#part of the story is that she had a very odd and very toxic and manipulative situationship with the avatar of Hoar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hanibalistic · 6 months

Text

WHO YOU ARE, WHO I AM | LEE MINHO.

genre | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn / arranged marriage au / strangers to lovers / 4th wall break

synopsis | when you wake up to a good-looking man who claims to be your husband, there isn’t much to do aside from assuming you got stuck in a drama.

word count | 15.1k+

warning | mentions of cheating, blood / occasions of toxic marriage / one instance of violence / not edited since the first time i posted this story

note | the ending is essentially the same. i changed very little of the original story, only nearing the end. / forcing me to put fic into parts is heinous.

parts | one, two, three

You have had a fair share of envious moments before.

Whenever you see adorable and loving couples wandering across the streets, sipping a hot drink while letting their shared scarf do the deed of warming them up on a cold winter night, you want to gouge your eyes out to save yourself from the public display of chaste affection. But, at the same time, you cannot stop staring. If you stare long enough, you might just be able to replace the couple with you and your perfect, imaginary boyfriend.

You have prayed for a significant other at one time or another. Who hasn’t? Discreetly whispering towards the birthday candles, the new year’s fireworks, an abrupt desperation appearing in the middle of the night when you were jolted awake. Yet, for years, the odds were not in your favor until at this exact moment when you opened your eyes after long hours of sleep you could not remember yourself ever heading to.

The sunlight was seeping through the white mesh curtains that mirrored the fabric of an expensive wedding gown, the kind that makes you gasp in awe at the bride when she wears it down the aisle. It did nothing to help with the glaring morning gaze but you could understand why people would buy it as a decoration. Those useless and overpriced curtains, no matter what, do give the room a whimsical atmosphere. If only you ever got one.

The second you laid eyes on those mesh curtains, your eyes snapped open and the grogginess you felt from just waking up vanished immediately. Those were not yours. No, definitely not. You cared too much about sleep to allow yourself an aggressive wake by the sun. Besides, you would not be caught dead spending hundreds of dollars buying a home decoration that serves no purpose other than looking pretty.

You clenched the bedsheet and gasped in both shock and awe. Talk about the softest bed sheets you have ever felt! The blanket covering your, thankfully, fully-clothed body felt like silk yet the material was thick enough to make you feel warm like you were taking a steamy hot shower and make you sleep like you were in a coma. But the same thing applied: these bedsheets never belonged to you and possibly never will.

“Oh god,” you breathed out in a whisper as your eyes rolled around the unfamiliar room.

You were stalling at this point. The heavy presence laying next to you was far too obvious for you to ignore but you were also too afraid to look. Who could it be? You hadn’t the faintest idea. You couldn’t even recall exactly what happened last night! Did you make any plans? That would be extremely unlikely. You’ve got no friends who would invite you anywhere and you’ve got no motivation to go anywhere but slack around in your apartment!

Nothing else could explain the current situation you’ve gotten yourself in, though. Nothing but you getting very drunk and possibly handing all that was sacred about you to a complete stranger.

Slowly turning your head to the side, you let your squinted eyes fall open slowly for the big reveal. The man sleeping next to you had his body turned towards your side. His lashes fluttered even when he was unmoving and his brown locks fell just above his closed eyes in the most boyish, attractive way. The bridge of his nose arched perfectly to welcome to button tip. His lips have a natural pout to them and they somehow appeared to be glittery under the sunlight.

Oh yeah, you must be drunk last night. You were sure this man was too because no way in hell would he ever want to have anything to do with you.

You stared at the man for a brief moment. Your internal thoughts went through all five stages of confusion, with all first four of them being pure confusion and the last stage being acceptance. You felt like you opened your long hidden psychic third eye after the stage of acceptance and you have never felt smarter than before. Acceptance should have been your first instinct. What else should you have done when you wake up to find yourself sleeping next to one of, if not the most, handsome man you’ve seen on Earth?

After giving your mind a nod of approval for creating such a beautiful man, you turned on your back and closed your eyes. You went back to sleep because, obviously, this was just a lucid dream.

I would let you think you were smart for a moment, [Name], but I do believe it is about time we progress with the story and learn about who the man of your dreams was, so–I’m not sorry but up we go!

You jolted awake as if you just had a nightmare, which you did not. Your body just wanted to keep you awake, it seemed. It was as if it knew you were not in the right place, or you were in a place you have never been to before, and it wanted you to stand up and discover an escape route. Sighing in defeat, your eyes blinked at the unfamiliar room you had gotten a glimpse of before you concluded that you were in a dream.

Turning your head to the side, your eyes welcomed the sight of the man you had previously admired. The only difference this time was that he was very much awake and was blatantly staring at you with a look of utter distaste that felt more common than ever. He was not the first person to give you that unamused frown and wickedly condescending gaze but it really did add more impact to it when it came from someone as good-looking as him.

“What the fuck?” you muttered out with a hasty, croaked voice.

Minho tilted his head to the side at your obnoxious reaction, then he spoke, “Why are you on my bed?”

You furrowed your brows at him, both at how nice his voice was early in the morning and in confusion to the fact that he asked you the million-dollar question. Breathing out a short laugh, you looked away from him. “I don’t know, man. I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything aside from the rules we established the first day of our marriage,” he wasted no time to say, his tone getting duller and duller as if he was really getting mad over you being on his king-sized bed.

“Oh, you’re crazy.” You rolled your eyes as you reached your hand up to ruffle your hair.

Upon the subject at hand, it was slowly coming to light the faint weight that has been resting on your fourth finger and was completely neglected by your confused state of mind. Your ruffling slowly came to a stop and, stalling time once again, you turned over to look at the stranger who was still staring at you with distaste. Something about his lack of expression, and the weight on your hand, told you he was being honest.

“Are we married?” you asked. “The thing I am feeling on my finger is not a ring, is it?”

Minho’s gaze shifted for a moment. You seemed genuinely confused, out of your usual element if he could say so himself. Truth be told, he never really paid that much attention to you. He did once in a blue moon, never enough for your presence to stick in his head. But he could definitely tell when you weren’t being yourself, when you didn’t feel like you.

“Don’t joke around with me, [Name],” he said when he regained his usual demeanor. The theory he thought about was discarded with ease. There was absolutely no way something so fiction-like could ever happen to him. The arranged marriage aside, of course.

“You know my name?” you questioned slowly, finally sitting up now that this situation was becoming creepier. Your legs inched toward the edge of the bed to leave the soft blanket and were ready to bolt out of the room for good. “I don’t even know yours.”

“Yes, you do,” Minho said, sitting up as well. “Stop messing around. Just admit that you broke the rules and slept on my bed. This amnesia act is a waste of my time.”

You squinted your eyes at him, jaw hung open in utter disbelief. His attitude fueled nothing more than the distaste for him that was currently brewing inside you. “Dude, I don’t fucking know who you are? Am I supposed to just guess your name? Something generic like Lee Minho?”

He showed you a deadpan expression immediately after your voice fell. Judging by the way his shoulders dropped in annoyance, you knew for a fact that you had guessed his name correctly. That was a generic name as you mentioned. You cursed under your breath then, recognizing how your luck was completely working against your favor.

“I–I gotta go. I have to leave!”

You let the anxiety in your body do the job as you stumbled backward and out of the bedroom. You were immediately greeted with a long and bright hallway that looked way too familiar for you to not be able to navigate around it.

You have never been here before, but you just knew. It looked like a house straight out of a drama. With the opened curtains, the velvet carpet, the random Chinese vases located in the awkward middle, and the giant wooden patterned doors—oh god, were you on secret camera right now? Did you sign some ten-page long contract you never took the time to read?

Moving to a random direction of the hallway, you grabbed the handle of the next door you could find and opened it to head inside. The lights automatically turned on when it noticed a presence, and you found yourself in what appeared to be a walk-in closet.

It was a black and white. A very minimalistic color scheme. The orange lights made you wince because it didn’t match the atmosphere. Clothing racks lined up against the wall and eventually met each other at the end, where a tall mirror stood waiting to be used. There was a door that you guessed might lead to a bathroom and a few shelves of expensive perfume and shoes. Sitting oddly in the middle was a small round desk and a cushioned chair.

You grimaced at how obnoxious and luxurious the closet was. It was everything you could have dreamed of having. Maybe even a little beyond that. There was such a thing as too big of a closet, and the idea of actually spending that much money made your skin all itchy and irritated.

Oh, [Name]–what are you doing? You have got no time to give criticism to a rich person’s closet. You have got to figure out what the fresh hell was happening!

“This makes no sense.” You clicked your feet against the carpet floor before you started to pace around.

Marriage? Minho knowing your name yet you needed to guess his? This foreign rich land you stumbled upon? There were only four solutions you could think of after having rethink every single detail.

Exhibit A: This is still a dream.

You slapped yourself after much preparation. The pain stung you like your bare hand to a burning stove. This is not a dream, it has never been.

It was funny to watch you slap yourself though, I have to say.

Exhibit B: This is a television prank.

Your drama-loving, variety-show-watching freak would definitely be able to tell. Each pranking show has its distinct element to the way they execute their plan—from the setting to their actors to their fake scenarios. This was far too obvious and far too risky for any pranking show you have watched. You could cross the option off the chalkboard!

Exhibit C: Minho is madly in love with you and has kidnapped you to be his spouse!

Interesting and unbelievable. Why would someone like him need to kidnap you to keep you with him? With that face and this kind of money? You would have caved within seconds judging by how shallow your heart could be sometimes. Besides, why would someone like you intrigue him? No way. This option is off the chalkboard too.

Well, what remained was your last resort, I suppose. May I proudly present you—Exhibit D!

The door to the closet swung open, abruptly disrupting the deep-voiced narrator in your head and pulling you back into the real world… as real as it could get, at least. Snapping your head to the side, you were greeted with an unamused Minho by the doorway and your frown deepened at his unwelcoming presence.

“Why are you in my closet?” he asked, approaching you slowly.

You blinked at him and looked around. The clothes on the racks finally made themselves clearer to you, and for the first time you could see that those were men clothes. Or, at least, pieces you would never wear outside. This wasn’t your closet, but you’ve had enough to him to admit your wrongs, so yous scoffed instead.

“Is everything yours?”

Minho raised a brow. “Besides you, yeah. I would say so.”

You closed your eyes to concentrate on holding down a fiery breath threatening to escape. Whether it was Minho or yourself it planned to head toward, exploding in the middle of a stranger’s house in an unfamiliar situation was the last thing that could help you. As much as you hated how Minho seemed to make perfect sense every time, you remained (as) calm (as you could be).

“Whatever.” Classic comeback.

“Whatever? No, this isn’t whatever,” Minho said, grabbing a fistful of a discarded topic and throwing it at your face. “Do we need to have another talk about boundaries?”

You furrowed your brows, but you weren’t confused this time. You were annoyed and in disbelief. His condescending tone scratched the part of your brain you learned to turn off during work hours, but since he wasn’t in charge of your finances, unlike your boss, you’ve had it up to the tip of your head with him. On second thought, you were better than this asshole! You would never agree to marry someone with this kind of shitty attitude! Exhibit C is back in the race!

“Did you kidnap me?” you asked with no reluctance.

Minho tilted his head at you, bewildered but not enough to lose his stoic expression. “Kidnap you? Why would I do that? You are the one head over heels for me ever since we got married.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you snorted loudly as you turned away from him. Then you pointed a finger at him, wanting to spat something with menace but you were stopped immediately by the diamond ring on your fourth finger.

Oh, that—that is heavy. That looked heavy and it felt heavy. How did you not feel it? You wanted to take it off and keep it in a glass box on display the second you laid your eyes on it.

“Did you force this on me?” you asked, pointing at the ring and discreetly feeling the rough diamond on your skin. Your eyes shifted slightly to glance at it and they widened on instinct. You couldn’t even begin to guess how expensive that piece of rock is and having it weighing down on your fourth finger felt like too much responsibility. “You freak! How much did you pay for this?”

Minho shook his head, continuously bewildered at the sudden questions fired towards him. “About five hundred–“

You held up your palm to shut him up. That number was all you needed to know. Judging from the way he was still trying to speak, the ring was definitely not just a mere five hundred dollars. And be it the word ‘thousand’ or ‘million,’ whichever comes out of his mouth would still make you fake barf and your heart pour blood. The only thing you could feel remotely glad about was the fact that he bought the ring.

“Also, for your information, I did not force the ring on you. We both agreed to get married. Besides, I didn’t need to force you to do anything,“ he replied. "Our parents did.”

"Our parents? What do you know about my parents–my mom and dad will never force me to marry anybody even though that is all they ever urge me to do these days!”

“[Name].”

For once, Minho’s deep and quiet voice was laced with something other than spite. His eyes were solemnly melancholic. They dropped like shadows as he gazed at you carefully. Without moving an inch, he spoke, “[Name], your parents have been dead for a year.”

Dead parents. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is a trope you could work with. At least it has the capability of bringing your theory somewhere. Maybe on a path to insanity but still a route nonetheless.

Let me humbly do a recap of everything that went down.

A big house. A rich man, a rich and handsome man, a rich and handsome man who hates you, a rich and handsome man who hates you because you two were stuck in an arranged marriage. Dead parents.

"Oh my god,” you gasped under your breath as the reality dawned upon your once clueless mind. Everything was so clear after you figured out all the key elements, it almost felt like you could calculate the physics of the parallel universe and the meaning of existence!

You are stuck in a drama!

After some wild stumbling about in Minho’s big mansion, all thanks to your pride preventing you from asking him the exact location of ‘your’ closet, you finally found the fashion wonderland you were looking for—your walk-in closet, that was somehow separated from Minho’s even though you two were supposedly holding hands in marriage. This degree of hated in an arranged marriage wasn’t uncommon, but you thought it hard to deal with when you’re stuck in the position.

Bursting through the door, the lights automatically turning on in here as well, you gave yourself no time to admire the inner structure of how the closet was built and decorated. Instead, you immediately went for the first mirror you could find, which was just hanging on the wall above a little table.

You heaved a short sigh when you recognized your own face and body in the mirror. That fact alone reinforced the drama theory you’ve got spinning in your head. If you were to not look like yourself, there would be a possibility that your soul got switched with someone else’s and you were actually still stuck in real life. However, the person you were looking at in the mirror was you in the flesh, therefore this was not a soul-switching experience but a teleportation experience.

You got stuck in a drama. Yeah, that was it. Either that, or you got transported to yourself in an alternative universe. To you, they meant the same thing. Anything that wasn’t your reality would be fake. That was your answer. But how did you get transported here? Flipping through the television department of your memory, not once could you remember yourself ever going through anything that happened to protagonists who were teleported somewhere else.

You weren’t almost hit by a car, you didn’t almost freeze to death, you didn’t almost drown in the ocean—oh there, wait a minute. There was a pattern there. The key to the sequence is not a near-death experience. The key to all of these is only the 'near’ of the experience, not necessarily the 'death’ part of it!

“But that makes no sense?” you mumbled to yourself as you tried your best to remember what you were doing before you woke up next to Minho, but it was to no avail. All you could remember was falling asleep on a phone call with your friend. “Everyone almost does something all the time. How do you determine which one is significant?”

Marching over to pick up a random pair of shoes from the shelf, you raised it high in mid-air and let go of it. Before it could hit the ground, you immediately caught the shoes again, then you looked around the place with the most paranoid eyes. “Oh, oops! I almost dropped these shoes!”

Nothing happened. The only thing that welcomed you were the static in the air and the realization of your stupidity.

Alright. Perhaps the ‘death’ part of it was, in fact, necessary after all.

Putting the shoes back, you puffed out some air to replace a frown that would inevitably help you gain more wrinkles than needed. Walking back to the table, you stared at yourself in the mirror and gave yourself a few pinches here and there. Both to make sure you were not dreaming and to give yourself some encouragement that things would turn out fine somehow.

One thing you did come to realize after the momentary idiotic trance you got stuck in was that while you were stuck in a drama (at least a universe that seemed to act on its principles), you were also taking the place of someone else’s life. Your position belonged to a character once. You just came in and took their place. You still looked like you, for some reason, but this position was not yours to freely maneuver.

Besides, whoever ‘you’ used to be must have been transported to your body in your world. Unfortunately, judging from the kind of life they’ve led thus far, you should pray against that case because your life wasn’t the kind of suffering they could handle. You didn’t think so. Working a full time job, not being married, and being dirt poor? Your life would suck for them. You may have to be ready to find a new job when you figure out how to go home.

Nonetheless, you’ve got to be careful. You have no idea when you would magically disappear from this place, and you would hate to have someone pick up your pieces.

“Just live for now and don’t mess up,” you told yourself lazily, grimacing at the fact that you might have to comply with what Minho says from now on because, according to him, you were in love with him.

Now that the troubles were all set aside. It was finally time for you to bask in the big, extravagant closet of your dreams. You turned around and beamed at the clothes that lined up the walls and at the shoes all carefully placed in a row. This! This was much better than Minho’s closet, you knew that for certain!

Making your way to the other side of the room, you skipped with your bare feet happily. All that excitement only to have you trip on your own feet and fall forward. Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth hanging open to let out a small scream.

Your head banged against the wooden column that held up the clothing rack, and immediately you blacked out.

Opening your eyes was quite the scare for you.

Oh, how horrible it would be if you found yourself waking up next to a handsome man who happened to be your husband and also does not love you whatsoever but is extremely rich and is putting a roof over your head? You sniffed in distaste. You weren’t one for gold diggers. Money was never a big problem for you. You were poor, but you’ve got enough to get by. Loneliness and the lack of intimacy were the main issues! Not that you would outrightly acknowledge it, though.

The room you woke up in was different than the previous one. It was just as big as Minho’s bedroom but it had a more natural tone than Minho’s royal-like room. Holding your palm to your forehead, you winced in shock at the bumpy surface on your skin. You did remember tripping and falling head-on against the clothing rack but you did not think it would create that much damage. All you thought would happen was a small red spot and eternal suffering of you acknowledging how stupidly clumsy you were.

Aside from that, at least you gained a little information about yourself: you trip easy, you faint easy, and you scar easy. It was unlike your regular body; your threshold for pain and fatigue was high due to constant working, and you definitely did not use to trip on solid ground. Being teleported here has turned your body into a typical romantic drama protagonist.

Your feet touched the cold tiles. Surprisingly, there were no fluffy slippers for your them to slip into. You got out of your bed and immediately went out to the hall in hopes to search for someone. There has got to be a soul working in this mansion. You could not have possibly smeared vaseline on your forehead and tucked yourself back into bed in a state of unconsciousness.

The atmosphere was eerie as you made your way down the hall. The sound of your bare feet tapping against the carpet could be heard in this quiet house and for once, you thought perhaps having such a giant home was not the best idea in the world. It has got you missing your small and cozy apartment where most things were within reach and sight. If only it didn’t take half of your pay check every month.

“Oh, I see you’ve woken up!”

You flinched at the sudden voice, albeit it being very gentle and harmless. Turning around, you found a middle-aged lady dressed in casual clothes holding a basket of crumpled up laundry. Not wanting to act too suspicious and out of character, you gave her a small smile as you accessed her figure as quickly as you could.

She was not wearing one of those maid costumes, which was not surprising. You wouldn’t say you want to see an old lady in one either despite hoping to see an actual maid in a rich household just to experience that drama dream you’ve got stored in your head. But looking at the laundry basket she was holding, you were pretty sure she was only here to do the chores and she would leave once the day gets darker.

“Um… yeah, I have,” you replied to her as your hand reached out to softly touch the nasty bump on your forehead. You grimaced a little at the texture before you looked back at the lady, “Uh, is–is dinner ready?”

She nodded her head with a faint laugh, happy to know you haven’t lost your perception of time yet. Nudging her head to the end of the hallway, she said, “Mr.Lee went and bought home some takeout from your favorite restaurant after he got off work. They are in the kitchen if you are feeling hungry.”

