#i get way too into the historical research
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Miss Tracy, do u have any advice on researching a specific time period?
(also I know u probably won't see this, but I love your art and you are awesome)
Look for books about the time period, but also books written contemporaneous to the time period, whether fiction or non-fiction. Check used book stores for out of print gems at good prices.
If photography was a technology that existed in the time period you're researching, look for photos of people doing everyday things. Take in the context, the geography, the economic situation. Look at how they're dressed and what their clothes say about them.
Newspaper archives. Sometimes newspapers of the past are free to browse. Sometimes you have to pay for access. Old shopping catalogue collections - if they exist for your time period - are great too.
Documentary films about time periods, or specific events in a given time period can be useful, even if only for a broad overview.
Museum exhibits - helpful whether you're looking for famous paintings or artifacts of past civilizations in a world renowned institution, or trying to dig up something impossibly unique in an oddity denture museum in some forgotten place in the Midwest. If you can't go in person, check online. You can find museums with vintage clothing or household appliance collections from even a few decades ago. Some museums have extensive, searchable online collections too. Take the Metropolitan Museum for instance.
If you can visit historical sites relevant to your area of interest, do it! Do those little guided walking tours. Do the ghost tours even - they're often fairly history-centric with some paranormal folklore for added spice. Sometimes they get you access to places you otherwise can't enter. Check historical societies local to cities or towns of interest.
If you need information about something deeply specific, check the internet for communities that form around that deeply specific topic. I've found tidbits of useful info searching around old forum posts from radio enthusiasts, Model T owners, and people who collect old telephone booths. (Granted, it's getting harder to search for this kind of stuff nowadays.)
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Be careful of AI trash, whether it's generative images, text descriptions, or entire articles. Don't rely much on film or television for accuracy. Some things are more interested in being accurate than others, but there's almost always some artistic license taken. If you're trying to be particularly accurate about something, triple check it for confirmation. Misinformation has had a way of spreading like insidious mildew even before AI started disseminating it with delusory authority.
Lastly, if you don't enjoy doing this kind of historical research like a weird little detective-creature, consider loosening up on the 'historical' aspect of your writing. It's okay to not focus on historicity in your fiction. But if you're going to dive in whole-hog on history, bear in mind it's an ongoing, often time-consuming adventure in information-finding.
(Thank you for the kind words!)
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I mean... I think we got a bit too carried away with this whole "believable sci/fi-Fantasy" thing.
There's this push recently to return fiction to its more simple and sublime side where the point is to engage the reader more than make them believe the plot could totally happen.
I've always opposed the advice "write what you know" because it makes for really lame storytelling, and researching about X or Y topic an always enrich the fiction the author creates.
But on the same vein, we shoould take Sci-fi and historical fiction in a more lighthearted way because if your story is only using the time period for backdrop then there's no need to put in more than a few hours of research into it.
The thing is this advice is going to come off as reductive and dismissive in these day and age because now more than ever it seems people are looking for self identification and knowledge in fiction stories. Which yeah, you can totally try as you might but fiction is only gonna get you so far.
If the book deals specifically as a critique of society in certain historical period, or the marginalization of X group, then yeah of course having a good historical basis is fundamental; but if the story is focused on the characters front and center I think you can let a lot of innacuracies slide.
We also have to bring up the conclusion brought up by @nondelphic: "either way someone on the internet will tell you you're wrong". Which yeah, there's always gonna be some smartass ready to "Uhm akchually you". You're writing a fiction work, not an academic paper. Academics would be too busy or have too specific a field to give a fuck about correcting you.
writing anything even remotely outside your personal expertise means you’re signing up for one of two disasters:
a) spending 300 hours researching medieval plumbing systems for a three-sentence scene in your fantasy novel that no one will even care about, OR
b) skipping the research entirely and hoping no one notices when your 17th-century pirate casually says, 'let’s circle back on that.'
either way, someone on the internet will tell you you’re wrong.
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OHMYGOOOOOODDD CATIE YOUR LITTLE DOODLE ART OF BOY KING LIL SEB ITS GORGUS!!!! CANT WAIT FOR THE MORE HEADCANONS PLEASE DRAW MORE ITS BEAUTIFUL!!!!<3333
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH THANK YOU ELLE!!!!!!! 💕💕💕💕 HE IS MY PRETTY BOY 🤭 THANK YOU FOR INDULGING MY NICHE AUs 💕
I would like to draw a lot more :D I think it's a lot of fun to look at historical eras and try to make parallels and connections!(either through my OCs or my F1 boys) But god, when I look at old paintings for ref, the level of detail in the clothing is a bit scary... but I still think it's very interesting to do research into it and design it :)
Bit of historical rambling:
I said in the tags that this AU could really only be Vettonso, and I will explain why. I mean obviously at first, I was only comparing that statue to Seb because uhhhh he looks like Seb!!! But I researched a bit more into that era and guess what's happening at this point: The Spanish War of Succession. Which was when the Spanish Throne was up for grabs, and the two main candidates were a Spanish Duke and an Austrian heir to the Holy Roman Empire. See where I'm going with this?
But the Spanish Duke ends up getting the throne, rightfully, but the Austrian ends up becoming the Holy Roman Emperor even though he wasn't first in line, so who really won in the end!
Lmao I think this AU would end up being: well, guess how we can reunite the Austrian and Spanish bloodlines again....arranged marriage plot!! Canon Divergence in both the matters of them being replaced with Vettonso and also with the war not happening
God help me, I read way too much about the Habsburgs, I blame my trip to Austria 🤧 My German prof, who is from there, always seems kinda proud of the history so I wonder what he'd think if he knew I was looking into it this much....and bastardizing it
#i get way too into the historical research#like making a red string board about how this f1 driver = this historical figure#this one is moreso i guess just about the whole thing btwn the spanish kingdom and the austrian empire#like yeah i have specific historical figures in mind about who would be who in the context of it#but yeah more about the general political situation and climate of the time i guess#so now i have 3 random AUs. i think I mostly make them bcs i like to research history soooo much +#and its a lot more fun to try and implement that knowledge rather than it living in my head for no reason#i still think the nandopoleon one is the best(which ive not really posted about here)#that one to me like weirdly lines up way too well#but anyways hehehe boy king sebby!!!!! love him!!!#the guy whos in that statue(Joseph I) is lowkey so irrelevant like in the greater historical context#hes still an important figure but i guess i would describe him as a plot device#so yknow seeing that statuette i more think of seb and how it reminds me of him :D#thank you for the ask elle!!!!!#as i said im glad people are interested 😭 cause even to me these AUs are all really out of the blue#catie.rambling.txt#catie.asks.#boy king au
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sometimes you start to wonder what the historical record for the guys you made up looks like in the fictional world where they existed. and then you make some fake documents about it.
[moth and compass is a collaboration with @natdrinkstea!!!]
#em draws stuff#oc time again hehe#moth and compass#the lieutenant: chadwick goodfellow#the cannon spike: matthew worley#Get Wikipedia-ed! [my writing style is not very good but you'd best believe that my typefaces and colors are as accurate as can be]#do not really like the way that semi-realistic older matthew turned out but I was tired of looking at him. So.#genuinely very proud of Poorly Scanned PDF Goodfellow though. fiddled around with textured eraser settings for Hours and it was Worth It.#anyway now it's FUNFACTS time! since this is of course not the only lore that there is on these guys#but just what one might find if you tried to research them now in m&c-verse#as we are in the timeline where these are just guys from mine and nat's heads there is More That Can Be Said#such as that the drawing of goodfellow in that article is copied from the second portrait of him#and if you've been paying attention to previous goodfellow drawings you may have seen it!#I've also previously drawn the midshipman miniature and it's around somewhere as well#also matthew + faith + george were all in a relationship while george was alive#but too few of their letters survive for wikipedia editors to confirm that :/#I feel. Weird about posting this for some reason. but it may just be on account of that it is fully 1am when I'm writing this. ah well.#also the places mentioned in here are Made Up also#there Was in fact a historical hms ophelia but she was over a hundred years later so Shhhh
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I wish all jujutsu kaisen fans a very media literacy and manga reread
#Shut up shut up the ending makes sense just take ur time to read and ponder it doesn't have to be explicitly held held explained to u#I won't insist that my every interpretation is 100% correct but thr beauty of story is it can mean what it needs to for readers as individua#I'm so content with the way that it ended bc yeah I have read and spun theories and reread it until it made sense#I didn't understand much the first time it always takes several reads and translations notes help a lot too#But there IS a lot of information there if you're open to finding it#Gege is rly thr best it's so unfortunate#Jujutsu kaisen fans can't read#Like are we even fans if we talk shit on the author?? I don't think you are but why read just to hate it??#Jjk ending#Jjk manga#Gege did nothing wrong#Rant#Vent#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fandom#There are things I'd never understand on my own but lovely readers do research and share what they learn about historical culture language#Context etc and idk I also get that it's hard to sort through. The majority of takes are easily debunked. But if you just. If you just read#The manga several times.... It gets better and more intense and sensical and emotional every time...#Sigh#Sorry I'm sleep deprived and sick of all the gege hate on my fyp!#It never ends I never interact I hide those posts but they still show#Which means I follow a closet hater or the algorithm sucks ass#Probably#Gege akutami#I owe u my life#This last year has been rly hard and idk how I would've survived without your work#I hope u have a good rest and recreational period for as long as u want to
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guys im actually so academically proud of myself this term. i feel like I've gotten so much better at historical analysis. this is a skill with which it's difficult to see if you're progressing or not, because there's no roadmap to lead you. sometimes it might feel like all your work has been for nothing.
but i finally feel like. I've gotten better. im sharp and i keep coming up with interesting takes and i keep catching details in sources my professors compliment me on. i have no clue exactly how I've done it but somehow it seems like I'm going in the right direction.
#my want to become a researcher is growing on me again#my prof told be i should transfer to this uni permanently and sign up for their contemporary history masters#and honestly I WANT TOOO#i wanna research i wanna write and teach and take historical minutia way too seriously#but i know the workplace conditions aren't exactly the best#and getting stability takes way too long. is not guaranteed#and it requires a level of commitment to academia im not willing to give#i love myself too much for that thank you. i have hobbies#so im probably not going to do a PhD#not like I COULD. i don't have the grade for a scholarship#and i don't have the money to do it without a scholarship#i might still come back for the masters though
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i'm glad you enjoyed brandon F
little note about the uniform thing, the reason why he drags on a bit on that is cause he's a reenactor, 18th century uniforms are his insane obsession. he even jokes about it in the video i sent, saying "i'm finally back to my insufferable self!" when talking about the muskets
i don't blame him tbh, after watching his content for a while i had the realization that 18th century isn't like the romans, whose equipment we deduce through archeology, old sources and guess work.
like, the actual documents that standardized 18th century uniforms still exist and are not hard to access, i realized that after Brandon noted that his source was the fucking British Royal Library in London. ( i mean ffs there's literally photos of Napoleonic era vets heres a video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npSru7xEzX8)
and i honestly think its relevant, because if a million dollar historical production didn't want to put in the effort to go to a library and get the official documents. then what else they weren't bothered to get right?
but Brandon doesn't just do historical reviews he also talks a lot about the history in general. like, why fight in lines? what were marines in the 18th century? the history of tactics. and what role did cavalry play in line warfare? for example
heavens bless people of utube that manage to get hyperfixated on one topic for basically their entire life and then proceed to make stuff about it for us to watch, right? it's a delight to listen to someone who actually enjoys the subject and their subject therefore basically guarantees the authencity of what they put out
oooh but yes, the concept itself of what we actually get to know about things in what manner is fascinating in on itself. so since i was small i had been very fascinated by chinese mythology and mythology somewhat comes along with other parts of the culture and so on. and you know how the chinese culture is one of the oldest in the world?
as a result i've somewhat grown accustomed to the numbers that are typical to the span of chinese history and now whenever i go look into the history of my own country i'm actually stumped over how recently certain things happened! then again you wouldn't believe how oppressed or manipulated slovaks had been across history. ain't that right -glares at hungary-
to what extent we know which culture's history is so wild. the ability for certain historical things to simply last is absolutely incredible (such as military uniform documents or musical pieces of 18th century). fun fact! there's still messages written in stone by the soldiers of the roman empire on slovakia's territory. right near Danube, i think, p sure i visited that
thank fuck for reliable sourcing and also thank u for that vid that's gon come in handy for clothing references at Some point, i can feel it
and you are absolutely correct, yes! it Is relevant! as mister Brandon has said, there's of course a certain leeway allowed when it comes to more kid oriented stuff, but i'll admit! i was surprised to learn that serious historical productions apparently put less effort into these kind of things than the sea beast did (i don't usually watch those kind of things, i'm very fantasy/sci-fi and cartoon focused)
this kind of muddling of history that may seem "insignificant" to money grabbing bastards really screws up the perception of the eras for people who don't really have the time or the drive to look into things themselves. it's annoying
oh while we are on this history stuff, i saw this originally in utube shorts, but Apparently they are making a netflix movie or smth about Cleopatra and they made her black?? which is weird, considering that Cleopatra was greek and all that stuff. like don't get me wrong, yes give silenced/less known cultures like black folk more space to present themselves and who they are but like don't do it in a way that heavily skews the history? why are you going out of your way to create misinformation that could heavily impact understanding of history by taking out an already famous (not poc) person instead of Actually making the space for historically important black people. like maybe why not make a movie about that one super rich king from the southwestern coast of Africa (i think) that crashed the egyptian economy twice by being just too damn generous. that would be SO much more helpful to black peeps' history than shoving a black person into the place of a white one
i swear films nowadays either lack soul, heart, spine or brain like 98% of time
#Spot says stuff#// long post //#gklsdmglk you say 'not only history reviews but also history in general' and then all that is listed is battle focused things#saying historical warfare is okay i wont get mad even if the current political things here would perhaps justify me to#ill keep him in mind when ill need help with battle research for a story or smth along those lines. wonderful to have a well sourced place-#-to get info from#i personally think its good to talk about these historical things includin stuff like the world wars. ever since i heard that some people-#-think that ww2 was not real i became of the opinion that it should be talked about more and not seemingly tabood by society in a rather-#-quiet subtle manner. on internet too. we have taggin systems and ways to warn those who dont want to see it. they can dodge it and-#-us? us that are okay should talk and joke. cuz then that creates Conversation n it prevents cretins out there who think all that suffering#-that happened is just some fabricated silly drama from existing#she is of the 15th century but lately ive been interested in joan of arc. if u happen to have smth on her id like to check it out!
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Yandere Ghost Smut
afab reader ; nsfw
“This house is totally perfect! You’ll love it,” is what your realtor told you when they finally found a house within your budget. You loved the aesthetics of historical homes, so when they discovered an older house that not only was in your price range, but had just minor damages, they called you immediately.
You moved in within the month. It didn’t take long to settle into your new home. There was a room with shelves meant for books, and you spent most of your free time there, enjoying the books from your collection that could rival a library. Sometimes, you would feel a sudden chill in the air when reading, and grow pensive. It would feel like someone was watching you. But besides that, nothing was out of the ordinary. You just assumed you were too stressed out and growing paranoid as a result. Everything was fine.
Well, it was. Until you started waking up with strange markings on your body. You woke up one day in a cold sweat, waltzing into the bathroom to wash your face off, only to find what looked like hickeys on your neck and upper chest area. Weird. Did you have bugs in the bed? Was it an allergic reaction to the new detergent you bought for the sheets? You had no idea.
You were never able to solve the issue because the markings disappeared within a few hours, and didn’t come back again. Once more, you shrugged it off and assumed nothing was amiss.
Yet eventually, things got even stranger. Your panties started disappearing one-by-one, and you were sure you hadn’t misplaced them. Specifically, your already worn undergarments would disappear from the dirty laundry bin before you could wash them. What the fuck?
“I don’t know, Mary,” you call your best friend one afternoon, “I feel like this place is haunted. And what’s even weirder is I keep getting these wet dreams…like every night. I’m not even sexually frustrated so I don’t know why I wake up wet or with markings on myself.”
“Maybe you got a ghost fucking ya?” She jokes around and you both get a laugh out of that. But for some reason, the deepest part of your being can’t dismiss that thought.
You begin to grow paranoid and start searching for any signs in your house that someone else is living with you. You decide to enter the dusty attic, and find rather antique furniture and a box containing a photo of a man and a woman. He was handsome, albeit a little creepy looking, but what struck you as odd was woman next to him. She looked eerily like you. You brought the photos downstairs to do some research on your computer, but alas, found no information on the man or the woman. The only thing you found out was that there was a fire that had damaged the property all too many years ago. You felt the creepy sensation of being watched again, and called it quits for the night, opting to get some much needed rest.
That night, you saw him.
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It’s midnight when he appears in your room, watching your beautiful self slumber. You were so perfect, all those years ago when you left him, and even now. He loves the way the sheets drape your body, but slowly peels them off to reveal that you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. There is a slight sheen of sweat on your skin as your eyebrows furrow cutely in your sleep.
His angel must be having a nightmare, but he can take care of that. Gently, he trails his cold fingers over your curves. He admires your beauty, so happy to see you once more. He can’t wait another minute.
While you’re still on your side, he unclasps your bra, relishing the way your tits fall free without the support. They look so beautiful and perfect, he can’t even begin to describe how enchanted you make him feel.
You roll onto your back. He slides your underwear to the side, revealing your pretty cunt to his ghostly eyes. With a delicate touch, he rubs your clit in small circles, playing with you.
You gasp at the touch and he smirks. Your shuffling does little to deter him from his objective.
He’s on the bed with you, intently staring at your lower half. He admires your folds and moves them open and closed with his fingers, revealing a leaking hole that was your wetness. With a gulp, he slides your underwear off you, wadding it into a ball, burying his face into it as he takes a whiff of your scent. He’d be tasting the real thing soon enough. Once satisfied, he pockets your undies for safe keeping. He tilts his head down to your lower body, shifting into a more comfortable position. With a breath of anticipation, he slithers his cold tongue over your vagina, moaning slightly at the sensation.
He’s been doing this every night he could manifest, and it never got tiring.
This time, and he doesn’t know why, you wake up, staring down at the mysterious man in terror as he laps you up like a man thirsting in the desert. You mean to run but you can’t move. You feel something cold and wet tying your body to the bed. You try to close your legs from your violator, but his icu hands grip firmly on your thighs, keeping them wide open for him to shove his face between.
Under the moonlight, the two of you make eye contact but he doesn’t stop, instead opting to send you a wicked smile. “Good morning, love,” he says gently from beneath you. “I missed you so, so much. You know that?”
You’re in a state of shock, words screaming in your head but not quite reaching your vocal chords. The only sound you can make is a whimper as he shoves his tongue further into you, his nose rubbing you causing further pleasurable friction. He sucks, licks, and rolls your clit with his tongue.
Suddenly, he slides a cold finger into your hole and you gasp, arching your back only to be stuck back down again. “Don’t move, pretty thing,” he scolds you.
“F-fuck,” you finally manage to whisper, heart racing, “Who are you?”
“Someone who’s been watching you for a very, very long time.” He’s stopped licking you, instead moving to pump another finger into your pretty cunt, thrusting in and out at a moderate pace. His eyes show so much love, desperation, and lust in them that you have no idea what to do or where to go. Then it clicks. The man from the photo. That’s who he was. How could that be possible? Was he an actual ghost?
“I’ve been so lonely without you, princess. When you left me to burn, do you know how heartbroken I was? But now you’re back, and we can finally be together again. I’m not letting you leave me another time.”
He now has three fingers inside of you, picking up the pace. The lewd sound of slick fingers sliding in and out of your cunt drives him wild. His face is back between your thighs again, lapping you up and suckling on you until you’re visibly shaking.
“Aw, sweet girl. Gonna cum?”
You don’t want to, but you feel something hot and heavy coming.
“Shit. Cum in my mouth, sweetheart. Wanna taste everything you got.” He latches back onto you.
Your stomach drops and you let go, mind very distressed but body obviously in heaven. Your pussy spazzes out on him and he moans as he licks up the mess you leave behind. With a wipe of his mouth he grins, eying you like a rare prize he had just one at the fair.
He grabs onto you, embracing you in a hug you can’t run away from. Seriously, why can’t you move? He notices your struggles and laughs, snuggling into your chest.
“Ah ah ah, no running away, love. I’ve waited so long for you. You’re not going anywhere.”
He flips you to where you’re face down, ass up. Your vagina is dripping, juices sliding down your thigh. He licks his lips before biting his lower one, admiring the roundness of your ass and your now puffy and pink pussy.
“Oh, love. You got no idea what you do to me…”
You feel something cold and hard tap the entrance of your walls, and you freeze. Oh god, was he going to fuck you? His hands are on the sides of your ass, but you feel another set of cold hands grabbing your arms, and even another pulling at your tits. You whimper at the overstimulation.
“Enjoy the hands. They’re all me.”
Before you can reply, he’s sliding his dick through your entrance. Your pussy quivers at the sensation and he laughs. “Did you just come from that, love?”
Once you take all of him, he leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I want to hear you moan, sweetheart. Go on, make some noise for me.”
As he’s taking you from behind, a hand shoves its fingers into your mouth, and you gag on it. The sets of hands on your breasts are now fondling them, pinching and squeezing. You’ve never felt so much at once before, and you eventually yield to the pleasure, moaning as he thrusts into you.
“That’s it, baby. Take it. Take it all. You’re fucking mine,” He snarls, and you whine at how hard he’s pounding into you, ferocity now evident in his demeanor.
You slurp and suck on the fingers, only for it to pop out of your mouth and slide into your ass instead. You cry out at the sensation. A hand is sliding circles around your clit as he fucks you, sending waves of pleasure over your body you’ve never known before.
“Too much!” You cry, sobbing with pleasure.
He gives you a kiss on the neck. “Almost done, love. Just keep taking it, okay? You’re doing so good for me. God, you’re fucking perfect.” His thrusts became sporadic, and you know he’s close.
In the end, you come once more, and you feel he does too. When he pulls out, you collapse on the bed, blacking out. Morning eventually comes, and you feel someone is holding you from behind. A set of hands grope your body as you wake up.
“Morning, love. Ready for round two?”
#male yandere#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere writing#yandere x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere male#soft yandere#yandere drabble#yandere smut#yandere x you#yandere x darling#smut
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The trace of you
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: psychiatrist!Jeong Yunho x patient!female reader
ꕤ Warning: bullying, mistreatment, ptsd, mentions of insanity & abuse, mental health talks, psychiatric diagnose, unethical thoughts and actions ꕤ Word count: 25.1k ꕤ Rating: mature ꕤ Genre: dated around the late 1800's, psychiatrist x patient, lots of yearning, mutual pinning, forbidden love, inspired by Alias Grace, angst ꕤ Summary: Being caged inside your home for a wrongdoing you can't even remember seems to not have the effect people have been expecting. With the arrival of a foreign doctor with studies unheard of before, your life takes a new turn. Will Doctor Jeong prove your innocence, or will he fall into your web like everyone else? Are you sane, or is he just as insane as his patients?
