#I simply cannot unsee it! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xjoonchildx · 9 months ago

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kanalia | jhs x reader | final chapter: because i couldn't stay away

banner by the amazing @kth1 💕

⚜️summary: secrets and uncertainty plague a young queen in her arranged marriage to a kind but distant king. the farther she drifts from her husband, the closer she gets to one of his most trusted men.

⚜️pairing: queen!reader x royalguard!hoseok

⚜️rating: mature, 18+

⚜️genre: royal AU, historical AU, smut

⚜️warnings: infidelity (it’s complicated, y’all) mentions of pregnancy, fertility issues. OC struggles with depressive thoughts and episodes. smut warnings in effect.

⚜️word count: 10.2K

⚜️author's note: happy birthday month to my forever muse, jung hoseok. i hope that i did this poor, tortured version of you some justice. and yes, it did take me years to finish this story (😭) , but i did. thank you to every single who has ever taken an interest in this story and cared enough to stick with me through long delays and rough writing spells. once again, i have to shout out the OG @hobi-gif who lent her eyes to part of this story. i appreciate you all so much and if you enjoyed it, i would very much appreciate a reblog as well as your feedback.

thank you guys so, so much 💕

previous chapter masterlist

Love doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep loving anyway We laugh and we cry and we break And we make our mistakes And if there's a reason I'm by her side When so many have tried Then I'm willing to wait for it I'm willing to wait for it

– “Wait for It”

Hamilton, An American Musical

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

One perfect loop is followed by another. And another. And another.

You need not look back and check your work, not anymore. Now you know simply by the pull of the thread that each stitch you place is snug and uniform. You sit in your chair by the fire and repeat the motion over and over again, staring unseeing into the pattern in your lap.

“It’s a beautiful day, Your Grace.”

Hyeri’s voice taps at the edges of your consciousness, muffled as though she’s standing outside the chamber door instead of seated right beside you. You ignore it and push another loop through the fabric.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she persists, gentle. “Perfect conditions for a walk, if you feel up to it. I could even accompany you, if you wish?”

There was a time, not long ago, when Hyeri’s prodding would have set your teeth on edge. But you do not have the energy to muster any such emotion. And so you give Hyeri the same answer you’d given her the day before. And the day before that one. The same hushed words, spoken in the same decisive tone.

“I’m content to stay in today, Hyeri. Thank you.”

“Very well, Your Grace.”

She drops the matter with a quiet sigh.

It’s unlike her. The Hyeri you know would fret and fuss for as long as it took for you to relent; until you had no choice but to quit your chamber simply to enjoy a moment’s peace. The Hyeri you know would be shooing you away from the fire, prattling on about how one errant thread could catch and send your entire dress up in flames.

But the Hyeri seated beside you does none of those things.

So you sink deeper into the plush chair perched in front of the hearth and watch the flames dance. The embers at the base of the fire glow deep red, putting off a heat blistering enough to scorch your bare feet.

But you cannot feel it. You cannot feel anything.

You’ve surrendered to the weariness now; let it consume you. Allowed it to fuse itself to the very marrow of your bones. For days you’ve done little beyond sleep and spend your few waking hours seated by the fire, needle in hand.

Twice you’ve left your chamber and neither time by choice, but rather because the King had insisted on your presence at dinner. To what end you still cannot be sure seeing as you’d taken both meals in stilted, awkward silence. Apparently His Grace is far less bold without a bit of ale in him.

“The hunting party leaves in three days' time,” Hyeri says. “There’s been quite a fuss in the kitchens over it. They’re taking enough supplies to travel for months, by the looks of it.”

You make a non-committal sound under your breath. Hyeri forges on, undeterred.

“There will be a send-off in the courtyard, of course. Will you – “ she pauses to choose her words carefully. “ – Well, I assume that you’ll want to see the King off.”

You do not want to see the King off. Were it not for his pigheaded adamance that you keep up appearances for the sake of this sham marriage, you’d be content to never see him again. But you’ll not tell Hyeri that. Not when she’s made it clear where her loyalties lie and not when she still holds on to the delusion that one day you’ll decide to embrace your role as the placeholder by the King’s side.

So you say nothing at all. The fire pops as one of the logs crumbles in the hearth.

Hyeri clears her throat. “Your Grace, I only want what’s best for you. Surely you know that by now? And I don’t want people casting aspersions, which they most certainly will do if you’re not there to see the King off. The staff is already asking questions about why you’ve not been seen in days.”

“Has he asked for me?”

Hyeri blinks. “The King?”

“Yes, Hyeri,” you say slowly. “The King. Has His Grace requested my presence at this send-off ceremony?”

The color seems to drain from her soft face as she admits, “No, Your Grace. He hasn’t.”

“Then I see no point in worrying yourself over the matter.”

You return your attention to your needlework and place another yellow thread in the center of your Mugunghwa flower’s pistil. The flames crackle in perfect, undisturbed silence.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

“It’s cold out there today,” Hyeri says. “But if you bundle up tight, it’s quite pleasant in the sunshine.”

“Thank you, Hyeri,” you reply evenly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. You have no intention of leaving this chamber today and much to your relief, the King did not require your presence at his evening meal the night prior. Hyeri had ordered your dinner sent up and then proceeded to dine with you herself. An insidious voice inside your mind whispers she’s afraid to leave you alone.

You ignore it.

Instead you try to focus on your Mugunghwa flower. You study it, blinking until the riot of colors before you has clear, defined boundaries – fiery crimson at the center which slowly bleeds into a subdued pink which in turn dissipates into a milky white. You pull fresh white thread through your needle and set to work on the flower’s edges.

“Your needlework is much improved, Your Grace,” Hyeri notes. “You’ll be finished with that pattern by the end of the day, as I see it.”

You thumb over the fabric and consider her assessment. She’s right, you’ll be done with this pattern in a matter of hours. And the only thing that awaits on the other side is another pattern. And another. On and on and on.

“Perhaps when you’re done, you’ll consider mending this for me,” Hyeri says, gesturing towards her lap. “My eyesight is not what it used to be. I’m terrified of ruining the old man’s beautiful design.”

You set your embroidery down and turn to look at Hyeri, gaze falling to the opulent plum fabric in her hands. Slowly, the details sharpen into focus. The rich velvet trim. The gold threads glinting back at you in the firelight. The room begins to tilt.

“A footman found it in the woods last night,” Hyeri explains, her cadence slow and deliberate. “By the stables.”

You are keenly aware of the way she watches you in the weighty seconds that follow, one gray eyebrow lifted as she awaits a response. You do your best to appear calm despite the panic clawing its way up your throat.

You’d lost that shawl in your mad dash back to the castle. You’d been tearing through the dark, paying little heed to the branches that tugged at your dress and occasionally scraped at your hands and face. One of them had caught the shawl, but you’d been so desperate to reach the refuge of your chamber that you’d hardly noticed when it was wrenched away. You’d had, after all, your humiliation to keep you warm.

And you’d earned it, hadn’t you? With your drunkenness. With your recklessness. You’d let every one of your baser emotions take control. You’d risked every advantage of your carefully curated life just to throw yourself like a wanton at the feet of one of your husband’s closest confidantes. Like a fool.

When Lord Jung turned on his heels that night and abandoned you in the woods, he’d done far more than just rebuff your clumsy advances.

He’d finished you.

“Your Grace?” Hyeri’s curiosity is evident. “Are you alright?”

Hardly. Your mouth waters as your stomach threatens to cast up what little you’ve eaten today. One glimpse of that garment had been enough to bring a torrent of memories rushing back; vivid, awful memories that you’ve worked hard to banish to the deepest recesses of your mind. You grip the arm of your chair hard enough to make your knuckles go white.

“Your Grace?”

You don’t answer until you’re sure that you won’t retch the very moment you open your mouth. Hyeri studies you in the interminable silence, lips parted in an expression of concern. Your tongue is thick when you finally collect yourself enough to speak.

“Please do thank the footman for me, Hyeri. And I think it best to leave the more intricate needlework to you.”

Hyeri stares as you reach for your needle and thread with trembling hands, but you don’t dare look her way. You try to place a loop at the edge of your flower but the Mugunghwa’s colors have gone blurry again and you’re forced to back the needle out and start over.

Perhaps there was a time when the Mugunghwa was as vivid as a rose. With petals of rich orange-red, opaque from pistil to tip. But perhaps it was asked to weather too many storms. Too many droughts. Too many winters.

Perhaps the Mugunghwa looks the way it does today not because of how it was made, but rather what it’s had to endure.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

The first snow of the season arrives early.

You stand at your window and watch it fall, noting how quickly the fields turn from green to white. You press your fingertips to the windowpane and the cold seeps through it, chilling you instantly.

In the courtyard below, the horses are draped in heavy blankets. Stablehands scurry around them; dusting snow off their muzzles and checking their shoes. Footmen work in teams, sharing the weight of the heavy trunks they load on to waiting carts.

“I’ll wear the blue walking dress today, Hyeri. The one with the white flowers on the bodice.”

“Your Grace?” Hyeri is on her feet at once to join you at the window. “You’ll see the king off, then?”

“I’ll need the matching cape too,” you direct, brushing her question aside as you watch the newly-packed trunks take on a layer of white snow. “If the conditions are as awful as they look.”

“Yes of course,” Hyeri breathes, hurriedly whirling about the chamber behind you as she gathers your things. In a matter of minutes she has you dressed and seated, fingers twisting your hair into a plait at the base of your neck. She loops the plait and pins it into an elegant bun, fingers smoothing the hairs into place before her hands come to rest on your shoulders. She squeezes them gently.

“I’ll not ask you why you’ve changed your mind, Your Grace,” she says softly. “But I’m so glad for it. It’s important that people see you. For them, of course, but for you most of all. And besides, you look so lovely.”

You don’t feel lovely. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. And if Hyeri had pressed you as to why you’ve changed your mind, she’d not be satisfied with your answer. You’ve changed your mind because you cannot bear to cause more conflict with the King. Because you have no desire to create a scandal that you’ll somehow have to fix. You’ve changed your mind because you have no fight in you left. This is the path of least resistance.

You rise from your seat and Hyeri’s hands fall away. She clutches them to her chest, rheumy eyes soft with sadness as she watches you take your place at the window once again. Outside the snow falls harder, and you watch the footmen leave deep divots in it with their boots.

“Tell me when it’s time,” you say quietly.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You can scarcely recognize anyone in the throng of well-wishers gathered outside the castle.

They’re all bundled tight in winter coats and pelts; some wear hats and scarves. The snow doesn’t help either, and from the moment you enter the courtyard you’re grateful for your cape. Not only for the warmth of its thick lining, but for its hood, too. It affords you a bit of privacy in this otherwise very public affair.

You weave your way through the crowd and do your best not to make eye contact with anyone. Surely Boram is among those gathered with sweet Yeona in tow, here to see Lord Min off on his adventure. But you cannot bring yourself to seek her out – not when she’s already called on you twice without so much as an explanation for your disappearance. At any rate, you don’t think you could bear to look at her right now. To see the worry and concern you know you’ll find written all over her face.

So you keep your hood pulled tight and your eyes down as you set off in search of the King. And you have no trouble finding him despite your reticence to make your presence known. It’s not just that he stands a head taller than most. It’s in his stature, in his stance – in that self-assured air that seems to come naturally to those born with power. He catches sight of you as he’s speaking to a footman and pauses, gaze locking on yours.

Your legs feel heavy. Your boots sink into the snow as you approach, each step more tiring than the last. When you are finally standing before the King you bow, dipping your head as you peer at him from beneath your hood.

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, lips twitching into a cautious half-smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d come down to say goodbye.”

“And yet I have,” you respond evenly. A snowflake lands on one of his long eyelashes and you resist the urge to reach out and sweep it away. “So I do very much hope that you are pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

The King reaches for your gloved hand. He waits a heartbeat before bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your leather-clad fingers. Beneath your hood, your cheeks burn. You withdraw your hand quickly and let it fall to your side.

“Well. Then. I wish you a comfortable journey,” you say. “As well as a safe return.”

The two of you stand there for an awkward moment, the King’s expression expectant as though he’s waiting for you to say more. But you have no more to say. The words you’ve already offered him will do. They’re as empty as the vows you’d exchanged little more than a year ago.

“We ought to head out, Your Grace. We’re losing precious daylight and this weather will slow us as it is.”

The voice comes from somewhere in your periphery, but you need not see the man to know exactly who it is. Suddenly each breath you draw is painful, the frigid air pricking your lungs like a thousand tiny needles. You will yourself not to turn towards it, not to react in any way.

“You’re right.” The King acknowledges Lord Jung with a brusque nod. “Have the stablehands check over the horses one more time.”

You won’t look at him. You can’t look at him. Not when the sound of his voice reverberates through every wounded place inside of you. Not when you can close your eyes and still feel the hot trickle of embarrassment that slid down your spine that night in the woods. But then he leaves you with no other choice.

“Your Grace.”

The low timbre of Lord Jung’s greeting makes the fine hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end. You turn to him, slowly, and his dark eyes briefly connect with yours before he bends into a shallow bow. Your knees nearly give way when you return the gesture, along with a subdued, “My Lord.”

What must this man think of you now? What has he told the King? The nausea you’ve managed to stave off for days returns at once.

You startle when a gloved hand wraps around your forearm and the King beckons you to face him. You flick your eyes up to meet his and find that they – along with his countenance – have darkened. By now Lord Jung is yards away, tending to his horse as the hunting party readies to embark. Your lungs ache with each deep pull of cold air.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Not at all,” you insist, contriving a weak laugh. “I’m not accustomed to this kind of cold, is all. I’ll need to go back inside to get warm.”

The King’s brows furrow as he studies you. But you maintain your mild expression until his face relaxes and the disquiet subsides. He leans in to place a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Hyeri assures me you’ll be well taken care of in my absence.”

You lift the corners of your mouth in a gesture that you hope will pass for a smile.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Be well.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hyeri does not protest when you ask to undress upon your return to the chamber. Nor does she fuss when you climb into bed with the morning sun still high in the sky. She simply presses a soft kiss to your hair, draws the curtains tight and leaves you with a whispered rest well.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Your chamber is dark when you wake but for the soft glow of a fire.

As you come to, so does an ache in your temples, a quiet thud that pulses in time with your heartbeat. Your muscles protest as you roll onto your side to find Hyeri seated at the hearth.

She’s yet to realize that you’ve roused and so you lie there for a while, studying her. She has a strange, far-away look in her eyes as she stares into the flames, her grip tight on a book in her lap. After a few minutes she opens the book and begins to thumb through it and you watch, curious, as she pulls a worn piece of vellum from between its pages.

She unfolds the missive and reads over it, face crumpling as she fights back a sob.

“Hyeri?”

The older woman nearly jumps out of her skin when you call out to her. She hastily folds the vellum and slips it back into her book, smoothing down her dress as she stands at attention. “Your Grace,” she says, voice huskier than usual, “I hadn’t realized you were awake.”

“It’s alright,” you say absently, voice rough with sleep. You steal a look at the book left lying in Hyeri’s chair as she hurries over to bring you some water. Her countenance is that of someone who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. You stare at the glass she offers you, watching the water slosh back and forth.

Is she trembling?