You arched your brows pleasantly. Alright, that was very nice of him. Considering you weren’t holding any grudges against him yet, he did that our of sheer kindness, or responsibility—it didn’t matter. Free food is free food. You would thank him if you see him later but honestly, that would hugely depend on your mood and how he acts when you do see each other again, which you knew you would.

“Okay. Thank you very much.” You nodded at her with gratitude, mirroring her hushed voice. “Ah, and thanks for fixing my head and tucking me to bed.”

“Of course, it is what I’m supposed to do.” She smiled. Your surprised look—from mistaking that she was the person who brought you back to bed—did not go unnoticed. Immediately, she added,“But Mr.Lee was the one who brought you back to your bed. That was not me.”

You blinked at her in bewilderment. The inside of your chest fluttered just a little at the idea of someone hoisting you up bridal-style and putting you back to bed. It didn’t cross your mind once that he might have laid you on his back instead. You were dramatizing the experience. You had to because Minho did not seem like the type to fit under the romantic category. His face? Definitely. His personality? No.

Nonetheless, you were flustered at the idea of it. It was the first time someone has held you up like that since your father years and years ago.

“O–oh, that is–“ you cleared your throat and your mind, then you looked up at the lady with a smile–“um, is he home? I want to go thank him.”

“He is,” she nodded, “I believe he is just in his office room.”

Great. Location unlocked! All that remained would be how to get there.

“Thank you. I will just get going now.” You bowed slightly before you quickly spun on your heels and left the hallway.

After some more trials of opening doors that lead you to empty bathrooms and empty guest bedrooms, you were starting to hate this house more and more. At this point, you wouldn’t get a big home even if you’ve got all the money in the world. The hatred and annoyance have rooted too deep in your brain, you have automatically crossed your castle dreams off the bucket list.

Your feet tapped quickly against the carpet so your legs could take you down the hall and to the next doors quickly. Letting out a frustrated groan, you grabbed the door handle as soon as a new door was in reach and you twisted it open to reveal a rather embarrassing sight of Minho and a girl being all over him near the edge of his desk.

You couldn’t decipher whether this position was reciprocal. It was amazing that your brain could even function logically enough to think that perhaps Minho didn’t want to be stuck in this position considering how awkward the view was. You forgot for a moment you were looking at this from a spouse’s perspective, and panic surfaced when you dodged the girl’s annoyed eyes and instead looked straight into Minho’s shocked ones.

Your jaw dropped open slowly at the sight in front of you as if you were just looking at it for the first time. You were finally processing it, though. Then, for some stupid reason, you reached your hands up to your face and quickly smacked the heel of your palm to your eyes. Your back arched at the impact and you started wailing in (fake, but debatably genuine) pain. You disliked couples, also you thought it was funny to act out of the role you were destined to be: a wailing woman.

The real dilemma here was if you wanted to confront them or act as if you haven’t seen anything.

Unfortunately, confronting them may lose your status as Minho’s spouse, thus the roof over your head and the trust funds. It would be immensely entertaining to confront them, but you needed to keep everything else in mind. For now, pretending you didn’t see anything was the best response.

Minho and the girl were startled out their minds at your peculiar response. Minho’s instincts told him to stand up straight and approach you to check and see if the fall this morning was more serious than he assumed it to be. But before he could listen to his heart, your incoherent wailing started to turn into audible words.

“Oh! My eyes! I can’t feel my eyes! I can’t see!” You let your hands go free around the air and kept your eyes shut tightly to act blind. Your spun your torso about, almost dancing to a rhythm of a trot song, and your arms flailed closely beside your figure to avoid hitting the door frame. “I have not seen a thing! I’ve gone blind!”

His lips quirked up in amusement, but the amusement was quickly diminished when the girl who just recently tried to lure him into a deceptive make-out session spoke.

“What the hell is your problem?” she asked out loud, possibly glaring at you but you could not see (because your eyes were closed, not because you’ve actually gone blind. You’ve got me fooled!), nor do you care.

However, you did almost let a gasp past your lips because good lord, the audacity of this woman! Did she see no problem in seducing a married man? An unhappily married man but a married, ring on the finger, contract signed, vowed spoken man nonetheless! Does ‘through sickness and health’ mean nothing to people anymore?

As much as you didn’t care for Minho, the concept of adultery is and will always be preposterous! You were thinking in big words just so you could emphasis how much you hate the act of cheating!

“It seems like somebody is being unfaithful and I am trying to make sure I don’t make a memory of it,” you replied calmly with your eyes still shut and your body turned at the wrong person. It was hard to take you seriously. When there was only silence, you muttered to yourself, “God, I hope amnesia happens when I leave this world. This is not a good sight to remember for them.”

Minho furrowed his eyebrows at you after your answer. Surely, you wouldn’t accuse him of cheating? You barged in at the wrong time. You didn’t even try to understand the situation from his perspective. His arms were crossed in front of his chest to create a more dominant stance before he commanded, “[Name], open your eyes.”

“Did you not hear what I said–ah, you probably didn’t because I muttered.” You sniffed the tense air before you shook your head. “No. I am trying not to make a memory of this.”

“[Name], I said open your eyes,” Minho repeated louder once again. He marched over to you and, impulsively, gripped a stronghold of your chin to tilt your head up. “I said look at me!”

You snapped your eyes open at the forceful tug, a strangled noise bursting from your throat at his violent action. You weren’t scared, no, not at all. You were angry, annoyed, and actively seeking retaliation you would’t have engaged in back where you came from.

Your hand reached out to grip his wrist and you squeezed tightly until Minho showed a sign of discomfort on his face. A smile almost crept their way to your face; all those years carrying bags of groceries with your mom while walking home was worth it! But the matter at hand called for a more serious demeanour. This experience concerned not just yourself but whoever was once in your place. The aftermath of your choices would change their life, and your call was to stand up for them.

Your brows furrowed and your eyes flashed with cruel disbelief as you glared at him. Shoving his hand away from you, you croaked out, “How dare you treat them like this?”

Minho looked confused. Them? What did you mean? Who were you referring to? Before he could open his mouth to ask, you took a step back and glared pointedly at him. There were droplets in your eyes that you were unable to hide completely. Nobody has ever treated you this roughly before, but you weren’t upset. Those were frustrated waters. The more visible part of your hooded eyes wore a deep-seated contempt that Minho has never seen from you before.

You felt like a completely different person to him.

“I can’t believe they love you,” you sneered. “How could anyone ever love you like this?”

Like a bullet, your words pierced through him, hitting bull's eye on his board of insecurities. He was rendered speechless at your words. All he could do was cast his gaze down at the floor and think about them. You, taking the silence as an opportunity, glanced back at the girl who stood quietly behind Minho. She didn’t quite return your gaze, possibly shocked to hear such harsh and defensive words coming out of your mouth. Not once did you consider how she was feeling. She was practically invisible until her appeared in your sight.

You rolled your eyes before you turned and left the room. All thoughts to thank him earlier vanishing in thin air, and it would take quite the journey before they come back to you.

You stomped to the living room and into the kitchen. The subtle change from the carpet floor to the marble tiles was magnified under the pressure of your feet. The cold didn’t even bother you that much, your mind was too occupied with the previous event involving Minho.

As soon as you walked into the open kitchen, you found a milk-colored paper bag sitting on the edge of the countertop with a name printed in the middle in a pretty, cursive font. Your eyes softened for a moment when you acknowledged that the bag contained the food Minho went and got for you, but the softness lasted only a millisecond as your mind repeatedly recalled the incident seconds ago.

Anger filled your eyes like an ocean. Who was he to do that? If he had let you go like a normal person and not pull that violent stunt on you, you would have never been this riled up. You didn’t care that he was cheating; it wasn’t like he was cheating on you per se. You cared that he thought it was okay to grab you (or ‘you’)!

Turning away from the takeout bag, you approached the refrigerator and opened it to search for some eggs and meat so you could cook a meal like you used to do when you finally run out of instant noodle packs to boil. After taking out the necessary ingredients, you searched through the cabinets to find a pan to use but it was to no avail. Everything was either bowls and plates or more salt and sugar.

A frustrated huff escaped your lips, your cheeks puffing out and you gritted your teeth before you slammed the cabinet door shut. You stood up from the ground with a curse under your lips and your hands on your hips. With light sweat on your forehead and your unsightly floral pajama set, [Name], you do look like someone’s grandparent at the moment.

Footsteps made you avert your attention from the hiding pan to where the sound came from. Stumbling into your sight was the girl you just saw, with Minho following shortly behind her. You met eyes with him first, and despite wanting to peel your eyes away from him, you held onto his gaze challengingly to make a point. Minho felt his hands tremble as his mind suffered a faint disassociation.

He was right. You were not the person he knew anymore.

Turning around to look at the eggs and frozen meat you set on the kitchen counter, you stared at it as if contemplating your next move, then you turned back to the two with a shrug. Your tone was beyond slurred and impolite. “Where is the pan?”

“What do you need it for?” Minho asked.

“To knock you out,” you deadpanned, then you visibly scoffed with an eye-roll. “For cooking. Have you never seen people use one before?”

“I bought the food already.”

“I know.” You made a beckoning gesture with your hand. “Tell me where the pan is.”

“You don’t even know how to cook,” the girl interjected, her brows furrowing slightly at your vindictive tone as she assumed your poor attitude here was to compensate for what you just saw of her and Minho.

“Are we friends? I don’t know you,” you said factually.

She laughed in disbelief. “You do know me. I’m Yuna.”

“Nice to meet you, Yuna, but I’m afraid I won't try to remember,” you said, eyes scratching fire on her skin. She looked taken back by your gaze, which may be the reason why she didn’t retaliate. Glaring back at Minho, you waited for him to answer your question about the location of a cooking pan. You didn’t know if he simply refused to tell you anything or if he didn’t know either, but you snapped either way as your patience reached its limit.

Widening your eyes at him in disbelief, you exclaimed, “Oh my god, Minho! Just tell me where the fucking pan is so I can make myself dinner!”

Now it was Minho who looked startled. You narrowed your eyes at him then, trying to piece together exactly who you used to be before this soul-switching event happened. Judging from how shocked both him and Yuna were, you must have been one mellow and kind person. It was not to say you didn’t possess those traits either. You definitely did, but Minho has done nothing to deserve your goodness, and you would not be the bigger person and give it to him.

“I asked a simple question.” You rolled your eyes and waved your hands in front o your chest in a dismissive manner as you moved from your spot to head out of the kitchen. “I’ll ask someone else.”

Minho watched as you stomped out of the kitchen. When you brushed past him, he wanted to reach his hand out to stop you from leaving. For what reason? He could not conclude. He wanted to answer your question, which was that he could only guess where all the cooking utensils were because he’s not once tried to make dinner. He wanted to ask you to clarify a few things, starting from what happened to you. He wanted to urge you to calm down. Mostly, he wanted to apologize for what he did to you.

But his muscles were rigid and his heart hollowed when he turned to your leaving figure. Your words echoed in his head over and over again. How could anyone ever love you like this? How could anyone ever love you like this, Minho? How?

The sound of a door slamming could be heard all the way from where he stood. Minho licked his lower lip slowly in realization, a realization that relied on a mere assumption. It could explain your sudden change of attitude, at least. The thought jolted his mind awake and he turned around, preparing to leave the kitchen and go after you for answers.

Have you stopped loving him? Or, judging by those words, have you ever loved him?

“Hey, where’re you going?” Yuna asked when he noticed his urgency.

“I’m going to talk to them,” he replied.

“But they’re mad at you–“

“I know.”

“So don’t go. They wouldn’t want to talk to you anyway,” she said with a half-smile.

“I can’t, Yuna. I need to talk to them about something important.” Minho carefully moved his hand out of her grasp. “Something is off about them, I can feel it..”

“You can wait a while, Minho.” She tugged onto his arm again. “You should let them cool off. How about we sit down and eat?”

Minho paused to consider the suggestion. You were angry. He could tell by the stomping and the glaring and the cursing. Since he has never seen you like this, there was no guessing to what intensity your anger could rise. You might start throwing sharp objects at him for all he knew. But somehow, that only made him want to ‘resolve’ the situation even more. It felt as if there was a clock hanging above your head, counting down each second of him stalling and not talking about what happened, and when the clock ticks zero it would be too late for him.

(It should have been too late for him ages ago, but ‘you’ had been patient, far too patient with him.)

“I can’t. I have to go talk to them now,” he replied and once again moved his arm away. This time, he quickly took a few steps away so he could be out of reach. He gave Yuna a short smile. “Go home, okay? Text me when you get back safely.”

Yuna watched with slumped shoulders as Minho quickly made his way up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway. Her lips pursed, confused and disappointed.

She has liked Minho for as long as she could remember now. As horrible as the arranged marriage was to her, Minho has never expressed a fondness for you and that he has never shown any form of attachment towards this arrangement. If anything, he has been nothing but spoiled and distant when it came to you. It was only because of that. That was the only reason why she reacted well with the marriage and that her love-struck mind deemed it moral to try and steal Minho away from you.

But why? Why was Minho so caught up now?

Yuna ran a hand through her long, silky hair. She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes settling on the takeout dinner. She gulped nervously. Before she left the house, she grabbed the food with her.

You were too caught up in your thoughts to hear the doors to the closet opening. Your head was lowered to stare at the ground visible between your crossed legs. One of your hand was at the mercy of your nail-biting habit while the other one was clenched into a tight fist and resting on top of your ankle. You were hunched in the middle of your enormous closet, mumbling out your thoughts.

Your initial goal was to live this life of yours as invisibly as you could. You were not going to destroy this person’s life. You were not going to destroy their relationships and definitely not their marriage. For as long as you would be here, you would try to go along pretending like you were somebody else. When you finally leave this place, you would hand this life back to the original ‘you’ as if they never left!

Your goal was facing a bit of an intrusion—Lee Minho.

Without any attachment and responsibilities, it was easy to stand up to him. Doing it for the sake of a weaker person was even easier to do. Who was he to be so rough with his spouse? What was his problem? Not to mention that incident was not the only bad example you could raise, there were so many more things about him that were unlikely and unfathomable! You were considering whether you want to help ‘you’ do the deed and cut all ties with Minho.

He was not good for you, and the original you were probably too in love to see that. That must be why they stayed, considering there was a lack of evidence for any hostage or abusive scenarios. Therefore, you would be more than happy to help them get out of this situation, even though it might hurt them in the short run. To be extra cautious, you could write a explanation letter and conduct a plan for their temporary financial coverage if confirmed that Minho was their only source of security.

You could do this. You could save a life! Hurray [Name], you’re finally doing something useful!

“What are you mumbling about?” Minho asked as he knelt on one knee in front of your hunched figure.

You snapped your head up and immediately, your thoughtful eyes turned into a glare. You rasped out a yell, “None of your business!”

His expression did not waver, so you scoffed. “What the hell are you doing here? You can’t be checking up on me.”

“Why can’t I be?” Minho tilted his head to the side.

“Because you are an asshole.” Yu rolled your eyes, finally having the sense to scoot away from him. You sat up straight, still glaring at him but the tension in your muscles has slightly relaxed upon seeing his soft, but still stoic, gaze. “Seriously, what do you want?”

“I’m checking up on you,” he replied. “What are you doing in the closet out of all places?”

“I love this closet. You wouldn’t know.” You shrugged and turned to the side, facing the light around the mirror on your table. “It is quiet. It helps me think.”

“What are you thinking about?” Minho asked, his eyes never leaving you as if he was trying to catch every detail of your movements.

You didn’t answer for a short minute, your eyes boring holes into the wooden desk. When you finally did, you have already made the difficult decision in your head, and you were completely ready to execute it.

“I am deciding if I have ever loved you. It seems like I haven’t,” you told him with a neutral expression as if you were spilling nothing but information that contained no emotional destruction within them. “Or maybe I did, but I certainly don’t now.”

Minho’s mind blanked out. There was his answer. The only thing that was circulating his head were your words, and he didn’t understand why they hurt him so much. He, too, knew he had been distant and cruel to you for most of the marriage. There was no reason for him or anybody else to believe he would ever be sad if the marriage breaks up somehow. But he was hurting. Hearing you confess your lack of endearment stung him like a needle to the skin.

Immediately putting on a facade, Minho raised an eyebrow and he leaned away a little. “Really? Well, what do you suggest we do then?”

You blinked at his cooperative response. This was going too well for your liking, but perhaps your fate had decided to finally be nice to you for once. Shrugging at him, you said, “What else can we do? Let’s talk divorce.”

His heart jumped at the word but his face controlled all that he could express. The jump was not hectic enough for him to burst out of his usual character yet. Heaving out a heavy sigh, Minho smirked with a laugh. “Yeah, right. Why would the people who forced us together agree to separate us?”

It was your turn to laugh now. Everything was going as planned. You should be suspicious of that, but you’d rather relish in the present. “Oh, Minho,” you mused. “There isn’t much you know about arranged marriages, do you?”

He furrowed his brows at you in confusion, and for once you finally let your guard down. Standing up, you urged him to do the same as you walked over to the door. “Come on. I’ll cook us some food and we’ll talk about it together.”

“Like I said, I already got food.” Minho rolled his eyes as he stood up and followed suit behind you, his heart still beating fast.

You glanced down at your slippers and hummed. Now that he’s somewhat agreed to separation, you decided you no longer have to hold a grudge against him. Having some good, expensive food and talking about the shining end to your marriage sounded like a very great end to this problem. Turning to look behind your shoulder, you nodded at him. “Alright, let’s see what you got.”

If all goes as you assumed, you were almost one hundred percent sure his mother hates your guts. Unfortunately, the way to a perfect divorce in these dramatic circumstances was always through the male protagonists’ snobby and obnoxious mother, but you’ve got that covered! You’ve consumed so much media, these archetypes of people were predictable to you.

You waited anxiously at the extravagant coffee house. It was a place for flower teas in floral China cups and overpriced cupcakes stacked in the shape of a fountain. You felt heavily out of place even with the expensive clothes you were wearing, and oh boy, were you anxious about being seen in public when your insides were scrambled with feelings of not belonging. Nobody could read your thoughts, but what if they could?

The conversation you had with Minho last night was a never-ending cycle of you trying to explain divorce to him and him shooting down all the possibilities you pull out of your pocket. He was defending this marriage like he wanted to keep it, and strangely, you would not be surprised that he did. After all, Minho could very well be that male character who was just stoic on the outside but was actually very sensitive on the inside.

However, that was none of your businesses. Who Minho was on the inside didn’t matter to you whatsoever. It poses no value if all he ever does is hide that part of him and mask himself with a terrible facade. An asshole with a secretly good heart is just an asshole. You have made the goal to divorce him, and there was that.

"Oh! There you are!”

An auntie-like voice jolted you out of your nervous state of mind, and you moved your eyes to find an old lady pulling out the chair before you and sitting down. She wore minimal makeup on her face, just enough to make her wrinkly skin shine over her old age. Her clothes were tacky and have an expensive air to them, which was typical of most expensive clothes. You supposed you were in no place to judge.

“I am so sorry for being late!” she said. “I hope you haven’t been here for too long.”

“No, I got here five minutes ago.” You shrugged dismissively, your eyes too focused on watching her movement.

She who sat before you was none other than Minho’s mother, or so you thought who would be the bitch of the century. But everything she showed was against your normal drama characterizations—no tense shoulders, no frown, no condescending gaze, and no slow talking with an old woman nasal tone.

Instead, her eyes were warm as they glanced at you as if you were a long lost child of hers. She was more polite than ever as she explained why she was late for this supposed divorce conference you planned. This was completely unexpected. You weren’t sure how to react now that the possibility of not being able to bring up a divorce has risen.

“Do you know what you want to order?”

