#nothing you do will hurt a fictional character
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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 day ago
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Writing Ideas: Evil Plan
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This trope is the reason "villains act, heroes react"; the villain needs to be doing something evil or the hero has no evil to thwart.
Some popular examples of Evil Plans:
Take Over the World: This is the most popular villainous scheme of all. The scale of conquest can vary depending on the setting and (or) the villain—some warlords are content to settle with conquering a city, a kingdom or nation, while Science Fiction or Fantasy overlords will go for nothing less than galactic, universal or even multidimensional domination.
The Evils of Free Will: A popular means to this end: by robbing everyone of their free will, they will have no choice but to serve their rightful ruler.
Assimilation Plot: Let's turn everyone into a single entity, whether they wish it or not.
Earth-Shattering Kaboom: Why take over the world when you can blow it up? Like Take Over the World, the scale of destruction also varies depending on the setting — some villains are content with merely destroying a city or kingdom (particularly if they feel the city or kingdom has somehow wronged them — i.e., revenge), while Omnicidal Maniacs may well wish nothing less than to destroy the entire universe or multiverse.
Kill All Humans. Related tropes: Feeling Oppressed by Their Existence: A character wants to get rid of a particular person or group of people just for existing. Absolute Xenophobe: Wants to destroy all other sentient life (human or otherwise). Omnicidal Maniac: Wants to destroy absolutely all life, sentient or not. Final Solution: The intentional extermination of a species/demographic is the answer to fix a perceived issue. Humanity's Wake: The outcome of this trope should the opposing species succeed in eradicating us.
In Their Own Image: Not happy with the world the way it is? Try tearing it down, and building it back up as something even greater.
The End of the World as We Know It: Not so much destroying the world or humanity as really screwing up civilization; though the former two may be involved in the bargain.
A God Am I: Forcing everyone to acknowledge their godhood (actual godlike powers optional).
Godhood Seeker: Make your character an actual deity.
Immortality Seeker: Pursue the quest for eternal life, no matter what foul deeds are needed to make it happen.
A Plot in Deed: Steal the deed to a plot of land and you'll own it, so why not steal the deed to somewhere good?
MacGuffin: Steal an ancient artifact with untold powers. This is usually done in the pursuit of one of the other Evil Plans.
Sealed Evil in a Can: Release the source of all Evil from its prison. This rarely goes well for the villain attempting it.
Revenge: You know that guy that wronged you in the past? It doesn't matter how petty or misplaced your grievance is, it's payback time. Time to kill him, or make his life a living hell.
Get-Rich-Quick Scheme: If you're already rich, get richer. Any scheme is fair game in the pursuit of the profit margin, be it theft, blackmail, or auctioning the world off to hungry demons. Unfortunately, this lust for wealth falls prey to poor planning.
Utopia Justifies the Means: You know how people keep hurting themselves and each other? Make them stop, by whatever means are necessary. No ill will required! Just like in Take Over the World, The Evils of Free Will often gets put into play here.
Dystopia Justifies the Means: People hurting each other? That's exactly what your society needs. Use all the means at your disposal to create a nightmarish dystopia where the forces of evil run rampant and people live in constant terror and corruption, just the way the villains like it.
Poke the Poodle: Their idea of evil is harmless behavior like cheating at Solitaire, jaywalking on an empty road, chewing gum in Singapore, pulling the "do not remove" tag off of your mattress, hiding your toothpaste, drinking the milk directly from the carton...
Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
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zylokv · 3 days ago
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OVER MY DEAD BODY, JENNIE. — myoui mina
❝ you're my spouse on paper, however you're not my responsibility.❞
synopsis — till death do you part, right? why does it feel like you're the only one that fulfilled that vow.
word count ! — 21k
— myoui mina x reader !
notice — heavily inspired by @neoplatinum, aswell as cozuzi and queen of tears.
disclaimer ! — this story is a work of fiction. the portrayal of characters, events, and relationships does not reflect the real lives or personalities of any individuals mentioned. themes of infidelity and emotional conflict are explored, but the intention is not to glamorize toxic behavior.
series masterlist !
LAST PART!
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the hospital room was quiet, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors the only sound. your head throbbed faintly as you sat up in the bed, trying to make sense of the fragmented memories and emotions swirling inside you. jennie sat by your side, her presence a constant since you'd woken up, her eyes soft with concern as she fed you small spoonfuls of porridge.
"you’ve been through so much," she murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "but you’re safe now. i’m here."
you swallowed the porridge, the warmth doing little to settle the growing unease in your chest. "jennie," you started, your voice hoarse, "why do i feel like... like i should know something important? like there’s someone—"
"someone who doesn’t matter anymore," she cut in, her voice firm but gentle. "someone who hurt you."
your brow furrowed. "what?"
jennie hesitated, her expression darkening as she set the bowl down. "myoui mina," she finally said, her tone laced with disdain. "she tried to break into this very room a few days ago. she was desperate to see you."
"she—what?" you blinked, confusion knitting your features. "why? what does she want?"
"she wanted to be here when you wake up, probably to manipulate you," jennie said, her jaw tightening. "just like she always has. but don’t worry. she’s not going to hurt you anymore. she’s... she’s already in jail where she belongs now."
the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. "jail?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
jennie nodded, leaning closer. "she’s under investigation for a lot of things, but mainly for bambam’s disappearance. remember him?"
you didn’t. but the name sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless.
"he was the one she cheated on you with," jennie continued, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, as though sharing a secret too dangerous to speak aloud. "and then, one day, he just... vanished. no trace, nothing."
your hands clenched the blanket, a dull ache settling in your chest. "if she’s such a monster, why was i ever with her?"
"because you were lonely," jennie said softly, her gaze locking onto yours. "you wanted to feel needed. and she saw that. she used it against you, used you to clean up her messes, to protect her reputation. she didn’t love you. she loved what you could do for her."
the words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you let out a bitter laugh. "i must’ve been pathetic," you muttered, shaking your head. "a lonely, naive fool who let someone like her walk all over me."
jennie’s hand covered yours, her grip warm and steady. "don’t say that," she said, her voice tinged with something darker, possessive. "you were vulnerable, but you’re not anymore. you’re with me now, and i’ll protect you. i couldn’t do it back then, but now..." her fingers tightened, her eyes gleaming with a fervent intensity. "now you’re in my grasp. and i won’t let anything or anyone hurt you again."
a shiver ran down your spine, but you couldn’t tell if it was from her words or the way she said them. "jennie..." you began, but your voice faltered, unsure of what to say.
"shh," she murmured, lifting the spoon again and holding it to your lips. "just focus on getting better. let me take care of everything."
you nodded numbly, opening your mouth to accept the food. as the warmth of the porridge spread through you, you tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, the sense that something wasn’t adding up.
but with no memories to hold onto and jennie’s unwavering gaze fixed on you, it was easier to simply let her words fill the empty spaces in your mind.
for now, you let yourself believe her. -----
the atmosphere inside the prison visitation room was heavy with tension. mina sat across from mr. han, her lawyer, whose sharp eyes never left the documents laid out in front of him. his glasses gleamed in the soft overhead light as he calmly sifted through the evidence. mina, on the other hand, could barely sit still, her fingers anxiously tapping against the table.
“miss mina,” mr. han began, his tone clipped and precise, “it’s come to my attention that the authorities are presenting a case that’s entirely dependent on circumstantial evidence. the blood, the hair, the accusations—they don’t have much beyond that.”
“but... they found my hair in bambam’s car,” mina whispered, her voice shaking as she glanced down at the picture of the abandoned car.
mr. han raised an eyebrow. “yes. your hair. in a vehicle that was found under a bridge, with no sign of bambam. the only thing they’ve connected you to is that small piece of evidence. but,” he added, adjusting his glasses with a cool, deliberate motion, “we’re going to dismantle this case piece by piece.”
“how?” mina asked, her voice almost desperate. “how do we explain that?”
mr. han’s gaze was unwavering as he shifted the papers, placing a new set of images on the table. “this is where we start. first, we know you met bambam that night. you admitted that.”
mina nodded. “yes, I did. bambam and I agreed to meet in his car. I had something important to tell him. but when I got there... he was acting strange. I don’t know what happened, but I left him in the car... perfectly fine.”
“perfectly fine,” mr. han repeated, his voice smooth and calculating. “and when you left, he was in no danger? you saw him leave the car? there were no signs of injury?”
“no,” mina replied quickly. “he was fine. I left him there, just like that.”
“good,” mr. han said, leaning back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “now we focus on the real issue—the knife, and the woman seen on the cctv footage.”
mina’s heart skipped a beat. she hadn’t forgotten about the knife, the one that had been found near bambam’s car. it wasn’t hers, but it had been taken from her apartment.
"the knife," mina started, her tone measured. "it’s mine. i recognized it the moment they showed it to me. but i didn’t use it."
mr. han interjected smoothly. "let’s break this down. you’re confirming the knife belongs to you, correct?"
"yes," mina admitted. "but it went missing. i thought i’d misplaced it before i left for the myoui estate in japan."
he slid a photo across the table. mina’s gaze dropped to the image—a woman leaving her house in a red coat. her stomach twisted. “that’s the night of the murder,” she said softly, her voice tight. “but that’s not my coat.”
mr. han adjusted his glasses, looking at her as if she were missing the most obvious thing in the world. “exactly. it’s a woman who looks just like you, but she’s wearing the wrong coat. and guess what? we’ve got camera footage that proves it. you were already gone by the time the murder happened, but the cops don’t know that yet. they’re too busy chasing their own tails.”
“but why? why would someone do that?” mina asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
mr. han paused, then slid another set of photos across the table. “these are dashcam footage from nearby cars, showing the same woman entering bambam’s vehicle after leaving your penthouse. and here”—he tapped a photo—“this is a picture of the woman burning her clothes afterward. trying to cover up her involvement.”
mina’s breath caught in her throat. “that’s... that’s insane.”
“it’s a calculated move,” mr. han replied, his tone hardening. “and whoever hired this woman is trying to frame you for bambam’s disappearance. we’re going to find out who it is, and once we do, we’ll break this case wide open.”
mina sat back in her chair, her mind racing. “but there’s more, isn’t there?”
“yes,” mr. han said, leaning forward with a sudden sharpness in his voice. “this next part... this is what’s going to change everything. we’ve managed to hack into the phone of the woman who was involved. we know she sent images of the knife, the bloodstains, and a series of cryptic messages. messages that suggest she’s working for someone.”
“and you got all of this legally?” mina asked, still trying to grasp the magnitude of the situation.
mr. han smirked slightly. “the link we sent her was benign enough that she clicked it without suspicion. and now, we’ve got full access to her phone. the information is damning, and it’s going to help us tie this woman to the scene.”
“but what if they trace it back to us?” mina asked, her voice barely a murmur.
“we’ll play it smart,” mr. han reassured her, his voice calm and unwavering. “we’ll claim the evidence came from an anonymous source. there’s no way they can trace it back to us. and once it’s in the system, it’s fair game. they won’t have a leg to stand on.”
mina’s heart sank, but there was a small spark of hope flickering in her chest. “do you think this will be enough?”
“it has to be,” mr. han said, his tone firm. “once we show that the woman took the knife from your penthouse, once we connect her to the scene, and once we prove she was hired... they’ll have no choice but to drop the charges. you will be free.”
just then, the prison guard signaled that visiting hours were coming to a close. mina stood up, her mind racing but her resolve hardening. “thank you, mr. han,” she said, her voice quiet but filled with gratitude. “for believing in me.”
“you don’t need to thank me,” mr. han said with a cool smile. “I’m just doing my job. now let’s get to work. the trial starts soon.” -----
FLASHBACK
the car was parked under the shadow of an overpass, the air heavy with tension. mina sat in the passenger seat, her posture poised and unyielding, the dim glow of the dashboard casting faint shadows across her sharp features.
bambam tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, the faint rhythm echoing in the silence. “so, what’s this about, mina?” he finally asked, his voice tinged with impatience.
she turned to face him, her gaze icy and calculating. “it’s about them,” she said, her tone even but laced with steel.
his brows furrowed in confusion before a smirk crept onto his face. “oh? what about your precious lawyer?”
mina’s eyes narrowed, her expression unflinching. “stay away from them, bambam. whatever you’re trying to do, it ends now.”
bambam leaned back in his seat, letting out a low chuckle. “is that so? and what makes you think you can tell me what to do?”
“because I can,” mina replied coolly. “and because I will. i’m not here to play games with you, bambam. this is your final warning.”
his smirk faltered for a moment before he scoffed, shaking his head. “you’re unbelievable, you know that?”
mina’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “it’s power. power that could make your life very difficult if you keep pushing me.”
bambam broke the silence first, his tone sharp. “you’re not going to win them back, you know.”
mina’s eyes flicked to him, dark and unyielding. “that’s none of your concern.”
“none of my concern?” bambam scoffed, leaning back in his seat with a bitter laugh. “do you really think they’ll forgive you, mina? after what you did?”
mina’s gaze remained steady, her voice calm but cutting. “they already know. i made a mistake—one i’ll regret for the rest of my life. but forgiveness? that’s for them to decide. not you.”
“you think saying that makes it all better?” bambam challenged, his words dripping with derision. “what do you even have to offer them after breaking their trust?”
mina’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “everything,” she said simply. “i’ll give them everything—my time, my love, my name, my empire, if that’s what it takes.”
“and what if it’s not enough?” bambam pressed, his voice rising slightly. “what if they walk away, mina? then what?”
mina leaned forward, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “then i’ll spend the rest of my life making sure they know what they mean to me. and if they still choose to leave—” she paused, her expression softening ever so slightly, “—then i’ll let them go. because that’s what love is.”
bambam’s laugh was sharp, almost cruel. “love? don’t make me laugh. you’re all talk, mina. you think you’re so noble, but let’s not forget—i was there first. i’ve known you since we were kids. how could you pick someone like them? a nobody, a lawyer.”
mina’s smile didn’t waver, but the air around her seemed to grow colder. “careful, bambam,” she said softly, her tone razor-sharp. “you’re forgetting who you’re talking to.”
he opened his mouth to retort, but mina cut him off, her voice growing firmer. “you think i chose them because they’re a ‘nobody’? no. i chose them because they’re everything you’ll never be. they’re kind. selfless. loyal. something you wouldn’t understand.”
bambam’s jaw tightened, but mina pressed on, her words precise and unforgiving. “and let me make one thing clear: whatever you think you had with me? it’s over. it was a mistake—a lapse in judgment i will never repeat.”
“you sound so sure of yourself,” bambam muttered, his bravado faltering. “but do you really think they’ll look at you the same way?”
mina’s expression softened, though her eyes remained steely. “i don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “but i’ll fight for them, bambam. every single day. because they’re worth it.”
she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “and you? you’re nothing but a reminder of a mistake i’ve already left behind. so here’s my advice: stay away. from them. from me. from us.”
bambam’s smirk returned, though it was weaker this time. “and what if i don’t back off? what are you going to do, mina? ruin me?”
“if i have to,” she replied without hesitation, her voice steady and devoid of emotion. “do you really want to test me, bambam? do you want to see how quickly i can pull the rug out from under you? your family’s success depends on the myoui shares. one call from me, and it all comes crashing down.”
his smirk vanished completely, replaced by a flicker of unease.
“you’re serious,” he muttered, almost to himself.
mina leaned in slightly, her gaze piercing. “deadly. serious. so listen carefully, bambam. stay away from them. stay out of their life. because if you don’t, i will make sure you regret it.”
bambam was silent for a moment, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “you’re cold, mina. colder than i ever thought possible.”
she tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “and you’re predictable. but let me make one thing clear: i care about them more than anything. and i’ll do whatever it takes to protect them.”
he let out a bitter laugh, his frustration evident. “you’re going all in for someone like them? a nobody compared to us?”
mina’s gaze darkened, her voice dropping to a whisper. “they’re not a nobody. they’re everything. and if you think otherwise, you’ve already lost.”
she opened the car door and stepped out, her heels clicking against the pavement as she turned to look at him one last time.
“don’t make me repeat myself,” she said, her tone final. “this is the last time we’ll ever speak.”
without waiting for a response, she walked away, her figure disappearing into the night. LATER THAT NIGHT mina's pov
i watched them from the doorway for a long moment, their figure slouched against the couch, eyes lost in the amber liquid in their glass. the room was too quiet, too still. it made something inside me stir—an urge to close the distance, to fill the silence with the sound of my voice.
finally, i stepped in, my footsteps soft on the hardwood. "you're good at avoiding things," i said, my tone low and deliberate.
“i’ve been working,” they replied, but i could tell they were listening. i pushed forward, my gaze fixed on them. "at this hour?" i asked, the edge in my voice unmistakable.
silence hung in the air as they shifted, but i didn’t wait for them to speak. i took another step closer.