A/N: Helloo, my lovelies! ^^ Wrapping up this story took way too long due to me having some unplanned health issues that are still (?) kicking my ass...anyways, keep in mind while you're reading this that there are probably historical inaccuracies to this story, especially to South Korean history that I briefly read through when constructing Yunho character's background. The dresses MC wears also aren't the most accurate, but I hope you can look past that and imagine instead whatever you'd like. I watched the mini-series Alias Grace and was rather inspired by it, so you will find similarities to it within this story. I am no medical professional, so the diagnosis MC is given might be inaccurate even though I have taken my time to research these things. Let me know if I should tag anything else as a warning, and I really hope you enjoy this story as I have tried making it a bit different. Let me know your thoughts about it, I am always excited to read your feedback! <3 Oh, and, I hope Santa brings you something sweet tonight, this is my not so small present for you all! ^^ divider
The old clock’s ticking seemed to only get louder by the second. The sheer curtains were pulled to the side to allow more sunlight inside the tea room, the grand doors opened to let in the late fresh summer breeze. The white hydrangeas lining the paths leading towards the back garden were gorgeous and carried a strong scent with them, I could smell it from my spot on the soft faded pink cushion of the sofa brought all the way from France. The tea room had been remodelled not long ago. There was something about it that gave old cottage vibes, but it has now been upgraded to a more fashionable Parisian feel. It was pretty, with hues of light peach and a darker coral, however, I used to like more the cosy feeling of the sage green and baby blue colours that had decorated the room once. Karina liked it more this way, she had said something about the lighter colours giving the impression of a bigger room. I did not understand why the tea room was required to look grander than it already was, but I didn’t question her judgment. It was best if I didn’t, not out loud, at least.
The servants were quietly waiting outside the room as my mother paced in front of us, Karina perched on a fancy chair with an abandoned book in her hands. I knew the ticking of the old clock and the silence was driving her mad, but I remained silent as I gazed forward, eyes on the gravel path. I longed to walk in the meadow close to our house, but I wasn’t allowed to roam around on my own. Even inside my own home, I was under constant surveillance. The doctors have said it was for my own sake, but it felt like I was in a continuous cage. It was suffocative, I couldn’t sleep some nights due to it, not even after drinking Mrs. Humphrey’s delicious camomile tea. My last hope resided in summer, in the warm breeze that kissed my cold skin, everything a lush green where I looked, to keep me sane. As sane as it could, since I was deemed a madwoman long ago.
Unlike the others who hired chauffeurs and dated carriages with old horses, this doctor arrived by a fancy patent motorcar. It wasn’t him driving it, at least the servants had whispered that to each other, but his long wool coat looked expensive too. My mother finally stopped pacing and Karina sighed in irritation when there was a knock at the front door. One maid stepped forward and opened the door for the doctor, gently greeting him. I couldn’t hear his voice, I was trying to catch the song of the birds outside, but I could feel the shift in the air. It was warmer inside as if the sun had stepped through our threshold. It warmed my skin like none other. Finally, the doctor was led towards the tea room, my back to him as my lips moved in a whispered song that comforted me. If I ignored the coil of my stomach and the sheen layer of sweat over my brows, I could convince myself that I was fine. That whoever came to check on me wasn’t another vicious man eager to torture a damned soul like mine.
“My apologies, ma’am, I am unfamiliar with these roads.” The man’s voice was deep yet soft, like honey, thick but inoffensive. At least if I told myself that, it calmed my rapid heartbeat. As I continued sitting rigidly, my fingers wrung together, the tremors never disappeared. It was something natural, the other doctors have concluded, something they couldn’t fix about me. Another thing they couldn’t fix about me. It was fine, I knew I had been damned a long time ago.
“Oh, it is no issue, we are glad you made it, Doctor.” My mother’s voice was filled with deep relief as the crease between her brows finally disappeared, hands locked behind her back as she rushed towards the entrance. Karina was surprisingly silent, but her expression spoke volumes. Her eyes had widened and her mouth had parted, fingers barely clutching the book in her hands anymore. I gulped, trying to steady my irregular breathing. I knew what was coming, the same questions and objects this doctor, too, would use to check my stability. I dreaded it all, I wanted to scream and throw a vase and make it shatter against the ground, but I would only be deemed even crazier. My eyes shook when I heard footsteps approach, heavier than those of my mother or Karina, it was the man. The Doctor. He was coming further inside, I could feel his eyes trained on my nape, no doubt curious and with a glint madder in his eyes than in mine, here to dissect me, pick me apart just to never fix me. I saw polished black shoes stop before me, and the lump in my throat almost made it impossible to speak up.
“Miss Harold, my name is Doctor Jeong Yunho.” Then, unlike any other doctor had done, this one’s knees bent until he was crouching in front of me, looking at me. His eyes were round and kind, a dark brown unlike my icy ones, and they were filled with warmth and softness I hadn’t seen in any other man. His nose had a perfect slope and his fair skin was sun-kissed, the apple of his cheeks a rosy red. His lips weren’t too big but pouty and full, asking to be traced gently by soft fingertips. I shuddered, completely taken aback by his youth and beauty. The man was from faraway lands, yet judging by his speech, you couldn’t tell until you saw him. He was gorgeous, he was breathtaking, “Would you feel safe if it was just the two of us in this room?”
No, I wanted to scream. My fingers tightened against each other, I gulped and hesitantly nodded, our eyes spilling into each other’s as if a spell had them locked together. His features were serene and sincere, not a frown on his beautiful face to create creases, just a soft smile pulling at his lips. It was disarming and frightening at the same time. Then, the doctor smiled even wider as he stood back up, his height intimidating. My heart raced as I watched him, unable to take my eyes off him. And he was still looking at me as he spoke up, “If you could excuse us, I’d like to speak to Miss Harold in privacy. It won’t take long, I promise. I’m only here today to familiarise myself with her.”
“Good, yes, Doctor, whatever you need.” My mother sounded reassured as she gripped Karina’s arm, yanking her out of the tea room as she seemingly didn’t want to go. Her eyes were fixed on Doctor Jeong, and her cheeks were blushed, “Would you like a cup of tea before we leave?”
“No, but thank you, Mrs. Harold.” The doctor hummed, his voice warm, as he sat across from me. He had no leather tool bag, nothing. He only carried a ragged satchel bag, a dark green with patches made to it, and it seemed mostly empty. My heart couldn’t settle down, not yet. Maybe his tools were hidden in the pockets of his long black coat. He hadn’t taken it off, and he looked like he wasn’t planning on staying for long. I couldn’t decide whether that thought reassured or unsettled me even more. Silence stretched on as we stared at each other, my throat dry, but I made no moves to drink from my fine China cup. I gulped when the doctor finally moved, reaching inside his bag. Here it came, the torture for the next hours, he was just like all those other doctors. I could feel tears prick at my eyes and my chest felt on fire, my lungs constricting, but the world seemed to stop moving when the man finally retracted his hand from inside his ragged bag. He held no tool to harm me, instead, a slightly withering daisy was gripped daintily between his long fingers.
“I plucked this for you on my way here, Miss Harold.” The doctor spoke, leaning forward to extend his hand towards me. A daisy, from a man like him. A man who felt like the sun itself, warming my cold particles, how unusual. When I did not move to take it from him, his happy expression seemed to fall slightly. Before he could feel more disappointment, I quickly leaned forward and grabbed it from his hand. Our fingertips brushed for a second and the doctor gulped, loudly. I loved wearing my copper hair in a simple bun, lined with fresh daisies. How coincidental that I had made myself a daisy crown just this morning, and now, the doctor had brought one for me. It would’ve been endearing if it was from a suitor, but I haven’t had one since I was sent to the asylum.
“Everything has a price, Doctor, what must I offer in exchange for this?” I found my voice, less shaky than I had expected. My insides were twisting in every possible direction, my heart hammering so fast it made me feel lightheaded. I wondered whether I’d remember the doctor tomorrow morning still. It wouldn’t be the first time I experienced sudden memory loss.
The doctor frowned, sitting back on the couch stiffly, “Perhaps, your honesty? Will you answer my questions?”
“Will you measure my head and poke at my skin like all those other doctors?”
“No, I’m not here to physically evaluate you. I’m here to glance inside your mind.”
“That unsettles me more than getting cut open to determine whether my blood is still red or not.”
“Had they done that to you?”
“Yes, you should rather ask what had they not done to me, Doctor Jeong.”
The doctor gulped, his dark eyebrows pulled together now and his lips downturned. He fished for something in his pocket, and a small pair of spectacles were placed low on his nose. It made him look more mature, more serious. I wondered if he wore it so that the other doctors would take him seriously, or whether because his eyesight wasn’t the best.
“I won’t cut you open, Miss Harold, I won’t even touch you during my examinations.” My heart skipped a beat despite hammering uncomfortably against my chest, and I wondered why. His words, however, did bring a little comfort.
“How will you determine what is wrong with me, then?” I raised my eyebrows, my fingers popping when I released the tension from them. I laid my palms flatly against my sage green dress, and the doctor’s eyes fleetingly glanced at them.
“By talking, by listening to your stories and thoughts.” The doctor spoke of a practice I hadn’t heard of before, “If you trust me, that is, your secrets will be safe with me.”
“Will they be?” I smiled, a little ashen, “The committee will want to hear what I said, there are no secrets we can keep with each other, Doctor Jeong.”
The doctor hummed, an almost amused smile pulling at his lips, “My profession requires me not to disclose anything personal, so, even if the committee wants to hear it, I won’t relay our conversations word for word, Miss Harold.”
I gulped, analysing the man’s face. He looked sincere, his eyebrows didn’t twitch and he wasn’t sweating despite the coat still around him. It was summer, and it was warm outside, albeit not inside the tea room, that is why the grand doors were opened to let the warmth in. This room reflected a lot about how I felt on the inside, always cold and hollow, waiting desperate for the warm sun to fill me up with its hotness until it burned me away. I wanted to burn, I wanted to be freed of all I had to endure until now.
“You need my honesty, but are you willing to be transparent with me?” My question seemed to take the doctor off guard as his eyes momentarily widened. Then, he clasped his long fingers together and placed his arms on his thighs, leaning forward in his seat.
“As long as it helps us move forward and remains professional, I can be transparent with you, Miss Harold.”
“You must’ve read the reports about me, do you think I’m mad, Doctor Jeong?”
“Isn’t everyone a little mad, Miss Harold?”
“I don’t know, you are the doctor between the two of us, Doctor Jeong.”
“Indeed, and I claim that nobody is without faults or sins.”
“Then you must be a religious person, no?”
“My profession contradicts my beliefs, yes, but I do believe there is something stronger and greater than us, Miss Harold. If we ask for forgiveness, we shall be pardoned.”
“Father Leon would love to have you at his service, Doctor Jeong.”
The doctor chuckled, a small smile settling over his lips as I realised I hadn’t looked away from the man since he had sat down on the couch. That was news. I never looked anyone in the eyes, as I didn’t feel comfortable. I had been told by previous doctors that they could see straight to my soul, my wicked mind and rottenness in the blueness of my irises. Now I never looked long enough to let them see what was inside my eyes, but this doctor didn’t seem to be afraid of me, of what he might find inside my eyes. Could he not see the darkness of my soul? Or was his faith so strong he preferred to spot the brightness before he was proven wrong by the wicked that permeated those like myself?
“Do you believe in God?” Doctor Jeong’s voice was louder than before, more filled with emotion as if my answer was crucial to him.
“I suppose I must. Everyone says the devil was the one to make me act like this, and I wonder where had God gone to let the devil do this to me.” Doctor Jeong’s cheeks became a darker colour as he licked his lips, mouth parting, but no words left it. I hummed, placing my right hand over my left one. Doctor Jeong wore one single band of silver ring on his middle finger on his right hand. He couldn’t have been married, then, I concluded.
“Perhaps you’ll find an answer to your question once I have done my job here.” Doctor Jeong’s tone caught a solemn note, but I said nothing as he grabbed his satchel bag and adjusted the collar of his white shirt. I watched the motion, eyes glued to the fair skin of his neck even as the man stood. His ears were flushing red too, I wondered why. I suppose the summer warmth had gotten to him at last.
“You are leaving already, doctor?” I asked as I looked up, standing when I realised he was about to depart. My mother had raised me with good manners, I would have even walked him to the front door if it weren’t for Karina suddenly barging inside, her jawline set tight as she sent me a fierce look of displeasure.
“Eager to have him all to yourself, sister?” Karina’s voice dripped with venom as she rushed further inside, rudely grabbing the doctor’s arm. What if he didn’t want to be touched? Karina lacked the awareness to consider that for a second. The doctor remained silent as he looked between me and Karina, and I just chuckled, looking down to the floor.
“I already have him all to myself, no need to be eager about it too.” The forced smile on Karina’s face would’ve satisfied me, but now I wanted both her and the doctor gone from my sight. My heart was racing again and I couldn’t breathe well, the tremors of my hands would’ve made me spill my tea if I were to drink from it. Perhaps Matilda could accompany me around the gardens, I wished to become one with nature for the remainder of the day.
“I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Harold.” Doctor Jeong bowed his head slightly before he let himself be dragged away by Karina, who sent me a glare that would’ve scared anyone else but me. I let them leave as I crumbled back onto the sofa, suddenly feeling faint. I couldn’t decide whether the doctor would pick my mind apart or not, and it was scarier that I had no idea how he’d do it.
The air felt oppressive and thick, yet I could see the doctor’s motorcar approaching in the distance. Matilda had been kind enough to accompany me on my walk around the gardens, but she had rushed me back inside the tea room when my mother sent a butler to alert us that the doctor was fast approaching. Now, sitting on a chair by the open grand doors, I could see the dark clouds gathering around in the distance. It was as if they were trying to chase the doctor away, but he kept approaching until the motorcar's engine died down and his heavy footsteps echoed around the house. There was a knock at the door as my eyes watched a small white bird on a branch of a tree, my mind absent. The heavy footsteps approached further inside, and I turned my head to look up at the doctor.
“Hello, Miss Harold.” He said with an easy smile on his lips, holding his satchel bag in both hands. He didn’t wear a coat today, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His nape was sweaty as the top buttons were unbuttoned. The heat had finally gotten to him, it could get rather cruel in this part of the county.
“Hello, Doctor Jeong.” The smile came easily to my face. Despite only meeting him yesterday, my heart wasn’t racing like before. Perhaps it was the absence of his leather tool bag and the fact that the man was so young and innocent-looking. Before we could proceed, however, there was a knock at the door.
“Doctor Jeong,” Karina’s unmistakable voice called out with a shake to it, “Would you like some tea before you start your…examination?”
“The heat is already killing me, but thank you.” He declined with a gentle flick of his wrist, yet Karina lingered in the doorway. She was only looking at the doctor, her favourite dress ironed out and tightly cinched at the waist. I turned in my seat and watched her with amusement. She wasn’t subtle at all.
“May I help you?” The doctor asked, sounding confused as Karina stood still and slightly jumped, looking down abashed.
“No, I’m sorry.” Then she finally departed, closing the door behind her as Doctor Jeong had asked. I slowly looked up at the handsome doctor, finding his eyes with ease as his spectacles were close to slipping off his nose again.
“Won’t you sit, Doctor?” I pointed towards the chair, which was placed a decent distance away from mine, just by the other door. The breeze had picked up into a strong wind now, it blew inside and rattled the sheer curtains. I welcomed it with closed eyes while the doctor settled in, the rustling of paper caught my attention as I slowly fluttered my eyes open once again. It was silent for a second as I looked at the doctor, who was already watching me. His pouty lips were parted and his ears seemed to be red. As my eyes travelled all over his fair skin, I noticed the glint of something silver underneath his white shirt. It appeared to be a necklace, and once he leaned forward to retrieve a pencil from his satchel bag, I spotted a silver cross hanging off it. He really was a believer, then.
“Did you want to sit here?” The doctor asked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. I hummed, clasping my hands together in my lap as the tremors slightly subsided. My heart was at ease, it finally wasn’t frantic like during breakfast and my walk in the gardens.
“Yes, I find nature most beautiful during this time,” I answered the doctor, turning my head to gaze at the white hydrangeas. Their scent was so strong I could almost taste it in my mouth.
“So, you like storms, Miss Harold?” The doctor asked and I chuckled, turning my head away when there was lightning in the distance.
“No, doctor, I’m terrified of storms.” I smiled as the doctor paused, he was jotting down my words in his notebook, I came to realise. He quirked an eyebrow, so I continued, “My father died saving me after I had fallen off the ship, the storm was terrible.”
The doctor hummed, his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he quickly noted what I had just said, “Are you afraid of water, then?”
“No,” I shook my head, our eyes meeting and staying locked as if we had been hypnotised by each other, “I’m only afraid of the destruction a storm can cause, even on land.”
“Have you seen many of those?”
“Yes, our neighbours’ barn was destroyed just last month, it was terrible.”
“Have you helped him?”
“As much as a woman can help, yes, I offered them my servants to help rebuild the barn.”
“Then you’re caring.”
“I suppose, if you say so, Doctor.”
“Do you not consider yourself a caring person, Miss Harold?” I smiled, watching the doctor’s expression even out as his pencil pressed a hole into the thin paper of his notebook.
“As a doctor, do you care for your patients?” I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious since I hadn’t met anyone like him. If he dissected the mind, he must care for his patients, no?
“Within the limitations of my oath and law, yes, I do care for them.” Then the doctor seemed to consider his next words, licking his lips as his eyes bore into mine. They were wide and dark, and it was easy to get lost in them, “All I wish is to do is find a cure for them, to see them walk free of their shackles.”
“Can you cure madness, Doctor Jeong?” My voice sounded small, almost afraid. The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed as he averted his eyes, messily scribbling something down in his notebook. As I peeked at it, I realised the alphabet I was familiar with blended with one I did not know. Perhaps it was his mother tongue, then.
“Every person has a trigger, Miss Harold, if I find yours, I can cure it.” Then, he bit his bottom lip, and the added words were silent, “If you’ll let me.”
Silence stretched on, and I felt my heart race for the first time since I had seen the doctor today. It was unsettling, I felt my cheeks warm up. The redness from the doctor’s ears seemed to spread down towards his neck and chest, I wondered if his skin was as smooth as it looked at first glance. Then, without considering my next words, I let the truth slip past my chapped lips.
“I want to be free, sir, I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life.” I had been young when I was convicted. My fate could have been much worse, but the men my father had been once acquittanced with owed him one, so they came to my aid. My sentence was very generous, the judge deemed me mad and unfit to be locked up in a women’s penitentiary, and instead, I was bound to constant surveillance for the rest of my life. Even when I slept, Matilda was there with me. Or my mother when the maid was too tired to continue keeping watch.
The doctor wetted his lips again, leaning slightly forward in his seat. The pencil was clutched tightly between his long fingers, and his tone had dropped lower too, “I can rid you of your burden if you’re honest with me, Miss Harold, I can set you free. But for that, you have to tell me everything that happened and made you do what you did.”
“Why won’t you say it, Doctor? Have you not read the reports? I was the talk of the whole town, still am, actually.”
“Something isn’t right about the reports, have you been truthful in your testimony?”
“Wouldn’t I be breaching the law if I wasn’t?”
“People lie all the time, Miss Harold.”
“May God forgive me for my sins, then, Doctor Jeong.”
A vein in the doctor’s forehead bulged as his jawline strained, mouth open but no words leaving his pretty lips. He huffed, then leaned back in the chair, eyebrows furrowing deeply as he wrote messily in the notebook once again. I smiled as I watched him, his black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down. His spectacles threatened to slide down his nose altogether, and I itched to fix it for him.
“Let’s start at the beginning, then, shall we?” The doctor’s tone had turned uncharacteristically soft as if he was talking to a frightened child. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked up once again and I gulped, feeling unsettled under his sudden undivided attention. His left palm pressed into the side of his thigh, his fingers tapping his black slacks rhythmically. I gulped, then nodded.
“What would you like to know about me, Doctor Jeong?”
“Tell me about your childhood. Your likes and dislikes, who is most dear to you and why. Have you loved before? Do you feel lonely now? Just tell me everything that crosses your mind.”
He wanted to know everything about me. It felt unravelling, dangerous. He had said my secrets would remain with him, would he note them down in the language only he spoke? Or would he tell the committee right after he was finished with his examination? Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to gaze outside once again, my lungs deflating as I exhaled long and loud. The lightning was closer now, the little birds were nowhere to be seen. Something coiled in my guts as my father’s face flashed behind my eyes, his warm smile and his kind tone still so present in my mind. If he were still here, perhaps nothing would’ve happened. There would be no Karina and Mr. Brooks, I wouldn’t be condemned for life.
“Much like I am afraid of storms, Doctor Jeong, I’m afraid of solace. It hadn’t always been like this, while my father was alive, I had never felt alone for even a second. He’d take me to the woods on horseback, we’d pluck flowers for my mother and he’d teach me everything he knew about the fauna and the poisonous mushrooms. He’d read stories for me before bedtime, and he had even taught me how to read. He was my favourite person, now it’s my mother and Matilda. She’s a young maid, we had found her hiding in the stable last winter. She was almost frozen to death, I thought I might be giving her a second chance at life if I took her in as my personal maid. She doesn’t speak much and I can’t tell whether she hates me or not, but I know she loves it when I take her on walks in the garden. I think she’s a little bit like me. Out there, in nature, we can both pretend to be free, just two girls roaming between flowers and giggling about the future.” The doctor’s hand seemed to be moving with my words, it was as if he tried to capture and note down everything I said. For that sole reason, I didn’t speak quickly, I let the words settle both in his mind and on his paper.
“I suppose my childhood isn’t anything special, I come from an aristocratic family, you must imagine what it was like. I was raised to have good manners and bow in front of men, but not without having an opinion and a mouth to voice them with. My father had been a fair man, he and my mother had always made every decision together, so he raised me to find a man who sees me as his equal and his other half. There had been moments when I had rebelled, I think that is only normal, but I was never a moody or explosive child. You can ask my mother about that, she’ll tell you so too.” I said as the doctor nodded along to my words, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I took a deep breath and watched his face as I continued talking, “There was only one thing I loved as much as I loved my father, and it was ballet. But that, too, was taken away after I was admitted to the asylum. Ever since then, I haven’t touched my pointe shoes. I had even asked Matilda to hide them deep inside my closet, my heart breaks anytime I catch a glimpse of them.”
A lump formed in my throat just from speaking about it, I could feel tears in my eyes as I watched the tree branches move violently with the strong wind. The willow tree looked gorgeous in the wake of the storm, and I wished nothing but to step under it and close my eyes, let the wind destroy my bun and rip the fresh daisies out of my hair. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dark flashes of memories I had tried to forget so badly. The asylum was a cursed place, filled with evil people who only caused more harm. I hated it and everyone that was associated with it. I could feel the doctor’s eyes on me, and he gulped, inhaling sharply. I glanced at him, and he looked amazed for some reason.
“Can you tell me about the asylum, Miss Harold?” My muscles tensed despite the doctor’s soft tone, and my heart started racing painfully in my chest. I thought wringing my fingers tighter together would stop the tremors from worsening, but it didn’t. I felt lightheaded as my own shrill screams echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t speak. My bottom lip shook as I took a breath through my mouth, and shook my head frantically, “Alright, it’s alright, Miss Harold. We won’t speak of it, take deep breaths.”
The doctor leaned forward in his seat and I rigidly turned to face him, my eyes wide in fear as I waited for him to strike. Maybe his mask would finally slip, maybe the tools were hidden inside his satchel bag. The notebook, his scribbling, my stories…maybe they were all just distractions. And yet, the doctor’s eyes remained kind and ridden with worry as he seemed to breathe through his mouth as well, as if he was mirroring my actions. I closed my eyes as the first thunder shook the ground, and inhaled deeply, keeping the air in my lungs until I couldn’t no more. I released the shuddered breath and opened my eyes again, only to see the doctor gulp, loudly. His pupils were dilated and made his eyes seem completely black, his fair cheeks flushed deeply as his long fingers tightened around his pencil once again.
“Perhaps we should end the examination here, Doctor Jeong.” My voice was strained as I gulped around nothing, “The storm is here. You should head home before it worsens.”
As if nature had agreed with me, the air filled with electricity as lightning struck not far away, the thunder loud and following shortly after. Doctor Jeong’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, humming approvingly. He swiped his bottom lip with his thumb before he grabbed his satchel bag, adjusting his spectacles as they did slip off the slope of his nose. Thunder wracked the earth again as a colder breeze billowed past us, ruffling my dress and the hair that had fallen out of my bun. It also moved Doctor Jeong’s messy hair, jelled back and out of his eyes in an attempt to make him look classy. As the doctor stood, slipping the notebook inside his satchel bag too, I mirrored him, smoothing down my dress.