You blinked a few times at her and glanced down at the menu. You haven’t gotten the time to look at it, but it felt like you would lose your appetite as soon as you look at the prices printed on the menu. Picking up the menu, you gave her a faint smile and opened the booklet with a thick velvet cover. You laughed a little at yourself. There were no prices labeled. Of course. Rich people need not know how much things cost. Those irresponsible midgets only pay.

“I will get the green tea cake. It is my favorite,” she mentioned, finally setting down the menu.

“Oh, really? Then I guess I should try that out too,” you quickly followed, not really bothering to decide what you feel like consuming as you were already too busy thinking of what to do with your plan.

“Okay great! Let me call the waiter over!”

You smiled at her blindly, still not paying any attention to your surroundings. Oh, you have caught yourself on another stump, [Name]. While still wanting a divorce—oh god, this word would not be leaving your mind anytime sooner—you were starting to think perhaps Minho’s sweet mother would not be the easiest way to signing the papers. She doesn’t seem to hate you at all, which only served as a disadvantage to you in this situation.

You hummed. There was that. But just because she really liked you wouldn’t mean you couldn’t talk to her about wanting to end a marriage with her son. Perhaps a more civilized conversation could be held where you two talk the arranged marriage over like actual adults, and she would most likely only convince you to rethink your decision more carefully without knowing you already did.

It was not the path you were hoping to cross but it would still be a path with the desired result at the end, so you supposed there was no harm in being honest about what you want.

“What is it that you want to talk to me about?”

Alas, a lot of things are easier said than done. I am pretty sure you knew that fairly well with your many years of experience on Earth.

“I… uh…” You clenched your fists and squinted your eyes uncomfortably. The way you kept reminding yourself to be honest did nothing to your feelings.

Minho’s mother tilted her head to the side as her forehead creased with confusion. It was an expression she has never seen you have before, an expression that looked as if you were holding something back because you have something bad to say. To her knowledge, you never needed to say anything bad enough that it punches your moral consciousness in the gut. Not to her, at least. Not even when it was about her son.

“Is it about Minho–“

“I want a divorce.”

The second your voice dropped, so did her expression. You couldn’t look at her, and the striking remorse was baffling you. None of this was your fault, nor have you spend enough time to develop a bond with Minho’s mother, so why should you feel bad about telling her you wanted to leave her son? These people were all strangers! Was this the power of innate empathy people kept yapping about needing to possess?

A look of realization was apparent in her overall troubled expression. Her eyes sparking a hint of light as it dawned on her that Minho has finally done something that reached and crossed the breaking point for you, and it has tempted you to properly ask for a divorce. After the sudden startlement came a wave of tranquility, as if she already knew this would happen sooner or later.

“We can’t do that.” That was all she told you.

“Minho already told me about everything when we discussed this yesterday,” you pressed on carefully. “Legally, I can.”

She gave you a faint look of surprise, possibly from hearing that you and Minho had already talked this over. Then she sighed with a shook of her head. "If you two do get a divorce, there would be no reason for my husband to continue sponsoring your father’s company and keep it going. Your father’s legacy will fall.”

You held back a witty remark at the fact that she was talking as if your father was some prophet who died saving the world and you were supposed to be in line for his succession. Both your father and her husband were both just the CEO of some really big company, you assumed. You didn’t even know what company it was! Cosmetic? Convenience store? Toilet seats? You’d say let it crumble, but for the sake of who would inhabit your being when you return to your world, you denied that approach.

“Why do I have to marry your son for your husband to sponsor my father’s company?” you asked instead. “Sponsorship doesn’t require marriage. It only requires money.”

“Money requires relations,” she said. “He has no reason to help your father when your family was facing bankruptcy until you and Minho got married.”

You pursed your lips together. “There is no relationship going on between me and Minho.”

“And nobody has to know that,” she said, looking at you pointedly. For the first time, the soft aura she exuded was replaced with something formal, more businesslike. “Nobody knows that your marriage is an unhappy one except for me, [Name]. You were the one who caved in and told me.”

Minho had the sense to at least pretend as if he liked you in public. That was rather unexpected even though ‘acting as if everything is okay in front of people’ has always been the first rule to these arranged marriages. And the former you, too, knew enough to not show Minho that they were both uncomfortable and unappreciated when they were with him.

Your hand flew up to your chin, and your fingertips lingered against the aftertouch of Minho’s grip. Your memories had conveniently left out the part where you dug your nails into his skin until it hurt and you never tried to see if his wrist was okay.

“I know Minho can be a little insufferable sometimes, but I hope that you can remember how much you love him whenever those times come,” she leaned forward to speak, her tone much more sympathetic now. “Of course, I am not telling you to never get mad at him. I just hope that you can love him, always, even when you hate him.”

You blinked nervously at her. That was profoundly cheesy and unrealistic. It wasn’t impossible, though. You were sure the former you had mastered the art of hating and loving Minho as a husband. But you weren’t them, and while you didn’t outrightly refuse to fall in love with Minho, he has done absolutely nothing to gain your good interest. The condescending gazes, the potential cheating, the dull voice, the rules, and bad temper—you just couldn’t like him at the moment. And if he doesn’t come back around and change his attitude, you were afraid the impression would become too hard to budge.

“And if that has become too hard for you to deal with, at least do it for your parents’ sake.”

Oh, she pulled the ‘dead parents’ card on you, [Name]! Destroying a person’s love life, even though it was a terrible love life, was a kind of guilt you believed you would get over eventually. But their parents were a whole different story. Family relationship was always a pickle. You’d hate to open the cabinet and steal the bones of those dusty skeletons with you. You wouldn’t suffer real consequences, only those your conscience imposes upon you.

You scrunched your nose up in dismay, feeling stubborn and wanting to act on it so badly, but the situation was starting to feel more and more hopeless as it went on. Biting your lower lip, you asked with a soft voice, not wanting to startle any unwanted suspicion. “Do I… do I even love him at all?”

The look she gave you was patient as if she understood your mixed feelings. She nodded her head. “You have always told me you do. Unless you are lying to me, I don’t see how you don’t love my son.”

You grimaced. No duh? She would think the former you was in love with her son unless it was found to be a lie. That sentence didn’t need to be said. Nevertheless, you glanced down at your hands and clenched them together. You felt like yourself, you looked like yourself, and you sounded like yourself. However, no matter from which part you look at, this wasn’t your life. This ‘rich husband and a bad arranged marriage’ life wasn’t yours. The ‘working overtime and dunking down ramen soup’ life was yours and where you were only qualified enough to live.

If divorcing Minho would come with a package that held more than just leaving a toxic relationship, you would rather not do it. Suffering all the other consequences wasn’t your choice to make.

Seeing the amount of stress that engulfed your body when you finally finished with lunch, your driver took the liberty to drive you all the way to a shopping mall so you could enjoy yourself and cool off some steam. It was a very heartwarming gesture, and you didn’t forget to thank him before you left the car and waited for him to drive away.

The shopping mall was regular. It was the kind of mall you would come across if you joined a tour group to travel to another country. You also liked to call it the shopping mall where you only walk in and never buy anything because every store inside was either too expensive or not of your taste. Most likely both. Despite having more than a sufficient amount of money on your hands at the moment, you just could not shake off the lack of interest for any of these high-end brands.

Puffing air into your cheeks, you chewed on the boba you just bought from a store located at a rather invisible corner. It was the only item you were willing to spend money on, and thank god the store did not try to amp up the prices as Disneyland would with a bottle of tasteless water just because it was located somewhere lavish.

Your mind has wandered off once again, as it has been doing recently. With these events happening all at once, and with your drama-obsessed brain’s absolute calculation, there was one very important thing missing from your life right now: the best friend.

It could be a man or a woman. Depending on the gender, their personalities would vary greatly in the most predictable and distasteful way ever. The man would be great; handsome, caring, smart, and unfortunately a doormat for everyone to step over. The woman, which you had a suspicion may be a role filled by Yuna already, would be terrible; beautiful but jealous and shallow. From what you’ve experienced, your best friend would mostly likely be a man. Possibly extremely in love with you but somehow never got picked, and now his opportunity has vanished due to an arranged marriage.

“Yeah–where is my super hot best friend?” You stopped in the middle of the mall, eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction and lips jutted out into a thoughtful pout. You were dying to meet him, whoever he may be, all just to get a sense of relief that you’ve got somebody to lean on at a time like this.

(You wouldn’t fool me, though. I know you want to satisfy your second-lead syndrome.)

Continuing to walk, your hearing slowly came back to reality and your ears began to pick up noises outside of those in your brain. A very familiar voice rang around your area and you paused once again to hear it more clearly.

“Come on, wouldn’t I look nice in this? Let’s go in, Minho!”

Your eyes rounded at the name and you pursed your lips together. How uncanny. You have never experienced such outrageous coincidence before. Out of all the shopping malls in this country, your husband has to be this particular one and at this particular spot. You squinted your eyes then, your straw sucking up nothing because it was pulled half-way into the air where there were no liquid. A continuous hallowing noise came through the suction, but you didn’t care. This was adding up to the scene of a misunderstanding.

What should you do, you wondered. Make a scene? Complain? Cry about your cheating husband even though he probably wasn’t cheating? If only you were at a fancy restaurant! You’ve always wanted to throw a glass of wine at someone’s face!

“Walk away, [Name],” you muttered to yourself, even after all those excited thoughts, and you fastened your pace.

“Oh–hey! Hey, [Name], is that you?”

You almost choked on the boba in your mouth. Pressing your lips together, you snapped your head up with the most menacing glare you could muster to flash it at the new intruder, and immediately you came face to face with a man with the cutest grin you have ever seen. A strangled noise blew from your throat and came out of your pursed lips, almost out of your nostrils. It was an ugly sound but you could not care less as you beamed inwardly at the sight of the man approaching you. Chubby cheeks, nice smile, not very tall but muscular!

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, “it’s you.”

“Yes, is it I,” he laughed at you. “Why? Did you miss me?”

“Definitely, you have no idea.” You nodded, still chewing on your boba.

He looked surprised for a moment as he tilted his head and that bright smile dimmed. His eyes turned into those of observant ones as he started to look you up and down, then he reached out to pinch your cheek gently while he hummed.

“[Name]…” he started slowly. “You look different. Did you do something–”

“Hands off, Seo Changbin.”

Hands off—what, oh my lord. You widened your eyes at the three simple yet demanding words, and you found your stupid heart leaping at them. Pursing your lips, you lowered your head to hide a smile. God, [Name], how low are your standards? How did that manage to get your heart racing?

Minho didn’t attempt to swat Changbin’s hand away from you, the latter did it on impulse upon seeing the unamused expression on Minho’s face. Raising an eyebrow, Changbin showed nothing more than a sarcastic smile as he leaned back on his weight and stared Minho down lazily from behind you.

“Minho, how wonderful to see you here,” Changbin greeted. His eyes darted to the side to find Yuna walking up to join the gathering, and his forehead creased with light anger for a second.

Shifting his gaze to you, he was surprised to find you sipping on your drink casually as your eyes darted between Yuna and Minho, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He raised an eyebrow at you and stood up straighter, completely confused by the lack of pain flickering in your eyes.

“Hey, Minho,” you greeted. “Hello to you too, Yuna.”

They looked as if they just got called out but despite the faintly rooted embarrassment, the two of them returned the greeting politely. The tension was high and thick, you couldn’t break it with just anything. Not even with a wave of Yuna’s perfectly manicured and sharp nails, which if you’ve had tried, they’re almost impossible to chip on purpose.

“Well, if there is nothing important, I will be leaving.” You shrugged, not quite looking at Minho in the eyes. You couldn’t. Not after having lunch with his mother and after everything she has told you about him. Turning around, you smiled at Changbin. “I am hungry. Can we find somewhere to sit down and eat? Preferably a place with normal, human portion food.”

Changbin cleared his throat. Your remarks were weird. He discreetly threw a glance at Minho, not so much asking for permission but to access the sudden change of dynamic between you two. The man looked even more off-putting than you did, like he was confused and failing to pretend he understood the situation. It was hilarious. Changbin smirked to himself and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

You gave him a soft smile of gratitude, happy that he agreed with no trouble. You didn’t suspect he would anyway; he was supposed to be a pushover. When you turned to Minho again, he looked as stoic as he has always been. You shivered at his expression and gave him a grimace. “Stop frowning, Minho. Your face will get stuck like that.”

Changbin stifled a laugh while Yuna widened her eyes in displeasure. She opened her mouth to speak, but she found it hard to shoot down the truth. Minho does keep his expression on constant angry mode and, while she wouldn’t bluntly say it the way you just did, she also would not mind seeing Minho crack a smile now and then.

“How do you expect me to smile when my spouse is out with someone else?”

“Rethink your sentence.” You glanced between him and Yuna.

Minho noticed and heaved a sigh as he closed his eyes. He explained, “I didn’t plan to come out with her. She dragged me out here.”

You felt bad, and with your world’s state of capitalism and experiences of borderline free labor, feeling bad for someone that wasn’t yourself could be considered a golden empathetic response. Pursing your lips and sucking in a big, unwilling breath, you settled into a leg shaking motion to replace stomping in public like a child. You stopped after a brief moment once you realized you were too occupied with getting to know Changbin to care.

“Well,” you said, gesturing towards the heartbroken girl and already turning away. “There is no harm in letting her drag you around for another hour. You’re gonna have fun! I’ll see you at some point!”

Waving those two a generous goodbye, you quickly beckoned for Changbin to follow you before Minho could get the chance to say something your pettiness has to respond to. After walking for a little, Changbin finally breathed out a puff of air as he placed his hand on his chest to release the awkward tension.

“That was weird,” he said. “But hey, you handled that well! I am really surprised… and confused, I guess?”

“Of course I handled that well. Who do you think I am?” You rolled your eyes.

He laughed. “I guess there isn’t anything for you to worry about. You two are happily married after all.”

You blinked at his response, confused for only a short moment before you quietly exhaled an 'oh.’ Minho’s mother was telling the truth, 'you’ really did not tell anyone else aside from her about how unhappy this marriage has been for you and Minho. Not even the best friend knew.

You looked at the ground. Damn, you were hoping you could ignite some feverish fire between you two. Changbin seemed like someone who you could have amazing chemistry with, as best friends and perhaps, as lovers. However, judging by the way he acted around Minho and how he didn’t seem to mind your marriage at all, you doubted his affection for you was any more than just very close friends. The best friend zone—a delicate place, with steel walls and whatnot.

“Yeah, I really wouldn’t worry.” You smiled.

“Besides, if anything is to happen to Minho and Yuna then it would have ages ago.” Changbin shrugged. “Nothing ever did.”

You grimaced at his remark. Oh god, Yuna. You poor girl.

Minho looked up at the clock. He could feel his anxiousness increase as the clock ticked away the morning after midnight. Checking his phone again, it took him another glance at his zero missed calls and zero new texts to remember you had left your phone at home before you went outside this afternoon.

Changbin still has not read the single, semi-threatening text Minho sent before ten o'clock asking about your whereabouts and demanding him to send you home immediately. He did figure that a reply would be too generous of an act from Changbin. For one, Changbin hated Minho. For two, you were forcibly married to Minho, which only made the hatred go even deeper into the ground. At this point, Minho was one broken secret away from being torn to shreds by your best friend.

He bit his lower lip as his eyes trailed over to the clock once again.

Where were you? You have never been home this late before. Not to mention your actions today at the shopping mall! It was nothing like what Minho thought you were capable of! You had never once ditched him to hang out with Changbin. He practically doesn’t exist whenever you so much as feel Minho’s presence, not because you were scared of him but because you genuinely did love him.

You did love him, did you not? He was sure you did.

In the midst of his thoughts, the front door to the house conveniently swung open. You stepped into the living room and immediately, the old lady who you saw the other morning rushed up to you with a worried look on her face.

“Where have you been!” She lightly hit your arm as she scolded.

You gave her a faint laugh. Her harmless scolding was endearing to you. You hadn’t known you shared such an affectionate dynamic but you weren’t surprised, nor were you opposed to it.

“Changbin took me to a lot of places,” you replied. “Today was fun!”

“Oh, dear lord–and you left your phone at home too!” she said. “You got Minho worried sick–you got me worried sick! I was gonna go home but I wanted to make sure you will come back safely.”

To be frank, you had beeped her out for the most part of her words. Mildly focusing on cooing at her about how Changbin had taken very good care of you this whole day, and her looking as if you were chanting some forbidden spell because you were talking about another man, your mind lingered on the piece of information she gave you: you got Minho worried sick.

Call it your calculative and distrusting nature, but you were having a hard time believing he did it out of care. He thought you unfaithful likely just as much as you thought him. You were okay with the feelings being mutual for now.

“I’m sorry for coming back so late. I will make sure to bring my phone next time.”

“You make sure to come back home early next time!” she exclaimed. “Don’t forget your phone again!”

“Okay, I promise.” You nodded, pursing your lips into a grin.

She waved at your expression that mirrored that of an ignorant child. You were listening, you just weren’t really taking her seriously, in the most respectful and playful way possible.

“You kids,” she sighed and placed her wrinkly hand on your arm. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”

Your chest warmed and you instantly knew why. You missed your mom. She would probably pamper you like this too if you ever came home this late, and probably with a much longer and serious lecture. You wouldn’t know, though. You lived far and you were always working now that you have grown up. Once you were able to return to your world, you figured giving your parents a visit wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“I did. I ate dinner,” you said. “I am really full.”

“Are you sure? I can cut you some apples if you want. There are fruits in the kitchen! Or maybe you want some oranges?”

“No, that’s okay.” You smiled at her gratefully. “I am full. I ate so much today.”

“Okay,” she said, albeit she appeared suspicious. “If there is nothing else then I am going to go home.”

“Now? It’s really late. Why don’t you stay here?” you suggested, turning around to look out the window by the door before turning back to her.

“No worries. The driver was waiting for you to come home too so I can ask for a free ride,” she laughed as she moved over to the front door. Before she left, she turned around to face you slightly, and she nagged, “Go tell Minho you’re back!”

You only gave her a forced smile in response. As soon as those doors closed, a sarcastic and exaggerated grimace appeared on your face. You turned around, walking into the house as you mumbled mean nothings under your breath about not believing that Minho was actually worried about your whereabouts. He’s definitely got better things to do, and it wasn’t as if he cared. Why should he worry? This has to be a dignity issue.

Despite not wanting to talk to him, you found yourself walking to his office anyway. Clearing your mind and your throat, you pursed your lips together in dismay before you knocked on the door. Your eyes widened when it immediately swung open, the lack of waiting you needed to do startling you. Minho’s furrowed brows relaxed for a brief second at the acknowledgment that you were fine and back under the roof, but as usual, he returned to his annoyed state before you could catch the concern appearing in his eyes.

He thought twice about reaching over to grab your arm so he could pull you into the room; the emotional fragment in his chest still aching, even though it wasn’t his place to hurt over something he did to you. Hesitantly taking a step back, he opened the door wider and cleared his throat to put emphasis on his current, very annoyed mood. “We need to talk.”

That is never good. The words itself were fine, but the gloomy tone was never good. Despite never hearing that from anybody other than your parents, your muscles clenched at the simple idea of what that line contained, especially now that you were supposedly married. Taking a tentative step forward, you spared Minho a glance before you walked into the office and paused right in the middle of the room.

You grimaced at the memory of when you were here last time. It was not a good sight to see, not that you had many complaints about whatever really went down back then because you still, until this moment, have zero care of Minho’s love life outside of this failing marriage. The grimace on your face expanded when the door slammed shut. You turned around and eyed Minho with a surprised look.

He glared back at you, obviously angry, and you seemed to have an idea as to why that was. He walked near you, but not close enough to create too much intimidation, and he crossed his arms. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’ve been out,” you said, calmly in hopes that it would rub off on him. “To malls and the streets. Nowhere too far away from here.”