"you look gorgeous," i added, my voice slipping into something softer. it was true. they always looked amazing—no matter the circumstances.
their eyes flickered to me briefly, but they quickly turned away, hiding behind the glass in their hand. a flash of frustration ran through me, but i tamped it down.
"don’t say things like that," they muttered, and i could hear the unspoken weight in their words.
i paused, eyes narrowing as i took in the situation. the tension was thick, palpable. they were avoiding me, but there was something else too—a fear, a reluctance. and it made my chest tighten.
“you’ve been drinking,” i observed, my gaze flicking to their glass. “and thinking. i can tell.”
their sigh was heavy, their shoulders slumping as they leaned back. “why are you doing this?” they asked, frustration lacing their voice. "why are you trying so hard now? do you think i’ve forgotten? sometimes i still see him. i still hear his voice.”
bambam.
the name scraped across my mind like a shard of glass, but i didn't flinch. i could feel the sharpness of his ghost still lingering between us, but that didn’t matter now.
i crouched down in front of them, close enough that i could feel their breath hitch. “he’s gone,” i said, my voice soft but sure.
they blinked, confused. “what do you mean?”
i let my lips curl into the faintest smile. “he won’t bother us anymore.”
“mina, what did you—”
“do you trust me?” i interrupted, my eyes locking onto theirs with an intensity that made their pulse quicken.
they hesitated, and i saw the doubt in their eyes. but i knew—i knew—that they would come around.
“i’ll make this simple,” i continued, my voice low, almost a whisper now. i leaned closer, one hand brushing against their thigh, making sure they knew i was real, that i was here. "you’re mine. and i’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way."
their breath caught in their throat, but they didn’t speak.
"if i fail again, everything i have—my wealth, my power, my name—it’s yours,” i added, my voice thick with the weight of the promise. “but let me make one thing clear.”
my hand traced a slow, deliberate line up their jaw, forcing them to meet my eyes. “if you ever think about betraying me, if you ever look at someone else—”
i paused, the smile on my lips widening just slightly. "you’ll regret it."
“mina—”
“shh,” i whispered, cutting them off with a finger against their lips. “you think i’d let that happen? with this kind of face, you have time to look at someone else?”
my laugh was soft, but it carried a dark edge. “i’ll make sure you never even think about it,” i said, the words slipping from my mouth like a sweet, dangerous promise.
i climbed onto their lap with practiced grace, my robe slipping slightly, the fabric brushing against their skin. i could feel their heart pounding beneath me, their body stiff with tension.
“do you know why, darling?” i asked softly, my hands cupping their face, tilting it slightly to meet my gaze.
they swallowed hard, their eyes flickering with a mix of confusion and desire.
“because you’re mine,” i whispered, my lips grazing their ear, my voice barely audible but full of conviction. “every part of you—your heart, your body, your soul—it belongs to me. till death do us part.”
my fingers tightened slightly, just enough to make them feel the pressure, feel my ownership. "you’ll stay by my side, and i’ll make sure you never want to leave."
the tension in the air was unbearable now, and when our lips finally met, it was everything: a promise, a threat, a declaration. my kiss was as fierce as it was tender, leaving them breathless and completely consumed.
i could feel them respond, their body finally giving in to the pull of mine. the world outside didn’t matter anymore—only the space between us, the heat, the quiet desperation in their touch.
and as the kiss deepened, the way my hands moved slowly, deliberately over them, it became clear: this wasn’t just a kiss. it was a claim.
bambam was nothing now—just a fleeting, foolish mistake. one i had already erased from existence.
and now? they were mine—completely.
-----
jennie escorted you out of the hospital. her hand remained steady on your back as you stepped into the cold, crisp air. waiting near the exit were familiar faces and two people you vaguely recognized as mina's parents. their expressions ranged from worry to relief when they spotted you.
sana stepped forward first. "thank god. you're alright." her eyes shifted to jennie, narrowing. "but what is she doing here?"
jennie tightened her grip on your arm, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes fixed firmly on her lips. "they need rest. i’m here to make sure they get it."
you hesitated, looking between the two groups. sana’s gaze was pleading, momo’s filled with concern. "don’t believe anything jennie says," sana blurted out. "she’s—"
"enough," jennie interrupted smoothly. "they don’t need this stress."
sana tried to push forward, but two men in suits—jennie’s bodyguards—stepped in, blocking her path. momo glanced at you, her eyes filled with something you couldn’t place—guilt? regret?
"let’s go," jennie said gently, tugging you toward the waiting car. you followed, your mind spinning as the door closed behind you. through the tinted windows, you caught one last glimpse of sana, her mouth moving as if shouting something you couldn’t hear.
back at the apartment jennie had set up for you, everything was too perfect, too curated. the walls were adorned with pictures of you and jennie—smiling, happy, a life you couldn’t recall.
you wandered aimlessly until you found yourself in what appeared to be your private office. the space felt more like yours—papers strewn across the desk, case files stacked neatly on the shelves.
sitting in the chair, you ran your fingers across the polished wood of the desk. drawers beckoned, and your curiosity got the better of you. as you rifled through them, a small device caught your attention—an mp3 player. etched on the back were the initials M.M.
your breath hitched. why did that feel significant?
plugging in a pair of headphones, you scrolled through the playlist. songs filled your ears, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. you found yourself nodding along, murmuring, "good taste."
leaning back, you closed your eyes, letting the music envelop you. but as the final chords of a song faded, a thought struck you like lightning.
"if mina really was my enemy," you muttered, "then maybe it’s time i learn more about her."
setting the mp3 player aside, you leaned forward, determination replacing hesitation. visiting hours at the prison weren’t far off, and if you were going to piece together the truth, you needed to start there.
-----
the hum of fluorescent lights buzzed faintly as you stepped into your office building for the first time since the accident. park jihyo, your ever-efficient assistant, was already waiting near the entrance. her expression shifted quickly between relief and hesitation as she approached, clipboard clutched tightly to her chest.
“you’re back,” she said, offering a tentative smile. “it’s good to see you.”
you nodded, glancing around the space that felt both familiar and foreign. “so this is where i work?” the words came out more like a statement than a question, but doubt lingered in your tone.
jihyo’s smile softened, though concern flickered in her eyes. “yes. this is your office. you’ve spent so much time here... you’ve built a reputation as one of the best lawyers in the city.”
“what kind of lawyer am i?” you asked, half-joking but mostly serious. you gestured vaguely at the desk, the files stacked neatly on it, the accolades framed on the walls. “was i any good?”
jihyo hesitated, her gaze dropping to the clipboard. “you were brilliant. fearless. but... i can’t tell you much more.”
“can’t, or won’t?” you pressed, your tone sharper than intended.
“it’s... complicated.” jihyo admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
frustration bubbled beneath your skin, but you didn’t push further. instead, you spent the rest of the day acclimating yourself to the environment—pouring over files, trying to piece together fragments of your professional life. jihyo’s praises lingered in your mind, but they felt hollow, like echoes in a vast, empty room.
as evening fell, you left the office, the chill of the winter air biting at your cheeks. the drive to the prison was quiet, the hum of the heater in your car the only sound. your thoughts churned, a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.
“how could i have fallen for a criminal?” you muttered under your breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter. the irony wasn’t lost on you—one of the city’s best lawyers, tangled in the web of someone suspected of a heinous crime.
snow began to fall as you arrived at the prison. the waiting area was cold and unwelcoming, the walls a dull, institutional gray. your breath misted in the air as you sat, your gaze fixed on the window where snowflakes danced against the pane.
and then, she entered.
myoui mina. even in the drab uniform of a prisoner, she carried herself with an elegance that was almost otherworldly. her hair was tied back, her face pale but composed. your heart stuttered—recognition flickered like a match, only to be snuffed out by the fog of your fractured memories.
she walked toward you, her steps quickening as she saw you. the chair scraped against the floor as she sat across from you, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them together on the table.
“how are you?” mina asked, her voice soft, tentative. “did the surgery go well?”
you leaned back, your arms crossed. “why do you care?” your tone was cold, accusatory. “didn’t you cheat on me?”
mina flinched, the words hitting her like a physical blow. “i heard jennie was with you,” she said carefully, her voice wavering. “i... i promised to be there for you, but—” her composure cracked, and she looked down, her hands clenching into fists. “i got caught up in this mess.”
“so you’re admitting it?” you shot back, your voice rising. “you weren’t there because you were too busy being a criminal?”
“it’s not like that!” mina’s voice broke, her tears spilling over. “i was at the hospital, but then... then jennie came with all this police and i was arrested. i didn’t want this. i never wanted this.”
your mind swirled with confusion, her words sinking into the cracks of your doubt. "i know everything," you said abruptly, your voice low and steady, testing the waters.
mina's gaze sharpened, and a hint of her old defiance surfaced. "if you know everything," she retorted quickly, leaning forward slightly, "then why are you here? are you still doubtful?"
her words struck a nerve, and for a moment, you were caught off guard. "don't believe jennie," mina continued, her tone gentler now, almost pleading. "she's not who she says she is. i know i made mistakes, but i need you to trust me on this."
before you could respond, the guards approached, signaling the end of the visit. mina stood, her gaze locking onto yours, desperate and pleading.
“take care of yourself,” she said, her voice barely audible as the guards led her away. “please... just take care of yourself.”
as you left the prison, the cold air hit you like a slap, your thoughts a tangled mess. you stopped at a convenience store, grabbing medicine for your pounding headache. the clerk gave you a sympathetic look as you fumbled with the cash, muttering under your breath about how your head felt like it was splitting in two.
back at your apartment, darkness enveloped the space. you flicked on the lights, only to find kim jennie sitting on your couch, her posture tense, arms crossed, and expression stormy.
“where have you been?” she demanded, her voice sharp and tinged with something almost desperate.
you froze, your hand still on the light switch, blinking at her in confusion. “jennie? how did you get in here?”
her expression softened, a hint of vulnerability slipping through as she stood. “your spare key,” she murmured, holding it up briefly before setting it on the table. “i was worried. you weren’t answering my calls. i thought something might’ve happened.”
“worried?” you echoed, your voice unsure, the events of the day leaving you too drained to challenge her. “the one person who was causing me harm is in jail now, right?”
jennie’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped closer, her gaze steady on yours. “come on,” she said carefully, her voice dropping to a hushed tone. “you don’t remember everything yet, but you know how dangerous she is. i can't just sit by and do nothing.”
her words sent a flicker of unease through you, but it was hard to push back against the conviction in her tone. the gaps in your memory felt like a chasm, and jennie seemed to be the only one offering answers.
“i... i guess that makes sense,” you said slowly, your brows furrowing. “but still, jennie, coming in uninvited like this—i don't— i don't like anyone entering my apartment just like that..”
“i’m sorry,” she said quickly, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “i know it’s a lot, but you have to trust me. everything i’ve done is to protect you. you’re all i care about.”
your resolve wavered, her words settling heavily in your chest. “you keep saying that, but... it feels like too much sometimes.”
she stepped closer, her hand brushing against yours. “you’re scared. i get it. but you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here for you. always.”
her touch, her tone—everything about her presence felt suffocating as if your body is rejecting her touch. you exhaled, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly despite the lingering doubt in your mind. “okay,” you murmured. “thank you, jennie.”
her smile returned, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “good,” she said softly. “just promise me you’ll be careful. mina’s not who you think she is. remember that.”
you nodded, the weight of her words pressing down on you even as they left questions you couldn’t articulate. “i’ll try.”
she lingered for a moment, her gaze searching yours before finally stepping back. “i’ll go now,” she said, her voice gentle. “get some rest. and please... call me if you need anything.”
as the door clicked shut behind her, you stood there for a long moment, your thoughts a tangled mess of uncertainty and trust.
outside, jennie walked briskly to her car, her composed facade slipping away. frustration simmered beneath the surface as she pulled a small device from her pocket.
“you don’t see it yet,” she muttered, crouching beside your car to attach the tracker underneath. “but you’ll understand someday. i’m the only one keeping you safe.”
she straightened, brushing off her hands before slipping into her car. as she drove off, her jaw clenched, her thoughts racing. “you’ll thank me one day,” she whispered, her voice steely with determination. “i’ll make sure of it.” -----
the courtroom buzzed with tension as the trial commenced. spectators whispered in hushed tones, stealing glances at the defendant’s table where mina sat, her expression calm yet cold, betraying nothing. mr. han, her lawyer, stood confidently, a stack of meticulously prepared documents in front of him.
“your honor,” mr. han began, addressing the judge, “we have new evidence that will undoubtedly prove my client’s innocence.”
the prosecution raised an eyebrow, their lips curling into a skeptical smirk. “circumstantial evidence is hardly new, counselor. unless you have something more substantial, let’s not waste the court’s time.”
“on the contrary,” mr. han said smoothly, “the evidence i’m about to present is both new and compelling. security footage retrieved from the defendant’s penthouse reveals critical details about the night in question.”
the courtroom fell silent as a monitor was wheeled into view. mr. han nodded toward an assistant, who queued up the footage.
“this is from the surveillance camera outside ms. myoui’s residence,” mr. han explained. “pay close attention to the timestamps.”
the footage began playing, showing mina leaving her penthouse dressed in a sleek black coat, her movements poised and deliberate. the timestamp marked her departure at 8:15 p.m.
“now,” mr. han continued, gesturing toward the screen, “this next segment is from 8:32 p.m.”
the video cut to a different angle, this time showing a woman entering mina’s penthouse. she was clad in a striking red coat, her face obscured by a scarf and hat.
“notice the distinct red coat,” mr. han pointed out. “this individual is not my client. yet, at 8:45 p.m., she exits the penthouse holding the alleged murder weapon—the same knife identified as belonging to ms. myoui.”
gasps rippled through the room as the footage showed the woman leaving with the knife, her gloved hand clutching it tightly.
“your honor, this footage demonstrates that while the fingerprints on the knife may belong to my client, she wasn’t even present when it was taken from her residence,” mr. han concluded.
the prosecution stood, their expression unyielding. “this is circumstantial at best. a video of someone entering and exiting proves nothing without concrete evidence linking this individual to the crime. for all we know, this could be staged.”
mr. han didn’t flinch. “your honor, if the prosecution doubts the credibility of this footage, perhaps they’ll find the next piece of evidence more convincing.”
the courtroom tensed further.
“we have received additional evidence—photos and videos taken by the perpetrator themselves. these were submitted anonymously but corroborate the timeline and details of the incident.”
the prosecutor’s expression darkened. “objection! this evidence wasn’t disclosed during discovery. the defense is attempting to blindside us.”
mr. han’s composure wavered, frustration flashing in his eyes. “your honor, this is critical. withholding this evidence would be a miscarriage of justice. it directly impacts my client’s case and could determine her innocence.”
the judge leaned forward, their gaze piercing as they addressed the room. “you’ve been asking for substantial evidence, and now it’s presented before you. the court will accept it.”
the tension in the room broke as murmurs spread like wildfire. at the back of the room, an anonymous figure in a sharp blazer shifted in their seat—kim jennie. her jaw clenched, her annoyance barely concealed as she slipped out of the courtroom unnoticed.
the new evidence played, showing damning footage of the red-coated woman holding the knife and setting it down at the crime scene. her actions were deliberate, her face partially visible in some frames.
the judge deliberated briefly before delivering their verdict.
“after reviewing the evidence, it is clear that the defendant, myoui mina, is not guilty.”
relief flooded the room as mina’s parents embraced one another, tears streaming down their faces. sana and momo exchanged stunned glances before breaking into tentative smiles.
mina, though composed, allowed herself a small exhale of relief.
later, outside the courthouse, mina’s family and friends surrounded her. the air was thick with emotions—tears, laughter, and heartfelt embraces.
“you did it, mina,” momo said, her voice breaking slightly. “you’re finally free.”
“we never doubted you,” sana added, her bright smile tinged with emotion.
mina looked at them, her usually guarded demeanor softening. “thank you. all of you. i couldn’t have done this alone.”
mr. han approached, his expression a mix of pride and exhaustion. “it’s not over yet. we’ll need to investigate further to ensure the true culprit is brought to justice. but for now, enjoy this victory.”
mina nodded, her gaze turning toward the horizon. despite her freedom, a storm still brewed within her. there were questions unanswered, shadows lingering in the corners of her mind. -----
your office was unusually quiet that afternoon, the kind of stillness that made the ticking clock on the wall seem deafening. work was supposed to keep your mind occupied, but instead, it only made the unease growing in your chest feel sharper.
your phone buzzed, the vibration cutting through the silence. absentmindedly, you picked it up, intending to swipe the notification away, but your eyes caught the headline: “myoui mina acquitted—court declares her not guilty.”
the name felt... strange. familiar yet distant. it lingered in your mind like a faint melody you couldn’t place.
you stared at the screen, furrowing your brows. why did it feel like this mattered?
