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#would be so interested in her part of this au
chilumi-shipper · 2 days
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Soulbound
Zhongli x GN!Reader (Soulmate!AU)
Summary: Zhongli hated the mark on his neck, and he hated whoever the mark bounded him to. But fate plays a cruel joke, matching him with you, as he swore he would love no one else but Guizhong.
Tags: Angst/No Comfort, Short Story, Rejection, Hurtful Words, Hatred to Love
Soulmark - A mark that binds two individuals as soulmates.
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Morax had always been frustrated by the mark on his neck.
A glowing, permanent part of his body that marks him tied to a soulmate. He thinks its stupid, for the love of his life was already in front of him, a gray-haired inventor that no carving in his body could ever stop him from adoring.
He finds it unbelievable that his neck is claimed by a soulmark yet Guizhong's remain blank, and he curses Celestia above for such a foul joke.
How could he be for anyone else but her?
When her dust settled in the field of glaze lilies he thought were incomparable to her beauty, he was utterly devasted, his clawed hands held onto his neck, wanting to rip the soulmark that had been taunting him for centuries.
How could he be marked for someone else while the love of his life laid lifeless?
He loathed his mark, everything about it, and he will till his last breath.
...
Zhongli deeply dislikes you.
You are a messy, silly, babbling buffoon.
An adventurer from Mondstadt that embodies the nation's will of freedom. Bubbly, carefree, and loud, much like a fellow god he didn't particularly like.
Despite of his disdain of you, your affection towards him never wavered. You filled his somber days with excitement as you joyfully tell him stories about your adventures, share some new recipes you've learned, even ushering him to talk about obscure Liyue historical facts that you've always found interesting.
He was much too proper to shoo you away, and his cold looks and short responses didn't discourage you to try to make friends with the man that peeked your curiosity.
Ever so slowly, you had pried open his caged heart, planting a small seed that was so distinctly you.
He would have accepted you, he would have seen you as a friend... and yet...
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a faint, familiar mark on your neck, revealed when you put your hair up into a ponytail.
Zhongli knew he truly disliked you.
...
"I don't believe in the marks either, Mr. Zhongli..." You reasoned with him, but his gaze still stung you with daggers.
He caged himself back up, ensuring that you could not care for the little seed you planted, no light would be able to reach it again.
His heart would not open...
No matter how many times he catches himself smiling at your antics.
No matter if he displays every gift and trinket you give him from your travels.
No matter how much he preferred your cooking over anyone else's.
No matter how beautiful you look staring up at him with your doe eyes as you confess your affection.
No matter how frustrated he felt at himself when he made you cry as he rejects your feelings.
Because, for him, how could there be anyone else but her?
...
"Do you see why it could never be you?"
You both stood in front of a monument, surrounded by various plants and objects you assume to be from friends of this ancient goddess.
"I bet she was amazing."
"She was perfect. Perhaps that's why I was not worthy to share a mark with her."
At this point, you were used to his words, how they praise her, how they degrade you.
"You're pretty great too, Zhongli..."
Faith places identical marks on the necks of two soulmates, and the rest is a romantic story of the passion that builds up as people pursue their marks of love.
Fate is cruel to you and him.
"That mark is not for you, Y/N." The Geo Archon says to you, tearing you apart silently, as you stand and take his words.
His heart quivers despite the harsh words coming from his own mouth. Even after millennia of having the mark engraved on his neck, after concluding that maybe he would allow your little seed to prosper even just for a bit, he still chooses to cling onto his hopeless past.
Tears fall down from your eyes, but you remain quiet, only nodding in agreement.
You loathed the mark on your neck.
...
Zhongli opens the cage of his heart a little, allowing him to peak at the small sprout from the seed you planted.
So distinctly you, it was the only thing he has of you.
After letting you leave him at Guizhong's monument with tears still staining your face, he couldn't help but miss you.
He couldn't help but let you finally take your place in his heart, after so long of hating his soulmark, hating whoever the mark tied him to, he fears he has finally accepted faith.
...
"Where is it?" He grips your arm harshly, his hold not faltering as you try to shake him off. His gaze was cold, yet you could still catch the hint of alarm in his eyes. "What have you done?"
After weeks... you return to him... missing something.
You winced at the stress of his words, feeling frightened under his tense hold. "I..." His bruising grip didn't falter, urging you to explain yourself. "S-Surprise...?"
"You..." Zhongli looks at you in disbelief. "How stupid could you be?"
"M-Mr. Zhongli... it's a blessing of the Anemo Archon... I prayed for him set us free from fate."
"Y/N... I..." He was at a loss for words, his heart ached as his eyes searched your neck in vain. "Fate... going against it is painful. It must've been excruciating."
"It was... but this if for you, Zhongli..." You smiled, feeling him loosen his grip. "Because I love... loved you." You fully free yourself from him, rubbing at where he previously held you.
The wind around him picked up, and he hears the faint whispers of an old friend along with it. Whispers of comfort, as he clearly ruined what would have been the light of the rest of his days.
Your soulmark fades, but his remains...
Zhongli loathed his mark, for it bears no meaning, no one but him bears that mark.
As you leave, trying to fade away in the background of his life, you remain under a spotlight in his eyes, for you will always be the one that shares his mark, no matter if it is visible.
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What y'all think of this one? :3
I bet y'all's feelings were hurt hehe
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jimxnslight · 2 days
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Fool's Gold || Part III
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Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.
Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader
Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses
A/N: it's finally here! Sorry for the wait, things have just been really busy lately... but I hope you enjoy!
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<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>
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Living with you has been an absolute nightmare.
Obviously Jungkook had known that dropping poison in his champagne and whiskey wouldn’t be the end of your little assassination attempt; he’d expected you to continue doing whatever was in your power to make good on your threat. He may have been a little cocky about it too, teasing you over the fact that he was standing before you unscathed, but the logical part of him still knew to keep his guard up constantly. 
What he hadn’t realised was how exhausting it would all be. 
You’d been here only four days and Jungkook had already had to evade poison in his toothpaste, a suspicious looking pin wedged into the insole of his shoe, and garlic juice in his cologne- the last one seeming far from a homicide attempt and closer to just pissing him off. 
Dealing with that alone was one thing, because it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. But on top of it all, Jungkook hadn’t slept properly in days. He’d found himself dozing off for a few minutes here and there while holed up in his office at night occasionally, but he had mostly just stuck to spending his nights working, especially on the Park issue. He couldn’t risk actually sleeping in his office considering he knew that you had the ability to bypass the lock. And besides, as much as he would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep, Jungkook still had to be ready for if Jimin decided to attack again, even if he’d been quiet so far.
One of those preparations involved speaking with your father, which was why you and Jungkook were seated in one of the guest houses at 8:00 AM in the morning while your father was sat casually on the creme-coloured settee across from the mahogany coffee table before you both. The guest house was situated near the gates of Jungkook’s estate, still within its borders, but far enough that it had its own entrance and ensured guests wouldn’t end up too close to his house, just how he liked it. 
The initial meeting with your father had been awkward, though Jungkook may have been the only one to catch onto it. Your father hadn’t embraced you or kissed your cheek or told you how much he missed you, instead he had sent a formal nod in your direction before giving Jungkook a firm handshake. After that your father had barely spared you a glance, addressing Jungkook as if he were the only one in the room. You didn’t seem very offended by this either, your gaze instead drifting around the space looking almost bored as the two men conversed casually for a few minutes. 
It was an interesting detail, one Jungkook tucked into the back of his sleep-deprived mind. 
“The differences between the North and South have surprised me a ton,” Mr. Lee commented, taking a sip from the teacup in his hand. His accent was rough, no doubt a product of his upbringing in the South, “you guys do things a lot more softly here in the North.”
It was a jab, Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough not to know that, especially knowing how rough things were in the South. That comment was enough for him to know that your father was the type of man that liked to put others down to make himself seem superior. It only amused Jungkook though, because as per the culture, your father already had a bit of an upper hand since he was older, and yet he still felt the need to talk down to him.
Distantly, he wondered if your father’s personality had something to do with why you decided to hide your true personality even from him. 
“Yes, I suppose so,” Jungkook decided to reply dryly, not bothering to bite back. If he had learned anything, it was how to choose his battles, and an ego trip was not worth it in his books. 
Instead his gaze drifted towards your seemingly aloof form. It was a bit unnerving to see you look so quiet and proper, almost like he was being shown a third side of you. Your facade was still definitely up though, no one could miss the slight widening of your eyes and faint pout of your lips to feign an innocent look, but this version of your act was definitely more placid. 
Jungkook’s gaze travelled back to your father as he smiled, a sudden urge to get you to react overtaking him, “it’s definitely been an adjustment for your daughter.”
At your mention, your wandering eyes were reeled back to meet the gazes of the two men before you once again, but, unlike during the dinner with Taehyung and Chaewon, that was the extent of your reaction to the obvious dig. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you continued to sit silently beside him, an innocent expression still painting your already heavily painted features. 
Despite the topic, Mr. Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook, “hope she hasn’t been too much trouble. She used to be quite the spitfire growing up, but thankfully I fixed her right up before she could bring that attitude into adulthood. Can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten her married if I hadn’t.”
The room became quiet as Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his place, your father’s words, which sounded so casual on his tongue, unable to settle comfortably within him. Jungkook wasn’t so naive as to believe that “fixed her up” alluded to gentle parenting and stern lectures. And if his guesses as to how your father might have disciplined you growing up were correct, then you had his sympathies. Jungkook’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with rainbows and butterflies, the son of a mafia leader’s childhood never is, but everything his father had done was for the betterment of the Jeons, not so Jungkook could be a good slave to a spouse. 
“No,” he finally decided to answer, “she hasn’t been any trouble at all.”
If your father’s comment had bothered you, you didn’t show it. But Jungkook was still eager to change the subject. 
Before he could, however, he was surprised when he felt you straighten up beside him and beat him to it. 
“How is Hannah doing, father?”
Despite all his research, Jungkook had no clue who Hannah was. He’d never even heard of the name before, which he found surprising considering how well he made sure to research the Lees before his marriage. Nevertheless it was clear to him that whoever this Hannah was, she was important. You’d asked the question with your usual soft voice, a casual hint in your tone, but Jungkook had known you long enough at this point to see past your act. He could see the way your gaze had turned calculating, taking in each and every expression that flitted across your father’s face as he took a sip from his teacup before he finally allowed himself to take you in. 
“She's doing fine,” he answered after a moment, voice void of any emotion, “very fine actually.”
Jungkook didn’t miss the subtle jump in your eyebrows at his words, so subtle that he doubted your father would notice it even though he was finally acknowledging your presence. 
“But you should start worrying more about this place, Y/N. This is your home now after all.”
Your gaze immediately dropped at his words as you gave him a timid nod, ditzy Y/N clearly back in full swing. Most would have witnessed this interaction and seen a loving daughter being rejected by her cold, heartless father. But looking past your act of innocence, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that there was more to this interaction than that. The relationship you had with your father was weird. If Jungkook hadn’t known either of you, he wouldn’t have guessed that you were more than mere acquaintances with how distant you both seemed. No love, no animosity, just… impassive.
And yet, despite this clearly uncommunicative relationship, you’d spoken up only once in this entire conversation to ask about a person named Hannah - or rather you had wanted confirmation about something regarding Hannah, and judging from the way your expression had returned to that naively bored look, you had gotten the confirmation you were seeking. Neither of you had offered to identify who Hannah was to Jungkook either, so he doubted asking would prove to be very useful. 
If only Jungkook had the mind to figure everything out on his own at this moment. He’d already had to stifle three yawns since the beginning of the conversation, all of which he was able to hide only because your father had initially seemed very interested in scanning the contents of the guest house. Hopefully he’d get better at hiding his exhaustion as the day progressed, he had a long day ahead of him after all. 
Your father caught Jungkook’s attention once again when he leaned forward to place his empty teacup on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. The teacup clinked against the wood before he leaned back into the settee, giving Jungkook a questioning look. 
“So, now that we’ve got the chit chat out of the way, why’d you need to see me so desperately?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook ignored the arrogant structuring of his words once again, gaze instead drifting to you, who was keenly scanning the front page of a newspaper that had been haphazardly placed on the coffee table to give the room a more homey feel. 
He wasn’t entirely sure whether you knew anything about Jimin’s attack on the West Docks. Yes, you had broken into his office once, but Jungkook didn’t leave important stuff like that just lying around so technically you didn’t have any way of knowing about it. Jungkook preferred if you didn’t, because obviously the less you knew the better. You were trying to kill him after all, and as much as he liked to make a joke out of it, he wasn’t dumb enough not to at least partially take it seriously. 
So Jungkook shifted in his seat to face you, the action catching your previously wandering attention, before he placed a hand on your knee. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hesitant, but thankfully you didn’t flinch at the contact. 
“Why don’t you go freshen up, princess? Your father and I have some business to discuss, and then after that you and I have somewhere to be.”
Jungkook watched your eyebrows twitch, though whether it was from the nickname or in question of where the two of you would be heading he didn’t know. But then your gaze flickered to your father’s direction for a moment before you quietly nodded. 
You stood from the settee, ignoring the way Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, brushed against your skin as it fell. When you faced your father, hands clutched before you, he was already looking up at you with a familiarly indifferent expression. 
“It was nice seeing you again, father,” you said formally, keeping your voice light and soft as you offered him a small bow. You were returned a formal nod, another familiar action, before you turned away from the two men and pushed through the double doors of the guest house. 
A deep sigh escaped your lips the moment you heard the door shut behind you, feeling as though someone had lifted an anvil off your chest. Your father’s presence had always felt suffocating, you were just glad that the two of you being in the same room has also always been a rare occurrence in itself. 
You didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the beauty of Jungkook’s estate now stood before you in all its glory. Lush green grass surrounding a stone walkway, colourful flowers popping out of strategically placed beds, and large, but maintained, Japanese Maple trees scattered here and there were all organised neatly to form a breathtaking courtyard. 
This was the one thing you could unconditionally appreciate about Jungkook’s estate. Most leaders’ estates screamed money with the various marble statues of themselves and their families littering their front yards and excessive landscaping drenching the flowers and grass in stone and metal. But Jungkook’s was filled with greenery, as if you were walking through an enormous garden. You loved it. 
While surveying the area your gaze dropped to the stone pathway before you, the one you and Jungkook had walked through to get to the guest house and also the one you were certain Jungkook was expecting you to take after being kicked out of said guest house. You stared at it for no more than three seconds, not even bothering to think it over, before you spun around in your spot and pressed your ear to the door you had just emerged from. 
There was something wrong. 
Although alliances were a very uncommon thing in the South, you were still smart enough to know that business deals between allies should be eased into slowly, not started four days after a marriage. This meeting was happening way too soon, which made you doubt it was business-related at all. 
Jungkook needed something from the Lees. The only question was what?
After leaning quietly against the door for a few minutes, you were only able to pick up a few words here and there between quick stifled yawns. It would’ve disappointed you if it wasn’t for the one name you managed to catch Jungkook say as clear day.
Park Jimin.
The leader of the Parks. The man whose close friend consisted of the ruthless Min Yoongi, leader of the Mins. Both mafias were located north of Taehyung and Jungkook’s territories. Personally, you’ve never heard of any ongoing disputes between the four, but if Jungkook was mentioning Park’s name in a meeting with your father, there had to be something going on. 
That would be perfect, because if you killed Jungkook while he was having a feud with Jimin, then Jungkook’s death would be more likely to be pinned on Jimin, allowing you to bear no consequences and be sent back to the Lees without a scratch. 
Except… it wasn’t perfect, because killing Jungkook had proven to be a lot harder than you had anticipated.
Killing your first husband had been child’s play. Even after you’d grabbed the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest, his men had taken one look at the scene and ruled you out before you had even had the chance to construct a detailed tale of an assassin that had come through the window and shot him dead. They had been complete idiots, entirely unable to see the doe-eyed girl with frilly pink dresses and a soft airy voice as anything more than that. 