“You were out for really long. Do you know what time it is?” He asked. “It’s way past midnight!”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, really,” you said. “I wasn’t actively checking the time and, well, one thing led to another and by the time we finished chatting, it’s past twelve!”

Minho gulped down the competitiveness that arose when he heard that you have been out with Changbin for the entire day, having fun and chatting like a pair of best friends, which he often forget you were. It should be normal but Minho could not help the tinted jealousy that continued to pour out of his lips in the form of regrettable words. Not to mention, his feelings were magnified after the conversation you both had about a divorce.

He has really gotten too used to receiving your undivided love and attention that, upon the vaguest chance of anybody stealing the throne away, he growls and attacks to make sure he keeps it to himself. Rolling his eyes, he scoffed out a laugh, the corner of his lips quirked up into an unamused smirk. His arms fell from his chest and landed on his side where they found a place to rest on his hips.

“Oh, right, I forgot you were having fun with Changbin.”

“Oh?” The questioning sound was inaudible. Your mind spun fast to understand what he meant with those petty words, and despite being quite entertained by his reaction, you still felt bitter at how unfairly he was treating you. “Yet, you are with Yuna today.”

“Like I said, she dragged me out–“

“You are a grown, not to mention a man. You have more than enough capability to refuse any unwanted situation,” you said. “All you had to do was tell her no. She would have listened to you considering how much she likes you.”

“What? You’re just going to be mad at me about that for the rest of your life?” Minho clicked his tongue in annoyance. He ran a hand through his hair, turning away to convince himself not to explode. “You know, I’ve got plenty of reasons to be mad at you about too!”

You shrugged. “Enlighten me.”

“You went to talk to my mom about getting a divorce,” he accused, his eyes sparklingly wide. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was so upset that he was about to cry.

A part of you was shocked that she told on you, but you wouldn’t put the blame on her for talking to her own son about his relationship. You just hoped she didn’t disclose in detail what you talked to her about. After all, you have really only known Minho for a few days. Your bad opinions of him, although true, were not ideals you wanted to weigh on his back for the rest of his life. A couple of days should not sum up his entire life.

However, in the heat of this situation, your logic was completely thrown out and you both were only aiming to hurt and blame each other as much as you could.

“Huh… I see.” Your shoulder relaxed and your gaze softened as a realization dawned upon you. “You aren’t mad about me coming home late. You don’t care about that at all,” you breathed out a faint, bitter chuckle, “you’re just mad because I talked to your mom about getting a divorce and you got an earful today.”

“Oh, oh no. It is so much more than that.”

“What else are you mad about?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you desperately tried to defend yourself the same way Minho was trying to stand on his ground. “If this is about Changbin, I highly suggest you stop caring–“

“I have to care!” He raised his voice, taking a step towards you. He stopped when you took the same steps back. “We are married, and you just went running off with some other man for an entire day–”

“Let’s not act like you love me enough to care about who I am with, Minho,” you pointed out, furrowing your brows at him. “Even if we are married legally, emotionally, we are as connected as parallel lines.”

He paused at your pretentious yet still poetic line, wondering since when have you gotten the ability to talk with your chin up like that. Then he snapped back to the argument at hand, his head tilting to the side as he hardened his gaze at you. But he wasn’t that angry anymore. He was confused, or at least baffled. “You don’t think I care about you even a slightest bit?”

You heaved a sign. Well, let’s count off all the things he has done for you so far: putting you back to your bed after you fainted, buying you dinner, being a little possessive when Changbin was pinching your cheek, worrying about you being late. For sure, those were pretty heart-racing things to do, and it seemed the effect on your fragile feelings were magnified with his good-looks. But it would not be enough if he only does good things in the shadow. His pretty silhouette could never outrun the shadow that was his stone-cold facade, and he was over here chasing after the impossible sun.

“Maybe a little bit, but I don’t want to settle for a little bit of care,” you told him. “Especially when there is someone out there who is able to provide me with so much more straightforwardly.”

Minho laughed sardonically, rolling his eyes. “We just circle back to that insufferable best friend of yours–“

“No!” You snapped, clapping your hands together on impulse.

Your eyes were wide and teary now, you were really getting into the argument. It felt almost exhilarating; you have never fought with anyone like this before. Fighting over love and whatnot. It wasn’t what you hoped to do. You were really aiming for a much calmer conversation. But at the mention of Changbin, who has been nothing but patient and kind to you, you could not stop yourself from setting the record straight.

“This has nothing to do with Changbin. It has everything to do with you and your shitty attitude, Minho, starting from the first moment I met you until now!” You counted off your fingers, numbering the things he’s done. “You look at me like I’m beneath you. You talk to me like I’m not important at all. We don’t share a bed, we don’t share a closet. You set rules for me around the house. From the sound of it, I’m not even supposed to step into your room. Why is that, Minho? I am really curious about that, truly.”

You stopped talking, but you and him both knew there was more to say than all that you have spoken of.

“I have never complained about anything, have I? All I did is love you, and you took advantage of that to become a spoiled brat,” you said, your hands joined together for a moment before they released each other. Your fingers lingered on the ring, twisting it and turning it as you contemplated your next move.

Minho was speechless as he stared at the ground, but his head was positioned high enough for you to still see his expression. For the first time, he looked genuinely distressed. His fist clenched at his side and his lips trembling in realization. Of these past two days, of all the times before you were even here, of how he has treated you.

You breathed out a soft sigh after calming down. You were sure Minho must have good qualities in him that made ‘you’ fall in love with him in the first place. And, bouncing back to all the dramas you have watched, all characters like him are often too romantically incapable when it came to expressing their true feelings. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you, it was just that he didn’t know how to show it. People like him need a lot of time and comfort, which you were completely willing to give if he was willing to try.

“Look, Minho.” You volunteered to step up so you could be closer to him, closing the distance for an unreachable form of intimacy. You looked at him, an unknown feeling coming over you as you gently tipped his chin up with your fingertips. He looked at you, surprised, but he listened. “I am sure I loved you for a reason, but I can’t love you when you’re like this. I refuse to.”

“How could anyone ever love you like this?” Nobody can, Minho. Not when you couldn’t show the pile of gold locked up in your heart. What have you been so afraid of? Why wouldn’t you let it out?

Minho’s eyes watered and he bit his feelings back. “What do you want me to do?”

“If I tell you then there’s no meaning to it.” You shrugged as you let him go, and he missed the warmth of your touch. You reached for your own hand as you smiled politely at him. “You can hold onto this for me.”

You left the room after you handed him the object. The door closed behind him and Minho opened his hand. The wedding ring stood on his palm, shining bright and expensive.

It looked as if it would cost him his entire heart.

173 notes · View notes

imyourrjoy · 9 months

Text

The power held over me

Summary: A new duo arrives in jackson after being found in the snow, praying

Warnings : DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!!!!!, abusive parents, toxic religion, toxic people all around, misogyny, hitting, threats, self dought,fear , stop here if it's too much the series will just get darker

Word count : 2.6k

Paring : dark!Joel Miller x pastors daughter!afab!reader

Part 1 / ?????

Masterlist

A/n : she's dark, very dark. This is your last waring, btw. And thanks so much to my pokie wookie bear @xoxo-honeyy for helping me revisit and figure most of it out she's amazing not only for that but also putting up with my dyslexic ass, ily pokie 💋 and give her love as well.

The cold was the worst, especially in a dress. Your dad gave you his jacket but you were still freezing despite the extra protection. The two of you had somehow ended up near a lake, Your father said he could hear a dam nearby, you didn’t know what a dam was, but apparently, it meant that people were near since it's on that means people near and we should be careful and should pray before we continue to pray that God keeps us safe for another day.

You kneeled down on the dense snow. Your legs against the snow made you feel even colder, but your father said to thank Jesus under all circumstances and not to complain in his name.

Your father started the prayer in a loud, confident voice, “Dear heavenly father, we kneel here to ask you for guidance and appreciation to ask for help as you guide us on your path and lead us to safety and not shen ways of harm, amen.”

Bringing your hands to a prayer position you continued praying hoping the cold would go away.

“Hands up”

Your eyes flew open and you saw your father being held at gunpoint, people on horses, and dogs barking. You almost screamed in fear. Were they raiders?, slavers?, or worse were they sinners?

“She said hands up.” Another voice barked at you.

You looked at your dad and put your hands up. The people looked warm physically and emotionally, you felt jealous of them, you tried to will the jealousy away but nothing was working. You repeated the prayer in your head, I am sorry, God, I am not jealous. I am grateful for your gifts. The people then started talking to one another.

“Send out the dog and make sure they're not bit”

“We can assure you we aren't. We are children of God just like you all”

The dogs barked and sniffed us. Then, a different member of the group walked up to us getting off of their horse, and they walked right up to you.

“Stand up, you poor thing, no pants in this weather.”

The brown-haired woman tied her jacket around your legs.

“Thank you,” You replied.

“Don’t touch her,” Your father stood up, but the lady just ignored him.

“Lower the guns. We should take them into town the get some real clothes,” The brown-haired woman seemed to be in charge which seemed odd, you thought men were the ones who were supposed to lead?

Town? You’d only heard stories about places like that. Your father told you that when your mother was alive before the devil took her for being a sinner, that's when you all lived in a little house near the water, a large lake more specifically.

“She is in more than enough clothes”

The lady shot your father a scathing look, “Tommy ride with him and take his backpack. I’ll take the girl.”

The man, Tommy, took your father towards his horse, and the lady took you to hers. When you started the long journey, you were in awe of the surroundings, but nothing could compare to the smell. The smell of fresh food, fire, and the snow falling you were utterly captured by it. When you see large wooden gates and lots of people with guns, you think to yourself i'll pray for them.

"Welcome to Jackson,"

She said as the gates opened, she'd never seen anything like that. it was a town where the stories were true? We rode in, and she helped me off the horse. You were a little worried you hadn't seen my Dad since he got on Tommy’s horse.

"He's fine. Tommy's just gonna show him around while I get you some clothes. What's your name?"

she gave her a smile of relief.

You gave them your name and they smiled warmly

She started walking and you followed her into a shop like building full of clothes she looked at some jeans and before she could hold them up you interrupted her,

"I can't wear pants."

She almost laughed.

"And why is that?"

"It's a sin,"

She scoffed.

"God would rather you live than freeze."

She handed me a pair of jeans``.” you were shocked someone would ever say his name like that.

"But my D-"

"Go change,"

She cut me off and looked for a top, a simple sweater. You were so scared you were gonna go to Hell if she put on these pants. You'll have to pray for hours for God to forgive you.

"You can change there, and trust me, you won't die over pants."

"it's a sin,"

"Honey, trust me, you're not gonna die,"

You took a deep breath and walked into the changing room. You wanted to cry. You were gonna die for this, burn in Hell for eternity, and be with those monsters. You took off the layers and layers of jackets and a dress. The tears started flowing as you put on the jeans. You felt like you had committed the worst crime in the world, and you started begging for forgiveness as you changed.

You started mumbling quickly under your breath, "Dear heavenly father, I am a sinner, and many have sinned by your grace. She prays for my and others' forgiveness. Have mercy on me, your faithful servant of God, according to your faith and love. "

You put on the top, “.” wiped your tears, and walked out of the changing room. When you came out, she the lady had a pink jacket.

"Here she'll keep you warm, and the color suits you."

She was right. The color did suit you.

"Thanks."

"Put it on, let's make sure it fits, and after I'll show you around town."

You put on the jacket and zipped it up. As We walked out, you kept your head low. You shouldn't look at other people if you are in the midst of sin. At least, that's what dad says. She showed me the canteen, a woodworking shop, and even a school. Then you saw my dad and the man, you ran up to them.

"Dad!"

You threw yourself at him and he caught me pulling me into a big hug

"Oh my love, it's ok. You’re safe, God has found us home at last,"

You smiled and saw Tommy go up to maria

"Dad, we need to find a place to pray."

You were so ashamed of the pants, and it seemed like my dad started getting angry.

"We will. They have a church we shall go there and pray for forgiveness and pray you won't become a monster like the rest of the sinners in the world, my love,"

Maria and Tommy walked back up to you and you're dad.

"Well, before we bring you guys to your lodging, we need to talk about the rules, and you all look parched. Let's go to the canteen and get some food?" Tommy said.

my dad nodded in agreement as we all started making our way to the canteen. The closer we got, the more the scent of freshly cooked food invaded your senses, it was so much different from the old canned beans we usually had. We walked into the canteen. It was made of beautiful wood, lights hanging from the ceiling, people giving out plates of food, and others eating it was beautiful.

"Here, I'll take the young lady to get some food. y’all can find a place to sit,"

Tommy walked me to the line of the canteen

"We have rabbit or sheep today, which would you like?"

"Sheep, rabbits are too cute to eat."

Tommy laughed and got two plates and started putting sheep on both.

"So I hear your names y/n is that correct?"

"Yes."

He started putting vegetables onto the plates.

"And your dad is a preacher or just a very devoted man of God?"

she thought that was a dumb question, he's a pastor he told me he was dressed like a pastor. it made you laugh.

"A pastor, of course,"

We moved over to get drinks for you and your father, but before Tommy could grab the pitcher of water you weren't sure what it was sense it wasn't water colored more like mud you're not sure.a girl younger than me grabbed you were more shocked she had pants you hadn't thought of it but a lot of girls here wear pants she should pray for them

"Excuse me,"

She filled up her glass as Tommy protested, “Ellie”

she smiled as she left

"Sorry about her, she's my brother's kid, she's very outgoing, let's say."

"She's fine, but I am worried about the number of women in pants I'll have in my prayers. Does this place allow sinning?or something?" Your voice was filled with concern.

He continued to fill up the cups and looked confused”." That's one way of looking at it for now. Let's just get you both fed,"

We all sat down at the table. You've never eaten so fast, and that water,which was apparently sweet tea, you think too yourself it's probably your new favorite thing. Dad kept telling me to slow down, but you couldn't. You were so hungry and happy to eat something real.

"So, Maria told me you have a multi-faith church?" Your dad asked as he finished eating and scraped the leftovers onto your plate.

Maria replied in a calming tone, "Yes and you’re a preacher, so I’m assuming you would like to have a mass of some sort, which is fine with me and with the council, but first we need to go over the rules the whole reason we came here"

At the mention of rules, you stopped eating and started listening.

"All able-bodied people over the age of 18 unless, unable to due to their health, a disability or lack of survival skills are required to patrol . We rotate every week, two people are in a group. We classify ourselves as a commune which means we all share everything, nothing belongs to just one person, we all respect one another. As well, pitch in and have jobs based on what skills we have or what we're good at. Understand?"

You noticed your dad wasn't too fond of the rules, but he both nodded in agreement.

"So how old is your daughter?" Tommy inquired.

Your dad sighed, "Around 19, we don't know specifically, but she was born about a year after the outbreak. My wife at the time had just gotten pregnant,"

You kept my head down, you missed your mom a lot, she wasn't like my dad she loved God and they taught me to love Him but she liked to tell me about my room shen the town, teach me to read and write she hated that she was a sinner as dad says she didn't believe enough you remember the verse we read for her after she died “For the wages of sin she's dead”. Dad says she wasn't devoted enough.

"Joy, how do you make a fire?"

Tommy asked me the question, and you laughed,"My dad makes those they aren't ladylike"

You doesn't know why he looked taken back. You're a woman. You're supposed to cook,look pretty for your husband and put God above all.

"Joy, you see that girl over there,"

Marshea pointed to a group of girls, including the one who took the pitcher, you nodded."How about you introduce yourself? Make some friends while Tommy and she talk to your dad."

You smiled and walked up to the girls. They all had tea and some food. They all wore pants as well. Before she could say anything a dark-hashered girl spoke

"New to Jackson?"

she nodded

"No way, hey”

The girl from earlier hit my shoulder playfully

"Well I’m Ellie welcome. To my humble abode, take a seat”, you took a seat next to her

"So how'd you find Jackson?” Ellie questions and then thinks for a second, “or did the patrolman find you?

" Well, my father and I just keep moving and, apparently, have traveled throughout. for my whole life moving looking for the place God wants us. And we saw the dam which is when my dad said we should start praying for people or a town, that’s what it’s called right?"

Ellshee immediately responded, chuckling a bit, “Gosh, aren’t you ancient.”

The girl, Ellshee, laughed louder, and it got to your head. Maybe she’s just not used to someone like you?. Maybe it's because you didn't know what town is was?. Either way, it, didn't feel good.

"Ellie, don't be mean" The gruff and slightly hoarse voice came from behind me.

You quickly turned my head to see an older man with graying hair with brown spots sprinkled throughout it, There were also prominent scars on his nose and temple, To say the least, the man looked frightening

"Oh come on"

Ellie protested but the man shushed her.

"Y’ know Ellie, she could probably teach you a thing or two, a girl like her shes a woman of God." He sent a sly wink towards you

He took a seat across from us and Ellie rolled her eyes, "Hi there hon I'm m Joel and this here is my daughter, Ellie don't mind her she's a bit rough around the edges"

"I am not"

she laughed at the little bantering and you got asked the same basic questions before Maria walked up to us,

"she see you've met Tommy's brother,” there was a slight frown on her face,

“come on it's time to see your new home"

You waved goodbye to the pasher and met up with Tommy and my dad again. We all started walking through the town , towards an a cute little house with a small porch and yellow panels.

"The heat, water, and electricity are on and Father you can't wait to see what your Sunday mass is like don't be afraid to reach out if you need anything."

Tommy gave my dad the keys and they walked away after saying goodbye for the night. The house was the same as the rest but it had some personality. It was dusty but rustic. It had two bedrooms and one bathroom, a kitchen that worked a couch, and TV that wasn't of any use but still, it was so nice everything was until my dad looked at me up and down.

"Why the pants? Is my daughter a monster, a sshenner, unfaithful to her lord"

You looked down and the floor,

"Marshea told me that she wouldn't burn and that shet was prac-"

Before you could finish your sentence my father hit me across the face

"Practical your put practicality over your lord and savor????"

Cold dread washed over your body.

"No Dad i-"

He hit me again making me fall to the floor, then he grabbed a fistful of my hasher

"Tomorrow you're getting rid of those pants, if i see them again i'll see to it that God knows of every sin that my child has committed and that my prayers for her forgiveness for her not to become those monsters were all for nothing as her love for him was fake"

You started crying once my dad let me go. He walked into one of the bedrooms while you sat there crying until finally making my way to bed.

You got on your knees and started your nightly prayers you needed to pray for myself, my Father, and God

You brought your hands together

"Dear heavenly father, thank you for your bountiful love and sacrifice. Thank you for leading me and my father to Jackson. I am sorry I have committed the sin of wearing pants. she shall never do it again. My lord, your Bible is the truth, and I am your faithful servant. I pray for my forgiveness as well as the forgiveness of the woman shen Jackson also guilty of this crime. I pray for my mother that though she's a sinner, you forgive her shen the afterlife, and may the devil have mercy on her. And lastly, I pray for my father. I pray that he stays healthy and bountiful. Praise the Lord as he watches over us in our sleep amen."

#tlou #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal #dark!joel #dark!joel miller #pastors daughter! x joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou hbo #dark fic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #tlou show #joel miller x reader

217 notes · View notes

meraki-yao · 5 months

Note

Hi correct me if I’m wrong but I thought I saw you mention that the same intimacy coordinator who worked on rwrb also worked on m&g, if that’s so, why was the intimacy approached differently, it seems rwrb was really toned down and alex and henry are a very passionate couple in the books and nich and taylor can definitely deliver passion and intimacy and it was rated-r so why do you think rwrb was approached differently and rather toned down, I mean what we got was great I’m still so attached to this movie 3 months later and that doesn’t happen often unless I absolutely love the movie or show but I feel like they were holding back and it becomes the question of why, was it n&t choice or matthew and intimacy coordinator or everything was done in how they wanted to tell the story, idk to me you can’t help but notice after the release of the trailer/teaser for m&g, I know it’s a different story and it’s more a drama based on a true story but very different in how they approached intimacy and affection

Okay so this turned into an essay.