“I call what we do here sessions, Miss Harold, and not examination.” The smile was easy on his lips and I hummed, flinching when the wind slammed the grand door of the tea room against the wall. Perhaps it was time to close them, “I shall see you tomorrow?”
“Of course, Doctor Jeong, please take care on your way home.” My eyebrows furrowed in worry as Doctor Jeong nodded, opening his mouth to say something just as the door to the tea room was yanked open. The man in the doorway was unfamiliar, but he looked worried.
“Mr Jeong, we should go now if we don’t want to be stranded somewhere on the road during the storm.” He must be the doctor’s driver, then. My mother appeared behind the driver, looking as worried as if the doctor was her own child.
“We have guest rooms, Doctor, you could always stay.” My mother was a kind and loving woman, her intentions hardly questionable, “I would hate it if something were to happen to you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harold, but I shall be on my way.” Doctor Jeong smiled widely, then faced me once again, and bowed his head much like yesterday. Perhaps it was their custom to take farewell like that, so, I bowed back to him. The doctor’s eyes widened for a second before his smile widened just slightly, and then he and his diver were gone, my mother’s expression was worried as she watched them leave from the front porch. Big droplets of water started falling from the dark clouds, and I quickly closed the grand doors as Matilda rushed inside to assist me. The rhythmic fall of the rain was a glaring reminder of my irregularly fast heartbeat.
The eyes were windows to one’s soul, or so Yunho had been taught. He had dealt with many cases during his practice period, and now as a certified psychiatrist, he had gained even more popularity in the West. He had no choice but to move at a young age, the world was an ever-changing place. He was young and curious, he wished to explore and find people that needed his expertise. But there was something so mesmerising about her eyes which left him unravelled and flustered like nothing else. Her words dripped with honey, and Yunho could swear he heard angels singing, accompanying her soft tone whenever she told stories. He was captivated. He ached to write down every single word she uttered, he felt desperate to pick apart her brain, to look inside it, to fix her. He was desperate to understand what had triggered her manic episode, he was desperate to tell the committee that she was innocent. But he was a doctor first and foremost, and his job forbade him from any personal attachment towards his patients. But whenever he looked into her icy blue eyes, the breeze brushing the fallen copper strands of her hair against her sun-kissed cheeks, he felt his very own soul stir and reach out in desperation to connect with hers, to possess it. She was a madwoman, and he was a man desperate to stay sane in her company.
Another thing I completely wished to be free of was dinners, where I was forced to sit with my so-called happy family. The bags under Mr Brooks's eyes had been getting darker and darker lately, and the creases in his forehead were an obvious sign that something was worrying him. But it wasn’t my place to ask questions, so I continued to silently notice the small changes in his mood and behaviour. He had stopped pampering Karina, which was completely unheard of, and she was loud and clear with her complaints. She had wanted a silk nightgown just last week, but her father had denied her of it. He didn’t mention the cause, he only said she already has more than enough nightgowns. The clinking of silverware gave me something to focus on as my eyes were cast on the brussels sprouts on my plate, pushing around it as I didn’t enjoy their bitter taste. But Mrs Humphrey had cooked dinner with love, so I didn’t want to leave anything on my plate tonight. The silence around the table was broken as my mother grabbed her glass of wine, her kind eyes settling on me.
“Y/N, my dear, how are your examinations going?” I paused, feeling everyone’s eyes in the dining room on me. I gulped down the food I had in my mouth and tapped with a napkin at my lips, letting my hands fall in my lap as I hummed. Doctor Jeong’s words rang clearly in my mind, what we were doing was called sessions.
“They are called sessions, ‘ma, and they are going well,” I spoke gently, hoping she’d find my words reassuring. I knew she was constantly worrying about me, always fussing and around thinking I wouldn’t notice. I might be absent-minded a lot these days, but I’m mostly aware of my surroundings still. Mr Brooks nodded once, looking pleased as he wolfed down the steak Mrs Humphrey had made to be spicey, just like Mr Brooks liked it.
“That is lovely to hear,” My mother beamed at me, meanwhile Karina scoffed under her breath, “Do you find communication with the doctor difficult, perhaps? Or is everything clear between you two?”
Mr. Brooks nodded along, one eyebrow raised as he watched me curiously. I adjusted myself in my chair and plastered on a little smile, “Doctor Jeong is well-versed and rather attentive. He notes down everything I say in his notebook, and meanwhile, I have noticed he scribbles along in his mother tongue as well, I find no difficulties understanding him. He’s coherent and speaks English as if he was born around here.”
“That’s a very reassuring thing to hear, my dear.” Mr Brooks spoke up with a smile, the corners of his lips tugging up. Karina’s jawline was set tight as she let her fork clamper down loudly against her plate, her eyebrows raised mockingly.
“Why are we letting her spend time alone with that doctor, again? How is that helping her?” Her tone was high-pitched, filled with blatant jealousy that Mr Brooks and my mother remained oblivious to.
“Sweetheart, we’ve discussed this already,” Mr Brooks said with a tired sigh, giving his daughter a disapproving look, “Y/N needs a new medical approach, and Doctor Jeong is the best in this field. He came all the way here from South Korea when he was still just an apprentice. I’ve read up on him, he’s solved cases of mass hysteria and other mental issues no doctor could even come close to. Let’s not have this conversation again, Karina.”
Mr Brooks was mostly calling me insane to my face, but his words held no malice and I knew his intentions were pure. I couldn’t resent him for wanting to find a cure for me, something that could finally fix me. He had no obligation to look out for me like this, I wasn’t his daughter by blood, yet he had only treated me with kindness and understanding my whole life. He was a good man, perhaps a bit too absent from the household, but I could see in his eyes that he loved my mother dearly, and that was more than enough for me to accept him into our home. He couldn’t replace my father, but he filled the void that sometimes got too much.
“I think she just needs attention,” Karina hissed under her breath as she slammed her fist on the table, making the maids behind her jump, “What are you waiting for, stupid cunts?! My glass is empty!”
“Karina,” My mother muttered, her eyebrows pulled together as she gave her a displeased look while the poor maid scurried to fill Karina’s glass with wine, “A lady shouldn’t use such vulgar language, nonetheless in front of her elders.”
“Yeah, whatever Mrs Harold.” She scoffed as she glared at the maid, taking big gulps of her wine. I watched with distaste, catching Leia’s gaze for a split second. Her eyes were tear-filled and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from speaking up, it would only start an argument I didn’t have the mental capacity for right now. But Karina wasn’t done as her sharp gaze fell on me, her tone harsh when she spoke again, “I know you enjoy spending time with the doctor alone, it makes you fantasize, doesn’t it? You’re just playing with him like with everyone else around you, sister, aren’t you? How long do you reckon until you get him riled up enough to get underneath your skirts—”
“Karina!” Mr Brooks's voice was loud and stern, his eyes set on his daughter with disgust in them, “How dare you say such things to your sister? In front of me and her mother, nonetheless! You should be ashamed, is this who I raised you to be?!”
Karina chuckled, humourless, “Right, father, you didn’t raise me at all, perhaps that is why I am like this. Maybe you shouldn’t have admitted mother into an asylum because she didn’t know how to silence a crying baby, hm?”
The silence that settled over the table made my skin crawl. If anyone would’ve dropped a pin, everyone could’ve heard it in the dining room. I released a shaky breath, the tremors worsening as Mr Brooks seemed to be struggling with containing his rage in front of my mother. Her mouth was open and a hand pressed against it, eyes shaking with pain and incredulity as she looked between Karina and her second husband. I took a deep breath and pushed my chair back, grabbing my plate to try and stabilise myself, to stay in the present. Eyes fell on me, and before Leia could come to approach me, I shook my head with a small smile, “I’ll let Mrs Humphrey know she outdid herself once again, then I will be retreating for bed. Matilda will accompany me, sleep well tonight, mother.”
As I left the dining room, I heard Mr Brooks weakly whisper a good night, then Karina’s sobs as she raced up the stairs, slamming the door to her room loudly. The chatter and good mood died down the second the kitchen door swung open, Leia following inside after me. Mrs Humphrey looked concerned when she noticed me holding my plate and went to stand up and take it from me, but I quickly shook my head.
“No, stay seated, Mrs Humphrey, dinner is absolutely delicious.” I said with a smile, and the other servants and maids seemed to relax as well, “Would you mind…if I finished my dinner here, with you?”
“Oh, come here, my dear.” Mrs Humphrey’s frown was deep as she beckoned me over, making space for me between herself and our butler, Jesper. He was still a young boy, his eyes filled with a youthful spark, full of life and happiness. He offered me a small smile and placed mushrooms filled with cheese on my plate, knowing I loved them. I chuckled and thanked him, then looked over the table and realised I felt most comfortable when around these people. They were simple, they were happy, and they made the most of their days. They were free, away from society’s judgemental eyes, and they lacked the prejudice the other aristocrats hadn’t even tried to hide around me. I felt like I belonged at this table, and as the happy chatter picked up again and Jesper made small talk with me, with Carla eagerly interjecting sometimes, I could feel my tense muscles relax and the void in my chest disappear. For a little while only, while I was still at this table, enjoying my dinner with the people who looked at me as if I was just a human too.
The doctor was quickly growing on me. I couldn’t trust him, not yet, it would be too soon. It’s been only a week since he started visiting me for our sessions, but I started believing that he wasn’t playing a character when around me. He was genuine, his eyes sparkled curiously with each question he asked, his frown was always worried and it downturned his pretty pouty lips, and when he smiled, something warm seemed to flood my chest. I could only compare it to the sun, for I have never felt such warmth when gazing upon a man before. Not even when suitors were lining up in front of our house, asking for a chance at marrying me. The doctor was considerate and kind, he hung on to my every word. It was his profession, I knew he was only doing his job, but I couldn’t help but imagine he was a man interested in me, his notebooks filled with poems and sketches of me. It was a far-fetched fantasy, but it managed to warm my cheeks anytime I dwelled on it.
I was out in the back garden as I found myself thinking about the doctor again, excited to see him today as well. We had left off at a rather culminating point of my story yesterday, I wondered if he was as eager as I was to hear the rest of it. Matilda wasn’t feeling well today, and as my mother was in town, Carla was the one supervising me. I didn’t mind the change, she was a chatty girl and easily kept me from detaching from reality. Here, in the garden, as I thumbed at the leaves of the flowers, Carla was still speaking about an encounter with a fairy. A supposed fairy as she believed in God and deemed the little creatures spawns of evil.
“Tell me, young miss, do you believe it was Satan sending those fairies my way?” Carla’s voice was full of wonder, “Have I done something bad to attract his attention to me?”
“I don’t believe so, Carla.” I answered her quietly, my eyes following a bee as it flew from flower to flower, “You go to church every Sunday.”
“Perhaps I should go from now on every Wednesday and Sunday, too.” Carla huffed, hands on her hips as she tried avoiding the bee that was flying towards her. I chuckled, straightening up. The scent of the hydrangeas was familiar as I closed my eyes, inhaling it deeply into my lungs so that they would stay there for a long time.
“I don’t believe fairies are inherently evil, Carla.” I mused as the breeze brushed upon my cheeks, already flushed from the great heat. My dress was thin and simple, I couldn’t wear pompous dresses during summertime, they were too hot. I would often feel lightheaded from the strong sun, the thick dresses would only make me faint. The white fabric was soft against my skin, and the white ribbons brushed against my nape as my hair was pulled into two small buns at the base of my neck. I could’ve performed on stage looking like this, but even so much as looking at my pointe shoes would’ve hurt my soul. I didn’t let the memories resurface despite the sudden melancholia that wished to break through my emotions, “Fairies are small creatures that protect nature, maybe you had done something they didn’t approve of. Did you disrespect their land, perhaps? Or did you step on a flower they had blessed before? Fairies are territorial beings, and they are also quite vengeful. But if you ask Father Leon to bless you after service, I’m sure you’ll be just fine, Carla.”
The scoff that followed my words wasn’t coming from Carla. I didn’t open my eyes as I became aware of heavier footsteps approaching, I had completely missed the engine of his motorcar. I felt Karina stop behind me, but I turned my head towards the sun, basking in it. I couldn’t touch the celestial without burning to a crisp, but perhaps the one it had sent to me in human form was really here to save me. A clear of throat made me blink my eyes open, and I turned to look over my shoulder.
“If you have nothing else but fairies to talk about, then I don’t see why Doctor Jeong should entertain your madness any longer.” Karina’s eyes narrowed at me, “You belong in an asylum, sister.”
I smiled, a little amused, as an ugly grimace appeared on Carla’s face upon Karina’s comment. The maid made to open her mouth, which would’ve landed her in trouble, but the doctor beat her to it, “Thank you for walking me here, Miss Brooks. But I’d like to be left alone with Miss Harold, now.”
“Right,” Karina muttered, shooting me a jealous stare, “She gets to have you all to herself, as always.”
Then, she turned around and raised her skirt above her ankles to storm off. Carla nodded her head and followed after Karina, not in a hurry so that the woman wouldn’t pick a fight with Carla as well. The doctor sighed, pushing his small glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking a little bit bewildered. Then, he looked at me and the crease from his forehead disappeared. I was already smiling at him, my hands behind my back to hide the bad tremors. I had felt faint all day, but the doctor was here finally and I could finally take my first breath of fresh air of the day. I couldn’t help but smile widely at him, and watch as the flush from his ears quickly travelled down to his chest. Even more buttons of his loose white shirt were undone, the silver cross sitting against his chest now glinting under the sunlight. His trousers were high-waisted and the shirt was tucked neatly into it, a leather belt pulled around his waist. And there, in his right hand, was something white. I tilted my head in wonder as I looked at it, curious about what it was. The doctor liked bringing small gifts, mostly silly, but memorable.
“Hello, Doctor Jeong,” I spoke up, and the doctor released a loud breath.
“Hello, Miss Harold.” His voice shook slightly, then his fingers tightened around the strap of his satchel bag, “Here, I have something for you.”
Then he extended his right hand out towards me, and my eyes widened in surprise. I could tell the ballerina was made out of a napkin, I hadn’t seen anything like it before. My hands shook despite trying to ease the tremors, and my fingers hesitantly curled around the present as our skin brushed together. The doctor’s cheeks flushed rapidly, and I found myself unable to look into his warm eyes. I wondered if it was the heat that made our hands so clammy. I looked at the ballerina in my hands, melancholy overtaking me once again. I longed to dance around in the garden, Mrs Humphrey and my mother as my audience now that my father was gone, but it only brought back bad memories. I was too faint to twirl around now, my legs weren’t as strong as they once used to be. I would fall even before doing my first pirouette, it was depressing.
“How are you feeling today, Miss Harold?”
“Faint, but it’s from the heat, Doctor Jeong.”
We stood unmoving, our eyes boring into each other’s. I didn’t want to move to the tea room just yet, perhaps I longed to sit under the willow tree. The doctor made no moves, and so I said nothing about heading for the house. We were in eyesight if anyone were to look through the kitchen window, and we weren’t doing anything wrong.
“Thank you for the gift, Doctor Jeong, did you make it yourself?” I asked with round eyes, unable to keep the smile off my lips. The doctor flushed darker and averted his eyes, thumbing at his wet bottom lip.
“Yes, I thought it would cheer you up. I hope I wasn’t wrong.” His tone was tender and just a little hesitant, the doctor was almost cute like this.
“It did cheer me up, sir, I was thinking about ballet just now.” I paused, and waited for the doctor to look up into my eyes, “It seems you can already read my mind, I wonder how you do that.”
The doctor smiled, his forehead exposed as his dark strands were brushed away from his eyes, “We are making progress, then, reading your mind isn’t as easy as one might think.”
“And why is that?” I asked curiously, fiddling with the napkin in my hands.
“Because it’s very complex, you like to speak in riddles, and you evade most of my questions.” Then the doctor chuckled and I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes in embarrassment, “You’re cunning, but I’m good at catching all the little hidden messages.”
I grinned at the doctor’s words, my suspicions confirmed. I knew I could play around with him, he seemed like a very smart man. Hearing he could read between the lines was more than satisfying. My heart skipped a beat, but it didn’t start racing like before.
“Do you like hydrangeas, Doctor?”
“Their scent is too intense for my liking, but they are pretty flowers, Miss Harold.”
“They symbolise purity and gratitude, even vanity in some cases.”
“What do they mean in your case, then?”
“Gratitude, Doctor Jeong, towards you.” Our eyes met again as I looked away from the white flowers, a sudden calmness settling upon my racing thoughts, “I hope the end of my story will be satisfying to you.”
The doctor gulped, loudly, then motioned towards the house, “Would you like to continue inside? Did you remember something of importance, perhaps?”
“Can we sit under the willow tree?” I raised an eyebrow, “Mrs Humphrey can see us from the kitchen if that’s of worry to you.”
“Sure, if you’ll feel comfortable.” The doctor nodded, fishing for his notebook and pencil as I hummed, leading us down the pebbled path, the willow tree was just by the end of it. The territory the house resided on came with a small pond, I liked watching the still water while sitting by the trunk of the willow tree. The doctor followed after me quietly, and he watched me settle down into the green grass, dress splaying out around me. It had ridden slightly up, exposing my shins as I pulled them underneath myself. The doctor seemed to be frozen, eyes glued to where my legs had been just seconds ago. Then, he gulped loudly and settled down next to me. He sat a little closer compared to the usual distance between our chairs, but his presence was soothing. I smiled as I faced him, eyes falling on his long fingers as he got comfortable, opening his notebook to where we had left off yesterday.
“I don’t remember anything new, doctor, but we haven’t reached that part of the story yet.” I smiled, then turned my head to gaze out at the pond, “Would you like to hear what happens next?”
The doctor exhaled, “You told me this noble boy barged inside your house in the middle of the night? He must’ve been madly in love with you to do such a thing.”
I chuckled, eyes focusing on the dragonflies above the pond, “I suppose he was at one point, yes. But men are easily converted, I find love like my mother and father had once shared hard to find, doctor. Our love didn’t last long, but I’m getting ahead of myself. It was a cold spring evening and he had been visiting, drinking with Mr Brooks to ask for permission to marry me. My mother was present too, of course, but she couldn’t say much against Mr Brook’s words. In the end, the proposal was accepted and the man left, only to come barging inside hours later.”
“Why did he do that?”
“Because he was drunk, and because he had something to say.”
“Did you hear him out?”
I chuckled, facing the doctor. His eyes were wide as he was watching me, pencil pressing against the white paper, “Yes, I did hear him out, but his words made no sense. He said something about a lavished lifestyle and a farmhouse, and something about being happy together even in a later age, it was endearing but very inadequate.”
“So, what did you do, then?” The doctor wasn’t even writing down what I was saying, it made me chuckle. The corner of his lips lifted subconsciously, he looked amused too.
“Nothing, I just kicked him out and told him to come back when he’s sober. His drunken words meant nothing to me. I did not want to marry a man who made foolish confessions in an inebriated state of mind, besides, he was a gentleman. He should have known better than to barge inside a lady’s home well past midnight, no, Doctor Jeong?” I quirked an eyebrow, my question seemed to snap the doctor out of his staring. He cleared his throat and looked down at his notebook, pausing for a few seconds before he jotted something down. I couldn’t read it, it was in a foreign language.
“N-no—I mean, yes, Miss Harold. That was rather inappropriate of him, I must imagine the discomfort he had created for you.” He had barely finished his sentence when a giggle bubbled past my lips.
“On the contrary, Doctor Jeong.” I grinned, ducking my head down to hide my amusement as confusion crossed the doctor’s features, “It was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Mrs Humphrey, my mother, and I had stayed up for hours giggling about it afterwards. We even made jokes about it and Mrs Humphrey let us drink her very secret brew that tastes like flowers but could knock out even a sailor with just two jugs. I have no idea what it is, but it’s very strong.”
The doctor’s eyes were filled with awe as I laughed, memories of easier times never failing to bring me in a good mood. It would’ve been easier like this, if things stayed put and if Karina wouldn’t have meddled with everything. I have faced hardships before, but having the person I considered my sister to betray me had stung like none other. In the end, neither one of us got what we wanted, just a lot of animosity and a tension-filled relationship. Sometimes I wanted to ask Karina if all of it was worth it, but I knew not to entertain an already greedy person.
“And how does this memory make you feel now?” Doctor Jeong’s tone was airy, and he wasn’t looking at me as he was scribbling in his notebook. I pondered for a second before I placed my hands on the grass, gripping it tightly between my fingers. Sometimes the tremors stopped when I grabbed something too hard.
“Bittersweet, but mostly happy. I’m grateful I was able to experience all of that at least once in my lifetime, others aren’t as lucky as I am. I am well aware of that.” The doctor nodded along as I spoke, but then he paused writing and looked at me with a frown.
“And when you think of that man? How does he make you feel, Miss Harold?” I gulped, not having expected that question. But it was easy to answer, I’ve pondered many times over this specific question, there wasn’t anything the doctor could surprise me with anymore. I smiled softly but knew the doctor could feel the shift in my mood.
“Mostly angry that I wasted years on that man when I could’ve found someone more decent, more loving.” Then I shrugged and watched as the doctor licked his lips, adjusting his spectacles on his nose, “Do you believe that God has everything planned for us, Doctor?”
“Mostly, yes, but we have enough free will to change the direction of our lives.” The doctor answered, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I hummed, plucking the grass from the ground forcefully. My knuckles ached from how hard I had gripped onto it.
“You can’t run from what is meant for you, Doctor Jeong, we would’ve never met if I wouldn’t have gone mad.” But Doctor Jeong didn’t seem to be too convinced by my words. He chewed on his bottom lip, sweat rolling down between his pecks. I gulped, then averted my eyes from his exposed fair skin, and instead focused on his beautiful round brown eyes, “Are you glad we got to meet?”
The man’s eyes widened at my forward question, but I meant no harm nor did I have questionable reasons to ask such a thing. The doctor cleared his throat, playing with the pencil in his hands as he thought his answer over, “I’ll be glad once you are back to being yourself, until then, I cannot allow myself to feel any sort of satisfaction.”
“Don’t you think my madness is part of me, now?” I muttered, gazing off towards the house. The curtain in the kitchen moved, but I knew it wasn’t Mrs Humphrey. She was out in town with my mother at this hour. Doctor Jeong inhaled sharply, then closed his notebook loudly. The paper made a noisy sound, making me look over to him. The man looked aggravated as if my question had bothered him immensely, but I was merely curious about how he viewed me.
“Perhaps we should continue tomorrow, Miss Harold, and we must proceed with the story. The committee is pressing me with questions, they are very curious to hear the full story.” The doctor was avoiding my question, that was unusual. He stood, brushed the dirt off his trousers, then hastily grabbed his satchel bag and clumsily placed the notebook and his pencil inside.
“Thank you for indulging with me, Doctor Jeong.” I looked up at him, and had to shield my eyes from the sun, “I love sitting under the willow tree.”
“I will keep that in mind, Miss Harold, have a nice afternoon.” The doctor then bowed his head and I mirrored his actions, then he was rushing back towards the house, looking a little rigid. Karina stood in the doorway to the tea room, a tray filled with cookies and lemonade in her hands, but Doctor Jeong merely nodded at her and left the house in haste. Karina’s glare could be felt even from the distance, and I gently stood to head back inside, keeping the arrangement in mind. I wasn’t supposed to be unsupervised, I knew Carla would be in the laundry room if she had nothing else to do.
