#I know I'm not the only one who is angry about their treatment of women
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For 24 hours, I could not hit post, I couldn't respond to any posts, I couldn't reblog any posts, I couldn't message anyone, and I couldn't create any new posts. So I think something was definitely up-- mobile and browser, tried multiple browsers. I could read other people's posts, I could see when people RB my posts, but that's it. No idea why-- I didn't post anything controversial or problematic. All I can think is they didn't like how often I was reblogging Threshold day stuff? I don't know. I just know I couldn't do anything here. Bug or shadow-ban, all I know is for 24 hours, tumblr did not like me.
Apologising in advance for this rant:
The reset button is really bad in Trek in general-- DS9 pushed that as far as they could-- they go to the mirror universe and discover that Kirk completely destroyed it. Great! consequences. But even DS9-- O'Brien has an implant of being in prison for decades and killing his best friend in there, and then he's fine next week for new tortures. That man should have been riddled with PTSD-- crippling PTSD. They did the best they could with the restraints they had, but there was always a reset button. Fridge Jadzia. Rest-- here's Dax but she's neurotic and sad and a mess. And even tho we explicitely and repeatedly stated that Trill are not allowed to continue their lives when they are joined with another Trill, we're throwing that out the window and putting Ezri there because reset button, it's like having Jadzia back, but without any of the expertise, confidence, and joy she brought! yay!
Year of Hell should have been an entire SEASON as Ron Moore wanted it to be-- and they should have never reset to zero after that. They took a great storyline, great character development, and trashed it. They should have had a hobbled little ship held together by ducktape and spit by the time they made it home.
The reason we are whining about new Trek is not because there are finally consequences, but because the shows are just... they're just bad. (we meaning people who are not cis het white middle aged men who wank off to the nostalgia in Trek).
ST:PIC seasons 1-2 were a C- for me (and again-- NO consequence for what the fuck they did to the Borg in S2 but whatever). And then ST:P s3 was just the worst thing I've seen in so many years. Like... the WORST. Great, consequences. Cool. But also, worst writing I've seen in years. Worst acting I've seen in years. A kick-arse Black woman is repeatedly told to control herself by a man. She's not allowed to see her lover because ST:P s3 jumped back into 1980s politics and god forbid if we actually see a queer couple. And, as you say, 10 episodes of a reset button.
And no, Seven is too busy getting fucking deadnamed every time someone talks to her. And when she's not putting up with that, she's wallpaper sitting in the dark so a mary-sue 40-year old looking 20 year old nepo baby can wax purple prose about how hard his fucking life is. And we will spend 3 years telling you that Starfleet is corrupt, that the Federation is corrupt, and then everyone just rejoins up at the end--erasing what was the most interesting development within new Trek I've seen.
STP S3 was so, so unbearably unwatchable, it made me retroactively not only hate all of STP, but every episode of TNG and all the characters. I do not fucking care about any of them. I don't want to see Star Trek TNG ever again. Frankly, I don't even want to rewatch anything with the actors in it.
The TNG crew hijacked the entire last season. Everyone was angry when TNG hijacked Enterprise's finale to make it about them. Even Frakes said he regrets this. So what do they do? The one thing Patrick Stewart promised would never happen-- take over the entire Picard show and make it about the Legacy TNG cast. They turn all the women into wallpaper, make both Crusher and Troi's storylines about their children and nothing to do with anything else. LaForge's daughter? her storyline is about daddy issues and having a hard on for the 40 year old 20 year old nepo baby. Raffi? Her storyline is a man telling her she needs to behave herself. Seven's storyline is just being deadnamed and not getting to do a single thing that makes her worth being there. And fridge Ro. It's bullshit. They could digitally remove most of the women from the entire last season and the stories would *barely* change. Oh-- and that's only assuming you can make out a single thing in the entire series because everything is so fucking dark you cannot even recognise which characters are even there, let alone who is talking to whom. Gates has said she couldn't even SEE Patrick when they were filming because the lights were so low.
We're not complaining about consequences finally happening on Star Trek. We're complaining that the writing, directing, producing, lighting, and acting are all just BAD. We're complaining that they fucked up a perfectly great lesbian relationship for no reason. We're complaining that the Black woman was repeatedly told to control herself the whole series, but it became an entire plot point for s3. We're complaining that Deanna's story is just sitting in a cave crying. We're complaining that they fucking fridged Ro Laren for no fucking reason-- and made HER apologise when it should have been Picard.