I’m gonna dissect your ask into two parts, feel free to send me another ask if I missed something

Q1: Why was the intimacy in RWRB approached differently and less intense than M&G

Q2: Why was the intimacy in RWRB toned down from the book even with an R rating and with Taylor & Nick clearly capable of delivering passion and intimacy, and who was responsible for that

Firstly, yes, Robbie Taylor Hunt was the intimacy coordinator for both RWRB and M&G

Secondly, a little bit of background for M&G to aid my explanation later: While M&G isn’t out yet, I did read George Villiers’ Wikipedia page (Thanks Henry), listen to Nick talk a bit about him from a podcast episode, and watch the trailer. To summarize quickly, King James I has a list of male lovers, Mary Villiers realized her son had potential, so she more or less moulded him into a figure that the King would immensely like. Sex with the King was all for political power: George has sex with the King, and the King enjoys the pleasure he brings and lavishes him with treasures and political power in return. Historical records seem to indicate that the King really did love George as a partner, as odd (and in our modern times, toxic and maybe even “grooming”, George was 21 and the King was 48 when they met) as their relationship was. But the truth is George gained a lot from the King: he ended up one of the highest-ranking members of the court, and the only duke who wasn’t from the royal family.

So to answer your questions:

A1:

It’s mainly because since these are two different stories, the meaning of intimacy is different in each context.

RWRB is a love story. It is about the growth of the romantic relationship between Alex and Henry. Granted, they started with a friends-with-benefits arrangement but from the moment Henry kissed Alex on New Year's they both held mutual, genuine affection towards each other which later grew into love and devotion. This affection doesn’t have an underlying hidden purpose. Their intimacy is a reflection of their genuine feelings towards each other, which is why Paris is so gentle, quiet and soft. That’s the slow comfort of falling in love. Note that in the Paris scene, while it is clear what they’re physically doing, the focus is on their faces. You don’t see much below their waist. Matthew made that choice deliberately: this was an emotional experience for them as much as it was a physical experience. The sex in RWRB shows growing love.

Sex means something entirely different in M&G. To put it in a crude way, George Villiers, under his mother’s order/guidance/manipulation, fucked his way to power. Is there real affection and love between him and any or all of his partners, the King included? We honestly can’t know, because history only records what Geroge wanted to show, but it is incredibly unlikely that he did. Remember how I said there isn't an underlying hidden purpose in Alex and Henry’s affection? That’s not true for George: the hidden purpose is that he wants political power. Sex isn’t love in M&G, it’s entirely power play. And power play is violent and rough and messy, so the sex, as a reflection of that, is portrayed as such as well. Note that in the trailer, we see a lot of the body, but if you look at their faces, which isn’t the focus, he… kinda looks in pain?

A way I see it is in RWRB, Alex and Henry are both giving each other pleasure, as well as their heart. It’s slow, it’s gentle, and it’s respectful: Henry guides Alex in, Alex pays attention to each change on Henry’s face, and only moves when Henry consents, and even then, he moves slowly and the speed later builds up

Now look at the M&G trailer, it’s more like George’s partners are taking pleasure from him. It, at the very least, looks far less mutual than what Alex and Henry have. Geroge gives others pleasure, and in return, he gets political power.

TLDR: RWRB’s intimacy was less intense than that of M&G because intimacy has a different meaning/ symbolism in each story.

A2:

Part of this is because of the limitations of movie storytelling.

A book doesn’t have time limits, a movie does.

If you look at the book, at the beginning of Alex and Henry’s relationship, a lot of the sex was kind of repetitive in a way. Paris and MET for Alex’s birthday were covered in three pages. And both of those Alex compartmentalized as “friendship with benefits”. Aside from the internal monologue of him observing Henry sleeping which can’t be delivered on screen effectively, it’s mostly reiterating the same sentiment from the polo match: they use their international events as escapades to have sex with each other. But put that in the movie and it would take up the limited movie time, time that needs to be used for effective storytelling. The time used for Alex and Henry’s walk in the Paris garden could be used for a montage of all of their kinky sexual shenanigans instead, but if the polo hook-up can establish the intensity of their hooks up in the same way, then that time is better used exploring Henry’s baggage. TLDR: not enough time in regard to the number of times they have sex compared to the book.

The other part is by Matthew’s design.

I don’t remember where I saw/heard it from, either a podcast or an article, where Matthew half-jokingly said people will get bored if it’s just smut all the time. Yes, Alex and Henry are a very passionate couple, as shown by their first hook-up in the movie and the polo scene, but because gay sex in media is mostly portrayed as this wild, sexy frenzy, Matthew also wanted to show that gay sex can be emotionally vulnerable, which is why Paris was so focused on their faces, ergo, their emotions. Matthew wanted it to be something gentle and emotion-focused, so that was his priority in designing the scene.

Also there’s the fact that they’re older in the movie, thus more mature and a little less… hormonal. I think they get to the emotional connection a little earlier than their book counterparts.

A thing to note is that the movie wasn’t aiming for an R rating. In a really good podcast episode with Matthew and Tommy Didario, he even expressed disappointment in MAP for rating the movie R, saying that if it was a straight couple, it most likely wouldn’t have gotten an R rating, and even if we ignore latent homophobia, there’s are films much more violent than RWRB is sexually explicit, yet those films are PG 13.

I agree that if needed, Nick and Taylor can deliver something more intense. They’re clearly comfortable with each other, as seen from the bloopers of Paris morning and the fact that Robbie wasn’t there when they shot the lake scene, yet they were comfortable enough with touching each other and gentle kisses. They’ve also both done more explicit things: Taylor with Minx, Nick with M&G (granted that came later).

But the thing is, the RWRB movie doesn’t exactly… need more, from the storytelling perspective. I might say putting a sexy montage in between Polo and Paris might clarify the timeline a little, but that would still just be little clips of what we’ve already seen in the previous two scenes. And just from what I’ve seen, people who have read the book (myself included) would think it’s toned down, but some YouTube reaction videos from people who haven’t read the book find it really spicy. We book readers just have a comparison.

TLDR: In the movie's story, we didn't really need more sex scenes

Wow, I didn’t intend this to be so long, but I haven’t written a RWRB essay in a hot minute. This was a lot of fun, so thank you for the ask, and I hope I could answer you!

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry hanover stuart fox #henry fox mountchristen windsor #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #mary & george #george villiers #matthew michael lopez #rwrb bts #rwrb thoughts #rwrb analysis #robbie taylor hunt #anon ask #answered #meraki essay

61 notes · View notes

baddestbittyontheblock · 3 months

Text

dolliewu's january fic recs

ꪶ ꫂ hi everyone, i've decided join in on monthly fic recs. i hope you all enjoy my faves of january!! ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ also, if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ꪶ ꫂ

ꪶ ꫂ dividers: @chilumitos, banner: toby cosmico on pinterest ꪶ ꫂ

woso

alexia putellas

❅ against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part twelve (final part) by @thesunisatangerine alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader | mentions of grief, suggestive content

-this wasn’t the first time you caught yourself thinking how difficult it was to have two professional athletes in your life, and it also wasn’t the first time you wondered how their bodies could store so much energy.

❅ aromatic affections by @codiemarin alexia putellas x reader | fluffy smut, fingering, more fluffy than smutty actually

-you´ve had a rough few weeks and alexia wants to help you feel better.

ingrid engen, mapi leon

❅ always want you by @girlgenius1111 ingrid x mapi x reader

-with mapi injured, and ingrid running herself ragged with the team, r does everything she can think of to take some of the stress of them. she neglects herself in the process though, until an injury forces her to slow down. she doesn't take it very well.

aitana bonmati

❅ cope, coffee, and poetry by @repulsiveliquidation aitana bonmati x reader | smut, angst, mentions of cheating. 18+ DNI.

-“you deserve a lover who takes away the lies and brings you hope, coffee, and poetry.”

kpop

blackpink

❅ good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere by @jensettermandu g!pjennie kim x fem!reader | mdni, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships, 12k+

-y/n opened the door to her apartment as the knocking wasn't stopping and groaned at the person on the other side.

twice

❅ like last years vogue by @sanazakis minatozaki sana x fem!reader | rich kids!au, smut, bondage, edging, praising, spanking, strapping, sana has her middle-class shit together, kinda friends to lovers, friends with benefits, money, sex, power, inspired by the wolf of wall street, which if you haven’t watched yet, can be described in three words. money, sex, power. (and drugs, so maybe not three words.)

-and maybe you’re just tired of the limitations of wealth, the grandeur, the opulence. maybe you’re just tired of seeing the same people day in and day out. but without that, there’s only sana — sana who smirks at you like there's a joke you’re never in on, who shows up in spaces she doesn’t belong and makes you want her.

❅ they can't love you like i love you by @sanarkeo dom!idol!nayeon x sub!idol!reader | exhibitionism, humiliation, power dynamics? unnie kink, 4k

-nayeon wants to show her girl off to the world.

aespa

❅ over her by @myouicieloz yoo jimin x reader | a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals

-you overhear karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her

peaky blinders

❅ little one by @tommyshelbyslittleprincess tommy shelby x reader

-tommy notices your pregnancy before you do

celebrities

harry styles

❅ taught well by @signoferoda dad!harry styles x reader

-the kids go into protective mode after someone flirts with y/n at the beach

call of duty

simon "ghost" riley

❅ too good by @dammn-dean simon riley x fem!reader | 2.4k

-"love, they are here!” simon’s voice bellowed through the flat to reach your ears.

❅ dad!simon blurb by @ragingbookdragon dad!simon riley x reader

-there’s something about seeing simon riley as a dad that makes her heart swell with love and adoration

❅ dig a little deeper by ^ simon riley x reader | explicit language, blood and wounds, 1.4k

-the pain surged through her side as she managed to pick herself up off the ground, rattled by the blast that had knocked her off her feet and into the dirt.

❅ his girls by @casiia simon riley x fem!reader | the SMALLEST bit of angst, just a lot of overly detailed domestic simon, baby daddy simon who is still in love with you, maybe ooc

-baby daddy!simon who walks with his daughter to school for her first day, he’s has her small disney-themed backpack tugged onto his shoulder, the straps too small and digging into his skin. but he doesn’t care.

❅ older boyfriend!simon by @luvit simon riley x gn!reader | mdni, 18+

-older-boyfriend!simon who tries to push you away at first.

❅ what they would say during sex by @prettybean cod x reader | 18+

-“i know it's big”

❅ simon blurb by @starstruckmiraclekitty simon riley x reader | fluff

-“you’ve fallen for them, haven’t you?”

❅ simon smut by @callmemickey simon riley x reader | smut

-simon riley fucks intensely and passionately.

❅ to be alive in the summer by @halcyone-of-the-sea simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader | angst, betrayal, intense gore, violence, death, allusions to intimacy, weapons, vulgar language, recovery, torture, happy ending, 8.3k

-betrayal had never been in your cards, and you definitely didn't see yourself being the one responsible for the act. When having to go undercover, first comes the problem of staging your death.

❅ simon fic by ^ simon riley x fem!reader | gore, death, blood, panic attack

-your body shakes violently, blood dripping down like crimson tears from your hands. the overwhelming sense of dread sits with bullet fragment aggression in the delicate make-up of your psyche.

❅ denial by @callsign-prophet simon riley x reader

-you're not his girlfriend, but don't you dare to have a date with someone else. if he only has eyes for you, so do you.

❅ dad!simon by @lundenloves dad!simon riley x reader | fluff, angst

-simon reacting to his oldest daughter having a small crush on a boy at school! overprotective simon having to be scary

❅ secret wife by @moongreenlight simon riley x secretwife!reader

-if there’s one thing gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up.

❅ lovely by @yawnderu dad!simon "ghost" riley x mom!reader | fluff

-"she looks just like you."

❅ simon comforts his son during a tantrum by @nsharks dad!simon riley x reader | very brief abuse mention

-“what do we need the cranberries for, love?”

❅ neighborhood watch by @kkvqwrites simon riley x fem!reader | violence, breaking and entering, SA mentioned/alluded to (not on-screen)

-the news had reported some unsolved break-ins. if you thought simon took it overboard with his protectiveness before, you were in for a shock.

❅ talk dirty to me by @yujivrs konig, ghost, and price | praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification

-their dirty talking styles.

könig

❅ cute blurb by @peaches-creek könig x reader

-you have been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. the gargantuan man that slept beside you has been knocked out, as he has been for hours.

❅ distracting dreams. longer name by @dizzykss könig x reader | marks, fingering, pussy play, semi-public, slight age gap

-könig notices you avoiding him. and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out that it’s all because of a little dream you had.

❅ talk dirty to me by @yujivrs konig, ghost, and price | praise, slight breeding kink, degradation, dumbification

-their dirty talking styles.

❅ the invisible string theory by @halcyone-of-the-sea könig x fem!reader | human trafficking, mentions of unwanted touching, trauma, blood, gore, guns, bullets, protective!könig, soft!könig, nightmares, mentions of bullying, etc.

-you didn't expect the man who gave you his coat to be the same one to bust down the door where you and the other women slept - sniper hood scaring everyone within an inch of their life. you didn't expect him to become so important to you, either. (based on könig's in-game backstory)

52 notes · View notes

gojos-thot-patrol · 7 months

Note

I have request on sukuna as a warlord and potions maker witch reader

Sukuna invaded a village to add to his kingdom yet he found a shop that sells potion the shopkeeper is anything then what he expected like the reader is more different from any women/concubine been with

Story short sukuna starts to buy/ take from her potions on cursed energy or strength or healing potions.......ex in exchange for protection and money sukuna provide for the witch

Like she is bold and fearless yet seems odd or cunning/mysterious yet very hothead woman because she is always silent and prefers her isolation he always be wondering the forest alone which annoy sukuna he thinks she is reckless and stuff (the boy start to be very protective in way)

then act like mocha he doesn't care or give dam but is head over heels for reader you know~

Anyway I think sukuna would be very taunting or mocking to the reader as woman like he like to remind her

her place to him (maggot/worm/in bed/very misogynistic words.....) reader stays quiet because she isn't in the mood to spray her clean walls red (reader is part demon too/yet hide her powers to control them)

Yet sukuna stalks and follows her every day in defense he doesn't trust she won't sell her potions to other sorcerers uraume with him too sometimes they take turns to watch her uraume would spy on everything she does to inform her lord secretly enjoy to watch reader too

Reader does treat sukuna with coldness and indifference (slightly sukuna relaxed of it because it reminds him of how his mom used to treat him...... yeah I have headcanon in my head the sukuna loves tough love to even toxic)

Sukuna would be thinking is already in dating the shopkeeper hell probably think he owns THE SHOP TOO like boy would possessed reader and her stuff not mention his jealousy when male costumers come in he would watch like hawk ready to strike

But mostly I think reader well deal with him as if he is a big cat like she sees him cat he needs love and pets like so doesn't take him seriously yet do have admiration to his strength and mindset as she thought he would be another buff freak sukuna isn't like any man she me (which is the same to sukuna) she admit it to sukuna one time sukuna was red like tomatoes for 3 hours straight ~

I think about the festival in which the witch reader changes and wears a very beautiful red kimono the would make sukuna not stop staring at her for all night but noticed how upset reader is when he ask reader tell him her date didn't come like he promised (unknown to her sukuna had eaten the man ........)

Yeah a intimate night afterwards not to mention she isn't going out from his room without permission~

Darling, you've already written the request!! The ideas here are really solid, they just need a little bit of love to become something amazing!! You should link me when you right the full fic, I'd be so happy to read it <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #rosemarydone321

65 notes · View notes

jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

Text

Over The Odds | Surprise

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, fluff, ceo!jungkook, sugardaddy!jungkook

Word count - 5.7k

You’re offered a life changing opportunity

warnings: mentions of mental health illnesses, mental health facility, toxic family members, oral sex (f receiving), passionate prone bone sex, soft jk & oc

FULL SERIES COLLECTION

Jungkook’s home has become your safe haven, a place to escape reality and catch a moment of breathing space when life gets tough. The familiar scent of musk and vanilla adds a certain nostalgia to the air, you miss him, he’s at work a lot of the time but has given you free reign of his place whenever sleeping in Jimin’s bed proves too much for you. It’s been one month since Ruth’s arrest, one month since Jennie had also been taken into police custody for her part in all of this too. Finally, fucking finally you’re beginning to feel like a ginormous weight has lifted from your shoulders.

Telling your parents what your sister had done was no easy task, your mum broke down in floods of tears and blamed herself: ‘maybe I raised her the wrong way’, ‘maybe I should’ve been there for her more’, and the one that stung the most, ‘I should’ve seen this coming’. Your father had a similar reaction, locking himself in his office for what felt like a lifetime to silently ponder all the parental mistakes he made, searching for the signs he overlooked before.

After a lengthy discussion with Taehyung you were advised that Ruth is probably going to be sent to a mental health institute to battle her demons rather than prison. A professional had conducted an examination on your sister, revealing that she is suffering with a collection of illnesses that alter her personality. As far as you’re aware she’s undergoing treatments and responding well to the medication, it’s hard to say for sure because you haven’t visited her yourself – only your parents have, initially to seek answers from their oldest daughter but you suspect they keep going back out of guilt.

Thankfully no legal repercussions came from Jungkook fighting with Namjoon, he’s assured you that there’s no footage of him ever being there and Taehyung has also advised that if anything is to creep up, he’s more than prepared for it with a catalogue of receipts proving why Joon isn’t a reliable source and any claims he makes shouldn’t be taken seriously by the law.

The hole in your heart from Namjoon’s infidelity has healed, however the betrayal of your sister is currently a working progress. If it wasn’t for Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi god only knows how you would be feeling right now. Things are settling down some, you’re applying for jobs left right and centre but to no avail, not yet – Jungkook has been taking care of you in every way possible: emotionally, physically, financially, despite your frequent protests telling him he doesn’t need to.

It's a Friday morning when you’re sitting in your boyfriend’s kitchen, propped up on the counter top in short silky pyjamas with a coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. You’re mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, saving a few outfit inspiration posts that catch your eye when the device rings, displaying an unknown number.

“Hello?” You answer lazily, confused.

A woman who sounds to be mid thirties replies, “Hello, good morning, is this Y/N?”

“Who’s calling please?” You frown, sipping at your steaming drink.

“My name is Linda, I work for the BBC. Just to confirm am I speaking to Y/N?”

“…The BBC?” You cock your head to one side, “Yeah this is Y/N, what can I do for you?”

“Brilliant! I’m calling today to arrange a meeting with you if possible, I work in television and we’re currently looking into a documentary on cyber crimes against women in the UK. I’m very interested in sharing your story, with your consent of course. You’re quite the celebrity these days and I think with your platform we could really shine a light on this topic and the repercussions that come from stories like yours.”

Your jaw drops, you’re frowning, eyes wide, heart quickening.

“I-,” You’re at a total loss for words, this is something that you feel so strongly about and the chance to potentially help others who have gone through similar experiences is something you’re very much interested in doing, “That sounds like something I’d be interested in doing, when can we meet?”

“How does next Thursday at 2PM sound?”

“That would be great, thank you so much for calling me…” You’re wearing a surprised smile, already excited about the prospect of this new opportunity.

“No thank you for taking my call, take care Y/N we’ll see you next week and please feel free to brainstorm any ideas you may have, we’d like you to be as involved in this project as possible.”

“Thank you, have a good day.” You end the call with a single tap of the thumb, throwing yourself off the kitchen countertop with a grin to get ready for the day ahead.