Yunho couldn’t sleep. He kept reading over and over his notes, all the small hidden messages making his head ache. His stomach growled in hunger, but he was physically unable to stand from his study and ask the housekeeper to prepare dinner for him. The girl was frail, she was soft-spoken but witty. She liked to keep him on his toes, and she was great at making him lose track of what was most important. He felt like he was making no progress, yet the committee kept pressing him for an answer. Father Louis was understanding enough not to ambush him with questions daily, but the rest of the officials weren’t. They wanted a diagnosis of Miss Harold already, they didn’t want to understand that Yunho couldn’t give his verdict in anything but a week. Building trust took time, getting to hear the unfiltered truth from someone who loved to play with her words took patience. Yunho was a patient person, but he wondered how long he had until he’d break. Whenever he closed his eyes, he felt as if she was watching him, standing over him, smiling at him. Her skin was sun-kissed and sometimes her cheeks were burnt from staying out in the sun for too long, but Yunho knew her skin would be soft. When he had twisted and turned his napkin into shapes, absentmindedly, he realised he had made a ballerina out of it. Thus, he had made his first mistake as a professional. He had allowed himself to sympathise with Miss Harold. He had allowed himself to notice her smile was brighter than the sun itself, and that she smelled an awful lot like those hydrangeas that Yunho was allergic to. And he had allowed himself to notice the tremors of her hands, making him yearn to hold her frail hands between his with the hopes of soothing her nerves. Yunho wondered if she yearned for him like she had yearned for her once lover.
The clouds were almost black as they expanded over the horizon. The wind was too cold for us to keep the grand doors of the tea room open, so they remained closed as I sat on the soft sofa, gazing out through the glass. Matilda had left the curtains undrawn for me, and a few scented candles were lit to ease my muscles' tension. I couldn’t focus lately, these past three days my mood had quickly reclined. I know the doctor had noticed it too, but he didn’t prod more than it would be considered rude. I was reluctant to tell him the cause of my moroseness, he wasn’t here to listen to me weep about how unfairly Karina treated me. She had been ruthless these past three days. I knew she had a vendetta against me, but ever since the doctor started coming here, she had been progressively getting worse and worse. I could handle it until I couldn’t. If I ignored her and got lost in a deep spot in the back of my mind filled with happy memories, I would end up with a backhanded slap to my face. If I talked back and stood my ground, I would only fuel her fire, giving her power over me. Karina was clever, she knew when to strike. If my mother was around us, she was an angel. If the servants were watching, she’d be sharp and arrogant towards me. If Mr. Brooks was present, she didn’t bother hiding her disdain, but she wasn’t as straightforward as around the servants.
She didn’t hold back one bit if it was just the two of us. My eyes were lost on the gloomy visage, eyes tracking the swaying vines of the willow tree. It was even more beautiful in the eyes of the storm, I could’ve stared at it for hours on end. My mind was silent like this, absent of all the turbulent thoughts that shook me to my core and kept me up at night, when Matilda, poor girl, struggled to stay up and look over me. Just last night, she had fallen asleep, and I was grateful because I had a moment to myself where I could secretly slip away and walk through the gardens in hopes of clearing my mind. It wasn’t a smart decision, however, because I couldn’t remember anything after I stepped through the threshold of the house. I just know sometime later I was gasping for air as my arms were restricted and my throat was scratchy, Mr Brooks desperately trying to hold down my trashing body. My white nightgown was dirty with mud and the ends of it were dripping wet with pond water. It wasn’t foreign that I would lose consciousness if something lay heavily on my chest and gnawed at my thoughts, but it had been long since I had lost track of myself so deeply. Not since the incident, at least.
And Karina was enjoying it, her lips pulled into a nasty smirk as my mother cried by my side, asking Matilda and Leia to bring cold towels and help me clean up. Mr Brooks had looked tired as he gently helped me back to my room and tucked me into bed, his eyes pained and suffering as if I was blood-related to him. His expression made me feel guilty for worrying not just my mother, but also him. I felt terrible, yet I couldn’t control my mind or my body when these episodes happened. Even now, as I sat on the sofa waiting for the doctor to arrive, I felt lightheaded and on the brink of losing consciousness. My body felt light and heavy simultaneously, and I could feel my pulse in my neck. My lips felt chapped no matter how much tea I drank, and my throat was tight. I wanted to see the doctor, I needed to tell him why I had done what I had done. I had always been too afraid to confess the truth, not wanting to hurt my mother and break up the second family she cherished. But I also couldn’t continue living like this, not when Karina prayed for my downfall. Her harsh words from yesterday were still fresh in my mind, and I had to blink the tears away for a second.
“I know you’re just a whore, desperate to find another man to toy with.” She had spat with flushed cheeks, a cup filled halfway with wine in her hand, “Do you seriously think that doctor wants to touch you? You’re a deranged woman now, Y/N, nobody will want you. Not even Doctor Jeong Yunho, you whore. I won’t let you have him too, you always get what you want—but not this time, Y/N, mark my words.”
And just when I had thought she was done, she had marched up to me and grabbed me by the throat harshly, making me gasp, “If he doesn’t send you to an asylum, I will kill you myself, Y/N. You’re an abomination and a disgrace, even your own mother hates you, whore.”
The knock at the door startled me, I had been lost deep in thought. I turned my head and noticed Matilda giving me a small smile, “Young miss, the doctor is here to see you. Would you like me to prepare anything for you two?”
My heart skipped a beat, but I couldn’t tell why. Perhaps because I knew he’d take my mind off things, even if I was forced to relive the past I tried to bury deep down, sequences I couldn’t even remember anymore. Or, maybe, it was because I desperately wished to gaze upon his soft face, lose myself in his warm and round eyes peeking at me over his small spectacles. I couldn’t decide which was the reason, but I needed his presence to calm my turbulent mind and body finally.
“Thank you. I will welcome him inside, and you can take a break.” I stood up, hands balling into fists as nausea washed over me, “We won’t need anything, but I hope you get some sleep, Matilda. You’ve been watching over me for three days.”
“That is my duty, young miss.” Then she bowed her head before I could tell her she needed to take care of herself, and she took her leave. I smoothed down my long-sleeved dark blue dress now that the weather wasn’t as warm as days ago. I hadn’t pulled my hair into a bun today, even if it was not ladylike, I wished to feel my copper strands brushing against my cheeks when I moved my head. It shielded my face like a curtain if I didn’t want to be seen, I hoped Doctor Jeong wouldn’t mind.
Sucking in a deep breath and bracing myself, I left the tea room in search of the doctor, who should have been in the foyer, getting rid of his coat and dress shoes, but instead, he wasn’t there. I paused for a second to listen for his voice, and a smile pulled at my lips when I realised he was in the living room. Perhaps we could hold our session inside there today, I could play the piano and show him my favourite piece, if that, of course, was deemed fine by the doctor. As my fingers brushed against the wooden door, about to push it further open, I realised the doctor wasn’t alone. Karina’s sweet giggles flooded the room before she continued speaking.
“Surely, Doctor. I am pleased to hear you do not burn yourself out by coming here daily. I can only imagine how tiring it must be to listen to my sister, she’s rarely coherent. You must have noticed, given that you are a doctor, that she often has no idea where she is or who she is talking to. She tends to get lost in her own mind and blabber on about nonsense.” Karina then paused as my heart raced, my eyebrows furrowed in distaste, “She looks completely normal upon first glance, but it quickly becomes obvious she’s—well, she’s insane, you know?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Brooks, I cannot be discussing this with you.” Doctor Jeong’s voice was neutral, and cold, unlike the tone he used with me, “But as a licensed doctor, given that I am one, I can tell when her surroundings influence her mood, or why she is in a bad headspace.”
Karina scoffed, sounding a little offended, “Are you insinuating anything right now, Doctor Jeong? I don’t need a license to be able to tell that my sister is insane. How long until you realise she’s just trying to trap you here, twirl you up into her web of lies and fantasies? If you think you can help a mad person, Doctor, I fear you should seek help too. She’s beyond help, she’s desperate and pathetic, and as I have stated, she’s mad—”
“I am not mad!” Before I could stop myself, I let my anger take over me as I barged through the ajar room, “I am not insane, Karina, you’re always putting words in my mouth! Who has ruined everything I have ever had, huh?! You, you did, so don’t call me your sister. I am not your sister, and I will never be, you filthy skank!”
Karina gasped loudly, her hand flying up to her mouth. The doctor’s eyes had widened too, clearly taken aback by my outburst. I had been soft-spoken and kind in front of him, careful to not show anything he could incriminate me with in front of the committee. Karina had gotten what she wanted all this time, I suppose. Now, the doctor would make an early report that wasn’t favourable for me without even hearing the truth, or as much as I could remember of it. I gulped, feeling ashamed as tears filled my eyes, but I tried to keep myself from crying. Karina wailing like a banshee next to Doctor Jeong was more than humiliating enough to force me to keep myself in place.
“Enough,” The doctor snapped, his friendly and soft features morphing into something of anger and vexation. For a second, I thought it was directed towards me, but then he turned his head and his warm chocolate brown eyes fell on Karina, now sharp, “This is the last time I let you off the hook, Miss Brooks. If you don’t stop treating your sister so poorly, I will have to write you up on the board as the main suspect that causes Miss Harold’s turbulent manic episodes to occur, is that what you want? Do you wish to also be psychologically evaluated? I can do that, I can get one of my colleagues to come out here and question you, but you might be surprised to find yourself deemed insane too.”
Doctor Jeong’s words visibly shook Karina as she crumbled into an armchair, fingers sinking into her hair as she shook her head at the doctor, crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks pathetically. My heart was racing in my chest, the doctor was all I could see. His flushed cheeks from anger, his whitening knuckles around the strap of his satchel bag, his rapidly rising and falling chest—Jeong Yunho had stood up for me, taken my side. He was my doctor, he was supposed to look out for me, but he wasn’t obligated to protect me from claims that might be true. I didn’t feel insane, I never had, but Karina might still be right. Maybe I was a danger to society and Doctor Jeong hadn’t discovered why yet. It was only a matter of time until I exploded in his face, showing him my true colours. I had no idea what I was fully capable of, that part of my memory was still absent, but I could never forget the feeling of pure satisfaction and elation as I watched Karina lay on her back, gasping for air as blood trailed from her nose down to her mouth, chin, and then neck.
Doctor Jeong sighed loudly, his eyebrows furrowed as he licked his lips, shaking his head in almost disappointment at Karina. Then, he faced me and his features instantly softened. My heart raced again, and I hid my hands behind my back. Then, without many words, he came closer to me and nodded with his chin towards the stairs, “Would you mind if we skipped the tea room today, I’d like a more private setting.”
I gulped, feeling lightheaded once again, “No, the storm ruins the pretty visage either way.”
The doctor hummed as I turned around and took off towards the stairs, his strong footsteps loud behind me. My hands trembled as we ascended the creaky old stairs, my fingertips tracing the old railing. Doctor Jeong’s fingers were close to mine, tracing the same pattern as mine, so close yet so far away at the same time. I exhaled softly and tried to keep a clear head, but my nausea was getting worse as I led the way to my bedroom. My mother would’ve been outraged by the idea of leading a man inside my room, but this was the doctor, he was here to help. I couldn’t think of a more private room than my own bedroom, the heavy door closed and locked once we were inside. The doctor seemed to tense when he heard the lock, his back to me. I felt exposed, a little naked, now that the man was in my intimate space. There wasn’t much to my room except for a desk filled with books and poorly done sketches, and a vase filled with daisies and tulips. The doctor headed for my desk, meanwhile, I headed for my bed. The sheets were satin and silky as I lowered myself onto the edge of my bed, letting my hands sink into the fabric. With a questioning glance, the doctor turned my chair around to face me and sunk into it with a heavy sigh.
“I apologise.” My eyebrows rose in surprise as I tilted my head in question, “For letting your sister speak like that of you, I should have never let her go that far. I shouldn’t have even let her corner me like that and-and—it doesn’t matter. I understand if you need space after this, I might be able to convince the committee to give me a few more weeks.”
“She’s not my sister.” I whispered as I wrung my trembling fingers together, looking down in my lap, “Karina is not my blood sister, Doctor Jeong. I might have viewed her once as a sister, but not anymore.”
The doctor fumbled around for his notebook and pencil, which had gotten smaller from having sharpened it so often. The doctor’s eyebrows were furrowed as he pushed the spectacles up on the bridge of his perfect nose.
“Does this have to do anything with what happened on that day?” The doctor’s voice was gentle, understanding even. I bit my lower lip and nodded slowly, feeling my head swarm around uncontrollably. Would he know what to do with me if I were to pass out? He is a doctor, after all, but Matilda is the one who knows me best, perhaps I shouldn’t have locked the door.
“She-she really—hurt me that day, and I—” My throat felt dry as my lungs started heaving for air, “I don’t know—maybe I did want her to di-die—I can’t do this right now, Doctor Jeong, I’m sorry.”
Doctor Jeong’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he suddenly let his notebook rest on the desk behind him. He leaned forward, lowering his head as he tried to make eye contact with me. I gulped and kept my gaze focused on my tremor-ridden hands, “Listen to me, Miss Harold, we don’t have to talk about it today. I’m just here to chat, I can tell you are not feeling well. Your mother informed me through a letter that you had hurt yourself last night, may I know what happened? Can you tell me? I won’t even take notes, just this one time.”
I gulped, slowly raising my eyes to look up at the doctor. He wore a tight beige shirt today with a dark blue vest over it, his pants snugly fitting his long legs. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his fair and smooth skin, veins bulging through. The wristwatch on his left hand looked fancy, the leather a very dark blue to match his vest. Doctor Jeong’s dark hair was swept back once again, but it looked fluffier today. I itched to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, wanting to feel its softness for myself. I tensed my muscles before I could do anything stupid like that. The doctor’s cheeks were slightly flushed, and his tooth was leaving a small white dent in his bottom lip. Because he was leaning forward, there was less distance between us, but still respectable. Like between doctor and patient.
“I—” I chewed on my bottom lip before taking a deep breath, “I haven’t been feeling well lately, Doctor, so I couldn’t sleep last night. I went for a walk and…I don’t remember what I did or what happened. Sometimes I lose consciousness while I’m awake, it’s frightening. I woke up with a muddied nightgown and a cut on my arm, Matilda had patched me up though.”
“How often does this happen?”
“Not that often.”
“Do you have an idea what may cause it?
“Well, yes. I think it’s Karina, she’s been antagonising me for the past three days and I’m so tired of it all. I just disassociate when I see her approaching me now, I’m sorry.”
The doctor sighed, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. His spectacles had slipped lower once again, “Do not apologise, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just glad you’re alright, Miss Harold.”
“The thought of you visiting daily keeps me afloat, Doctor Jeong, I have something to look forward to now.” I smiled, widely, and the doctor’s eyes widened before he blinked rapidly, looking stunned. Afraid the moment of lightness would pass by before I could grasp it, I continued, “Would you mind telling me your story today? What it’s like where you are from? How you were as a child? Is that…is that unprofessional? Are we not allowed to speak about you, Doctor?”
Doctor Jeong’s gulp was loud, then he took a deep breath and slowly leaned back in his chair, his legs spreading wide. He looked conflicted for just one second, but upon a glance at my face, he gave in. I couldn’t help but beam at the doctor as he chuckled, taking his spectacles off to place them on the desk behind himself.
“Where should I even start?” He hummed, looking towards the window, lost in thought. He was gorgeous, and he was kind. I hadn’t met a man like him before, I wished to trace my fingers along his jawline, but Karina was right. I couldn’t be a whore, not with this man, “As a child I was energetic and always blabbering on about whatever was inside my mind. I liked to ask a lot of questions, but I was reprimanded often for being too curious. Life is…different in South Korea at this time, very much different compared to how things run here. I am lucky I managed to sail so far away, my family has made great sacrifices for me to end up here. I’m not even able to send them often letters, it’s too risky.”
“Why?”
“Because they are in hiding, our belief in God is frowned upon, Catholics aren’t safe there now.” To prove a point, Doctor Jeong grabbed the silver cross underneath his shirt and brought it forward, clutching it tightly in his hands, “I can bravely say it here despite the other religions that exist, nobody has tried to murder me for it, so far. Besides, I cannot tell whether they still live where we did before I managed to sneak onto a French ship and escape. The elite class isn’t like the one here, it’s falling apart and I cannot be sure that my family are still part of it today.”
My eyebrows furrowed as an ashen look crossed the doctor’s face, “Do you miss your home?”
“Yes and no,” The doctor answered truthfully, “I was young when I sailed here, I had nothing and no one until my foster father found me. He was a Dutchman, very kind but unforgiving. I got lucky because he was a doctor and I came here to study advanced medicine with the hopes of once returning home and spreading the word, but I cannot go back, not yet. They’d shun me away, shame me and possibly kill me. South Korea isn’t welcoming of strangers yet, and in their eyes, I’d be one too for leaving our homeland only to return with new doctrines. Even if it means saving hundreds of lives. Not that I work with the physical body, but everyone needs someone who can soothe their soul once in a while.”
“You’re beyond courageous, Doctor Jeong, I admire you.” I sounded breathless as I closely listened to the doctor, making sure no word he uttered slipped by my ears. I wanted to know more about him, who he was and why he chose to be here. I couldn’t imagine being on my own, out on the streets, away from my mother, “I promise not to waste your time here, I’m almost at the end of my story.”
“I know, Miss Harold,” Doctor Jeong smiled softly, “Rather an acquittance than your doctor, I’d like to tell you that I look forward to our sessions. You are easy to connect with, and you don’t make it hard for me to glimpse inside your mind. I cannot say I understand each choice you’ve made, but that’s the beauty of having free will and individual thoughts, it sets us apart and makes us unique.”
I couldn’t help but blush as I averted my gaze from his intense one, feeling shy all of a sudden. The doctor wasn’t calling me specifically unique, but the implication was there, and I couldn’t help myself but imagine, “What about your home? What was that like, Doctor Jeong? And your family?”
For a second, he was silent. It made me think I had offended him in some way, but then his eyebrows slightly furrowed and he looked serious, “Since I am not talking to you as your doctor, you should just call me Yunho, if I may…Y/N?”
Hearing my name fall from his lips had my heart racing and my breath shuddering. I gulped, feeling speechless for a second as my eyes bore into Doctor Jeong’s, wondering if the man knew what it meant to drop such drastic formalities. But I obliged because I wanted his name to roll off my own lips like mine had done on his, desperate to fortify this frail bond between the two of us, doctor and patient, “Right, of course…Yunho.”
Doctor Jeong’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, his gulp was loud. I watched redness coat his ears down to his neck, his fingers digging into the wooden armrests. He was still wearing the silver band around his middle finger, I wondered whose it was. Was it from someone back home? Or was it from his foster father?
“Right, Y/N, well my home certainly was smaller than your house, and also built with different architecture in mind. And people don’t wear these fancy suits at home, we have our own traditional clothes that we proudly wear. I still have the one I arrived in tucked away as a means to never forget where I come from.” Doctor Jeong—Yunho—smiled softly, eyes glazed over with memories as he spoke quietly, almost as if to himself, “I have a younger brother, he’s the loveliest. I didn’t want to leave him home, not even my father and mother, but we would’ve been discovered if we were to run away together. My mother sent me off sobbing, clutching me to her chest and wondering if we’d see each other ever again. My father was a stoic man, but he had cried too. He had enough faith in me and God to know I’d make it out alive and become what they sent me away for. I left a dear friend behind too, but he promised to follow me one day. I do not know if we’ll see each other, perhaps he’s wandering around on a completely different continent, but at least I have something of his with me.”
My eyes flickered towards the silver band Yunho was absentmindedly playing with, his lips set in a tight line. So, the ring was from someone he dearly loved and cherished, I wished I could reach out and pat his hand to offer him comfort. But Yunho’s solemn look switched into one of contentment as he looked at me again, “Our house was in a lovely neighbourhood, filled with silence and the chirping of birds each early morning. Our servants were few, so they lived with us, and they had quickly become part of the family too. I would play in the dirt with my brother when our mother was busy in the kitchen, overlooking the cooks while also helping out. Our father worked long hours but he always returned with fresh flowers for my mother and some sort of western delicacy nobody was allowed to know about. I would often take walks on the beach, if there’s anything I miss terribly, it’s the wide sea and the calmness it brought with itself.”
“I love sailing,” I muttered, tucking my hands underneath my thighs as I hummed, “Despite what’s happened to my father, I find solace in the sea. It silences my fears, much like taking walks in the garden does. I feel like I belong to nature, that I can easily become one with it.”
“Nature is a beautiful place,” Yunho hummed, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip, watching me closely, “You’d love exploring the world.”
I chuckled sadly, “I would, Yunho, but I’m forced to rot away in this house under the very eyes of my servants and family. I can’t even be left alone here, sometimes I want it all to stop. Tell me, have you travelled a lot?”
Yunho looked abashed as he shrugged one shoulder, “Enough to see all sorts of places, people, and cases. Not each one had a happy ending, but I had learned something from each of them, so it was worth it in the end.”
“I wish to see the world, Yunho. I don’t want to be caged in here anymore. Could you set me free—no, will you set me free, Yunho?”
“I—I’ll try, I really will, Y/N. If you tell me the truth, I can help you and write a promising report on your case. But you have to be transparent with me for that to happen.”
“What if they don’t agree with you? See me as unstable and a danger to society, what then? Will I require a caretaker still?”
“I’m afraid, yes. Perhaps you’ll have even more severe surveillance, I’m sorry. I truly promise to do my best, but you have to trust me.”
“And what if…what if you became my caretaker?”
The silence that followed my question felt heavy, it felt wrong. I shouldn’t have asked that, but I was desperate to know how far Doctor Jeong would go to prove I wasn’t insane. And perhaps, a hidden sadistic part of me wanted to know just what exactly the doctor would do for me, to me.
“That would imply you are very unstable, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.” Doctor Jeong breathed out, reaching for his spectacles.
“But would you become my caretaker?” I whispered, gazing up into his eyes with yearning as the doctor abruptly stood, “I wish to see the world, the places you go to. I wish to see South Korea once you’re allowed to go back, Yunho. Would you take me with you?”
He was packing his things frantically, breathing through his mouth loudly, “I cannot tell, Miss Harold, it implies great responsibility to look over someone unstable. Given if you were the object of my desires, I wouldn’t even consider becoming your caretaker, but I’m your doctor and it’s inappropriate.”
“Isn’t it only inappropriate if you make it that?” I stood, facing the doctor before he could run off. He looked conflicted and angry, so I backed off, “My apologies, I have taken you for granted and stepped over our boundaries as doctor and patient. I hope I haven’t made you too uncomfortable, Doctor Jeong, that’s not what I wished to do. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I will be back tomorrow, and you must tell me what happened, Miss Harold.” With a nod of his head, the doctor was at my door, quickly unlocking it, but he didn’t twist the knob right away. He took a deep breath and released it with a whisper, “And I would become your caretaker, if I could.”
His footsteps echoed through the house just as lightning struck in the distance. I walked to the window and watched the doctor get onto the motorcar as his butler drove away, trying to avoid the storm. And then, just like that, the world started spinning as blackness threatened to coat my vision.
�� My knuckles were bloody from having picked at the skin consistently since I was awake. The tremors from my hand have extended to my whole body, my head felt underwater. I couldn’t understand what was happening around me, but I jumped each time thunder rumbled the earth. I know I had been placed on a chair in front of the window in my bedroom, Matilda sitting in the corner with my mother regularly checking on me, but I couldn’t tell what was being said to me or done around me. I didn’t have an appetite this morning, and getting out of bed was harder than ever before. I knew something was wrong, that something had disturbed my peace of mind, but I had no idea what this sudden change in my mood meant. I tried to break through the veil of haziness and speak to Matilda, tell her that my head was throbbing and my joints ached from how wrung up my body was, but my lips formed no words. I tried using the breathing technique Mrs Humphrey had once taught me, but nothing was working. I wasn’t able to control my body, and it was only making me more anxious.