But this case was an entirely different challenge. You’d realised on the very night of your wedding that the people around Jungkook, as well as Jungkook himself of course, were not as stupid. You knew that if you tried to pull the same stunt again, you’d be pinned for the murder eventually. It’s why you hadn't even bothered to search for some kind of weapon in Jungkook’s mansion, nor had you tried to steal the gun you knew stayed sat on Jungkook’s waistband at every moment of the day. If you used a weapon to kill Jungkook, you’d be caught. 
That’s why you had stuck to poisons as your main choice of weapon. The collection of toxins you had managed to smuggle into the mansion, all thanks to Persilla of course, was made to make kills look like nature’s fate. Yet, despite dropping toxins into anything that could possibly make contact with Jungkook’s mouth or skin for the past four days, your efforts were proving to be futile. Jungkook’s knack for catching onto small details was just a difficult barrier to overcome. 
You knew H hadn’t sent you that note to pressure you into speeding up Jungkook’s murder, and you hadn’t taken it in that way at first, but now that four days had passed you were beginning to think about changing your methods. It would be more complicated, but you needed to get this done quickly. 
A gun would be the best way to finish him off in your opinion; it was the one weapon you were a master of and getting a hold of one shouldn’t be too difficult with all the guards milling around the estate. Then all you’d need to do was get Jungkook alone, shoot him dead, and then plant some evidence that pointed towards the Parks. You’d need to be careful, but it was doable a-
“Now look what I’ve found.”
You snapped away from the door and whirled around, startled entirely as a male voice suddenly spoke up from behind you. You were met with the view of a man, one you’ve never seen before, standing a couple metres away from your form, his hair as light brown as his eyes. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, while the buttons of his white polo shirt were open to reveal a sliver of his neck. 
“I seem to have caught a nosy little mouse.”
You wanted to ask him who he was and what he was doing here. Anyone within the gates of Jungkook’s estate had to be close to him, you’d learned that much during your stay here. Yet, Jungkook had failed to mention this man at all. 
But before you could voice your questions, the man stepped forward, brown dress shoes tapping against the stone beneath you both, and held out a hand, “I’m Daehyun, Jungkook’s cousin. We haven’t formally been introduced.”
Tentatively, because you still had an act to uphold, you reached out to shake his hand, making sure to keep your grip weak, “I’m Y/N.”
Then you remembered that eavesdropping on a conversation between Jungkook and your dad may not seem like the most innocent thing to Daehyun. So you quickly mustered up a believable excuse. 
“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to their conversation! I just…”
You paused, pretending to shy away from him to give the illusion that you were embarrassed to admit the blatant lie that was about to escape your lips.
“I just wanted to know if Jungkook would talk about me,” you said, keeping your gaze on the ground as you started fidgeting with your fingers, “he’s not the most talkative man with me, so I just wanted to see if he would admit anything to my father.”
“Mhmm,” Daehyun replied, and you couldn’t help but feel that the tone of his voice gave the impression that he wasn’t paying attention. Finding that strange, you lifted your gaze from the ground hesitantly and observed him. The sight made you grimace inwardly. 
Daehyun’s lack of interest could be explained by the fact that he was too busy raking his eyes across your body, taking in your bare legs and neck, almost as if he were entranced. You noticed his fingers twitch as he took in the frills of your pink dress and the silk bow holding up half your hair. 
“God, you don’t look a day over 19,” he commented, as if you weren’t even there and he was simply talking to himself, “how old are you, darling?”
This was far from the first time a guy had looked at you as though you were a piece of meat. In fact, your act seemed to garner a lot more attention from the male species than it should. You liked to think that all the years of this had made you immune to moments like these, but deep down you knew it still made your skin crawl.
That being said, the implications of Daehyun’s words were beginning to register in your mind. This was Jungkook’s cousin, his family. It was customary for all male members of mafia families to have a gun with them at all times, which meant that there was a very high probability that, if Daehyun were to turn around, you would catch sight of a shiny black gun wedged into his waistband. He didn’t seem like the intelligent type to you either, which meant this would be a better opportunity to steal a gun compared to snagging one from a constantly alert guard. 
All you needed to do was get him a little closer to you. 
“Twenty-three,” you finally answered, keeping your voice soft and innocent-sounding. You took the opportunity to take a timid step forward, one that seemed to go unnoticed by Daehyun.
Instead he nodded, as if in approval of your answer, “Jungkook really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t he… I expect you’ll age beautifully. Lucky bastard.”
You pushed down the urge to throw up in your mouth. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you had it in you to lead him on in order to steal the gun. He was just way too slimy, saying things that were way too gross. 
But turns out, you didn’t really need to say anything as Daehyun took another step towards you, leaving only a hand’s length between yourself and him. You automatically felt yourself tense. If it were up to you, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine. But you were ditzy Y/N at the moment, and ditzy Y/N couldn’t fight back. 
Instead you tried to focus on the gun. He was close enough that you could snake your arm behind him without him noticing, but he still needed to get a little closer for you to grab it. 
“Relax, darling,” Daehyun soothed, and to both your distaste and relief he placed a hand on your shoulder, closing the distance you needed. Your hand crept forward slowly, stopping at his waistband, “you don’t need to be so tense-”
“Daehyun.”
Crap.
Your empty hand shot back to your side as your gaze snapped to the source of the voice, Daehyun’s following suit less quickly. Jungkook was shutting the door of the guest house behind him, dark eyes fixed on the hand on your shoulder. His voice had been low, the threat in them evident. Yet, Daehyun smiled, instead taking his time in removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. 
“Jungkook,” he nodded, his hands returning to his pockets, “your wife and I were just having a small chat.”
You searched the space behind Jungkook, finding no sign of your father. The guest house had two exits, one that led into Jungkook’s estate and another that led outside of it. Your father must have gone through the latter. 
Jungkook gained your attention once again when he took a few steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Daehyun, “you can talk without touching.”
Daehyun raised his hands in mock surrender as Jungkook paused in front of you, scanning you from head to toe for a second, before he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away from him, barely sparing him another glance as he started on the stone pathway you knew led to his mansion. There was this one patch of the pathway that you noticed hid the two of you from the attentive eyes of the guards. You took that opportunity to drop your act of innocence. 
“Cousin of yours?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. 
“Unfortunately.”
Your brows furrowed as you watched Jungkook spit out the word through gritted teeth, keeping his face forward. He was angry. He didn’t like Daehyun, you realised. Yet he seemed to have free access to his house? That didn’t make any sense.
You watched the patch eventually give way to a large circular driveway that laid before the front doors of Jungkook’s mansion. There was a sleek black car already parked on the grey concrete, obscured slightly by the fountain in the circle’s centre. It probably had something to do with what Jungkook was talking about earlier, about how there was somewhere the two of you would be going. 
With your innocent facade back up, because you noticed guards milling around this part of the estate, you turned to Jungkook with a curious look, “where are we going?”
He paused for a moment as his gaze dropped on you, and you immediately knew he was choosing his next words carefully, making sure to pick the ones that only allowed you to know as much as he wanted you to. 
“We’re going to meet some families,” he finally answered, but you’d already become distracted as you noticed a guard walk up to the window of the black car and begin speaking with the driver, the exposed gun at his hip suddenly looking very attractive to you especially after your failed attempt at snatching Daehyun’s. 
“And why is that?” You asked him absentmindedly, wondering if there was any way you could grab the weapon. You’d only need to brush past the guard for a moment to grab and shove it into the holster at your thigh. You knew the frills of your dress would do an amazing job at hiding its outline as well, even from eyes like Jungkook’s.
“There was an accident at the West Docks and a few workers died. We’re going to meet with the families and pay our respects.”
Your attention snapped back to Jungkook, the reminder to keep your expression light coming just a millisecond too late. It was a practically microscopic reaction, but it was enough for Jungkook to pick up on, making him tilt his head in question.
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked without much thought, because you honestly didn’t have anything smarter to say. Why was a mafia leader paying respects to people who weren't part of the family?
You weren't an idiot; it was no coincidence that Jungkook mentioned an incident taking place at the docks around the same time he had a meeting with your father in which he was mentioning Park Jimin’s name. You’d pieced together that said “incident” was more likely some kind of attack, and the one responsible for said attack was probably Park Jimin. If Jimin had attacked Jungkook’s docks, then that meant he was testing how strong the Jeons were at the moment, which further meant that he was interested in taking over the territory. Obviously Jungkook would have wanted to ensure that he had your father’s support if things were to escalate. 
People would have died in the attack at the West Docks, that’s how it always worked. Hell, people died at the borders all the time in the South since there was so much animosity between the territories there. 
But that’s just how things worked, or at least that’s what you’d heard mafia leaders parrot to each other growing up. “They knew what they were signing up for.” “They’re doing it for the sake of the mafia.” It was the kind of thinking that you loathed, and that exact thinking that you hoped to dismantle bit by bit until everyone, not just you, could see the flaws behind it. 
Yet… here Jungkook was, saying he wanted to value those lives lost by paying respects to their mourning families…
It was unbelievable. 
However, before either of you could speak, the door of the parked car opened to reveal a man wearing a standard suit. He stepped out onto the concrete, only to turn around in his place and open the door to the backseat. He continued to stay like that, patiently waiting for the two of you. 
Jungkook was the first to move, walking around the car to open the door himself and disappear behind the sleek black metal, while you eventually followed behind him, giving the man a soft thank you before sinking into the backseat beside your husband. In a matter of seconds, the doors were shut and you felt the car begin to move beneath you. 
There was an unfamiliar silence as you peered through the tinted windows, watching as the car passed through the front gates before submerging into a thick forest. The four days you’ve been at Jungkook’s mansion had been full of constant bickering, that was until someone else would enter the room. Then suddenly you were clasping your hands in front of you and bowing with a soft smile, all while Jungkook hid his cocky grins. 
“What? No snappy comebacks today?” Jungkook spoke, probably feeling the uncharacteristic silence as well. Despite noticing that there was a divider between the driver and you both, meaning there was no reason for you to keep your act up, you didn’t answer. 
You didn’t know why his earlier words weren’t sitting well with you. Just because Jungkook dropped a few condolences here and there didn’t make him a good person. He was the leader of a mafia after all, and you’d met enough of them to know the kind of people they were: cruel, merciless, and lacking in respect for the ones outside their families. Even the level of care they had for their families was questionable. 
But still… this was throwing you off.
You turned around in your seat as a sudden thought came to mind, causing Jungkook’s gaze to shift from the window to your form. 
“What do you mean by paying respect?” You asked. Perhaps the phrase meant something different in the North. Perhaps instead of meeting the families and expressing empathy for their loss, he was going to lecture them on the need for martyrs and how the families owed the Jeons for letting them live in their territories. Yes, that made a lot more sense to you. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, was looking at you as if you’d gone insane. 
“I won’t even begin to answer that question,” he scoffed. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, probably the fact that you would also be the one paying respects and not knowing what that was might be a hindrance to his perfect image, and spoke with an annoyed sigh, “we will be meeting with the families, relaying a few comforting words. Let them know that we will be supporting them from now on so they can focus solely on overcoming their grief rather than on how they’ll make ends meet moving forward.”
You turned back to your window with a frustrated breath, his answer doing nothing to dissipate your confusion. You might have also faced away from him to hide a stifled yawn. Car rides tended to make you sleepy, and in combination with the fact that you haven’t slept properly throughout your stay at the Jeon Mansion, it was taking a lot of willpower to keep your mind alert at the moment. 
“Considering that this will be our first official public appearance, I should also repeat how crucial it will be for you to act like a good wife.”
You rolled your eyes as a huff escaped your lips, “Yeah, I get it.”
“If you getting it means you’ll act better than the way you acted in front of your father, then good,” he commented, which made you turn to him once again with a brow raised. 
“What is that supposed to mean? I was fine in front of my father.”
Jungkook shrugged, “you could have been better.”
“How?”
He thought for a moment, mulling it over before he responded with an amused look, “when you were leaving the room, you stood up and just let my hand fall away to the side. Some would take that as a sign that you’re mad at me.”
“I am not going to kiss the ground you walk on just so that a few jobless people will keep their mouths shut,” you shot back. If you were having any qualms about killing him earlier they were entirely gone now. You were going to enjoy each and every moment of gutting the man at your side, not even the slightest hint of guilt.
“Not to mention how quiet you were,” he continued, but this time you could feel the weight of his gaze deepen, “you do know that we’ll have to actually speak to the families, right?”
There was a silent curiosity in his eyes that he didn’t voice, but you knew it was there, though for what exactly it was for you didn’t know. Was he questioning why you were so quiet? If that were the case, you didn’t have an answer; you hadn’t even realised you’d been so quiet during the meeting. Or was he curious about Hannah? You doubted it. With all the research he had done on the Lees and your territory, you guessed he already knew who she was. 
“Relax, Jungkook,” you waved him off, “I’ve been acting as someone else for years. You’ll get your nice and loving wife.”
With that settled you turned back to the window, stifling another yawn with your hand. 
-
-
-
The first thing you notice when you wake up is the fact that you were actually waking up, meaning that at some point during the ride you had fallen asleep. The second thing you noticed as you were waking up was that whatever thing you were leaning on did not feel like the inner side of a car door. That second realisation had you sitting up in your seat instantly, eyes shooting open to understand the situation. 
Outside you could see that there were no longer thick-trunked trees surrounding the road in which you drove on, instead replaced by groups of houses and small apartment buildings. You watched as kids playing in the roughened streets stopped to stare at the sleek black car, their parents no different as they tried to see through the tinted windows with unfiltered curiosity. 
You turned away from the window to take in Jungkook, whose shoulder you realised you’d made your pillow while you’d fallen asleep, only to have your eyes widen. 
To your surprise, Jungkook had fallen asleep as well, with his head resting back against the headrest and lips just slightly parted. Small puffs of breath rhythmically escaped from between them when he exhaled, a telltale sign that he truly was asleep and not just resting his eyes or something. 
The image had you frozen for a moment. He looked so… peaceful. Not that he always looked stressed out. Despite having a killer for a wife, Jungkook seemed to be pretty relaxed most of the time, amused even. But this was a different kind of peace, one that came with a complete lack of thoughts, making him look almost innocent - not the hard leader that you knew him to be. 
Without his gaze on yours preventing it, you also noticed things that you’d never really noticed about him before. Like the length of his eyelashes, or the strong dip of his jawline. His lips had a red undertone and rounded into a slight pout, while his skin was flawless - not a very common characteristic amongst leaders, though not many were as young as Jungkook - aside from the end of a faded scar peeking from behind the collar of his black shirt. The side of his hair that was facing you was slightly ruffled, as if his head had been leaning against something before it had moved to lean against the seat behind him. 
God this man was fine. 
You forced your gaze forward, realising that you were staring. Were you really so deprived that you were finding the man that you were supposed to kill hot? Well, in your defence, you had eyes. Also in your defence, the leaders in the South were all old and slimy dudes that should have been put down years ago. Just looking at Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air after drowning.
But then you paused, realising the weight of the situation. Jungkook was asleep, the same Jungkook who you knew had a gun wedged into his waistband at this very moment. It was risky, he’d definitely notice it missing when he woke up considering his attention to detail, but if you were to grab the gun, and then immediately get out of the car, he’d have no choice but to let you hold onto it until the two of you were out of the public’s eye. It would be more than enough time to secretly kill him and then plant evidence incriminating Jimin. 
Judging from the houses outside, you deemed that you both were close enough to the destination that you could hop out of the car immediately after it stopped. So you turned around, making sure to keep your movements as slow as possible, before you snaked an arm around his torso. You could feel the soft inside of his black blazer as your hand slipped beneath it, fingers just barely ghosting over his equally black dress shirt. It was unlucky that his gun was on the side of his waist facing away from you, but thankfully after checking to make sure he was still asleep, which he was, your fingers wrapped around the metal handle. 
Or at least you thought he had been asleep, because as you pulled the gun from its confines, a hand suddenly engulfing yours made you flinch. 