BBC want your help sharing your story about cyber crimes against women? This could open up so many doors for your career, maybe you can even make use of your business degree and turn the hellish events of this year into something much, much bigger. Your brains doing overtime when you do your hair and makeup after a quick shower, deciding today is a day for celebration. You shimmy yourself into a champagne slip dress, a recent gift from your boyfriend, and grunge it down with some converse and an oversized black leather jacket.

The paparazzi are already waiting outside Jungkook’s building for you, as they usually are these days, so you offer them a small smile and wave before making your way to Jimin’s place to tell him your surprising yet very exciting news.

“Y/N? What are you doing here it’s not even 10AM.” Jimin rubs the sleep from his eye in his matching blue pyjamas, stepping to one side to let you in.

“Good morning sunshine. The BBC just called me, they want me to be in a documentary about cyber crimes against women.” You blurt in excitement which seems to wake your best friend up as he’s grinning just as widely as you are.

“Whoa, Y/N that’s amazing! Are you gonna do it?”

“Maybe? I think it could be a good thing to help them with this?”

Jimin pulls you in for a hug in the cluttered living space, you notice there’s cardboard boxes scattered about the apartment, “I think it’s a great thing, I’m so proud of you—”

“For having sex on camera?” You chuckle against his warm neck, “No but really, I wanna raise awareness for this type of thing, I already have so many ideas to tell them.”

“What’s Jungkook said about it?” He peels back and you catch a glimpse of Yoongi over his shoulder, shuffling around in pyjamas similar to Jimin’s.

“I’m gonna tell him tonight, they only called this morning.” You smile, waving at the newest member of your small friendship circle. “What’s with all the boxes?”

At this his face drops into something guilty, he turns away from you to boil the kettle and make everybody a drink, “Uh-, Y/N…”

“What?”

“Come on let’s sit down.”

And so you do, choosing to settle on the arm chair with your freshly made herbal tea as the couple take the small sofa along the next wall. Yoongi and Jimin, or yoonmin as you’ve affectionately labelled them, are the epitome of the perfect couple. They’re great together, in the time you’ve known them as a unit you’ve learned that their personalities couldn’t be more different even if they tried. Where Jimin is loud, sometimes overbearing and outgoing Yoongi is more reserved, introverted but his one-liner jokes always have a way of catching you off guard.

“What’s going on?” You quirk a brow, heart melting when your gaze finds Yoongi soothingly rubbing small patterns on Jimin’s thigh.

“The tenancy agreement on this place runs out next month,” Jimin sighs, “So… I’m gonna move in with Yoongi, but don’t worry we’ve spoken about it and—”

“And you can move in with me too, I live in Jungkook’s building… My apartment isn’t as big or luxurious as his but I have a guest bedroom that—”

“That we can decorate and make it yours, nothing has to change I still want us to live together—”

“We want you to live with us.” Yoongi corrects his boyfriend with a content nod and gummy smile, his newly bleached silver hair falling into his eyes.

“Guys…” You’re laughing breathily, taken aback by their gesture bless their sweet souls, “Thank you, really thank you so much but… I mean I practically live at Jungkook’s anyway, I can always talk to him and see if he’s ready to take the next step in our relationship and… Yknow… If not I can go back to my parents’ house it’s no big deal.” You nervously chew your lower lip, you want to live with Jungkook, hell in a way it feels like you already do, but you don’t know if he feels the same way.

“No really you can live with us Y/N, don’t feel like you have to ask anybody else.” Yoongi guzzles the rest of his morning coffee, promptly standing from the sofa, “Anyway I’ve gotta go get changed and get to work, I’ll see you both soon.”

“I mean it Y/N you can live with us, I’ve already picked out the colour scheme of your new bedroom.” Jimin beams like a proud dad, winning you to kick your head back with a laugh.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who does that?”

“Well you’ve had a really traumatic six months… I thought I could lighten your burden.” He justifies with a mocking nod, hand clutching his heart.

“Ah, well thank you so much.”

“How are you doing now?”

“You mean since I saw you yesterday?” You giggle, “I’m fine.”

“No but really… How are you doing? Have you heard anything from uh-, Ruth?” He almost looks guilty when her name leaves his lips, though he has no reason to feel that way. It’s not like he was the one who betrayed you.

“My parents have been visiting her… She’s not well, but I haven’t spoken to her myself since she was arrested.”

“Are you going to speak to her?” Jimin’s question catches you off-guard, you almost drop your drink as you mull over what he’s asking of you. Do you want to see her? To speak to her? After everything she’s done?

You shake your head slowly, “Probably not, I hope she gets all the help she needs but to be frank with you I don’t want to be a part of her life anymore.”

“Understandable. So tell me more about this documentary!”

The rest of your morning is filled with Jimin trying to convince you to live with him and his partner, to which you do begin to consider it – maybe living with them would be the best thing. You’ll still be close to Jungkook, a lot closer than if you moved back into your family home, and you wouldn’t have to put a strain on your relationship by asking to move in either. It’s after a food delivery and endless conversations about the future with your bestie that you decide to head back to Kook’s apartment; excited to tell him about your new opportunity.

Back at the penthouse you’re busying yourself by hanging up Jungkook’s dry cleaning in his walk-in closet, it’s a little after six pm when the elevator chimes signalling his arrival. He looks fucking delicious today, as always, wearing grey and black checked trousers with a black shirt tucked into them, the first few buttons undone exposing his tanned skin. His hair is pushed back away from his face, flaunting his thick brows and chiselled features that soften upon seeing you when he steps inside the bedroom.

“You look…amazing baby,” His stare hungrily drags itself up the way the champagne coloured dress hugs your curves, “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” You shrug, smiling when he makes his way over, “How was work?”

“Ah yknow, bit of this a bit of that… Same shit different day.” He chuckles, his expensive cologne flooding your senses when he stands behind your frame, snaking his strong arms around your waist, “Is this new? Don’t think I’ve seen you wear it before, and I’m sure I would’ve remembered...” He squeezes the material of your dress, peppering your neck with dainty kisses.

“Mhm, my boyfriend bought me it last week actually.” You hum amused, trying to ignore the way your stomach knots with each of his little touches as you hang up the last of his suit jackets.

“Ahh, now I remember. He has good taste.”

“Well I guess there is kind of an occasion,” You loll your head to one side, granting him further access to your sensitive skin, his dark bangs tickle the flesh of your earlobe, “I’ve been asked to help the BBC with a documentary they’re doing on cyber crimes against women.”

“What?” He pulls his head back, spinning you in place until the swell of your breasts are flush with his toned chest, “That’s… Y/N that’s incredible, are you gonna do it?” His eyes are trained to yours, his smile genuine and brightening up the otherwise dark room.

To this you lift your shoulders, “Maybe? I mean I want to, it’s a topic not enough people talk about. I have a meeting with them next week to discuss it properly.” His hands find purchase on your waist, gripping you tightly.

“Well whatever you decide to do you have my full support, I know things have been rough for you and if this is a way for you to get closure and take control of the situation then I’m all for it.”

You hadn’t even thought about it like that, maybe sharing your story and what you went through with the video leak will be good for you, therapeutic even. Maybe it will give you closure, discussing your emotions and shining a light on the repercussions of revenge porn. You bring your arms to his broad shoulders, lightly grazing your manicured fingertips on the nape of his neck, winning a content sigh to fall from your boyfriends lips.

“You know I could get used to this.” He rests his forehead against yours with a breathy chuckle.

“Don’t destroy this one and I’ll wear it more often then.” You giggle, pressing your lips to his in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mm, you know that I’m not talking about the dress,” He hums against you, your teeth almost clink together because of how much you’re both smiling, “I meant you being here when I get back from work.”

“I’m pretty much always here now.” You kiss him again, this time swiping your tongue over his lips earning yourself another sigh. He walks you backwards out of the closet until your knees hit the foot of his bed, his mouth never leaving yours when the kiss deepens into something more…desperate.

“I’m just saying,” You can feel how hard he’s already getting against your abdomen, his voice is husky and deep with seduction, yet quiet against your lips, “Maybe you should bring more things here, I like that you’re here a lot.”

“A little too much apparently.” You snake a hand down to cup his length, he hisses before shaking his head in disbelief with a smile.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“Mhm, I get that quite often.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should learn how to behave then.” Your back hits the mattress with a small ‘oomf’ from your end when he pushes you onto the bed, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his muscular arms.

“Maybe.” You repeat with a smirk, hands gliding to his shirt buttons where you get to work in undoing them, “But maybe you secretly like that I’m such a brat.”

“It’s not much of a secret at this point now, is it?” He smashes his lips to yours in a series of lewd frenzied kisses that has you weak at the knees embarrassingly fast. You quickly rid him of his shirt, fingernails tracing the intricate patterns of his body art.

A small whine escapes you when he holds your hands above your head with one of his, pinning you in place. His other gets to work on hiking your dress up until the material pools your middle, exposing the pretty purple lacey thong you decided to wear today. He licks the shell of your ear before taking it between his teeth.

“Jungkook…” You breathe, desperate to feel more of him.

“Sometimes I forget how sensitive you are...” He murmurs, repeating his previous action until your hips are buckling up into his in search of friction. Thankfully he recognises your neediness and two inked fingers find their way to the waistband of your underwear, playfully twanging it, you can feel him smirking against your neck.

“Please…” You whimper, hands struggling against his hold.

He pulls back to sit on his knees, searching for the zipper of your dress. Your hands are finally free but you freeze, body tensing up as you stop him. You haven’t been completely naked in front of him, sober, in a very long time. Every time you’d been intimate with him you’d found a way to keep your lingerie on, or wore something with easy access that didn’t need removing completely. You still feel insecure about your body ever since it was publicly exposed.

“No-, stop.” You prop yourself up on your elbows, Jungkook stops in his tracks immediately with big brown doe eyes zoned in on your face.

“Are you okay?” He’s worried, but you’re distracted by the way his muscles flex under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

“Yeah yeah,” You nod quickly to reassure him, “Just leave the dress on please.”

“Y/N…” His brows are knitted together in confusion, “Why?”

At this you sigh, somewhat under pressure, “I just don’t feel-, please?”

“Baby…” His voice is low and quiet, he’s gripping your thighs gently, “You’re perfect, you know that right? So fucking perfect.” He lowers his mouth to your open thighs, gently sucking the flesh between a series of licks and kisses, winning a soft moan from you. “I love you so much baby…”

“I love you too.”

“Do you trust me?” His breath is warm against your skin as he slowly makes his way up to your underwear.

“You know I do.” You whisper, lying flat on your back against the bed sheets.

“Then please… Don’t cover up this beautiful body of yours…” He takes your lingerie between his teeth, playfully pulling it back. A groan erupts from your chest when he licks at your barely clothed clit, his hooded eyes are glued to yours, “I wanna see all of you, I wanna feel all of you… You’re perfect, so fucking perfect.”

“Please touch me Jungkook…”

You’re twisting the sheets beneath you when he hooks his fingers into your panties, dragging them down your legs painfully slow before you’re kicking them off the bed. He’s taking his time with you tonight, littering your folds with small kisses before finally he takes your clit between his lips and sucks gently.

“Fuck,” You throw your head back, body feeling ten million times hotter than it did when he first got back.

“You like that baby?” He hums, proud, flattening his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves where he traces small, familiar patterns – the same patterns he always does, making you come undone every time without fail, “You like it when I eat you out like this?”

“Mmm, yeah I do…” You push your core up to meet his mouth, his tongue massages your clit rhythmically.

He shifts on the bed, laying flat on his toned stomach as he continues to lap up your growing arousal. You’re growing wetter and wetter by the minute, the lewd noises of his mouth against you fill the otherwise quiet atmosphere and heat spreads your abdomen.

“Keep going.” You mewl.

“Take your dress off for me baby,” Jungkook’s stare is fuelled by nothing other than lust, “Please, you don’t need to hide from me Y/N.”

Lazily your fingers find the zipper and soon you’re pulling the champagne silk off your figure, exposing your matching purple bra which is sheer enough to see your nipples through it. You’re too turned on to feel insecure, Jungkook groans at the sight of your exposed body, burying his face between your folds with a new found determination.

“And your bra.” He mumbles.

Within minutes you’re completely naked and spread wide for your boyfriend, he’s eating you out so passionately and so messily that you’re already close to seeing stars. You yell something that sounds like his name when his arms reach up to your bare breasts, thumbing and rubbing your nipples, his touch featherlight but has you a writhing mess within minutes.

“You taste so fucking good baby.” He moans. The sound vibrates against you until it reaches your insides, adding to your growing orgasm while he speeds up his ministrations.

“Jungkook, fuck-“ You’re a panting mess, rolling your hips against his face. You peer down at him, it’s like he’s hypnotised by your pussy, suckling it so hard and perfectly in sync with the way he’s pinching your nipples. After a few particularly harsh licks and flicks of his tongue you welcome the white hot heat that threatens to spill, fingertips flying to his raven locks where you pull him impossibly closer, “There, oh my g-, right there, don’t stop! I’m gonna! Don’t stop!”

And he doesn’t, keeping the pace even until you’re empty hole is convulsing, pulsating as you cream all over his mouth and chin with a deafeningly loud moan. As always he helps you ride out your high, slowing his movements when he laps up every last drop of your come while you try and steady your heaving breaths.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, I love watching you come for me...” He exhales, gaze lost in yours. The way he looks at you as he crawls on top of your frame should be illegal, a shaky sigh leaves your lips when his come down to meet them, swallowing your pleas to be fucked. Your arousal lingers on his tongue, the taste swirls against yours and floods your senses.

“Please fuck me, please…please…” You whine.

He falls weak to you begs, quickly ridding himself of his checked pants and boxers, roughly gripping the bend of your waist, “Turn over.” He orders, voice low and dangerous.

You obey, rolling onto your front until your breasts mould against the mattress. Jungkook spreads your legs with his knees before lowering his body onto yours, holding his weight with his arms. He’s kissing your back, his multitalented tongue darting out with kittenish licks on your bare skin.

“Jungkook please.” You whine into the pillow, turning your face to the side.

“What do you want baby? Tell me.” His voice is merely a whisper.

“I want you to fuck me…” You gnaw your lower lip with desperation growing between your already shaky legs.

At this he lines himself up with your entrance, teasingly brushing his length between your sopping folds winning you both to groan in anticipation. There’s a ringing in your ears similar to white noise when he finally, agonisingly slowly, pushes every rock hard inch of himself into your core from behind.

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he rocks his hips into you, his pelvis pressing hard against the fat of your ass cheeks with each movement. He feels so big from this position, filling you up in the most devilishly good way possible. You push your ass up as much as you can, until his shaft brushes against your sensitive and spongey g-spot with every thrust.

“Jungkook.” You mouth falls into a silent ‘o’, eyes scrunched from pleasure.

“You’re amazing,” He breaths against your neck between lewd kisses against your skin, “You’re fucking amazing Y/N.”

You’re panting a chorus of ‘please’ ‘fuck’ ‘yes’ ‘Jungkook’ in sync with each time he fills you up to the brim, the crown of his cock pressing against your cervix hard enough to bruise.

“I love you so much… Fuck, I love you princess.” The new pet name whispered between soft groans sends a pang of heat to your abdomen, your second orgasm already approaching, “Touch yourself for me, rub that perfect little clit.”

Snaking a hand down the bed you find the sweet spot with ease and begin to do as he says, tracing small circles over the area in time with the deep yet slow rolls of his hips.

“That’s it, fuck-,” A guttural moan rips from his throat at the way your walls squelch and tighten around him, he knows you’re close, he can tell by your wayward breathing and the way you’re writhing under his weight, “You feel so good, I could fuck you like this forever.”

“Faster, go faster please…” You beg shamelessly.

At this he shakes his head, his damp hair tickling your shoulder, “Nice and slow baby… Nice and slow.”

Pained moans leap from your chest that’s heaving against the bed linen, he’s never been this gentle and passionate with you. The way he’s fucking into you sensually, holding himself in place with one arm as the other comes down to explore your curves, his fingertips grazing every spot on one side of your body until his palm finds purchase on your hip, fingernails digging into your skin when he grips you, pulling your bodies even closer.

“So close…” You warn him with a strangled whimper, speeding up the way your own hand rubs your throbbing clit.

“Go on, give me another one,” He’s equally as breathless as you when he takes the flesh of your neck between his teeth, “Come for me, your pussies already so wet—”

He’s cut off by his own throaty moan, the sound so deep it’s borderline a growl when your second orgasm hits, your hole clenching his thick length so sinfully that you’re nothing more than a blubbering mess beneath him, totally and completely fucked out. Both hands fly to the pillow that you’re squeezing and twisting in your grip, body jolting and shaking as you ride out the wave of euphoria.

“You’re so tight, ah-,” He hisses, kissing your temple.

“Kook…” You’re in a post-bliss daze, barely able to catch your breath. Your mind is blank, unable to concentrate on anything other than the sensations and sounds of Jungkook slowly splitting open your slippery walls. “Oh my god-“

It’s not long before his own orgasm approaches, his grunts turn into whines and his thrusts become messy, he never speeds up though, not once. He rocks his cock in and out of you at a leisurely pace until he’s chanting your name under ragged breaths. You peek back at him for a moment, the sight alone makes you gasp. His eyes are squeezed shut, kiss-swollen lips ajar, messy sweat-stained hair covers forehead and thick brows.

“You’re gonna make me come baby…” His hooded eyes flutter open for a second, his gaze locked onto yours before he buries his head into your shoulder with a loud, gravelly groan, spilling his hot seed into you.

Jungkook stills for a few minutes before rolling off, laying next to you with a glistening chest and worn-out smile, “You’re something else.” He chuckles, playfully spanking your ass. You can’t move, you’re still laid flat on your stomach untrusting of your wobbly limbs to hold your weight in any other position.

“I didn’t do anything.” You hum with a tired grin, “It was that dress.”

“I can assure you, you look much better without it.”

“Hmm.” You bury your face into the pillow, somewhat embarrassed.

“I’m serious,” He starts, lazily draping his arm round your middle, “You’re perfect, this body…”

“Jungkook, stop it.” You’re laughing when he shifts his position, choosing the straddle your hips with his palms massaging your shoulders. You melt under his touch, feeling the epitome of relaxed when he begins to work a particular knot between your shoulder blades with his thumbs.

“That laugh,” He sighs lovingly, “Your smile, your eyes… You’re perfect.”

“Mmm.” You neither agree nor disagree, instead choosing to enjoy this impromptu massage from your boyfriend.

“Y/N...”

“Mmm?” You glance back at him, to which he flashes you a coy boy-ish smile.

“Move in with me.”

“What?” This gets your attention, your limbs are heavy and weak but you manage to roll onto your back, blushing at how Kook is now straddling your front as opposed to your back.

“I’m serious, I want us to live together...”

You’re grinning up at him with hopeful eyes, “Really? You think we’re ready for that?”

“Definitely.” He nods with a smile brighter than ten thousand suns, folding his body until your lips meet again in a heartfelt, blissful kiss.

The week flies by, your meeting with the BBC goes better than you had hoped. The main producer Linda, the woman who called you, loved your ideas and is eager to share your story with the world and has given you full creative control in how you want it to be portrayed. You’ve signed a contract with them, it’s officially happening, amongst other exciting opportunities.

“A TV appearance?” Jungkook repeats.

“Mhm, once we’re done filming… To promote the documentary.”

You’re sitting on his lap, being careful not to shift around on top of him too much and save him from an awkward encounter since you’re not alone. It’s pizza night, Taehyung has joined you both for the evening at yours and Jungkook’s now shared apartment but doesn’t seem to mind the obvious semi-public display of affection.

“What’re your plans after the documentary? Like, what are you going to do with it?” Taehyung asks, taking a chomp out of his Hawaiian pizza. Everybody is dressed casually tonight, the three of you in sweats and hoodies while you enjoy some down time together.