The stories are AWFUL. How many Soongs do we need? I get it, you love Brent Spiner. But fucking hell, how many times are you going to bring Data-- in any form-- back? Just stop. Stop. Stop. Talk about consequences-- fucking kill Data and stop bringing him back every chance you can with dozens of different characters.
And don't even get me started on how DISCO botched Section 31 shit. Or how fucking uneven SNW is. Or how Lower Decks is nothing but constant references to previous things that have happened on Trek. There are no stories. It's just 'reference, reference, joke about a reference, pause for laugh, reference, joke, joke, lampshade wink to the audience, reference, reference.'
I welcome, with open arms, Star Trek that finally has consequences. That's not my problem. My problem is that the shows are all AWFUL.
I trusted the DS9 writers to ask a question like 'can you have a utopia without having a fascist shadow-government holding it up?' and you know what.. fair question. Cos humans are humans and, as Sisko says, it's easy to be a saint in paradise. But when you take away all their food replicators and easy living, are humans still going to human? turns out yes.
I trusted those DS9 writers to investigate that. But I do not trust current Trek writers to investigate that. They can't even seem to comprehend that Section 31 was actually a *bad* thing. I don't trust current Trek show-runners to run the shows, because they are just frankly awful. It's this terrible mix of 'oh yay 80s/90s nostalgia, oh legacy trek we love you' and 'hey you know what would be great? let's fridge Ro. Let's make Troi's entire storyline just sitting in a cave crying. Let's have some TNG references that will make the cis het white middle class men cheer and feel like they are part of the story. yay. And hey-- yay nostalgia-- you know how everyone was constantly telling a woman of colour, Torres, to control herself? Let's make that an entire fucking PLOT with a man ~teaching~ Raffi how to "control" herself.
Prodigy is the ONE show that I think has made a new Trek work, has shown consequences, has shown CRITICAL engagement with nostalgia to say hey, guess what? everything is fucked up. And of course, in the end of the final season, they fucking blow that with unnecessary tie-ins to ST:P.
TL;DR: post Legacy Star Trek shows are attempting to show consequences, which is great, but they are almost all unwatchable because they are so fucking obsessed with giving the nostalgia nerds something to wank off about. They do not care about quality, nor do they care about consequences. They care about nostalgia wankery and I am done with it all.
Prodigy is the only one that has even attempted to be critical about nostalgia, to make their own world-- one which has a LOT of consequence, and to show constant evolution and new character development for every one of the characters. And it was cancelled. Again.
Until there are writers I can trust who can create engaging storylines, great character arcs and stories that make sense-- and they hire gaffers so I can fucking SEE THE SETS AND CHARACTERS-- Trek and I are on a break. Like, I don't want to see any Trek, I don't want to even go out on casual dates with Trek because I just hate everything they are doing right now.
Because Star Trek is making me hate Star Trek.
What were the new organs Tom Paris got in Threshold? Wrong answers only
#rant#sorry#but this is the way it is#I know I am not the only one who cannot engage with new Trek#I know I'm not the only one who is angry about their treatment of women#and women of colour#and legacy wankery#i just don't trust them#star trek rant#star trek#star trek is making me hate star trek#star trek picard#star trek tng#star trek voyager#star trek ds9#star trek prodigy#sorry for the rant but#not sorry#star trek discovery
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This morning, I'm so angry that I ever let all the TERF and transphobe talking points about top surgery scare me a bit. Because they're just so far off-base it's ridiculous. If you've ever gone to a TERF's blog to make sure you didn't just take a one-off comment out of context before blocking them, you probably know that fearmongering about top surgery is one of the big things they do.
They'll tell you that top surgery removes a "vital set of organs!!!!" and you'll be emotionally and hormonally unstable afterwards. They'll tell you that you'll have lifelong pain and suffering. They'll talk about how the surgery doesn't cure the ""underlying cause"" of simple unhappiness with your body in general.