Your gaze snapped up to him, surprised when you found him wide awake and staring back at you. In all honesty, it wasn’t the fact that you were caught that had you frozen like a deer in headlights, Jungkook was well aware of your intentions, but rather the position that you were in. You’d used your left hand to grab his gun, which left your entire front to be pressed against his chest, while your right hand was resting on his other side, practically caging him against the seat of the car. Barely a breath’s distance separated your face with his, making the intensity of his stare all the more intimidating. 
You tried to pull away from him, but his hand brushed higher to wrap around your wrist and keep you in place, dark brown eyes still boring into yours.
“Put it back.”
It shouldn’t have, but the deepness of his voice sent a tiny shiver down your spine, one that you did everything in your power to make sure Jungkook couldn’t notice. You’d rather be caught dead than having Jungkook think you were into him in any way whatsoever. 
A small part of you, the same one that had persuaded you to drop a good amount of garlic into his cologne just yesterday, also reasoned that you’d never be caught dead taking orders from him as well. Logically speaking, there was no way you could save this attempt at taking his gun, he’d caught you and that was that. And yet, despite that, you didn’t move, hand still clutching the gun which was now hovering over his waistband. 
You felt Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around the soft skin of your wrist, the lack of your movement not going unnoticed by him. 
“Put it back, Y/N.”
It only made you want to do the opposite, just to piss him off a bit more, but you knew you were only delaying the inevitable. So, with the tiny devil at your shoulder retreating back to wherever it had come from and with a frustrated breath escaping your lips, you slowly pushed the gun back into his waistband. The action was slow, still dragging it out for as long as possible, until you felt the trigger guard push against the edge of the cloth. Yet, even when you let the handle drop from your grasp, Jungkook’s hand didn’t drop from your wrist. Instead, the edges of his lips twitched upwards.
“So we’ve moved on from poisons now?” He asked instead, voice low as his satisfied gaze stayed fixed on yours, “is my whiskey finally free from your terror?”
Your reply was quick, though your voice was just as low and breathy as his, “I wouldn’t start trusting it just yet.”
You really meant that, considering the new bottles of whiskey Jungkook had ordered had already been spiked not even an hour after they’d been placed in his cabinet. You knew that he knew, making the action pointless, but you were weak in front of that little devil at your shoulder. 
The abrupt sound of the car’s door opening made you jerk back into your seat, ripping your empty hand from Jungkook’s, as you quickly fixed the ruffles in your dress. By the time the driver’s face appeared at the doorway, you were offering him an innocent smile, making sure to keep your eyes bright and lips stuck in a perpetually delighted turn. An amused breath escaped Jungkook as he turned to open his own door. You hadn’t even realised that the car had come to a stop. 
You accepted the driver’s hand as he extended it towards you, the short heel of your white shoes tapping against the grey concrete while you stepped out of the car, grateful suddenly for the fresh air. 
You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting when Jungkook had said that you were going to meet with families. Mostly you had pictured a stage, one that he would stand and speak on, and then a crowd of families standing before it paying close attention to his every word. But there was no such stage in sight, in fact, as you looked around the area you noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary; just a simple neighbourhood with kids playing in the cracked street and parents standing in their worn front porches. Everyone was staring though, curious eyes staying fixed on Jungkook, and then on you. 
It was a bit daunting if you were being entirely honest with yourself. Yes, you were the daughter of a mafia leader, but you’d never actually been made to make public appearances like this, much less speak at them. Daughters of leaders were more like decoration pieces, hidden away until they were married off. 
Jungkook rounded the car until he was standing at your side, an arm wrapping snuggly around your waist. The action had been hesitant, as if he expected you to push him away or flinch at the touch, but you were beyond trying to fight whatever image of perfection Jungkook was trying to sell; there were bigger issues you needed to worry about now. And maybe a tiny part of you found comfort in it as you noticed all the eyes that were on you now. It was your first public appearance in the Jeon Territory after all, everyone would be curious about the Jeon Jungkook’s new wife. You needed to appear shy for the sake of your act, but you were still able to notice the mixed reactions, some confused, some sceptical, but most were just surprised. 
Jungkook also seemed to be scanning the crowd before he turned towards you, whispering the words in your ear, “let’s get going.”
You didn’t have time to notice the fuss that action had caused in a group of girls before you both began following a guard into a house on your right. He guided you through the doorway, the door already wide open, as you made your way towards what seemed like a living room. The space had a homey vibe, pictures of the family scattered across the walls and lit candles placed on the tables, but it was clear that whoever lived here was struggling: the paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden floor was littered with scuffs and dents, and the furniture looked a day away from crumbling. It pained your heart to see the kitchen barren. 
It was only when you and Jungkook managed to squeeze into the small living room that you finally noticed signs of life. There was an old woman sitting on the only sofa in the room, her expression dejected while her form was hunched forward in a way that you knew was a result of grief and not old age. At the sound of your footsteps her head raised, taking in the two of you with pained eyes. 
You had to mask your surprise when you watched Jungkook lower himself onto a knee before her, “hello Mrs. Hwang.”
The woman, Mrs. Hwang, ignored the greeting, instead shaking her head while keeping her gaze on the hands resting in her lap, “I don’t understand. They keep telling me he’s gone, but I just don’t understand… How could he be gone? How could my beautiful son be gone? What happened to him?”
“Mrs. Hwang,” Jungkook said slowly, his brows pulling together in sympathy, “your son and a few other workers were killed in a construction accident at the West Docks. I’m sorry.”
The tears that had been swimming in her eyes finally began to stream down her cheeks, the news coming from the leader of the Jeons finally confirming what she had seemingly been denying for a while, but you could only try to fan the flames of the anger that ignited in your chest. There was no construction accident, there had been an attack orchestrated by Jimin, and normal people who had nothing to do with the territorial feud had suffered the consequences. This poor woman, for example, had lost her son. She deserved to know the real reason he was gone, deserved to belt out her anger at the actual people responsible, not be fed a cover-up story you knew was only being promoted in order to prevent public unrest.
You watched as Jungkook tried to reassure her, his words artfully compassionate and reassuring, wondering just how much of those words he actually meant. He probably didn’t mean many of them, if any at all. Perhaps this was the method in which he maintained his power? Leaders in the South usually asserted their power by ensuring the public feared them, scaring them so much that even the thought of betrayal had them shaking in fear. But Jungkook was a smart man. Perhaps he realised that being loved by the public was a better method of manipulation, one that produced more loyalty. 
You’d been so deep in thought that when you felt the tap of Jungkook’s black dress shoe on your white ones you almost flinched. He was looking up at you with a pointed look, and it was then that you realised that the woman was staring at you as well, as if she were waiting for you to speak. Jungkook’s words, genuine or not, seemed to have stopped the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks while you’d been distracted because there was almost nothing left of them except the water staining her cheeks. 
Sensing your confusion, Jungkook gave Mrs. Hwang a strained smile, “you must excuse her, she’s still getting used to the North. It can be overwhelming at times.”
Mrs. Hwang nodded in understanding before she turned to face you once again. 
“That’s okay dear. I was just wondering how married life has been treating you. My husband passed away so long ago yet I still find myself missing the companionship even now.”
Oh… 
That was not the kind of question you hesitate at if you want people to get a good impression of your and Jungkook’s relationship, and the look on Jungkook’s face at the moment only confirmed those thoughts. 
“It’s been treating me well,” you answered finally, hesitating on what the right thing to say would be in this situation, “he’s been very good to me.”
It was the wrong thing to say, you realised that at the exact moment Jungkook grimaced and tears started to stream down Mrs. Hwang’s face once again. She nodded in your direction, “my husband treated me well too. How I miss him… And now my son is gone as well, who do I have left?”
Your voice died in your throat, mind unable to come up with anything that could possibly comfort the bawling woman who had lost so much. All you could do was stand dumbly and watch her crumble before you, wishing you could crawl into a hole and stay there forever hidden. 
Jungkook, on the other hand, immediately placed a hand on her knee and began to reassure her once again, comforting words falling from his lips like a gentle stream. He reminded her of how her son and husband were in a better place now, of the friends she still has in the neighbourhood, and then of her granddaughter who needed her to be strong. 
At the mention of her granddaughter, the door of the living room suddenly smacked open, revealing a little girl skipping into the room. She was wearing a sparkly pink shirt and washed out jeans which were fraying at the edges, while a worn doll hung from her fingers. Despite this, there was a bright smile on her face as she walked deeper into the room. 
The sight of Jungkook slowed her down in her tracks, replacing the once innocent smile with a deep blush painting her cheeks. Her gaze shifted away from him, clearly shy from her sudden crush. But then she caught sight of her grandmother and her gaze became worried. She made her way to her side quickly before gently placing the doll on her grandmother’s lap, also placing a comforting hand on her arm.
“Don’t cry grandma,” she said with a frown, using her other hand to push a few strands of her grandmother’s hair behind her ear. The girl turned in Jungkook’s direction, though the blush was back and her eyes wouldn’t meet his, “I keep telling her not to be sad, but she keeps crying.”
It was then when she caught sight of someone else in the room, making her turn to face in your direction. Her reaction was immediate, eyes lighting up in excitement as she took in your dress, then your shoes, and then your makeup. The girl quickly jumped from the side of the sofa and skipped over to you, eyes wide in childlike amazement. 
“Your dress!” She squealed, continuing to skip in a circle around you as she scanned you from top to bottom, “it’s so pretty! I’m going to ask Daddy to get me one just like it when he comes back!”
The last sentence felt like a hammer to your chest, and you could see Jungkook’s expression also sadden from behind her. How long would it take this little girl to realise that her father would not be coming back? That his life had been taken from him only because of the cruel way in which this world was structured?
Before you could think much of it, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, knees touching the cold wood as you became eye to eye with the excited girl before you. It gave her the opportunity to marvel at your hair and the light sparkles on your eyelids, her small hand brushing against the frills of your dress softly as her excitement only heightened. 
“You look just like a princess!” She continued. But then a thought seemed to strike her, suddenly making her shy, “do you think I could grow up to be a princess like you one day?”
You smiled at her, using every bit of your self control not to cry for this little girl and her innocence, “I think you’ll grow up to be an even prettier princess one day.”
Her smile brightened again, her confidence restored in that quick way only a child’s confidence could. You wanted that confidence to stick though, knowing just how quickly the cruelty of this world could destroy it . 
“But do you want me to tell you a little secret?” You asked, to which she nodded hastily, also desperate in that way only children were. 
“You don’t need pink dresses and sparkles to be a princess.” You gently took hold of her hand, giving her tiny fingers a comforting squeeze. This new information seemed to shock her, her eyes widening as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, “what matters is your heart. Your grandmother lost someone very dear to her, and she’ll need someone to help her get through her sadness.”
The girl straightened up immediately, chin rising as if to meet the challenge head on, “don’t worry, Daddy always makes me in charge of helping grandma. I’ll always take care of her.”
“That’s very responsible of you,” you praised.
“I am! I’m very-” She struggled with the words for a moment until she finally seemed to manage the beast, “responsible!”
An amused breath escaped your lips at her childish confidence, despite the sorrow tugging at your heartstrings. 
“And when you realise what you’ve lost,” you continued, this time speaking to the girl she will become when the devastating news finally hits her, “your grandma will be there to get you through it as well. You won’t be alone, okay?”
She nodded innocently, the weight of your words flying over her head. But that was okay, she’d realise their meaning when the time came. You could only hope that they would provide at least some comfort when it really mattered. 
Without another thought, you reached behind your head to unravel the silky pink ribbon in your hair, making sure to smooth it out before you held it out to her. She squealed in delight, grabbing the ribbon and softly running a hand over the silk material. 
But then she suddenly looked up from it and threw her arms around your neck, the spontaneity of the action causing you to flinch. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She continued to squeal, “I think you’re the best princess in the world!”
With her chin laying on your shoulder, your gaze automatically met Jungkook’s as your hands hesitantly raised to rest on her back. He was still kneeling in front of Mrs. Hwang, but his hand had dropped from her knee to his own, realising that it was unneeded as a fond smile was overtaking her expression at the sight of her happy granddaughter. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he watched the girl jump excitedly in your embrace. 
The two of you only stayed a few minutes longer, only because the girl had insisted that you tie the ribbon in her hair, before Jungkook stood and cleared his throat, a clear sign that you both should get going. You hadn’t even realised how heavy the atmosphere had been in the house until you were walking through the doorway, finally able to take in a full breath of fresh air. A guard was already standing before the front door, turning around to lead you both to the next house when he noticed your presence. 
“Well… that was interesting,” Jungkook commented, his face turning in your direction to meet your gaze. 
You were quiet as you followed behind him, making sure to pull your act back up in the process. You hadn’t realised that it had sort of dropped when you began speaking to the girl, the heat of the moment enough to make you forget. 
You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, instead scanning the area and people that surrounded you both as you spoke, “I’m not very good at it.”
His head tilted in question. 
In hindsight, you should have told him earlier, but perhaps you were a tiny bit embarrassed of it. Now, though, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him now.
“The wife thing? The hugging and laughing and kissing? I can do that,” you finally admitted, “but comforting? I’m not the best at it.”
That was an understatement, but you were sure Jungkook probably knew that by now. His gaze felt heavy as he watched you for a moment, studying your expression. Then he turned away, keeping his eyes fixed before him as he spoke words you were not expecting in the slightest.
“You did alright.”
-
-
-
It was early in the evening when you and Jungkook finally visited the last house, the sun just barely visible above the horizon when you had crossed over the street to follow behind the guard for the last time today. You had visited at least 20 houses, all of which weighed your heart down more and more until you had felt like you were dragging it against the concrete beneath you. Some had lost their son, their brother, their husband, all of whom were important not only because they were loved, but also because they had been the sole provider of the family. You committed each grief-filled face to memory, promising that pain like that would be a thing of the past. 
It only made you more determined to accomplish your goal. 
Now you stood behind Jungkook as he spoke to a woman in her kitchen, listening attentively to her describe the kind man that was her late husband with a bittersweet fondness. His expression was sympathetic as she spoke, nodding every so often with a gentle smile, while the woman thanked him again and again for being here and helping them. 
If your observations proved anything, people certainly respected him around here. Whenever he would pass by in the street or when he spoke with the families, you watched many bow in his presence or express their gratitude for him. But no one ever invaded his space, and they definitely didn’t try to speak to him unless spoken to. It was all in all a respectful appreciation for the man they thought was a good leader. It was such an odd sight to you, being so used to people in the South trembling in fear in the presence of a leader, that it seemed almost foreign. 
Your gaze travelled around the room as you continued to stand with your hands clasped in front of yourself, casually surveying the small area while simultaneously making sure to absently follow the conversation in case you were spoken to. After your visit to the first house, you’d decided that it was best if you stayed as quiet as possible seeing as you were a trainwreck when it came to comforting people. Sure, you’d sort of saved yourself when you had spoken to the little girl, but you had clearly said the wrong things when you’d spoken to Mrs. Hwang. It was an embarrassing shortcoming on your part, but you also couldn’t really blame yourself. It’s not like you had any examples from when you were growing up to draw on. 
You were pulled from your thoughts, however, when you noticed a quick shadow flit in your peripheral vision, making you discreetly turn your head in that direction. For a moment, the doorway in which your gaze had settled on was empty aside from a guard who stood still in front of it, to the point that you thought you had imagined it. But then a fluffy black tail slithered from behind the wall, making you freeze in place. The tail brushed against the wooden floor before its owner turned around, the familiar face and collar moving into view. 
Persilla’s feline eyes stayed fixed on you as she sat herself down for a moment, tilting her head as she watched you meet her gaze in surprise. She was going completely unnoticed by everyone else in the room, though that part didn’t surprise you. That cat was a master of camouflage after all. She was only seen when she wanted to be. 
Which was why her presence had you wondering what she was doing here. 
The answer to that question came when she suddenly stood, walking dangerously close to the guard as she crossed him and made her way into the hallway slowly. She easily blended into the shadows as she paused and turned back for a moment, making sure that you were still watching her, before she finally slipped into one of the rooms which had a door that was slightly ajar. 
The message was clear to you: she wanted you to follow her. 
You glanced at Jungkook and the woman, who were still deep in conversation thankfully, before you silently shuffled to the doorway where the guard was standing idly. 