“You ought to eat something,” she admonishes gently, waving a hand towards the food waiting on the table nearby. “You slept through the evening meal. I had my mind made up to wake you if you’d gone much longer, but thankfully I didn’t have to. So come,” she beckons, “Eat something. It will do you some good.”

Your stomach twinges at the mention of food. It’s been in upheaval for days now, and as such it’s been far too long since you had a proper meal. But whatever awaits in the dishes nearby smells enticing enough, so you allow Hyeri to help you out of bed. Your muscles are stiff with disuse and you grimace as you make your way to the table. Your eagle-eyed handmaid takes note.

“A long, hot bath will do you some good, too,” Hyeri remarks as you spoon lukewarm bulgogi onto your plate. You eat slowly as she busies herself with lighting the torches and stripping the linens from your bed. “I’ll have the maids bring up the water after you’ve had a chance to eat.”

You’ve only managed a few bites of the bulgogi before there’s an army of maids filing into the chamber, flitting about the room like a swarm of bees. You watch the entire affair in a daze as the maids make quick work of the tasks set before them: tidying and sweeping the chamber, draping your bed in fresh linens, filling the tub with steaming hot water. And when all the commotion is finally done, Hyeri dismisses them with strict orders not to return unless they are sent for.

You are grateful at once for the silence that immediately falls over the chamber. Even Hyeri leaves you for a while, disappearing into the antechamber to prepare your toilette. But when you glance over at her chair, Hyeri’s book is gone. Along with whatever was written on the vellum inside.

“Come now, Your Grace,” Hyeri says, at last. “I’m ready for you.”

She leads you into the bathing chamber, where the air is humid and sweet. Then she helps you out of your rumpled nightgown and holds out her hand. You accept it, leaning into her as you step over the tub’s steep rim. Slowly you ease yourself down, sucking in a breath as the heat blazes a path up your feet to your legs and thighs. The water is hot almost to the point of pain but you withstand it, sinking until it laps at your shoulders.

“I used rose oil tonight,” Hyeri says, kneeling behind you and cupping your head in her hands. “I thought you could do with a bit of pampering.”

The delicate fragrance envelopes you, carried on the curls of steam that rise just above the water. You breathe in the soft, floral scent and close your eyes; try to clear your mind. Hyeri presses her thumbs to your temples and starts making firm, soothing circles.

“I remember the very first moment I saw you,” Hyeri muses softly. “I’d been so impressed by your poise.” Her hands move to the column of your neck and she kneads at the tight muscles there, pulling the tension from them with each pass. “You were little more than a girl then, but I could still see that you were lovely, inside and out.”

Were you? You’re not sure that you would even recognize the girl that stepped out of that carriage so long ago. You’d been so idealistic – so certain of the comfortable life that you would find here. Of the affluence and status and yes, perhaps, even love that you’d enjoy once you’d ascended to the throne. But that girl had been a nitwit. The woman you are now will never entertain such foolish notions again.

“I know that so much of this has not been easy for you,” Hyeri continues, setting to work on your shoulders. “I know that there have been days when you’ve struggled to put one foot in front of the other. But you have. And that means something.”

It does mean something. It means that your mother’s great work is finally complete. She’d spent her entire life molding you into the polished, empty creature you are today. If only she could see you now; see how biddable and pathetic you’ve become. It would fill her to overflowing with joy.

“Anyhow, when you’ve lived as long as I have you realize that nothing is forever,” Hyeri says thoughtfully. “Same as what you’re going through right now, Your Grace. It won’t be forever.”

Nonsense. Hyeri cannot change the King’s heart. She cannot save you from a lifetime of awkward exchanges and forced smiles simply because she believes things can change. And she cannot will a child into your womb simply by decreeing that it should be so. The swell of emotion that surges inside you is more powerful than anything you’ve felt in days. And it’s anger.

“Hyeri, stop,” you order tersely. “No more.”

Her face falls at that, features going slack with dismay. But she heeds you, holding back whatever she’d meant to say next. Then she reaches for the soap and begins to wash your hair in silence. You chase the beads of oil that float along the surface of the water with a fingertip, cheeks hot with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to be ugly to Hyeri.

But then you’ve done many things of late that you hadn’t meant to.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“It’s alright, Your Grace. I know you meant no harm by it.” Hyeri dries her hands off and then rises to her feet, looking down at you with a kindness you do not deserve. “I’ll leave you to soak for a bit. You can have a few minutes of peace before I return.”

You’ve been unfair to her, haven’t you? The realization cuts you deep as you watch her retreat from the antechamber. She’s served you in so many ways since your arrival here: as caretaker and as advisor and as confidante. And how have you thanked her? By being cold and distant. By unleashing all the frustration and resentment you feel towards the King on her. And what of the tears you’d seen her hold back while she’d been sitting by the fire? Have you been so mired in your own anguish that you’ve neglected to see hers?

The water has begun to cool and your skin has begun to pebble by the time Hyeri returns.

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” she says upon her return, helping you out of the water. “The time got away from me. You must be freezing.”

“Only a little,” you lie, teeth chattering. Hyeri sets to drying you, throwing the damp linens on the floor to catch the rivulets of water that fall from your hair. Her dark eyes dart from your shoulders to your neck to your ears, but they do not meet yours.

“Is something wrong, Hyeri?”

“No, no. Not at all,” she answers quickly, “Just a bit tired.” Her reassurance rings hollow because she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as she bends to reach for the rose oil. When she straightens, you catch her hand with yours, stilling her.

“What were you reading tonight?”

Hyeri’s mouth opens in surprise and then quickly closes.

“I saw you sitting by the fire,” you admit. “You were reading something that looked to upset you.”

“And here I thought you were sleeping,” Hyeri grumbles, taking her hand back. She pours the oil into one palm and then warms it before pressing it to your neck, letting a long moment pass before she speaks.

“It didn’t upset me,” she explains. “Not in a sad way. Those were happy tears, I suppose.” She pours oil into your hands and begins to gently massage it into your fingers. “It was a letter from my Sanghun, back when he’d been courting me so many years ago. You might find this hard to believe, but I wasn’t always the old woman you see now. I had more than my fair share of suitors.”

It’s not hard to believe. Time has been kind to Hyeri. Her features, though soft with age, are still striking. She must have been quite fetching as a young woman.

“What made you choose Sanghun?” you ask.

“I don’t know that I had a choice in the matter at all,” she laughs as she helps you slip into a nightgown. “The moment I saw Sanghun, no other man existed for me. It was him or no one.” Her eyes go soft with a faraway look as she recounts the memory. “The other girls thought him too practical, too serious. But I saw a side of him that no one else saw. A part of him that was just for me.”

“You must miss him,” you say gently.

“Every day,” Hyeri admits. “Ten years he’s been gone and I think of him every day. Those letters remind me of what it’s like to be young and so in love that you’ll not see rhyme or reason. But –” she trails off and waves a hand as if fending off fresh tears. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

It’s unclear which of you she’s sparing from the memory. But as Hyeri begins working her comb through the lengths of your hair, you’re struck by how shortsighted you’ve been. There is suffering in never having the chance to love and be loved, certainly. But there is a different kind of suffering that comes with having that kind of love and then losing it. The thought humbles you.

Hyeri comes to stand behind you and begins working your wet hair into a loose plait.

“I’m sorry, Hyeri,” you say softly, gaze dropping to your hands. “I’m sorry that I haven’t thought to ask you about Sanghun. I haven’t been myself and I’ve just – “

Hyeri silences you with a soft hush. She secures your braid with a piece of linen and then drops to her knees to look her in the eye. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she says softly, stroking a hand down the side of your face. “Nor do you owe anyone an explanation for feeling the things you feel.”

Her warmth thaws the frozen places inside you. It causes tears to spring to your eyes. And when she takes your hand in hers, you squeeze it gently — hoping that the gesture can convey the feelings you can’t put into words.

“Now put all of that behind you,” she says, smiling through her own unshed tears. “And come sit with me for a while.”

Hyeri leads the way into the chamber and you follow, only to stop short when the hearth comes into view.

When your gaze falls on the silhouetted figure near the fire, you nearly scream. You try to scream. But fear seizes your body, inch by inch – rooting your feet to the floor and closing around your throat like a shackle. You have no choice but stand there, staring in horrified silence as the figure begins to emerge from the shadows. In the span of one frantic heartbeat, the figure has a shape. In the next, it has a face.

And in the next, it has a name.

“H-Hyeri?” you stammer, swaying on your feet as your legs threaten to give way. Your handmaid doesn’t answer and so you call out again, voice quivering. “Hyeri?”

You cannot take your eyes off the man standing before you. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, and so you stare as the firelight flickers over his stark, beautiful features. Shadows dance across his clenched jaw and knit brow. And his eyes – those dark eyes you know so well are fathomless, inscrutable – smoldering coal set in unblemished, unforgiving stone.

“Hyeri!“ you call out to her again, desperate – reluctantly tearing your gaze from the man to look for her. And when your eyes finally land on Hyeri, you find your handmaid standing near the chamber door, hands clasped together tightly. Streaks of color running up the thin skin of her neck and into her soft cheeks.

But she’s not surprised, is she? Not flummoxed in any way by finding Lord Jung lying in wait inside your private rooms. The realization comes over you slowly, wholly, until a strangle tingle runs from your scalp to the tips of your fingers. She’s arranged this, hasn’t she?

“W-What is this?” The words leave you as more air than sound, but they ring out clear enough in the silence of your chamber. Lord Jung and Hyeri exchange a long look, but neither utters a sound.

“Someone speak!” you cry, wincing at the hysteria in your voice.

Hyeri finally clears her throat, her face now fully aflame. “I believe the two of you – “ she pauses, swallowing hard. “Well, I believe the two of you have some things you need to discuss.”

Discuss? You and Lord Jung? Suddenly the panic you feel metastasizes, growing into something much darker. Has he come to admonish you, then? To punish you for your disloyalty? Has he come to lay bare every humiliating detail of that horrible night at the stables for Hyeri to hear?

“No,” you whisper. You do your best to appear composed, despite the way your knees tremble. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Hyeri. I have nothing to discuss with Lord Jung.”

“Yes, you do.” The man in question speaks for the first time, his voice little more than a low rasp. “And we will.”

“No,” you repeat your refusal, shaking your head as though the movement will help sort your jumbled thoughts. “No. You have no right to turn up here and say what I will and will not do. And where did you come from? I saw you leave. I saw you mount your horse and ride off with – “

You stop yourself before you can finish the thought, flushing fiercely at the unspoken mention of the King. Your tedious, disinterested husband would be anything but if he had any inkling of this clandestine encounter.

“I was called back to the castle,” Lord Jung explains evenly. “A palace rider came bearing a missive bidding that I return at once to address an issue at the stables. I was but an hour’s ride away at the time.” Once again, he looks to Hyeri and they exchange another one of those maddening looks.

“But there was no issue at the stables,” you deduce quietly, the pieces falling into place, one by one. “Was there, Hyeri?” Your handmaid seems to shrink beneath the weight of the accusation in your eyes.

“No, Your Grace,” she confesses weakly, “There was not.”

Oh, but your head is truly spinning now – each new revelation more disorienting than the last. How long have these two been conspiring together? What does Hyeri know about what’s transpired between you and Lord Jung? What does he know about the many private things you’ve shared with Hyeri? Both thoughts cause the bile in your stomach to rise.

“You can leave us now, Hyeri,” Lord Jung says. “Thank you.”

Leave you? Has the man lost all good sense? You open your mouth to protest, but when met with the intensity in his glittering dark eyes, words fail you. You just stand there, mouth agape, rendered mute and immobile with shock. You look over at Hyeri, who has fixed her pleading eyes to your wide ones, her expression urging you to comply. And though you cannot make sense of a single thing that you’ve witnessed tonight, you do.

“Very well, My Lord,” she says quietly. “Rest well, Your Grace. The staff rouses at dawn.”

And with that Hyeri takes her leave, the chamber door closing behind her with a heavy thud that echoes the one in your chest.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Once you are alone with Lord Jung, you realize how truly vulnerable you are.

With little more than a thin nightgown to cover you, he can see far more of you than would ever be considered proper. All it would take was one shout from the man to bring the guards running, to compromise you both to the point of expulsion. Perhaps worse.

But the situation is far weightier than that.

You’ve been vulnerable to this man from nearly the first moment you saw him. You’d been weak to his attention and charms. You’d allowed him to see you in ways that no one else has: not Chaehee, not Hyeri and certainly not the King. And the only time in your life that you’d thrown caution to the wind – and acted with abandon, not restraint – he’d mortified you. The memory of that night is a wound that’s just barely begun to heal, and now here Lord Jung stands, poised to pour salt on it.

You’ll not allow him to devastate you again.

“Go on then,” you say, lifting your chin and speaking with feigned bravado. “You’ve gone to great lengths to speak to me, so speak. I assume you’ll enlighten me as to which matter is so pressing that you felt the need to steal into my chamber and risk ruin for us both.”

“I know what I’m risking,” he growls. Then he stops to collect himself, exhaling deeply as he shoves a hand through his hair. “I know what we both stand to lose. But I could not come to you any other way.”

“Why have you come to me at all?” you demand. “You made your feelings quite clear the night of the festival, did you not?” You can no longer contain your bitterness and it drips from your every word. “You should go back to your sovereign, My Lord. Back to your King.”

Lord Jung looks stricken when you use his own words against him. There is a despair in his dark eyes that might have pained you once, but not now. Not anymore.

“You have every right to be angry with me, Your Grace,” he acknowledges. “And if you bid me to leave, then I will do so. But not without telling you the truth. You deserve to hear the truth.”

“Everything here is a lie. Perhaps you, most of all.”

He looks at you for a long moment before turning towards the hearth to gaze into the fire. Orange-red light illuminates his profile, sweeping across his smooth brow, over the elegant slope of his nose and down to his strong jaw. He is still the most beautiful – and most terrible man you’ve ever known.

“The King said he would give her up,” he says woodenly, staring into the flames. “When your marriage was announced, he swore it. And I believed him.”

Every muscle in your body pulls tight.

“I knew that he loved her. We all did. But he vowed that he would respect his father’s wishes and I’ve never known him to be a duplicitous man. I’ve never known him to say one thing and do another. And when I realized that he’d been deceiving you, deceiving us all, I – “ he stops and shakes his head at the memory. “ – I wasn’t thinking clearly. I confronted him at once and demanded that he explain himself.”

The argument in the courtyard. The memories come back to you in an instant. The way they’d both looked so irate, the way their voices would rise and then fall. Lord Jung turning his back on the King and stalking away into the dark.

The tightness in your chest is unbearable now, viselike.

“I was so damned angry,” he whispers, more to himself than to you. “Never once in my life have I imagined putting my hands on the King, but in that moment – I don’t know. I don’t know what I might have done had I not walked away. But I confronted him because I had to know why.”

He rips his gaze from the fire and turns to you, eyes flashing.

“And do you know what he told me? Do you know what he said when I asked him why he would insult you by keeping a lover? He told me that he couldn’t stay away. That he’d tried to do the honorable thing but he couldn’t stay away.”

“Why are you telling me this?” The tremor in your voice belies your pathetic attempt at composure. “If you mean to cause me pain, it’s too late. I’ve known about the King’s lover since the early days of this marriage, and I’ve accepted it. Just as I’ve accepted that I’ll never amount to more than a trinket he dusts off to show to his people.”