“jihyo,” you called out, your voice firmer than you expected.
your assistant poked their head into the doorway, their usual cheerful expression replaced by a cautious one. “yes?”
you grabbed your coat, your movements abrupt and hurried. “i need you to drive me somewhere.”
jihyo blinked in confusion. “uh, where exactly are we going?”
you hesitated for a moment, realizing you didn’t have a clear answer. “just—” you waved your hand vaguely. “just drive. i’ll figure it out.”
jihyo hesitated but grabbed their keys and followed you out of the office. the elevator ride down was quiet, your thoughts too tangled to make sense of.
once inside the car, you tapped your fingers restlessly on the armrest, staring out the window as the city streets blurred by.
“you okay?” jihyo finally asked, stealing a quick glance at you.
“i don’t know,” you admitted, surprising even yourself with the honesty. “just... something doesn’t feel right.”
jihyo frowned but didn’t press further. they focused on the road while you sank deeper into your thoughts. the name from the article kept replaying in your head, like an unsolved riddle begging for an answer.
you didn’t know where this drive would take you. all you knew was that you needed to move. -----
the car idled quietly outside the prison gates, jihyo tapping the steering wheel rhythmically. you sat in the passenger seat, furiously scribbling in a small notebook balanced precariously on your knee.
jihyo’s patience was running thin. “you know, when i said i’d help you, i didn’t sign up for prison stakeouts. care to explain why we’re here?”
without looking up, you muttered, “my ex-wife, who also happened to be my stalker, just got released. i need to know what she’s up to.”
jihyo stared at you, incredulous. “do you... hear yourself right now? we’re sitting outside a prison, watching your ex walk out, and you’re writing notes. i feel like you’re the stalker in this situation.”
your head snapped up, eyes wide with indignation. “what was that?!”
jihyo bit her lip, barely containing her amusement. “you heard me.”
you opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by jihyo pointing toward the gates. “oh, by the way, there she is. have fun.”
your head whipped around, all your irritation dissolving as your gaze locked onto mina. she stepped out with a composed air, her parents flanking her. her mother immediately pulled her into a tight hug, while her father rested a hand on her shoulder, saying something you couldn’t quite make out.
your pen moved instinctively: family-oriented.
jihyo leaned over, peering at your notebook. “are you seriously taking notes on her like she’s a science experiment?”
“it’s for... context,” you said vaguely, eyes glued to the scene outside.
“context for what?” jihyo demanded, throwing her hands up in exasperation.
you ignored them as your focus shifted to momo, who was bounding over with a small container in hand. she thrust it toward mina, her grin unmistakable even from this distance.
“just try it! it’s good for you!” momo chirped.
mina recoiled slightly, her nose scrunching up. she took the container hesitantly, sniffed its contents, and immediately handed it back, shaking her head with an expression that screamed absolutely not.
doesn’t like natto, you wrote down.
jihyo groaned, burying her face in her hands. “this is painful to watch. you’re like a teenager with a crush, but worse. at least teenagers are subtle.”
“what was that?” you asked distractedly, not bothering to look up.
“nothing. keep doing your weird... note thing.”
just then, sana appeared, holding hiro by the hand. her bright demeanor seemed to light up the area as she guided the boy toward mina. after a few quiet words, she lifted him into mina’s arms.
your brow furrowed, and you leaned closer to the window. “isn’t that girl too young to be a mom?”
jihyo stiffened, her expression suddenly awkward. “uh... well...”
you gave her a sideways glance, but her avoidance didn’t register as your focus returned to mina. she was holding hiro gently, her expression uncharacteristically soft as she spoke to him. her parents stood nearby, beaming proudly, while momo and sana exchanged quiet laughter.
you couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest—an unfamiliar mix of confusion, curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite name.
as the group began making their way to a waiting car, mina’s gaze wandered. her eyes landed on your car, her expression unreadable.
panic hit you like a freight train. you ducked so quickly that your knee hit the dashboard, eliciting a sharp yelp.
jihyo turned to you, her jaw slack. “what the hell are you doing?”
“shh!” you hissed, clutching your notebook to your chest. “she almost saw me!”
jihyo blinked slowly, her confusion palpable. “okay, so... just to be clear, you’re stalking your ex-wife to make sure she’s not stalking you?”
you glared at them, heat rushing to your face. “i’m not stalking her! i’m just... observing.”
“yeah, that totally makes it better,” jihyo said dryly, leaning back in her seat. “you know what? have fun with this. i’ll just be here, pretending i don’t know you.”
you shot them a glare but said nothing as your attention flicked back to mina’s car pulling away. once the coast was clear, you slowly sat up, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.
jihyo shook her head, muttering, “definitely not giving stalker vibes at all.”
you jabbed a finger in their direction. “i’ll deal with you later.”
jihyo smirked, rolling her eyes, tapping the steering wheel. “can’t wait.” -----
the café buzzed with quiet chatter and the hum of brewing coffee. you sat in a secluded corner booth, notebook open, pen in hand, eyes glued to the table where mina, sana, and momo were seated with hiro. they were laughing, the sound muffled by the distance, but the sight was enough to stir something odd in your chest—annoyance? curiosity? who could tell?
you scribbled in your notebook: two women—who are they? friends? accomplices? one is overly enthusiastic, other is quieter but equally engaged.
jihyo, seated across from you, sipped her coffee and squinted at your furious note-taking. “you look like you’re preparing for a criminal trial.”
“i’m gathering evidence,” you replied without looking up.
jihyo snorted. “evidence of what? that she’s having lunch with friends?”
before you could respond, your attention snapped back to mina. she picked up a piece of orange chicken with her chopsticks, her expression brightening as she chewed.
“likes orange chicken but doesn’t like natto,” you muttered, jotting it down. “what is she, a kid?”
jihyo burst out laughing, nearly spilling her coffee. “oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”
you glared at her. “what’s ridiculous is you treating this like a joke. this is serious.”
“serious stalking, maybe,” jihyo teased, leaning back in her chair. “you remind me of my younger self. you know, when i’d do dumb stuff for my crush.”
“i don’t have a crush,” you said defensively, snapping your notebook shut.
jihyo smirked. “sure you don’t. that’s why you’ve been obsessively documenting her every move.”
you opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself, focusing instead on the scene across the room. mina laughed at something momo said, her hand lightly brushing hiro’s hair. sana beamed, clearly enjoying the moment, her animated gestures adding life to their table.
“who even are those women? i saw them before, when i left the hospital with jennie” you asked, more to yourself than jihyo.
jihyo leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “friends. maybe family. maybe... rivals?”
you shot her a look. “are you trying to be helpful or make fun of me?”
jihyo shrugged. “depends. but listen, boss, if you really want my advice—”
“i’m not your boss right now” you interrupted.
she smiled slyly. “oh come on, and let me tell you, you weren’t as uptight back then. if you want to figure out what’s going on with her, stop overthinking and just... go with what feels right. not what other people are telling you.”
you frowned. “are you saying i should ignore the fact that she might be dangerous?”
jihyo hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “i’m saying you shouldn’t let someone else’s opinions—past or present—make decisions for you. your gut knows more than you think it does.”
you leaned back in your seat, chewing over her words as mina’s table erupted in laughter again. your pen hovered over the notebook, indecisive for the first time all day.
jihyo watched you, her expression softening. “just... don’t forget to breathe, okay? and maybe stop staring so hard. you’re gonna scare them off.”
“you’re terrible at this,” you muttered, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips.
jihyo grinned. “you’re welcome.” -----
your office was quiet, the hum of the city muffled by the thick glass windows. you were hunched over your desk, scribbling aimlessly on a piece of paper, trying to focus, when the door opened.
your head snapped up. standing there, as though he belonged, was your father.
“you shouldn’t be here,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.
he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “i thought it was time we talked.”
you leaned back in your chair, studying him with guarded eyes. “talk about what? about how you suddenly care now that i can’t even remember half my life?”
he flinched at your words, but his expression quickly settled into something calmer, almost pleading. “i care about you. i always have.”
“funny,” you said bitterly, standing and crossing your arms. “because that’s not what i’ve heard.”
“what are you talking about?” he asked, his brows furrowing.
you hesitated for a moment before your voice dropped, quieter but sharper. “remember when you took away my title as a lawyer to force me to marry mina?”
your father froze, his mouth opening slightly before he seemed to catch himself. “who told you that?”
“jennie,” you said simply, watching his face carefully.
“jennie…” he murmured, almost to himself. “she’s filling your head with lies—”
“don’t,” you interrupted, your tone icy. “she’s the only one who’s been honest with me. she’s been there when no one else was. not you, not mina. her.”
“you don’t remember everything,” he said, stepping closer, his voice trembling slightly. “you don’t know the full story. i—”
“and whose fault is that?” you snapped, cutting him off again. “you’re part of why i can’t piece my life together! you let this happen—you made this happen!”
his expression shifted, torn between anger and guilt. “i thought i was doing what was best for you.”
“best for me?” you repeated, your laugh bitter. “taking away my career? tying me to someone who clearly didn’t care about me? how is that ‘best for me’?”
he reached out, almost desperate now. “listen to me—”
you stepped back, your hands trembling as you clenched them into fists. “don’t touch me.”
the room fell into a suffocating silence, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of you.
“i’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice quiet but firm. “i didn’t know how else to—”
“save it,” you muttered, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. “you’ve done enough.”
without waiting for his response, you brushed past him and opened the door.
“i love you,” he called after you as you walked out.
you didn’t stop. the sound of the door closing behind you felt like the only closure you could give. -----
the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime as you stepped out, your gaze fixed on the notes you were scrolling through on your phone. it wasn’t until you looked up that you froze in your tracks. standing just a few feet away, waiting for the next elevator, was mina.
she was there in a crisp white blazer paired with tailored trousers, the kind of outfit that made her look effortlessly sophisticated. her hair fell neatly over her shoulders, tucked behind one ear to reveal pearl earrings. the mall’s lighting caught her just right, giving her an almost otherworldly air that made your breath catch.
your heart skipped a beat, and instinct took over before your mind could process. you stepped back into the elevator, jamming the close button with more force than necessary. the doors slid shut, leaving you staring at your slightly disheveled reflection in the mirrored walls.
what are you even doing?
you smoothed a hand over your clothes, tugging at your collar and brushing your hair back into place as if it would somehow prepare you. your palms felt clammy, and your heartbeat drummed in your ears.
“why am i acting like this?” you muttered under your breath, your tone frustrated. “she’s just mina. i shouldn’t be afraid of her.”
but the words felt empty, and deep down, you knew why. there was something about her presence that always made you feel like you were on uneven ground. still, the thought of running away didn’t sit right with you either.
mustering what little courage you had, you pressed the button to open the doors again. they slid apart, and you stepped out, only to find the hallway empty. she was gone.
confused, you glanced around before cautiously moving forward. as you turned a corner, you spotted her near one of the mall’s indoor fountains. her back was to you, but it was unmistakably her.
before you could decide whether to approach or leave, she turned. her eyes locked on yours immediately, like she had been expecting you.
“we need to talk,” mina said, her tone calm but resolute.
your breath hitched, and for a moment, you felt frozen, caught between unease and something you couldn’t quite name.
after a pause, you straightened your shoulders, trying to project confidence you didn’t fully feel. “fine,” you said, doing your best to sound composed. “let’s talk.”
you weren’t sure if you were convincing her—or yourself. -----
the private dining room at the top of the myoui skyscraper was a picture of opulence. floor-to-ceiling windows showcased a glittering city skyline, while the soft hum of classical music filled the air. a table set for two rested in the center, the glow of candlelight casting a warm hue over the elegant decor.
you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your fingers curling around the glass of water in front of you. the room felt too grand, too suffocating for a conversation you weren’t ready to have.
mina sat across from you, her appearance as immaculate as ever. her tailored black dress, paired with understated diamond earrings, only emphasized her composed demeanor. her posture was perfect, her hands folded delicately on the table, yet there was something in her gaze—soft but piercing—that made your chest tighten.
“thank you for agreeing to meet,” she began, her voice calm but measured.
“like i had much of a choice,” you muttered, glancing at the untouched plate before you.
she tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “you could’ve ignored me.”
“and let you keep hounding me? no thanks,” you retorted, your tone sharper than you intended.
a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “i suppose persistence runs in the family.”
you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “so? what is it you want this time, mina?”
she hesitated, her gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “i want you to work for me.”
you blinked, caught completely off guard. “excuse me?”
“i want you to join the myoui corporation as the head of our legal team,” she said evenly, her tone leaving no room for ambiguity.
a laugh escaped you, bitter and incredulous. “you’re joking.”
“i’m not,” she replied, her voice steady.
“you really think I’d leave my current job to work for you?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “what kind of game are you playing, mina?”
“this isn’t a game,” she said quietly, though her words carried weight. “i need someone i can trust in that position. and i want you."
“trust?” you repeated, the word sour in your mouth. “you don’t trust me, mina. you never did.”
her expression faltered for the first time, a flicker of something unspoken crossing her features. “that’s not true,” she said softly.
“it’s hard to believe anything you say,” you shot back, your grip tightening around the edge of the table. “especially when—” you hesitated, your breath catching as a memory surfaced, murky and incomplete.
mina’s gaze softened, and the vulnerability in her eyes was disarming. “go on,” she urged gently.
you shook your head, frustration bubbling over. “it doesn’t matter. what matters is that you cheated on me. you broke my trust, mina. why should i believe you now?”
she flinched, her composure wavering for a split second. “you’re right,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “i did. and i’ve regretted it every day since. but that doesn’t mean i’ll stop trying to make things right.”
you laughed again, the sound hollow. “you’re fucking shameless, you know that? offering me a job while spouting apologies. do you really think i’m that desperate?”
“it’s not about desperation,” she said firmly. “it’s about giving you the place you deserve. a chance to stand beside me, not behind anyone else.”
her words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, you couldn’t find a response.
“why are you looking at me like that?” you blurted out, your voice tinged with unease. “are you trying to seduce me or something?”
mina’s lips parted in surprise before a soft, humorless laugh escaped her. “no,” she said, shaking her head. “but i didn’t think you’d forget me so easily. or believe someone else over me.”
your chest tightened, anger and confusion swirling in equal measure. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
she hesitated, then stood, her movements slow and deliberate. “it means that i’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you remember who we were. to make you see me for who i really am—not the person someone else has painted me to be.”
you pushed your chair back, standing abruptly. “save your speeches, mina. i’m not the same person you once knew. i’m not that foolish, naive idiot anymore.”
“i know,” she said, her voice steady despite the sadness in her eyes. “but that doesn’t mean i’ll stop fighting for you.”
her words struck a nerve you couldn’t ignore, but you forced yourself to turn away, heading for the door.
as your hand gripped the handle, her voice stopped you. “don’t let someone else’s version of the truth define yours.”
you paused, her words cutting deeper than you cared to admit,.
“you said you're willing to do whatever it takes to make me remember,” you said without looking back. “maybe you should start by leaving me alone.”
and with that, you left, the weight of her words following you out into the night. -----
the car moved smoothly through the city streets, the hum of the engine a faint backdrop to your thoughts. you leaned back in the leather seat, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. it was supposed to be a quiet evening, nothing to complicate the uneasy calm you’d managed to maintain since that dinner with mina.
“take me back to my apartment,” you told the driver, your voice distracted as you tapped on your phone.
“yes.” the driver replied, the sound of the turn signal clicking as they merged into the appropriate lane.
just as you were about to close your phone, a notification popped up on the screen. your brow furrowed as you opened it—a qr code, sent from an unfamiliar number. beneath it was a name that caught your attention: strike & pitch corporate center.
you stared at the name, the vague sense of familiarity gnawing at the edge of your mind. the logo—a baseball bat crossed with a home plate—meant nothing to you, but something about it tugged at a memory you couldn’t place.
your fingers hovered over the message details. the sender was listed simply as you.
“what the hell?” you muttered under your breath.
the driver glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “everything okay?”
“change of plans,” you said abruptly, your tone sharp. “take me to... this place.” you held out your phone, showing him the address embedded in the qr code.
the driver hesitated. “are you sure?”
“just do it,” you snapped, a surge of frustration rising in you—not at the driver, but at the sense of disorientation that had become all too common lately.
as the car shifted direction, you stared out the window, gripping your phone tightly. the name, the logo, even the act of receiving the message—it all felt like a cruel game. like someone was nudging you toward something you weren’t ready to face.
strike & pitch corporate center. why did it feel like you’d been there before -----
as you stepped out of the car, the cool evening air enveloped you, biting at your skin. you hadn’t planned to be here, but the cryptic invite and the tug of something unexplainable had guided you to this unfamiliar, yet eerily nostalgic place. you clutched your phone tightly, staring at the faint glow of the qr code on the screen as you approached the entrance.