The door to my room opened, but I continued to look out the window absentmindedly, bracing myself for the loud rumble when lightning struck again. After the doctor left yesterday, it hadn’t stopped raining ever since. I knew he couldn’t make it today, but he was determined enough to push through the storm and visit me. Unless it was a serious issue that needed to be urgently taken care of, the doctor never cancelled our session. The thought of seeing him when I felt so unwell managed to calm my racing heart, but until he was actually standing in front of me and I could gaze into his deep eyes, I couldn’t help but take shallow breaths as my muscles tensed up even more.
“Look at you,” It was Karina’s voice unmistakably, “trembling and sweating like a dying child, aren’t you? Who are you acting for, hm? The doctor isn’t here, Y/N, no need to act all pitiful like this, nobody in this house cares about you.”
Her voice was crystal clear for some reason, it made my ears ring as I released a shuddering breath. My mind was so askew that I couldn’t even answer her, I just needed a warm embrace and a deep voice to whisper that everything was fine. Did nobody care about me? That was so depressing, it brought tears to my eyes.
“Besides, he’s not coming today.” I failed to inhale as Karina continued to speak, “He sent a letter to your mother that he couldn’t find a carriage in time, so he isn’t coming. How tragic, all this acting only for him to not witness it…”
The sound that left my mouth was quiet, but unmistakably a whimper. Matilda shifted in her armchair and cleared her throat. I could see Karina through the reflection of the window, she was smirking maliciously as she stared at the back of my head. She looked so pleased with herself, that it made tears stream down my cheeks. I wanted to say something, but the lump in my throat was getting tighter and tighter, I realised I had stopped breathing. Why wouldn’t Yunho come? Was he like Karina too, did he not care about me? Did he lie to me yesterday? Was I worth so little that he couldn’t take on being my caretaker? Why must this be my fate? Why must I be forced never to leave this estate, this house, trapped under the eyes of people who either hate me or pity me? I wanted to sob, but the more I tried to breathe, the quicker I realised dark spots had started appearing in my vision.
“I don’t know what you two do during your little sessions, but the committee has given him one more week before he has to make his final report,” Karina chuckled, I heard her coming closer, fingers gripping the back of my chair, “And then, he’ll be all mine. I already talked to my father and he considers Doctor Jeong a nice suitor, how exciting. You can’t have him, Y/N, and he won’t have you either. I see the way you look at him, you are pathetic.”
Karina’s warm breath fanned my ear and cheek as she whispered her last words, cackling like an evil witch in all those fairytales my mother had told me about. My mouth parted to inhale deeply, but the spots grew darker, becoming more.
“Miss Brooks, please,” I heard Matilda plead as she sprung up from her seat, “Leave young miss alone, she isn’t feeling well.”
“Oh, shut up, you silly goose!” Karina snapped at Matilda, throwing her a disgusted look, “You and everyone else who feeds into her delusions should be admitted to an asylum, get a grip! She’s fine, she just needs her daily dose of attention, stupid girl.”
Hearing the word asylum cracked something further inside me as I sprung up from my seat, eyes wide and body cold. I looked at where Matilda was standing, but all I could see was the face of the man who found great pleasure in cutting me open just to leave me bleeding and helpless. A scream tried to tear through my throat, but I lost my balance as I tumbled to the floor, fingers digging into the floorboards painfully. Someone shrieked as my stomach heaved, but there was nothing to empty. I could hear the man’s words, his tone unbearable and scratchy as he told me I was worthless and a whore, hungry for male attention ever since my father had died. It made my skin crawl, it made me feel dirty and disgusting as I tried to scrape at my arms.
“Mrs Harold!” I could hear the panicked screams, but I couldn’t tell where I was anymore. I felt caged and in danger, like someone was leering over my shoulder, waiting for me to pass out so I could be targeted. I whimpered when I felt hands on my back and tried to slap them away, but I was forcefully hauled up to my feet. A wail finally tore through my lips, and I started trashing around when I felt myself being lifted off the floor and carried somewhere.
“No! No, stop!” I screamed, my voice nothing but a screech as my nails sunk into whoever was carrying me, “Don’t take me back there! I haven’t done anything, please! No—no! I didn’t mean to—I don’t know—wait, no, please, I’m sorry, stop!”
My body sunk into something very soft and warm as fingertips pressed into my skin, forcefully prying my eyes wide open. My lungs heaved for air as I tried to get away from whoever was touching me, but I couldn’t, they were stronger. They were always stronger, I could never get away. They would never leave me alone, I was always their little experiment. They would cut me open as if I was a rat, they would ask me questions and whip me even if I told the truth, they liked to touch me and make me beg for them to stop…I wanted to die. I couldn’t do this anymore. Why would they torture me like this? Did my mother not love me? Had my father’s ghost abandoned me?
“Please.” I managed to whisper when my body finally froze up, all fight leaving it. My muscles and joints ached, my heart thumped wildly, and I couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore.
“My baby, please, stop.” A female voice pleaded above me, “Nobody is hurting you, tell me what’s wrong, baby. I’m here, your mother is here, please.”
How could my mother be here? The asylum didn’t let anyone visit us. My eyes burned when I opened them, but I couldn’t see well, they were filled with tears. There, looming above me stood the one man I yearned for. His eyes were kind and brown like the most expensive Swiss chocolate, his skin fair with a rosy flush to his cheeks that made him endearing, small spectacles slipping down the perfect slope of his petite nose. The doctor was here.
“Yunho, save me.” My voice was barely audible as I croaked out my words, but I noticed my mother’s eyes widening before I drifted off to the darkness that had come to claim my body. Here, nobody could hurt me.
But even in my dreams, the miscreants wouldn’t leave me alone. I couldn’t tell where I was due to the darkness that enveloped me, but I felt frozen down to the bone. My summer dress did nothing to keep me warm, and the little friction to my arms only caused me to shiver more. I tried to call out to see if anyone was there with me, but my vocal cords wouldn’t even croak. My heart was racing and my eyes burned, I could tell I was in danger but I couldn’t see because of what. The impending doom I felt, however, said to me that I needed to run and that I needed to run now. So, I didn’t wait around as I grabbed the skirt of my dress and aimlessly took off, unable to see anything due to the permeating darkness. My feet hurt from all the little rocks that cut into it, and then something touched my cheek that made me cry out. It was warm, almost scorching hot against my frozen skin. There were whispers around me that I couldn’t make out, or understand even if I concentrated on them, but then one of them started making sense. It made more sense than the others, its timber familiar and warm, kind. Then, I could feel fingers tracing my left cheek, a calming hum easing my tense muscles until I could finally take a deep breath. It burned my lungs, it felt as if I was inhaling for the first time.
“Open your eyes, Miss Harold.” Then, just so that I only could hear it, the familiar voice whispered, “I’m here.”
A gasp tore through my lips as my eyes flew open, jolting me awake as I sat, frantically looking around. It was a lot darker in the room than the last time I was conscious, and the rain was hitting the roof of the house harder than before. Matilda, my mother, Mr Brooks, and Mrs Humphrey all stood at the foot of my bed, different emotions reigning on their faces. As I made eye contact with my mother, she let out a loud sob as she fell into Mr Brooks’ arms, and I felt my lower lip trembling. I hated seeing her in a state like that, worrying over me. Before I could cry too, my head was gently turned to the side until all I could see was the doctor. My mouth opened in shock as the doctor looked at me with sad, but worried, eyes, a wet rag clutched tightly in his other hand.
“Yunho.” My throat felt scratchy as I reached out incredulously, wondering whether I was just hallucinating. I noticed my bloody knuckles were bandaged now, ointment placed on the nightstand table next to my bed, “You are here? Really here?”
“Yes, Miss Harold.” He smiled gently, hesitantly letting me touch his jaw, “How are you feeling?”
“Sick,” I said before I could mule over my answer. My stomach was aching and my head was thumping, “I don’t know what happened to me, Doctor, I cannot remember.”
“Don’t try to remember now, your body and mind are overwhelmed,” Doctor Jeong then gently guided me to lay down in my bed once again, “You need to relax, Miss Harold. You fainted, and Miss Matilda has told me you haven’t eaten all day long, that’s unhealthy.”
“I’m sorry.” I felt like a child being chastised by their parent for the first time, except that Doctor Jeong’s face didn’t look even a little bit angry like my mother’s had back then, “I thought I would throw up if I ate anything, still do.”
The doctor hummed, then slightly turned to look back at the others in the room, “Mrs Humphrey, can you bring me that tea I asked you to brew? It will greatly help Miss Harold right now.”
“It’s storming outside, why did you come?” My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the doctor’s serene face, his spectacles were missing and his hair was a wavy mess on top of his head. Looking further down, I realised he wasn’t wearing his fancy suit. Instead, the doctor wore a beige tunic with the strings undone, showing a silver of his collarbones and chest. His silver cross dangled between his pecks whenever he moved forward to check for my temperature, letting the cold rag ease the thumping of my head. The doctor’s boots were still on his feet and looked muddy, but nobody was paying attention to that as he sat on the edge of my bed, taking care of me.
“I’m a doctor, my duty is to ensure my patients are healthy and safe.” Then he glanced back at my mother and Mr Brooks, Matilda had left the room with Mrs Humphrey, “You scared everyone, you scared me, Miss Harold.”
“Thank you for coming, but what you did was unsafe, Doctor Jeong.” I gulped, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “How will you get back home?”
“He will sleep here tonight, sweetheart.” Mr Brooks answered for the doctor, looking just as worried as I felt, “Can’t let him go out in this bad weather, it’s risky. I will ask the maids to make dinner for you, Doctor Jeong. The guestroom is already being prepared, your butler can sleep with the rest of the servants, if that is alright.”
“Yes, thank you for your hospitality.” Doctor Jeong bowed his head, smiling at Mr Brooks, “I’m sorry to say this, but Miss Harold should rest now and the more of us are in the room, the bigger the risk of overwhelming her is.”
“Oh, of course.” My mother whispered, her eyes glossy again, “Rest, my dear.”
I hummed as I watched her and Mr Brooks leave, leaving me alone with Doctor Jeong as the door closed after the two exited the room. I sighed long, looking at the doctor as he removed the rag from my forehead to wring it in more cold water. We said nothing as he placed the rag back onto my forehead, gently removing wet hair strands from my cheeks. He sat close to my body, but his eyes avoided looking into mine. I gulped, trying to find the right words to say just as there was a knock at the door. Doctor Jeong told them to come in and Matilda came inside with a tray and a cup of tea. She offered me a sad smile as she placed the cup of tea on the nightstand.
“Get some rest tonight, Matilda.”
“But you are not feeling well, young miss.”
“This is an order, how long until you faint from exhaustion? Please, I won’t leave my bed tonight, you shouldn’t either.” The maid looked hesitant, but didn’t say anything other than a quiet ‘thank you’, and then she was out of my room, closing the door after herself.
“Someone should check on you tonight, though.” Doctor Jeong said quietly as he helped me sit up, puffing up the pillows behind my back. He grabbed the cup of tea and handed it to me. It was still hot, its scent herbal. My nose twitched as I took a whiff of it before tasting it, cringing away from it, “It tastes horrible, I know, but it’s very good for your health. Drink it.”
It tasted so bitter I thought I would throw up on the spot, but it was supposed to make me feel better, so I toughened up and drank it as quickly as possible. The doctor watched me as I placed the cup on the nightstand, looking a little amused. I wrung my fingers together and placed them in my lap, looking down at my hands. I felt guilty for having forced the doctor to come all this way in such bad weather, yet he was looking at me with kind eyes and a soft smile.
“How do you feel now?” He asked, turning his body more to face me.
“Slightly better, my head isn’t thumping as violently as before, thank you.” I answered, sinking back into the pillows and cushions, “I think—this could be a grave accusation, but what if Karina is the reason I am like this?”
I couldn’t meet the doctor’s eyes as I chewed on my bottom lip, my thoughts whirling around too quickly for me to comprehend them. The doctor froze for a second, then I saw a hand reach out, only to settle on the blanket next to my thigh. I could feel Doctor Jeong’s body heat through the blanket, I wished he had placed his hand over my thigh instead.
“Why do you think that, Miss Harold?”
“May I call you Yunho?”
“Of course, Y/N.”
For a second, I paused and looked up with a smile. Yunho was already looking at me with a small smile on his lips, and I huffed a little embarrassed. Seeing him dressed so casually was doing something weird to me, my heart raced from excitement as I felt shy all of a sudden.
“Just like on that day, she was saying bad things to me again, antagonising me. I know she hates me, but I get so angry around her that sometimes I can’t even form words.” I gulped, eyebrows slightly furrowing as Yunho’s fingers twitched next to my thigh, “I wasn’t feeling well all day, but then she started speaking and I just—she brought the asylum up and I was back there again, being terrorised and touched—I can’t talk about it, I’m sorry, Yunho.”
“Let’s not talk about it, then.” Yunho’s jaw was clenched as he licked his lips, his forehead creasing as he leaned slightly forward.
“I don’t remember anything after that, even her words are muddy.” I felt helpless as my eyes bore into Yunho’s understanding ones, “Matilda was there the whole time, you can ask her what happened, I’m sure she’ll tell you everything. She hates Karina as much as I do, she wouldn’t lie for her.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Y/N.” Yunho nodded once, then tilted his head to the side. I gulped, feeling nervous for no reason, “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep tonight? Are you feeling tired?”
I hummed, playing around with my fingers as I looked down at my lap again. Yunho’s fingers were tapping the blanket, his breaths audible but even, “I feel spent, and I know I will be able to sleep, but I’m…scared to fall asleep alone.”
“I understand, I’ll let Mrs Harold know. Perhaps she could keep you company.”
“Yunho?”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”
My voice was quiet as I glanced up at Yunho through my eyelashes, feeling my cheeks heat up. He looked taken aback, then something I couldn’t recognise crossed his features for a split second. He exhaled through his mouth and gulped, loudly. He hummed, deep in his chest, and flattened his palm against the blanket as he shuffled his feet around until his muddy boots hit the ground. I realigned my pillows and crawled a little further away on my bed, to make more space for Yunho as he made himself comfortable, still on the edge of it.
“But I cannot stay once you are sleeping, I’m sorry.”
“I know, it’s alright, Yunho.”
Our smiles were small but appreciative. Yunho nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my face as I watched his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. It wasn’t warm in my room, but I suppose the sheets could make him feel warm too. His hand balled into a fist, grabbing a tight hold of the blanket as I glanced down at it.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”
“You too, Yunho.”
Every waking moment he spent thinking of her. Even in his dreams, she appears as a vixen, tempting Yunho to do unforgivable things. He knows he cannot, he’s her doctor and she’s a patient in desperate need of treatment. Yunho knows this, she isn’t his first case. He’s met people with manic episodes before, potential dissociative amnesia too, but something sets her apart from the rest. Yunho has never once in his life wanted to reach out and cradle one of his patients to his chest and tell them everything would be alright now that he was there. But when he saw her, so frail and generous, soft-spoken and kind, he couldn’t help but feel anger whenever she told him of Karina. Yunho had a feeling she wasn’t like that unprovoked, and the more he heard of Karina and her schemes against his patient, the more convinced he was that Karina had lied in the first place to get her into that asylum, far away from the safety of her home. Yunho knew what went down inside an asylum, he’s treated many mentally unstable patients before, straight inside those horror houses, and his blood boiled anytime he saw pain and terror strike upon her face whenever the asylum was mentioned. Yunho didn’t want to know, truth be told, what had happened to her there because he was sure he’d march up to that asylum and strangle every man who had hurt her. He was a doctor, his ego and fame protected him from making a mistake, but when she had led him inside her bedroom, Yunho was close to throwing it all out the window, quite literally. Her unique scent of hydrangeas had been so potent inside her bedroom, and her sitting daintily on the cushions of her queen-sized bed had his thoughts going haywire. Yunho wanted to touch her, not just tell her that she was safe and sound with him, but show her too. He was wanting and wanting, and he wondered if her story would have a happy ending. Could he save her from the madness they plastered over her head? Or would he dig her a bigger hole once the committee hears his verdict of her mental state? But what Yunho most importantly needed to sort out with himself, was the question that’s been mulling over in his head ever since she had uttered it. Would he be willing to become her caretaker? Just to keep her safe and away from Karina, of course, Yunho was a professional, above all. He told himself he didn’t have second intentions with her, but the more days passed by spent in her company, he couldn’t tell for sure anymore.
Karina was right about one thing, the committee had given Doctor Jeong one more week to sort out everything. He was right, I couldn’t beat around the bush anymore, besides, we had gotten close in my story to that faithful day. Doctor Jeong knew this, I knew it too. Because he was afraid of overwhelming me again too soon, he had given me two days of bed rest before he’d return to resume our sessions. The two days had gone by and I was nervously waiting for him in the foyer. After the storm passed, the heat returned even stronger. I didn’t wish to stay in the house, it aggravated me anytime I glanced towards the stairs, Karina’s injured body lying by the foot of it too clear in my mind. The doctor’s patent motorcar was louder today than other days as it rolled to the front of the house, where he was welcomed by Mr Allen, the gardener. He was an elderly man who had grown fond of Doctor Jeong like many others in the household. Myself included, which would explain why my heart was beating uncontrollably once again, sweat brimming my eyebrows.
“Will you be alright?” Leia asked as she shuffled past behind me, fresh bedsheets in her arms, “I don’t think Matilda will survive one of your episodes.”
Leia had no mal-intentions, she was just honest down to a pulp. I chuckled, glancing at her as she had stopped in the doorway to the laundry room.
“I might not survive another episode, too.” Leia’s eyes widened guiltily, but I continued to smile, “If the doctor writes a good report about me, I’ll finally be out of your hair, Leia. Pray for it.”
“I don’t believe in God, young miss.”
“Don’t let Doctor Jeong know that.”
Speaking of the devil, his knuckles rasped against the sturdy front door as Leia grinned, disappearing inside the laundry room. I opened the door before the doctor could knock again, welcoming him with a bright smile on my face. He paused, looking taken aback.
“Good morning, Doctor Jeong.” I greeted him, stepping aside to let him walk inside.
“Good morning, Miss Harold, you seem to be doing fine.” He returned a small smile as he shrugged his blazer off, wearing another tunic but fancier this time. It was a deep green, paired with his brown trousers which made him look like he was a huntsman returning from a long hunt to his wife, jittery to have her in his arms. I gulped, feeling embarrassed by my thoughts when I realised, I had imagined myself as the wife Doctor Jeong would return home to. It was inappropriate, but the thought was intrusive and fast before I could stop it.
“Thank you for letting me rest, it has helped.” I hummed, raising a hand when the doctor went to step out of his polished shoes, “Do you mind if we sit underneath the willow tree today?”
“Not at all,” The doctor beamed, taking me off guard, “I was just about to suggest it, you know we cannot postpone today’s topic. Being in a place you love might bring comfort, I hope, at least.”
“You are thoughtful,” I smiled, then led the way towards the tea room, the grand doors were pulled open, letting inside the fresh warm breeze. Mr Allen was in the doorway, trimming the bushes, but he made way for us when he spotted us. I offered him an appreciative smile as he raised his hand in a silent greeting, a straw of wheat between his teeth as he tipped his hat towards Doctor Jeong. The doctor bowed back to him politely before we made our way down the gravel path, headed towards the willow tree. The warmth today made me feel hot despite the thin summer dress I wore, its sleeves short with a sweetheart neckline. It was a sage green, a pretty contrast against my copper curls. Without needing to ask, Matilda has made a daisy crown to wrap around my bun. I felt pretty and safe covered in my favourite things, sitting underneath the willow tree as frogs ribbited down by the pond, bees buzzing by. The doctor got ready as he opened his satchel bag, taking his notebook and new pencil out. As we sat, I noticed our thighs brushing together, the doctor’s now musky cologne invading my senses. When he placed his notebook on his left thigh, twisting his upper body to face mine, the pages of it brushed against my own thigh too.
“In our last session, you spoke about visiting your father’s grave with your mother. You made him a daisy crown since he loved the flowers just as much as you do, and then, when you returned home, your once lover was waiting for you in the foyer.” Doctor Jeong’s tone was gentle but impersonal, he was a professional after all, “You stopped after you said you were fighting and it got…violent? You must elaborate on that, did nobody hear it? Did nobody help?”
I sighed, picking at the grass, “It didn’t get violent in the sense of a physical altercation, but our words were harsh and unforgiving. He called me many names that day, he broke my heart, Doctor Jeong. I know you are curious about what was said, and because it leads up to what happened between Karina and me, I shall tell you.”
The doctor was jotting down my words in his notebook, his hand flying over the page. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he pushed at his spectacles with his other hand. He hummed and briefly glanced at me when I remained quiet for too long. I had to brace myself, so, I took a deep breath and gazed at the doctor instead of at the house, finding my nerves calmer if I gazed at his beautiful face, and his chocolate brown eyes whenever he held eye contact.
“Matthew, the man I had once loved, was my fiancé. He had asked for my hand while my father was still alive, our love story goes way back. We’ve grown up together due to our father’s being friends, and chancefully had fallen in love too. He was always sweet and loving, he respected me, and always heard me out. I suppose that is what attracted me to him most, I could see a glimpse of how my father treated my mother in him. But we had our ups and downs too, he was way too jealous and hated it when I spoke to other men, meanwhile, I had no problem if he had female friends. After my father died…it was hard for me to come to terms with it, I was sad every day for a very long time. I didn’t want to see anyone but my mother, not even Matthew. He knew I needed time, but he was getting impatient, he was bringing up marriage more often than not, but I wasn’t ready yet. I had just lost my father and the thought of not walking down the aisle with him by my side just hurt too much.” I paused and licked my lips, pulling my knees up to my chest as I felt the doctor shift and lean even closer, “And then as my mother and I healed together, she found Mr Brooks. It took them a while to settle down, paperwork and whatnot got in the way as well as people talking nasty behind their backs, but when I found out Mr Brooks had a daughter too, I felt hopeful. I thought I would finally find a true friend, someone to share everything with. Karina was lovely at first, very kind and funny, I could easily consider her my sister even if we weren’t related by blood. But then, one evening we went out to a pub where she finally met Matthew, and things just…changed.”
Doctor Jeong hummed, still writing as I let my eyes take in his focused expression. His forehead was creased slightly as he chewed on his bottom lip, his neck flushed from the heat. I had also shifted more into his space subconsciously, and I had to refrain from tracing his brows before sinking my fingers into his smooth-looking hair, “You see, it wasn’t Matthew who had changed, but Karina’s attitude towards me. She became snappy and rude, she didn’t make it obvious, but I knew she was looking down on me. She barely talked to me now when my mother and her father weren’t around, but she somehow always found time to ask about Matthew. At first, I thought nothing much of it, I figured she might’ve not liked him too much and was looking out for me in an obscure way, but then I found their letters. Mr Allen was bringing in the post and I told him I would sort them out, so when I saw Matthew’s letter, of course I had assumed it was for me…except, it hadn’t been. It was addressed to Karina, and there were all sort of weird questions about me as if whatever Karina had said before had upset him.”
“Has Karina been sending him letters behind your back?” Doctor Jeong looked confused as he looked up at me, his round eyes narrowed and void of kindness. When the doctor was this serious, he looked almost frightening. But I knew he was kind and caring underneath that mask, so I didn’t care. I hummed and nodded, absentmindedly picking at the scabs that had formed over my bruised knuckles.
“Yes, and she was lying to him, saying very ugly things about me. Still to this day, I don’t understand why she did all of that. Leia says she’s blinded by jealousy and wants to be better than me, but unless Karina says it, I don’t want to believe it. Anyways, I didn’t confront Karina right away, I hurried over to Matthew’s house to talk to him.” I huffed sadly, looking at the doctor again, “He was just about to mount his horse and leave for the city, but when he saw me, he knew we had to talk. It turns out, Karina has been lying about me for months now, saying I was seeing other men behind his back and somehow even made up some evidence of it. She had sent him handkerchiefs that had been my father’s, claiming they were of those I was—sleeping with. She even told him I was badmouthing him and that I was only marrying him out of pity, and because my father had made me promise I would marry someone richer than my family. But—it was all lies! I loved Matthew, I always have! I wanted to marry him and have a nice household, but Karina took it all away from me. What he said to me…it had hurt a lot, and it still does, so I won’t repeat his words, but he broke off our engagement and told me to never appear in front of his eyes. I had loved him, Yunho…”
My throat clenched as I took a shuddering breath, eyes filled with tears. Yunho had stopped writing and looked at me with pain in his eyes, bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m sorry, you deserved better.”