Lord Jung takes a step towards you, his beautiful face hard in the firelight. There’s a maelstrom behind his eyes, a polite violence that sets you to shiver.

“I’m telling you this because I need you to understand,” he says. “I want to hate him. I have tried to hate him. But I cannot. I have no position of honor to stand on. No rightful claim to virtue. I have no right to condemn the King for his sins when I have so many of my own to account for.”

“I – I don’t understand,” you say weakly.

“I have no right – “ his voice breaks, thick with emotion, “-- I have no right to denounce the King for coveting another woman.” He drags a hand down his face, distraught. “Not when I have spent every single day since you stepped out of that carriage coveting you.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“So no,” he continues, voice graveled. “I cannot bring myself to hate the King. And you were right to think me a liar. I’ve pretended that my nearness to you was benign, nothing more than an act of service. I’ve tried to make myself look honorable to you, when I have been anything but. I’ve been a liar since the moment I met you.”

You are trembling now, head to toe. Rendered speechless by Lord Jung’s confession. Slowly, the maelstrom in his eyes starts to recede. He looks as vulnerable now as you feel.

“You deserved to know the truth,” he says quietly. “If from no one else, than from me.”

There is a heavy silence in the seconds it takes you to find your voice.

“My Lord, I – “

“Don’t call me that,” he pleads. “Please. Not now. Not when I’ve come to you like this.”

“Very well, Hoseok. But you sent me away. In the woods that night, I’d asked you to – “ you stop, not wanting to say the words aloud. “What’s changed? Why are you telling me this now?”

“I have tried to leave you alone.” His voice is ragged now, anguished. “I thought if I could just put some distance between us – if I rose earlier and worked harder and retired later – that I could exhaust this need out of me. But I can’t.” Torment is etched into every line of his beautiful face. It makes you want to reach out and touch him but you resist, uncertainty keeping your hands pinned to your sides.

“I cannot war with myself any longer,” he says hoarsely. “I cannot continue to lie to you or myself. And if he is not willing to give you the things you desire, then I will.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, your neck. It gathers in your belly, too.

“So if you’re asking me why now?” he says, taking another step towards you, closing what little distance remains. “It’s because I couldn’t stay away.”

He touches you then, takes your face into one warm hand and strokes his fingers down your temple, smooths the pad of his thumb over your lips. The featherlight touch raises goosebumps all over your skin. It’s more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced with the King.

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” he murmurs.

“No,” you breathe. “I want so much more than that.”

He looks at you with such heat that the warmth in your belly goes molten. Then he presses his mouth to yours and slowly coaxes it open with gentle strokes of his tongue. He tastes of whiskey and smells of fine, heady soap and he does not relent until you are panting. Moisture gathers at the juncture of your thighs, beneath your thin nightgown.

But suddenly you are apprehensive. You’ve no idea how to kiss a man properly, much less satisfy him as a lover. And you’re not sure that you could ever live down the shame of disappointing him. When he finally pulls away to look down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, you have no choice but to confess.

“There’s something you should know, Hoseok,” you say, the sound of his given name still foreign in your mouth. “It’s just that – well, I am by no means a maiden but in some respects, I might as well be. I know almost nothing about how to please you.”

Anger flashes in his eyes, and for one terrifying moment you fear it’s for you.

“That is through no fault of your own,” he says darkly. “And if he’s been too much of a fool to see to your needs, then so be it.” He dips his head to press a kiss to your ear, then whispers, “Your pleasure will be mine and mine alone.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Hoseok spends an inordinate amount of time tending to the fire.

You sit on the edge of your bed and watch him, feverish with anticipation as he moves the weakest logs and adds fresh ones. Once he’s satisfied, once the chamber is glowing with fresh flames and warmth, he cleans his hands and comes to you.

Your heart rattles harder with each step he takes towards your bed.

When he’s finally standing at the foot of your bed, he takes off his belt. And then reaches behind his head to pull his tunic away. The sight of his bare chest is enough to make your mouth go dry. His body is lithe and sleek and strong, his muscles rippling as he puts his hands down on either side of you and lowers his mouth to yours for a kiss.

“Tonight is about you, pretty bird,” he murmurs, trailing more kisses across your cheek, down your neck. “So I want you to tell me everything you want.”

“I want to see you.” The words leave you in a rush an account of the way his mouth moves from the juncture of your neck and to the hollow of your collarbone. “All of you.”

Hoseok wastes no time in straightening to his full height to remove his breeches, and then his smallclothes. And try as you might not to stare, it cannot be helped. You’ve never been able to study a man like this. Not even the King.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he groans.

And then you are cautiously reaching for him, wrapping a hand around the length of him, marveling at the way he pulses in your palm. You run your fingertips down the skin of his shaft, awestruck by how silky and warm he is. But when your fingers reach the blunt head of him, he flinches.

“I don’t – I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Did I hurt you?

“No, no. You didn’t hurt me,” he assures you, his voice sounding a bit strangled. “I’m just sensitive there, is all.”

“Will you show me, then?” you ask, curiosity far stronger than any self-consciousness you might feel. “Show me how to touch you.”

“Of course.”

He sits down on the bed beside you, taking hold of your hand. And then you watch with a heady mix of confusion and excitement as he takes your fingers into his mouth one, by one. He finishes the unfamiliar preparation by licking a long stripe up the palm of your hand. The stroke of his tongue sends a bolt of desire racing through you.

“It’s easier like this,” he explains, guiding your hand back to his length. You take hold of him again and this time he wraps his hand around yours. He moves your hand for you, up and down the length of him, until you can feel him growing hotter and harder in your hand. You’re fascinated by it all – by how firmly he wants to be touched, by how labored his breathing becomes, by the way the muscle and sinew in his legs seem to twitch at your command.

He leans over to capture your mouth as he begins to buck into your hand in earnest. And after a while his own hand falls away, leaving you to take control of his pleasure. And what an intoxicating power he’s given you – taut muscles in his abdomen flexing with each of his strained breaths.

“That feels so good, pretty bird,” he groans, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. “Just right. Your hand feels so good around me like this.”

The wetness you’d felt between your thighs when he’d kissed you the first time returns, and each sound of pleasure he rewards you with makes you wetter and warmer. He is rock hard in your hand now, the dusky head of his manhood shiny with moisture. You watch a bead of it appear at the tip and you slide your fingertips over it, transfixed by how smooth it feels. Beside you, Hoseok shudders.

“I think that’s enough for now,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be of no use to you if you keep that up for much longer.”

You have half a mind to protest, but then his hands are sliding over the thin material of your nightgown, cupping your breasts through the gauzy fabric. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and teases it until it’s standing at attention. You sigh.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers, pulling at the nightgown.

You hesitate. Not even the King has seen you nude. Not once has he ever asked you to remove your nightgown and so for a long time, that is what you’d assumed he preferred. That is, until you’d caught him in bed with his lover.

“Look at me,” Hoseok says, sensing your anxiety. He tips your chin up until your gaze meets his own. “I’ll not ask you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to use my mouth and hands on you. On all of you.”

You inhale deeply, flustered by the way he speaks so plainly about his desires. But that’s what you want, isn’t it? What you’ve longed for all this time. And that’s what he’s promised you, isn’t it? Pleasure. Pleasure that will be his and his alone.

You draw your nightgown up to your thighs and then raise up to pull it even higher. When you’ve finally discarded it, when there is nothing left between you and Hoseok you flush, looking away.

“You have nothing to hide,” he rasps. “You’re beautiful. Believe me, pretty bird – you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Emboldened by the praise, you draw nearer to him and trace the outline of his heart-shaped mouth with one finger. And then it is your lips that find his; your tongue that moves past the seam of his lips and your teeth that find the shell of his ear. You thread your fingers in his hair, and he groans, gathering you close.

“You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve dreamed of you like this,” he says, gently laying you back on the bed. “You can’t imagine how many nights I’ve taken myself in hand to these fantasies.”

Oh, but you can imagine, can’t you? The few times you’d dared to try and seek your own pleasure, it had been him in your mind’s eye as your hand was between your legs. It had always been him.

Hoseok’s mouth leaves yours and when it finds the tip of one aching breast, you gasp.

“Do you like that?” he goads, laving your nipple with his tongue, taking it between his teeth. The pang of pleasure he incites in you is so sharp, you cry out. “Your body is so responsive,” he murmurs. “So damned responsive.”

There is only so much of that particular torture you can take, and so when his mouth finally leaves your breasts you exhale a sigh of relief. But then his mouth is on your sternum, and then your stomach, and then –

You freeze.

“I want to kiss you here,” Hoseok explains, cupping your mound with one large hand. “I promised you pleasure and this is the surest way to it. Will you let me?”

He looks up at you from the edge of the bed, his dark hair wild and his dark eyes glossy with desire, his mouth hovering over your most secret place. Your pulse skitters, heart pounding erratically at the thought of him kissing you there.

“Is it – is it proper?” you ask, chiding yourself at once for asking such a stupid question. Your face flames when Hoseok raises a brow. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought to consider the … propriety of such an act,” he says slowly. “But I know that you’ll enjoy it if you allow me to show you. And if you don’t enjoy it, I’ll stop.”

In the seconds that follow, you think about the way he’d let you take him in hand. How he’d showed you how to bring him pleasure, without reserve. How powerful you’d felt when he’d been shuddering under your touch. He’d trusted you, hadn’t he? Just as you now must trust him.

“Alright,” you whisper, nodding your assent. “I trust you.”

He grins at you then, wickedly, before lowering his mouth to your mons. And then he is kissing you there, softly, each brush of his lips moving lower and lower still. Until you feel the heat of his breath at your entrance. You tense.

“Relax for me,” he instructs, licking a long, wet stripe up the length of you. The touch sends a frisson of sensation shooting through your limbs. “Close your eyes and try to think of nothing but this.”

And then he sets his tongue to the tiny pearl at your entrance.

And at once, you see stars.

“H-Hoseok!” you gasp, your hips flying off the bed at the contact. The urge to snap your legs shut is almost as strong as the urge to push deeper into the pleasing press of his tongue. Almost.

But he pins your legs down with his arms and continues the onslaught, stroking and licking at you with his tongue, nipping at you with his teeth. You grab fistfulls of the duvet as though it might ground you somehow, keep you from bursting into flame.

And then he slides one long finger into you.

You are incoherent now, moaning and begging in broken sentences that do not make sense. But your body is responding in ways that your words cannot, hips moving in time with his mouth. Each pass of his tongue sends sharp spikes of pleasure to your core. You’d thought you’d known what this pleasure felt like, that perhaps you’d be able to reach it on your own someday, but never once had it been like this.

And then you can feel it – the coil turning inside you, the desperate ascent to the one place you’ve never been able to reach. And it’s so close, so so close – the promise of whatever awaits on the other side strong enough to sate this nameless craving that you’ve felt for so long. It’s within your reach now, if only you can just hold on.

And then it stops.

He takes his mouth and tongue away and the pleasure vanishes. “Hoseok, no,” you cry, sapped of all energy, robbed once again of the relief you so desperately seek. “Please,” you beg weakly, “please.”

But he’s at your side now, the length of his body resting against yours, his manhood hard and hot against your leg. “Come now, pretty bird,” he soothes, “I didn’t bring you this high just to let you fall.”

He presses his lips to your ear at the same time he presses his fingers back to the aching bud between your thighs. “Go on then,” he whispers. “Fly.”

He brings every sensation he’d wrought from you rushing back with his fingers. His mouth hovers at your ear, whispering his encouragement until the coil inside you snaps. He must have known that you’d not be able to contain yourself when you came apart because he covers your mouth with his own, swallowing the sobs he wrenches from you, bringing you down slowly as you come apart.

And when you finally come to your senses again, when your breathing has evened and your heart has slowed and every part of you feels liquid and languid, he smiles.

“I couldn’t risk you waking the entire castle,” he explains apologetically, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you shudder through your quiet laughter, aftershocks of sensation rippling through you. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I’ve never – never experienced anything like that.”

“That’s mine,” he murmurs, going up on one elbow. “Just as I told you it would be.”

Indeed. But what about his pleasure? The firm reminder of it remains pressed against you, the rigid length of it leaking onto your duvet. You reach for it and he draws a sharp breath through his clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you inside me,” you say softly, noting the way a muscle tics in his jaw. You wrap your hand around him and squeeze, astounded by how feverishly hot he feels. “Please.”

Hoseok nods, climbing over you and settling his hips between your thighs. He takes himself in hand and when you feel the blunt head of him at your entrance, you tense again. But he doesn’t enter you right away. Instead he looks down at you, his dark eyes brimming with emotion.

“Are you certain,” he breathes, his brow dotted with a fine sheen of sweat. “I need to hear you say it.”

You lift up to kiss him, pressing your lips to his. “Take me, Hoseok,” you whisper. “Now.”

And in one sure stroke, he’s buried to the hilt inside you.

Bodies sealed, fates sealed.

The force of his entry steals the breath from your lungs. And though you’ve been breached before, it’s never felt like this. You’re still sensitive from the pleasure he’d given you only moments before and each of his thrusts only heightens the sensation.

You cling to him as he rocks against you, closing your eyes to revel in the fullness. He buries his head in your neck and thrusts harder, the sound of his skin meeting yours just as gratifying as it is lurid. And when he reaches between you to press his fingers to your pearl once again, impossibly you feel fresh pleasure begin to bloom.

Broken phrases fall from his lips, a string of curses and blessings and everything in between. And his coarse language doesn’t scandalize you; in fact it only causes you to hurtle towards the peak faster. And then you’re flying again – flying apart, scattering into a million pieces. Crying into his mouth as your release explodes into color and tiny wisps of fire slowly drift back to the earth.

But you come back to yourself just as his rhythm has started to falter, just as the steady cant of his hips becomes so frenetic that you know his own release is near. You have only a moment to mourn the loss of his weight and his warmth before he’s on his knees before you.

You’ve never seen anything more erotic. Firelight flickers over him as he throws his head back, the cords in his neck clenching as he takes himself in hand. And then he is groaning, long and low, as his release spills on to the duvet.

Then he collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his arms, turning you both until he’s on his back and your head rests upon his chest. And then you both lie there for a while, skin to skin, watching the flames cast shadows on the stone.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

Neither one of you sleep, the threat of dawn too near to indulge in any such luxury.

“What happens now, Hoseok?”

You ask the question after he’s made love to you a second time, both of you too exhausted to move. Hoseok inhales and exhales deeply. “I don’t know. I have no control over the world outside of that chamber door, pretty bird.”

You map the lines of his chest with one finger, thoughtful.

“You told me earlier that if the King would not give me the things I desire, you would. Did you mean that?”

“I did,” Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “If it’s within my power, then I will. I will give you anything I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. “Thank you.”

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

You sit by the window and take in the afternoon sunlight, eyes drooping as you fight to stay awake.

You cannot ever remember being so tired. You sleep in fits and starts now, two or three hours at a time. And your body is too fatigued to talk up walking again, though the fresh air and exercise would do you some good. But you will walk again, soon. It won’t be long before you’re sitting with your birds and reading in the gentle Spring breeze.