And holy shit. I knew it was bullshit but until my surgery, I never knew how much of it was complete and utter horseshit. If I'm being charitable, I want to say that the reason they say these things is because they're assuming top surgery is a direct equivalent to a cancer-related double mastectomy, which ignores a lot of things, not least of all the fact that these double mastectomies statistically will usually happen to cis women who are not only deeply (and understandably) upset about it needing to happen to them but also dealing with cancer, a thing that famously makes you feel awful. It's perfectly reasonable for a woman to find her mastectomy traumatic for the reverse of the reason that trans guys need top surgery - it doesn't feel gender-affirming for women to have this part of their body removed, and that's painful.
But that's not what top surgery is like. Top surgery is a plastic surgery, not a surgery for cancer treatment. It's performed by plastic surgeons who know how to reshape your chest to give you a shape you'll love in a way that scars as little as possible and heals well. I cannot exagerrate enough that my top surgery itself was so much easier to heal from than I'd expected. I'm about two months out and my range of motion is completely 100% back to normal, with no pain at all, and I love the way my chest looks.
And my top surgery changed my life. Do I still have things I don't love about my body? Sure. We all do! But dysphoria felt different than these things, and this huge source of dysphoria is just gone. I love walking around my house shirtless now when I never did before! I'm more forgiving of even those things I still don't love about my body now, because I feel so much better overall! I hope everyone reading this who wants top surgery is able to get it as soon as possible, because it's absolutely amazing. My only regret is that I wasn't able to get it sooner.
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Hallo! Hope you're doing good!
I can’t remember if you've ever written something like this, but check this out:
What if there’s a story where reader and Donna start dating, but reader's dealing with her abusive parents? Donna knows about it too, but isn’t clued into how bad and serious it really is. One day, reader shows up to see and spend time with Donna and has some marks on her body. When Donna sees them, she gets super angry, but reader brushes it off and calms her down.
Then later, they get into an argument, and Donna raises her voice, which triggers the reader. She tries to hold it together, but when Donna gets closer and reaches for her own hair, the reader flinches, thinking she’s about to hit her. This sets off her PTSD.
In the end, Donna calms her down and suggests that the reader should move in with her.
Thank you:)
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))
Save me
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse
Word count: 6,835
Summary: Sometimes life is like hell to you...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))
Normally, it didn't take you that long to leave the house. It was just another procedure, going out the door, promising that you'd be back soon... For an 18-year-old girl like you, none of those simple tasks should be difficult.
But, even if you were really just another villager, nothing special, your family was.
It's not that you were a rebellious girl, you never were. You were always an obedient girl, devoted to Mother Miranda like any of the villagers. You didn't disobey, you didn't protest... You couldn't do it either.
The Black Gods were merciful, or so they said, although with you... With you, they were too unfair. Every day, all you heard were screams, unfair scolding. Your body didn't receive hugs, caresses, not even your ears could relax with some soft words of support, some that should come from the two people who gave you life.
Your parents weren't like the others. Maybe at first, in the innocence of your childhood, you thought that way, that severity could be beneficial for your future, but as you grew up, you realized you were wrong.
The blows were common, the screams were routine. No matter what you did, for them, you did everything wrong, you did everything to anger them.
It could be a good reason to try to escape from that village, so the Black Gods would stop laughing at you, but it wasn't. No one could leave that place. No one was going to protect you. Your life was already written in indelible ink.
You could only do what many of your friends did to run away from their homes (although due to reasons less logical than yours). You could work at Dimitrescu Castle as a maid, but you thought yourself so useless, you thought yourself so stupid that you didn't even try.
If severity served to achieve a better future... Where was yours? The screams, the beatings, made you start to believe those unfair words, that you weren’t a worthy daughter, that you would never be one.
However, you had another option, the worst of all. You could throw away your principles, the interest you always had for women, and marry one of those brainless peasants. Yes, that way you could leave that house but you didn't know what was waiting on the other side. You could improve, form an unwanted family and forget about your past but, besides the fact that you would never be able to escape from your parents... How could you know if that boy wasn't the same, or even worse than them?
There was no way out and the idea of a loveless marriage wasn’t in your plans.
You thought that maybe you didn't deserve to live, that this horrible treatment was the direct consequence of offending the Gods. Darkness no longer belonged only to the village, it had taken over you.
Giving up was easy, the coward's way, but you didn't see that you had any other option. The Gods apparently noticed that change, that apathy, the bottomless precipice that your life was heading towards. To them, to Mother Miranda, to the Lords, you were just caged animals that had to accept their fate, no matter how terrible it was.