“Glad you asked,” You snap your fingers and point to him, rolling your eyes with a smile at Kook who can’t seem to end the string of cheese coming from his own pizza no matter how hard he tries, “I’m finally gonna put my degree to use, I want to start a company that helps women in similar situations to mine… Pay for their legal help when they can’t afford it, provide them with the right resources to get them justice, offer counselling and so on.”

“Like a charity?” Tae raises his brows, seemingly impressed.

You nod, breaking the melted cheese away from Jungkook’s slice for him with your fingers, “Yeah, yknow I never knew what I wanted to do with my degree up until now, I’ve already got a few investors interested in funding the first year.”

“By investors do you mean Guk?”

“Nah,” Jungkook chuckles though he looks vaguely defeated, “She wants to do this on her own, I’ve tried telling her I’ll provide any funding she needs but—”

“But I want the entire thing to be founded by, funded by, and ran by women. Female attorneys, female counsellors, female staff.” You say proudly.

“Isn’t that a little sexist?” Taehyung clicks his tongue but you can’t help but notice he’s impressed by your ambition, his feline eyes wide and glistening when he smiles.

You offer him a small shrug, “I don’t think it is, I just want to give victims of cybercrime and revenge porn a safe space to talk about it and statistically most victims are women. Besides there’s plenty of companies out there that are run by only men.”

“Touché.”

“I’m telling you now,” Jungkook’s palm finds the small of your back, “You’ve got this, I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”

Your hand gently grips his chin and you angle his face towards yours, planting a chaste kiss to his lips which he reciprocates, “Thank you.”

“Any time.” He mumbles against your mouth with a grin, stealing another kiss.

“Guys c’mon I’m right here.” Taehyung complains, averting his eyes away from the scene, “Just because you live here now doesn’t mean I wanna see it every time I come over.”

Jungkook pulls away, facing his best friend with a smirk, “Sorry.”

Your phone vibrates inside your pocket, earning you to jump up from Kook’s lap much to his disappointment, “Hang on,” You hold up a single digit, “It’s my mum I’ll be right back.” You saunter out the room, closing the master bedroom door behind you.

“Hello?”

“Hi Y/N it’s just me…” Your mum’s voice is soft as she announces herself, despite the fact you knew full well it was her calling from her contact name and display picture.

“Everything okay?” You sit on the bed.

There’s a brief pause on the line, “It’s your sister…”

“Mum.” You cut her off sternly, she knows full well you want nothing to do with her after everything she’s done, “I told you I don’t want to know.”

“I know, I know,” Her voice is laced with guilt, “But she wanted me to pass on a message and I said that I would.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose vaguely irritated, “What’s the message?”

“She wants you to go and visit her.”

You bite back a scoff, “Why?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“The answer is no.” You say with confidence, “I’m sorry mum, but I can’t. I don’t want her in my life after what she did. I’m not going.”

At this your mother sighs, you feel her pain of course you do, Ruth is her first born child and she will always love her no matter what she’s done and you don’t hate her for that. After all there’s nothing stronger than a maternal bond, “Okay, I’ll let her know... But since you’re not going to see her yourself there’s something you should know...”

“What?” You mumble, attempting to ignore the hurt in her voice.

“Ruth... She’s pregnant.”

902 notes · View notes

trlvsn · 8 months

Note

Please I would love to hear more umineko thoughts from you

oh my god you should NOT have asked. i'm on episode eight but i have so many. do NOT read this if you haven't read umineko, you HAVE to go through the experience completely unspoiled. tw: incest, christianity, death, but none in a positive light

my most recent thoughts have been provoked by the riddles in episode 8 and how kyrie and rudolf had just told eva they do not fault her for any harm she caused ange. it strikes you as odd at first, because they would never say that, but then you realize two things: this is very similar to the golden land and this is battler's chessboard. battler already knows about sayo and what she wanted from his as beatrice, what she wanted from everyone as beatrice: recognition. she is a girl who used to follow god's tests so blindly and has sinned so badly. she wants people to see her innocence, know of the sins that harmed her, forgive the sins that she caused herself. that is, at the end of the day, what everyone wants, and battler is treating everyone like it, in honor of beatrice. this is a very difficult topic for me to see in media. the idea that every person, no matter how horrible their actions and nature, has a heart and wants forgiveness, is something i can't accept because i, too, am human. what would i be if i forgave and understood everyone? what would i be without hate and revenge and a personal view on things? if i accepted everyone's truths, there would be nothing of myself left. but the idea is true, and i have to know it deep down, tame it carefully.

my thoughts overall, though? i could never put them in one single post. this novel is amazing in many ways - it's a love letter to an entire library of books, it's a love letter to love, but there is also no good love in this story. there is fake love, true love, great love, but there is no love that is good, normal, because the ushiromiya family didn't have it in the first place. kinzo built this family on blood-stained gold and adultery. this family is like a locked room itself in many ways (god, they even represent it with the incest), and nothing good ever happens in a locked room. while i haven't yet reached the end of episode 8, i hope they all die. i hope ange never really survived the fall from the building, actually. i hope it ends, i hope the room exploded and there is nothing left of the ushiromiya family now, not of the gold, not of the love, not of the anything. it probably won't be like that, though. bern promised there wouldn't be a happy ending.

sayo's story is the greatest story i have ever seen a character have, no joke. "greatest" as in enormous in it's tragedy and richness, an endless universe collapsing in on itself because it can't, of course, exist with just one person. of course she did everything wrong, nothing right has ever been in her nature.

i also loved the biblical symbolism, of course. how could i not. the figure of god specifically is something so subtle i almost missed it, but at the end of the day, three girls share that imaginary friend - sayo, maria and dlanor. for all three, it's their father/authority figure/commander in different ways. sayo ends up burning kinzo again and again, commiting rightful patricide, and also essentially rebels against god by giving up on his test and befriending demons. it's a nice touch. i have my own issues with the demon summoning (i dabbled in the occult long before playing umineko) but it's just a technicality.

anyways, serious stuff aside - loved the toxic yuri, loved the fuckedupedness of it all, loved the fact that the narrators are NEVER reliable and you shouldn't listen to the game, like, at all, but also you should. i was frequently theorizing about the origins of beatrice during my playthrough and talked to my friend about it, who had already finished umineko long ago. at a point of episode... 6? 5? i basically said "fuck this, i'm not even going to try. shannon is beatrice, shannon is part of beatrice, kannon is beatrice, fucking everyone is beatrice. i give up" and it was really hard for him to, like, be normal. thank you [REDACTED] for not spoiling anything. i am on my way to finish episode 8 and obsess about the music forever.

#umineko #umineko spoilers #umineko naku koro ni #umineko when they cry #wtc #when they cry #beatrice the golden witch #beatrice umineko #shannon #sayo yasuda #kinzo ushiromiya #maria ushiromiya

41 notes · View notes

sweetberrylover · 3 months

Note

Can you tell me what was in the Valentine's day story

OH brother I knew someone was going to make this question

Obvious spoilers for the new Plastic man Valentine story from “How To Lose A Guy Gardner In 10 Days”

Basically most people are mad at how bad the characterization of plas is in that story that basically treated him as shallow doofus that EVERYONE hates for no good reason that has to learn a big lesson at the end of the story

So like imagine Joe Kelly levels of bad writing but atleast in this one they didn’t make him a pervert THANK GOD ( although they still make him kind of a horndog and there is a part in particular where he ask Wonder Women out and it’s cringy to say the least )

Also the design they gave him is just… mh not great

( Here’s examples of what I’m talking about so yk I’m just making this up )

It really sucks not only because of how all the waiting we did just for it not be good but also because there really was something you could have done with this concept that would actually be good with Plas

Plastic man is a character that does infact has a history of bad luck in romance mostly because back in the Golden age he seemed pretty uninterested and even scared of woman and in the modern age any love interest he has had is a cardboard girl that’s only exists to give him children or to cause conflict ( in summary most of his love interests are non-existence or straight up abusive/toxic)

Having a story explore his bad luck with romance or a story exploring him dealing with a bad relationship would be very interesting and great development but unfortunately that’s not what happened here. Everybody mistreats him for little to no reason, they paint him as shallow womanizer and throughout the story he hits on a women who turn him down multiple times and also he thinks she’s is married for most of it which obviously paints him in such a bad light

For some odd reason not only does everyone around Plas treat him like trash ( Batman starting to date Plastic mans girlfriend after she basically cheats on Plas all the time and Wonder Woman not knowing who he even is EVEN THOUGH PLAS HAS BEEN IN THE JL FOR A LONG WHILE ) and somehow that’s his fault but also the writers forget the two big things about him is 1 his supposed to be heroic and 2 his supposed to actually be a character and not just a gag joke

Im summary it’s just not that interesting or good. It’s not offensively bad as Joe Kelly or Mark Waid writing but the reason people dislike so much it’s cause we have seen this song ad dance over and over again and it’s just tiring

( forgive me for the bad English or typos this isn’t my first language and I’m also typing this in a hurry because there so much I want to say but also ik I can’t make this super long )

#to add more things to this #plas isn’t allowed to have a cast of reacorring characters #woozy chief branner Luke Edwina Pado Angel Morgan or any of his rouge basically don’t appear in canon anymore or exist solely to cause drama #now with all that in mind he’s also treated as a shag character and Plas himself hasn’t appeared in canon for a long while #pair all this and than have the little appearances he has in comics now is has a background character #a gag character or in bad stories like this ofcourse people get mad #it’s just sad to see Plas being treated as a one trick pony with no dept or something interesting going on #any ways #rant disguised as essay #plastic man #woozy winks #not art related #ask/tell me anything

17 notes · View notes

floating--goblin · 5 months

Note

Oh now I have too. Sister Imperator thoughts? I want to hear them all.

My time has come

Obviously, she is not a good person. We can all agree on that.

HOWEVER

Firstly I just love the way she's written. It would've been very easy to make her a purely "Thatcher-esque" sort of figure (in Toblerone's own words), but she's got a surprising amount of depth

The one sequence I keep rotating in my brain at full speed is in Kiss The Go-Goat because it packs so much character in like 2 minutes, right? She's watching Nihil and she looks proud, almost triumphant. Secure in the relationship. The way she holds her hand over her stomach also tells us she knew at that point that she was pregnant, and she was happy about it; and she attacks the smoking woman probably because she didn't want to risk exposing her child to that

And this was the 60s/70s, tobacco was still pretty popular/not widely condemned yet-- especially in the kind of circles she must've been running in thanks to the band. So she was being really careful

I think she was a very protective mother, we see that in the present too with how she dotes on Copia even after he's grown. And I think she might've been a little smothering, but not outright controlling or manipulative; she and Copia have a cordial relationship which I think is a result of them never being able to "officially" be a family, not because their relationship was toxic. It's just strained because fundamentally, they're strangers to one another.

But the love is there.

That's the most painful part about her story, in my opinion-- it's just full of loves never realized. You can see how attached she is to Copia, and it's clear from the way she interacts with Nihil that they never let go of one another

Hell, by the time they got together, Nihil had to have had his first three sons already, and I doubt Sister didn't know about them. It didn't put her off because they really did have a spark, Nihil just ruined it.

On that note, imagine what it would've been like had they stayed together. Would she have cared for the brothers? Would they have been a family? Makes me insane to think about

Also on that note, I'm truly fascinated by that one scene in the Summoning where Terzo shows up and Sister looks actually afraid. And this woman's done... a lot in her life, judging by her position in the Ministry and how casually she's able to have three men executed.

So I think Terzo was a little more aware of her than his brothers, I think he saw through her the way no one else did and I think that might've also played a part in the way he ended up

Because Terzo specifically being decapitated has always been an odd choice to me, but it looks like an intentional decision-- sort of making an example to him, or taking his head as a trophy like a hunter would

I actually think that's exactly why she went to that extreme, too; sure, they might've been "failures" as Papas, but they didn't need to get killed and stuffed and paraded around. No, it was all meant to send a message-- directed at Nihil specifically. Because, while he might not have been the most dedicated father, he does seem a bit affected by the execution; so maybe, somewhere deep down, he was attached to his sons

And if that were the case, then no one would know it better than Sister. She knows this man inside and out and knew where to strike. Sure, it might not have been something so severe he never recovered from it, but I think it still got the message across. Eye for an eye or something, y'know? If Copia never got to be a part of the family, then he'd at least be the last survivor.

Because they truly did not need to be killed. Copia had already been appointed as Terzo's successor, and there was no way the Clergy was gonna bring back the previous Papas, so nothing was threatening rat boy's position. Sister just had a lot of cold wrath and loose ends, and she dealt with all of that in one fell swoop

But, all these things considered, I love that her character isn't one-note. Her past's pretty tragic, but she's not been reduced to either her loving side or her calculated, ruthless one

She's obviously a very strong leader, and obviously still in love with Nihil even beyond his death, but neither of those things define her or can stop her from achieving what she really wants. Which is to get even and to get her son his birthright.

And fuck, she did that! You go grandma!!!

Okay now we're getting deep into the realm of headcanon, speculation and personal interpretation, which I realize are 100% illogical but I got brain worms

I feel like you can see traces of Sister Imperator and Nihil all over Copia's era.

The way so many love songs came out during his time, the way a lot of his songs feel like they could've been written by Nihil... I get that it's the same people writing all the songs, but like

Copia's albums, especially Impera, just feel very close in style to the two songs we have from Nihil

Respite and MOAC feel like sister tracks and when I try to explain that I sound insane but just hear me out right. Respite is like a less horny MOAC, they both have this bittersweet tone and talk about running away together

Which is weird for Respite considering the rest of the song is about fuckin Jack the Ripper! "I'll be the shadow / You'll be the light" could so easily fit Nihil and Imperator, since she guided him onto this path and remains to this day a leading force, while he was the dark face of the Ministry

also it reprises imperium at the end, and imperium's tied to kaisarion, which some people (me included) theorize represents copia

Darkness at the Heart of My Love is also an honorable mention, because it just sounds like something Nihil would've written in his youth

"Now paint a pair of eyes", while Imperator was the one to give him the white eye?? Hello??

Also Impera. Just the whole album name. Come on now

Basically I just feel like Copia, through his music, briefly reunited his parents. Symbolically at least

idk man just do me a favor and listen to these tracks and imagine it's nihil singing them. it makes sense it Clicks

I GOT THE RED STRING AND THE CORKBOARD OUT I'M CONNECTING THE DOTS

Lastly, I'm convinced that if she doesn't die soon (which I think is likely), she'd definitely bite someone's head off to keep Copia safe now that he's retired. This woman would tear Hell apart with her bare hands for her son, you can't change my mind

#the band ghost #sister imperator #sorry this took so long ugh my brain is a mess all the time #I'M STILL NEW HERE IF I FUCKED ANYTHING UP I'M SORRY

15 notes · View notes

rebeccalouisaferguson · 10 months

Text

The sci-fi thriller series Silo has wrapped its first season on Apple TV, where it debuted as the No. 1 drama in the history of streamer. And boy, do we have questions.

Based on Hugh Howey’s trilogy of dystopian novels, Silo is the story of the last 10,000 people on Earth, whose mile-deep home protects them from the toxic and deadly world outside. However, no one knows when or why the silo was built, and any who try to find out face fatal consequences. Rebecca Ferguson (Mission Impossible franchise) stars as Juliette, an engineer who seeks answers about a loved one’s murder and tumbles onto a mystery that goes far deeper than she could have ever imagined, leading her to discover that if the lies don’t kill you, the truth will.

Ahead of the season finale, Deadline was granted an all-too-brief interview with Ferguson, who addressed the show’s arrival during the pandemic and what it was like to constantly run up and down those stairs.

DEADLINE An apocalyptic drama coming out during a pandemic. Did you wonder whether people would want want to watch a drama like this because of the hell they’ve already been through?

REBECCA FERGUSON It was so odd. Obviously I see the relationship to Covid. This might sound really weird. I love shooting this show so much. It is the biggest joy in my life. Just being able to go onto set, even if we were behind masks. I didn’t even make the parallel in my head until doing interviews. And I was like, ‘oh my God. Yeah, of course.’ How claustrophobic and weird, but no, in my head I was pushing forward with our story and just so happy we were able to shoot it. I wasn’t even thinking about the pandemic. And I also think it is quite important for us actors to not make the parallel to the world of the lockdown. The world that you are watching is our true reality, right? So there shouldn’t be a shock effect or a feeling of claustrophobia. It’s our world. It’s all we have seen for the last 200 something years.

When you began this project, did you want to know, or did you feel you needed to know what was on the outside of the silo before you began shooting?

FERGUSON If you’ve read the books by Hugh Howey, who is a very intelligent human being, it’s not just one answer. It’s a grander picture that gradually unravels. So yeah, of course I knew about it. I did all the research I could and read all the books. What I found interesting was how I loved the world in the silo. I love the world of not knowing and then gradually opening up the possibility of getting out. What does that do to our psyche? Not over why we’re locked in, but more about what’s out there?

What do you think about Showrunner/EP Graham Yost’s work, adapting these books for the small screen? It seems like a behemoth task.

FERGUSON I’m in awe. It is very tricky. I was a part of the process with the script. Graham has shared this story. It wasn’t anything I wanted to go out with, but it kind of falls into the category of your question. I didn’t love the first draft of one of the episodes when they offered the role to me. So I turned it down. We had an ongoing conversation about it. And I said, ‘no, thank you. I’m gonna move on, but these are my notes.’ And then I went, but I kept on coming back to the story. I kept on asking my agents, ‘have they cast it? Who have they offered it to? And, I dunno, I was so drawn to it. Then they came back and they had done a change. They had adapted all of my thoughts. And I realized how good they were at understanding narrative from my perspective as a female actress, as the lead of the show and what I was after. But also the drama, the tension, the things that it lacked from a visual point of view that I had felt in the book. I did nothing other than basically complain [she laughs] and said,’ I’m not feeling it.’ They went back to the drawing board and presented something else. I saw within one change how quickly they could adapt something into a visual spectacle. That is so difficult when you read a book because you think, how do we process this? How do we get all of this in? Do we make this guy a woman? How do we make it equal? And I got all the answers from just asking and hearing and seeing the changes they could do, just like that. Graham is phenomenal, along with the people he works with.

I feel like you burned a ton of calories on this show because you were always running. What was that set like?

FERGUSON I am so proud of this set. Number one, it’s a family. Everyone knows each other. There’s no hierarchy. Everyone loves each other and everyone wants to come back. And we’re acting on sets that are some of the biggest I’ve ever worked on. I mean, the silo, for various reasons is not a hundred and something floors like the silo is [in the show], but it’s enough for me to get really fucking tired running up and down.

Did it feel as claustrophobic making this show?

FERGUSON To be honest, and I don’t know if I should say this, but the sets are so huge that you can’t feel claustrophobic. The studio isn’t locked. It’s not a reality. We are outside. But what I did feel a couple of times was exhaustion. We worked so hard, all of us. And I remember being on set once, and I just felt tears coming. Like, I started choking up. I was in the helmet. It was one of the last sequences, and I was tired. I was really, really tired. And the focus puller looked at me and just went, ‘do you need to go out?’ I thought, no, no, I’m fine. I need to push through. Come on, let’s do this. And he looked at me and went, ‘no, we’re not running. We’re not doing anymore. Go out.’ And I walked out, took the helmet off, and I burst out crying. I think maybe it was a lack of sunlight or something, or I was tired or emotional. I don’t know what it was. But that’s the first time I realized, actually, what it does to a lot to us. We just forget when we’re inside because we love it. We love what we do. We’re all there. And it’s so nice to have someone who has your back and looks at you and goes, ‘you need air. You need some real air right now.’ Get outside, grab a coffee and come back.