Hyeri charges into the room like a bull, the tea tray in her hand clattering loudly. You narrow her eyes at her as she approaches and she fixes you with a sardonic look.“Oh, hush you,” she grumbles, setting the tray down on the table and walking over to you. “I wasn’t that loud.”

But her scowl falls away as her gaze locks on the baby at your breast, her muted eyes glowing with admiration.

“That’s a fine Prince you have there, Your Grace,” she says softly. Then she looks up at you and her scowl returns. “Though at the rate you’re going, I’ll never get to hold him, will I? You’ve an entire staff to help you with him, and still you refuse. You’re going to make that boy rotten.”

You chuckle under your breath as you stroke your hand over the tuft of downy hair at your son’s crown. He blinks up at you with his huge dark eyes, and your heart is filled to overflowing with a love that you once you thought you’d never know.

⚜️⚜️⚜️⚜️

y,all i finished it! hahah okay so listen. if you'd like to talk to me, i'd love to hear from you. please consider reblogging and dropping me an ask 💕

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #j-hope smut #j-hope x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts x reader

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chimchiri · 7 months ago

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Little bonus from the Harrow + Glasses ask

Paranoid Harrow has successfully kept her dark secret of terrible eyesight from Griddle for years. Until she ran out of contacts (or simply forgot them) in the chaos of Canaan house. Gideon cannot unsee the googly eyes.

I couldn't get a version with her face paint on which I liked - forgive me !

#Gideon is a meanie #Also Harrow's paranoia is warranted #if little Gideon would have found out she would definitely have stolen them #tlt #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #my art

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justanerddummie · 8 days ago

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You know what, after all the talk about Caitlyn tyrant arc I cannot unsee all the parallels between her and Silco.

It always left me a little baffled how Cait was one of the few character who didn't have a clear parallel with another one, yes, there's Grayson, there's Jinx and even Marcus if you will, but at least to me they never quite clicked right. But when you overlap Silco and Cait, the amount of shit they do the same is insane, especially with all the new stuff from s2.

It's not about her simply becoming a villain, it's like a circle with Caitlyn moving forward to reach the point of no return and Silco going backward after reaching the point of no return, meeting just for a moment - at the mad tea party - having different directions.

But let's start from the beginning.

We have a bunch of scenes where we see Silco tell Jinx about how he used to be different, how he had to cut out the part of him that made him soft in order to become the leader of the undercity and at the same time we get to see Caitlyn's entitled ass dissolve as her heart of gold starts making appearances, like when she refused to kill Sevika or when she gave her rifle away for Vi without batting an eye as she starts trusting Vi more and more considering how she just exchanged her only weapon for shimmer to cure Vi. Then in the other episodes they both come clean about the real reasons they are in the undercity and they start really trusting each other, two peas in a pod, just like Vander and Silco back in the day.

But then in oil and water during the rain scene when Vi leaves Cait, I think we can see the first the first seed of betrayal being planted, it's the you don't believe in me anymore, which I think can be connected to when we see Vander strangle Silco, I think that scene is supposed to go after the bridge scene in ep3 it's the aftermath of the battle with enforcers and I can totally see Silco refusing to give up on the dream of Zaun and Vander seeing no other option but to kill him in order to protect his people. I know it's a long stretch but as for Vi and Cait the rain scene is the first rift, for Silco and Vander the scene at the river is the last straw, it also ties very well with Silco being handed Zaun on a silver plate in exchange for the last piece of his heart and refusing (Cait is still not there but I think there will be something like this in s2 at the very end) just as Cait is taking the first steps into not trusting Vi.

(I'm trying to talk about how I see Caitlyn's point of view and not trying to blame Vi, I really do think that Vi had every right to make that decisions in that moment)

And then there's the mad tea party, that in no way can even be compared to the scene on the bridge in ep3 but I would still say that I think Caitlyn has processed the tea party in a similar way Silco has processed the bridge scene and what came after, the betrayal of the people they trusted the most as they watched their respective loved ones die one by the hands of the enforcers and the other by the hands of Jinx.

And as Silco's rage grew he wanted another fight with Piltover and Vander stopped him, Vi stopped Cait from taking the shot on Jinx, making that little seed of betrayal bloom and grow a little.

So by the end of s1 we see Cait is almost in Silco's starting point as he has completed his lap of the circle.

And now I dive into the more speculative section of this long-ass rant, where I'd like to put to comparison Silco's deal with Singed with Cait's alliance with Noxus. And for as much as it pains to admit it, I don't think Cait will fall for Ambessa manipulation, she's too smart, I think that she'll sacrife her morality to achieve what she's set herself up to, same way as Silco did with shimmer. The base violence for change.

I really do think that the similarities will get way stronger in s2 with the seeds of betrayal blooming by the end of s1 especially considering how both Silco and Cait's story revolve around taking control and in a certain way becoming the leaders no one asked for.

They both never wanted to be leaders as Silco was more than happy to let Vander be the face of revolution and Cait couldn't give less of a fuck about politics and spent most of the time in s1 trying to not start a war between Piltover and Zaun and wooing Zaunites women.

But at the same time both of them never shied away from the power, they both kept their heads held high in the face of people who hated them, and both were always arrogant enough to believe they could change the world single-handedly.

With that I conclude this long-ass post both wanting s2 to come faster and dreading the moment it finally comes and honestly hoping that Cait's story doesn't end the same way as Silco did. With some form of redemption arrived a little too late.

#Arcane #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #silco #jinx #Marcus #vander arcane #grayson arcane #arcane theory

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baiyubai · 1 year ago

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weilan university students!au anyone? I almost dumped this on the WIP stage but then @the-marron bribed me into finishing

the bribe is under the cut

Zhao Yunlan is barely awake this morning, which means that his awareness of anything leaves a lot to be desired. The fact that he managed to stumble into the right train with only minimal amounts of bumping into people is already far above Zhao Yunlan’s own expectations for today, so he feels excused that it took him an embarrassingly long while to notice he is being watched.

It's not exactly a new feeling, truth be told - Zhao Yunlan does attract attention, absolutely willingly and with intent, but he is fairly sure that his awake self is much more interesting than the zombie chewing on the lollipop in his mouth that he sees instead of his own reflection in the train’s window.

And yet. Someone is looking.

Subtlety is an art available only after noon in his experience, and so Zhao Yunlan looks around in a way that is as covert as he can make it - with dead stare and absolute lack of any finer thought marring his forehead, when he sees him - the Pretty One.

Zhao Yunlan has been aware of the Pretty One for a while now. He’s noticed him a few weeks ago when he was getting on the train with his eyes glued to a book in his hand. Zhao Yunlan's first thought was ‘oh, a nerd’. The second one was just ‘oh’, because the man raised his eyes to search for some space where he and his book would not be a bother, letting Zhao Yunlan see his face clearly.

And what a face it was.

Classic poets didn't know shit when they described otherworldly beauties because this guy is just perfect.

And now he is staring at Zhao Yunlan.

He is seated a bit away, by the window, staring at Yunlan rather unashamedly. Maybe he truly believes in the zombie impression and doesn't think he’s been noticed.

Maybe he is simply judging Zhao Yunlan's clothes - he is pretty sure he wore the same hoodie yesterday, and since apparently he and the Pretty One share their everyday commute to the university, he had to notice.

Well, it is the only one not stained with coffee, so the Pretty One would have to deal.

Trying to make this a bit less awkward, Zhao Yunlan looks down at the book in the guy's hand and almost jolts. Biology?

Shit. This one is smart.

Pretty, but out of Yunlan's league and most probably an asshole - all the sciency types were either assholes, or insane or both.

Well, better to check than regret, Zhao Yunlan thinks.

Even if he decides that Zhao Yunlan looks like an idiot.

***

Zhao Yunlan looks as great as usual, Shen Wei decides, feeling heat in his cheeks and his neck.

Of course, he looks his best when he is animated and talking to his friends, surrounded by people who adore him, smiling and sharing his knowledge with a smile and a joke - Shen Wei sees him often on his way back from the tutoring sessions, after Zhao Yunlan leaves his own club. He’s never managed to come closer, intimidated by Zhao Yunlan's usual circle, and besides, in the evenings Shen Wei only shares a two stations-long ride with Zhao Yunlan, because of his job.

That's why Shen Wei prefers the mornings.

The mornings are just for them - they get on the same station and leave at the one closest to the university, parting ways when the crowd of other students swallows them and carries them towards the gates.

But before that, Zhao Yunlan is more often than not just within the reach. Today, he looks tired - there are shadows underneath his eyes and his gaze seems a bit unseeing: it’s stopped on Shen Wei, but there is no light of recognition, no surprise at some random guy watching him like he is the best part of his day, and so Shen Wei allows himself to look some more.

He cannot help but feel a bit worried - is it lack of sleep? Illness? He doesn't know.

He doesn't even know what Zhao Yunlan studies really, he didn't catch that when listening to the conversations for such a short time. All he knows is the other man’s name, his route, and the fact that the mere sight of him makes Shen Wei’s heart do stupid things.

It's plenty enough.

Shen Wei should look back to his book - the discussion will most likely rest on his shoulders again and he should be better prepared for Professor Ouyang’s questions, but his eyes refuse to move.

There is something thrilling in having Zhao Yunlan's attention, as illusory as it is. Shen Wei is not fooling himself here, he knows that Yunlan is looking past him, just letting his unfocused gaze rest on something, but even so, Shen Wei is glad to have this semblance of a contact.

With his coursework loaded as it is, with the tutoring sessions and the part-time job at the museum, Shen Wei doesn't have time to make friends.

All he has is this train ride and Zhao Yunlan's handsome profile.

He wonders what would happen if they talked. He probably wouldn't like Shen Wei much, losing interest after a few sentences, realising that Shen Wei is just as boring as he looks, but maybe he would smile before that? He would offer his name, a handshake maybe?

Something changes in Zhao Yunlan's eyes suddenly, and Shen Wei looks down onto his book immediately, feeling caught.

He feels Zhao Yunlan's gaze on himself for a long time, staring at the words without comprehension, but it's better than seeing accusation or disgust in Zhao Yunlan's eyes.

For the first time in forever, Shen Wei is glad that the train reaches the destination. He packs his book and adjusts his glasses, heading straight towards the door. He will not check if Zhao Yunlan is here.

Once outside, Shen Wei breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn't know where Zhao Yunlan is, but it's fine. He can observe him again in the evening after all, even if for a short while.

“Hello there,” someone behind his back says, making Shen Wei’s heart leap like a rabbit. He knows that voice. “Want to go together?”

When Shen Wei turns, he is faced with Zhao Yunlan's bright, friendly smile, the lollipop stick still in his mouth.

“Go?” He repeats dumbly.

The answer makes Zhao Yunlan chuckle.

“To the uni. I am conducting an experiment!”

Shen Wei blinks. People are milling around them in haste and some small part of his brain insists that they should move too, or they would be late, but that part seems not to be aware that Zhao Yunlan. Is. Talking. To Shen Wei.

“Ah. What is it?” He manages heroically, not stumbling on his words even once.

Zhao Yunlan grins.

“The ‘how many eye contact until date’ experiment.”

Shen Wei’s mind comes to a very violent halt.

#I invested all of my skill points into making a white line around characters and none into backgrounds #guardian #镇魂 guardian #weilan #shen wei #zhao yunlan #fic rec #my art

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radfemsiren · 1 month ago

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I am deeply, deeply afraid of God (Allah) i just want to say... lets for a moment say it's true. Lets say if you don't believe in allah, you will go to hell and be tortured there (ik you don't believe that, just asking you for a second to humor me)

What if... i reject faith and I die. What if it's true? Then it will be too late. God then (according to the quran) 😔 will not forgive. What will I do if it turns out to be true? Can't go back then..

I'm afraid. I can't live without Allah. I reject the mysogyny and the pedophilia bc that is NOT fucking okay. But i cannot live without allah. I'm afraid of death.

I'm sorry

Thank you for sending this ask ❤️

I want to talk about Pascal’s wager, because this is a popular concept that was argued between Christians and Atheists when I first got into debate. Pascal’s wager was proposed by a Christian, and his argument was yours: It’s better to just believe in God and follow Christ’s teachings “just in case”, that way if it’s true, you go to heaven, and if not, then at worst you just wasted some time. Because if you don’t follow the faith, and risk it being true, then you go to hell. So the least risky avenue would be to follow the religion…

This is a logical fallacy: it doesn’t make sense when put to the test of rational thought. This risk to reward analysis would only work if there was one religion.

There are thousands of religions, almost all of them punish non believers. What if Christianity was right? Now you risk going to their hell by being a Muslim. What if Hinduism is correct? What if the ancient Greeks were correct, and you will now be punished by Zeus?

There is no safety in choosing a faith, almost all of them rule by fear and will punish you if you make the wrong choice out of thousands…There is only one rational conclusion : none of them are correct, and our life is simply ruled by the principles of science. When we die, we decompose, and new life is created. We are made of dying stars, and will become a dying star once again… You can find beauty in that or not, but it’s the simple truth.

There is also another logical fallacy with Pascal’s wager when it’s proposed by Muslims: intent is everything with good deeds. We know this, it’s taught repeatedly to us. If you pray wrong for years, and learn the right way, they still count because of your intention. You can’t force someone at gunpoint to be Muslim or pray because any worship done without pure intention is not a true good deed, and won’t be counted for judgement day:

You can not make yourself believe something. You either do, or don’t. It’s not a choice: you can actively work against it for years, but in your heart, you know what your true perspective is. I know the sky is blue, I can keep trying to make myself believe it’s not, but it won’t work. If you pray to Allah for years, and in the back of your mind you know he doesn’t exist, those prayers don’t count. The only unforgivable sin is being an unbeliever in Allah… that’s the one thing that Muhammad can’t argue on your behalf on judgement day. And it’s also the one thing you can’t make yourself do: once you realize how fake it all is, you can’t make yourself unsee the lie.

I hope this helps! ❤️

#asks #exmuslim #ex Muslim #anti Islam

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readingsquotes · 6 months ago

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"I’ll never be able to forget my own experience pushing my college to divest......I’ll never forget the look I got from one administrator as I entered their building. We had been camped outside for two weeks at that point, and even though the woman who saw me had no idea who I was, she knew exactly who I was. She knew my presence, our presence, meant disruption. And few things are more sacred to the neoliberal institution than avoiding disruption, even when the status quo is harmful investment in fossil fuel corporations, or genocide. And so my presence scared this administrator, and the cops were there within minutes. The feeling of being a student and having the university resort to violence rather than speak with you is immensely hard to forget.

But so too are the broader lessons I learned in student organizing. The feelings are indelible, and yet the bigger picture, the structural knowledge you receive when you go up against a large and powerful institution, stuck with me too. .... I had learned that universities didn’t quite work the way I had imagined. Growing up they had seemed to me, from a distance, to be centers of knowledge and places where life looks a little more like it’s supposed to; people pursue learning and community and aren’t as constrained by work and stress. And there’s a significant kernel of truth to that, but behind the facade is a power structure that cares infinitely more about investments and real estate than the student body. That truth has become more and more real over time, and has been violently laid bare by the boards and administrations themselves in recent weeks. ...