“welcome back,” the staff member at the door said, scanning the code. their tone carried a warmth that felt misplaced, like they knew something you didn’t.
you frowned, brushing past them. “back?” you muttered under your breath. the familiarity of the place clawed at your memory, a strange sense of déjà vu wrapping around you as you walked through the corridors.
the space was cavernous, its high ceilings illuminated by soft, artificial light. baseball memorabilia lined the walls, and the faint scent of leather and chalk filled the air. your eyes landed on a rack of bats. almost instinctively, you picked one up, the weight of it settling comfortably in your hands.
“huh,” you murmured, gripping it tighter as you made your way to the pitching machine. standing in front of it, you set yourself up, the bat raised.
the machine whirred, and you swung. the ball connected with a satisfying crack, soaring into the net at the other end. a rush of adrenaline pulsed through you, but before you could savor the moment, the sound of footsteps caught your attention. "you didn't miss." a cold voice said and your mind whirled some memory surfacing before you shake your head refusing to remember.
then came the sound of heels clicking against the floor. you turned, and there she was—mina.
she was stunning, her tailored black dress suit fitting her perfectly, exuding elegance. but it was her expression that unsettled you. there was no coldness, no detachment—just a quiet sadness that made you shift uncomfortably under her gaze.
“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than intended.
she held up her phone, her eyes steady. “you tell me.”
on the screen was the same invite you’d received.
you blinked, your confusion deepening. “i didn’t send that.”
“are you sure?” mina’s voice was calm, probing.
before you could respond, the lights dimmed, and a soft whirring sound filled the space. a projector came to life, casting a video onto the far wall.
your breath caught.
the first scene was unmistakable: your wedding day.
mina appeared on the screen first, seated in front of a vanity mirror. she was a vision in white, her wedding dress clinging to her frame like it was designed just for her. her makeup was flawless, yet her hands trembled slightly as she adjusted her veil.
“this is stupid,” past mina muttered, avoiding the camera. “why would i need a video like this? i don’t...” she trailed off, her reflection catching her eye.
“i don’t even know why i’m doing this,” she continued, her voice softening. “but if i’m watching this someday... maybe something’s gone wrong.” her lips pressed into a thin line. “maybe i’m regretting something. maybe i’m...” she faltered, shaking her head.
“just turn this off,” she said firmly, her voice laced with frustration. “turn it off and go back to work.”
there was a pause, and she glanced down, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her veil. “but if you’re still watching... i hope it worked. i hope i didn’t ruin it.” her voice broke slightly, and she looked away, blinking rapidly.
the screen shifted to another scene: you.
your past self sat in front of the camera, dressed in formalwear. you looked nervous, fidgeting with your hands, but there was a small, tentative smile on your lips.
“uh, hi,” you began awkwardly, glancing away before forcing yourself to meet the camera. “so... i guess this is for the future?” you chuckled nervously, running a hand through your hair.
“this isn’t what i imagined for myself,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “an arranged marriage wasn’t part of the plan, but... i guess life happens.”
you hesitated, your smile fading slightly. “i’m scared,” you confessed. “i don’t know her that well, and... she scares me a little. but...”
your past self looked down, then back up, determination flickering in your eyes. “but i want this to work. i want to be good to her. and i... i hope she’s good to me.”
your voice softened even more, as though speaking directly to your future self. “just... don’t make her cry, okay? promise me that
the screen went dark, and the lights came back on. you stood frozen, the weight of the past pressing down on you. you stood frozen, staring at the blank wall where your past self’s words had just played, echoing in your mind. beside you, mina was unnervingly still, her gaze fixed on the floor. the weight of the moment was suffocating, a mix of confusion, anger, and something else clawing at your chest.
a staff member appeared, breaking the quiet. they approached mina first, handing her a bouquet of white lilies.
“mrs. myoui, these are yours.” they turned to you, “you rented out the space about two months ago and asked us to deliver mrs. myoui her favorite flowers. you used to come here often.”
“when?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“three years ago,” they repeated, “and mrs. myoui was with you the last time. i think you guys were only developing your relationship back then.”
a small envelope was perched delicately on top of the flowers. mina hesitated for a moment before taking it, but before she could open it, your hand shot out, snatching the envelope from the bouquet.
“give me that,” you muttered, ripping it open. the paper inside felt fragile, like it might disintegrate under your touch.
the words written were unmistakably yours.
another happy anniversary, my love. i don’t know if i deserve you, but i’ll spend every day trying to. here’s to us.
your breath hitched, and a bitter laugh escaped your lips. “what the hell is this?” you said, holding up the letter. “why would i write something like this? why would i celebrate a marriage with someone who—”
“who what?” mina interrupted, her voice calm but tinged with sadness. “who hurt you? who made mistakes?” she took a step closer, her eyes soft but steady. “or someone who loved you, despite everything?”
you stared at her, anger flaring. “don’t twist this around. you cheated on me, mina. what are you trying to prove?”
mina flinched at your words, her composure cracking just slightly. “i don’t blame you for moving on,” she said quietly, her voice wavering. “but you didn’t move on. you erased me. and now, you won’t even question why.”
“because there’s nothing to question!” you shot back, your voice rising. “you think i’d believe anything you after everything you’ve done?”
mina stepped closer, her gaze unwavering now, piercing through you. “then don’t believe me,” she said firmly. “but don’t believe jennie, either.”
you froze at the mention of her name, a chill running down your spine. “what are you talking about?”
“she didn’t protect you,” mina said softly, the weight of her words sinking into the air. “she isolated you. she fed you lies about me because it benefited her. because she wanted you to depend on her.”
your jaw tightened, your grip on the letter trembling. “that’s not true. jennie’s always looked out for me.”
mina let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “looked out for you? she made sure you’d never question what she told you. she kept you away from me because she knew if you ever remembered... you’d realize the truth.”
her words hit like a hammer, each one cracking the foundation of your certainty. your gaze dropped, unwilling to meet hers, and instead, it landed on her hand. the light caught her wedding ring, the delicate band glinting softly.
you stared at it, your mind a chaotic mess. you couldn’t look at her anymore. you couldn’t think straight. the past you thought you knew, the anger you’d clung to—it all felt unsteady, like a house of cards ready to collapse.
“you don’t have to believe me,” mina said, her voice softer now, almost pleading. “just... don’t let her keep doing this to you. think for yourself. remember who you were.”
her words hung in the air as you turned away, the letter crumpled in your fist. your heart was racing, your mind screaming for clarity that wouldn’t come.
“i don’t know who i was,” you muttered, more to yourself than to her.
mina took a step back, her gaze lingering on you. “then figure it out,” she said quietly. “but don’t let someone else decide for you.”
her words followed you as you walked away, leaving her standing there with the flowers in her hands, a sad, defeated look on her face. -----
you stepped out of the car, your legs feeling heavier than usual as you approached the towering gates of jennie’s mansion. the chill in the night air wasn’t enough to explain the cold that settled deep in your chest. this wasn’t the first time you’d walked into this house, but tonight, everything about it felt... off.
the staff at the door greeted you with their usual professionalism, but their eyes lingered on you a moment too long, like they knew something they weren’t saying. you nodded briskly and entered, the echo of your footsteps against the marble floors amplifying the unease curling in your stomach.
each step closer to her room felt like crossing an invisible line, one you weren’t sure you could come back from. the hallway stretched endlessly, dim light pooling around your feet with every step. when you reached her door, you hesitated, your fist hovering in the air for a moment before knocking. the sound was hollow, unnervingly loud in the quiet.
“come in,” her voice called from the other side, smooth and detached, with an edge that made your chest tighten.
you pushed the door open and stepped inside. the smell of expensive perfume mixed faintly with the sharp tang of alcohol, wrapping around you like a suffocating haze. jennie was sitting by the window, draped in a silk robe that caught the dim light just right. her hair was loose, a little messier than usual, and a glass of amber liquid dangled loosely in her hand. she turned to look at you, her lips curling into a faint, unreadable smirk.
“well, if it isn’t you,” she said, her tone light but edged with something you couldn’t place. she raised her glass slightly in mock salute.
you didn’t sit down immediately, your eyes scanning the room. “what’s going on with you?” you asked, your voice steady but tinged with concern. “why are you drinking like this?”
she let out a soft laugh, the sound low and hollow, like a melody missing its key notes. “you’re worried about me,” she said, almost to herself. her gaze flickered to the glass in her hand before meeting yours. “that’s... sweet. it feels nice.”
the way she said it—like the idea of you caring for her was foreign—made your stomach churn.
“what’s so funny?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
“nothing,” she said, waving her glass slightly before taking another sip. “it’s just... ironic, i guess.”
“ironic?” you echoed, confused and irritated by her evasiveness.
she didn’t answer, her gaze distant as she stared out the window.
you exhaled sharply, deciding to cut through whatever game she was playing. “i didn’t come here for this,” you said firmly. “i have a question—”
“hold that thought,” jennie interrupted, standing abruptly. “i need another drink.” she glanced back at you over her shoulder, a ghost of her smirk returning. “want one?”
“no,” you said curtly, watching as she sauntered over to the door probably going to her own bar.
as soon as she disappeared from view, a faint buzzing sound drew your attention to the coffee table. her ipad screen lit up with a notification: footage system – recent upload available.
your curiosity spiked, your gaze darting between the ipad and the doorway where jennie had disappeared. after a moment’s hesitation, you picked it up, your fingers trembling slightly as you unlocked the screen.
the notification led to a video—grainy footage from a hidden camera. the thumbnail showed jennie and bambam in a car, their faces illuminated by dim interior lighting.
your heart thudded in your chest as you pressed play. the video was silent, but their body language spoke volumes. jennie leaned in close to bambam, her expression one of sharp intensity.
you zoomed in on the footage, trying to piece together the context.
the sudden sound of jennie’s footsteps snapped you out of your focus. your hands moved quickly, exiting the video and locking the ipad before placing it back down, your heart racing as you leaned back in your seat, feigning nonchalance.
jennie returned, another glass in hand. she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss as she sat down across from you, her movements fluid but slower than usual.
“so,” she said, swirling the liquid in her glass. “what was it you wanted to ask?”
you hesitated, your mind still reeling from the video. you struggled to gather your thoughts, your fingers twitching slightly in your lap.
“never mind,” you said finally, your tone tighter than you intended.
jennie tilted her head, her smirk returning but softer this time. “don’t ‘never mind’ me,” she said, her voice playful but with an edge. “you came all the way here. what is it you wanted to know?”
you took a steadying breath, trying to push aside the unease. “what’s going on with you, jennie? why are you like this?”
her smirk wavered, just for a moment, before she looked down at her glass. “do you ever think about just... leaving all this behind?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost wistful.
“what?” you asked, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
“the states,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “we could go there. start fresh. wouldn’t that be nice?”
you blinked, trying to make sense of her words. “what are you talking about?”
jennie smiled faintly, but there was no joy in it. “it’s funny,” she said, almost to herself. “being abandoned by everyone you care about. it’s lonely, but... freeing, in a way.”
her words hit you like a slap, but you didn’t let it show. “are you sure i was the one who was abandoned?” you asked, your voice cutting through the tension.
her mask cracked. her eyes widened ever so slightly, and for the first time, she looked genuinely vulnerable.
“do you think i’m lying?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of something raw and unguarded.
“it’s not that...” you started, but the words caught in your throat.
“then what?” she pressed, leaning forward. her gaze was piercing now, stripping away whatever defense you had left.
you stood abruptly, needing to get out of the suffocating room. “we’ll talk when you’re sober,” you said, your tone clipped as you turned toward the door.
before you could take another step, her hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. her grip was firm but trembling, her fingers cold against your skin.
“don’t go,” she whispered, her voice breaking ever so slightly.
you looked down at her hand, your stomach twisting. after a long pause, you gently but firmly pushed her hand away.
“goodnight, jennie,” you said, your voice quieter now but no less resolute.
as you walked out of the room, you could feel her gaze burning into your back. the soft clink of her glass against the table and the sound of her shaky exhale followed you down the hallway, echoing in your mind long after you’d left. -----
the room felt like it was closing in on you. everything about this space—your desk, the bookshelves, even the faint scent of coffee in the air—should’ve been familiar. but it wasn’t. not anymore.
you sat at your desk, phone in hand, your thumb hovering over jihyo’s contact. a shaky breath escaped your lips before you pressed call.
“hello?” her voice came through, warm but cautious.
“jihyo.” your voice cracked slightly, and you cleared your throat. “i need a favor.”
“what’s wrong?”
“i lost my phone,” you lied. the words felt like gravel in your throat. “and i need mina’s number. can you send it to me?”
there was a pause, heavy and almost unbearable.
“...you’re calling her?” jihyo finally said, disbelief in her tone.
“yes.”
“okay. give me a minute.”
the call ended, and you set your phone down, staring blankly at the wall. your chest felt hollow, the weight of the past few days pressing harder than ever.
your gaze wandered, landing on the small safe tucked in the corner. something about it tugged at you—a faint echo of a memory just out of reach.
without thinking, you got up and knelt in front of it. the keypad stared back at you, taunting.
you tried a few random combinations, each failed attempt chipping away at your patience.
and then, as if whispered by a ghost, a date surfaced in your mind. march 24, 1997.
you froze. the thought alone was enough to make your chest tighten.
hands trembling, you typed: 032497.
the lock clicked. the sound reverberated through the silence, startling you.
inside, neatly placed, was a leather-bound notebook, an envelope, and a charm—a delicate four-leaf clover encased in glass.
your hand hesitated over the charm first, a flicker of something—familiarity? longing?—coursing through you. setting it down, you picked up the notebook, its worn edges soft under your touch.
just as you opened it, your phone buzzed. jihyo’s text lit up the screen with mina’s number.
you stared at it for what felt like an eternity, your hand hovering just above the device. the thought of calling her felt like plunging into ice water, but the lingering ache from the diary’s words pushed you forward.
you picked up the phone with trembling hands, thumb hesitating over the number before pressing the call button.
the line rang once, twice—each second dragging like an eternity.
“hello?” mina’s voice came through, soft but cautious, and it hit you like a punch to the gut.
you swallowed hard. “mina.”
a pause. the way she said your name next was barely above a whisper. “is this really you?”
“i... we need to talk.” your voice was firmer than you expected, but inside, your heart was racing.
mina was silent for a moment, and you could hear her take a steadying breath. “what is this about?”
“where are you?” you asked, dodging the question.
she hesitated before answering, her voice carefully neutral. “at home.”