Silo has already been picked up for a second season and is currently in production in the U.K. It is produced for Apple TV+ by AMC Studios. The series is executive produced by Yost, Howey and Ferguson, alongside Morten Tyldum (Defending Jacob, The Imitation Game) who also directed the first three episodes, Nina Jack, Fred Golan, Rémi Aubuchon and Ingrid Escajeda.

#rebecca ferguson #interview #silo apple tv #silo #wool #silo spoilers

27 notes · View notes

esther-dot · 1 year

Note

I know some people are seeing jonsa in Kit's speech about his "Freudian complex" and what he seeks in a partner (which honestly same LOL 🤡🤡). But at the same time, and knowing that he did enjoy the Ygritte-Jon relationship, it seems curious to me that he's associating Dany and Ygritte with Cat who, as he said, "hated him". I don't know if I make sense?? Lol

That Freudian comment really did make me 👀

I transcribed what he said for context.

In response to a question about Jon finding room in his heart for love again:

"Uh, yea--I hope so. I hope there will be. The funny think about--I said this earlier as well. In thinking about Jon and his choice of women which is (audience laughter). I think he's like...his maternal, the only maternal figure he had was Catelyn who hated him. Treated him like--I swear a lot. I'm sorry--who treated him like crap, alright? And he tends to go for really dominant women. It's quite interesting isn't it? He goes for the really d-- (stops himself). And I think that there's some Freudian thing going on there. Um, with that in mind I think he would go for a s-- (stops himself). I think especially the Ygritte thing burned him so much that he has definite PTSD and truma about being in a relationship, so I think it would be tough. Yeah."

(from this video that @starwarsprincess1986 posted)

I find it a really odd statement considering what he’s said in the past. I can interpret it in a few ways. It could just mean he’s attracted to women who have some authority over him. But he did include hate and mistreatment in his thoughts about Cat and pairing and connecting that vie the Freudian reference to Ygritte and Dany…well, it is kinda an understandable assertion given how s7-8 went. Kit didn’t have a say in what was written but had to perform it, so where D&D may have chosen a path for commercial reasons, without it actually making sense character-wise, Kit tried to create a believable emotional interpretation. As in, Dany treated Jon pretty badly (by taking him prisoner), and he inexplicably fell in love with her. Dany treated him worse in s8 and he inexplicably remained loyal. If that’s the story given to Kit, he might think, well shit, Ygritte also took Jon prisoner, Ygritte demanded his loyalty (as did Dany), Ygritte threatened him (as did Dany), Ygritte felt betrayed by him (as did Dany), and Ygritte shot him (Tyrion and Arya tell him Dany is gonna kill him), so, he might think Jon is choosing women who have some power in the dynamic/he can’t escape (like Cat), who he admires in some way/wants something from (maternal love from Cat, info from Ygritte, dragons /armies from Dany), and then think that he gives into these women because where Cat firmly rejected him, Ygritte and Dany did soften and express interest. It’s possible he saw the power imbalance in Jon/Dany and Jon/Ygritte, the emotional abuse, and thinks it’s a pattern in which Jon was conditioned to want love from a woman he feared. I really like Cat so this is all making me very uncomfy 😬

Like you, that doesn’t fit with how I’ve heard him speak of Ygritte, but I was really caught off guard by the fact that he mentioned not only Cat’s hate but that she treated him like crap which, why is that on his mind when describing Jon’s romantic relationships? If he saw show Ygritte that way, it would shock me? But in a different part, he’s talking about how kind/good his wife is and how odd it was to have her switch from being his sweet gf to acting Ygritte…who (I think he said) would chew his face off in a scene 😂 It did seem to indicate he didn’t consider all the J/Y banter totally harmless/cute. Maybe years later he sees it as somewhat toxic? Maybe he’s been reading the books to prep for the sequel and that’s influencing him? 🤔

I don't know if he made any or all those connections, it may have been a very broad, Cat was strong-willed and Ygritte and Dany are too, meaning. The comments about Cat’s feelings and behavior could have been a little detour, but he did mention the trauma and PTSD from his time with Ygritte as well. That could have been strictly about how both Ygritte and Dany died in his arms and how Jon feels responsible for that (Kit mentioned something like that post s8), but the fact that he feels that way about Cat and brought her into the convo…it felt like an indicator that he knows the relationships were a little fucked up.

I know I always thought that craving the approval and love of Cat had kinda transferred to Sansa and that her acceptance of Jon as a Stark (telling him he was a Stark to her, offering him the Lord’s chambers, dressing him like Ned…) was probably the most healing experience of his life. Not only because she looked like Cat, but because at the time, she was the only surviving Stark, and she had never been close to him so it wasn’t a continuation from childhood, but totally unexpected acceptance. That all became messy, but it still seems more clearly delineated in the show (they even mention Sansa sitting in Cat’s seat once) then his interactions with Ygritte or Dany. I’m not sure what to think, anon, but I agree, it was a really interesting quote! I’ll try to watch the rest of the video sometime and see if there’s anything else to add context to it.

#dot chat #jon show #kit harington #anti daenerys #anti jonerys #anti ygritte #anti jongritte #< tag to filter #jonsa

67 notes · View notes

avatarmerida · 1 year

Text

Mistletoe

Disclaimer: I wrote this prior to having any real knowledge of what mistletoe actually is and then I looked it up and I think Willow might actually hate it because it turns out it’s like a parasite for trees?? Pretend they’re in the human realm into Christmastime and Flapjack is still alive and everything is fine for a little while longer, okay? Happy holidays Huntlosers

---

“I think my favorite part of human holidays is how plant focused they are,” said Willow excitedly as entered the living room before taking a seat on the ground beside Hunter, who was focused on cutting the most intricate paper snowflake possible.

“Camila said you’d like it,” said Hunter with a smile as he struggled to force the scissors through the paper he had definitely folded too many times.

“Who wouldn’t?!” Willow beamed, rummaging through her bag. “They’re all so pretty! There’s poinsettias and holly, not to mention you bring trees inside the house??” Willow added with gusto. “I’ve been doing that for years! And it’s like the main thing, I mean a holiday all about trees? Brilliant!”

“Woah that is cool,” marveled Hunter as Willow continued, looking at the snippings and twigs she had gathered. Camila had wanted to make their first human holiday season special, and apparently this time of year was nonstop holiday prep and who better than Willow to handle the plant aspect of the holiday? “What other plants do they bring inside?”

“Oh, this one has gotta be my favorite,” mused Willow, rummaging through her bag to get the sample she had found. “It’s a magical plant called mistletoe.” She said as she carefully handed it to Hunter.

“It’s magic?” He said, examining it.

“Well, human magic at least,” said Willow with a shrug.

“‘Mistletoe,’ huh?” said Hunter, thinking it resembled neither of the things it was named after. “What an odd name. How do you activate it? Do you eat it?” He asked as he went to take a nibble.

“Oh no, it’s actually highly toxic,” said Willow, taking it from his hand. “It’s supposed to be hidden high up so you don’t see it right away.”

“Oh why? What’s it supposed to do?”

“Well, apparently when you’re under it with someone you have to kiss each other.” said Willow deviously.

“Really? How interesting.” Hunter asked, intrigued. “Is it just a seasonal rule people agree to abide by or does it release magic when you’re under it that makes you want to kiss someone?”

“Hmm, I dunno let’s see,” said Willow, sitting up to kneel closer to him as she raised the plant over their heads. “Do you feel like you wanna kiss me?”

Hunter’s eyes went wide, literally having no idea how to answer that. He didn’t know how to tell Willow he was not the right person to tell if the plant was magic or not because its magical properties would be redundant if he was beneath it with her.

“I, uh-.”

“Oh wait, we probably have to hang it up properly to really see how it works. Could you put it above the entranceway?”

“Oh, yeah sure, of course.” he said quickly, rising to his feet to grab the step stool and making haste of tacking it on the archway in the living room. Willow stood beside him as they admired its placement “So now what? How do we know if it’s working?”

“Hmm maybe it’s supposed to trap you beneath it, and you can’t leave or enter the room until you kiss the person you’re trapped with,” said Willow, still trying to figure out the exact lore as she stood beside Hunter.

“Interesting,” said Hunter, taking a step back to test the theory. “It doesn’t appear to emit a force field or warning sound. How does it enforce the custom?”

“I dunno,” said Willow, sucking her teeth. “Maybe it inflicts a curse if you don’t.”

“Humans are so weird,” said Hunter fondly before he processed Willow’s words. “Wait, a curse? Like an actual curse?”

“I mean, maybe,” said Willow, adjusting her glasses. “This holiday seems very light and jolly on the surface, but then a lot of the stories Luz showed have a man watching your every move making a list of all the things you do wrong and ghosts haunting people who break customs.”

“Ghosts?” Hunter asked, trying not to panic. There certainly wasn’t room in the already crowded house for any ghosts.

“Yeah,” said Willow, still focused on the mistletoe, waiting for it to move or suddenly grow ten times its size to try and crush or attack them. “And they can like ruin your future, but it was only three ghosts so-.”

As Willow continued to think aloud, Hunter, not wanting to anger any holiday spirits, bent down and kissed her quickly on the cheek. She stopped herself and turned to look at him with wide eyes, a small smile pulling the edge of her lips as he stared back at her nervously, his face undecided about what emotion to express.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, his face turning seasonally red as she fidgeted with his hands. “I-I just didn’t want you to get haunted or cursed or anything.”

“Oh.”

“I should take this down until we know the effects and how to control them,” continued Hunter, trying to hide his stammering. “J-just in case.”

“Oh, right,” said Willow, snapping from her small daze, briefly touching the spot Hunter had kissed as the wheels in her head started turning. “Let me get the step stool for you.”

She went over to the living room and brought over the stool to place before Hunter, who hopped up. But before he could remove the mistletoe, Willow let out a small gasp that stopped Hunter in his tracks. “What?” He asked, concerned.

“I left the room and came back and now I’m standing under the mistletoe again,” she explained. “What if I re-triggered the curse?”

“Oh, do you have to kiss every time?”

“I don’t know,” said Willow, her voice adopting a concerned tone nobody else would believe. “I mean, maybe it’s fine.”

“I don’t think we should risk it,” said Hunter, leaning down and placing his hand under her chin to direct her face up so he could kiss her forehead. He was less flustered this time, more focused on keeping her safe than on any other implication the action could have. Willow was delighted.

“Oh no, but what about you?” Willow pretended to suddenly realize right before Hunter could remove the plant.

“Me?”

“I need to make sure you’re safe from bad luck,” said Willow, reaching up to pull him back down to her as she went on to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She lingered a little longer than Hunter had, probably to make sure it worked.

“Oh, uh thank you,” said Hunter, clearing his throat. “For keeping me safe from ghosts, I mean.”

“Of course,” she smiled sweetly, overjoyed at his awestruck look before he reminded himself what he was supposed to be doing as he went back up on the stool to finally remove the plant.

“Such an odd tradition, I wonder why humans keep it going.” Hunter wondered as he placed the plant back in Willow’s bag.

“I’m sure they have their reasons,” said Willow with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll investigate it further, see if it has any other magical properties.”

The Nocedas went all out for Christmas. Every wall, every window, every inch of the house had something festive to display. Camila made sure each child had something special on the tree and Hunter took the liberty of crafting everyone their own stocking (“One giant sock? By the fire? Are humans ok?” Gus had asked). But despite the lack of understanding, they were all captivated by the house’s transformation and quickly fell into the holiday spirit.

Some more than others.

Evidently, humans really did value mistletoe because suddenly Hunter couldn’t enter a room without it hanging over him. Luckily, most times he’d be with Willow and she’d happily oblige and help free him from any impending curse. Willow was always better at spotting it and very often Hunter couldn’t even see the sprig she spotted before she would pull him down to kiss him to protect him from its magic. “Mistletoe,” was all she had to say to justify it, not that Hunter required proof. Hunter admired her commitment to keeping the house and him safe from holiday ghosts.

He had a few theories about mistletoe; maybe if the ghosts’ wishes were honored, they offered some sort of protection and used the mistletoe as a way to communicate their presence. Maybe it was an invasive species trying to escape the cold the winter months brought, though he had a hard time linking this theory to ghosts. He wasn’t 100% how involved ghosts actually were. Or that it used its magical kissing ability in a misguided way to try and make this time of year more cheerful despite how awful it could get outside. He also wondered if the plant was drawn to him and Willow somehow, he could easily tie it to her abilities as a plant witch and his... own plant like features. But despite the mysterious and possibly dangerous nature of the plant, Hunter had become very fond of it to the point where he started seeking it out and it soon became an unofficial game the two played, seeing who could spot it first before they removed it so others wouldn’t risk being exposed.

Something inside him hoped the holiday season would never end.

One day they were returning home from the library, each carrying a tote full of books. They swore it was all for research, but every book Willow saw with a wolf on the cover she checked out on Hunter’s behalf, delighting in quizzing his every growing knowledge. They reached the front door and as Willow rummaged through her bag for the door key, Hunter acted as impulsive as someone who had been thinking about doing this all day could. While she was distracted, Hunter dug a piece of mistletoe they had removed for the kitchen entrance earlier in the week from his pocket and skillfully stuck it above the door.

“Oh Willow,” he said softly, his voice a mixture of nerves and giddiness. She looked up at him and when she did she was met with a gentle kiss on the side of her face, right at the corner of her mouth. A small gasp left her lips, the breath frozen in the cold air and she looked up at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed with a gentle shade of pink. Hunter’s heart flipped at the reaction, at the fact that there was a reaction. Was she impressed he had found it before her? Was it because of the cold? They were both fairly familiar with the tradition by now; why did this time feel different?

“Um, m-mistletoe,” Hunter stumbled, pointing up to explain.

“Oh. Oh,” Willow looked up, genuinely surprised. “Huh, where did that come from?”

“Yeah, ya know it’s really so weird,” Hunter chuckled nervously. “It’s so weird how it just randomly appears, randomly. Like totally at random.”

“Yeah, totally random,” said Willow, raising her eyebrow. “It’s just so odd how it’s never appeared here before.”

Hunter’s face fell. Of course she’d know more about the migration patterns and typical locations of the plant! How could possibly think he’d be able to fool her?

Was he trying to fool her or was he just looking for an excuse to…

“It was me,” Hunter confessed as though being interrogated, averting his eyes to the ground, his deception weighing too heavily on him. “I put the mistletoe there

She gave the anxious boy a small, reassuring smile. “Oh Hunter, I-.”

“I know it was wrong of me!” He went on, too ashamed to process her gentle tone. “It was risky, we don’t know what ghosts here are capable of or the rules of where they go but I guess I just...”

“Hunter, it’s okay! I-.”

“I know it’s a human custom and we shouldn’t be messing with it and we don’t understand how it keeps appearing-.”

“Hunter, I’m the one who keeps putting mistletoe everywhere,” said Willow quickly.

“What?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed with a laugh, demonstrating by making a circle to summon a piece to appear above them to accompany the one Hunter had brought. “It’s okay.”

“Wait, so… is it dangerous?” Hunter asked, becoming more confused.

“Not exactly,” Willow said, smiling. “Camila said it’s actually harmless, most humans use it for decorations. They think it makes the holidays more… romantic.”

“Sooo…” Hunter began, kicking at the snow beneath him. “W-why did you keep summoning them? For decoration?”

“I mean, half the time I didn’t even bother to summon the mistletoe, I just thought saying it was like... our code that we wanted an excuse to...” As she continued, the look on Hunter’s face made it clear that he was not aware of the code. Her confidence faltered as her eyes darted from Hunter to her bag as she continued to search for the keys. “...but I guess maybe that was just me, sorry. Uh, it’s cold, we should get inside before-.”

“So- you still wanted to…” He fumbled over the word, the thoughts still swirling in his mind as he fought the chill the newly fallen snow brought. “Even though you didn’t have to?”

Willow looked back up at him and felt at ease by the familiarity of his flushed face. Maybe it was just because it was cold. Or maybe…

“I guess I kind of like the silly tradition,” she admitted, tugging at the end of her braid. “I mean, didn’t you wonder why it only ever appeared above us?”

He did wonder that, he just really didn’t mind.

“I mean, it’s obviously a… very powerful magic,” Hunter said as eloquently as he could. “Which makes sense, if they were coming from you and you’re so powerful and talented and-um.”

“Hunter, since we’re being honest… Luz told me that there's no curses or ghosts linked to not kissing under the mistletoe.”

“Really?”

She nodded. ”It’s really just a harmless decoration. Nothing more.”

“There’s really nothing magical about it?” he said skeptically. ‘

She shook her head.

“Huh, weird,” he said, absentmindedly adjusting Willow’s scarf, assuming she was chilly from the crisp wind. “Then why do I still feel-?” He looked back up to Willow who eagerly awaited the end of his sentence but suddenly he felt frozen and he knew the cold had nothing to do with it.

“Feel like what?” she asked with a smile that suggested she already knew. The rush he’d get when they’d walk in a room together, the ease with which she’d pull him down, the warmth the contact brought.

“Like… I wanna protect you from ghosts.” He said bashfully.

“Maaaaybe it was a different kind of magic,” Willow said sweetly, stepping closer to him.

“Ha ha, I uh um m-maybe,” he chuckled nervously, standing still as Willow continued to move closer. “A-are you cold? Your glasses are fogging up, do you want to uh here-.”

“Ya know, Luz told me something else about mistletoe,” Willow said, so close to him Hunter could feel the heat of her breath on his cold face.

“O-oh really?”

“She said usually when people kiss under the mistletoe, they kiss under the mistletoe…” she trailed off and raised her eyebrows playfully to him, taking his hands in hers to see if he understood the word within the word.

“They… ki-oh,” the deep scarlet that consumed his face like a brick let Willow know he understood. He cleared his throat as his response fought to come out, but he knew the answer was more than something he could merely say. The trill of the wind was the only sound as Hunter filled his lungs with the cold air and Willow held his hands tightly as he leaned down, just as he had earlier.

She slowly closed her eyes as she went up to meet him in the middle..

He brushed the hair that had escaped her hat to the side, small flakes of snow sticking to her black locks like stars in a night sky. One hand rested on her cheek to protect her from the snow as his own closed. They bumped noses for a moment before their lips gently collided. Her soft lips dusted his chapped ones as though testing the waters Hunter immediately reciprocated, titling his head to kiss her easier. Willow wrapped his scarf around her hands to pull him closer and his hat fell to the ground but he didn’t care, there was no cold that could reach him now. The cold metal of her glass bumped his cheek, and he gently used his free hand to move them up atop her head as though it was second nature to him.

Willow took that as a sign that he didn’t mind kissing her a little bit longer, suspecting that he too now felt immune to cold as she did. They had completely abandoned their tote bags, lost to the snow that continued to cover them. When they parted, Hunter kept her close and rested his forehead down against hers. “L-like that?” he said softly, hoping she would have corrected him sooner had that not been the response she had been seeking. She simply giggled in response, burying her nose in his vast scarf and he moved his hands around her back to embrace her, the chill catching up to him as he looked up at the dangling plant.

“Y-you sure it’s not a magical plant?” Hunter asked, and Willow looked back up at him with a spirited smirk. He was utterly captivated by the stunning combination of faint moonlight and dancing snowflakes working together to highlight the gentle rose color of her face. This wasn’t a curse, that much he knew, but there had to be some greater power behind this warmth, this comforting and terrifying feeling.

And the fact that it was mutual.

“Let’s see,” she said, still holding him tightly as she made a circle and the mistletoe above them vanished from sight. His eyes remained on her, knowing the plant was gone but the feeling still remained. “Do you… feel any different?”

“I feel…” he exhaled and the cold wind captured his breath as he searched for the words. “Like this should be a tradition year round.”

#Huntlow #winter toh #toh #the owl house #willow park #hunter toh #i struggled with this so much but just let them kiss and be cute okay #im a sucker for mistletoe fics sue me #i might redo this i just got excited lol

107 notes · View notes