The impact of protest right now matters immensely. It’s impossible to quantify how important it would be if the movement for a Free Palestine in the West built enough power to force our countries to stop funding ethnic cleansing, to stop arming genocide, to stop supporting apartheid. The lives that have been lost are irreplaceable, and the lives that could be saved are invaluable. And, at the same time, we’re seeing millions of people, young and old and everything in between, change in profound ways. In that fact lies the reality that Gaza and Palestinians and this movement we’re seeing all around us are altering the future just as they work to alter the present.

One of the many driving forces changing how people across the globe think, not only about Zionism but about imperialism and society at large, is the simple fact that we cannot unsee what we have seen. ...Decades of propaganda began to fracture in recent years, and shattered in recent months. But it’s more than that – for millions of people across the world there’s also no unseeing U.S. complicity. There’s no unseeing how Israel and the U.S. are virtually alone at the UN, on the world stage, working to protect a genocidal state and enable a genocide again and again. Even as Israel kills yet another UN worker, bringing the total to 190 slain employees of the United Nations, the enabling and participation in Israel’s genocide continues.

People cannot simply forget these actions, these choices that the U.S. and Israel make day after day. I say that as a hope more than as a fact. ...And while students are not facing repression that can be compared to what the Black Panthers and others have faced, they are repeatedly facing mass violence from the state as well as vigilantes. They have also seen how little their schools care about them, how little their government cares about them, and how deeply invested our entire system is in war and imperialism.

..Students who have been attacked, and people everywhere who have seen horrors in Gaza beyond our comprehension, cannot simply forget. We’ve seen how violence abroad is connected to fascism at home. We’ve seen how Israel’s genocide in Gaza is connected to the war machine here in the United States. We’ve seen how it all comes together in a society structured to deprive the many so the few can hoard wealth and resources. Whatever comes next, there’s no turning back. We will struggle towards a better system, both because we want to see it come into existence and because we don’t have the option to return to a healthy status quo. We can’t turn back to the society we might be nostalgic for. That world doesn’t exist anymore; a new one must be built."

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #isreal #genocide #colonization #apartheid #american imperialism #us politics #police state #solidarity #gaza solidarity encampment #solidarity encampments #student protests #student activism #settler colonialism #settler violence #imperialism #us imperialism

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three--rings · 5 months ago

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So it's time for my "alt-right dudebro gamer" Dragon Age opinions.

(Note: I'm a 45 year old womanesque queer person who mostly plays indie and Japanese games.)

(To further my cred I was super excited to meet and hear Karen and Patrick Weekes talk about this game in development at Havencon a couple years ago...it's a small queer con in Austin.)

Dragon Age is my all-time favorite game series. I adored Inquisition, though DA2 has my favorite characters overall.

My opinions about the gameplay reveal are:

The environments and background graphics and effects look awesome.

The character design still bugs me quite a bit. The faces, ESPECIALLY the female faces look Disney/anime/Overwatchy in structure. The textures looks a lot better in game than in that trailer. I miss my Not Particularly Pretty Female Characters. They have sameface now.

There's something off in the lip syncing. Mouth animations looks weird. I can't define it more than that but I noticed it with multiple characters and it through me out.

Varric's hair annoys me SO MUCH. Someone pointed out he looks like Blackwall and now I CANNOT UNSEE.

The structure of the game/quests/whatever looks fine, this reminds me of all the moments running around Haven at the beginning of Inquisition. Some of my least favorite moments, but yanno.

The combat. I'm very worried about the combat.

I am 45 years old and I have arthritis in my hands from gaming and knitting. I gave up knitting to keep gaming. I cannot play some action games. Like Hades, I tried but simply couldn't continue more than an hour because of the pain. And that's with my hands in good shape these days.

Some action games I can play, but only on easy, and sometimes only if I limit my playtime. This is simply a reality I've had to get used to, but it does kill me sometimes.

Do you know how enjoyable it was to pick up Baldur's Gate 3 and be able to put it on a higher difficulty, to be able to actually struggle through combats and have to use tricks and my brain and try and fail and do it again, all without worrying about my hands? Makes me think I need to replay Origins again.

So I'm concerned. The combat in this game is focused on attack type, dodging, parrying, countering (according to bioware)....all stuff that requires quick and frequent button mashing, which is what I can't do. So I'm looking at a game that I can probably only play on easy and maybe even not then? In my favorite game series.

The question we don't really know is how different it will be from Inquisition, and I find it hard to tell from the footage since we can't see what buttons are being pressed. But I'll say that while I love it, Inquisition was the game that first hurt my hands. It made me aware of the problem and made me have to start limiting my activity.

IDK . I just hate the idea that devs have that turn based games can't do well and are inherently not exciting.

Fucking Solas motherfucking killed Bianca! That was the first time in these reveals I've been 100% reacting as a fan. NOT BIANCA!!!! HE MUST DIE!

Oh I did like the Rook in the gameplay and his face looked good. Again I feel like it's the character design and not the engine that is the problem.

As for the plot, it's interesting that Solas has gone from Main Antagonist to Opening Antagonist and I wonder if he's actually going to transition to an ally later in the game to undo whatever the fuck has gone wrong in this clip.

I do still have some worries about the writing. "She's greatest detective ever and she has a lead on Solas." So do you think that lead is the giant glowing thing in the middle of the city spitting out demons? Did you need a great detective?

And basically nothing I've seen so far has super MOVED me, as someone with serious connections to this world and the characters, other than the fucking Bianca moment. I'm hesitantly curious about some of the new companions. And if the griffon thing had come at a moment other than me going WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS? in the trailer I may have been a lot more excited.

So yeah, call me a hater or whatever. But that trailer reveal CRUSHED me emotionally. I was so depressed the rest of the day Sunday. These are my true reactions to the gameplay footage today. I don't have an agenda, other than I want the game to be good and I want it to do well and my confidence in EA and Bioware is at a very low point.

I've tried to keep a realistic mindset this whole time, but keeping in mind HOW MANY PEOPLE have left Bioware, how few OGs are left, the constant turnover in leads, the game being scrapped and redone like twice from scratch. And the game industry as a whole at this time, I have to be somewhat skeptical in general.

I'm not a skeptic overall, I was both a Cyperpunk 2077 enjoyer (but not apologist) and a Starfield defender and frankly there was a lot less reason to be skeptical of those games before release. So am I going to say "well I've been a Bioware fan since KOTOR 1 released, so I'm gonna hype it up and not point out flaws I see?" No. I'm going to be honest.

I'm not a casual Dragon Age enjoyer. I can't react casually to this stuff.

Will I play the game? Almost definitely, but am I going to wait till the release reviews? Probably.

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #da4

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whumble-beeee · 1 month ago

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Hermanitos

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 16

Content: mentioned drugging, mentioned torture, mentioned murder, begging, guns, lady whump kinda?

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[‘But what about the police?!’ you may ask in your extreme naïveté. Don’t you even worry your silly little head about those ineffective dweebs! The police may be a problem for small-time criminals and villains who fail to think past tomorrow, but luckily you have the advantage of this book on your side! Simply make sure to set aside part of your budget to pay off the police, and they’ll gladly unsee any shady dealings they may have previously seen. They’re very good at it.

What do you do if you don’t have such funds? Worry not! While this does often muddy the waters and it is advised to simply pay off prospective arrestors if possible, it is not the only way! Overall, it’s very simple and easy to have the police on your side, and an invaluable resource when you find yourself in a tough spot; You may kidnap a loved one or otherwise blackmail a person in a position of power, seduce them, or any of the other very effective tactics! (Refer to Chapter XX: Blackmailing and Manipulation for more information!)]

* * * * * * * *

For this chapter, dialogue translated from Spanish to English will be bracketed and italicized [like this] for ease of understanding.

Also, I made Officer Kalis Brooks and Officer Frida Galleta girlfriends now, instead of Kalis having a one-sided crush like I hinted in the previous chapter :D I might go back and change the previous chapter to reflect that. Eventually. Probably.

* * * * * * * *

“DECLAN CANSANO, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

The bounty hunter groaned next to Kalis, cowboy hat flown off somewhere into the aether. “Aughhh, fuck me… Fri–Frida?... What're you–...?”

Shouting, spotlight, police sirens, sounds and colors and oppressive darkness all melding into one.

Was Kalis dead?

That car must have hit her. Yes. Because otherwise that meant that the bounty hunter had saved her WHILE trying to kill her.

And that didn't make any damn sense.

She couldn’t keep track of what was going on around her anymore, the world spinning much too fast for her to comprehend, blackness crushing her in on all sides, threatening to swallow her whole as it crashed over her in tumultuous waves.

She laid her head down on the pavement with a small groan.

She'd just… sleep for a moment.

Frida was here.

Everything would be okay now…

Officer Galleta slid over the hood of the car with practiced ease, shouting and swearing like a sailor as she landed on top of the bounty hunter, literally straddling his legs while still pointing her gun at his head. He dazedly tried to shove back from her.

“I cannot believe you!” she bellowed. “Out of all the selfish, horrible, ungrateful things you've done, that has got to be one of the worst! Killing my girlfriend?! You absolutely dense motherfucker, you bitch, you–”

“Is… is that… Frida?...”

“Si Cabrón, obviously! Who else would it be?!”

“Frita-hermanitaaa~” he giggled in a daze. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

“Don’t you ‘Frita-hermanita’ me, you fuck! Take that stupid fucking bandana off, you look like you’re wearing a Halloween costume!” Her voice shook with barely kept-rage, teeth bared and eyes fiery red as she plopped down on the stomach of the bounty hunter and ripped the bandana off his face with venomous fervor. He let out an ‘oomph’ as her knee dug into the soft flesh of his stomach, along with a whiny ‘go away, leave me alone.’ Although the hunter didn’t seem particularly disturbed by it. More… pissy.

“Stop wavin’ that thing around, you’re gonna shoot someone,” the mercenary groaned. He made a half-assed attempt to grab at the gun just as the muzzle shoved into the vulnerable underside of his chin, another hand pinning him to the ground by the lapel of his shirt. He grew still.

“I should be so lucky,” Officer Galleta growled.

God, she’s so hot, Kalis oggled. Pretty pretty.

“I should shoot you right now for what you almost did,” she hissed.

“Oh calm down, you and I both know I wasn’t gonna actually kill her, ya baby. Your fuckass car definitely would have though. I saved her ass. You’re welcome.”

“Right! And now I get the honorable privilege of shoving my gun down your throat instead of watching you slit hers. So yes, thank you Declan, for your extreme altruism.”

“That’s how I roll. I’m sure your girlfriend is grateful too! You should take her out to a lovely candle-lit dinner while I finish my job and take a 20-hour nap. Now let me up.”

Officer Galleta let out a sharp laugh into the chilly night air, bouncing off the trees around them, crystal clear and all-encompassing. “You want me to just let you go? After all that?!”

He opened his mouth, only to stop short, eyes flashing briefly over to Officer Brooks’ half-conscious form. He propped himself up, wholly disregarding the gun shoving into his trachea as he leaned in closer to Frida’s rage-etched features, voice dropping to a gravelly fast mumble.

He whispered, “[Frida, what’re you even doing here? You know what will happen if my boss finds out we talked to each other.]”

“Oh that's rich–”

“[No, Frida!]” he urged. “[Look, I know you’re angry and I’m sorry I made you come all the way out here, but you know what Lana’ll do if she finds out! You’ve seen what will happen, you’ve felt–]” he reached up and gently grasped her shoulder, where Frida immediately slapped his hand away and gripped at the site defensively. “[–what will happen! And look I’m sorry for scaring you and your girlfriend, but whatever you decide to do tonight, I’m leaving with my hostage, because I’d rather not see anyone maimed again, or KILLED, by some cutesy pastel psychopath–]”

Frida shoved her gun further into his neck. “[Shut UP, Declan, I know! I’m gonna let you go, I was just… ]” She took a deep breath, barely restraining her anger. Then she didn’t. She slammed her fist down on his chest, hard.

“[GOD, FUCK YOU and your terrible life choices!]”

Declan barely flinched. His hand fell to the melted and twisting flesh that shined off his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his arm in the spotlighting headlights of the police cruiser. Eyes vacant. He sighed, letting himself look past the Frida and stare dead-eyed upward at the cloudless sky.

The stars look so pretty tonight.

So far removed from the torment of humanity…

“... Can’t say I disagree.”

Frida’s gaze softened slightly.

He shoulders untensed

She sighed.

“[Deccy, we… you can’t keep doing this.]”

His gaze flicked downward. He sighed. “[Can you get off of me?]”

“[What would it take? How do I get that woman off your ass?”]

[“Frida, there is no ‘getting her off my ass.’ She knows everything about me, she knows all my secrets, she knows who you are, she knows who I am, what I am... She’ll tell everyone.”]

An unbearable pause.

[“Would that really be so bad?”] Frida finally pleaded. She had no other solution. Declan shot her a look.

Yeah…

“[I’d have to shoot her dead to get rid of her,”] Declan resigned. [“And her bitchy little boyfriend, and whatever fail-safes they have in place. You know that the police won’t help me–]”

“[But I can help you!]

“[–and YOU’RE certainly not allowed to help, because before you say anything, I’m not letting you risk your life for me like that. Period.”]

Frida went to argue with him, but she just barely caught that stupid little sparkle returning to his stupid red eyes. God dammit. “[Your girlfriend, on the other hand… I mean if you were willing to hit her with your car, maybe she–]”

And Officer Galleta’s spirited anger returned tenfold, voice soaring high above the trees. “You really don't know when to quit, do you?!”

He laughed. “Nahhhh.”

“I’m just trying to help you!”

“Don’t need it, thanks. Let me up.”

“What if I shot you right here and now?”

“Fuckin’ do it! Finish the job your girlfriend couldn’t! Shoot me. Be her knight in shining armor, you won’t!”

Officer Brooks’ eyes shot open. What was all the shouting about?

“All this talk about saving our lives, and you don't even want to save yourself!!”

“Wait, wait, so… huh?” Kalis tried to interject. God, her body hurt so much. Were they… Were they whispering at each other just now? “What is happening, I don’t– Why were you speaking Spanish?” Kalis groaned, forcing her head to leave behind the cotton balls and clouds. “What did you say?”

“Look, either shoot me or let me up, Frida,” the man deadpanned. “Kill me. I know you want to.”

Frida growled, every muscle in her body tensed, on fire, shaking as she shoved the muzzle of the gun even further into his chin, forcing his head back to grind further into the asphalt. She kept it there for a long while.

So long. Too long. Holy shit was she actually gonna–

Officer Galleta suddenly yelled out, an enraged howl, and bounded off the bounty hunter, kicking a couple of rocks into the ditch sidelining the road. “Augh, this is just like you! Every single time I try to talk to you, you deflect and refuse to talk even though you’re– AUGH!! I just want to help you Declan! And you pull me into your illegal, unethical bullshit–...” She charged back over to him, holding out her hand for him to grab. “Get up. Now.”

He grabbed her hand back and popped right up to standing, dusting himself off as Officer Brooks stared at them, mouth literally agape. She hadn’t– She just–

“You look like shit, by the way,” Officer Galleta commented.

“I feel like shit," Declan chuckled. "Haven’t slept in like three days–”

“And you’re fuckin’ high, too.”

“Ehhhhhh, you caught me.”