“Excuse me?” You spoke, voice soft as a feather. The man’s firm gaze shifted to you, “is there a bathroom anywhere that I could use?”
You could feel Jungkook sneak a glance in your direction, but the woman was still speaking with him, keeping him occupied. You’d made sure to keep your voice loud enough so that he could hear the bathroom excuse though, not wanting him to suspect anything. 
The guard nodded and began to guide you down the same hall Persilla had walked through. Then, to your relief, he stopped in front of the door she had disappeared behind, unknowingly making your life much easier. 
“Thank you,” you smiled at him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately began to survey the small space, taking in the toilet and small sink, but your brows furrowed when you failed to find your favourite black cat. 
You kneeled before the sink to open the cabinet underneath it, frowning when it also was empty. 
“Persilla?” You whispered, so silently you could barely hear yourself. 
That was when you took notice of the window beside the sink. It was high up and blurred, but what really made you pause was the fact that it was open. Perhaps Persilla had jumped out of it before you’d entered the room? If she was expecting you to follow her, though, she clearly underestimated your size…
You flinched backwards when she suddenly dropped from said window, paws soundlessly making contact with the tiles before she circled your form. When she was satisfied she sat in front of you, showing you her neck. Once again, wedged between her fur and collar, was a small folded piece of paper. 
“He better not make a messenger out of you,” you practically mouthed with a grumble before you reached out and slipped the note from her collar, unfolding it curiously. The handwriting was familiar as your eyes scanned through the words, though there was only one person the note could be from anyway. 
I heard he has a knack for detail, so I’m assuming that’s why it’s not done yet. No problem. But we really should meet soon, there’s something I need to tell you. (I would’ve let myself in now, but your husband is waiting right outside the door so I had to make good use of Persilla) 
~ H
P.S. I left you a little gift in the toilet tank. I think you might like it. 
Your brows furrowed at the last part, gaze immediately shifting to the toilet in the corner of the room. It was a standard two piece, one with a removable back cover that made it easier to access the tank. 
You pushed yourself off the tiled floor and made your way towards it before grabbing the heavy cover and hauling it upwards with a strained huff, eyes immediately scanning the inside. There were shiny metal pipes intersecting with each other and valves protruding in some places, but it was a black handle wedged between the mess that caught your eye. You grabbed it and pulled it out of the tank, easing the cover back into place with a smile. 
Finally…
Delight was all you could feel as you rotated the shiny new handgun in your hand, taking in its familiar shape. You pressed against the release button first, catching the magazine expertly in your other hand as it popped out of the handle and checked its contents. It was full of ammunition, allowing you to push it back into the gun in satisfaction. Then your attention shifted to the silencer that had been screwed into the gun’s barrel. It wouldn’t entirely silence a shot, but it was still better than nothing and it could definitely come in handy. He knew you well, didn’t he…
You unscrewed the silencer from the gun and then shoved both into the holster at your thigh, making sure to smooth over your dress quickly. One look in the mirror had you satisfied, even eyes like Jungkook’s wouldn’t be able to tell there was a gun concealed under here. He would have no clue what was coming. 
You crouched down to scratch Persilla’s chin, promising her some good salmon for being such a good girl, before she jumped out the window and scurried off. Unable to contain your own curiosity you walked over to the window and gave it a quick glance, but there was no one in sight. 
Just as you had been told, Jungkook was standing right outside the door when you opened it after flushing the toilet and washing your hands to give the illusion that you’d really used the bathroom. You weren’t surprised when you watched his eyes dart behind you to carefully scan the bathroom, but you knew there was nothing to see. Everything that mattered was now strapped to your thigh discreetly hidden underneath your dress. 
“Checking the bathroom after a lady uses it is a bit much, don’t you think?” You couldn’t help but comment, keeping your expression innocent as you noticed the guard standing patiently at the end of the hallway. 
Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction, but there was an amused turn to his lips. You maintained your expression as you felt his arm wrap around yours and pull you closer, whispering the words into your ear as he began to guide you out of the house, “and trying to kill your husband isn’t?”
“A woman can’t have hobbies?”
He steered you along the street, passing by crowds of people who stood at a distance around the neighbourhood, as you both made your way back to the car. Because of that you had to keep a smile on your face as you spoke, despite the nature of your words. 
Jungkook raised an eyebrow to pair with his smile, aware of the crowd’s eyes on you both. There was no doubt that, through their eyes, you both looked like a nice couple speaking about nice things, far from the truth of course, “there are many husbands that wouldn’t be so understanding about your particular hobby. I think I deserve some credit.”
“Dead men don’t get credit.”
“Good thing I’m not dead yet, princess.”
You wished you could shoot him a nasty glare to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but you could only watch him innocently as he opened the door of the black car and waited for you to get in, an arm resting on the top of the car’s door nonchalantly. Taking the opportunity, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving the impression that you were thanking him for the gesture, but instead said, “I wouldn’t count on that for long.”
Jungkook shut the door behind you in amusement after you sat in the car, ready to join you in the backseat until he felt his phone vibrate suddenly against his thigh. He stayed standing on your side of the car, resting a hand over its top as his other hand went to grab the phone out of his pocket and bring it to his ear. 
“What have you got for me?” He asked, casually surveying the area as he waited for a response. His brows furrowed when he heard the person on the other end of the line hesitate before he spoke. 
“Hello sir,” he finally said, to which Jungkook huffed, knowing whatever was about to be said wasn’t going to please him.
“Out with it, I don’t have all day.”
The man on the other end of the line sighed, “I was just contacted by the informant who has been working on what you ordered him to do…”
Jungkook frowned, remembering how he’d asked the informant to investigate your room and the man you’d been having hushed phone calls with before your marriage. He had wondered why it was taking the informant so long to get back to him, but Jungkook trusted the informant with his life, that’s why he had placed him in the Lee mansion in the first place. If things were being delayed, there was a reason. 
One that was about to be explained to him right now. 
“The informant just told me that he wasn’t able to identify the man.”
Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened at the news, brows furrowing even further, “what?”
“He said he searched through Mrs. Y/N’s room from top to bottom, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary, nor anything related to the mystery man. Then he traced her prior phone calls, but none led to anywhere significant. The only thing the informant was able to figure out was that the man goes by the letter H.”
Jungkook mulled over the information for a moment, tapping his finger against the hood of the car while deep in thought. H… that was practically nothing to go by. Why were you talking to a man that seemed so untraceable? What did he have to hide? What did you have to hide?
Jungkook’s jaw ticked. 
“What do you mean tracing the phone calls led to nowhere significant?”
“He explained that the locations were all scattered. Some were in the South, some were in the North, some were in the western and eastern regions, and a couple were even outside the country altogether,” he explained, then seemed to hesitate on his next words, “the informant mentioned that there were a couple locations that may seem slightly promising, but he admitted that he doubts they would prove to be very useful.”
“Tell him to send you the locations, and then send some men to check them out,” Jungkook said immediately.
His gaze dropped on you, who was already staring back at him from your seat. 
“That man is not a ghost. We’ll find him, whether he likes it or not.”
-
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Unlike earlier, you nor Jungkook slept as the car raced through the highway, nothing but the darkness of night visible from outside of the window aside from the occasional streetlamp. You’d already been on the road for about an hour or two, the entirety of the trip drenched in silence. 
Jungkook clearly had something on his mind, you could tell from the way his eyes were clouded over in thought as they stayed glued to the window. You hadn’t been able to hear what he’d talked about on the phone, so you’d settled for deciphering his expressions. He’d seemed frustrated by something he’d been told, that was as much as you could make out. 
The weight of the gun on your thigh felt heavy, the need to grab it and use it itching against your fingers. Technically speaking, you had an opportunity right at this very moment. You could shoot Jungkook dead, bang on the divider to get the driver to stop the car, and then shoot him dead too before he put two and two together. It would be simple, and you’d also be able to run to the nearest sign of life and dramatically explain how a man associated with Park Jimin had hijacked the car and killed Jungkook and the driver, leaving you alive to relay the message. They’d buy that in a second. It would be perfect.
The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would have to kill the driver. Jungkook was a mafia leader, and mafia leaders were cruel and merciless. He deserved what was coming. But this driver… he was just a guy doing his job. He might even have a family waiting for him at home, and after the day you’d had, the thought of another family losing someone dear to them made you squirm in your seat.
Realistically, you knew your goal couldn’t be complete without the deaths of a few innocents. But even that thought wasn’t enough to get your fingers to grab the gun at your thigh. A frustrated breath escaped your lips at the lack of your action, one that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. 
“Someone seems frustrated,” he commented, the first time either of you have spoken after entering the car. You rolled your eyes, refusing to face him. But Jungkook continued to observe you intensely, giving you the impression that he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end so easily this time. 
“You know, you seem so adamant on killing me,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to have my wife perpetually working on my death, I think I at least deserve to know why she’s so passionate for the cause.”
It didn’t go over your head that he was suddenly so interested in your intentions after that ominous phone call, and you had no problem calling him out on it, “I heard you had an interesting phone call earlier. Maybe you should focus on that instead.”
“I am. I’m trying to find a pesky man that goes by the letter H, you wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”
You froze, surprise freezing your limbs as you wondered where Jungkook had gotten that name from. Had you messed up somewhere? You’d burned the first note you received and flushed the second down the toilet, so there was no way he could have gotten hold of them. Besides that, you’d never uttered his name out loud since marrying Jungkook. No, there was no way he could have found out from you. 
Jungkook smiled, as if reading your thoughts, “it seems you do.”
You shrugged, trying to collect yourself, “H knows everyone and no one.”
“But you know him better than others. Tell me, is he the reason you want me dead?”
You turned to meet his gaze, the taunt in your voice evident, “maybe you should find him and ask him yourself.”
“I will. He won’t be able to hide from me forever.”
You chuckled, answer instant, “doubtful.”
That made Jungkook tilt his head at you, an evident question. 
“He’s only found when he wants to be found. Otherwise, he’ll have you running in circles like a clueless pet.”
For some reason your words seemed to irritate Jungkook as you noticed his gaze narrow.
“You seem pretty fond of him.”
You didn’t answer, your gaze instead drifting back to the window. Up until now you’d been driving through a thick forest, the concrete road surrounded by enormous trees that seemed to extend into the sky. But the window on Jungkook’s side showcased the trees starting to dwindle, empty patches emerging in the thicket occasionally until they finally gave way to a grand view of the ocean. If you squinted your eyes enough you could make out a large docks system in the distance, full of enormous ships and warehouses. 
The view had caught your eye though, distracting you from the sorry excuse of a conversation you were having with Jungkook. It was the light that had initially caught your attention, more specifically the sheer intensity of it. The docks were lined with the same street lamps that were brightening the road you were currency driving on, yet it looked like someone dropped the sun into one of the warehouses. 
At first you thought perhaps you were overthinking it, but then Jungkook followed your line of sight, peering critically through the window for a moment before he suddenly sat up straight. It was then that you saw it as well; at the edge of one of the warehouses, a roaring fire was beginning to destroy everything in its vicinity. It was only visible now because it had moved on from behind the warehouse, engulfing the structure itself at an alarming rate. 
A sudden explosion shook the docks, so powerful that you could feel the vibrations of the shock despite your distance from the area. At that moment you felt the car screech to a stop, the momentum pushing both you and Jungkook painfully against your seatbelts for a split second, before Jungkook’s phone suddenly started to ring. 
He picked it up on the first bell, not bothering to hide the call from you this time. You could hear loud sounds erupt from the phone the second the line was accepted, a man’s voice barely audible above the chaos. 
“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked hastily, eyes glued to the wreck. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of the car and run to it, but the distance was far too large for him to get there at any reasonable time. 
The man on the other line grunted for a moment, yelling orders to another before he shouted, “sir! There’s been a few explosions at the West Docks! Three of our warehouses have been destroyed, we’re trying to staunch the flames in the fourth one at the moment!”
“Forget it,” Jungkook shook his head immediately, “order thirty guards to the area to make sure there aren’t any actual threats around and to help out with the flames. And take anyone who’s injured to the hospital right away.”
“Of course, sir!” The man on the other line shouted instantly, but then he hesitated before he spoke again, “but sir… who could have done this?”
Jungkook was silent, and you knew you both were thinking of the same man’s name. 
“Just do as I’ve said. I want the least amount of casualties possible.”
There was an incoherent sound on the other end of the line that resembled a “yes sir” before it went dead. Jungkook’s hand instantly went to brush through his hair, the gears in his head clearly working overtime as he seemed to be deep in thought. Before you could say anything though, his phone rang again and this time your eyes widened as you got a clear view of the caller ID. It was the man that you both were thinking of not even a full minute ago. 
Park Jimin. 
This time Jungkook did wait to pick up the call, instead staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than he should have. The silence in the car stretched, nothing but the sound of his ringtone reverberating throughout the small space, as you noticed his muscles tense under his black suit and the grip on his phone tighten to a point that you were sure it would snap the thing in half. This was probably the most tense you’d ever seen him look. 
Jungkook finally grabbed the handle of the door and threw it open, stepping out of the car without so much as a sound. You watched him close the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to say something to the driver before you watched him disappear into the thick forest on your side of the road, leaving you and the driver alone in a dark and empty road. 
Wow… he really did not want you to hear that conversation. 
-
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Jungkook cut through the trees of the forest, the sound of his ringtone practically mocking him as he continued to walk way deeper than he knew was necessary. He couldn’t help it. Park Jimin’s mere name angered him, and cutting through the trees of the forest was helping him direct that anger onto something unimportant. Because he wouldn’t be able to let it out on Jimin. He had to be calm, collected, and even amused in front of that bastard, nothing that could give away just how well Jimin managed to get under Jungkook’s skin. 
But he eventually came to a stop, realising that he couldn’t go traipsing through the forest forever. The phone still vibrated against his hand as he relaxed his muscles, slipping into the Jeon Jungkook that was unbothered and coolheaded. The one that wouldn’t allow Jimin to have the upper hand because of his practically ancient anger.
Jungkook brought the phone to his ear and, finally, accepted the call.
The line was quiet for a second, as if Jimin expected Jungkook to say the first greeting, but he was just as quiet, forcing Jimin to be the conversation initiator. 
“Hello Jungkook, I was just calling to confirm if you received my gift or not.”
His voice was just as melodically taunting as Jungkook remembered it from years ago, the words instantly causing him to clench his jaw. But he relaxed it once again, knowing that he needed to stay clear headed.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin.”
“How can I not flatter an old friend?” And Jungkook could practically hear the smile in his voice, knowing how much the mention of old friend would make his blood boil. It did, but Jungkook pushed down the feeling of strangling him through the phone.
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?” He asked, knowing full well what the attack meant. But he was interested in how Jimin would explain it, whether he would put it plainly or jump around the topic like a coward. 
The line was silent for a second, as if Jimin were choosing which angle he wanted to go by, before he finally spoke again. 
“Why don’t we speak about it over dinner?“
Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. How could Jimin be inviting him over to his territory so easily, after years of silent animosity? Sure, Taehyung and Yoongi have been at each other’s throats the past few years, Taehyung constantly having to fight off the Mins at his border, but the border between the Parks and Jeons have been silent, much like their leaders. 
Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “you’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
“Yes, I believe it’s time we settle a couple things, don’t you think?”
Settle a couple things was much too ambiguous of a phrase for Jungkook to decipher. Did he want to sort out the terms for a war? Or was Jimin beyond morality now and instead going straight to setting a trap? Jungkook wasn’t really sure what Jimin was capable of after the warehouse of bodies he’d witnessed a week ago. 
His doubts kept him from speaking, allowing nothing but the serene sounds of the dark forest around him to fill the silence. Jimin seemed to sense his hesitance, letting the silence stretch for only a few moments before he chuckled into the line. 
“Come on, Jungkook. What will it be?”
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This was an opportunity.
Currently, your husband was alone, surrounded solely by trees, in an environment dark enough that you could very much get away with shooting him dead and not being blamed for it. You wouldn’t even need to shoot the driver to cover up your tracks, lessening your guilty conscience to a decent amount. It was perfect. The only issue now, was how you were going to get into the forest without arousing suspicion. 