But suddenly, your life changed, the Gods played with you, making it worthwhile to continue listening to screams.
The youngest one, the mysterious lady in black who was barely a shadow to the villagers, Donna Beneviento, found something in you that forced her to come closer.
Maybe it was your tireless prayers for those dark deities to release you from your suffering, maybe it was the beauty you were born with, the desire to have fun with you that someone like her could have.
It wasn't like that. The lady in black didn't come over to play, she didn't scold you for your eternal tears, for your pleas, she just stayed watching you, like a bad omen, like a harbinger of darkness.
Little by little that routine was repeated, always in the same place, always at the same time. Your tears stopped running down your cheeks. For some reason, you wanted her to see you in a different way, to not be the sad and hurt girl you used to be. Her silent presence somehow calmed your laments. You had lived through too many horrible things to be afraid of her.
According to her, that was what caught her attention. Your lack of fear, your apathy, your relaxed way of seeing her presence, of feeling that she was close, were the reasons that pushed Lady Beneviento to come even closer, to ask your name and what was the reason for your constant prayers.
What at first seemed like a curious approach stopped being so. The old chapel stopped being your meeting place. And there were no prayers, no supplications, no tears, just something strange that happened on your face every time you met Donna and her doll, something that you started to do without realizing it: smile.
Smiles, conversations, even funny moments thanks to the Angie doll… All of that became your new motivation to come home every night, to endure the screams, the beatings, to wish for a new day to come, and to be able to see her.
Her beauty surprised you, her beauty lacking that horrible black veil, her bright eye, the face of a wounded and sick woman but that emanated pure beauty, emanated that feeling you also had, love.
Your first kiss was one more sign that someone or something had heard your pleas. She loved you, you loved her. There was nothing that could make you happier at that moment, the moment when the lady shyly confessed her feelings, confessed that she didn't see a friend in you, that she saw the woman of her life.
Sobbing, you walked through the forest, on your way to the old estate, like every day, and, like every day, you had to deal with the hell that was your home. Going through hell to get to heaven… It was a rather poetic way of looking at it.
Of course, your parents never knew and they never would, hopefully. She was a Lord, but… But you belonged to them. Telling the truth about the reason for your daily escapades would only trigger more blows.
“D-Donna?” you asked timidly, wiping away your last tears, erasing from your mind your father's screams, your mother's scorn.
“Oh, (Y/N),” the Lord's hoarse and soft voice had become a magic eraser for all your suffering, along with the elegant sound of her heels on the wooden floor.
The movement of the lady's black dress was always a hypnotic dance, one that forced your corners of your mouth to rise mercilessly.
“H-Hi,” you stammered with a smile that faded when you looked at her face, one that wasn’t like every day, she seemed worried.
“Tesoro…” she sighed, slowly approaching and cupping your face in her hands. “Amore mio… I thought, I thought you wouldn't come anymore,” she whispered, kissing you softly, showing you the reason for that unusual expression. “That you would have forgotten about me.”
The contact of her soft lips sent reassuring signals to your entire body, letting it relax in her arms, with her constant caresses.
“I could never forget you, Donna,” you sighed, burying your head in the black fabric of her dress, letting her chest serve as support, as a balm for the memories of the screams just a moment ago. “Sorry for being late.”
“W-Well, the important thing is that you came,” she said, with the smile that made you fall in love, one that was for you, exclusively for you.
You nodded slowly, hugging the lady and closing your eyes, causing your ears to be distracted by a shy laugh that emerged from her lips as she pushed you away.
“Aren't you saying hello to me?” a different, higher-pitched voice caught your attention.
Of course, the Angie doll also seemed happy about your presence, she was even annoyed that you were running to her owner and not playing with her.
“Sure, hello, Angie,” you said, bending down to be at the height of the doll, who kindly hugged you quickly with an evil laugh.
“Do you want to play?” the puppet asked, always used to having a fun time with you, or with both of you, if possible.
Seeing her owner smile again seemed like enough reason to stop making fun of you like at the beginning but… Somehow you started to think if that doll was more aware of your situation than Donna.
“No, today, today I wanted to be with Donna,” you said softly, getting up to find yourself again with the protective arms of the lady in black, who didn't waste a moment to have you as close as possible.