“Frida?... What’s going on?” Kalis tried to interject again. Her voice felt so small. She could barely hold back her tears, her chest felt like it was splitting open.

Frida was a dirty cop…?

“Can you at least pretend to care about your own life as much as I do?” Officer Galleta snarked.

He scoffed. “Yeah, care so much that you’d pull a gun on me and threaten to kill me?”

Her mouth fell open, speechless for a moment.

”I– I–... You–”

“Wouldn’t have actually died? Just like your girlfriend wouldn’t have?”

“No! I-I wasn’t actually gonna shoot you!”

“Right,” the mercenary deadpanned. “You were just gonna hit us both with your car so I couldn’t even save her.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?!” Galleta cried. “You saved her from getting hit! And no one had to die at all! This isn't just about your life, asshole! It’s about mine, it’s about my girlfriend’s, our family’s, the people that you kidnap and torture!”

“Oh fuck off, Frida. Having to deal with you is worse than having to torture people, truly.”

“Stop doing it and you won't have to deal with either!”

“Or,” Declan spat. “YOU could leave me alone. Like I keep asking you to!”

Frida’s jaw might as well have been on the floor. “I'm not leaving you alone just because you can't get away from some psycho bitch you fell for ten years ago!”

The bounty hunter’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Sorry for thinking I could actually love someone countless years ago! So sorry for my naivete! Maybe you should inform your secret girlfriend of the Cansano family curse before she gets tortured and murdered too!”

“Oh no, you’re the one who let her get into your pants BEFORE you knew she was fucking insane and then find out about your stupid little secret–”

“No, I’m the one trying to make sure you don’t get turned into a lab rat or brutally tortured and murdered because you don’t understand how fucking insane she can be–”

“–and saw an opportunity to exploit your ‘oh I can’t actually KILL people, I’ll murder them with my stupid little cowboy gun–”

“– even though you were literally there when she threw acid on us and I protected you–”

“–then make them feel better’ BULLSHIT WHEN WE BOTH KNOW IT COULD BE USED FOR SO MUCH GOOD BUT INSTEAD–”

“–because that’s what family DOES INSTEAD OF BECOMING A FUCKING TRAITOR–”

“–YOU BENT TO HER WILL UNTIL I LITERALLY HAD TO CHANGE MY NAME–”

“–WHO SELLS OUT YOUR HER FAMILY JUST TO WORK FOR THE GOVERNMENT–”

“SHUT UP!!” Kalis screeched out, hands pressing into her ears to block out the dizzying noise. Both their attentions turned to her at once, their childish shouting match thankfully screeched to a grinding halt. A dirty cop and a bounty hunter, staring at her. Enemies. Villains.

“Frida!” Kalis cried. “I-I– I don't– what's going on with you?”

Frida’s face melted into a mask of terror as she took in Kalis’s prone form, still sprawled out where the bounty hunter had dove them both out of the way of her oncoming car. “Kalis! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

Kalis skittered away from the cop. “What is happening?! Why– Why are you talking to him like that?! Why were you yelling?”

“I–” Galleta’s breath petered out. “Kalis, I know this looks bad–”

“You’re a dirty cop!”

“I’m not a dirty–”

The bounty hunter scoffed under his breath: “You kind of are though–”

“Shut up!” The two cops yelled at him in unison. He flipped up his hands in surrender and turned to walk away.

“Hey, no, get back here!” Kalis yelled.

The hunter stopped in his tracks and sighed. “Can we please get on with this, I have places to–”

“No! You’re going to prison!” She turned to Officer Galleta. “Look, Frida, I don’t know what’s going on with you and him, but– but– He kidnapped and tortured a boy, Frida! You can’t tell me you’re on his side! I don’t care if he’s like, I don’t know, a love affair, or he’s blackmailing you, or whatever you’ve got going on, but you can’t just sit idly by–”

A barking laugh echoed up and down the highway, a sound that rang off the asphalt and successfully started fringing on Kalis’ absolute last nerve. “Love affair!” the mercenary snorted. “Fuckin’ love affair, holy shit, a love affair! She thinks I’m your boyfriend, Frida! God, no, that would be the day! Shit man, fuck that, fuck that…”

Kalis narrowed her eyes on the cackling man. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

He shook his head. “She’s not my girlfriend, chica. She’s my sister.”

Another pause.

Oh.

Wait, no.

What?

“I–...” she looked over to Officer Galleta. Frida. Her love. “Huh?”

Frida took that small step toward Kalis. “I can explain. But I’d never hurt you, and I’m not on his side. I’m on yours. I promise.”

“I don’t–” She wanted so desperately to believe her. So, so bad. “Are you a part of a crime family?...”

“No, I’m–”

“Technically you are–”

“Declan!” Frida snapped. “I swear to god, shut the fuck up.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his attention elsewhere, while his sister purposefully looked toward her baffled partner. “Look, please understand, I’m not letting him go because he’s my brother, there’s so much–”

Kalis’ eyes widened. “Who said anything about letting him go?”

The color drained from Frida’s face.

“I– I mean… I’m not–...” She took a deep, shaking breath, then started talking at about a million miles a second.

“Look, just listen for a second, you have to understand, lives are at stake here, my life, your life, Declan’s, so many others, I need you to understand I’m trying to make sure no one gets hurt–”

Officer Galleta’s voice faded into the back of Kalis’ mind, static filling her head like thousands of angry bees, only directed by the thunderous pounding of her own heart. It was a strange case indeed, the case of the Traitorous Girlfriend and the Bounty Hunter. The facts and the lies were strewn up across the wall as one, connected haphazardly with spools of knotted red string. Too much, too fast, Kalis couldn’t handle it all, help help–

Stick to the facts, detective:

Frida had a secret villain brother. She was in a crime family? She was a dirty cop. She was a liar. She was just trying to help. Apparently. But what are the promises of a liar if not absolutely meaningless, that of a scoundrel, a fiend? She also wanted to send that boy to his death. She wanted to let a man who captures and kills and tortures set free. She wanted to let him go. She was a liar. She didn’t care that he tried to kill Kalis. She betrayed Kalis. She lied. She just wanted to keep her loved ones safe. She’s a liar. A dirty cop. A liar. A criminal. A liar, she lied, what else had she lied about, was she capable of more, was she capable of killing? Would she just stand by and let her brother kill her girlfriend? Would she help, would she help him torture, HAS she helped him torture, she would kill, liar, killer, betrayal–

Frenzy, frenzy, what was up or down, was was going in with the world–

Human life at stake?

Stan.

Stan was at stake.

Save Stan. That’s all that mattered. Who cared about her stupid life anyway?

She grabbed Frida roughly, desperately grasping at her shirt and yanking her toward the car that held the prisoner. “Frida! Please! He's a kidnapper!”

If she could just show her.

If Frida could just see.

“He kidnapped a boy, he kidnapped a super, he tortured him, you should see the things that he’s done to that boy! You can’t let him go, you haven’t seen what he's done, he’s a monster!”

“Not a boy,” the bounty hunter lulled, popping back up from where he’d apparently disappeared behind the cruiser that almost hit them. With that stupid fuck-ass cowboy hat on again.

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously.

“He’s not a boy,” he repeated, meandering back to them. “He’s 22. He’s an adult.”

No no no no no no no, Kalis, stay focused, he’s trying to throw you off your game.

She grabbed her love’s sleeve, pleading. “His name’s Stan, Frida! Stan! I met him, I talked to him, he’s scared, he’s hurt, he’s drugged, he doesn’t even understand what’s going on right now. You brother, that man right there, he tortured him, Frida! He’s bruised and bloody and he has broken bones, he’s collared so he can’t use his powers and your brother dragged him around by that collar he’s a monster Frida, please, we can save him!”

The bounty hunter’s face shifted in her periphery. Angry. Tense.

Focus on your love. You can save the boy, you can save them both.

Frida tried to reason with her, voice slow and pleading: “...Kalis… I know. I know what he does. What he's done–”

No no NO NONONONO!!

“What happens when I see that boy on the news one day?!” Kalis pleaded, literally grabbing Fridas hands and sinking to her knees. “That he was found dead, when I see the report of every gruesome torture he was put through before he was found, and I see him there and knew that I could’ve done something about it, but I let him go? What do I do then, Frida?”

No response. Not some smartass retort from the bounty hunter, not some vile, pleading words to understand from Frida.

Nothing.

“I promised hi-im,” Kalis wept. “I promised him I’d save him. Please Fri-ida. I-I can’t do this without you, I can't, I need you.”

Frida stared at the ground. She shivered.

“I can’t–” Frida took a large gasp in, voice shaking almost as much as her body. “I can’t– Let–... You. Die.”

The wrathful bounty hunter himself piped up: “I’ll do my best to make sure he’s treated well, yeah?... That’s the best I can do. That’s all I can do.”

His voice was so gentle.

The voice of someone who cared.

The voice of someone placating.

The voice of someone trying to get their way.

Her jaw clenched, so hard she thought her teeth would shatter.

“You… are both… under arrest,” she whispered.

She reached for her holster. Empty. Shit shit shit shit shit– she jerkily fumbled around her pocket and crashed up to her feet in a frenzy, barely managing to get a proper hold on the mercenary’s confiscated gun before brandishing it directly at the bounty hunter and the dirty cop, the traitor.

The mercenary’s eyes widened. Then narrowed. “That’s my gun.”

“You’re under arrest, you’re both–!” she pointed the gun at Officer Galleta, who took a few shocked steps back. “ –under arrest! For attempted murder of an officer, for aiding and abetting, for corruption, for betrayal, for lying, for everything! Both of you! On the ground! NOW!!”

Silence.

A look passed between the siblings, from the bounty hunter to his partner in crime.

A certain gleam in their eyes,

“Drop your weapons, and get on the ground. Now!”

“[Frida, that gun doesn’t have any bullets in it,]” the bounty hunter muttered under his breath.

Officer Galleta’s eyes went wide. She looked to her brother. He nodded.

She knew that sparkle in his eyes.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

“[I better see you again. Fuck you.]”

“[Love you too. Thank you.]”

“Shut up!” Officer Brooks shouted. “No talking, put your hands–”

Officer Brooks screeched in surprise, in fear, in heart-pounding, blood-racing fear as Officer Galleta broke into a sprint and lunged at her.

And she accidentally pulled the trigger of the deadly gun grasped in her hands.

At the one she loved.

No.

NO.

NONONONONONO–

She screamed.

Click.

And she slammed into the ground, all breath knocked out of her violently, her girlfriend scrambling on top of her to pin her down, Kalis scrambling and screeching under that to get up, grappling and shrieking until the muzzle of a standard-issue police gun dug into her chest.

She froze.

Done.

It was over so quickly.

From so close, Kalis could see the tears in Officer Galleta’s eyes.

Her voice cracked.

“Frida… Please… Don’t–”

The bounty hunter swooped by, crouching down just enough as he sprinted to grab his gun and kept running toward his truck. He didn’t look back.

“NO!!” Kalis screamed into the inky black nothingness of the night, into the ghostly white and shadowed and tear-stained face of the person she had trusted most in this world, loud enough that it woke Stan up from his drug-induced haze for the shortest of moments and made him look around in confusion at the sorrowful screams that surrounded him, make him struggle as the driver side door slammed open and shut and Declan scrambled with almost unbelievable abandon to get the engine to turn over.

And Stan cowered away from him, insurmountable fear worming through his mind: He’s going to hurt me again.

“Frida!” Kalis gasped. “Frida, Frida, please, we have to save him, we have to save that boy, we still have time we can still save him let me up let me go please please PLEASE DON’T DO THIS I PROMISED!! I PROMISED HIM FRIDA! I PROMISED I WOULD SAVE HIM I PROMISED PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME A LIAR–”

Officer Galleta didn't say anything. She couldn't. She was frozen to the spot, paralyzed. Except for the minute shudder of her chest, except for the tears that started to fall.

And they stayed like that until the truck of Declan Cansano rumbled to life and screeched off into the night.

* * * * * * * *

Next (when posted)

AND if you'd like to know what's happening in the sludge that is Stan's mind during this scene, check out this drabble!: This Edible Ain't Shiiiiiii~~ (*enters warp space*)

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything

@paperprinxe | @tippytappytyping | @chaotic-orphan | @notactuallyluska | @lumpofsand

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees | @whumpwhittler | @thelazywitchphotographer

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animeniacss · 8 months ago

Text

So Close Yet So Far - Mingyu x Reader - Chapter 19 - What Have I Done?

Synopsis: Your college friend, Kim Mingyu, has had a grip on your heart since the first day you met. Over the past few years, as you acquired more friendships and memories, those feelings only grew. However, recently, Mingyu has seemed a bit more distant, at least when it comes to any ideas of romance. It only gets worse when rumors fly that he's off to Japan to receive a marriage proposal! Unsure what to do, you wonder how you can keep Mingyu by your side without jeopardizing your friendship or your growing feelings. You never expected that waking up one drunken morning next to two hot angels would be your ticket into Mingyu's heart.

Genre: Romance, College!AU, Modern Fantasy, Comedy, Angsty

Length: approx. 6.8k words

Chapter 19 - What Have I Done?

Mina’s desperate attempt to say your name one more time fell on deaf ears, because you simply repeated your comment: “Don’t. Talk. To. Me.”

“Please, I just have to...”

“What? What else do you need to take from me?!” You asked. “That’s it! We are done here! You wormed your way into our lives and took everything from us. What else do you want?!” You motioned to the two men on either side of you. “Them?!”

“Woah, wait.” Jeonghan said quickly under his breath.

“My friends?! My college degree?!””

“No, please.” Mina gulped.

“No, you don’t get to say please to me for anything! I cannot believe I let myself get fooled by you! The minute you told me you came here to be Mingyu’s wife i should have know not to trust you! But I’m an idiot, I will admit. The really thought you and I could be friends. But I was wrong. So now you have everything you came here for and you still ask me for more!? Give me a break!”

“Hey…” Joshua gripped your shoulder. “Take it easy.” You sniffled, feeling all of the tears you were holding back in the hallway with Mingyu finally begin to spill.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not!” You snapped. By now, the entire room had gone silent, staring at you. Mr. Kim and Mr. Miyou were stunned to silence, watching in shock. “How can you possibly be sorry? I can’t accept your apology!”

“You need to listen, I-.”

“I’m done listening! Listening to you got me here in the first place!” You sniffled. “It’s okay if you never liked me, but you claim to love Mingyu and yet you make him suffer like this! I just can’t understand!” Mina finally fell silent, unable to stop you long enough to utter a full sentence. “And you invited me for what? To suffer? It’s cruel after all I did to befriend you and try to see you beyond our feelings. And yet despite all of this, for some reason, I came because I wanted to see if he was truly happy. I just want him to be happy.”

Mina pursed her lips together. She heard her father approaching, along with hotel security. Joshua and Jeonghan immediately took your arms.

“We got her.” Joshua said quickly.

“No need to make a bigger scene.” Jeonghan added. You turned to Jeonghan, who motioned to the door. “Let’s go, okay?” You nodded, before your eyes finally fell to Mingyu, who was standing just behind Mina, his father standing at his side and keeping him from getting closer. You shook your head.