You tapped on the divider, waiting only a couple seconds before you pulled the panel down to reveal the professionally dressed driver. 
“Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom,” you announced, trying to sound as urgent as possible while simultaneously keeping your voice naive. 
The driver, on the other hand, looked as though you’d slammed him in the stomach with a sledgehammer. 
“Ma’am…” He spoke hesitantly, “you’ll have to wait.”
“But I need to go nowww,” you whined, trying to put every bit of spoiled brat into your voice as you could. Then you turned your face towards the forest Jungkook had disappeared into, widening your eyes to give the impression that an idea had suddenly popped into your head, before turning back to face him, “I know! I’ll just go in the forest very quickly.”
Without a response, you pushed the door open and stepped out, causing the driver to scramble out of the car as well, pure panic washing over his expression at your determination. 
“Please ma’am! I can’t let you go out there in the dead of night.”
“Why?” You asked, sporting a confused, and very much dumb, look, “it’s fine! I’ll just go towards my husband. He’ll protect me.”
The mention of Jungkook seemed to visibly calm the man, though there was still a lingering hesitance in his expression, “let me walk you to him.”
You waved him off, praying that he let you go without a fuss. You didn’t want things to get more complicated than they needed to be, or it wouldn’t end well for the man before you, “he’s right at the edge, don’t worry! I saw him and everything!”
You turned around and began walking towards the thicket of trees and, to your utmost relief, you didn’t hear the sounds of the driver following. 
It took you about a minute of walking through the forest to realise that Jungkook was, in fact, not at its very edge, which left you trekking deeper into the thicket of trees, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness. You could hear the occasional sound of a bird, that strange humm that always seemed to be present in the wilderness, and the skittering of small animals against fallen branches, but there was no sound of your own expert footsteps to your satisfaction. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to hear what was coming. 
Once you’d created a considerable distance between yourself and the driver, to the point that you were certain he would no longer be able to catch sight of you, your innocent smile dropped, replaced immediately by a look of focus as you reached for the gun at your thigh. 
Your gaze wasted no time in surveying the darkened wilderness around you, flickering down only briefly to double check the magazine once again. Your surroundings were still empty of human life, no signs of Jungkook anywhere near you for the time being. Your brows couldn’t help but furrow, wondering why he’d decided to go hiking to take one phone call, even if it was from Jimin. 
You grabbed the silencer from your holster and began to screw it onto the barrel, strolling until you caught the faint sight of a dark silhouette in the distance. The sight had you crouching instantly, fingers still twisting the silencer into the barrel as you began inching closer to the figure, using the thick trunks of the trees to hide yourself from view. The closer you got, the more the silhouette began to shape into Jungkook, his black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze was directed downwards while one hand held his phone up to his ear. 
You finally hid yourself behind a tree that was directly to his right, letting go of the now fully attached silencer to instead rest your finger against the trigger guard. You were close enough that you could hear his end of the conversation now, one that seemed to have just begun.
“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin,” he said, voice cool and collected, but you could see the fist his other hand had become. 
Something about Jimin got under Jungkook’s skin, that was clear enough to you by now. But you wondered, why? Jungkook seemed like a man that was unmoved by a challenge, enjoyed them even, according to your observations these past four days and also according to his reaction to your presence. And yet, small attacks and calls from Jimin were enough to move him? No… there was something deeper to this reaction, something personal between Jimin and Jungkook that you didn’t know about. Some sort of history perhaps?
“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?”
You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. It didn’t matter anymore. You were about to shoot Jungkook dead, making the answers to these questions useless for you. This little mission of yours was over. 
You watched a squirrel scurry down the trunk of a tree to your left, the small animal cloaked in the shadows of the darkness. Eager to get this over with, you placed your hand on the top of the gun, slowly pulling the slide backwards. At the exact moment you heard a click sound from your gun, the squirrel crashed into a pile of leaves, muffling the racking of your slide. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook’s expression just in case as both your hands went to hold the handle. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were still turned downwards, giving the impression that perhaps Jimin had said something he wasn’t expecting. 
Distantly you wondered what it could have been, but physically you brought your gun up from the side of the trunk, pushing the thought out of your mind. 
You felt all thoughts flow out of your head like they always did whenever you were aiming, this time your barrel pointing straight in the direction of Jungkook’s temple. When you saw a lack of any reaction from him, you knew it was over.
Your finger finally pressed against the trigger.
Goodbye, Jungkook.
“You’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”
You froze, your finger stalling as it pushed the trigger by about a third of its pathway, the words making your eyes widen in surprise. It had to be a misunderstanding, your luck couldn’t be so good - or would it be bad in this case? - that Park Jimin was inviting Jeon Jungkook over to his territory? 
You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear Jimin’s answer to the question. You even dangerously pushed your head forward a bit, risking being detected by Jungkook, but he was much too busy staring at the ground with slightly widened eyes to notice your form, clearly just as surprised as you.
You pulled back behind the trunk when you managed to make out a yes from Jimin’s end of the line, causing you to suck in a breath. 
This changed things. 
If Jungkook were to be killed in the Park Territory it wouldn’t just cause tensions between the northern territories, it would instantly cause all out war. Killing a leader while he was visiting another territory was a huge no no, no matter what region of the country you were from. It signified at least some form of ethics in a world that was so unethical, and surprisingly you’d never met a territory that didn’t honour that rule. To the point that when leaders broke that rule, it was instant chaos. All it would take was for Jungkook to die on Park soil for both the Jeons and Kims to retaliate with full force, no room for negotiations or apologies. 
And the best part was that, if Jungkook were to go, he would have to take you. Leaders always took their wives whenever they travelled or visited other territories to assert their power. If Jungkook ended up going to the Park Territory without you, he would give off the impression that he was scared he wouldn't be able to protect you should something go wrong, making him look weak. Mr. Perfect Image would never have that, especially in the face of the one person clearly trying to take over his territory. 
Now it all depended on his answer. 
Your handgun continued to stay pinned on Jungkook’s head, finger still pressing against the trigger as you watched him stare into the ground before him. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, going over the advantages and disadvantages of his options while his lips were pressed into a firm line. Whether he survived or not tonight was all dependent on the answer he gave now.
You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, the natural sounds of the forest blurring into the background as you focused on the man before you. 
Jungkook’s head suddenly lifted, staring straight ahead of him as the chaos of his thoughts seemed to subside. You automatically adjusted your aim, preparing yourself before he finally spoke.
“Fine.”
Your finger instantly lifted off the trigger to let it bounce back into place, pairing with the sound of Jungkook ending the phone call. Your arm dropped to your side as the realisation washed over you. 
The decision had been made, you were going to visit the Parks. 
But one thing had become more clear to you at this very moment. You had just given up a good opportunity to end this man, one that may not show itself again, which meant you could not let it be in vain. No matter what happened there, no matter how you had to do it, Jungkook was dying in the Park Territory. There was no room for failure now, only the end of what needed to be done. 
You’d do anything to make sure of it. 
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A/N: Things are about to get very physical 😏 Also comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
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254 notes · View notes
sepublic · 2 days
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Hunter is NOT Luz’s brother, he’s not a Noceda, he’s not even that important to her compared to many other relationships Luz has and vice-versa. Like genuinely, go rewatch the show with this consideration in mind, cleanse the fanon for a fresh slate.
People just latched onto them as siblings because they found their Hunting Palismen dynamic funny, but also because they wanted to ward off Lunter. And they couldn’t articulate their dislike for Lunter as stemming from Luz’s longstanding dynamic with another female character being immediately replaced by fans for some white boy who just showed up, so they said they’re actually more siblings. It wasn’t an issue of biphobia it’s just people being tired of fandom thinking everything would be better if a woman was replaced by a guy. It’s the same reason Huntric also sucks because people replace a female character with some dude, it has nothing to do with bi/homophobia.
And FTR I hate Lunter, for the same reason I now hate the Luz & Hunter as Siblings take; It’s the fandom’s obsession with making Hunter more important than he actually is, to the point of replacing Luz’s actual important relationships with him. And hell even replacing Luz herself in her dynamics with her loved ones, because people portray Hunter as more Camila’s child than Luz when Darius is right there.
This fandom has a massive White Favoritism problem with Hunter, and he’s not even a female character he’s another White Boy, the most bland and milquetoast choice to raise as the fandom darling. He’s not THAT interesting and while him and Luz have their parallels and shared trauma and are still friends, what about Hunter and Gus? Or Luz and King, the latter explicitly calls Luz his sister but Hunter sure as hell didn’t! What about explicit on-screen dynamics huh???
ISTFG this fandom is overrun by Hunter content everywhere, he drowns out everyone except the literal main character and even she struggles sometimes! It’s because he’s a White Boy, that’s it. It’s not illegal to like Hunter, but you need to actually appreciate and engage with other characters accordingly instead of acting like that’s illegal. Hunter does the bare minimum and is lauded meanwhile everyone else goes above and beyond and is still overlooked for him.
Stop inserting him into everything we do not need Luz and Hunter angst we can just settle for Luz angst. She has other relationships and priorities you know and there’s so much more to this show than Hunter suffering. Sometimes you’ll even take Luz’s canon angst and give it to Hunter even! And try to make him more of a main character by inserting him into everything but he’s a side character.
So yes, your AU where Hunter is the main protagonist is racist. Especially if it doesn’t even explore Darius as his mentor, and has Eda take his place despite her barely interacting with him. And constantly praising Hunter for being a weird passionate nerd gets aggravating when Luz does the exact same thing but with greater emphasis, but gets ignored in favor of Hunter as she’s relegated to just Lumity.
And all of her additional depth and angst is just ignored for Hunter’s instead, sometimes they’ll even make up angst for him when other characters actually have it; I’ve seen popular fanart of a Luz moment where Hunter is in her place. Because fandom will sooner micro-analyze Hunter’s hands for nothing, than Luz going on a suicidal rant.
They’ll cradle Hunter’s trauma and suffering in their hands as a sacred and delicate subject, gnash at Darius for not being nice; But then sweep over Luz’s trauma and not realize how much certain things affected her, and why it’s fucked up to just ignore that in favor of bad AUs where Luz is a friend to Belos, who prompted a lot of her suicidal depression and scarred her face too.
They’ll insist Hunter should’ve been a bigger part of the finale and that Luz’s nightmare should’ve been her guilt for hurting him, as if it wasn’t already about Flapjack’s death and just her guilt towards ALL of her friends. So you know what, in addition to Hunter not even needing to kill Belos, I’m glad he wasn’t in that final battle and that the show reminded fandom who the actual main characters are (Luz, Eda, and King), which obviously pissed off a lotta people. Because it’s not like Hunter didn’t have major focus in the last two specials and S2B!!!!!!
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sailor-aviator · 9 hours
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By Its Cover: Chapter Four
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By Its Cover: Chapter Four
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (Last Name: Sinclair)
Summary: The frivolity of high society has never much interested in you. You preferred to spend your time reading, something your sisters couldn't fathom as they spent their time shopping the latest dress styles. The youngest of five children and the fourth daughter, not much was expected of you. You knew you might be married one day, but you hoped beyond hope that it would be to someone that might understand your intellectual pursuits. You begin exchanging letters with a mysterious stranger, and what's more, your older brother's rakish best friend seems to find himself in your path more and more as the season goes on. What's a girl to do? (Regency!AU)
Content Warning: Bickering, Arguing, Cursing (or almost), Reader feels sorry for herself somewhat, Reader disaparages herself, Heart to hearts with mom, Slight putting down of other girls (more comparing herself to others), Secret notes, Flattery, and general angst. I think that convers everything, but please let me know if I forgot anything!
Word Count: 3.45k
Series Masterlist || Moodboard
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You rushed up the stairs to change for dinner, already hearing Georgie prattling on about something or other. Nora was hot on your tail, nearly running into you as you tripped over your skirts. You let out a huff as you gathered them in your hands, practically sprinting down the hall, and you counted yourself lucky that your mother was already down in the dining hall.
“Quick, Nora,” you called over your shoulder, stumbling to a stop in front of your open door. You skittered inside as Nora closed the door behind the two of you, the maid turning quickly to the clothespress, already prying open the many drawers as you stripped down.
“The blue dress, miss?” Nora asked, showing you the powder blue fabric. You nodded, padding over so she could slip the garment over your head. You changed your shoes, Nora fixing your hair as best she could as you flitted about the room.
The note hidden inside your book was still at the forefront of your mind as you rushed down the stairs after a parting thank you to your maid. The conversation around the table was as lively as ever, Georgie regaling everyone with the latest gossip from around the Island. You stopped short in the doorway upon seeing Lord Seresin, having forgotten momentarily that he had been invited. His jade green eyes snapped over to where you stood, a spark alighting upon seeing you. You sucked in a breath, your nerves aflutter. The conversation from earlier that day ran through your mind, and your lips turned downwards before you could stop them. You squared your shoulders, marching toward your seat on the opposite side of the table—just across from the handsome lord.
“Bug,” your mother greeted, disapproval over your tardiness crystal clear in her tone as she watched you sit. “How good of you to finally join us.”
“Apologies for being late,” you offered quietly, glancing around the table. Your mother’s disapproval was clear on her face just as curiosity was evident on both your brother’s and Lord Seresin’s. Georgie shot you an irritated scowl, her displeasure at the attention no longer being on her quite clear as well. You cleared your throat, hanging your head in a poor attempt to hide. You could feel all eyes on you, and you fidgeted with your fingers, letting out a sigh of relief as the servants entered the room with the first course.
The dishes clattered against one another as they were set at each place setting. The savory scent of the soup had your stomach letting out a loud growl, and a snort had your gaze moving upwards.
Lord Seresin his smile—poorly you might add—behind his hand as he feigned a cough. Your brow twitched as a sudden wave of irritation came over you, and you set your lips in a firm line as you glared at him.
Georgiana had begun relaying her gossip once more, her voice droning on as you shifted your focus back towards food.
You ate in silence as the evening passed, William and Lord Seresin speaking about business matters, your mother regaling the table with her charity ventures, and your sister doing her best to prove that she’d be the ideal wife for the eligible lord. Every so often you would feel eyes on you, and you did your best to ignore the sensation, making a point to look anywhere but across the table.
“It’s good to see that you’re feeling better, Bug.”
You looked up with wide eyes to see Lord Seresin sporting a cocky-looking smirk, his chin resting on his folded hands as he studied you.
“I beg your pardon?” You asked, brow furrowing in confusion. Lord Seresin tilted his head at you, smirk still in place.
“You mentioned feeling ill earlier today,” he prodded. “Then you left so suddenly that one could only presume it must have been serious.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach as his eyes flashed at you.
“Yet,” he purred, “here you are.”
You swallowed thickly, your fork hovering over your plate as your skin warmed.
“Yes, well,” you stuttered, clearing your throat, “I’m sorry if I caused you to worry, my lord, but it was only a headache.”
“Must have been a rather nasty headache,” he pressed. You were vaguely aware of the gazes of both your brother and mother shifting between the two of you warily. “The way you ran out of the park, I can only assume that it must have been agonizing.”
You bristled. What was he playing at? He knows why you left the park as quickly as you did, and yet he seemed determined to hear you say it. Georgie continued prattling on about something or other, and you sat up a little straighter in your chair. You set your jaw, lips pressed firmly together as you gave the blond a rather cold stare that only seemed to make him grin wider.
“It was, my lord,” you responded, ice dripping from your tone. “It was the nastiest headache I’ve ever had. I suppose you could even call it a real pain in my-”
“Bug!” Your mother exclaims, shooting you a wide-eyed glare as her eyes flicker towards the duke as your brother covers a snort with a feigned cough. Georgie stops her chattering at the outburst, eyes narrowing as she finally takes in the scene before her. You know you’re in for her raving later with the way she fixes a conspicuous glare in your direction. You can’t back down though—not to the arrogant bastard still smirking at you from across the table. He quirks a brow at you, seemingly in challenge as he speaks.