I hummed with a sad chuckle and quickly wiped my eyes before the tears could fall. This was it, this is what Yunho had been desperately wanting to hear for a month now. I lowered my legs and looked at Yunho with a neutral expression, making his eyes widen minutely, “I know, but it’s okay. If God is watching like everyone claims him to be, Karina will be punished, and so will Matthew. I was a mess after that conversation with Matthew, and I cried all the way back home. My chest was clenching and my heart was thumping wildly, I thought that was what heartbreak felt like, and I still believe so. When I stumbled through our front door, Karina was just…there. Waiting for me in the foyer with an amused smirk. She didn’t even feign innocence as she asked what happened, she could clearly see Matthew’s crumbled letter in my hand. I won’t deny it, I said some very ugly things to her. I didn’t even let her speak as I exploded on her, I’m still surprised the house staff didn’t try to stop me. I have said this in my report too, but I struck first, I slapped her and pushed her back when she started laughing. She was only doing it to make me even angrier, and it was working.”
My muscles tensed as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, keeping it in my lungs as Yunho’s jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on my face as I continued talking, “I needed space, so I backed away before I could do anything really hurtful. My head was thumping and my body was shaking, I felt like I was suffocating. Karina just continued laughing as I hurried to the stairs, wanting to lock myself in my room and cry myself to sleep. She was following after me, now cackling instead of laughing, and then she said something—something that I’ll never forget, ‘All that courting and playing around each other just to never even fuck him? Don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything, sister, he’s not even good in bed.’ I saw red when I heard her say that, my thoughts were a mess and I didn’t even doubt the accuracy of her words. I just reacted, I know I slapped her again as I stopped on the stairs, but I couldn’t say anything as I was close to sobbing, so I just ran up the rest of the stairs, but she was still following after me. She was saying something, and I was screaming at her to shut up, but she wouldn’t. And I—I just really wanted her to shut up, to not look at me with those eyes and I just—I don’t know, Doctor, I don’t know. My whole body was shaking and I couldn’t see clearly, my head was aching and I couldn’t even hear anymore, I just—I just remember suddenly coming to myself again when there was a shrill screech. And then I remember Matilda looking at me with terror in her eyes as she called for Jesper and Mr Allen to come help, to call for a doctor.”
“In your report, you said—”
“I know what I said, Yunho, I said I turned around and gave her a backhanded slap, yanked on her hair and bashed her head against the wall before pushing her down the stairs.” Yunho’s eyes were shaking as our faces were close, “But I don’t remember doing any of those, the lawyer told me to say that to protect myself from a serious accusation. Matilda lied for me, and so did Mr Allen. In the end, Mr Brooks paid the judge and I was simply classified as insane, the case was swept under the rug and I’ve been forced to live like this ever since.”
“I knew there was something wrong with that report,” Yunho muttered under his breath, “But why did you lie?”
“I was young and scared,” I sighed, my eyes searching Yunho’s face for any judgment, but it wasn’t there, “I thought they would lock me up if I didn’t make up a story. But in the end, I was locked up in my own house for six years, a prison still, just different. I fainted in the court too, I don’t remember much from there either.”
Yunho looked troubled as his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, his bottom lip thoroughly chewed on, and his spectacles pushed up on his nose. With his free hand, he reached forward, but stopped just before his fingertips could touch my hand and instead balled it up into a fist and lowered it back into his lap. His jaw clenched as he gulped, shaking his head as he looked down at his notebook.
“I have a scar on my abdomen,” I whispered, hand pressing against my covered stomach, “from having fallen over and cutting myself, do you believe me, Doctor?”
When Yunho’s jaw just clenched and he didn’t look at me, I gulped nervously and reached towards my sleeves to pull them off, to let the dress pool at my waist, but one fleeting glance at me had Yunho reaching forward with a panic-ridden face, his eyes widening, “Stop, what are you doing? I believe you, Y/N, I do.”
His hands were big and warm, wrapped completely around mine as the sleeve of my dress swiftly slipped off my left shoulder. His thumb rubbed my bruised knuckles, and despite the sting, I welcomed the affectionate gesture as it covered my arms in goosebumps. I released a long breath, my eyes boring into Yunho’s. His eyes were easy to read, he looked conflicted and confused. I had no idea if he believed me, but I wanted him to. Hurting Karina was wrong, but she deserved it, and I was glad I managed to make her hurt at least once compared to how many times she had hurt me. But I remained silent as Yunho leaned even closer, our faces a breath away from each other. He gulped, loudly, then frowned. As I opened my mouth, he looked alarmed and scrambled backwards, letting my hands drop into my lap as he gasped, grabbing for his things frantically. I didn’t understand what was happening, but when I tried to help, he just pushed my hand away. My heart hammered in my chest nervously as sweat rolled down my temples, and I stood so quickly I got whiplash. Doctor Jeong was just about to take off towards the house when a desperate question left my lips.
“Will you save me, Doctor Jeong?” My voice was trembling just as much as Yunho’s hands, “Will you become my caretaker and take me away with you, will you?”
My questions went unanswered as Yunho ran off, not even bothering to go inside the house as he followed the cobbled path to the front of the house. The engine of his motorcar was loud as I slumped back against the tree with a dizzy head.
The committee was more eager than I had thought at first to wrap this whole thing up. Just two days after my last encounter with the doctor, a letter came at an early morning hour that the verdict would be given today. I was nervous, but I braced myself for the worst possible ending, which would be me being sent back to the asylum. I doubted I would survive that once again, so I could only hope the doctor had taken pity on me and would be generous in his report. My mother had been buzzing around the house all morning, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of the committee. Cookies had been baked, fresh tea was brewed, the ground floor aired out with every corner dusted off, and the tea room was decorated with vases of freshly picked flowers. The grand doors were opened, creating a serene surrounding as I sat on the sofa by myself. Nobody was inside the room except for me, something which was rare. I gaze forward, at the visage, trying to commit it to memory. I wondered if I would get to see it tomorrow too.
Matilda had dressed me in a dainty white dress to feign innocence, with my hair pulled in a low bun, and daisies hanging out of it. It felt as if the ghost of my father was here to cheer me on, to offer me some braveness before everything would unfold. And it would, way too soon. There were loud knocks against the front door before it was opened, and six people piled inside our foyer. My mother and Karina quickly walked inside the room with my mother sitting next to me, meanwhile, Karina took her spot in her favourite armchair. The image was eerily similar to the first day the doctor had arrived, it made my heart race. The rest of my future was in the hands of another man, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I knew what I had done to Karina was wrong, but a small part of me knew that she had deserved it. My muscles tensed when Mr Brooks’ voice carried inside the tea room as he led the committee and Doctor Jeong inside. My jaw clenched and my hands balled into fists as they each walked in, eyes on me as I remained unmoving.
The committee consisted of the town mayor, the judge who had handled my case, the town’s richest married couple, and Father Louis, the head of our church. My stomach churned as the familiar faces sat down surrounding me, leaving space for Doctor Jeong at the front. Mr Brook sat next to my mother and held her hand, making my mother sigh loudly. I didn’t want to look at anyone, I was afraid to see what they hid in their eyes. The doctor seemed tense as he rolled his shoulders a few times, then cleared his throat and accepted the tea from Mrs Humphrey, who had insisted on staying in the room, in the back where she didn’t bother anyone. I couldn’t focus on anyone else but the doctor as he finally seemed like he was ready to speak up. He faced the room and his eyes took in everyone, staying on me for a second too long. I could see Karina sneer from my peripheral vision, but I didn’t care. I was just as curious to hear what Doctor Jeong had to say as the committee.
“Dear committee, Mr and Miss Brooks, Mrs and Miss Harold, and of course, Mrs Humphrey,” Doctor Jeong bowed his head lightly, “Thank you for coming, and I’d like to thank the committee for entrusting me with this intricate and peculiar case. I must say before I begin, that I have encountered cases like Miss Harold’s before, but neither one has been as complex as hers. I trust my personal judgement and everything I have learned up until this point, that my verdict is the right choice, and that if the committee sees it fit as well, it shall proceed with Miss Harold’s sentence accordingly.”
Doctor Jeong’s fingers were wrung together in front of him, his dark blue suit was perfect. He looked dashingly handsome with his wavy hair falling all over his forehead and into his eyes, his spectacles perched into the pocket of his vest. His warm eyes found mine for a second before he looked around the room again, nodding to himself. He took a deep breath and continued his speech, starting to pace around the front of the room. Him standing in front of the garden and the path that led to the willow tree was dreamy, “We all know that Miss Harold had lost her father when she was young, which would be hard news to swallow for a person at any age. I assume that his early death left Miss Harold traumatised in a way that could go unnoticed unless looked upon by a professional, which didn’t happen. Her stress and repressed pain had accumulated, waiting for a small spark to ignite the explosion, which did happen as we all know it. I spent a month daily by Miss Harold’s side, listening to stories of her childhood, and her adulthood, all leading up to the moment we’ve all been curious about. During my time studying her, I’ve come to observe that she is a very kind soul, attentive, and a generous person. She is soft-spoken and very sensitive to everything that happens around her, it is rather hard for me to imagine she could even as much as hurt a fly.”
I gulped, feeling my heart hammer in my chest as Yunho spoke with much conviction, his eyebrows furrowed as he stopped moving around, his eyes settling on Father Louis, “Her mental state, however, fluctuates a lot based on her surroundings, she easily reacts to the change of weather and the change of mood of a person. People like Miss Harold aren’t only in touch with their peers, but with nature as well, as insane as that might sound, it’s a rather special attribute to have. She’s had bad days during our sessions, and I had the chance to further observe the cause of this. As a psychiatrist, I do not enjoy lightly throwing out diagnoses, but I have to ensure the health of my patients. Miss Harold suffers from manic episodes that get triggered by certain words, environmental changes, and people. In Miss Harold’s stories, I have found one person who seemed to be always around her when these episodes happened, making me confident in my theory that she is Miss Harold’s trigger.”
The people in the room gasped as they looked around. My heart was hammering, I could feel my pulse in my throat, but I couldn’t help but let out an amused huff. Karina’s eyes were wide and her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest of the armchair, fear painting her face. It felt satisfying looking at her, and if I hadn’t known the doctor better, I would’ve missed the satisfied smirk on his lips there for a millisecond, “If this wasn’t about the health of Miss Harold, I wouldn’t be throwing out names so unabashedly, but this is to ensure her safety and health. Miss Brooks seems to like to pick on Miss Harold whenever she gets the chance, and she likes provoking her sister. Before anyone could deny my claim, I was witness to such a thing happening, Miss Brooks herself has said some very rude things about Miss Harold that no lady should utter, less about their sister, even if not related by blood. That being said, I cannot throw all the blame on Miss Brooks since Miss Harold is traumatised and doesn’t know how to handle it, or how to control her outbursts.”
Then, as if there was nobody else in the room with us, Doctor Jeong’s eyes found mine, his expression softening. Karina had started crying next to me, but I couldn’t care less as my mother was glaring at her, the committee didn’t look very pleased either.
“What she said in her report…” Doctor Jeong loosened his necktie a little, licking his lips, “Turns out to be true. In a fit of rage, she disassociated and acted upon instinct. I do not know if she had told anyone, but Miss Brooks had come between Miss Harold and her fiancé, breaking off their marriage. As someone who had been in love once, much like all of you in this room, I’d like to assume, we all know what it means to experience our first heartbreak. For someone who had grown up with this boy, loved him with their whole heart, and was supposed to grow old with them, to hear their engagement was broken off based on some lies made up by Miss Brooks not too soon after Miss Harold’s has lost her father must’ve been devastating. Thus, the trauma she had experienced before due to her father’s untimely death combined with another tragedy has made Miss Harold’s mind break, lose its bearings, making her unable to tell right from wrong.”
I couldn’t breathe as my eyes bore into Yunho’s, filling with tears. I had expected him to go against me for having lied in my report, or to try and go around the topic without bringing it up much, but no, he was actively lying for me and keeping up the image that I had a lapse of judgement all this time. My mother’s hand found mine as she squeezed it reassuringly, tears streaming down her cheeks. I glanced at her fleetingly, my body buzzing with life as my hands trembled. I wanted to see the faces of the committee members, but Yunho was all I could look at. There was a heavy sigh in the room, it could’ve come from Mr Brooks or someone else, I couldn’t tell.
“I’m very close to giving my verdict, so allow me to say this before that,” Yunho smiled softly, looking towards the committee with a gentle look on his face, but with a steely look in his eyes, “Miss Harold’s is a human like all of us in this room, and she is allowed to make mistakes. She’s been punished for her mistakes, probably unfairly, and we mustn’t make the same mistake again. I have concluded, that Miss Harold needs an environmental change for her to fully heal. This house no longer feels homey to her, she feels caged in and watched all the time, plus now you all know that Miss Brooks won’t leave her alone either. As a verdict, I have concluded that if the committee and her mother agree, Miss Harold could be assigned a new caretaker. And…before you make suggestions as to who could fit this role best, I would like you all to consider me as her new caretaker for the next year. I am a doctor, I know what to do and how to act in case she is having another episode. I will be leaving the country in a month to return to France, where my foster father has requested my presence. The environmental change would benefit Miss Harold greatly, that is, if you trust me, of course.”
I felt close to fainting by the time Yunho had stopped talking. Him, Doctor Jeong Yunho, my new caretaker? Could that be possible? Would the committee even let it happen? I had no idea, but I wanted to fall in his arms and sob as I thanked him for his effort, for listening to me, for trying to save me from this place. The committee erupted in whispered mutters amongst themselves, but Father Louis seemed more than pleased with Yunho. His brows were sweaty as he dabbed at them with the back of his wrist, his arms covered with the sleeves despite the heat. My mother wasn’t moving next to me, and Mr Brooks had turned his body away from Karina, who was trying to catch her father’s gaze insistently. Then, there was a tsk as the judge rose to his feet, all eyes falling on him.
“Thank you. Doctor Jeong, for your in-depth analysis and for the tabs and reports you’ve been keeping on Miss Harold this month, we appreciate it.” He rubbed at his chin, his hair already silver from age, “We have selected you, Doctor, to treat this delicate case because we have heard of your expertise. You have never once failed to treat your patients accordingly, and I find no reason to doubt your verdict, however, wouldn’t it be risky to take Miss Harold away from here? Couldn’t that trigger her madness even more? And if Mrs Harold won’t agree, she cannot go. Either way, we cannot let her go unless you promise to report back to us monthly, Doctor Jeong, and once the one year is up, you must return her home. She shall be reevaluated, then her fate will be decided for the future.”
When Yunho and my eyes met again, I knew my fate had been sealed. France, a new beginning by his side, sounded like a far-fetched dream that was now within my reach.
Yunho was a professional, except when it came to her. The lines had blurred long ago, he couldn’t tell who was the doctor and who was the patient when it came to her. All Yunho knew was that he could never let her go, not when she clung to him as if her life depended on him. Her lips tasted like honey and her moans were the prettiest music he had ever had the chance to hear, her skin soft and warm and her body so pliant underneath his. All it took was one touch from her for his whole being to crumble, he felt drunk on her, insatiable. Yunho knew he couldn’t let her return home, not now that he’d found Mingi too, not when the three of them were living in a tucked away village in a homey cottage, away from prying eyes. Yunho finally had what he’d been yearning for his whole life. His family was back, right within his reach, and even when he missed his home, he’d gaze upon Mingi and her, and realise that his home was here with them. And she was sweet like nectar, Yunho’s guilty pleasure that he just couldn’t get rid of—didn’t want to get rid of. He was a bad man for preying upon the innocent and unassuming ones, but may God forgive him for his sins, he was just a man after all. He knew he was bound to become insane like his patients one day, but Yunho was already a madman for her, and he didn’t care. Profession be damned, only the four walls of their cottage would truly know the truth, much like her amnesiac brain that had no desire to return to a land and home that’s treated her so horribly once. Here, Yunho was a complete man and he had wowed to protect what was his…no matter what it took. Mingi and her were staying there with him, forever.
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#bvidzsoo#cromernet#yunho x reader#jeong yunho x reader#yunho angst#jeong yunho angst#yunho smut#jeong yunho smut#yunho fluff#jeong yunho fluff#jeong yunho#yunho ateez#yunho oneshot#jeong yunho oneshot#ateez smut#ateez angst#ateez fluff#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#yunho fanfic#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#jung wooyoung#choi jongho
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# “YOUR LIKE A PIECE OF ART!” ── .✦ ( batboys with a s/o who has a lot of tattoos. )
a/n: this was a request by anon actually (here) anyways omg a lot of you guys are sending nationality requests like Irish!reader, Moroccan!reader, Canadian!reader and etc omgg anyways yesterday I took a small break and now I’m back!!! So yeahh tags: (batboys x a s/o who has a lot of tattoos)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
Absolutely adores your tattoos. He finds them mesmerizing and often asks about the stories behind them.
"Wait, this one—what does it mean? And this one? You gotta explain it all to me!" He’s so genuinely interested it’s adorable.
Loves tracing his fingers over them absentmindedly. It’s his favorite way to relax, especially after a long patrol.
If you’re open to it, he’d love to get matching tattoos with you. Something small and meaningful, like a star or an acrobat silhouette.
He’s always hyping you up. “God, you look so cool! How did I even land you?”
JASON TODD ── .✦
Finds your tattoos ridiculously attractive. You’re like a walking piece of art, and he can’t stop staring.
“Another one? Damn, I’m gonna run out of compliments if you keep adding masterpieces to your body.”
Appreciates the rebellious vibe that tattoos give, but loves that yours are deeply personal too.
If you designed any of them yourself, he’s in awe. “Wait—you drew this? Babe, you’re a genius.”
He won’t admit it, but he’s been low-key considering getting a tattoo himself—something to match or complement yours.
Loves running his hand over them, especially while you're cuddling. He’d act cool about it, but he’s secretly obsessed.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
At first, he might be a little shy about it—he’s not used to tattoos or the culture surrounding them.
"So… do they hurt? Like, a lot? Or just a bit?" He’s curious but hesitant to admit he’s interested.
After you explain the meanings and the artistry behind them, he gains a deep respect for your tattoos.
He’d geek out over the symbolism if any of them are literary or historical references.
Secretly thinks you’re the coolest person ever. Your tattoos add a boldness and confidence that he’s drawn to.
If you ever wanted to get another one, Tim would offer to help you research the best tattoo artists.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
He’s intrigued but tries to act indifferent. “Tattoos are superficial… but I suppose these are aesthetically pleasing.”
Secretly, he’s fascinated. He’ll examine your tattoos closely and ask about their meanings when he thinks you’re not paying too much attention.
If any of your tattoos are animals or nature-related, he’s deeply impressed. “A bunny? You’ve chosen well.”
Will jokingly criticize any tattoo he doesn’t like, but you know he’s not serious. He secretly admires all of them.
If you tell him you’re getting another one, he might suggest an animal that resonates with your personality. "Perhaps a panther would suit you."
Low-key, he’d be jealous if anyone else commented on how cool your tattoos are. He doesn’t like sharing your attention.
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
At first, he’d be a bit taken aback—it’s not something he’s used to, and he’s very traditional.
But once he understands that your tattoos have personal meaning, he respects your choices completely.
“You’re a work of art. Literally and figuratively.” He means it sincerely, even if it’s cheesy.
He might not be entirely comfortable showing off your tattoos in formal settings (Wayne galas and such), but he would never ask you to hide them. Instead, he would encourage you to flaunt them confidently.
Secretly, he’s fascinated by the process and would love to watch you get a tattoo one day, just to understand it better.
If anyone makes a rude comment about your tattoos, Bruce would shut them down instantly with his trademark icy glare.
RANDOM CONVOS WITH THEM THAT WOULD HAPPEN ── .✦
with dick
Dick: “So, if I get your name tattooed, does that mean I own your heart forever?”
You: “Only if it’s spelled right.”
With jason
Jason: “If you ever get a tattoo of my name, make it small. I don’t want to be embarrassed when you dump me.”
You: “you think I’ll dump you randomly?”
jason: “who wouldn’t, I’m a high maintenance guy.”
With tim
Tim: He accidentally zones out during a conversation because he’s staring at a detailed tattoo and trying to figure out the design.
With damian
Damian: “Tt, if I were to get a tattoo, it would be far more impressive than yours.” You: “Damian, I literally have a dragon sleeve.”
With bruce
Bruce: “Do all of these mean something? Or did you just think they looked… fashionable?”
You: “Some are meaningful, but yeah, Bruce. Some just look cool
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#dc#batboys#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson#red hood x reader#red hood#jason todd headcanon#nightwing x reader#nightwing#nightwing imagine#nightwing headcanon#dcu#tim drake x reader#tim drake#tim drake imagine#tim drake headcanon#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne#damian al ghul x reader#robin damian#damian al ghul#red robin headcanon#red hood imagine#red robin x reader#red hood headcanon#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne headcanon
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Hey, so for Watcher fans who may not wanna pay for another subscription or just wanna watch something new here are some other youtubers you should take a look at if you want to get a spook or learn some history
(* = potentially triggering topics covered usually associated with crimes, so be careful)
Ghost Hunting and general spooky vibes:
AmysCrypt - Your typical ghost hunting show with two Australians traveling the world, though I will say they do go to places I've never heard of before and they do very good research. And there are some goofs along with the spooks.
The Ouija Brothers - Two British dudes finding ghosts in England. The vibes are generally pretty chill and it's a good time
The Paranormal Scholar - A mixed bag of all paranormal happenings from ghosts to demons to cryptids and aliens. Sort of an overview to deepdives on various paranormal occurrences. The research is immaculate and their voice is very soothing in my opinion.
Paranormal Quest - Ghost hunting in the US, sometimes goofy sometimes serious, but they do go to some interesting places and some familiar ones too
Weird History:
ObsoleteOddity* - This guy is great, like 80% of the things he covers I've never heard of before. Very atmospheric, fun little visuals, and a large variety of weird events and people for topics.
Georgia Marie* - A little bit of everything, but she focuses on strange things that have happened, lgbt history, true crime, and historical disasters. She covers enough of everything that I'm sure you'll find something
Stefanie Valentine* - I'm not sure if she even posts anymore, but I thought what she was doing was great. Think Vampira or Elvira but for older true crime and ghost stories, I think the latest covered would have been like early 1900s. Idk I just thought it was like a cute spooky lil storytime
Caitlin Doughty or Ask A Mortician* - Pretty sure y'all would know who she is but just in case, she's a mortician who covers topics relating to death! From odd ways people have died, or odd things that have happened to people after they've died. And just odd or tragic things that have happened through history. It's silly, but done with levity and care and respect the topics deserve.
General History:
Part-Time Explorer - Mostly history on ships and ghost towns with the occasional train. Lots of research and interviews, very well done and worth checking out even if it may not be your thing.
History's Forgotten People - Talks about sometimes obscure, or sometimes not, historical individuals. Even if you've heard of the person in the topic, they'll talk on something obscure about that person.
History Tea Time with Lindsay Holiday - A heavy focus on royalty around the world, a generally upbeat dive into historic individuals.
(Or you could always go watch time team, that's an option and it's my guilty pleasure love me some archeology)
True Crime:
There are so many out there, so I'll just recommend two of my favorites
Gabulosis* - She focuses on vintage cases 20 years or older (literally in her opener) and is well researched and respectful. Another one that talks on cases I've never heard of that deserve to be heard.