“How boring,” Angie protested, crossing her arms, but suddenly changing her attitude, climbing up your body in a comical way.
“Angie, lasciala estare…” the lady murmured, picking up the puppet, who had hooked herself onto your body, watching you from close, very close.
“Hey, you! Why are you crying?” the doll asked, being dragged away from you by her owner. “Donna, Donna, the fool is crying again.”
Just as you suspected, that doll saw much further than Donna could do.
Lady Beneviento was a sick woman, horribly jealous and possessive. The circumstances of your delay didn't matter to her. The furrows on your cheeks didn't attract her attention. What she valued was only that you had returned, that you hadn't forgotten her.
You knew her past, her sad and almost eternal loneliness. That cold and perhaps slightly dark appearance wasn't an impediment to your heart melting for her, rather it was an advantage. You knew that Donna would do anything for you, if she saw you crying... You didn't know how she would react.
“Oh, no, it's nothing,” you said with a fake smile, wiping your face clumsily, making the trace of those salty tears disappear.
“It's true, tesoro,” Donna said, frowning and coming closer again, gently removing your hand from your face. “(Y/N), you’ve cried…”
“Oh, it's nothing, really, I've had a bad day,” you lied, downplaying it with a fake shine in your eyes.
“Mm,” she murmured, with a distrustful look, lifting your chin. “You argued with your parents again, right?” she asked with a soft, understanding voice, accentuating her concern with a gentle caress on your hair.
“Y-Yes,” you stammered, lowering your head, embarrassedly allowing a discreet tear to fall on the brunette's hand. “That's why it took me a bit longer.”
Donna sighed, softly kissing your cheek, brushing away with her lips the trace that your mother's slap left on your skin, the internal pain you endured.
“You argue a lot with them,” she commented, taking your hand and guiding you through the mansion.
Her voice sounded sweet, but in her words you could notice an accent that was perhaps more marked than usual. Those small subtle changes were signs, they were ways that Donna had of unintentionally showing an incipient concern, a concern that you wanted to get out of her mind.
“Yes, well, like all parents with their children, I guess,” you said with a sweet look, one that you had spent a lot of time rehearsing.
“Mm,” Donna murmured, pointing to a sofa for you to sit on. “My parents also scolded me sometimes.”
“Really?” you asked curiously, trying to identify your girlfriend's apparent concern, one that was becoming more and more evident. “I-I thought you were a good girl.”
“Yes, the truth is that I used to obey my parents but… Well, you know, kid stuff, I guess,” she explained in a relaxed tone. “Sometimes I couldn't help but get a scolding from my father for stealing materials to make my own dolls.”
You laughed amused, imagining that endearing scene in your head.
“But... I-I don't understand why a girl like you could get into trouble enough to be constantly arguing, (Y/N). Sometimes I think you're hiding something from me,” she said next, cooling her gaze, searching for something in yours, something she couldn't fully understand.
“What? Oh, no, no. I would never hide anything from you, Donna,” you said, knowing that you were lying, that the fear of retaliation from your family was always present even though they weren't. “They're just very strict.”
“Then I suppose you won't have any problem talking to me about the reason for the argument,” she said with a serious tone, with an attentive look, waiting for a rational explanation and not the usual lies.
“Well, I...” you began, moving away, with your father's screams resonating in your head, the questions, the accusations they made every time you left the house to see your girlfriend. “T-They don't really like me leaving the house.”
The lady in black arched her eyebrow and blinked in confusion, nodding for you to continue.
“They think, they think I'm dating someone,” you continued, looking away at the wooden floor, controlling the fear in your hands, your only defense against their physical attacks. “You know.”
“Well, that's true,” Donna said with a smile, moving closer to kiss you softly, something that made Angie protest, eliciting a soft laugh from your lips.
“Ugh,” the doll complained.
“What's their problem with that?” Donna asked, ignoring the doll's grumbling and taking your hand. “You're not a child.”
“Yes, I know, but…” you murmured, noticing how your body began to tremble, how all your fears materialized in an irrational way. “It doesn't matter, Donna, they are like that way.”
“What way?” the brunette insisted, with an impatient voice, one that demanded a firm and confident answer, one you didn't have. “(Y/N) stop lying to me, you're hiding something from me.”