“i’m coming over,” you said without waiting for her permission, ending the call before she could respond.
you set the phone down with a shaky hand, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding. the tension in your chest didn’t ease—instead, it grew.
silence returned, but the weight of it felt different now. your gaze drifted back to the notebook, the pull of it irresistible.
sitting down on the floor, you opened it carefully, as if the pages might crumble beneath your touch.
the first line of handwriting stopped you cold. it was yours—messy, uneven, but undeniably yours.
you inhaled sharply as the first entry stared back at you.
april 2nd, 2023
the day we signed the marriage papers, i couldn’t look her in the eyes. i felt like i was selling my soul—or maybe just giving it away for nothing in return. she sat there, perfectly calm, her pen gliding across the pages like it was just another business deal. i wanted to scream at her, ask her why she was so okay with this, but instead, i just signed my name and sealed my fate.
when we left the gala she turned to me and said, “this is the best decision for both of us.” i almost laughed. i wanted to ask her, “best decision for who? you or your family?” but i didn’t. i just nodded and let her lead me into this life i didn’t ask for.
your chest tightened, and a dull throb echoed in your head. a blurry image flashed—a ring, her hand slipping it onto yours. your breaths grew shallow.
may 3rd, 2023
i don’t know what possessed me to start writing this, but... here we are. it feels kind of weird to pour all of this onto a page, but maybe it’ll help me figure things out. maybe it’ll remind me of why i agreed to this whole... arranged marriage thing. why i agreed to mina.
she’s cold, distant, and sometimes I think she hates me. but then... she’ll do something small, like bring me tea when i’m up late or adjust my tie before a meeting, and suddenly it’s like the ice cracks. i see her warmth, even if she doesn’t realize it’s there.
i don’t know what the future holds for us, but... i hope we can make this work. i hope she lets me in. i hope she doesn’t regret choosing me.
your breath hitched. suddenly, like a tide crashing over you, an image surfaced: mina, seated across from you in a sterile restaurant with her mother, her expression unreadable but her gaze piercing.
the ache in your chest deepened as you turned the page.
june 10th, 2023
we moved in together today. the house feels more like a museum than a home—cold, empty, too perfect. she barely said a word the whole time, just directed the movers like a conductor leading an orchestra. i tried to make conversation, but every time i spoke, it felt like my words hit a wall and fell to the ground.
that night, i sat alone in the living room, staring at the boxes i hadn’t unpacked. she walked in, her face as unreadable as ever, and handed me a cup of tea. “you should get some rest,” she said, her voice soft but distant. i wanted to tell her that rest was the last thing i needed, that i needed to feel like i wasn’t completely alone in this, but instead, i just nodded and watched her walk away.
august 27th, 2023
we had our first real fight today. it was about something stupid—her working late and not telling me. but somehow, it turned into this huge argument about communication and respect. for the first time, i saw her lose her composure. she snapped at me, her voice sharp and full of frustration, and for a moment, i thought she hated me.
but then, just as quickly, she softened. she apologized. i didn’t even know she was capable of that. “i’m not used to this,” she admitted, her eyes avoiding mine. “to... us.”
it wasn’t much, but it felt like a crack in the armor she always wore. for the first time, i thought that maybe—just maybe—there was a real person underneath all that perfection.
your hands trembled, the notebook growing heavier in your grip. you squeezed your eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the flood.
you saw her smile—soft, unguarded, so unlike the mask she wore for everyone else. it wasn’t just a memory; it was a feeling.
you flipped through the pages quickly, each word cutting deeper than the last.
december 1st, 2023
hiro came into our lives today.
it was mina’s idea to have an heir. at first, i thought she was doing it for appearances, to play the part of the perfect wife in the perfect family. but when she held him for the first time, i saw something in her eyes i’d never seen before: warmth.
she spent hours with him that first night, rocking him to sleep, whispering to him in japanese. i didn’t understand most of what she was saying, but it didn’t matter. the way she looked at him, the way her voice softened—it was like she was a completely different person. for the first time, our house felt like a home.
hiro.
the name hit you like a thunderbolt. flashes of a small boy—dark, curious eyes, a shy smile—flickered in your mind.
“hiro,” you whispered, the name feeling both foreign and familiar on your tongue.
your hands shook as you turned the page, desperate for more.
february 14th, 2024
valentine’s day. i didn’t expect her to even acknowledge it, but she surprised me. when i came to work that morning, there was a small bouquet of flowers on the table and a handwritten note. “thank you for putting up with me.” that was all it said. no grand declarations of love, no flowery prose—just a simple, honest message.
later that night, we sat together on the couch, hiro asleep in her arms. she leaned her head on my shoulder, and for the first time, it didn’t feel awkward or forced. it just felt... right.
may 30th, 2024
mina smiled at me today—not the polite, practiced smile she gives to everyone else, but a real, genuine smile. it was because of something stupid hiro did—he tried to feed his toy dinosaur some rice, and when it didn’t work, he threw the toy across the room in frustration. mina laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes, and when she looked at me, it was like she was letting me in on a secret.
in that moment, i realized something: the cold, distant woman i married was gone. in her place was someone who cared, someone who felt, someone who was learning how to love. and i think—no, i know—that i love her too.
your vision blurred as tears filled your eyes. the memories were rushing back, each one hitting you like a tidal wave.
the notebook slipped from your hands, landing open to another page.
you turned to the final entry, the ink slightly smudged as if it had been written in a rush—or through tears.
if we grow old together, i don’t want to forget you, mina. i don’t want to treat you like a stranger and forget. you’re the only person i want to remember.
as you read, the memories came rushing back—mina’s laugh, her touch, the way her walls slowly came down over time.
you remembered the way she looked at you the day hiro was born, the way her hand lingered in yours just a little too long. you remembered the sound of her voice as she read bedtime stories to hiro in japanese, her soft laughter as she stumbled over the english translations.
and most of all, you remembered the way she smiled at you that night on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, her guard finally—finally—down.
it was like a dam had broken inside you, the memories flooding back all at once, overwhelming and painful and beautiful.
as you moved to stand, your gaze landed on the open notebook once more. a faint metallic glint caught your eye, and you reached down to pick up the lucky charm that had fallen earlier.
your fingers brushed over its smooth surface, the glass cold against your skin.
you looked back at the diary, looking at the final page again, where your past self had poured everything out in raw, desperate handwriting.
“i don’t want to treat you like a stranger and forget. you’re the only person i want to remember.”
the irony of it all felt like a cruel joke.
your fingers curled tightly around the charm as you turned to leave, stuffing it into your pocket. you didn’t bother closing the diary, leaving it open on the desk like a scar you couldn’t bring yourself to cover.
whatever awaited you at mina’s, it couldn’t hurt worse than this.
at least, that’s what you told yourself. -----
you were gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white. the road ahead blurred through your tear-streaked vision, headlights casting fleeting shadows on the empty streets. your heart felt like it was caught in a vice, the weight of your emotions threatening to drown you.
you dialed jihyo’s number, voice breaking as you spoke. "jihyo, please follow my location... i need you to come." you didn’t give an explanation—there wasn’t time. your hands were shaking as you hung up.
your hands fumbled to send your live location as you navigated towards the address mina had given you. the snowy streets seemed endless, every passing moment a reminder of the distance between you and her.
"i’m sorry," you whispered to the empty car, to yourself, to mina. "i’m so sorry for everything. for hurting you." your voice cracked. "for forgetting you."
meanwhile, miles away, a notification pinged on jennie’s phone—a tracker alert. her jaw tightened as she opened the app, her fury mounting as she saw your car’s movement.
"what the hell are you doing?" jennie hissed under her breath, slamming her glass of wine down as she grabbed her coat and stormed out of her room.
the cold air bit at you the moment you stepped out of the car, but it didn’t register. all you could focus on was the lump in your throat, the suffocating guilt, the overwhelming fear that you wouldn’t make it in time.
the address mina had given you echoed in your head like a mantra. and there, through the flurry of snowflakes, you saw her.
mina.
she stood just outside her penthouse, wrapped up against the cold, her face illuminated by the harsh lights of the building. she spotted you immediately, and for a moment, her expression softened—relief flooding her features as she began walking briskly towards the lane.
you mirrored her movement, your heart pounding in your chest as you closed the distance. you were so close.
"stay there!" mina shouted, her voice sharp but trembling with emotion. "don’t move—i’ll come to you!"
you nodded, tears still streaming as you stood frozen on your side of the lane, the red light glowing between you. the snow muffled everything except the sound of your racing heartbeat.
but as she waited, a car suddenly came screeching from the side, its headlights blinding. before you could react, someone grabbed you, yanking you back. the world spun as you felt yourself being dragged, your cry swallowed by the sound of a truck roaring past mina’s view.
mina’s steps faltered, her eyes wide with confusion as the truck cleared the lane, and you were gone.
"no!" her voice cracked, rising in pitch as panic set in. she ran to the spot, her breaths ragged, her heart pounding in her ears. "where are you?! where did you go?!"
she spun around, her wide eyes scanning the empty street, her chest heaving. "this can’t be happening," she whispered, her voice shaking as she stumbled forward, desperate.
but you were gone.
minutes passed. the snowfall grew thicker, masking the world around her. mina’s breaths came in sharp gasps now, her composure crumbling as the realization set in.
"where are you..." she murmured, her voice breaking. she stumbled to the curb, gripping the icy edge of a lamppost as her legs threatened to give out.
she stopped, suddenly still, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
"this can’t be happening," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. her hands gripped her head, her knuckles white with the effort. "no... no, not again..."
minutes later, jihyo arrived, stepping out of her car with wide, worried eyes. "where are they?"
mina whirled around, her voice breaking. "they were here! i saw them—they were right there!" she pointed to the spot across the lane, her hand trembling.
jihyo pulled out her phone, quickly accessing the tracker. "i’ve got their location," she said, her voice firm.
mina didn’t wait for an explanation. "get in the car," she ordered, her tone urgent.
the two women climbed into jihyo’s vehicle, the tracker blinking with every second as they sped off into the night.
mina stared out the window, her fists clenched so tightly her nails bit into her palms. her mind raced with fear and dread.
"just hold on," she whispered, as though willing the universe to listen. "please, just hold on." -----
you woke with a jolt, your head pounding, confusion clouding your mind. the room you were in was unfamiliar, cold. disorienting. the soft rustle of footsteps echoed through the silence, growing louder, and your pulse spiked. instinct kicked in, and before you could even think, you grabbed a vase from the nearby table, clutching it like a weapon. you squeezed your eyes shut, your heart pounding in your chest as you held your breath.
the footsteps grew closer. closer. the door creaked open. without a second thought, you swung the vase with all your strength. it collided with the man who entered, sending him stumbling back, groaning in pain. you didn’t wait for him to recover. you bolted.
you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, into the living room, trying to make sense of your surroundings. and then you saw her. jennie. standing in the middle of the room, the barrel of a shotgun resting casually in her hands, her cold gaze locked on you.
the sight of her hit you like a punch to the gut. flashes of your past with jennie, your past engagement, the trips to the kim family’s hunting grounds—everything you once thought you knew about her rushed back, only to feel utterly wrong in the moment.
memories flickered and died, their edges sharp and disjointed. you couldn’t grasp them, couldn’t hold onto them long enough to make sense of anything.
your mind was racing, but your body was frozen. you couldn’t move.
the bodyguard, the one you’d knocked out earlier, entered the room, disheveled, his face twisted with guilt as he bowed to jennie. "sorry, miss," he muttered, his voice low. "i failed."
jennie waved him off, her voice ice-cold. "it’s fine. you’re dismissed." she didn’t spare him another glance as he hurried out of the room.
it was just the two of you now.
jennie took a step forward, and you instinctively took a step back. her eyes locked on yours, her gaze piercing through you. "what are you doing?" she asked, her voice deceptively calm. "visiting mina?"
the words twisted in your chest. everything in you screamed to lie, to avoid the confrontation, but you couldn’t. "did you take me against my will?" you spat, your voice trembling despite the anger.
her eyes hardened, her lips curling into a cold smirk. "i didn’t want you to get hurt," she said, her tone eerily smooth. "mina's manipulation runs deep. you can’t see it, but i can. i couldn't let you go back to her. not after everything she’s done to you."
you shook your head, struggling to keep your composure. "i—" you hesitated, your thoughts jumbled. "i was there because i read a book," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "it had information about mina… and our marriage."
a flicker of doubt crossed jennie’s face, but she quickly masked it. her eyes narrowed slightly, her hand tightening around the shotgun, as if it would somehow give her control of the situation. "a book," she repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. "you expect me to believe that?"
you rushed to recover, trying to regain some sense of control. you forced a smile, one that felt wrong on your lips. "maybe it was someone copying my handwriting," you said, almost sweetly. "but you… you could’ve just taken me back home, jennie. you don’t have to do this." "jennie, let's go back home. i'm sorry for doubting you, i won't ever do it again. i promise." you mumble your hands shaking as you tried to appear confident.
for a moment, jennie didn’t respond, just watching you with those cold, calculating eyes. you could feel her presence, heavy, suffocating. her fingers brushed your cheek, a touch so gentle, it almost made you flinch. "no," she said simply. "we’re leaving for the U.S. tonight. at midnight."
the words felt like a slap. your stomach dropped, your mind spinning. "what?" you asked, your voice shaking. "no, jennie. i—"
she cut you off, her voice cold, final. "don’t fight me on this. you’re coming with me, whether you like it or not."
your pulse quickened. "no," you repeated, shaking your head. "jennie, please. i—"
before you could say anything more, the door crashed open, and the guards stormed in, grabbing you roughly. you fought back, your body thrashing as they overpowered you, dragging you through the hallway and into a private bedroom.
your heart raced in your chest. you were panicking, trying to think of a way out, but your mind was a blur. the guards shoved you into the room, tossing you onto the bed with a force that made you fall while your leg bumped the bedside table. you tried to scramble to your feet, but the door slammed shut behind you with a deafening thud. you groan at the pain settling and and sat down at the floor.
you were trapped. suffocating. everything felt like it was closing in.
you didn’t know how to escape. you didn’t know how to fix this.
and yet, you couldn’t stop fighting. you wouldn’t give up. not yet.
-----
the car came to a jarring stop, tires skidding slightly on the icy road as jihyo glanced nervously at the imposing gates ahead. the storm was worsening, with thick snowflakes swirling like a suffocating veil, obscuring the land beyond. mina barely noticed. her eyes were locked on the ominous wooden sign by the gate, the words carved deep into the aged surface: “BEWARE KIM’S PROPERTY.”
her breath clouded in the freezing air as she stepped out of the car. jihyo scrambled to follow, calling out, “mina! wait! what are you doing?”
mina didn’t answer. her mind was racing, her heart pounding in her chest. she could barely feel the cold biting at her skin as she took in the high stone walls and shadowed periphery of the property. every instinct screamed danger, but that didn’t matter. not when they could be here.
jihyo caught up, grabbing mina’s arm. “this is insane! look at this place! we don’t even know if they’re already gone!”
mina yanked her arm free, her voice sharp and unyielding. “i know they’re here, jihyo. i can feel it.” she turned to face her, eyes blazing despite the storm. “call the cops if you want, but i’m not waiting for anyone.”
jihyo hesitated, fear and worry evident on her face. “mina, this isn’t—”
“just do it!” mina hissed before turning back to the gate. she crouched low, her sharp eyes scanning the grounds beyond. the guards were spread out, moving methodically through their patrols, but the snowfall worked to her advantage, obscuring her from their view.
clenching her fists to steady herself, she edged along the wall, searching for any sign of an opening. her breath came in shallow gasps as the cold air burned her lungs. her coat wasn’t nearly enough for this weather, and her fingers were quickly going numb, but she pressed on.
finally, her hand brushed against a patch of uneven stone near the base of the wall. squinting through the storm, she realized it wasn’t just stone—there was a narrow drainage grate embedded in the ground. it was small, barely big enough for someone her size to squeeze through.
mina knelt, her heart hammering as she tugged at the grate. it didn’t budge. she cursed under her breath, glancing over her shoulder at the guards in the distance. her fingers fumbled with the cold metal, pulling harder until her palms ached. the storm muffled most sounds, but she couldn’t risk making too much noise.
finally, with a grating screech that made her flinch, the metal shifted. she slipped inside, landing awkwardly on the frozen ground below. the narrow tunnel smelled of damp earth and rust, the faint trickle of melting snow dripping somewhere nearby. she crawled forward, her knees scraping against the uneven surface.
the passage seemed endless, and for a moment, panic set in. her breath came faster, her chest tightening as the walls pressed in around her. but then she saw it—a faint glow at the other end.
mina emerged into a small utility shed, the interior dimly lit by a flickering overhead bulb. it must have been part of the property’s maintenance area, though it looked like it hadn’t been used in years.
she pushed the door open just a crack, peering out. the main estate loomed ahead, its towering structure dark against the snowy backdrop. guards were stationed closer now, their heavy boots crunching through the snow as they patrolled.
mina’s pulse quickened. she had no idea how she would get past them, but there was no time to think. she adjusted her coat, pulling it tighter around herself to blend into the shadows as best she could.
the snow made it harder to move quietly, every step leaving tracks that could give her away. she hugged the wall, slipping between hedges and outbuildings, her heart lurching every time a flashlight beam swept too close.
then, as she rounded a corner, her foot caught on a patch of ice. she stumbled, barely catching herself before hitting the ground. the noise drew the attention of a nearby guard.
“who’s there?” the man called, his flashlight cutting through the darkness.
mina’s breath hitched. she pressed herself against the wall, praying the storm would mask her presence. the guard moved closer, his footsteps crunching louder with every step.
her fingers brushed against something in her pocket—a small, loose rock she’d picked up earlier without thinking. she gritted her teeth, then tossed it toward the opposite end of the yard. the faint clatter was enough to draw the guard’s attention, and he turned away, muttering curses as he went to investigate.
mina exhaled shakily, her legs trembling as she forced herself to move again. she was close now. just a little further.
then she saw it—a side entrance, half-hidden by an overgrown hedge. the door was locked, but as her hand brushed against the handle, it gave way with a faint click.
a rush of relief flooded her as she slipped inside, her heart pounding in her ears. she was in.
the interior was dark and unwelcoming, the faint smell of gun oil and wood lingering in the air. it looked like some sort of storage area—rows of cabinets lined the walls, along with hunting gear that seemed meticulously maintained. the eerie silence made her hyperaware of every sound she made, from her shallow breaths to the soft crunch of snow still stuck to her boots.
mina moved cautiously, staying close to the walls as she navigated through the room. every shadow seemed to shift, every creak of the old wooden floorboards setting her nerves on edge. the estate was much larger up close, and it was clear she was nowhere near the main living quarters.
just as she turned a corner, a sudden sound made her freeze.
footsteps. close. deliberate.
her heart jumped into her throat as she pressed herself flat against the wall, her hands trembling. a flashlight beam swept across the room ahead, casting long, menacing shadows that danced across the walls.