“Such language from a young lady of the Island,” he smirked. You clench your teeth so hard, you swear they’ll break.
“Well,” you sneered, cutting into your meal and avoiding his eyes, “as I was so dutifully reminded earlier today, I am nothing more than a silly, little girl who will be lucky to even find a match.”
The room is silent as you finish. Your mother’s brow is furrowed in concern as your brother frowns, sparing you a glance before fixing a confused glare on his friend. If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under with how Georgie glared at you, and Lord Seresin. A strange ache in your chest blossomed as you glanced up at him. The smirk was long gone, and a look of consternation adored his handsome features. Slowly, you placed your cutlery on your plate, clearing your throat and turning your attention towards your mother.
“My apologies,” you offered, a tight-lipped smile on your face as you rested a hand against your stomach. “It appears that I am not feeling as well as I previously thought. Might I retire for the evening?”
Your mother blinked owlishly at you. “Oh, um, yes. Of course.”
You were already on your feet and halfway towards the door by the time she finished. Lord Seresin called after you, but you refused to acknowledge him as you traipsed up the stairs.
“Don’t mind her, my lord,” you heard Georgiana’s voice echo up to you. “She’s always causing some kind of commotion around here. It’s best to just ignore her and carry on.”
Tears stung at your eyes as you cleared the landing. You didn’t know why your sister’s words stung as much as they did. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to her barbs at you, but something about them being offered to the man you once adored so much as a small child had the tears spilling over onto your cheeks in a matter of seconds. You wiped at your face furiously with the backs of your hands, waving Nora off with a wave of your hands and a shake of your head. She offered you a sympathetic look as you retreated into your room with a click as the door shut behind you.
You tore off your dress haphazardly, hiccuping sobs escaping you as you pulled your night dress over your head. Why were you so upset? You knew what people in society whispered about you behind your back. You were no great beauty like Lydia, nor were you elegant like Theodosia. You certainly didn’t know how to capture and command a room like Georgiana. You were…you. You were bookish and uninterested in frivolous things like the latest fashions. You weren’t concerned with your looks like most other ladies. You knew this about yourself, prided yourself in it even.
So why did the thought that Lord Seresin might view you in such a disparaging way make you want to break down all over again?
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Your eyes were puffy and swollen long after you had managed to stop crying, yet you still sat on the bench by your window, watching the flickering flames of the candles in the streetlamps. Your back ached from sitting in the same position for so long, and yet you refused to move. You sat there long enough for a numbing sensation to crawl up your hand and into your arm from where you were pressed so tightly against the glass.
A knock sounded at the door, and you startled.
“Please, Nora,” you called out. “I just want to be alone right now. I’ll see you in the morning.”
The door creaked open, the light from the hallway filtering through the crack in the door as you let out a frustrated huff.
“Nora, I-” You stopped short as you whipped your head around to see your mother peering around the door at you.
“Oh,” you blinked, narrowing your eyes against the light. “It’s you, Mama.”
“Well, don’t sound so excited to see me,” she teased lightly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. You watched as she surveyed the room, a crinkle on her brow to match the purse of her lips.
“It’s so dark in here,” she tsked, moving to light one of the lamps. You didn’t reply, used to your mother going about and doing as she pleased. You wondered if that’s where Georgiana got it from.
“There,” she smiled as the candlelight flickered along the panes of the wall. You curled in on yourself as she turned to fix her smile upon you. “Much better, wouldn’t you say?”
Again, you didn’t reply. You simply waited for her to say what she came in to say. Her smile faltered after a moment of silence, and she let out a weary sigh as you continued to stare.
“Sweetheart,” she started, walking over to sit next to you. You pulled your legs closer to you in order to allow her room, and she sat with a gentle hand on your knee. She hesitated, seeming to mull over what it was she wanted to say.
“Just spit it out,” you mumbled. “I already know I’m a disappointment to you.”
Her eyes widened before a look of confusion crossed her face.
“Darling, why ever would you think that?”
“It’s obvious,” you snapped back, but there was no real bite to your tone. The ache from before returned with a vengeance, and tears welled in your eyes once more. “I’m not like everyone else. I’m not beautiful or graceful or charming. I’m temperamental, bookish, and pig-headed. I’m-”
You stopped, sucking in a deep breath as the tears threatened to spill over. You blew out the breath shakily as you wiped at your eyes.
“I’m something…to be settled for,” you finished, averting your gaze down to the floor. There was a moment’s pause before your mother took your hand.
“Oh, my darling girl,” she cooed, pulling you close to wrap her arms around you. You allowed her to maneuver you, leaning your head against her chest as you listened to her heartbeat.
“You are not temperamental, you’re passionate. You’re bookish, but my dear you are so beautiful as well. You are inquisitive and mindful, and kind, and certainly not something to be settled for,” she told you as she stroked your hair soothingly. You sniffled, raising your head to look at her.
“What about pig-headed?”
“Oh, well,” she chuckled, hugging you a little tighter. “I’m afraid you are rather pig-headed, sweetheart. It’s something you inherited from your father.”
You clicked your tongue at her, but couldn’t stop the smile that worked its way onto your face as you inhaled her scent. It was the familiar, comforting smell of lavender and fresh linen, and for a moment you were a child again, seeking comfort in the steady presence of your mother.
“Now,” she sighed, “what seems to be going on between you and Lord Seresin.”
You balked at the question, pulling away to fix her with a scowl.
“Absolutely nothing,” you asserted with a roll of your eyes. “He’s an arrogant, self-righteous bastard.”
Your mother gave you a look at your profanity, but didn’t comment on it.
“It seems that the two of you have,” she paused, “quite an interesting dynamic.”
“If you mean the kind where we can’t stand each other, then I suppose you’re correct,” you sniffed. Your mother fixed you with a dubious look.
“That’s not how it appears to me or anyone else,” she pressed.
“And what, pray tell, is everyone else seeing?” You asked with another roll of your eyes.
“Darling,” she snickered, “it’s quite clear to anyone with eyes that the duke is smitten with you.”
You laughed at that. Lord Seresin smitten with someone like you? It was absolutely a laughable thought. The man was arrogant and smug, of course, but you weren’t fool enough to believe that he wasn’t handsome and the most eligible bachelor of the season. Your laughter died down, a frown fixing on your face as you took in your mother’s serious expression.
“Mama,” you scoffed. “He’s most certainly not interested in me. The man can hardly stand me. If anything, he sees me as the same silly, little girl he was saddled with years ago.”
“I don’t believe that’s true,” she countered quickly. “I think you’ve misjudged the situation-”
“Besides,” you cut her off. “It’s Georgiana who will be his wife. She’s interested and clearly the perfect match for someone like him.”
Your mother’s brow furrowed at your words before she shook her head.
“No, my darling,” she insisted. “Georgiana wants someone who will dote on her and give in to her every whim. Someone who will spoil her with finest silks and pearls. I rather doubt she’ll find that in a match with Lord Seresin.”
“And how would you know?”
“A mother knows everything, Dearest,” she smirked, patting your knee gently. “A mother knows what’s best for her children. She sees her children’s faults and virtues, and she loves them all the more for both. She sees what will make her children happy, even if they themselves don’t see it at the moment.”
You watched as she rose from the bench, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of your head.
“Get some rest, Little Bug,” she told you, heading toward the door. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”
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You sat with your mother’s words for some time. You couldn’t piece together why she was so convinced that Lord Seresin had any feelings other than contempt when it came to you. The image of his smug smirk at dinner flashed in your mind for a brief moment, and your frown deepened as you remembered the blatant challenge he had issued you.
It truly was amazing how easily one person could get under your skin so easily. Why he had such an effect on you was far beyond the scope of your knowledge, and you supposed that some people just had that way about them when it came to others.
The candlelight still flickered against the far wall, and it wasn’t until you heard your sister’s door close just down the hall that you finally moved from your position by the window. You padded slowly over towards the desk where the candle stood, watching the flame flicker and dance as you attempted to collect your thoughts. Closing your eyes, you let your head tip back, feeling your confusion give way to apprehension at the thought of the parading you would have to do tomorrow. Once again, you were reminded of how different the two of you were.
Georgie basked in every bit of attention thrown her way whether it was the admiration and desire from potential suitors or the envy of her competition. You, however, loathed the spotlight and preferred to spend your time locked away in your studio or the library. For a moment, you wondered if you could convince your mother to let you stay home the next day to work on your art rather than prance around the park in your sister’s shadow once more.
You opened your eyes to stare at the ceiling, letting out a long sigh as you slowly brought your gaze back down towards the desk. It was then that your eyes flickered to rest on the paper that had taken up your attention earlier that evening. Your brow furrowed once more as you chewed on your bottom lip, fingers dancing along the edge of the desk before snatching the paper up and unfolding it to reveal the scrawl etched inside.
Fairest lady,
The way of words is perhaps not my greatest strength, however I would find myself in the depths of deepest regret were I not to impart upon you the feelings that grip me so thoroughly and to my very soul.
When I saw you amongst the flowers this afternoon, it was like the very breath within me had been stolen. As I gazed upon you, the sun itself appeared to grow dim, as if it realized it paled in comparison to the very image of yourself.
But, it is not only your beauty that I have great fondness for, lady. Much like the heroine of this book you find yourself in possession of, you do not conform to the ideals of women that have been presented to you. No, you make your own path in this world, and for that I admire you greatly.
I should like to hear your thoughts on this novel once you finish it, but I should like to read your words before then. I thought it pertinent to return this book to you, and so I had a boy return it to your home. If you should like, you may reply to me in kind and leave your note by the same fountain underneath the flower pot nearest the exit. If I do not find a reply within the week, I shall know that you are not interested.
I wait in anticipation of your reply, my lady.
Robyn
You read over the note once more, teeth gnawing on the inside of your cheek as you pondered what to do. You had no knowledge of anyone named Robyn, and so you could only assume that it was a moniker of some kind. You wondered what gentleman in your sphere would have taken the time to read such a book as Northanger Abbey, taking the time to dissect the themes and elements beyond the initial glance.
Certainly no man you knew.
Now, you wondered if you should reply. If you were caught passing notes, it could stir up a scandal for your family, no matter how innocent the notes seemed. It could also be a trick that one of the meaner ladies of the Island was trying to pull. You weren’t sure you could handle being the subject of yet another joke.
Still, you had always been a curious creature, and the thought of not knowing who this person was something you couldn’t stand to let pass. You plucked a quill pen from one of the drawers, preparing it before sitting down to pen your reply.
Robyn,
You speak of me as if you know me, and yet I do not know anyone with your name or even one who uses words such as yours. You intrigue me, Robyn, and I should like to know more about you if we are to exchange letters concerning our thoughts to one another. For much like Catherine Morland, I too have a fondness for stories and fantastical ideas. I only wish that they not be advertised or used against me more than they already are at present.
Can I trust that you will not use my words against me in the future? I find it rather hard to put my trust in someone when I do not know who they are. Might you tell me some things about yourself?
I await your reply,
Lady Sinclair
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A/N: And here's an update for you all! I know I just ran a poll, but I might update Fool's Fare next just because I'm pretty far into it already. But then I'll update Hanging By a Moment! Can't believe it's actually winning, I thought I'd never see this day again, but I knew Jake and Scout would have their time in the sun again!! Anyway, what do we think so far?? Are Bug and Lord Seresin going to make amends, or are they doomed to hate each other? Who is Robyn? What do they want with Bug??
Also, just a reminder that I've started my travel season for the semester, so updates should actually be a little more frequent despite what you'd think. I've got a lot of time to hang out in hotel rooms coming up lol
As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. If you would like to be notified on when I post updates, please follow my side blog (@sailoraviator-library) and turn on post notifications! My work is cross posted on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator. Until next time!
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valrayne-faeu · 2 days
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Hi! The brain rot for this AU is still going strong and I have another question. So, we know that Nightmare and Dream don't really get along now, but was there ever a time when they did? How would they have acted with each other when they were younger/before the curse?
they were incredibly close when they were younger! they did everything together up until they were young adults. as their ideas for how they would rule the Seasonal Court started to differ, and the factions of courtiers’ manipulations increased, they started to drift apart. they began to disagree on many things but still got along for the most part, though tensions ran high and they began to argue often.
when Nightmare realised just how far the courtiers were going to maintain their power, even planning to use Dream and himself as puppet rulers, is when things came to a head. Dream didn’t take Nightmare’s concerns seriously, only seeing the courtiers as the fae that raised them and looking out for their best interests. he couldn’t yet see how far the courtiers had influenced his thinking and even his relationship with his brother.
this resulted in Nightmare trying to claim his half of the previous Queen’s power (by eating an fruit of her tree) and prove that he could be a capable king on his own… to disastrous results. only the true ruler(s) of the Court could claim her power, and as he wasn’t a crowned king yet he was afflicted with a curse, and Dream accidentally shot both him and the tree with an arrow. this is when the conflict really escalated.
Dream had badly hurt his brother and split the tree in twain, symbolising the rift in their relationship and also splitting the Court’s magic; in the coming years eventually the magic would settle as Summer and Winter. Nightmare left with those fae loyal to him, killing or banishing the courtiers closest to him and leaving to settling in the castle furthest from the Seasonal Court as he could— this would eventually become the Winter Castle.
by the time Dream realised the extent of the courtiers’ manipulation and outcast them, it was too late. Nightmare asserted himself as a king in need of a kingdom and established harsh borders. unable to compromise with him, Dream was similarly crowned king and the war began. it took centuries of fighting over territory and resources before a truce was established, and centuries still for tensions to calm and peace to reign.
now there is casual movement across borders, Summer/Spring fae living peacefully in Winter/Autumn and vice versa, and even some tourism. every 5 years there’s a big party to celebrate the peace; the Courts alternate between who hosts, with the fae of the other travelling and staying in the host court for weeks of revelry.
Dream and Nightmare’s relationship never really recovered. they’ll be vaguely civil with each other during events and send letters back and forth every so often to keep each other updated on important matters, but they haven’t been friends since that arrow was fired. still, sometimes Nightmare will find himself chuckling at a funny remark Dream makes during a gala, and it feels like maybe someday they can be brothers again.
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erigold13261 · 2 years
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Will Mama and Yinu in the FRAU ever get along? (Or without Mama getting sick, will their relationship stay sour?)
I honestly don't know. I see Yinu as the type to never truly give up on her family. She would get away from Mama but never fully cut her off. She might go a year or two without talking to her, but eventually she would come back around (unlike OG Neon who fully cut his parents out of his life and what the FRAU Sayu Crew will do once they turn adults).
Thankfully those years apart would probably snap Mama back to reality, so it's not like a situation where Yinu is going back to an abusive relationship. Though I also see Yinu being able to stand up for herself and articulate her feelings to her mother once she is an adult and after spending time away from Mama.
So yeas, I can see them getting along later in life, whether there is a health scare or not. But their relationship will never be as strong as it could have been.
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wasabi-gumdrop · 5 months
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thinking about modern au Kabru
ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).
Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).
his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).
he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).
he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.
Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.
he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.
it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.
Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’
and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.
he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.
he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.
Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)
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aroaessidhe · 1 year
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2023 reads
The Spider And Her Demons
YA Australian urban fantasy/horror
about a Malaysian-Chinese girl who’s half spider-demon, just trying to keep her head down and survive high school
when she accidentally kills and eats a man in front of the most popular girl at school, they strike up a strange friendship and she starts to learn more about herself and the supernatural world
aroacespec/sapphic ish
#The Spider And Her Demons#Sydney Khoo#loveozya#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#you give me a teenage girl with giant hair spider legs who scuttles across her bedroom wall on page 3#and then eats a man and i am already sold.#also aus books are always so familiar compared to US books :)#and yes sexuality stuff is ambiguous but basically: a bunch of discussion on relationship hierachies (ie friendship equally/more important)#themes of feeling unlovable bc you're different and different forms of love#multiple times the MC says she has no interest in dating or relationships and also is touch (and maybe sex) repulsed#- but of course that Also has to do with the whole Being A Monster thing#and it definitely shows some kind of attraction to dior - ie looking at her lips/bare skin; blushing; etc#and ends on sort of hand kiss / 'is this something??' vibes#I asked the author and they said they see them as QPR / platonic soulmates but are not at the point where they would know what to call it#which makes total sense to me!#the part of me who wants more obvious aroace YA wishes it was a little more specific#but also I DO love ambiguity and I think it wouldn't be true to the characters#who are clearly not even ready to start figuring that stuff out.#and also. aroacespec sapphics is like. also something i want#also like. I think it's reductive to assume just because 'looks at lips' is a common allo attraction trope....doesn't necessarily mean#it has to be that. yknow.#anyway. i loved it a lot.#gross spidergirl (affectionate)......#also dior is such an interesting and complex character. like another book could have made her nicer or less fucked up
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kagoutiss · 5 months
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zelink in your au or nah?
i would say there’s about as much zelink in my au as there is in the game, so…like it’s there but it’s also probably sad and doomed lol. link also isn’t there for the large majority of it, so a lot it comes down to how sheik remembers him while he’s sealed in the sacred realm and how she feels about their whole situation over a period of years. it’s kinda hard to say how their relationship is when one of them isn’t there for so much of it, and the other is constantly thinking and mulling over just their memories of them and what they could’ve done differently. but that’s also part of the reason they’re so interesting and heartbreaking to me. im blabbin but basically there isn’t NOT zelink, but it’s complicated and still sad and not necessarily the main focus
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clegfly · 2 months
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Small thing I’m cooking for idksomethingclever99’s fic MITPP!! For some reason I’m having trouble tagging them but here’s the fic!!
This seemed fun to do… probably won’t get more done than this page though…
#omori#omori au#omori mari#omori sunny#I’m ALSO trying to do this with my mutual lynx’s fic is it a bird#because I originally wanted to do one big piece for it but I’ve been STRUGGLING and demotivated#plus I’d LOVE to do an adaptation of one of their chapters#ANYWAYS#detail I really loved in retrospect of chapter 12 is how this fic keeps the detail of the bedlam’s clothes changing to foreshadow her true-#-form as time goes on#or in this case aliquid#since he’s more of this shadowy creature than anything#being covered in an all black suit was a fantastic choice so I’m trying to add something elements throughout#namely the tie… but I’m going to try squeeze it in elsewhere#also not sure what Maris wearing here so I improvised… it probably says somewhere so I’ll go back and check#I thought her picnic sweater outfit would suffice as it’s pretty similar to what coraline’s wearinv at this point in the story!!#not sure how I feel about all the heromari I’m going to be able to draw…#on one hand it’s heromari but in the other hand it’s fucking Henry#he CREEPS me out god I hate him but I live him because I know that’s the whole point of him#get AWAY omg#anyway yes this is the Button Eye scene! so end of chapter 10 to start of chapter 11#I might do the drawing room too because I really want to draw it but that’s a bit of a stretch#honestly though coraline is a very visually interesting film and that’s part of the point and experience of it#and I feel like this fic deserves the same#especially with the amount of effort and detail and beauty idk puts into their settings… eg drawing room scene#anyway. rambling again. take art have fun#coraline
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druidshollow · 9 months
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"what would your character be like without their trauma?" is such a hard question for me because it makes me feel like a massive asshole LMAO
(im attaching a picture of a tundra literally to add context to my ramble in the tags because my posts are structured by a sane person) (you should read the ramble in the tags i talk so much about rivers fsr)
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#like. rivers would probably just purpose funky things for the hell of it and study lizards and stuff#i think environmentalism would matter to him since he was created long before the great equalizer when there was like. actually a view#have you guys ever looked at a tundra for real theyre so pretty. i think the colours would be funkier though#purples and blues along with the reds and oranges i think but id have to draw it tio be sure its not ugly#anyways. rivers would probably be interested in nature conservation especially since the ancients destroyed the world-#but the iterators construction obviously had a massive part in that so hed feel ownership#him and glass wouldve got along VERY well in this circumstance since that matters a lot to her (specifically animal conservation though)#but at the same time glass doesnt exist without rivers trauma right. she cant exist if flowers isnt in his life because he Literally built#her (glass) just to be mean to rivers#doomed for real#i....... want them to be friends in the walky au. my massive block is trying to think of some reason nights Needs to leave his can because#he wouldnt if not required. and glass just wouldnt leave him. in no circumstance would they willingly separate from eachothers company#theyd ALSO need to be really fast because the only opportunity nights would get to get out is when odyssey goes to him to help her build#the weapon she needs to kill dune. (odyssey has the gift. the twins dont know anyone else who does((other than phrases obvsly)))#this happens a considerable amount of time after phrases and rivers escape. they have like. a month's time on them#odysseys like “if you guys are for real about leaving do NOT go straight south. dont. dont. dont. youre like 2 feet tall you WILL die”#nights is like “DEAR GOD SERIAL KILLERS??????” and glass is like “wtf youre only like a foot taller than us”#anyways i think glass and rivers would get along and rivers has a positive arc here right and realizes hes wrong and hes glad he didnt.#kill the twins. yeah its good you didnt do that dude#i jsut really really think theyd get along if rivers had the chance to associate her with anything but flowers horrid treatment of him#because in the normal story all he sees when he sees her is flowers. and like flowers could the twins can tap into his work and see his#files and logs and such whenever they wanted. they didnt do this very often- glass really never looked at rivers work unless she was told t#but rivers was just made SO paranoid by flowers abuse that thinking of being watched makes him feel sick and horrible#and his whole thing is trying to find a way to feel less horrible right so thats (part of) why he decides to get rid of them#hm. if rivers wassnt traumatized hed like nature and creatures. anyways#oc posting#look to the tags for the oc posting
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crimeronan · 1 year
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there's an amity POV thing i wanna write for the princess luz AU, but it's truly plotless n largely just involves her being a spectator to one event that has already happened within the AU canon. which is fine i guess, i can do whatever i want and all that
but. i must admit. that 98% of the reason that i want to write this is.... just for amity watching hunter and luz be How They Are. & having a very long moment where she's genuinely and not-unkindly like. okay. Wow. you two really truly honest to god are complete freaks. god bless, love and light, diplomatic phrasing and all that, but jesus FUCKING CHRI-
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the-eclectic-wonderer · 4 months
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A big thanks to @witchybitchybisexual who tagged me in this amazing 30-questions Golden Girls-themed game; I had a *great* time answering these! I look forward to reading everyone's answers (including yours, @witchybitchybisexual!).
I'm hiding all questions after #1 under a cut, because this got long haha!
1. How did you find out about the show?
Via another show I love -- Good Omens! Or, actually, via the amazing book that inspired it. One of the main characters, the demon Crowley, is a big fan of The Golden Girls; there's a great scene in which the forces of hell hijack one of Rose's monologues to send him a message while he's watching the show! I was in need of something new to watch at the time, and I figured if Crowley liked it so much, it was at least worth checking out. :)
2. One storyline you’d eliminate?
Hmm... probably Miles' witness protection program storyline? I don't mind it that much (it gave us some fun jokes and some memorable scenes!), but I feel like that was a turning point in Miles' character, and I just don't like the person he became after that turning point.
There was no question 3 here, so I made up my own! Hope that's not an issue :)
3. Best guest star/character?
Lynnie Greene takes the cake as the best guest star, for sure. I adore her and she played a phenomenal young!Dorothy. The second place goes to Dick Van Dyke, just because I love him in general!
As for the best guest character, I think the honour goes to Angela, Sophia's sister! She's absolutely hilarious and her comedic chemistry with Sophia is stellar. I also have to mention John Neretti from S6E23 What A Difference A Date Makes for being the best man in the series imho.
4. Character you most relate to?
Dorothy! My personality nowadays is a bit of a mix between Dorothy and Rose, I feel, but the Dorothy side is prevalent (and it was even more prevalent a few years back). I love reading and literature (and I enjoy learning about history, although I don't have her passion for it); I share her love for teaching (although I'm not a teacher); I was a great student in school, but not a popular kid at all; I'm level-headed and responsible, but I can be impulsive under the right circumstances; I'm very protective of the people I love; I'm Italian and was brought up a Catholic; I'm often the tallest girl in the room (I'm just a bit shorter than Bea Arthur was!) and I'm not attractive (not that Dorothy isn't -- but she is perceived as unattractive in the show), so I also understand her self-esteem issues fairly well.
I'm not as quick-witted as she is, unfortunately, and nowadays my outlook on life is more positive and easy-going than hers, but she's still the one I relate to the most.
5. Favourite character?
Blanche, although the other Girls are very, very close. I adore them all and I especially love to see them interact, but if I have to pick one, then it's Blanche. She's the one who surprised me the most! At the start of the show I kind of wrote her off as 'the man-crazy one', and that's as far removed from me as possible, so I didn't really focus much on her at the beginning. Then came S1E4 The Transplant, and then came her family issues, and then came all her memories of George, and before I knew it I was head-over-heels in love with her. Rue was masterful in how subtly she played her; she showed Blanche's depth as a character little by little, letting the audience peek behind the mask only for moments at a time, so when I realized I hadn't given her the attention she deserved, I was already in too deep.
6. Favourite story of a cast member?
Oh, so many good ones to choose from! The first one that comes to mind is Bea's anecdote about the time she was Tallulah Bankhead's understudy. The awe with which she describes her coming down the stairs is palpable -- but I mostly admire how she took Bankhead's mean comment and turned it into motivation. And Bea did get her 'coming down the stairs to thunderous applause' moment (more than once!), so her vow came true!
A fun one that involves all four main actresses is this blooper related to Blanche's Christmas gift to the girls, the 'The Men Of Blanche's Boudoir' calendar. Watching all of them lose their marbles over this prank is priceless -- it always puts a big smile on my face!
(Is this what you meant by this question? I wasn't sure!)
7. Which was the episode that got you hooked?
The pilot, lmao. It might be a cheesy answer, but it's true! I was immediately hooked from S1E1 scene one. Dorothy's incredible entrance got me.
8. You could wear one girl’s wardrobe for the rest of your life, who would you pick?
It's a toss-up between Blanche's and Dorothy's.
9. How many kids do you think they all actually had?
... this ask made me realize there are doubts about this, lmao. I've never done the math! Had to go check on wikipedia 😂
As far as I can tell, it's fairly set in stone that Rose had five children, of which we meet two (Kirsten, with two different faces 😂, and Brigit, who I assume is her youngest one).
It also seems reasonably certain that Dorothy had two kids -- Kate and Michael. I will say I've always thought Kate was much younger than she should have been in her appearances on the show, considering Dorothy was pregnant with her when she married, but maybe she just looked much younger than she actually was, I don't know.
Blanche is more complicated. We see both of her daughters, Janet and Rebecca, and in S3E3 Bringing Up Baby she mentions three sons, Matthew (also known as 'Skippy'), Doug, and Biff. In that same episode, though, she also says she's had four kids! I get where the disconnect comes from, haha. To be precise, her quote is:
"I have had four kids, I have never had a Mercedes."
This is just off the top of my head, but I wonder if she means 'I have had' in the sense of 'I have given birth to' here? This would imply one of her children is actually adopted (which is very interesting to think about!!). Since she directly mentions her three sons after this quote, I suppose our suspects are Janet and Becky. I'll have to give this some more thought, though -- for now my answer is that Blanche has five kids, and that 'four' is a continuity error on the writers' part.
10. Do you think the actresses would’ve gotten along with their characters if they met in real life? Why/Why not?
Interesting question! I think so, yes.
Dorothy and Bea seem fairly similar already -- as far as I know Bea was a big sweetheart, a private, gentle person, and Dorothy's a big sweetheart too. Plus I feel like Dorothy would have been respectful of Bea's introverted nature, and Bea would have been understanding and accepting of Dorothy's personal history (not to mention, she wouldn't have mocked her for not dating/for her appearance).
In all the interviews I've seen, Estelle seems very respectful and very fond of old people in general -- I think she'd find Sophia a riot! I seem to remember a clip in which she actually says she likes Sophia, so I feel pretty secure in stating they'd get along.
There's this famous quote by Rue in which she essentially says that she's similar to Blanche in everything but the fact that she's not from Atlanta 😂 so I feel justified in assuming they would have had fun with each other! Rue's stated that she felt an immediate connection to Blanche as a character, and that playing Blanche helped her gain more self-esteem and confidence, so I think meeting her in person would have had a similar effect! And Rue (being a very open, honest, compassionate person) might have helped Blanche drop her mask a little bit.
The only one I have an inkling of doubt about is Betty -- mostly because she'd run circles around Rose! But ultimately I think any 'mocking' would be gentle and affectionate, much like the Girls' jokes in the show. I think they would have liked each other -- and they could have bonded on their common love for animals alone!
11. What are your other comfort shows?
Apart from the aforementioned Good Omens, I'm also very fond of Only Murders In The Building, a really fun show about solving murders and found family that I wholeheartedly recommend. Derry Girls is another recent favourite. Oh, if you like cartoons too, I recommend Steven Universe, Hilda, and Avatar: The Last Airbender.
12. Headcanons? (Feel free to list as many as you’d like)
Oh, my god. I have so many and I'm for sure going to forget some. Let's see...
I've already said some time ago that in my mind Dorothy drives stick shift. Reasoning for this is that Italians (including yours truly, haha!) drive stick shift, and she's of Italian descent, so... she knows how to drive an automatic car, she just learned how to drive on a stick shift one (and in the streets of Brooklyn, no less!). Still on Dorothy: I think she has a very neat handwriting (she feels like the type of person who consciously decided to improve her handwriting at some point in her life), but she's prone to leaving ink stains on the page (and on her hands!!), especially when she's writing in a hurry.
Rose is really strong! Physically strong, I mean. I know she was a housewife for most of her life, but she was a farm girl first! Farming takes a lot of physical resilience, and that's the kind of strength that stays with you, I think. She's the one who lifts up the furniture when they clean (S2E12 The Sisters), and I don't think they'd let her do that if she couldn't handle it. Plus, remember that time she broke a whole ceramic cup with one bare hand (in S7E19 A Midwinter Night's Dream)? Yeah. I also subscribe to some mutuals' hc that she's autistic (although they'll be able to comment on it much better than I can, if they want to!).
Regarding Blanche, I really enjoy @\eeblouissant's hc that she has a permanent tan! She's from the South, she's lived near the coast for ages, *and* she's expressed an appreciation for sunbathing in the show, so it makes perfect sense to me. Also: she's a cover hog! In the show Rose is the one who admits to stealing the covers (in S2E5 Isn't It Romantic?, iirc), but I like to think Blanche is the worst offender. It's a good way to complete the Girls' trifecta of sleeping annoyances (Dorothy snores, Rose sleeptalks, Blanche steals the covers!), and I think it's thematically appropriate for her -- considering her Southern origin, I think she's more sensitive to the cold than Dorothy and Rose are, and she's always looking for affection, so...
Oh, regarding their sexuality: I don't have a marked preference for any of them, but I tend to think of Blanche as a bisexual with a lot of internalized homophobia. Rose is also bi, and somewhere on the asexual spectrum (and I have textual evidence for this!). @\hecatesbroom has completely convinced me to read Dorothy as a repressed lesbian, but I'm fine with people considering her bisexual too. I prefer queer interpretations of all of them, but I'm honestly fine with any take, as long as the strong (platonic or romantic) bond between them is preserved.
Most of my headcanons on Sophia are just traits borrowed from my grandmothers -- for example, I like to think that she started getting into gardening once she moved in with the Girls, and she's really gifted at it (like my grandma!).
13. What would you change (if anything) about the show/ characters if it was set in the modern day?
This is a really hard question to answer properly, because while the show is still very relevant to the present day, some aspects are so grounded in their time that a lot of things don't make as much sense when transposed into the future. For example -- would Dorothy end up marrying Stanley and staying married to him for 38 years if he'd gotten her pregnant in the 90s? Single mothers weren't exactly celebrated back then either (Madonna's Papa Don't Preach is from 1986), but they still had it much better than they did back in the 40s-50s -- and divorce has become much more accessible (and socially acceptable) in the past few decades. Would she have left him earlier? Would she have married him at all?
