps his knuckles on it, and then pushes it open. The office was quite clearly in the throes of being rearranged, Ms Kang’s careful anonymity in the process of being stripped away and replaced with what looked like some very expensive furniture, his eyes land first on an art deco lamp that’s yet to be plugged in, then several boxes of discarded decor he recognised from his many meetings with Dongcheon’s previous legal mind.

Finally, his gaze finds him, and Taeju is secretly relieved that he had developed, very early on, a truly astounding poker face. This was not what he had expected, not at all. He keeps his gaze locked on the lawyer’s face, resisting the urge to study the broad lines of his shoulders, or stare at his long legs. He doesn’t even allow himself to truly drink in the high cheekbones and curve of sculpted jaw. He’d finally dug himself out of a workplace infatuation, he wasn’t going to fall head over heels for another man the moment he laid eyes on him. Taeju flashes the briefest, tightest of polite smiles, and nods his head.

“ Jang Hanseok? ” He clarifies, as if anyone else would be in there in a suit that expensive. “ My name’s Jung Taeju, I work directly under Mr Choi. ”

#tsarkiller #hehehe for yooooouuuuuu

Even something as simple as acknowledging the nausea that's all too common with prescribed painkillers is a rather startling admission of vulnerability from a man who had remained largely silent while broken glass was being picked out of his arm.

Mu-jin makes a quiet sound of acknowledgement, not approval, and meets his eyes, serious. "It's important that you take them with food. You'll vomit them back up or develop an ulcer if you don't, Tae-ju. You're probably nauseous because you took them on an empty stomach."

He usually makes a point of turning down anything that might affect his mental state, however slight—but there have been times, almost always involving abdominal stab wounds, that he's needed more than just Narfen or Tylenol to take the edge off. He speaks from experience, or at least the experience of having been told how they're supposed to be taken, and not without genuine concern.

it’s a truly astounding show of hypocrisy, and taeju isn’t exactly sure how to process his part-scolding part-concerned intervention. he doesn’t plan on taking the painkillers for long, only until moving without them isn’t excruciating, still, being lectured on the correct way to take pills that he knew mu-jin usually avoided like the plague.

“right.” he says, slowly, “of course.” he doesn’t quite give in, not quite able to promise that he’d take the advice on board, even though he knows it’s the right thing to do. don’t drink, limit smoking, take with food twice a day. the doctor’s instructions rang in his ears, he swallows, nods. he can’t bring himself to speak much more, still in the middle of processing what was happening to him, still in pain, still angrier and more ashamed than he had been in years.

eventually, he manages something. “you need to speak to jiwoo. i don’t think she saw me, but she was there. she went to cha gi-ho, we have to run damage control.”

Mu-jin takes few sips before answering, then lowers his hand, swirling the amber liquid around in its crystal tumbler.

"I'll see to that. They've crossed me personally." And that being the case, he'd like to be the one who decides how and when and how revenge is carried out—he desires a degree of sadism. They wanted to harm him by killing Min-hee. He must be the one to deliver retribution.

taeju stares at him, blinks, stares a little more. he still doesn't quite seem to get it, that his need for personal reactions became their shared goals the moment he put that ring on his finger, that taeju didn't have to simply accept his orders the way he always had.

“ us. ” he says, quietly, firmly, “ they crossed us. ” a pause, and his hand reaches out, taking hold of mu-jin’s wrist. “ it's not just you anymore, you understand that, right? i will help you, i know you want to do this yourself, but i will help you. always. ”

Mu-jin moves his cigarette to his hand when Tae-ju leans in and kisses him back, brief, appreciative, radiating tension in its utter absence of sensuality. It'll be fine, he says, and Mu-jin wants so badly to believe him.

But none of them can know what lies ahead for the rest of their lives. All they can know is that they're less likely to die than whatever low-level footsoldier or middle manager's family they might put her with. They're more talented, better fighters, more clever. People have wanted Choi Mu-jin dead for decades now, after all.

"Please. I need another drink."

#facearmsorlegs #cw implied abuse

taeju pulls away, peels himself off the couch, frowning again, thoughts set back to ticking over options and possibilities and plans. he needs a drink himself, or two, or three. he pours one for mu-jin, needing to do something, then one for himself, but he hesitates as surges of memory flash through his mind - the sound of smashing bottles, the sting of it, the scent of liquor on stale breath - he blinks, staring at the glass in front of him. you’re a better man than he was. his frown deepens. he hands one glass to mu-jin, his own left untouched on the bar, and lights another cigarette. “ i’m sorry. ” he says, finally, “ i know you care about her, i know you cared about them. ” there’s a pause, he watches the pale smoke rise from his lips, then looks at mu-jin.

“ i will organise retaliation, ”

"We can find one more night. We'll need... food for her. Some nice things. A bed."

His eyes fall and he glances to the side, calculating, deciding how he wants to arrange this. He himself still has the distinct feeling that he's drowning, unable to come up for air. This is going to be the rest of his life, now. It's dizzying, something he doesn't even want to think about in this moment. Maybe they'll find a better foster home for her. Maybe it's temporary.

"I'll arrange for someone to go on a trip. We should visit the showroom ourselves."

Vis-a-vis toddler beds. He doesn't intend to let someone else select anything as important as home decor. "Maybe get her a stuffed animal. Something to put in bed with her." It could be a small comfort.

“ she likes sea creatures. ” he murmurs, thinking of the pictures she had given him when last they’d seen her. “ fish… dolphins…things like that. ” he pulls away from mu-jin a little, lifts his right hand to once more run through his hair. stress starting to fray at his edges. toddler supplies. something he had never considered having to source - him - head of operations for dongcheon, thinking about buying blankets and juice boxes. it’s surreal, ridiculous… terrifying. he wants to tell him they’ll be okay, that it won’t be so bad, and then they’ll find her somewhere permanent and things will return to normal. he wants to believe it. but his mind is too busy calculating odds; which business partners would use this as leverage, how they would have to alter their habits and their schedules… worst case scenarios flicking through his head like a rolodex. it was just how taeju thought, starting from the worst possible scene and working backwards, until the clearest path lay ahead. he stays like that for a while, visions of blood and betrayal behind his eyes as he frowns, unseeing, at a spot on the table. “ it’ll be fine. ” he says, after a thoughtful silence, and his eyes drift back to mu-jin. he wants to believe it, has just worked out all the ways it wouldn’t be, but that just made him more determined. “ we’ll be fine. ” he pulls forwards again, fingers carefully tracing mu-jin’s jaw before he leans in, presses a gentle kiss to his lips. it’s self indulgent, his own small distraction. “ i’ll make sure of it. ”

Decided isn't quite the word Mu-jin would choose—though the ultimate call does come down to him, he doesn't feel like he has much agency in the matter. It's still more than Tae-ju probably feels, however.

"I wouldn't put you in this situation if there were any other way." But at least he sounds like he's shifted to considering it, in the very, very brief period since the idea was introduced, and as much relief as a man as stressed as he is can feel comes over him.

"She'll think I'm the CEO of Hotel Liber. And you're the Chief Operations Officer."