“Don’t invite me to the wedding.” You said simply. Mingyu’s mouth immediately closed as he watched you walk out, Joshua and Jeonghan on either side of you. The hotel security followed behind, seemingly making sure the three of you actually did end up leaving. When the door closed behind him, Mingyu ran a hand through his hair.

“Ohhhh God. I fucked up, I fucked up so hard.” He gasped to himself. All he could see was your teary eyes and red face, a sight he would never unsee for as long as he lived.

“Don’t let that girl get you down.” His father said, a supportive pat too his shoulder. “Seems she’s crazier than we thought.” Mingyu couldn’t look at his father as he walked away with Mina’s. It took a few seconds for the rest of the party to devolve into its previous chatter, the music slowly replaying upon his father’s request. He watched as Mina immediately turned on her heel, heading down to the other side. Her friends from home immediately got up from their spots and swarmed her, comforting her from that ‘scary encounter’. Mingyu turned to the rest of his friends, and his expression only got more pained when he saw their looks of disapproval. “What do I do?” he choked out. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“End your engagement.” Seungkwan said simply.

“But.”

“End the engagement.” Hoshi repeated.

“My father will-.”

“Don’t end it.” A voice behind them alerted all of their attention. Jihoon stood there, hands in his pockets.

“Pardon?” Minnie asked.

“Whos side are you on again?” Seungkwan asked. Mingyu watched Jihoon approach him, patting his arm since he couldn’t reach his shoulder. His lips tightened at the realization of the height difference, the one thing that could bring Mingyu any slight bit of amusement in this moment.

“Don’t dig yourself into any holes. It’ll work out just fine. Just give it some more time. For now.” He pointed to Mingyu’s eyes, which Mingyu only realized now were red and wet with tears. “Keep that expression.”

“What?” Mingyu tried to turn back to Jihoon for more information, but he too strolled out of the party room, the doors once again closing behind him. He sighed, chewing the inside of his cheek when he heard his name called one final time. He turned his head, seeing Mina reapproaching him. He gasped for a breath of air, shaking his hair.

“Yes?” he asked. Mina rubbed her eyes, sniffling. Mingyu kept his hands at his sides, despite the natural instinct to offer her a tissue. “Are you alright?”

“I am. I think I deserved some of that…” she said softly. After a second of scanning the area, her eyes finally landed on his, and widened when she saw how upset he was. “You’re crying?” she asked softly.

“Can you blame me?” he asked, finally raising a finger to rub his eyes.

Mina sighed. “I want to go home.” she said. “I’m exhausted.” Mingyu turned to his friends, who simply turned back to the table, forcing themselves out of the conversation. He looked to the door you strolled out of a few minutes ago. Sighing, he nodded.

“So do I.” he said softly. He knew, however, the car he was going to get into would not take him home, but to the buidling he shared with Mina. He felt as though he deserved it.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

Mina sat on the bed in her room. She could hear Mingyu getting ready for bed himself in the other room, as he always did. She sat for a minute, listening to distant rustlings down the hall before rising up and heading down there herself. The hallway felt longer than it usually did tonight. She walked towards the door, reaching out and knocking on it once. Twice. Three times. When there was still no answer, Mina called out. “Mingyu?”

After an eternity of silence, the door propped open. Mingyu rested himself on the door frame, and Mina felt herself take a second to take all of him in. He was in a loose tee shirt and sweatpants, his hair still a bit damp after a shower. This would be the part of the fairytale where he would smile down at her with his infectious grin, pulling her close to him and whispering sweet nothings about how amazing the night was.

But as Mina recalled earlier in the evening, this was no fairytale. Mingyu’s smile was long since erased from the pages of her mind, and no matter how hard she tried, only blurry memories came to her now. Mingyu crossed his arms, resting his side against the door frame. Instead, he greeted her with puffy cheeks, and bags of exhaustion under his eyes that weighed his entire face down. “Yes?” He finally asked.

“Uh.” Mina was suddenly at a loss for words. All she could picture was Mingyu staring you down in the hotel hallway. His eyes prickling with tears as he tried everything he could think of in the moment to suppress them. She knew what she wanted to say to him, she had been practicing it for weeks specifically for tonight. Why don’t you join me? We are engaged, after all. The words seemed so easy to say, but why were they stuck in the back of her throat? She opened her mouth one more time, and saw Mingyu patiently waiting for her to speak. I can’t. She thought, already anticipating the answer she feared most. She shook her head. “Never mind.” She finally said. “I’m sorry. Goodnight.”

Mingyu nodded as Mina made her way back to her room. She heard him close his door only after she closed her own. Resting against the back of the door, she felt her legs give out all of the energy she had been trying her best to maintain through the day. Her feet were still throbbing from her heels, unable to support her anymore as she sank to the floor. Pulling her legs to her chest, she buried her head in her knees.

When Mingyu’s smile did form clearly in her mind, you were at his side. Fighting over photos during the fireworks, playing chicken in the ocean, nestled close during breakfast the last morning as he tried to steal some of your bacon.

It’s okay if you never liked me, but you claim to love Mingyu and yet you make him suffer like this! I just can’t understand!

It was a cruel irony, but it was one Mina felt she deserved after what she has done. The pain in your voice sat like a dagger in her chest, and she curled up into herself in hopes to push that feeling away.

“What have I done?” she muttered to herself. “I’ve ruined everything. I’ll never see him smile again…”

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

Only son of Kim Law Firm celebrates new engagement – Christmas wedding in the works!

You scoffed at the news title that was plastered on the front of the newspaper that morning and every morning since, tossing it into the garbage so you no longer had to look at the photos of the two together. It made you sick.

It had been a month since the engagement party, and school already back into the swing for the new fall term. Mingyu had yet to show up on campus, and once again the rumors as to why began to spread. Only this time, they were backed up by evidence. Where they even rumors in that case?

“I bet his new wife doesn’t want him on campus with some other girls…”

“I thought the same thing! I wouldn’t let my husband anywhere near his first love. He’s probably taking all online classes.”

“That’s so sad. He made my Korean law class just a bit more bearable, even if it was just the back of his head I saw…”

“Why is this happening again?” you sighed, resting your head on the table of the library. You and your friends had agreed to meet up in the library that afternoon after the lunch rush came to an end. The rumors continued to follow you, latching onto you and sucking the life from your veins like vicious and toxic mosquitos on a hot summer day.

“Don’t listen to them. They have no idea what they’re talking about.” Minnie assured, patting your shoulder.

“Yeah.” Hoshi said. You finally lifted your head up when you heard footsteps approaching. Looking over, you saw Joshua and Jeonghan taking their seats beside you. They hadn’t mentioned Mingyu since you three left the engagement party, nor had they checked their symbols on your hands. You knew better than to ask, though each day you were itching to know even more. Maybe it was those pesky mosquitos leaving bites.

“Please tell Jeonghan he’s in charge of dinner tonight.” Joshua said, his light-hearted comment causing you to look at him.

“I cooked last night. You need to start pulling your weight.” Jeonghan sneered, poking Joshua’s head as he snickered in amusement.

“I did breakfast.” He reminded. You rolled your eyes, closing your textbook. The duo was still playfully bickering until you quickly motioned your book in their direction. They flinched a bit, eyes wide as you simply set the book down and reopened to your page. “Hey!” He pouted.

“I’m not in the mood. You both want to keep staying at my house, you figure out the cooking.” You could practically hear the duo whine, and it only made you smirk as you flipped through the pages.

“You’re not a very nice tenant.” Joshua teased, but immediately looked away when you shot daggers in his direction.

Despite what had happened, and the duos hesitance to talk about it, you three had found a pretty comfortable routine in your apartment. One cooks breakfast, the other cooks dinner, and you always have a delicious meal waiting for you after a long day. At first the duo did it to help you as you got over your emotions. However, it remained this way even a month later. None of you complained. Well, until now. “I think we should get something to eat tonight, anyway.” You said.

Hoshi gasped, leaning forward. “Dinner party at your house?” he asked.

“What?” Despite the shock of the question, a grin formed on your face.

Minnie’s eyes widened. “I’ll bring the drinks.” Minnie cheered.

“I’ll grab snacks.” Seungkwan said, and Hoshi agreed to help.

“ Chicken .” Joshua and Jeonghan beamed. You laughed a bit.

“Uh, okay then. We can study, then.” Closing your textbook seemed to seal the deal. The idea of having plans tonight made you feel pretty good for the night ahead. You scanned the table as everyone seemed to chat with one another about the night ahead, seemingly more excited the more options were thrown onto the table. However, for some reason, you pictured the night ahead, a thought creeped into your head. One thought that you assumed had long since abandoned you.

I wonder what Mingyu’s doing tonight….

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

“We’ll be right back!” Joshua called, both him and Jeonghan already out the door. You waved them off, taking the time alone to set up some snacks for your friends when they arrived. The group chat was buzzing with everyone sending texts about their arrival. Hoshi kept spamming the chat with photos, and you smiled at each one came into view.

Prawn-flavored chips.

Ice cream.

Seungkwan’s face.

A blurry picture of Seungkwan’s face.

Hoshi giving a piece sign.

Jihoonie would totally love that last one. You snorted at Minnie’s text as it flashed onto the chat. Both Hoshi and Jihoon frantically began telling her through text that she needed to mind her business, and it only made you laugh harder. As you finished setting up the last of the snacks in bowls, you sat on the couch. Immediately after sitting, your eyes came face to face with the dust-collecting snowglobe on your book shelf. You exhaled. “I’ve been meaning to put those away.” you mumbled to yourself in hopes it would finally give you the motivation to do so. It didn’t. Instead, you were brought back to when Mingyu first gave that to you.

“Wow, how cute!” Mingyu smiled as you took it into your hands, examining it. “Is this the Statue of Liberty inside?”

“Yeah.” he said happily. “It’s much bigger up close.” You laughed a bit, shaking the globe and watching as the fake snow danced around it. “I hope you like it.”

“I love it!” You gasped. “I feel like I’m really there just by looking.” Mingyu smiled a bit as you shook it once again, continuing to circulate the little snow particles inside. “It’s so cute…” you breathed again in excitement.

“Yeah…” Mingyu breathed, looking at your expression brighten the more you shook the globe. He coughed into his hand. “Hey, uhm…I wanted to tell you something.” He said. Your eyes shot up to him, sparkling in excitement as you waited to hear what else he had to say. “Ah.” Mingyu laughed nervously to himself. “I-.”

“Hm?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“...Want to see pictures of Time Square? It’s huge.” When he held up his phone, you gasped, nodding in excitement. Mingyu scooted closer to you, holding out his phone as he began scrolling through the pictures.

A small smile formed on your lips as you remembered the excitement you had as he showed you pictures of New York, telling you stories of him time seeing all of the major buildings in the area. It was fascinating. “He must have wanted to tell me how he felt then, too…” you mumbled to yourself, chuckling a bit at the realization that was just a little bit to late. Eyes fell to the windchime above your balcony entrance, and the same thing: Mingyu gave it to you, tried to confess, yet got cold feet and simply told you about his trip. Again, the smile forming on your face was widening, and you chuckled.

“...I really need to take this stuff down.” you said again, biting your lip. Before you could do last minute spring cleaning, you heard a knock at the door. Thinking it was Minnie or Seungkwan, you hopped up. “Coming!” you called. You picked up your phone, taking a minute to scan through the constant flow of messages to see if one of them said they had already arrived. None did. “Huh.” You pursed your lips, heading to the door anyway. Another knock, and you picked up the pace. “Sorry. Coming!” you called once again.

Reaching forward, your hand gripped the doorknob, turning it and pulling the door towards you. As it swung open, you looked ahead to see a familiar head of long, black hair. A familiar porcelain face and a familiar set of moles decorating that face. Déjà vu raced through your brain, a marathon being ran in a matter of seconds. “Mina?” you finally managed to gasp out.

“Hey.” She smiled softly. “Bad time?”

You stared at Mina in awe for a few seconds. “What…” you felt your breath catch in your throat. “What are you doing here?” You asked. Mina seemed to think of her answer for a second.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She finally chose to say. “Is this a bad time?”

“Uh, yeah.” You said. “My friends are coming over and-.”

“I’ll be quick. I’m sorry. I know I always drop by at the worst time and leave a mess behind.” You felt the sadness in her voice as she said that despite her forcing out a laugh. That only made it more obvious. “Please.” She said.

“…Okay.” You finally said, motioning her inside. Mina nodded, taking her shoes off before padding into the apartment. You motioned her to the couch, where she sat herself down. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Oh, no. It’s okay.” She said. You watched as she looked around from her spot on the couch. Her eyes fell on every Knick-knack and souvenir she could find. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually been in your apartment for as long as I’ve known you.”

“Yeah…” you sat down on the chair, looking at her. “Now, what did you want to talk about?” Mina seemed shocked when you didn’t continue to entertain her with some small talk, but it made her smile.

“Right. I didn’t expect to come in and be treated like a friend after everything.” You watched Mina open up her purse, pulling out a small white envelope and handing it to you. She saw you hesitate, but it only made her push it closer. “It’s not what you think.” She finally said. You took the envelope into your hands, pressing the paper just a bit to see if it would provide a clue as to its contents. “Promise you won’t open it right now.” She said.

“Why?” you asked.

“Just my request...” She said simply. You arched an eyebrow.

“Well, when will I be able to?” you asked. Mina laughed a bit.

“When I leave, if you want.” You scoffed a bit at the vagueness of the response, setting the envelope in your lap. You looked up at Mina again, wondering if that was the end of the conversation. You could hear your phone buzzing on the table. It was only a matter of time before your friends arrived, and you were hoping Mina would be long gone before then. “I want to say one more thing before I go.”

“Okay.” You said simply.

“I’m sorry. Truly.” You had to suppress a laugh, looking away for a minute to collect yourself. “I’m serious. I’m sorry.”

“You had to come all the way here for that? It could have been a text. You said that when this whole thing started. You said it at the party. Yet, you don’t seem that sorry considering you’ve continued forcing Mingyu to live a lie.” Mina nodded.

“I know.” She said. “I’ve tried making the best of our situation. I thought once Mingyu started classes again, and interning with his father at the firm, he would start to feel better about the entire thing. I thought it would take his mind off of…” when she trailed off, you had to chew your bottom lip. Mina sighed before continuing. “But it didn’t work. It only made things worse. I’ve spent this entire two months trying to make everything feel as normal as possible. At every corner, I’ve failed.” She sighed. “But I think I’ve failed from the very beginning. I joined the game midway through and thought I could win. I told myself I wouldn’t cheat, but I snuck myself to the finish line at the very end. And now I feel dirty.”

“You should.” You covered your mouth when those words escaped your lips. Mina looked shocked only for a second, eyes darting up at you. “That wasn’t-.”

“No.” she said quickly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be proud of how I acted. I told myself I would win Mingyu’s heart fairly. I didn’t want him to be with me for selfish reasons. But when I saw you and him so happy in Jeju, watching him put all of his efforts into you, and knowing that I foolishly chose to help you win, jealousy hit me out of nowhere. I acted brashly and I’m sorry.”

“…It’s nice to know that you’re just as ashamed of your actions as the rest of us were.” You said. “I really thought we were going to be good friends like you promised.”

“I know. I burned that bridge on my own. I’m sorry.”