And what about Sophia? Being an Italian immigrant in the 50s seems different from being an Italian immigrant in the 20s -- there was a whole World War between the two, for starters. Would she still emigrate to the US? Would she even emigrate at all? How would she have survived the fascist regime in Italy?
Blanche and Rose are perhaps less grounded in their time. St Olaf is so absurd it might as well be the exact same in the present day (and dying in childbirth is unfortunately still too common, so it's not strange to think that Rose would be an orphan in any case), and considering how some people still think and behave nowadays, Blanche's biography and opinions seem plausible even when transposed 30-40 years into the future (at least to me). But still -- many of the issues they deal with were grounded in their time. Take Rose's AIDS scare: would she react in the same way in the present day, knowing that care for HIV patients has progressed so much?
To be fair, apart from all these questions, all of the Girls are still plausible (and relatable) characters from a modern POV; but society has changed a lot in the past 30-40 years, and I think a groundbreaking, socially advanced show like Golden Girls would necessarily have to change as a consequence. It's just in the spirit of the show! The core idea of four women sharing a life is still a perfect premise, but the problems the Girls face, their careers, their economic stability, their ideas on love and relationships -- there's a lot that could be different when transposed to the present day! I feel like this question requires much more space, time, and analysis to be answered properly.
One thing I like to think is that at least some of the Girls might have been explicitly queer if the show was set in the present day! Which opens up a lot of avenues for plot-lines and relationships :)
14. Which other Fictional Characters would you like each one of the golden girls to meet?
I have a storyboard in my notes for a little comic in which the Girls travel to England and meet Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens, so them, definitely 😂
Also, the Derry Girls! Check out this great crossover fic on Ao3 -- the chaotic energy is just off the charts, I love it.
15. Who were your favourite duo?
Oh, I can't choose. Any duo within the Girls. Their 1:1 interactions are all amazing, there's no way I can pick just one. I love the bond between Dorothy and Sophia, I love Dorothy and Blanche's chemistry, I love how fun and silly Blanche and Rose get to be together, I love the ironclad trust between Dorothy and Rose, I love Blanche and Sophia's love-(fake) hate friendship, I love the way Sophia hides her immense affection for Rose under a veil of humour and the way Rose sees right through it. I could write an essay on each pair of them.
15. Who should’ve got more 1:1 screen time with each other?
I'm pretty happy with the amount of 1:1 time each pair of Girls got with each other, actually! One of the strengths of the show imho is how well-balanced the interactions between the main cast are. If I really have to nitpick, I think I might have liked a couple of episodes specifically on Dorothy and Rose in the last couple of seasons; it feels like they interacted 1:1 less after S5, but that might just be me.
I also think the Girls' interactions with secondary characters and guests were well-balanced, in general; I can't think of any specific example where I wished for one of the Girls to have more interactions with a certain character.
... okay, there is one instance, but it's not really a matter of screen time, more of what happened during said screen time. I really, really wanted to see Blanche (with Rose as support) tear into Stan. I think we deserved a scene where she tells him off for the way he treats Dorothy -- she's already pretty caustic in the show when it comes to him (except in S6, for some reason...), and a proper confrontation would have been glorious.
16. Calmest season?
Is there one? 😂 the first season, I guess? It feels a bit more 'domestic' and contained in scope, likely because it was the first -- but it's still a wild ride!!
17. Most chaotic season?
Season 3, for sure. It's a bit all over the place, and it contains some of the wildest premises in the whole series -- I mean, Bringing Up Baby? Letter to Gorbachev? Mister Terrific? I could go on -- there's lots of chaotic episodes in there! (Just to be clear: I love the chaos! S3 is not my favourite season, but it's still great -- and it's got some amazing episodes!)
18. Favorite Season?
I think the honour goes to season 5! It would probably be S6, if not for the whole 'Dorothy falls back in love with Stan' plot line. S7 is the one that contains the highest count of favourite episodes for me, but I think S5 is stronger as a whole, and it's got some true gems.
19. If the girls hadn’t had their established careers, what other ones could you picture them doing?
Oh, let's see! Stan mentions Dorothy always wanted to open an antique shop back in S1E11 The Return of Dorothy's Ex, and I think that really fits her. I can also see her as a (very passionate) librarian! And, of course, she'd be great as a college professor / history researcher.
Despite the Girls' lack of confidence in her ability to keep things alive, I think with proper training Rose would work well as a nurse. She already volunteers for the hospital, she can be competent when given the chance, she's a giving person, and she loves taking care of people, so I think she at least has the right attitude for it -- although I'd never place her in a stressful unit, especially at the start of the show! Apart from this, anything to do with animals, of course -- a zoo, a farm, a pet shop, she'd excel in all of them!
I can see Blanche thriving as a trophy wife, haha 😂 but that's not properly a career, so it's not a valid answer. Taking her keen artistic eye into account, I think she'd be great as a designer -- either a fashion designer, or an interior decorator. She also showed some talent and interest in psychology during the series, although I'm not sure she'd manage to remain completely professional as a psychologist. 😅
As for Sophia, I think she'd do well in any position that allows her to be a motivator! She's great at encouraging people through a bit of tough love, and she's a very driven person herself -- so I think she'd do well as a manager of sorts, although the kind of manager that still works hands-on too. I believe she'd manage to hold her own in more or less any field; she's very adaptable! I do think she's at her best in a kitchen, though.
20. Best aspects of the show in your opinion?
There's a lot! The writing, the performances, the costume department, it was all exceptional. I think the best aspect to me is the premise, and how seriously they took it! The idea of a show centered on four older women living together is groundbreaking, especially since it didn't make a mockery of them -- the Girls are serious, well-rounded characters, with full lives, written with lots of love and respect. I think this show really convinced me that life isn't over once you hit 30, and that there's plenty to look forward to as you age! A lot of people my age are terrified of growing older, and here I am, eager to see what's coming next -- and I owe at least some of this attitude to this show. I'm really grateful!
21. (This question is for my fellow cheesecake lovers) favourite cheesecake flavour?
:) Great question! I love cheesecakes in general, but I'm especially partial to raspberry cheesecakes.
22. Storyline you wished they had expanded upon?
The show has an unfortunate tendency to introduce characters and then forget about them, which allowed for more variety in the stories they chose to tell, but I would have liked to see some of the Girls' relatives and friends return! Like, I don't know -- Jean, for example, or Blanche's nephew from back in S1. Some of the guests' arcs are complete within their episode (as happens eg for Lily, Rose's sister), but others remained a bit 'in the air', and I think it would have been nice to see them again.
Oh, and also -- I would have liked some little references to the Girls' issues and problems outside of the episodes they're tackled in! References to Blanche's pacemaker, for example, or to Rose's addiction, or to Dorothy's CFS (or her hearing aid!!). I understand that the time was limited, but even a small callback or two would have been nice!
23. Questions you’d ask the actresses?
Does 'will you marry me' count? 😭
I'm not sure -- knowing me, I'd probably be unable to utter a word in their presence! Rather than ask questions, I think I'd just thank them for bringing such an incredible, wonderful show to life. It wouldn't have been the same without them.
24. Episode that brings you the most comfort?
Most of them, really. Even the sad ones; I hear the first few notes of the opening theme and my spirits are already lifted. I can pick one per season, if that's alright:
S1E25 The Way We Met
S2E17 Bedtime Story
S3E3 Bringing Up Baby
S4E4 Yokel Hero
S5E23 The Mangiacavallo Curse Makes a Lousy Wedding Present
S6E26 Henny Penny -- Straight, No Chaser
S7E23/24 Home Again, Rose
But honestly there's so many more I could mention! I just love these ladies so much and I love to watch them in situations, haha.
25. Episode that made you laugh the hardest?
This is a cruel choice! Golden Girls is infamous in my house as 'the show that makes the-eclectic-wonderer howl with laughter', and I think that speaks for itself 😂
Let me pick at least three: S2E4 It's a Miserable Life, S7E2 The Case of the Libertine Belle, and S7E4 That's For Me To Know.
26. Which other work that the actresses did you enjoy the most?
I believe most of Estelle's career prior to The Golden Girls was in the theater, so I'm not sure it's even possible to watch her other works, unfortunately.
Show me Bea Arthur singing literally anything and I will be on my knees in seconds. Her musical performances are peak. Also -- I still haven't watched Maude, but I already know I'll love it.
Maude includes Rue as well -- I cannot wait to fall in love with her as Vivian too! And I have one of her early movies in my watch list, although I'm waiting for the right moment to watch it (homegirl plays a stripper and I'm not sure I can handle it in company without making a fool of myself, considering my big gay crush on her).
As for Betty -- Life With Elizabeth, absolutely. She's so funny and so beautiful and so captivating in it! She's simply charming, I love her to bits.
27. Best St Olaf Story?
The Great Herring War from S1E25 The Way We Met, no question. It's not necessarily the strongest from a comedy point of view (although it's certainly up there -- it's hilarious!), but the context and the way Dorothy and Blanche contribute to it make it the most memorable one, imho. It's my favourite, for sure.
(The story of Gunilla Bjorndunker, St Olaf's tallest woman, as told in S6E3 If At Last You Do Succeed is in second place).
28. Best slut story?
It changes every time I hear one, lmao! I love all of Blanche's stories!
If I must pick one -- I really enjoy Blanche's retelling of that time she realized she was even more devastating by moonlight in S1E25 The Way We Met, if only for that incredible final line ("It was at that moment I realized my bosoms had the power to make music!"). I'm not sure if it counts, because it's so brief, but her involuntary remembrance of that time she had to call a cab to get home because the sailor she hooked up with wouldn't wake up (S2E17 Bedtime Story) always has me in stitches -- I love how unexpected and effective it is!
Oh, and I'm really fond of the one she tells her mama in S3E25 Mother's Day. I'm very sensitive to the theme of loved ones getting older and having trouble remembering stuff, so that whole flashback hits close to home for me, and I love how Blanche's story helps her and her mama connect over shared memories. It's really touching (and Rue's acting is spectacular).
29. Best Sicily story?
Sophia's alleged encounter with Pablo Picasso, as narrated in S6E24 Never Yell Fire In A Crowded Retirement Home: Part 1. I somehow didn't anticipate the punchline, and I lost my shit when Sophia name-dropped Picasso. I still lose my shit every time I listen to it. It's a classic.
30. Which girl would you be most interested in seeing a prequel of? And at which point in their life?
I would pay dearly for a young!Dorothy show. It might be depressing (because her life with Stan was... well... yikes) but also imagine -- Dorothy learning how to be a mom, her life at college, building herself a life... so many possibilities!!! And it would be even better if it featured some flashbacks to Sophia's life in Sicily!
I would enjoy a show about teenage Blanche's adventures, too, but a part of me thinks those stories are at their best when retold by Blanche herself (ie when there's a good amount of doubt as to their veracity, lmao).
#these were so much fun!! i loved them!!!#thank you so much <3 i hope this is what you expected?#i do often say i love taking about the girls and you gave me the occasion to talk about them *a lot* so im very grateful!!#the witness protection program thing came a bit out of left field but it's not that bad *per se*. it's just that they used it as an excuse#to change miles' character in a way i don't enjoy if that makes sense#that question about kids tickled my brain. i'll have to think about blanche's kids a little more#but the implications are really interesting#cover hog blanche is so important to me. it fits her so well!! i can see her holding george like a teddy bear in her sleep when he was aliv#and then he died. and the bed was empty and cold. what could she do but try to recapture that warmth by wrapping herself in the covers?#i hope my answer about the girls in a modern setting makes sense. the show spent a lot of time tackling the societal problems *of the time*#so it would necessarily be different if it were set in the present day. i mean -- imagine the girls dealing with social media alone!#any academic career would work well for dorothy imho. can you imagine having her as a college professor?#so many students would be in love with her lmao. oh -- i think she'd also be a great writer! of poetry and of prose :)#i might be biased in favour of nurse!rose bc she is a nurse in a little au of mine that will remain confined to my brain lol#but i do gen think she could do a good job!#please don't take the trophy wife blanche comment too seriously lmao it's mostly a joke. in any case she'd be an active trophy wife#one of those that organize events and take part in the community and stuff. she's smart and driven!#great herring war scene my beloved... it's impossible to overstate just how much i love that scene#it's one of my all-time favourites for sure#the golden girls#tag game
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vorpalmuchness · 1 year
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Feyre being Mor's soulmate would have been so interesting
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crossbackpoke-check · 1 month
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nosy anon again making a return because i think what my brain did was read that i helped find some kind of writing and then did not fully process what the writing was?? but upon rereading i am very intrigued if you ever get the urge to share i will be all eyes/ears/senses required to enjoy things!!
I GET TO DO WIP WEDNESDAYYYYYY!!! the writing exists mostly in the form of a tag (fantastic! 'verse) and also a thirty-two page doc of snippets and planning, so the sense you will be using most is imagination:
don't think i have ever actually formally written out anything about fantastic! 'verse but! the tl;dr of it is that it's a semi-college au: joel is still a hockey player for the lv phantoms, but morgan is a college student-athlete. it's incredibly relevant to the plot that joel falls in love with morgan in the check-out line of a wegman's, lies a little bit, and ends up going back to get his degree.
most of it is just good fun about college kids growing up, but i think there's a lot of parallels between making your way through a development system where traditional "success" isn't always guaranteed (ahl -> nhl, completion of higher education -> pursuit of a career) because that development system isn't always designed for you to "succeed" or have opportunities. heavy quotation marks around success because part of that struggle is learning what you want in life and how you define success. are your dreams achievable? are they still the same dreams you always used to have? it's infinite branching universes of would you still love me if i was a worm (ahl player forever) (a college dropout) (a college graduate) (older) (realizing the fallibility of your body) (uncertain of the future) (human).
silly little snippet:
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#do i LOVE this snippet no we're still workshopping but i felt like y'all needed context for why it's fantastic! 'verse#and i can't link ash's tweet because. priv nor can i link kay or jos' replies so this is me saying Just Trust Me the tweet is this scene#anon the gift keeps on giving. i get to gab i get to be nosy the world is ideal i am here for it#does it count as wip wednesday if the w in question has been ip for four (?) years?#liv in the replies#HI THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO GO OUT WHEN I FIRST GOT IT BUT I MISSED WEDNESDAY SO I HAD TO WAIT A WHOLE WEEK TO HIT IT AGAIN#BECAUSE I GOT EXCITED ABOUT DOING THE DAYS OF THE WEEK wip wednesday#you know the one oh i LOVE this part audio? that's me any time somebody asks me questions i am SO inclined to share.#one time somebody made a comparison about the blog and walking through a garden and it made me weepy i can't even lie#ALSO I SAW YOUR OTHER ASK i am in the trenches about whether i want to post it or not i did also go look and see her morgan posting in 2019#and maybe she is the same girlfriend?? maybe they broke up and got back together?? maybe she just cleaned up her vsco??? SO confused#(the debate is for all the reasons you mentioned lol it's just me deciding how Public you have to be before i think i want to paper doll yo#into my narratives? in a public forum because i would absolutely dm/gc/etc where there's no chance she could see or be involved#(as if she is on tumblr) but also figuring out how much i let into the sandbox. To Me things like the edm polycule or including wags can be#interesting within the narratives and sometimes i just pretend they don't exist! right now i am intrigued by the fact of whether or not#i invented a girlfriend (???) for morgan but she really doesn't fit into my narratives in a fun/interesting way besides that#and i don't want to spread misinfo if i DID invent this other girlfriend. rip morgan's imaginary (??) gf although i KNOW there was one#with the artsy vsco claw marks on his back. i promise!!! maybe it was just her!!!#fantastic! 'verse#i have better snippets i promise this au is funny it also features like. all of the 2019-2020 flyers because that's when i started writing#AND probably ten of those 32 pages are plans for a sequel/companion about isaac ratcliffe my beloved 😭#don't think too hard about who is actually playing on the flyers or draft orders without people. EYE know who is still on the team#but i did not do the math shenanigans to figure out who replaced people like morgan or scooty loots. vibes only no PP units
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wxtchpilot · 1 year
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