“thought i heard something…” a low voice muttered, the guard’s tone sharp with suspicion.
mina bit down on her lip, her breath barely audible as she gripped the edge of a nearby cabinet for balance. her mind raced, weighing her options. run? hide? fight? none of them seemed feasible, not with the guard just a few feet away.
the footsteps grew louder, and she could see the edge of the flashlight’s beam creeping closer. she shifted slightly, her hand brushing against something cold and metallic on the cabinet—a hunting knife, still in its sheath. she didn’t think; she just grabbed it, tucking it into her coat.
the guard’s shadow loomed larger, the beam of light now just inches from her hiding spot. her pulse thundered in her ears as she backed further into the darkness, every instinct screaming at her to move, to escape, but her legs refused to obey.
“i swear i heard something,” the guard said again, stepping fully into the room. his flashlight swept over the cabinets, the hunting gear, the floor—and then, just as it began to drift toward her corner—
a loud crash echoed from somewhere deeper in the estate.
the guard cursed, spinning on his heel. “damn it. what now?” he muttered, hurrying toward the noise.
mina didn’t move for a long moment, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as she listened to his retreating footsteps. she clutched the knife tighter, her palms slick with sweat despite the freezing cold.
finally, when the silence stretched long enough to feel safe, she forced herself to move, her legs trembling as she slipped further into the estate.
but the reprieve was short-lived. another sound reached her ears—not the crash this time, but something softer.
a voice. faint, distant, yet unmistakable.
“mina…”
her blood ran cold, her steps faltering.
it wasn’t possible. was it?
she turned slowly, her breath hitching as she strained to listen. the voice came again, clearer this time.
“mina…”
her name, spoken in a tone that sent shivers down her spine. it wasn’t the guard. it wasn’t anyone she expected.
before she could process what was happening, the beam of another flashlight lit up the hallway just ahead of her.
“there! someone’s here!”
her heart stopped. -----
you pressed your ear against the cold wooden door, listening for any sounds beyond it. muffled footsteps and occasional voices filtered through, but nothing distinct enough to tell you how many guards were stationed nearby.
your mind raced. you needed to get out of here—but how? the barred window offered no escape, and the door was locked from the outside.
in a moment of desperation, you banged on the door, feigning panic.
“help! i need help!” your voice cracked, laced with urgency.
the footsteps outside stopped.
“what’s wrong in there?” a gruff voice called.
“please, it’s an emergency!” you continued, your tone shaking. “there’s glass everywhere, and i think i cut myself. i’m bleeding!”
the handle jiggled, and you stepped back, holding your breath.
the door creaked open, revealing one of jennie’s guards—a burly man with a skeptical look on his face. his eyes swept the room before landing on you.
“where’s the glass?” he asked, his tone wary.
you widened your eyes, feigning distress as you gestured vaguely toward the table.
“it—it fell over there,” you stammered, taking a small step closer to him.
he turned his head slightly, and that was all you needed.
with a swift, calculated movement, you clenched your fist and drove it into his jaw. the impact sent a sharp pain shooting through your knuckles, but it was worth it—the guard staggered back, stunned.
before he could recover, you grabbed the back of his head and slammed it against the doorframe. he crumpled to the floor with a groan, unconscious.
your chest heaved as you stepped over his limp body, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
the hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit and eerily quiet. you moved quickly, trying to make sense of the maze-like layout.
muffled voices filtered through the walls, catching your attention. you froze, pressing yourself against the wall beside it.
you peeked around the corner. jennie stood by the fireplace, her back to you, one hand holding the phone while the other rested casually on a shotgun.
the sight made your blood run cold.
the memory hit you like a freight train—the long hunting trips to the kim family's private grounds, jennie’s eerie calm as she taught you to aim. it was all too familiar, yet so jarringly wrong in this moment.
“…yes, everything is under control,” jennie’s voice carried through, calm but laced with a strange edge.
a man responded, his tone low and familiar, though you couldn’t quite place it. your chest tightened, the sound pulling at something buried in your memory, but there was no time to linger on it.
rounding a corner, you froze.
mina.
she was crouched near a window, her eyes scanning the area looking at the guards patrolling. "mina..." you whispered annoyed and slightly shocked wondering what she's doing here. your breath was caught seeing her holding what appeared to be a hunting knife.
you whispered her name once again low, but urgent. a guard was rounding the corner, the beam of his flashlight sweeping closer to where mina was hiding. he muttered something into his radio, his voice low but sharp, signaling that he was seconds away from discovering her.
your body moved before your mind could catch up. you spotted a breaker box on the wall nearby, its metal panel slightly ajar. without hesitation, you yanked it open and scanned the switches in the dim glow of a nearby emergency light.
the guard’s flashlight beam shifted, now aimed directly toward mina.
“someone’s here—”
you flipped the main breaker switch, plunging the hallway into total darkness.
“what the—!” the guard’s voice rang out in confusion, followed by the sound of his hurried footsteps as he stumbled blindly in the dark.
mina’s silhouette turned sharply in your direction, her expression barely visible in the faint emergency light.
“come on,” you hissed, motioning for her to follow.
she hesitated, her breathing unsteady, before rising to her feet and moving toward you.
“what the hell are you doing here?” you whispered, your voice barely above a hiss.
“trying to get you out,” she shot back, standing up. her expression was a mixture of relief and exasperation.
“mina, this place is dangerous—”
“you think i don’t know that?” she cut you off, grabbing your arm. “we need to move. now.”
behind you, faint noises of confusion and shuffling echoed through the halls. guards barked orders, their flashlights cutting weak beams through the pitch-black maze of corridors.
you reached the door, its cold metal handle freezing to the touch as you twisted it open. the icy wind slapped your face, but freedom was close.
“come on,” you urged, pulling mina through. the two of you slipped outside, the snowstorm swallowing the faint sound of voices yelling within the estate.
but as you stepped out into the open air, you glanced back—just in time to see a flashlight beam bouncing erratically through the window, followed by the unmistakable silhouette of jennie.
for a moment, she stood frozen, her sharp gaze sweeping the now-empty hallway inside. then, realization struck.
you saw it—her head tilting slightly, lips parting in disbelief. and then rage.
jennie moved like a predator, yanking a shotgun off the rack by the door and shoving past the confused guards who stumbled out behind her.
“they’re out there,” she barked, the fury in her tone cutting through the chaos.
mina tugged on your sleeve. “we have to go.”
you nodded, your grip tightening on her hand as you broke into a sprint. the snowstorm worked in your favor, the thick flurry obscuring you from view as you darted toward the treeline.
but jennie was relentless.
behind you, the crunch of heavy boots through snow grew louder, the distinct metallic click of the shotgun’s safety being turned off making your blood run cold.
“you think you can just walk out?” her voice rang out, sharp and furious.
you didn’t dare stop, your breath ragged as you pushed mina ahead of you.
“keep going,” you urged, glancing over your shoulder.
through the swirling snow, you saw the faint glow of jennie’s flashlight slicing through the darkness, drawing closer.
mina hesitated for a second, looking back as well. “she’s—”
“don’t stop,” you interrupted, pulling her along. “we’ll make it.”
but the storm was thick, and the sound of jennie’s pursuit was unrelenting. every step felt like a gamble, each second another chance for her to close the gap.
you knew it was only a matter of time before she caught up.
-----
the snow fell heavier now, the bitter chill cutting through the thin fabric of your coat. you staggered forward, your steps uneven and slow, each one a monumental effort. your leg throbbed from earlier, the pain pulsing in sharp waves up to your hip, but you kept moving.
"just... a little more," you muttered under your breath, barely audible over the crunch of snow beneath your boots.
mina was ahead, glancing back every few seconds, her eyes sharp and full of worry. "we don’t have time for this," she said, urgency laced in her voice. she moved to your side, slipping an arm under your shoulder to help support your weight.
"no," you rasped, your voice breaking. you pushed at mina’s arm weakly. "you go first. just... get out of here. i’ll catch up."
mina stopped, glaring at you with a mix of frustration and desperation. "don’t you dare say that to me."
you gave a bitter laugh, your breath visible in the frigid air. "you don’t... understand. i’m slowing you down. if something happens..." you paused, your voice trembling. "i can’t lose you again."
mina froze, the words hanging between you like a weight too heavy to carry. but then she shook her head, her jaw tightening as she gripped your arm tighter.
"stop talking like that," she said firmly, her voice cracking just slightly. "we’re getting out of here together."
your legs buckled slightly, and mina adjusted quickly, holding you upright. "mina," you whispered, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "i’m sorry."
"for what?" mina hissed, trying to move you forward.
"for forgetting you." the words came out broken, each one heavy with guilt. "for leaving you behind… for not being there when you needed me most."
"stop." mina’s voice was sharp, her breath hitching. "this isn’t the time for this."
"but it’s true," you said, your head dropping slightly. "i forgot everything about you. about us. i..." your voice faltered. "i don’t deserve you."
"i—" you started again, but she shook her head sharply, her grip on your arm tightening even more.
"don’t," she said, her voice trembling. "don’t apologize right now. this isn’t the time, okay? we can talk about all of that later, but right now, you need to focus on getting out of here. i can’t do this without you. do you understand me?"
the sound of distant engines broke through the air, pulling you out of the moment. the glow of headlights pierced the trees, growing brighter with every second.
"we have to move," mina said, her voice steady despite the panic in her eyes.
"okay," you murmured, nodding slightly. "okay."
meanwhile, back at the entrance, jihyo was surrounded by chaos. the cops had arrived in full force, tactical teams storming the hunting grounds, their voices crackling through radios. a helicopter roared overhead, its spotlight cutting through the snowstorm.
jihyo’s phone buzzed in her hand, but she barely registered it. her focus was on the team moving in, her heart pounding in her chest. "find them," she urged, her voice shaking.
inside the estate, jennie stood before a wall of cctv monitors, her eyes scanning frantically. then she saw it—a glimpse of you and mina, your figures barely visible as you disappeared into the woods. her jaw clenched, and without hesitation, she grabbed the shotgun leaning against the wall.
"they’re not getting away," she muttered, storming out.
the guards scattered as jennie shoved her way through, ignoring the commotion around her. she didn’t wait for backup or explanations, her sole focus on the escapees. the crunch of snow beneath her boots echoed in her ears as she reached her car, the shotgun clutched tightly in her hands.
back in the woods, you and mina trudged forward, the snow blurring your vision. you stumbled again, nearly collapsing, but mina caught you, her arms trembling from the effort.
"you’re not stopping," mina said firmly.
"mina..." you whispered, your voice weak. "i..."
"you can apologize later," she snapped, though her voice wavered. "just keep going. please."
far behind you, the sound of an engine roared to life. jennie was on the move.
-----
the snow fell quietly, coating the ground in a soft, thick blanket. every step felt like a battle, your legs shaking from the pain of being thrown earlier. you leaned on mina for support, her presence grounding you when everything else seemed to be slipping away.
"thank you... for everything," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the wind. it felt like you were saying goodbye, like the weight of everything—every betrayal, every lie—was crashing down on you all at once.
mina’s grip on your arm tightened, her face hard with determination. "don't say that," she muttered, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "we’re not done yet. we're getting out of here, together."
your legs faltered again, and you stopped for a moment, guilt clawing at your chest. "i... i regret suspecting you. all this time..." you trailed off, the weight of your own emotions nearly crushing you. mina was here with you, and yet you’d spent so long doubting her. you couldn’t make sense of it.
"it’s not your fault," mina whispered, her voice low, but there was a softness in it that cut through your pain. "we’ll fix this. stay with me." she pulled you closer, moving with you through the snow, her footsteps quick and purposeful.
but far away from where you and mina were, jennie’s car sped down the winding road, tires screeching on the icy pavement. her face was a mask of fury, eyes cold and unblinking, focusing on the road ahead. she spotted the figures of you and mina walking through the trees, her heart pounding in her chest. the sound of helicopter blades overhead, the rising wail of police sirens, it didn’t matter. all that mattered was you.
she slammed her foot on the brake and jerked the wheel, sending the car to a stop. she didn’t care about anything else—she grabbed the shotgun from the passenger seat and stormed out into the cold, her breath coming out in sharp bursts, her grip on the weapon tight enough to turn her knuckles white.
"you’re making a mistake," jennie shouted, her voice sharp, venomous. she marched forward, the snow crunching under her boots as she advanced toward you and mina. "we agreed! we were going to leave together! come back to me now, and i'll turn a blind eye. everything can go back to the way it was."
you could barely stand, your legs giving way as you leaned more heavily against mina. the pain in your body, the pressure of the situation—it was almost too much to handle. "i’m sorry," you said, barely able to form the words through the lump in your throat. "even when i didn’t have my memories... i couldn’t choose you. my body... rejected you." the words tasted bitter, but they were true. you could still feel the unease, the way your chest tightened whenever jennie was near.
jennie’s face twisted in disbelief, but it quickly morphed into something darker. her eyes burned with rage. "why? why do you feel like that?" she shouted, her voice breaking with frustration, with hurt, with anger. “why?!” jennie shouted, her voice a raw mix of anger and desperation. she took another step closer, her face twisted in fury. “i waited! i fucking waited! why, after everything, does it have to be this way? why is it always mina?”" her eyes flashed, her entire body radiating fury. "i waited for you! i was patient. i tried to understand, so why... why would you feel uneasy around me?"
“you don’t understand—”
“then explain it to me!” jennie screamed, her voice echoing through the woods. the shotgun in her hands trembled, and for a moment, her tears seemed to overpower her rage.
“because you’re not her,” you choked out, tears spilling over. “because even when i forgot everything, something in me still remembered her. she’s the one i choose, jennie. not you.”
mina stepped forward, her voice sharp and protective. "jennie, stop. it’s over. they’re with me now. just let it go."
but jennie’s rage only intensified, her entire demeanor changing in an instant. "it’s NOT over," she spat, her voice shaking with fury. "you don’t get to choose! you made a promise, and i’ve waited too long for this."
she moved closer, her voice desperate now, but still full of anger. "we can start fresh. just come back to me, please. i’ll forget all of it. we can fix everything, we can be happy again."
she reached out, her hand trembling slightly but firm. it was as if she was offering you everything—control, power, redemption, and yet, all you could feel was the suffocating weight of her possessiveness, the coldness that came with every word. you took a shaky breath and stepped back.
"stop," you shouted for the first time, your voice breaking through the noise, through the confusion, through the chaos. "stop it, jennie. snap out of it." your voice cracked under the weight of the emotion, of everything that had built up. "i’ll never choose you. over my dead body."
for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the helicopter, the wind, and the silence that followed. jennie’s face faltered for just a moment—a split second where the facade of calmness, the softness in her eyes, disappeared completely. rage burned in her chest, and the mask shattered. the pleading, the calmness—it was gone. in its place was something terrifying.
she looked at you, her mouth curling into a snarl, her grip on the shotgun tightening. "over your dead body," she hissed, voice low and deadly.
the tension was unbearable. you could feel the weight of her anger, the pressure of her presence pushing down on you like a vice. mina was standing between you and jennie now, her face set in a look of fierce determination. she was ready to protect you, no matter what.
and just as the helicopter overhead cast its blinding light onto you and mina, the sirens echoing louder and louder, jennie’s face twisted with something almost... feral. she looked at you one last time, the fury in her eyes unmistakable, before she turned and gripped the shotgun like it was the only thing left keeping her together.
the cops were closing in, their sirens deafening now, and jennie knew the game was over. but that didn’t stop her from staring at you as if she was willing to burn everything to the ground to keep you by her side.
she raised the shotgun, her eyes filled with murderous intent, but she didn’t fire. not yet. -----
the air was thick with tension, the distant hum of helicopters and the blaring sirens creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. red lights from the police lasers flickered in the distance, casting an eerie glow on the snow. jennie stood there, unyielding, her body trembling with fury as she pointed the shotgun directly at you and mina.
"drop the weapon!" a voice boomed from a police megaphone, echoing through the cold night air. "now! or we will be forced to take action!"
the words fell on deaf ears. jennie didn’t budge. she was seething, her grip tight on the shotgun, and her eyes burned with a kind of desperation and rage that made your heart race.
“if i have to take you with me to keep them—then so be it!” jennie shouted, her voice full of venom and madness. she gestured toward you with the barrel of the gun, her eyes wild with a twisted possessiveness. then, without warning, she pointed it toward mina.