“I've already told I’m not,” you said with a gruff voice, perhaps a bit raised in tone. “Besides, I didn't come to talk about my parents, I came to be with you.”
“Don't talk to me like that,” the lady growled, annoyed with your attitude. “I just want to know why every time you come to this house you're crying.”
“You wouldn't understand,” you said in a whisper, looking away again.
“Do they hurt you?” she asked in a different tone.
You should have known that someone like Donna wasn't easy to fool, but you decided to continue with the lie. You were trash, trash didn't deserve to be worried about it.
“No,” you said in a fake voice, with a tone that made the lady sigh and caress your hand harder.
“Mm,” she murmured, moving away and kissing the back of your hand. “I would never allow anyone to hurt you, you know that, right?”
“I know, Donna, but, but you're worrying too much. My parents are strict and that's it. I understand that they worry about their only daughter and that... Well, that they want who I'm dating.”
“There's a very simple solution to that, tesoro, just tell them,” Donna commented, nodding. “I'm convinced that if they know you're with me, they'll leave you alone.”
“No!” you suddenly shouted, waving your arms. “N-No, they, they can't know.”
“Why? Are you ashamed of me?” she asked, with a different look, offended. It was definitely not a good day.
You hissed, shaking your head. Poor Donna had many problems, many insecurities that complicated your relationship. You didn't make a great effort to act better, to make her see the reality of your situation. You knew that wouldn't bring anything good.
“No, Donna, I'm not ashamed of you,” you said with a dark tone. “But they are very... Very traditional. They would never allow me to be with a woman.”
“Sciocchezze,” she murmured, taking the hand you withdrew. “I’m a Lord, what they think doesn't matter. What I say and how I say it will be done, by the glory of Mother Miranda, do you understand?”
“I wish it were that simple,” you sighed, managing to hide a tear that fell down your face once again.
“It is for me, why it isn’t for you?” she asked again, relaxing her nervous voice, analyzing your face while her hands caressed it, removing from it the damage it always suffered.
“I don't know, Donna,” you said with a sob, something that made the brunette move away, changing her stern face for a soft one.
“Shh, amore mio… don't cry, I didn't mean… Oh, please, come, come here, hug me, tesoro,” the lady said with a sweet voice, pulling your body to lean on hers, so you could enjoy that ephemeral protection. “Forgive me, (Y/N), I didn't mean to talk to you like that.”
“I've, I've had a bad day, that's all,” you said against her clothes, swinging next to her in a silent embrace.
“Well, calm down, you're with me now,” she said, kissing you softly, wiping those tireless tears from your face. “Let's forget it, okay? Let's enjoy our time together.”
The tension finally dissipated, regaining some of the lady in black's sanity, leaving her uncomfortable questions aside and making you spend, as always, one of the best days of your life.
A quiet meal, a moment of reading together, a walk around the grounds. Little things that blurred your fears, that clouded your sense of time and space, something that wasn’t good at all, for you.
The clock struck the hour, just when those kisses and caresses were starting to get out of hand. You had never done anything further from pure innocent affection, and of course, making love to Donna was on your long list of pending wishes, but it was never possible.
Time wasn’t your ally, it wasn’t your friend. It was your worst enemy. That tangle of messy kisses, of naughty hands under your clothes, made you forget what time it was, what time of day it was. You hadn't come home for dinner. You hadn't come back on time and that would have consequences.
The lady in black was always understanding. Her carnal instincts to possess you were always blurred by your worried face, by your sudden escapes. At first it was a game, you were a kind of Cinderella who had to return before midnight, but, little by little, Donna's sighs betrayed more impatience.
Surely it had nothing to do with sex, surely what Donna saw, but at the same time was unable to find out, was your atrocious fear of returning to hell, to your home.
There were no lights in the old cabin. There was no trace of your tormentors. It could be that they had fallen asleep, that they had grown tired of waiting for you. That illusion made you smile, walking in the dark, with stealthy steps, to your room. You weren’t aware that danger always lurked around the corners of that house, always.
“Young lady…” your father's slurred voice stopped you in your tracks, making you freeze. “May I know where you're coming from?”
“Father,” you said with a sigh, lowering your head. “I've just been with my friends.”
“With your friends…” the man growled, finishing his glass of wine, getting up from the armchair where he was waiting for you, like a beast lurking in the dark. “Liar!”