Mysterious WV* - True crime and missing persons based in the West Virginia area and neighboring states. Idk how to even explain the vibes. This guy is just great please watch him trust me you won't be disappointed.
That's all for now, feel free to add your own recs out there!
#or you can just go watch night mind lol#watcher#ghost files#mystery files#puppet history#too many spirits#youtube recommendations#youtube recs#ghost hunting#history#true crime#let me know if you want any more
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Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:
We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.
Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.
We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!
We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.
And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.
If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:
What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?
What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?
What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?
All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.
Because this is an asymmetric problem:
If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.
If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!
You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.
And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.
The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.
Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.
If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.
If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.
This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".
But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).
So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).
But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.
Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.
We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.
My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"
Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"
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God I so much prefer researching Habsburg history over reading about literally any of the other figures I'm interested in bcs it gives me genuine stress parsing through the giant amount of biographies, that have such a huge range of biases and narratives, and trying to decide which to actually embark upon. It's not like Habsburg scholarship is a small field or anything, but it's so much more limited than it is for someone like, say, Napoleon. For Habsburg stuff, I'll pretty much read anything bcs I'm so desperate to learn anything, and I usually have to go out of my way to even find books and papers
#everything carries the author's inherent bias obviously#but most habsburg books cover like. 500 years of history. so.#i loved the one random book i found which is just chock full of anecdotes#who the fuck knows if most of it happened but im taking it as the truth 🙏#meanwhile for napoleon im literally sweating reading thru people's reviews#trying to choose which giant ass book to embark upon#meanwhile the other day i came across a random habsburg book and bought it instantly#zero thought put into whether i might not like how the author portrays them or not#ill take whatever i can get 🙏🙏🙏#also i feel very trusting of many of the individual scholars#bcs they had to go out of their way to research a pretty under-researched historical figure#so i trust that they genuinely put a lot of care into it bcs its such an underdeveloped field comparatively#for other figures biographies are practically a dime a dozen#its not like charles vi where ill read any paper i come across bcs it feels like a rare treat#i genuinely have to put way too much thought into it 😭😭 its scary to me#catie.rambling.txt
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Can you do slytherin boys head canons with ravenclaw reader who info dumps randomly
You're Smart || Slytherin Boys
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo
summary :: you have a habit of saying fun facts and explaining everything in great detail while they listen - it's not super ravenclaw based but u can imagine it :) THANK U FOR REQUESTINGG RAAAHHHH - 🐍 :: masterlist!
DRACO MALFOY
Hated it at first since it felt like you were trying to on up him
Would start to research more topics on his own to make sure you can't one up him on it
Turns this into a competition that's completely one sided for no reason LMAO
Stays up all night up just to learn the most niche and useless information of all time
But somehow, you always know more than him and beat him
Gets so frustrated by this because he can't stand not being the smartest know-it-all in the room
So he decides to try and make YOU seem stupid
Asks you super hard questions that no one could possibly know
But for some reason, you know it
This drives him even crazier cause he can't win LOL
But overtime, he grows to find it really useful and cute at times
He likes to see how passionate you are on different things
And he does like smart girls, so he starts to see it as a pro
TOM RIDDLE
Super annoyed by the fun facts and random info at the start
Mainly because he probably already knows it or he doesn't care for it
Because if he was interested, he would have searched it up already
So in his eyes, it seems like you're call him too lazy and dumb to want to search something up
So he tells you to shut up right away when he knows you're going to info dump
But sometimes, he genuinely doesn't know and he hates admitting that
He's super bad at social interactions, online culture, etc, so he does need help with those
But he's too egotistical to admit that
So he starts to just "ignore you" when you info dump
You'll explain the deep and complicated lore of Trisha Paytas and once you're done he'll say, "Huh? Oh I was spacing out."
But in reality, he was listening in depth and taking mental notes
So he starts to use this to his advantage since you do describe every very well
He starts to silently train you in a way
For example, he'll place a group of items in front of you, like a blue shirt next to a Slytherin hoodie
This will then remind you of Alvin and the Chipmunks so you dive into the deep lore of each actor
MATTHEO RIDDLE
Doesn't really care much at first since he's always been a bit dumber than other kids
He assumed everything you were saying was common knowledge and that he was just dumb
But when others start to mention how smart you are, he's surprised
He has a smart s/o :O
Well, he always knew that but to find out that you were smarter than a majority of people gave him a confidence boost
Starts to rely on you for every single question he has possible
Even if he knows the answer, he just wants to see if he's right
He likes it when you info dump to him
Surprisingly, he's a really good listener when it comes to you
Loves listening to you talk for hours on end
THEODORE NOTT
He's not much of a talker, so having you there to info dump on him is really amusing
You're like a walking podcast for him to listen to
Likes to ask you questions too so you can switch topics
He's super proud of seeing how smart you are
Theo is pretty smart, the smartest out of the Slytherin boy group at least (Which isn't that hard) (Tom doesn't count LOL)
So it's nice for him to finally talk to someone that doesn't ask dumb ass questions every 5 minutes
It's like switching his brain off so he can just listen to you talk and explain
It makes him feel safer with you to know that you're so smart and into so many things
He also loves it because it makes it so easy to buy you a gift since he knows exactly what you like :)
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
You're both kinda in the same boat which is amazing and bad
He's also into info dumping and telling you about the niche history he found out
But so are you, so you two end up clashing and having different ideas
Like for example, you were both info dumping about the brand new live actions Avatar the Last Air Bender and you both had drastically different thoughts
Lorenzo thought a lot of it was inaccurate but you were defending it with your life
But in the end, you both just shut up because you accidentally switch topics mid way
He loves asking you questions about niche topics so he doesn't have to research them himself
Likes listening to you talk while he eats
Sometimes he'll facetime you while he has dinner so he can listen to you talk
And sometimes he even calls you before bed so you can talk him to sleep :)
thank you for reading ! 🐍 :: masterlist!
#harry potter#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#harry potter x reader#slytherin#hogwarts#harry potter fluff#harry potter headcanon
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would you be willing write bodyguard!ellie x burlesque!reader fic??? or ellie could literally be whatever i have no preference!! 🪲
┆𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬 - E.W ⋆✴︎˚。⋆₊˚. ᵎᵎ
♯ 𝘪'𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦
𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 !
summary. to become a vedette was the dream of many ⎯ including yourself. unfortunately, though, you learned the hard way that some dreams were meant to remain fanciful. because, once achieved, the reality of such an industry was far from what you'd imagined it to be. as your underground burlesque club rose in popularity, you alongside it, your personal safety began to deteriorate. in an attempt to salvage yourself from the predatory audience, a bodyguard was hired. notes. the way pink won by 1.1% is so funny to me, but pink it is! also! i had no idea what a burlesque dancer was before this. i did tons of research and watched tons of videos, but in no way whatsoever is this historically accurate. burlesque was popular from 1860s-1930s, getting most traction in the 70s. but i'm frankly a bit shitty at history, so i don't really know what the world was like in the 1800s, so i set this oneshot in the 1920s bc i have the most prior knowledge on that time frame. but, again, this is NOT historically correct whatsoever. certain things i mention might not even be invented at that time, the way people talk might be super incorrect, etc etc etc. so pls just have that in mind. warnings. mentions of assault, illegal selling & purchasing of alcohol, depictions of violence and blood, injury, suggestive ending wc. 8.2k
when ellie accepted this job, she hadn't expected to be roped into such deep shit.
she'd envisaged being dragged through shops and taverns with some random rich transient, told to scare off some creeps, then fired once the opulent stranger grew bored of her monotonous company. what she hadn't expected was you ⎯ someone completely ordinary among passerbyers whilst simultaneously being the most powerful and sought after woman come nightfall.
you own a club, you see, having started your business two decembers prior to present. it began small, only a few people visiting due to mere curiosity and rarely returning. struggling to amass a crowd, you became your own patron; you became a burlesque dancer at your own cabernet. this quickly gained the attention of those who dared wander into the debauched street where your club resides. an underground business run by the alluring woman advertised ⎯ what promiscuous standee wouldn't be intrigued? plus, by the time you were making hundreds nightly, you were in too deep to quit as a dancer. those who visited did so for you. to turn only to a business woman was out of the question.
but, as stated, your club was underground and therefore unknown by the average citizens, only spoken of by those sinful enough to indulge. this way, you were a mysteriously rich woman by day and a desirably powerful one by night. it wasn't exactly what you'd intended to become when first creating your business, but you'd be a fool to complain when making such wealth.
however, nothing ignominious lasts long before the reason for such shame rears its beastly head.
and when it did, you were unable to escape unscathed. you'd been cornered in an alley on your way home, pinned to a brick wall by one of your frequent customers, barely having gotten away intact. after landing a solid hit to the back of his skull with a nearby object turned weapon, you staggered the rest of the way home. a bruise was forming on your jaw from the perpetrator's aggression and a small cut was trailing blood down your bicep from your own lack of attention to your surroundings as you'd accidentally scraped yourself on a stone as you ran from the scene. yeah, so, that's when you made the decision that you needed a bodyguard.
when ellie first laid her eyes on you, she recognized you in an instant. see, she'd never been to your burlesque club on her own; she didn't much care for that form of self deprecation. rather, she'd heard your name spoken many times before by disreputable miscreants and seen your face on a few posters in the more shady parts of town.
tonight was her first official night to be spent with you. the two of you had met once or twice beforehand, getting the payments and conditions in check as well as making her sign and NDA for fear of her causing your cabernet to be found. though, she'd never seen your house and you'd never seen hers, the two of you having met in public settings such as bakeries or parks to discuss such matters. it was entirely professional.
but tonight, now that everything has been put in order, she is to accompany you to the bar. you already told her what you expected of her ⎯ blend in with the crowd and keep watch from afar, only intervene if deemed absolutely necessary. yes yes, she replayed the sentence over and over in her head, just to be sure it's cemented into her memory. totally not because she likes to replay the smoothness of your voice nor the gentility of your tone when attempting to speak quietly as to not draw attention. yeah, no. definitely not that.
"fuck, it's cold." she hisses, pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders as the two of you walk down the sidewalk. your sparkly heels click against the concrete with your every step, only visible under the dull illumination of the sparse streetlights. you're wearing a long coat that covers your neck down to your mid-calf, black in color yet thin in efficiency. "i dunno how you're not freezing your ass off, right now." she comments through chattering teeth.
you huff a laugh, "suppose i've grown used to it."
the air is frigid, your breaths coming out in puffed clouds. snow has yet to fall, but it's surely not far from doing so. the night is black, shadows looming over shabby buildings ⎯ venturing from the rich side of town where you live to the more decrepit side of town where law enforcement is thinned and as is people's class. the perfect place for a speakeasy.
you turn down a random alley where streetlights no longer provide a blanket of comfort. ellie trails behind you, entire body shivering as she takes in her foreign surroundings. on either side are sordid buildings, the brick chipped and paint flaking and wood rotting.
the sound of knocking draws her attention back to you, gaze landing on where you now stand at the very end of the alley. she jogs over to you just in time to hear your knocking in a certain pattern on an old wooden door that she hadn't noticed prior. there's not even an exterior handle, the door almost invisible when paired with the darkness of the alley and its similarity to the wall that embodies it.
knock knock, knock. a pause. creaking.
the door opens with a creak, a man's head peeking out the crack. he sets his eyes on you and instantly swings it open fully to allow you entry. you nod at him before sauntering past. ellie continues to trail behind you, though she's stopped when the man holds out an arm across her chest.
his hair is long and greasy, thick brows overhanging deep brown eyes. a miasma of alcohol and cigarettes clouds him in the form of a malodorous aura. ellie's nose crinkles as she scowls at him.
"not you." he says coldly, shoving her back outside into the alley. she staggers backward, the cold air clinging to her. anger licks up her spine at the aggression of his shove, but she buries it as soon as you enter the scene.
"fuck off, george, she works for me." you huff, moving past him to open the door wider for ellie. she glares at george as she passes, entering the cabernet with a distasteful expression. as she walks past the entrance, you remain in the doorway to reprimand your employee. she'd usually mind her business but, seeing as it's her job to be in your business, she remains closeby as you harshly explain the situation him.
ellie looms over you like an intimidating shadow as you rebuke george. she doesn't listen into the conversation, well aware of it not being her concern. still, she watches him closely, daring the man to step a toe out of line. thankfully, he seems to know better.
a few minutes pass before the two of you leave him to enter the cabernet fully. ellie takes in the sight of the place, never having been inside of one before. the floors are wooden and glossy, laid in a diamond pattern. the walls are satin, embedded with intricate golden designs. there are circular tables crowding the space, all faced toward an elevated stage, which ellie assumes is where the burlesque dancers preform. to the left is a bar, a woman behind the counter serving alcohol to a few people ⎯ though there aren't many customers seeing as the star of the show hadn't yet arrived. to the right are bathrooms and dressing rooms for the dancers.
the rest of the night is spent rather normally. you do your job as usual, dancing suggestively whilst telling satire stories to keep the guests entertained. as the night goes on, the tables fill and the bar grows impossibly busy, now needing extra employees to work behind the counter alongside the priorly singular barista.
ellie stands near the back, arms crossed as she watches over the scene. she tries her hardest not to get distracted by you; by the way your hips sway, the way your chest bounces, the way your legs move, the way your voice hums. all things considered, she'd say she did a pretty good job at the attempt. she averted her gaze more times than she can count, but that's to be expected, is it not?
thankfully, nobody tried anything. the drunken guests made lewd comments and lustful expressions, but never tried touching you or anything else out of line.
it's three hours past midnight when you decide it was time to head back home. as the crowd thins out, you retreat to your dressing room. ellie remains in the corner, standing around awkwardly as you exit the stage. she watches the people file out of the tiny door and into the darkened alley, cold air brushing inside via the opened door.
"so," your voice suddenly speaks, tone nigh a drawl. ellie turns her head toward the sound to see you buttoning your chesterfield coat as you approach. you shoot her a grin, "how was it?"
"good." she replies, perhaps a bit too hastily. she blinks a few times before clearing her throat, "it- uh, yeah. it was good."
you chuckle, walking toward the door as she follows behind you. "no need to be such a prude, williams. you sulked in the corner all night like a disciplined child. i just want to make sure you're not having second thoughts concerning your job."
"what?" she questions, head whipping to face you. "no, not at all! i've just never been to a place like this before, that's all. i don't know how to act."
the two of you pass through the doorway, george having held it open for you. the chill of the air traces up your spine, goosebumps coating your skin. you pull your coat tighter around yourself, though you're careful to not appear too cold as to avoid ellie's concern.
"well, if you'd like, i can help you in that endeavor." you say.
"help me?" she narrows her eyes in inquiry. "in making me feel less awkward?"
"in teaching you how to act." you correct with an amused expression, turning a corner. ellie's brows furrow, urging you digress. "look, there are tons of ways to blend in with everyone else. first of all, try looking a bit less flustered when seeing the dancers strip. second, uncross your arms for it makes you look displeased. third, sit down. you were standing against the wall the whole time and it's unnatural. just take a seat, buy a drink, and enjoy yourself."
she frowns, "easier said than done."
"you act like you've never seen a woman nude, williams." you say with a laugh. "maybe get a bit tipsy before the show and you'll feel more at ease, yeah?"
"i'm not allowed to be drunk on the job." she tells you. "i'm supposed to stay alert in the case of something happening."
you let out a sigh, carbon dioxide exiting visibly. "you won't be drunk, you'll just be a bit tipsy. plus, if you sit in the front, you'll be able to get to me quicker. that way, even if you're a bit disoriented, you'll have the upper hand in proximity's case."
ellie thinks on this for a moment, weighing her options. on one hand, she knows that bodyguard are not supposed to drink, smoke, or do anything else that could impair their ability to do their job. but on the other, you're the one pulling the strings here; she technically works for you. and you're asking her to drink. so, in a certain sense of things, who would she be to decline you?
"fine." she gives in. "but if anything happens to you and i'm too fucking wasted to help, i'll never forgive myself. or you."
you laugh, patting her arm lightly, "oh c'mon, i trust you'll be able to help me even if you're a bit drunk. also, nobody will do anything during the show. it's the before and after that we have to worry about; the spooky walk home in the dark."
she purses her lips at this, suddenly made aware of your guys' surroundings. you're walking along the same sidewalk you'd taken to get to the cabernet, your heels clicking with each step just as they had before. the streetlamps provide a dim yellow glow, but that's it. the moon is naught but a skinny crescent and the stars are rather dull. she'd been on edge, of course she had. but now that it's been spoken aloud to her attention, she's been made extra aware of it.
the rest of the walk back to your house was spent in easy conversation and light laughter. she glanced over her shoulder every few minutes, but nobody was ever behind you.
and, before long, the two of you've reached your destination ⎯ no longer surrounded by the shady alleys near your club, but now surrounded by huge mansions and cars, your own home among them.
"do you want me to walk you inside?" ellie offers as you fumble with your key to unlock your front door, your fingers too cold to operate fully. she notices, but says nothing on the matter.
"i can walk though my own house, williams." you laugh. "but thank you."
she nods, holding the door open for you once you've managed to get it unlocked. you give her a grateful smile before entering and she shuts the door behind you. as it clicks shut, she huffs out a breath.
standing on the porch of your mansion, she can't help but feel out of place here. not due to wealth but to merit. with a sigh, she turns on her heel and leaves your porch, descending the steps and beginning to walk down the sidewalk once more.
on her walk to her own house, she can't stop replaying the night over and over in her head ⎯ the sound of your laughter under the moonlight, the sight of your skin being teased to the audience. there's just something about you that she can't get out of her fucking head. it's only been one night and you've managed to drive her insane.
the following night is spent in a similar fashion. walking together to the cabernet, laughing and talking the whole way there, knocking a certain pattern on the decrepit wooden door, having to remind george that ellie is now allowed inside without payment.
"okay," you say, undoing the top button of your chesterfield coat as ellie trails behind you into the club. nobody else is here yet, the two of you having arrived earlier to make sure ellie can get front seats. "i'm heading back to the dressing rooms. while i do, you can go get a drink or two and sit down, yeah?"
"yeah." she's quick to agree with a nod.
"perfect," you smile, slipping your coat off your shoulders. ellie averts her eyes, cheeks suddenly feeling warm. you huff a laugh, "see you in a bit, williams."
with that, you walk over to the dressing rooms, disappearing behind a beaded doorway. now alone in the center of an empty club, ellie sighs before sauntering over to the bar. she perches atop a wooden stool, the fabric of its seat a thin velvet. she places her elbows on the shiny countertop, resting her chin in her palm.
she takes in the sight of the bottles behind the counter and the low lighting of the bar in general. despite it's prohibition, it's not rare to see alcohol. nobody really abides the law when it comes to intoxication. what's uncommon is to see so much of it. not only is it crazy expensive to buy booze nowadays, but it's also easier to be tracked down and apprehended for it if you have so much.
after a few minutes of wait, a barista eventually rounds the corner, approaching ellie with an apologetic expression. her fiery red hair catches the light, pale skin even paler as she rushes to tend to the customer. "i'm so sorry, ma'am." she rushes out while still tying her apron behind her waist. "i hadn't a clue someone would arrive so early."
"it's fine," ellie assures her, "i don't mind waiting if you need some more time to get ready."
"that's very kind of you." she smiles. "but no, i needn't more time."
ellie shrugs, accepting her response. she then turns back to looking at the bottles that line the wall behind the barista. "can i get the gin rickey?"
"of course." the ginger smiles before turning around to grab a bottle of gin alongside a glass from under the counter. she mixes the drink, adding lime juice and club soda before sliding it across the countertop.
see, ellie doesn't go out drinking often. especially not after the ban of alcohol, as it became harder to find. but she knows that gin rickey is a rather common drink within speakeasies, the taste and convenience of the drink making them quite popular at this time. so, she assumed it wouldn't hurt to see what was so great about it. and, needless to say, she comes to enjoy it.
as the club begins to fill up with guests, she decides it's time to take her seat in the front. ellie ends up having about three more drinks before taking a fourth to go, sauntering over to a table closest to the stage. the circular table is covered with a cream white cloth, the chair wooden with the same velvet cushion as the barstools.
there, she continues to sip on her drink as she awaits your arrival.
she feels her eyelids begin to weigh down a bit, her shoulders feeling uncharacteristically heavy. she recalls the conversation from last night and the way she had to remind you that she couldn't be too drunk on the job. she ends up having to remind herself of the same thing, telling herself that this is the last drink she'll be having for the night ⎯ enough to be more at ease as you'd requested, yet not too much that she feels unable to tend to you if needed. a perfect level.
people crowd the cabernet as it grows darker outside, guests rushing to the bar to get a free stool before they're all taken, then staggering over to an empty table once they're well inebriated.
when the first dancer walks onto the stage, the crowd cheers. she does a few dances, tells a few jokes, takes off her top, and then rotates for the next dancer to come forward. to ellie, it feels rather quick. but when she checks the grandfather clock against the wall, it'd apparently taken the dancer about half an hour before she leaves the stage.
the next dancer is a blonde woman who winks at ellie when she first comes out. the man behind ellie cheers loudly, almost making her go deaf with his boisterous assumption of the woman's favor. she does a more sensual dance than the woman prior to her, taking off her skirt and top, tossing them out to the crowd. she remains in her bra and panties, both of which are adorned with gems that twinkle in the spotlight.
ellie's instincts are to look away, to avert her gaze as to be respectful. but she recalls the way you'd made fun of her for doing so last night, calling her a prude. her cheeks heat as her mind traitorously reminds her of the sound of your laughter. evidently, the blonde dancer on the stage takes her blush as being directed toward her and she shoots her another wink, which leads to the man behind her cheering loudly again. ellie curse herself for the series of events and the way they'd played out so easily despite their involuntary origin.
as the blonde woman walks off the stage, she give one last wink in ellie's direction. she blows her a kiss, waving with her fingers before disappearing behind the curtains. the man behind her goes absolutely insane, ellie's ears ringing from his noisiness. she sucks in a breath, hoping this mistake doesn't lead to anything adverse.
the next and final person to take the stage is you.
the crowd goes crazy, you being the most popular vedette among all burlesque dancers in this city. they clap and cheer and whoop as you just smile and wave, heels clacking in that familiar pattern that reminds ellie of her walks with you. her face is suddenly heating up again. she curses herself mentally, picking up her glass and taking a long sip from her drink in hopes of the rim covering her reddened cheeks.
you move languidly, almost fluid in your leisure. your body shifts with ease, dancing in a sensual peace. your heels click, your hips sway, your hair cascades. everything about you is reeling ellie in, alluring and captivating yet seductive and lewd. she can't seem to tear her eyes away, memorizing every inch of your body as one would adore a piece of art. she takes in your body as though its made of brush strokes and paint and it could vanish in an instant.
you remove your top in one swift movement, pulling the fabric over your head and allowing it to fall to the floor with a gentle brush. the crowd cheers and ellie is painfully reminded that she's not the only one in here. though your chest remains covered by a frilly bra, she feels a weight in her belly at the sharp reminder ⎯ an aching possessiveness that yearns to be special, to be the only one to see you this way.
your eyes meet hers, something passing between you. something sharp and steady and intimate. something striking in its rarity. though, just as fast as it'd happened, it's gone. you turn away, shifting your gaze over the crowd as you continue to sway and oscillate.
ellie takes another swig of her drink, hoping to swallow down her rising emotions. hoping to drown them.
before she even realizes it, the clock strikes three and you're disappearing off the stage with a flourish. the crowd cheers as you walk away, whistling and whooping.
they all begin to slowly file out of the club once it's made aware that the show is over, taking their loud voices with them. of course, ellie doesn't follow suit. she stays seated, swirling the last drop of her drink around in her glass. she watches the liquid swish around, her drunken mind easily entertained by the sight.
when she hears footsteps exit the dressing room, she assumes it's you and turns around with a grin. her face quickly falls when she sees the blonde dancer from earlier walking up to her with a suggestive smirk.