“no!” you shouted instinctively, your heart hammering in your chest. but before you could even react, jennie’s finger tightened on the trigger.
the sound of the shot echoed through the night air, deafening in its intensity. but it wasn’t mina who cried out in pain. it was you.
you threw yourself in front of mina, instinct overriding your fear. the blast of the shotgun was deafening, reverberating in your bones as the impact hit. the force of the shot struck you in the shoulder, sending you flying back. your knees buckled beneath you as the searing pain exploded through your body. your whole arm felt like it had been torn open, the heat of the injury spreading quickly.
you gasped for air, but all you could feel was the suffocating pressure in your arm. your vision blurred, and you collapsed into the snow, the cold wetness against your skin mingling with the warmth of the blood pouring from your wound. the snow around you was quickly stained, crimson soaking into the pristine white, each drop a mark of your struggle.
“no!” mina’s voice cracked, sharp with panic. she was beside you in an instant, her hands trembling as she pressed against your wound, but there was too much blood. her eyes were wide, her face pale, and you could hear the desperation in her voice. “don’t you dare! don’t you dare leave me!”
she was wailing now, a raw, guttural sound that echoed in your ears. tears poured down her face, and she shook you gently, her hands desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but it wasn’t enough. the blood soaked through her fingers, the warmth of it slowly leaving your body. she didn’t care. she didn’t care that she was covered in your blood. all she cared about was you, and that was slipping away.
she was frantic, panicked, and terrified. her face, usually so composed, was twisted with fear. "why did you do this?" she cried, her voice breaking. "why didn't you listen to me? why didn’t you stay back? please don’t leave me!"
your blood soaked into her hands, but she didn’t care. she didn’t care that her clothes were stained. all that mattered was you. you were still alive, still breathing, but she was losing you all over again. she collapsed onto you, pressing her cheek against your chest, as her sobs wracked her body.
meanwhile, jennie stood a few yards away, her fury barely contained. she had just fired that shot, and now you were on the ground, your blood staining the snow—and she couldn’t comprehend it. her face twisted with disbelief and rage as she saw you fall. her chest heaved with every breath, and her grip tightened on the shotgun, her knuckles white with tension.
but before she could move, a sudden flash of red appeared on her chest. the red dot of a laser, sharp and precise, gleaming in the cold, followed by more, dotting her chest, her arms, her legs. the snipers had zeroed in on her. they were tracking her every movement, the weapons aimed at her from all directions.
jennie froze, her eyes widening in realization as the laser sights pinned her down. she could hear the crackle of the police radio, the shouts from the officers closing in, but she didn’t care. she raised her shotgun, glaring at mina with pure, seething anger.
“you—” she gritted through clenched teeth, her voice shaking with fury. “you… will never take them from me. i will make them stay with me, one way or another.”
she aimed the shotgun directly at mina, but before she could fire, a shot rang out—loud and clear. jennie staggered back, her body jerking as she collapsed to the ground. the shotgun fell from her hand, her grip loosening, and she let out a strangled gasp.
her face twisted in agony, the pain from the bullet in her side overwhelming her, but her eyes were still burning with rage. she reached for the gun again, but the effort was futile.
as jennie lay on the cold ground, mina’s sobs grew louder. she was beside you, crying out your name, her voice trembling with fear. “no, no! please, don’t leave me…” she wailed, cradling your head against her lap. “please! i can’t lose you! i can’t…”
“help! someone, please—don’t let them die! don’t let them—”
she couldn’t finish the sentence. her voice broke as she sobbed uncontrollably, her hands still pressing to your shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. the blood kept pouring, the darkness creeping in, and mina couldn’t save you.
“please, don’t leave me,” mina begged, her voice raw and frantic, clinging to the last shred of hope. “i can’t lose you again… please…”
the sound of sirens and helicopters filled the air as the police closed in, but mina’s eyes never left you. the snipers had done their job, and now it was just the waiting—waiting for the paramedics to arrive, waiting for a miracle.
but mina wasn’t waiting anymore. she was crying, wailing, begging you to stay, to fight, to not leave her again. her heart shattered with each sob, and she held you tighter, as if trying to somehow hold you together, keep you from slipping away.
-----
the world around you spun in a blur. everything felt distant, too far away to touch. your body was numb, your skin cold, and your vision—fading. you could feel yourself being moved, dragged, the rough motion jolting your body, but the pain barely registered anymore. everything felt so heavy.
the only thing you could focus on was the stretcher beneath you, the soft whirring of the ambulance, the cold air biting at your skin as they rushed you away. the blood was still pouring from your shoulder, staining your clothes, and the coldness in your veins spread like a creeping tide, slowly drowning you.
voices echoed around you—sharp, urgent. the paramedics shouted orders to each other, their voices blending into the chaos. someone was yelling into a radio, demanding the hospital prepare for an emergency. amidst the noise, one voice stood out—jihyo.
“they’re losing too much blood! you have to move faster!” her voice was steady but desperate, each word edged with fear. she was running alongside the stretcher, her hand gripping your uninjured arm. her eyes were wide, panicked, darting between your face and the paramedics.
“stay with us, boss.” jihyo urged, her voice cracking as she tried to sound strong. “don’t close your eyes, do you hear me?”
her words were sharp, cutting through the fog in your mind. you wanted to respond, to reassure her, but the strength wasn’t there. your eyelids felt like lead, your body heavier with every second.
then, you saw her—mina. her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with a fear you’d never seen before. she stood at the ambulance’s open doors, trembling as she hesitated, unsure if she should climb in. jihyo turned to her, grabbing her shoulder and practically shoving her inside.
“go! stay with them!” jihyo barked, her own tears glistening in the harsh red and blue of the emergency lights. “don’t leave them alone.”
mina stumbled into the ambulance, her hands clutching the edge of the stretcher as the doors slammed shut. her breath was shaky, her entire body trembling as she crouched beside you.
“mina…” your voice was weak, barely a whisper. you forced the words out, needing to know. “are you… okay?”
mina’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she stared at you, frozen. then, as if something inside her shattered, she shook her head. “it’s you who’s hurt! it’s you!” she sobbed, her hands gripping the stretcher’s edge so tightly her knuckles turned white. “why… why did you do this? why do you always—” her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands for a moment before looking at you again. “you’re the one who got shot, not me! don’t ask me that!”
you tried to lift your hand, to reach for her, but your body wouldn’t obey. the effort was too much. instead, you rasped, “live for… sana... momo... hiro…”
“no,” mina choked out, shaking her head violently. her tears fell freely now, dripping onto the stretcher. “you don’t get to say that. you don’t get to give up. you need to live. for me. for hiro. please…”
your eyelids fluttered, the darkness creeping in, but you managed a faint smile, the corners of your lips barely lifting. “it’s… going to be okay…”
“no, it’s not!” mina cried, leaning closer, her hands now on your chest, as if she could keep your heart beating through sheer will. “it won’t be okay if you’re not here!”
the paramedics worked frantically, shouting updates to the driver. the ambulance lurched, the lights inside flickering as it hit a bump in the road. you barely noticed. your vision tunneled, the edges darkening.
“don’t leave me…” mina whispered, her voice breaking. she pressed her forehead to your shoulder, her sobs muffled as she clung to you. “don’t you dare…”
you blinked slowly, the tears in your eyes slipping down your cheeks. you could see her, hear her, but the world was slipping away, fading into nothing. her face, her voice, everything was becoming a distant echo.
and then, with one last breath, a single tear slid down your face.
the world went dark. ----- end of the series. a/n — thank you :)
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xanderscollection · 4 months ago
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"Growing up is realising a (random ship) you loved is actually weird and bad"
Yeah? Is it? Great, I love it even more. The worse it is the Better.
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asgardian--angels · 1 year ago
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I honestly just think it's funny that so many people have been watching ofmd as a 'comfort show' lmao like I'm over here specifically watching for the angst. I crave pain and suffering. As soon as High On A Rocky Ledge played in the pilot I was hooked because I knew I was in for intense emotional turmoil. Red Flags is now my favorite episode of the entire series. I honestly didn't expect Izzy to survive as long as he did. His fucked up relationship with Blackbeard has fed me so well.
Of course I adore the love story, and the fact that Ed and Stede's love is an absolute, an immutable fact, of the show's premise allows me to enjoy the angst all the more. But I feel like some people need to be reminded: David Jenkins never promised you fluff. He never promised no deaths, no tragedy, no violence, no difficult topics. Personally I think including a fair deal of all of those makes the hope, the love, and the comedy shine all the brighter and have more meaning. You don't have to agree, but you can't assign expectations to a show that never made such promises. There was never false advertising. David set out to tell the story of two troubled, complicated adults navigating love and a long-term relationship in an often harsh and unfair world, finding community and making meaningful gains in self-actualization along the way. Ultimately it is a 'feel good' story but it's a rocky and winding road meant to mirror the messiness of our real world. Maybe you need to step back and re-evaluate where canon ends and your headcanons begin, and what the 'goals' of the show actually are that may differ from what you're looking for in media, and not blame Jenkins et al. for 'betraying you' when they're just telling their story the way they set out to.
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mbat · 4 months ago
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yknow what im sick of the words good person and bad person its a very annoying way to categorize things actually
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asterdeer · 2 months ago
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i am not an impartial assessor by any means, i love a toxic best frenemies more than life itself so of course i'm a jon&daisy truther, but like. the thing that pissed me off so much about that "i never forgave her, she never asked me to, she knew she didn't have the right" is that. well, firstly, fuck off. secondly, why are we singling out daisy for her lack of asking forgiveness when SO MANY OTHER characters have been equally wretched to jon, excepting martin i guess if i have to, and have still been given the narrative seal of approval? is it because she's a cop? because basira never gets that level of authorial derision. basira gets the literal last word of the show. i haven't relistened to s4 because fuck s4 but i don't remember any apology scene with melanie, and it's not like melanie was meaningfully less influenced by the slaughter in terms of affect on jon's bodily safety, and yet she's still allowed to be all "well maybe we can still be friends even though i've done nothing for you and endangered your life multiple times :)" and by s3 neither basira nor melanie have any kind of rapport with jon, basira doesn't particularly care and melanie has never stopped resenting jon, but they're still allowed to stomp jon into the curb with their moral superiority and jon is expected to take it.
meanwhile, even in s3, there's a funny little chemistry between jon and daisy, not romantically but like - of course jon doesn't trust her, he's right not to, but when they go talk to sarah baldwin, they get a little banter! it's cute! jon laughs! he seems bizarrely comfortable around her and it's refreshing. and obvs their bond gets stronger after the coffin. daisy talks to jon, even occasionally tries to stick up for him. aside from martin, whose self-isolation is a big point of s4, daisy is like. the only one (iirc) who isn't constantly trying to emotionally grind jon into a fine powder until he admits that he's a monster and a worm and that he doesn't deserve to live except on everyone else's terms. daisy is the only one who humbles herself enough to empathize with him. "boo hoo i'm a monster" she gets to say that because she's the only other goddamn person who admits that she's monstrous too!! no one else ever takes this gentle a tone with jon and this time i'm including martin because fuck s5 martin and his mean "apology retracted" "making jon be grateful for not hitting him" ass!!!
so, thirdly, fuck off with the "she knew she didn't have the right." by that logic no one else has the right to be friends with jon either but they sure as hell aren't bothering to ask forgiveness. i just don't understand why the narrative sticks up for jon's traumatic experiences with his "allies" in this one single area and then goes back to throwing him to every other wolf in sight. daisy sacrificed herself in part to protect him. she was killing herself slowly in order to atone and then gave up her own atonement to keep the others safe. in my opinion no one else was aware of their own sins or did more to make up for them than daisy tonner and it makes me so angry that they had to kick her even lower after her death, souring her only other important relationship besides with basira to make some cruel, holier than thou point.
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wildfairies · 1 year ago
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getting called parasocial on bg3 reddit because slaughtering innocents and consequently upsetting characters i like makes me sad even though it’s jUsT a ViDeO gAmE
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katyspersonal · 6 months ago
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You don't get invested in people's fandomless OCs and original projects because you are only online for the "content for your current hyperfixation". I don't get invested in people's fandomless OCs and original projects because if they abandon me it will hurt like heck to uproot all memories and emotions developed towards these, like a stump of a chopped tree, however a creator of a huge show/videogame/etc doesn't have that power. 😎
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skunkes · 1 year ago
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Do u ever think abt where al (and talon too neow?) will go when u find ur person irl? Ykwim? like do u think we'd forget them / drop / git bored of our lil oc guys (of al's nature)? it feels sad!!! like a real loss 2 me. is it weird to be attached to them like they r real? HMM.
i hope ur doing well btw wit all da things ur goin thru. wishin u the best, peace and stability to u, bruther <3
dis is so scary i was just talking to a friend about something adjacent to this...
putting under read more solely because it feels weird to have some of the stuff im gonna mention just out in the open loll ^_^ ^_^
so! I kind of already experienced something like this last year, when i found myself um...in a situation like one you described...
I put al up on the shelf for a bit then picked him back up a few months later for much needed comfort among lots of confusion... I look at this Now as maybe being because, well. things started going south at that time and i needed Al again... + that makes sense! but i also have a friend who's in a long term relationship who still has thier own array of characters in their brain to lean on for comfort (though they aren't ocs)
I understand what you mean though... I'm attached to them like they're real. and neither outcome sounds good to me...!
like if the case is just that The Best Fit For Me, My Partner, really will make me forget about them, that makes me sad!!! Al has been in my life for such a long time. in those few short months of my situation where things were nice, I didn't have much to draw...! I don't know what I would draw if it wasn't my little comforts...! My yearning... It felt really weird even if i was happy for a little bit... it felt weird that he was just Gone.
BUT if the case is that i find a partner that's a good fit for me and i DONT forget about Al (and talon)...then that's also kinda sad...! Sad that I still need additional fantasy comfort that can never be real... because the little guys in my brain are like their own people... sad that there's nothing on earth close enough in the same way that everyone you date can have their own qualities you'll miss because theyre their own person, except they'll always just be in my brain and never in my arms etc etc... it is sad.... sometimes i just get emotional over having created em at all because all the outcomes are so sad to me......
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starpros-sunshine · 11 months ago
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I used to be funny you know? I used to have good humour and now every time I try to crack a joke I just feel awkward like I could've gotten that one delivered so much better. Smitten with the curse of not being able to be serious while also being horrible at being silly. If you ask me I'd rather be smitten with other curses but such is life I suppose.
#people say I'm funny but when have I ever made anyone genuinely laugh is the question you know?#it's horrible when most of your idols are comedians or well rather actors that got famour through comedy and fictional characters who are#just funny in their own way and it's one of the most desirable qualities in a person don't you know#a good sense of humour is very important it's just a shame I don't really have it#I wish I knew how to make people laugh I really do#I'd hate to be boring on top of all my pthwr personality deficits#the awkwardness I can live with the theatrics I can accept and the lame humour i don't like but what other choice remains#but boring no I don't want to be boring#nobody ever talks about me though and I don't like that#not even negatively#i hate that i really do#everyone just thinks I'm nice I'm just nice and nothing else I'm a footnote in a world full of interesting people I'm the nice one#that you don't have an opinion on except “nice''#thats why I'd be happy about anon hate to an extent because that means someone thought about me#i always think about how once I'm dead I'll just vanish and I don't want that#i want to leave /something/ in this world I don't want to live my life being an afterthought and then be forgotten in death#i don't even mind being lame but I just don't want to be nothing#my head hurts again I should stop thinking ugh this is what happens when you sit in silence for too long#oh i don't know I guess it really is just the fact that when you constantly look at the stars and want to reach their light it's hard#to deal with the way that you're stuck on the ground and will never even get close no matter how hard you try#but such is life I suppose there's no use in lamenting the spilled milk#delete later
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jackass-jones · 9 months ago
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Fucked up how happy I get whenever I make content of Shinjiro Aragaki being actually loved and getting to heal and learning to love the little things in life and getting to express himself. What’s up with that
#persona#shinjiro aragaki#hes the only one i really respect here#its like so annoying though that i even care like whats wrong with me why does this bother me so much#just cuz i see myself in this character and also feel like shit and idk when he doesnt even get to live doesnt get to recover#and this is treated as a good game with a profound theme and this is treated as good writing#its hard not to be hurt when its like. im barely hanging on man#and youre telling me he can be saved by someone noticing him and caring about him and he can get through it and be loved and try to heal#but this is treated as some sorta disservice to the narrative and that you cant have the theme work this way#its like. but this is the only way i can even feel anything about this theme this actually makes me wanna try#seeing the character going through mental issues like mine die just like. it makes things suck idk#and its like why do i even care like this shouldnt matter but idk its like#if he can make it then why cant i#and im just really attached to this and i really really want to make my fic of him exist cuz. nothing is going good for me rn#but if i can make this one thing thats important to me where someone gets to recover then maybe ill feel less helpless#its what im trying to tell myself so i can stop feeling like im. idk cringe or something cuz im emotionally attached to a fictional#character and the wellbeing of this character feels like motivation for me#i just wish i wasnt so damn desperate about it 😩#anyway can someone please slap me with a fish so i can stop being insecure about my writing and just fucking do it
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mikakuna · 1 year ago
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"jason stans never accept that he's a bad person and he's done horrible things to his family and literally killed people/messed with a girl's head"
i'm snoring so loud right now
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longagoitwastuesday · 2 years ago
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I keep thinking of that reply in my Odysseus/Agamemnon post about how I regard differently Odysseus' and Agamemnon's actions, while acknowledging that at times Agamemnon is written as a sweet man and Odysseus is always straight up shitty, and how it was taken as some sort of defense for Agamemnon and as a form of pointing out the double standard; and that wasn't at all what the post was about for me, even though I can see where they were coming from. To be honest, given I didn't imagine it would spread anywhere other than my own blog, I didn't explain myself very well (or at all).