“But there’s nothing apologizing will do now.” You said. “You did what you did and now you’ve won. Mingyu is yours. He’s chosen you.” Mina chuckled a bit to herself, the comment seeming to hurt her more than you would think. “...Am I wrong?” you asked curiously.

Mina glanced at you. “I…I can’t say.” Mina said simply. “I can only say that my methods weren’t…what I wanted them to be.”

A snort. “If he thinks any of that was true after everything we’ve been through, then he might not have really loved me at all.”

Mina smiled. “You’re all he talks about.” She said. “Even now. Every story I manage to get out of him, or hear him talk about to someone else, is a story that has some connection to you.” Hearing that made you finally go quiet. “I’d be jealous if it wasn’t the only time he smiled recently.”

You leaned back in your seat, finding the right words before you allowed yourself to speak. Was she trying to make amends? Or was she trying to gloat? You felt a weird tingle of guilt course through your veins. “Mina.” You finally said, and she looked over. “I need you to promise me something if you intend to see this marriage through to the end.” Mina watched you get up, walking over to the little snow globe collecting dust on your bookshelf, picking it up and brushing it with your hands. “Promise you’ll be good to him. He’s a good man who doesn’t want people to get hurt. He only gets mad when it’s for those same people that he really cares about.” Mina watched as you passed her the little snow globe. “As you know, he always buys gifts. After a while, when time passed and wounds heal, he’ll probably start buying you gifts. You should act surprised every time, it makes him happy.”

Mina brushed her fingers along the globe as well, a few extra dust particles fluttering down onto the floor as she did so. “You did something selfish but I don’t think you’re inherently bad. He’ll come around one day.”

Mina didn’t believe those words you said for a second, but you didn’t think you believed them either. You just wanted to end the conversation before the lingering feelings began creeping up on you once again. Feelings you long since tried to forget. Déjà vu was a vicious beast, it seemed. Mina finally rose from her spot on the couch, handing you back the snow globe. She watched how delicately you took it into your hands again, smiling down at it briefly before setting it away once more. “I should get going. I’ve held you up long enough. Thank you for talking to me.”

“Sure.” You said softly, walking Mina to the door. You opened it once more, watching as she walked out. She turned to you once more.

“Bye.” She said. You only waved, nodding your head as Mina finally made her way to the elevator. You only watched her depart for a second, before closing the door. Silence reentered the apartment, only the sound of your feet padding against the floor as you picked up the white envelope. You shook your head, opening the side table drawer and sticking it beside the TV remote, slamming it closed. “Yeah, right.” You muttered to yourself. When you felt your eyes begin to water, you walked back over to the snow globe, holding it in your hands. You shook it a few quick times, watching as the snowflakes fluttered around the plastic Statue of Liberty. The memory again flooded your mind and you smiled to yourself.

A loud bang from behind you startled you, your hands jolting up in shock. A scream of shock erupted from your lips and you watched as the snowglobe fell to the floor, the glass shattering around your feet.

“Hey! We are here!” Hoshi called, foot extended outward. He and Jihoon’s hands were filled with bags of snacks, hence his extended foot to open the unlocked door. The duo walked in just as you knelt to the floor. “Hm? Sorry, did I scare you?” Hoshi laughed sheepishly. You did not respond however, your hands frantically picking up the Statue of Liberty. In your rescue attempt, your finger nicked one of the glass shard, and you cursed under your breath.

Jihoon set his bags on the table, walking around the couch to you. “Hey. Are you - oh.” He watched as you looked up, smiling a bit.

“Heh. Sorry.” you said, feeling your eyes water. “You guys scared me.” Jihoon and Hoshi shared an expression, one of pity you couldn’t see behind your watery eyes. However, you did see Hoshi come to you side, resting his head on your shoulder and rubbing your arm as Jihoon knelt down and began picking up all of the glass shards.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

“Try it.”

“No, Jihoon.” Jeonghan said for what felt like the billionth time. He motioned a can to Joshua.

“Jisoo-Hyung?”

Joshua cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at the fallen angel before him. He was holding a beer out in their direction. Jihoon’s smile only got wider as he motioned it closer.

“Absolutely not.” Jihoon scoffed, leaning back in his seat as he cracked the beer open himself. He pouted a bit, putting the drink to his lips and taking a sip.

“I’m going to need eternal drinking buddies! Come on. It’s not that bad.”

“No.” The duo said again. When Jihoon tried to encourage them again, they both responded by sticking pizza into their mouths to avoid the conversation. It made you laugh a bit.

“You have plenty of drinking buddies right here.” You said, patting Hoshi on the shoulder. He set his beer down, already red in the face as he looked up at you. “Right, Hoshi?”

“Aaah, yeah.” He smiled, completely unaware of what you were even talking about. Jihoon immediately leaned forward, handing him a water. “Aaaah, for me? Awwwww, Wooziiiiiii.” He giggled, and Jihoon couldn’t hold back his amused smirk.

“Take it, dummy.” He said. It took a second, but Hoshi popped open the bottle and took a long sip, which you saw finally relaxed Jihoon. The night had been pretty eventual so far, the group eating and drinking the night away as they chatted about anything and everything. Studying, the reason for the late-night visit in the first place, was put on the back burner for loud laughter and snacking. It was much better this way. The current event was watching a very drunk Hoshi and an almost as drunk Seungkwan encourage the entire group to play a game of ‘Hongsam’.

“Not when you’re that drunk.” Minnie said, grinning behind the head of her bottle. Hoshi shot up.

“Yes Hongsam.” He sang, wiggling his hips.

“Everybody Hongsam.” Seungkwan stood up and did the same thing, hoping it would encourage the group to join in. However, when he noticed he was the only one doing it, he blinked. “Hey now….” And the room erupted into laughter.

“Absolutely not.” You said behind laughter, sipping your beer.

“It kind of looks like fun.” Joshua said.

“Then you play.” You grinned. Joshua smiled at you as you took another sip, letting out a deep sigh. “Man, it’s hot in here. I’m going to get some fresh air.”

The idea of you leaving the area perked Joshua’s ears to that instead, forgetting the game even existed. “I’ll come too.” Joshua said quickly, following you out the door. Jeonghan’s eyes, which were amused watching the drunk duo goof off, shot to Joshua as he watched his friend follow behind you, opening the door to the balcony and allowing you to step out first. He didn’t even look back, instead just closing the door behind the both of you.

“It’s about time.” Minnie said, making Jeonghan look over.

“What?”

“With Mingyu out of the picture, I was waiting for the moment Joshua would finally grow a pair and confess. Seungkwan owes me ten dollars!”

“I do not! I do not bet with the likes of you.” Jeonghan bit his lip as the room continued to fill with playful banter, his eyes locked on the balcony. He could only see the both of you a bit, the curtain blocking most of his view. Jihoon noticed the angel’s sudden change in demeanor.

“You sure you don’t want that drink?” he asked only more time, but only got an annoyed glance in response. “Okay…”

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

“I thought you were going to play Hongsam.” You said, looking to Joshua as he joined you outside. He rested his elbows against the balcony.

“I’m not going to be the only one entertaining those two.” He joked, and you had to laugh a bit. You looked down at the world below from your balcony, before taking another swig of your drink. “Besides, it’s nicer out here.” Joshua glanced to your hand which Hoshi and Jihoon had bandaged after your cut. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” you looked down at your bandage, a bit of dried blood poking through. “Oh, yeah.” You assured. Maybe it was the drinks, but guilt began bubbling deep into your chest as you spoke up once more. “Joshua. I’m sorry I messed everything up.”

“What?” Joshua looked over at you.

“I couldn’t get you guys back into heaven. Now, you’re both stuck here until I get with Mingyu. That’ll never happen now.” You let out a dry laugh, and Joshua frowned.

“We’re the ones that knew the risk from the beginning. Don’t blame yourself. We could have done more, too.” He sighed. “I could have.”

“But still-.”

“I said don’t blame yourself. Jeonghan wouldn’t want you to, either.”

“Okay.” You sighed, defeated. Joshua watched as you finished your beer, setting it down on the floor of the balcony. Your elbows loosened, allowing your hands to dangle a bit over the balcony, eyes staring straight ahead. “Are you guys going to live here forever?”

“Do you want us to?” he grinned a bit when he heard you laugh.

“It definitely is less lonely with you two here. But we’ll have to actually invest in nicer beds and maybe more space.” Joshua was now that one to laugh. “Let’s go house hunting.”

“That means we’ll need jobs.” Joshua sighed. “I never thought an angel like me would be sending out job applications on earth.” You smiled as Joshua playfully dropped his head loose on his neck. “Oh, how the mighty fall.”

“For someone who calls Jeonghan dramatic, you’re really dramatic.” Both of you shared a laugh in the cool night air. Joshua glanced over at you one more time. He bit his lip for a second, before finding himself unable to hold back as he asked you a very important question.

“Can I hold your hand?” Confused and stunned expressions led him to clarify. “I want to see my symbol…”

“Oh.” You laughed nervously, turning to him. Joshua watched you extend your hand to him, which he gently took into his own. He stared at it for a minute, as if he was thinking. It made you smile. “Did you forget how to do it?” you asked playfully.

“Heh. No.” He assured. His thumb rubbed over the back of your hand for a second, before he finally closed his eyes. He felt what little angel power he had in his body to summon the contract seal. Is it even there? He thought to himself. If it’s not, there is absolutely no going back. One of his eyes popped open, studying your expression. You were looking back out at the skyline as you waited. The moonlight sparkled along your features, your eyes dancing along to the stars in the sky, studying each one. He felt himself grip your hand a bit tighter when you smiled, seemingly catching a constellation in your sights. I won’t be able to go back. If it’s not there, if it’s red, I’ll use this as a chance to tell her-.

“Uh…Joshua…” the nervousness in your voice made Joshua’s eyes pop open, his cheeks flushed as he tried to pull himself from his thoughts. So much for his chance, he was to flustered now. He followed your gaze, your wide and curious eyes now staring directly at your hand. His eyes followed, and immediately, he saw the little check floating above your hand. “It’s….”

“It’s white.” He breathed out, a mix of relief and shock. Immediately, the both of you looked up at each other, eyes wide. Joshua gripped your hand, looking down at it once again. “It’s white! It’s white again!”

“What does that mean?!” You shouted.

Both of you went silent, turning back to the living room. Joshua wasted no time fling the balcony door open, the loud thud of the large door crashing against its hold startling the entire crew.

“JEONGHAN!” You both shouted, making him immediately hop out of his seat.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶So Close Yet So Far🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

“I’m home.” The sound of the sink running in the kitchen signals for Mina to make her way down the hall. She heads that way after taking her shoes off. When she pokes her head in, Mingyu only looks in her direction. “Hey.” She smiled sweetly.

“Hey.” He points to the fridge. “I saved some of my lunch, if you’re hungry.”

“Ah.” Mina smiled a bit. “Thank you. That’s thoughtful.” Mingyu nodded, turning back to the sink to finish with some of the dishes he had started with. Mina rested against the door frame, watching his back silently. “Mingyu.” She said, but he only hummed. “Remember when we went to the cherry blossom festival in the spring?”

Mingyu nodded his head, not once looking up from the bowl he was scrubbing. “With my friends? Yes.” He said. Mina nodded.

“Would you want to go again next spring?” Mingyu shrugged at the question.

“Maybe.” He said. Mina nodded. Mingyu then stopped the dishes, finally looking back in her direction. She instinctively stood up straight. “Oh.” He motioned to the kitchen table in the corner by their bay window. “I took the liberty of skimming through some of these when I got the mail. I was curious.” He picked one up, flipping through it casually before turning the page in her direction. Her eyes followed his finger as he tapped on a set of beautiful Christmas flowers. “These are nice.”

Mina felt her heart speed up, eyes sparkling. He’ll come around. “You think so?!” She asked. Mingyu nodded, and Mina looked at the burgundy red flowers nestled in beautiful green leaves. The wintery background of the picture only enhanced the Christmassy vibes of the flowers. Mingyu turned the page back to him, smiling a bit to himself as he nodded.

“I’ve really fallen in love with this color in the past year…” he said. Mina’s smile dropped as Mingyu set the magazine down on the table, making his way back over to the counters. Mina watched him grab a sponge and start to wipe some of the counters down. She looked over at the flowers once more, trying to recall where she had seen that color before. The more she thought about it, the more images flashed into her brain.

“She does look so pretty in that dress.” Mina whispered to herself.

“What?” Mingyu looked over, eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to figure out what she was whispering about. He saw Mina closed the magazine and set it back down, an obvious look of discomfort on her face. “Hm? Are you okay?” Mina walked over to Mingyu without an answer, taking his hands tightly. He dropped the sponge that was in his hands, glancing down at it for a second. “Hey.”

“Let’s go on a trip.” She said quickly. Mingyu arched an eyebrow, but Mina was already dragging Mingyu out the door, slipping on the fastest pair of shoes they could as they made their way to his car in the garage.

The drive was quiet, but not in a way Mingyu had found himself used to in the past. Mina looked out the window the entire trip, hands in her lap as she gripped her pocket book. Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned the next corner.

“She really did think she was talking to you.” Mina said, the sudden sound of her voice causing Mingyu to look over at her. She turned to him. “At the beach house.”

“Ah….” he nodded. Mina sighed.

“I was right on the balcony. I saw it all. Jeonghan came to get her, and she said goodbye to Mingyu.” Mingyu gripped the wheel.

“Why are you telling me now?” he asked curiously.

“I thought you should know.” she said simply. “I know it really hurt you, and her. Not only that, but it hurt Joshua. He didn’t do anything wrong. I was jealous.” Mingyu nodded his head.

“Thank you.” he said. Mina smiled a bit, looking down at her pocketbook. She admired the cherry blossom keychain that jingled with every bump Mingyu hit on the drive, and she took it gently into her hands.

“How cute! Thank you Mingyu!”

“I figured you’d like it since you seemed to enjoy the festival.”

“I didn’t buy you a gift.”

“Don’t worry. It’s from friend to friend. Thank you for being so cool with everything at breakfast.”

“No problem…”

“I’m hoping next year I’ll be able to take my friend to the festival. We can go together. She’s been telling me how badly she’d love to see them in person.”

As Mingyu pulled up in the driveway of his father’s home, Mina was relieved to see her father’s car also there. Mingyu slowed the car in the driveway, and when it came to a stop, Mina was already out of the car. He watched her speed walk up the driveway, bag gripped tightly in her hands. Mingyu slipped out of the car as well, beeping it to ensure it was locked before following after her. “Mina!” He called, but there was no answer.

Mina walked past every single worker in the house as they greeted her, Mingyu quickly following behind and saying his own greeting to them followed by a frantic slew of ‘sorry’. “Mina.” He called again. “What are you doing?” He was horribly confused to what had her locked and loaded right as they pulled into the driveway. However, when he saw Mina turn down a very familiar corridor with a very familiar set of doors at the end of the hall, Mingyu felt dread in his stomach. “Mina.” He called again, but it was too late.

Mina swung the doors of the office open, alerting both her father and his own. Mingyu hurried behind her, finally alerting her attention to him for a second. “What are you doing?” he asked. She only offered him a smile, before turning to her and Mingyu’s fathers.

“What’s the problem, honey?” her father asked, standing up from his spot.

“Father.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like to end my engagement.”

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