"waiting for someone?" she questions, eyes glinting with a hint of lust.
"uh, yeah." ellie replies, far too awkward and drunk to think of something clever to say in response. her cheeks heat with embarrassment, though the blonde is quick to take it wrong.
"no need to be so flustered." she coos, walking over to where ellie remains seated. she places her hand on the table in front of ellie, leaning down so their faces are mere inches apart. in a gentle croon, she says, "i don't bite."
"well," ellie leans back a little to put distance between them, "i'm not-"
"ruth, leave her alone." your voice comes from the other side of the room, the sound of your heels serving as a bit of familiar comfort to ellie. the blonde woman lifts her head, expression falling when she sees you approaching.
"mind your business." the blonde ⎯ whose name ellie has gathered to be ruth ⎯ groans. "must you steal every person i show interest in?"
ellie opens her mouth to intervene, ready to say something to ease the nigh palpable tension in the air. but you beat her to it, not having noticed ellie's futile attempt to interrupt.
you roll your eyes, still buttoning the top buttons of your coat. "first of all, i've never stolen someone from you because i frankly don't give a shit. second, that poor woman is clearly not interested in you."
"don't speak for her when you don't even know her." ruth frowns, placing her hands on her hips. "and yes she is interested."
"how about you let her choose then." you suggest, crossing your arms after gesturing to ellie with raised brows. "maybe, for once, let the person you're bothering have a say in this."
"fine." ruth snaps, practically fuming at this point. despite her anger, she turns to ellie pleadingly. "tell her."
ellie almost feels bad for ruth. despite the way you'd insinuated that she has a history of not asking for people's opinions on matters such as these, she feels a bit guilty. she'd blushed at ruth multiple times ⎯ though they'd all happened to be unrelated. anyone would be able to get the wrong impression in ruth's position.
"listen, i'm just a bodyguard." ellie says carefully, holding her hands up in defense. "i'm not trying to sleep with anyone. i'm just⎯"
"bodyguard?" ruth mutters, brows furrowing. she glances between you and ellie, the dots slowly connecting. her lip then raises in disgusted rage. "what the fuck!? you hired a goddam bodyguard!"
"i was getting followed home." you explain, equally irritated though you attempt keep your tone calm.
"so just because you're the most fucking popular, you think your safety is more important than any of the other dancers!?" ruth seethes.
"don't put words in my mouth, asshole." you shoot back. "you can hire any bodyguard you fucking want, nobody's stopping you. it's not my fault i thought of it first and you happened to be fucking horny for who i hired."
as you and ruth continue to argue back and forth, the tension steadily rises higher and higher. ellie watches with wide eyes, trying to determine when exactly she should get involved. but, at the same time, you and ruth appear to have been working together for quite a long time, maybe this was an inevitable argument she should let happen? maybe she's just drunk and thinks that it's worse than it is? yeah. she leans back, settling with her decision to allow the two of you to just fight it out. it'll be good for you to⎯
her thoughts are interrupted when ruth snatches up ellie's glass and breaks it on the side of the table, the lip of it now a pointed blade that she holds out at you. it's sharp, the glass fully able to cut through skin if needed.
"ruth.." you breathe, holding your hands up in surrender. "ruth, just calm down..."
at the sound of glass breaking and your shaky voice, ellie is suddenly on her feet, putting herself between you and ruth. she holds an arm across your chest, acting as a human shield.
"get out of my fucking way." ruth snaps. "i don't wanna hurt you, just the cocky bitch you're protecting."
"put the glass down." ellie demands, voice suddenly lowered a few octaves.
the baristas are long gone, having left the club alongside the rest of the guests a good twenty minutes ago. the only person in here except for the three of you is george. he watches from the doorway, eyes wide and shoulders tense. he can't call the cops or the cabernet will be found out and promptly shut down. and he knows better than to get involved. so he's simply forced to watch from afar, poor guy.
ruth glares at ellie, sidestepping in an attempt to get to you. but ellie moves in unison, remaining in her way. ruth curses, jaw clenched. ellie holds you close to her, your chest flush against her back as she holds you by the wrist, her other arm out to ruth in a calming gesture which mirrors one that'd be used when approaching a feral animal.
"fuck you!" ruth spits at ellie, lower lips trembling. her grip on the glass shakes as well, though she remains holding it tightly. "i thought someone fucking liked me! for once, i thought someone would take interest in me! but no. no, i should've known. as always, you were more interested in her!"
"look, i understand you're mad, just⎯"
ellie's words are interrupted by ruth surging forward and stabbing the sharp end of the glass into ellie's thigh, yanking it back out and tossing the bloody glass to the floor.
ellie buckles over in pain, blood seeping down the leg of her pants. when she looks back up, ruth is already across the room, shoving past george as she runs from the scene. george is frozen in place, lips parted as he glances between ellie's bloody form and ruth's depleting one.
"fuck," you mutter, eyes wide as you move to pull out a chair for ellie to sit in. you hold onto her shoulders, helping to ease her into the seat. "fuckfuckfuck."
"calm down," ellie says between heavy breaths. her chest is heaving, her hand keeping pressure on the wound. despite the pain, she stares up at you with blown pupils and parted lips. "take a deep breath, i'm fine."
you shake your head, completely ignoring ellie's attempts to calm you. god, you can't fucking believe her right now. a shard of glass is on the floor, covered in her blood and here she is insisting she's fine. trying to keep you calm. you squeeze your eyes shut, pacing in circles as you try to formulate some sort of plan.
you can't call the police or your club will be revealed. but you also can't go home, wandering the streets with a girl bleeding out on your back. fuck. no matter what you do, it's incriminating.
your pacing ceases as an idea pops into your head.
"george." you call out over your shoulder. the man lifts his head, entire face having gone pale from the sight of all that's happened in front of him. "in the dressing room, under the vanity, there's a first aid kit. bring it to me."
george nods quickly, staggering away from his place by the door and heading toward the dressing room as asked. with him now gone to get the med kit, you turn back to ellie. you crouch down in front of her, your hands shaking as you reach forward to remove her own hand from the wound to examine its severity.
blood soaks her pants, almost coating her entire thigh crimson. the material is torn where the glass was inserted, showing where her skin is sliced right open. right across the muscle.
"okay," you breathe shakily, pressing your palm against the injury to prevent too much bloodloss. "okay, um-"
"calm down," she murmurs again, voice a bit groggy. "look, i'm fine. once george comes back with the med kit, i can patch myself up and i'll walk you home. how's that sound?"
"what!? no!" you shake your head at her incredulously. "no, i got you into this mess. the least i can do is help."
"but you don't have to." she insists. "i can stitch myself just fine, and-"
"ellie, shut the fuck up." you snap, her eyes widening at your sudden harsh tone. not only that but the sound of her first name leaving your lips makes her chest flutter. you shake your head, unaware of the bodily reaction you engendered. "i'll stitch you up, then i'll find some place for us to stay. somewhere nearby that won't ask a million questions."
"uh," she blinks, trying to remember what you guys passed on your journey here, trying her best to do something to help. "wait, yeah. i think saw a motel not too far from here. a block or two down the road, maybe?"
"oh, yes. perfect!" you grin up at her. "i know exactly what you're talking about. i know the owner, too. we might not even have to pay if i promise him free drinks."
ellie's face flushes at the sight of your smile. the combination of everything is getting to her. her inebriation, the feel of your hand on her thigh, the sight of your beaming smile. yeah, she's in fucking heaven.
it's a few minutes later when george returns with the med kit, his hands shaking slightly as he nears you and ellie. his widened eyes appear to be nigh incapable of looking away from her bloodied leg. he swallows harshly before placing the kit on the tabletop.
you offer him a soft smile, grabbing the kit from the surface. you open it as you speak. "thank you, george. you can go home now, if you'd like. get some rest."
"okay." he nods, frankly a bit frantic. "okay, just⎯ just let me know if you need anything, yeah?"
"yeah, of course." you assure him, watching as he rushes to leave the building, pulling on his coat as he shoves the door open. once it closes behind him, you turn back to ellie and the med kit.
one of your hands remains on ellie's thigh, keeping pressure on the open gash. the other pulls the kit into you lap, cracking it open before you sift through the contents. you can feel every movement ellie makes, every shift or wince or twitch. despite the situation being far less than ideal, it all feels oddly intimate. to be so close, to see her in such a vulnerable way. especially when you're now the only two people in the club. you shake your head to rid your mind of the thoughts clouding it.
you pull out a tube of antibiotic ointment, struggling to twist off the cap with one hand. ellie notices your struggle and leans forward, having to bury a wince as she does so.
"here," she says, placing one of her hands over yours as she takes the ointment from your grasp. she pops it open before handing it back to you. "no need to be so independent, you can ask me to open one measly tube."
"i don't want to ask you anything." you grumble, squeezing a drop of the ointment onto your forefingers. "you're wounded, let me do the work."
"you're acting like i lost a limb," she says with an airy chuckle, making you frown. "i have a cut on my thigh. i can still use my hands."
you remove your hand from the wound and begin to dab the ointment onto the reddened skin around it. ellie shivers, but says nothing. if anything, this should feel good. it's supposed to ease the pain and allow the injury to heal faster. as you continue to coat the gash in the ointment, you glance up at her. "maybe i'm not dramatic and you're just too calm, ever consider that?"
"there's no such thing as too calm." she defends herself, feigning a sense of untouchable pride.
you huff out a laugh, "oh shut up."
ellie can't help the way her eyes are pinned to your face, her pale green eyes studying every expression that grazes your features. every dip or crevice of your skin, every furrow of your brow, every twitch of your lips; she memorizes it all. and when you laugh? oh, when you laugh she swears her heart stops beating.
you twist the ointment closed, placing it back in the kit before digging through it for some bandages. you find a roll of gauze, frowning as you'd hoped to find a patch instead. but you can't complain too much as you're lucky to even have a first aid kit at all. in fact, you only bought one because one of the baristas sliced their hand open a few weeks ago and george insisted that it'd be a good idea to at least own bandaids. so, had this happened last month, ellie would have been fucked.
"okay," you mutter as you turn back to ellie, suddenly noticing her staring. you narrow your eyes at her playfully. "what is it?"
her cheeks burn bright red, blinking as she averts her gaze to look at something random on the wall over your head. "nothing, i just⎯ i really like that statue."
you raise a brow, glancing over your shoulder to follow her gaze. when you see the nude statue she was referring to, you almost laugh. it's a naked man, his legs spread seductively, his abs so sharp that it's literally impossible for a human to obtain. you turn back to her, her cheeks now even more red than before.
"fuck," she breathes, hanging her head between her shoulders in embarrassment.
you laugh, "you really like that statue, huh?"
"shut up." she groans, holding her face in her hands. "i wasn't even looking at that statue, i didn't know it was a naked dude."
you begin to unravel the gauze as you continue to tease her. you're well aware that ellie was staring at you. and the only reasons she'd try to hide that fact is if she either didn't mean to or if she's into you. and, as someone who's hit on almost daily, you're pretty skilled at noticing when someone likes you. and ellie has a bad crush. its kinda cute, so you decide to act oblivious, just to see how many lies she can make up.
"well, if you weren't looking at the state, what were you looking at?" you ask her, tilting your head to feign innocent curiosity.
"uh," she sputters, her cheeks so hot that it's painful. you raise your brow, urging her to respond. you notice that the tips of her ears are red as well and you almost feel guilty for teasing her like this. "i don't⎯"
"it's fine, ellie," you chuckle, tearing the gauze to have a long strip in your hand. "i'm just picking on you."
"oh. yeah. right." she nods, mentally cursing herself.
you glance back down at the gauze in your hand, shifting it around so it's ready to wrap around. you look back up at ellie before placing one hand under her knee and lifting it a bit. she winces and your heart clenches, "i know, i'm sorry, i just need to⎯"
"quit that," she murmurs, placing her own hand under her knee and pulling it a bit higher up so you can wrap the gauze around her thigh. "quit apologizing. you're helping me, there's nothing to be sorry for."
"for hurting you." you grumble, wrapping the gauze around her thigh thrice before tying it off onto itself and she eases her leg back down onto the chair.
"you're not hurting me," she chuckles. "my leg is hurting me. not you."
you laugh, "so now you're personifying your leg? how much did you drink?"
"hey, i'm trying to comfort you." she defends herself. "i'm not even drunk anymore. getting stabbed in the thigh sobered me up quite a bit, y'know."
you laugh again and ellie finds herself drowning in the wave of emotions that overcomes her. you're like a fucking tsunami of feelings, like an entire ocean coming to wash her away after having constructed a dam to keep them in. regardless of the prior amount, you're enough to overflow it. to take her by surprise and fucking waterboard her with your easy perfection.
"you're doing it again." you say, standing up from your crouched position. ellie looks up at you, her eyes following your every movement as though by instinctive impulse.
"doing what?" she asks dumbly.
you chuckle, holding your hand out to help her to her feet. "staring at the naked dude statue."
"oh no, please don't make that a thing." she groans.
"it's already a thing, baby." you respond as she takes your hand to aid her in hauling herself up. the sound of the nickname is enough to make her head spin, even more than it already is from having stood up so abruptly. her cheeks burn and you fucking love it. seeing ellie blush is your favorite way to see her; considering how stoic and indifferent she usually is, to see her flustered like this is surreal. and to be able to do it so easily, too? yeah.
ellie drapes an arm over your shoulders, using you as a crutch as the two of you stagger toward the door. you push it open with a boisterous creak, the frigid air stinging your cheeks and hands instantly. but the coldness isn't what shocks you. it's the small flakes of ice that dust through the air.
"it's snowing," you murmur, staring up at the starry sky in awe. a smile warms your features in spite of the chill. "oh, i've always loved the snow."
ellie, frankly, has never much cared for the snow. but the moment she sees you looking up at it like this, she can't help but see the beauty in it; rather the beauty that stands in it. but still, regardless of witticism, she ends up adoring the snow from this day on, the sparkly elegance of the flakes alluring against the biting shivery it induces. the way one is only able to within it for short increments almost adds to its magnetism, making one yearn for more whilst simultaneously rushing to be out of it.
the two of you saunter down the sidewalk toward the nearby inn you'd discussed priorly. ellie leans on you heavily, her limp slowing you down so it almost takes half an hour to walk two blocks. but, once you two finally arrive at the motel, the results are just as you'd hoped.
the innkeeper, once having recognized you, agrees to not ask questions nor to make you pay in exchange for a week of free alcohol at your cabernet. with that, he passes you a key and assigns you two a shared room down the hall.
the inn is old and dilapidated. the floorboards creak with each step, the windows are all stained and foggy, the wallpaper is torn and chipped in placed, cobwebs lining the corners and walls. but the room is, at least, a bit better than all else. there's a small dusty bed in one corner a dresser in the other. a small window files moonlight into the space, a chipped wooden nightstand to the side of the bed. you help to ease ellie onto the bed, the mattress creaking under her weight.
she tips her head back with a sigh, muscles relaxing against the mattress as she finds herself rather grateful to be able to rest her limbs.
"how's your leg?" you ask her tentatively, standing to the side of the bed wearing a weary expression. you're unsure on how to go about this; do you make jokes as to carry on with the usual badinage or do you take this seriously because she's fucking injured?
ellie glances up, the gentility of your voice almost foreign. when she sees your evident trepidation, she softens and pats the empty space on the mattress beside her. "who's the awkward one now?"
you huff out a laugh, "still you."
you step forward, the floor creaking noisily under your feet. though, if you found the floorboards to be clamorous, the bed is even worse. the mattress squeaks under you, springs poking through the thin material so you can feel them under your butt and thighs. it's extremely uncomfortable, but you say nothing.
ellie watches you closely, her eyes sharp and steady. once you're sitting beside her, your posture awkwardly straightened, she can't help but stare. you're still wearing your heels and frilly burlesque clothes, but your black overcoat shields the attire completely. but she knows what resides underneath and she almost aches to know of it.
"i'm never drinking alcohol again." ellie groans before flopping backward, the bed announcing her every movement. her legs remain hanging off the side, as she lands on her back, auburn hair splayed across the dusty duvet.
"how much did you even have?" you question, leaning back on your hand to loom over her face. "you didn't seem that drunk to me."
"four glasses of gin rickey." she says, narrowing her eyes as she attempts to do the math in her head to puzzle out the percentage. in the end, she gives up and just gazes up at you. "i just wish i was sober for your performance."
your cheeks suddenly feel hot at the insinuation. "it wasn't even that good."
"are you kidding?" she scoffs, in genuine disbelief at your statement. "you were fucking amazing tonight. literally all i could think was 'god, i wish i was sober so she wasn't so goddamn blurry'."
"seriously?" you laugh, unintentionally leaning a bit closer as you're caught up in the incredulous humor of her statement. despite your lack of attention, the act doesn't go unnoticed by ellie. every nerve in her body ignites as your face inadvertently grows nearer, her instincts screaming at her to reach out and touch you; nothing lustful about it, just the pure need to hold you. to be near you.
as your laughter dies down, you notice how close the two of you are. your breath hitches, but you don't move away. ellie looks so perfect like this, under you with her pupils all blown and her hair all unkempt. you find yourself staring at her.
"naked dude statue?" she whispers, the inside joke only adding to the intimacy of the moment.
you nod, eyes flicking between her eyes and her lips. in a whisper, you confirm, "naked guy statue."
honestly, looking back on it, that's a quite strange thing to say before kissing someone for the first time. but then again, nothing about yours and ellie's relationship is necessarily normal. she's your bodyguard and you're an esteemed stripper who sells illegal alcohol, for god's sake. not to mention, it's your second day of knowing each other and ellie has been stabbed with a shard of broken glass via your insane coworker.
but the details hardly matter in the moment of it. because everything else blurs when your lips meet hers, the entire world suddenly gone quiet. it begins gentle, her mouth barely moving as though she's scared to do something wrong. but once the two of you find a mutual rhythm, you're grabbing her face and shifting atop her.
she remains sprawled across the bed as you straddle her hips, knees placed on either side of her body. the kiss ventures farther from unsure benign and closure to vehement desperation. you cradle her face in your hands, her own hands coming up to hold you by the hips.
the flow is suddenly interrupted when you try to shift more comfortably, completely clouded by desire that you don't notice your weight being pressed against her wound. ellie's grip on your hips tightens, the kiss breaking as she yanks her head back in a wince. your eyes widen in realization, guilt gripping you by the throat.
"fuck," you breathe, instantly moving to get off of her, "i'm so sorry."
"no." she says, almost pleadingly. she's still holding you by the hips when she sits up and attempts to guide you back on top of her. "no, i'm fine. don't stop."
your brows furrow. you hurt her, you were so caught up in the moment that you caused her pain. and yet, here she is, just as needy as you in spite of the pain. fucking ellie williams, everyone. laughter bubbles in your chest as you give in, returning to your place atop her lap.
"what?" her cheeks are burning bright red. "are you laughing at me?"
you're still giggling when you press a kiss to her lips, "you're just so perfect."
she's still confused, but doesn't much care for answers when you're kissing her like this. so she simply nods, feigning cognizance as she pulls you impossibly closer to her.
it's just as she reaches to unbutton your coat when the door swings wide open and the innkeeper comes sweeping in, the poor old man unaware. "oh, i forgot to⎯" his words are cut off when he realizes what he'd just walked in on. you and ellie both turn to look at him.
you're sitting on her lap, one of her hands on your chest as the other is on your hip. it's no mistaking what was going on here. the elderly innkeeper curses, covering his eyes before promptly exiting the room and shutting the door behind him, his previous reason for entry completely forgotten.
you and ellie stare at the closed door wordlessly for a split second, only for the silence to be ended by you bursting into laughter. you turn back to ellie, laughing your ass off as she soon joins in. you press your forehead to hers, eyes shut as you struggle to catch your breath. her eyes, on the other hand, remain wide open as she stares at you, admiring the scene before her ⎯ the ambiance of a moonlit motel room, the sound of your melodic laughter, the feel of your body on her lap, the sight of your smile and shut eyes. fucking hell.
when ellie accepted this job, she hadn't expected to be roped into such deep shit. and by 'deep shit' she means falling in love with a vedette.
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#vxsellie !#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie willams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie x you#burlesque dancer#dividers#lesbian#sapphic#wlw#hozier#dinner and diatribes#the last of us#video games#tlou game#tlou2#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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Diversity Win: Is "Crazy Rich" POC Representation Necessarily Empowering?
sodapopsculptor asked:
I’m writing a story with two sets of protagonists: A trio with a Black girl, a Latino, and a Vietnamese-American boy who all come from middle-upper class to ridiculously rich families, and a pair of white working-middle class sisters. They’re all heroes of this story. I’ve seen way too many rich white people and poor poc people in fiction, and I’m kinda getting sick of it, but I’m worried that by having the poc kids be rich and the white girls not so much, I’ll be reinforcing the idea that poc somehow rule the world. The only time the rich kids use their status as leverage is when the Asian threatens to sic his cop dad on a bully (race unstated but I imagined him as white) picking on a freshman, and during the Black girl’s birthday party, when she pays the biggest jock there fifty bucks (And later says offhandedly that it was just what she had in her pocket) to chase off a creep hitting on her.
OP, have you ever seen the “diversity win!” meme before?
I understand that your motivation for these narrative choices is to give POC a chance, if you will, to be the rich characters. But it is evident from this ask that you have not asked yourself what this entails. I want to ask you to critically examine the race and class intersections you’re creating here, as well as these kids’ roles in oppressive systems.
You explain that these rich POC are heroes and only have righteous reasons for leveraging their power.
But is your Black girl character aware of the potential disciplinary and/or legal consequences her jock accomplice might face while she has the resources to keep her hands clean? Are you?
Is your Asian character aware of how much of an abuse of power it is to “sic” a cop on someone, and the sheer amount of harm a criminal record or incarceration does to a juvenile with behavior issues? Are you?
So you want to put POC in positions of power for #representation.
Does it resonate with the group you’re representing?
Do you research and portray the unique ways race, ethnicity, class, and majority vs. minority status come together?
Or are you putting these characters in oppressive hegemonic roles for the sake of a power fantasy, on behalf of a group you're not even in?
To your question, you're not reinforcing the idea that "POC rule the world" because such a generalized belief does not exist. Instead, you're reinforcing:
The idea that society has “winners” and “losers.”
The idea that the problem with disproportionately powerful people is the lack of “equal opportunity” as opposed to the power imbalance to begin with.
The idea that those in oppressive positions of power need only have the right intentions to justify their use of it.
To be clear: that is not to say that you can't have jerk aristocrat billionaire millionaire crazy rich POC. Evil or mean rich characters are fun! I have some myself! You can even have rich characters who are gentle-hearted and well-intentioned, but you have to know the ways in which they’re privileged and decide how aware of that your characters are. That’s no problem.
But if you think that wealthy and powerful POC would have the same values and priorities as their poorer counterparts, you’re deluding yourself. There’s a reason why the quote “power corrupts” exists. There’s a reason why no matter where you look on the globe, there are historical dictators and tyrants.
If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.
~ Rina
I fully agree with Rina, and truly want to emphasize the last paragraph.
If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.
I don't think you need to aim to subvert or purposely make all the BIPOC rich and powerful and the white people poor and suffering. Add diversity and include upper class rich and class privileged BIPOC, sure thing! And you can avoid your fears of intentional subversion message by including rich and powerful white characters as well, even if they're not the focus of your story. Just their existence helps. You could also include middle-class characters of Color as well.
More reading: Black in upper-class society
~Mod Colette
#class#upper class#capitalism#POC#creator responsibility#asks#representation#wealth#privilege#subverting tropes#intersectionality#crazy rich asians#last edited 1/8/24
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