The fact is that when I talked about Odysseus not caring about hurting someone else's child to start and end a war I was indeed comparing his actions to Agamemnon's, but my words about supporting Odysseus' wrongs and cheering him in his terrible actions, while in a joking tone, weren't entirely a joke. I do think that Odysseus does some very shitty acts, and some quite terrible ones depending on the sources. That's a fact, that he does is at the core of his characterisation and it's what makes him so much fun; but not even when he is at his most cruel does he harm his family, his own son. Agamemnon, while sweet and loving at times in some texts, at his worst is willing to sacrifice Iphigenia. When readers regard with more sympathy Odysseus over Agamemnon despite both being responsible for children dying, I don't think there's a double standard in this aspect at all considering it's never his own kid Odysseus harms. And that's the key, I think.
Odysseus and Agamemnon have very different priorities, a very different view on loyalty and duty. It could be said that Agamemnon acts out of selfishness, but it could also be read in a kinder light, saying that Agamemnon is ruled by the gods first, and by his role as head of the achaeans; Agamemnon is not entirely himself. In opposition we see Odysseus acting perhaps mainly for himself and his own family and men; yes, he is a king, but he has not the role Agamemnon has. As a consequence, Agamemnon submits his family's wellbeing to the war, to the gods, while Odysseus stops the plow before hurting Telemachus but is (depending on the source) the cause of Iphigenia's sacrifice and Astyanax's death.
Both Odysseus and Agamemnon have reasons to support their actions, and both can be sympathised with; it's fiction after all. When it comes to fiction, at the end of the day which character a reader is drawn to or sympathises with is mainly an issue of personal taste, but I suppose it also implies a certain level of one's own views or preferences on morals, what makes us find certain actions more justifiable, or tasteful (perhaps that's a more accurate word), than others. Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter, no matter how sympathetic or understandable the reason, generally sits worse on people than Odysseus doing the same with someone else's kids, because they're someone else's. This different emotional reaction they provoke has place not just metanarratively, but also inside the very story; it is narratively significant, given it determines how their arrival home plays out, how their wives react to them, and thus their futures. Ultimately it determines whether they live or die.
I think both terrible acts go in line wonderfully with each characterisation, showcasing the role they hold in their world, what they value, what they care for, what they're willing to sacrifice for themselves and the others, how much of their own they're willing to give and bend. While looking at the wider picture it could perhaps be drawn that Agamemnon is the better person out of the two, but Odysseus' selfish actions are perhaps easier to empathise with, especially from a modern viewpoint. Odysseus is treacherous and prone to betrayal, but not against his own; Agamemnon follows the rules of the gods. How fitting in that context that Odysseus doesn't die at the end of his story, that he cheats the death heroes so often are fated to, almost as if cheating the narrative itself, bending the rules of the world he is ascribed to; how fitting in the context of those texts that point towards Sisyphus being his father. But that's another topic, and I've already talked a lot.
#Don't get me wrong. Odysseus is super shitty and this is a 'pick your poison' kind of situation#But I don't really think there's a double standard when it comes to the kids situation given that Odysseus doesn't sacrifice his own kid#I really think that's what lies at the core of this. Does that make him shittier and more selfish and a worse person? Actually yeah perhaps#But we are no kings with thousands of people depending on our decision yet cringe at the idea of hurting people close to us#It feels like betrayal. And this is where the moral preference takes the role. Which do you prefer? The one that would betray their family#for the greater good or the one who'd sell the world for their family and themselves? It's interesting because#while in fiction the first option is often the most frown upon while selfish actions for the beloved are easy to sympathise with‚#in reality these are usually worse regarded. I didn't want to go there because I already wrote so much it didn't fit in the tags#but I actually think the same thing happens with Galahad/Lancelot. Heathcliff/Edgar I'd say has a somewhat similar situation going on#There are many many examples but mainly I was thinking of Galahad and Lancelot#So this is not an 'Odysseus did nothing wrong'. This is an 'Odysseus did many things very wrong but he didn't kill his son#so while both him and Agamemnon were the cause of death of kids‚ their action are not the same so there's no double standard regarding#the particular action of sacrificing Iphigenia. In fiction that kind of betrayal makes characters often unlikeable'#I guess that action 'stains' the view under which Agamemnon's actions are seen and so his character is often seen under a darker light#He is presented a bit as an antagonistic presence opposed to Achilles who is very popular so I guess that also influences this?#Anyway I've been elated by the musical causing Odysseus art and posts but I do have noticed that he is very goodified in it and that#it has influenced how he is being regarded around here (the way it happened with The Song of Achilles as well I suppose)#And I must say I like that less. He is shitty in a fun way but not in a light way. He is very shitty#Definitely not better than Agamemnon depending on the perspective you take. I can't believe I'm 'defending' Agamemnon#He is not my thing at all I'm all for selfish actions for oneself and the loved ones through manipulation‚#lies and scams and letting the world drown if needed. In fiction Lancelot's‚ Odysseus' and Heathcliff's actions are a lot more preferible#to me than Galahad's‚ Agamemnon's and Edgar's. But yeah#I ALSO didn't want to go there because again it would have take me forever and I would run out of tags (yet here I am)#but there's also a Priam/Hector/Paris comparison in how they act and how they're regarded to be drawn here#Agamemnon/Iphigenia‚ Priam/Hector/Paris‚ Odysseus/Telemachus. And that is not even including everything with Elektra/Clytemnestra/Orestes#or Oedipus and his own family for that matter#But yes. I'll better shut up already. I'm talking a lot more than I intended#I just found that discussion super enthralling and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I still can't#I talk too much#I should probably delete this later
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badscienceman · 1 year ago
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forever annoyed by the inability to have constructive conversations involving media criticism anymore. I feel bonkers because it's like everything immediately dissolves into reactionary, all-or-nothing arguments that leave me baffled and usually uncomfortable
#personal#thinking about the person who joined the book club I'm in then got mad at the queer and/or poc members#because we were reading a book by a poc author that involved queerphobia#and when this person reached the queerphobic part she just could not engage with it at all#which obviously it's fine#you don't have to read those things#but to accuse everyone reading of excusing queerphobia because we were trying to discuss the context of when and where the book was written#despite the fact we had for like weeks been having very nuanced discussions about this author and his work#honestly mostly calling him a misogynist and queerphobe lmao#despite the fact that a woman from the same area the author was from was there discussing her experiences etc#and then the other side of this is like#you're an sjw if you discuss the implications of how poc/disabled/etc characters are treated in fiction or whatever lmaooo#obviously people don't generally say “sjw” but it's basically what they mean let's be honest#thinking about the person who got mad that I had a rule not to send certain content in a discord server#because obviously that meant I was engaging in (insert shipping discourse)#obviously it meant I disapproved and was being an sjw type#but really it was just that someone helping to mod had trauma surrounding this one specific thing#so when the mad person decided to show me who's boss by sending that content anyway they were literally doing nothing to me#but they were hurting someone else#all or nothing you're not allowed to have boundaries because if you have boundaries it's actually commentary on your stance or whatever#so annoying
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dangerous-advantage · 2 years ago
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donatello makes noodle soup
[Word Count: 1 358]
There were some days when Donnie just. Didn't work.
He could have energy and motivation aplenty, could be bursting at the seams with inspiration.
He'd sit down to work, and everything he put to paper would be reduced to eraser smudges within the hour. Half-finished projects piling up in the corners of his lab, to be repurposed for scrap metal later.
It wasn't an inventive block or burn-out. It was his mind grasping for answers and coming up empty.
To his immense frustration, tonight was one of those nights.
Donnie found himself balanced precariously on a stool at the kitchen counter, knees pulled to his plastron. His forehead was laid upon them, eyes scrunched shut, arms limp at his sides.
Oh, ibuprofen, why do you forsake me?
The rain had started up again. While lovely in concept, the smell and the sound and the city lights reflecting off of city pavement, it kind of hurt.
Ow.
Donnie's three-day "pressure" headache had reached its final form, the mother of all migraines. He could thank his lucky stars he didn't get them as bad as Mikey used to, but the point felt moot.
He'd been useless this week, dragging himself around his lab, stealing scattered snatches of sleep here and there.
It didn't help that he wasn't used to their lair yet. Months after the Shredder and the Kraang attack, he didn't feel at home here.
It felt... different. The silence wasn't loud enough.
He didn't like the restlessness. The past few months had been a continual blur of momentum. Rebuilding the lair. Fixing and upgrading his tech. Taking care of Leo. The list was endless.
Yet, he couldn't make his brain work.
Donnie gave a little grumble and let his legs dangle, bending to press his forehead to the cool stone surface of the tile. He turned his face to the side, squinting out at the lit side of the train car.
He should turn off both overhead lights, but he didn't want to injure his shell in a fall. Which was probably just him being paranoid, but–
His eyes caught on the spine of a cookbook peeking out from a stack on the back corner of the stove-side counter. He frowned (or scowled, since he was already frowning). Where had he–?
Noodle soup.
Donnie sat up, blinking. That was... that was the cookbook. With the recipe for noodle soup. His noodle soup.
He hadn't made that in forever.
Donnie stood, influenced by the gravitational pull of memories. He stumbled over to the counter, freeing the book from its dusty prison. He brushed his hand over the cover. This had come to the new lair?
In their first move, when everything was new and raw, it hadn't occurred to him to go looking. Not with everything else on his mind.
He thumbed through the well-loved pages, instinctually flipping open to the recipe. He stared at it, that same diagram embedded in his brain. When had he forgotten?
I'm making this right now, aren't I?
Resigned to the whims of his heart, he set the cookbook down and went to fetch a stockpot.
He didn't need a recipe to make it. The motions were imprinted in memory. But having the cookbook open was part of the process. It would be wrong to make noodle soup without it's "supervision."
He gathered the ingredients first.
It was strange doing so in a new kitchen set up. He turned to the right, looking for a cabinet that wasn't there, and came face to face with the fridge.
He could have grabbed the ingredients he needed (sesame oil, soy sauce, sriracha, and the rest) but it wasn't right. Non-refrigerated items went first.
He turned and rifled through the cabinets. Ground ginger and garlic were easy to find, and the rice vinegar took only a minute of reorienting to find where Mikey stored it.
The rice noodles were more elusive. Mikey kept the noodles in a lower cabinet, but after a few minutes of searching, rice noodles were nowhere to be found.
Donnie considered giving up (no, he would not use another noodle variety, thank you very much) before he remembered glimpsing some in the top of the pantry a few weeks prior.
Searching through it, he was rewarded with a single package of flat rice noodles.
Donnie filled a medium-sized bowl with semi-warm water from the sink and folded the noodles in to soak. He placed a strainer next to them ahead of time, a habit he'd formed after one too many close calls. He'd check back in eight-ish minutes, then two.
in the meantime, he switched the heat to medium-high and set out to gather the rest of his ingredients.
Chicken broth, eggs, cilantro. He skipped the green onions, as he couldn't stand the way they'd stick in his mouth. Everything else was laid out methodically on the stove-side counter for easy reach.
"Instruments of measuring?" he mumbled beneath this breath. "Check."
He measured the oil directly into the stockpot, followed by ground ginger and garlic. He eyeballed the latter, but was exacting with the former. He let the mixture heat for a half-a-minute, withdrawing a cutting board and knife and placing them on the counter.
When he returned, he added the rest of the base: sriracha, broth, soy sauce, and rice vinegar. Unlike Raph and Mikey, he valued his taste buds, so he added less sriracha than the recipe demanded.
He turned the heat up, coaxing the broth to a boil. The recipe recommended he add the noodles at this stage, but after many years of perfecting it to his tastes, he'd learned the texture was better if he waited.
As it cooked, he chopped cilantro, breathing in the scent of home.
It reminded him of late nights in the kitchen, when he couldn't sleep or couldn't think or couldn't bear to be alone. The unhurried certainty, moving through motions instinctive to the point of monotony.
For some, the repetition would have dissuaded, driven them away. For Donnie, it was grounding, a long bath in a dark room with a good book. He could get lost, allow his mind to wander, the weight of responsibility slipping from his shoulders.
His head was feeling a little better. Maybe the ibuprofen was kicking in.
When the broth had retreated back to a comfortable simmer, Donnie strained the rice noodles and added them to the pan. He watched, a hint of a smile on his face.
For the next few minutes, he'd put ingredients away. When he returned, it'd be time to finish the dish.
Cooking was an act of care, Donnie reflected. It took time and resources. The art of making something for someone in any craft was an act of care. Making something for your enjoyment alone – it sounded selfish, phrased like that.
Donnie was used to giving himself away. His time, his energy, his motivation – he would give it all, for his family. But when was the last time he had taken back?
It felt like life had been going and going, and then it stopped, leaving him reeling. His wheels were spinning on a nonexistent road.
When was the last time he had stopped? Did he remember how to?
Did any of them?
Donnie had never felt like a child. He'd always been "so mature for his age." Now he wished that he hadn't.
His eyes blurred at the edges. He sniffed, blinking hard.
"Urgh, stupid steam," he announced, to a kitchen of nobody. And then he laughed a little, because who did he have to convince? The cookware?
I'm almost done, anyway.
Donnie retrieved the eggs. With exact precision, he cracked them into a measuring cup and poured them into the soup, one after the other. They floated on top, just starting to white.
He'd let them cook for another four minutes, then add cilantro.
He wondered if the soup would taste just how he remembered. Somehow, he didn't think it would.
He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It wasn't good or bad. It just was.
Donnie shut the cookbook and put it back where he'd found it.
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suprsingr · 2 years ago
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I have never in all my life had so many emotions about a tumblr poll but oh my GOD I'm so happy Garak won, lmao. That was so tense.
#remember in the early days when he was winning by a huge margin (as is proper)#and then the memesters and inexplicable union people and actual weird purist homophobes caught wind of it#and lost their gd minds#right up until the very end there were people like “BUT IT WOULD BE FUNNY” and ''BUT M*LES HAD THAT ONE UNION EPISODE''#dude garak is not something very many people on here feel comfortable joking about#for like a thousand reasons#I adore the m*les meme but that wasn't an appropriate place for one#and you want to support the strike? whole reason garak had ziyal the teenager thrown at him and was essentially replaced by m*les#(even when it made no narrative sense)#was because of evil producers and executives. you know. the people we're PICKETING AGAINST?#out here in the real world? not the fictional ferengi one?#and wtf was all that stuff about him being a working class hero? earning his money? he lives in a MONEYLESS UTOPIAN SOCIETY WHAT DO YOU MEA#HE COULD HAVE BEEN A CELLO PLAYER BUT HE JOINED STARFLEET CUZ HE WANTED TO FIGHT. HE WORKS FOR FUNSIES. HE'S A MILITARY MAN.#he's in starfleet even though it actively makes his family's lives worse. AND his own. i'm so confused what people meant by that.#m*les just likes to suffer okay it runs in his family#if you cared about the working class and unions you a) Would Support Garak and b) Would Have Voted Rom Into The Finals#do NOT act like this was about unions. one person said it was and the rest of you glommed on even tho it made no sense.#and had little to nothing to do w/ whether or not he's the best star trek character. it was just left field and weird and it hurt my brain#then there was the homophobia. the borderline racism. the weird morality arguments that idek how to respond to.#and that's coming from someone extremely self-righteous and annoying about it. garak's my guy#tldr i like m*les ok. ds9 convinced me of his worth. to be clear i do think he's a good character#but no one was voting for him for any reason but weird random shit?? or hateful shit??#and that was just exhausting. like i'm sorry but that hurt me#i'm just so glad it's over and justice prevailed#my goodness#where's my fainting couch#/rant
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