“F-Father…” you muttered nervously, unable to move from the spot. “Father, please.”
“What the fuck have you been doing?” he hissed, suddenly grabbing you by your hair, pulling it back. “You're not fooling me, (Y/N), I know what you're doing…”
“I-I'm not doing anything, father, I swear…”
“Silence!” he shouted. “You're three hours late, young lady, your mother was waiting for you for dinner and how do you thank her? Disregarding her work,” he snapped at you, pulling your hair harder.
“I didn't mean to be late, I'm, I'm sorry,” you begged, hissing in pain, something that never worked for you, nor would it work on this occasion. “Father, let me go.”
“You're a bitch! You're probably fucking someone, aren't you? A whore like you is what she does…” he hissed, throwing you to the floor with a push.
“No, father…” you whispered in an inaudible voice, protecting your face with your hands.
“You're a disgrace! Do you want to be the village whore? Let some idiot get you pregnant? Be a single mother?” the man asked, bending down threateningly while you shook your head.
“No…” you said in a darker tone, much more dangerous than usual. A terrible idea. “You have no idea, father.”
“Do you dare to face me?” he asked, laughing mockingly. “Agatha! Hold this brat! She needs to learn a lesson…”
Your mother obeyed and the beatings began.
Your screams didn't matter, your protests weren't heard. Pain, humiliation, crying… It was all you could feel at that moment. Every kick, every blow acted mercilessly in your mind, erasing each of Donna's kisses, the softness of her hands on your skin, her words of love clouded with each of the lashes on your body.
It was always the same, always the shadows eclipsing your light. Every night you cried, you begged to get out of that place, and every night it was harder to do so. Donna would always wait for you the next day, she would always refresh your memories, make your pain disappear.
Could you endure a life in hell? Could you live misfortunes every day just for the reward of spending a few hours in paradise?
Over time, those questions stopped having answers.
The next day, the demon was still in your life, your tormentors were waiting for you to serve them like every day. Your whole body hurt, the marks of the blows stood out on your body, on your face.
Even though, as always, you were going to leave your hellish life for a moment, looking in the mirror, reality fell on your shoulders again.
Donna didn't deserve that concern, that feeling of guilt for something she wasn't guilty of. She couldn't see you like that, she simply couldn't.
She would surely be angry with you for not having let her know the harsh reality of your problems. She could take it personally at best. At worst, she would simply despise you. She would see you as a coward incapable of facing your weak mother and an alcoholic beast.
You couldn't take the risk, you couldn't put at risk the little happiness was in your life. You had to keep quiet, silence your problems, hide them, cover them up…
Taking the meaning of that phrase literally, you decided to paint your wounds with makeup, hide your bruises, your misfortunes. You didn't want your life to revolve around your problems, Donna's smile was the only reason you didn't give up, and you didn't plan on giving up on her.
Luckily, leaving the house was easy that day. Neither your father nor your mother seemed to want to interrupt you. Your body was totally sore. They surely believed that you wouldn't get far. After all, who would want to play with a broken toy?
“Ciao, tesoro,” the lady said, opening the door when you knocked, granting your lips the grace of a soft kiss, a strange caress on your face.
Your body trembled, suffering the pain of her soft hand from your hidden but silent blows. She would never notice, but even so, her face became thoughtful.
“I notice you look different today, (Y/N),” she said in a soft voice, guiding you into the mansion, enjoying the contact with your skin, one terribly painful, but that you managed to hide.
“Oh, well... I wanted, I wanted to be pretty for you,” you said blushing when the lady ran a hand over your made-up cheek, frowning. “Do you like it?”
“Mm, I like how you are, you don't need that absurd makeup to come here,” she said, laughing amused and grabbing your waist, a serious mistake. Your father's blows had reached that point and they hurt, they hurt terribly.
You couldn't help but writhe in pain at the contact, emitting a slight hiss that Donna, of course, didn't overlook.
“Are you okay?” she asked worriedly, looking at the place she had touched, playing with your clothes. “What is it that...?”
“Yes, yes, yes, I'm fine,” you said hastily before the woman in black lifted your shirt to reveal the marks of torture. “I just have… Gas.”
“Gas,” the lady repeated with a distrustful voice, moving her hand away, luckily.
“Yes, um… I think, I think I ate too much yesterday,” you said, pretending an amused and embarrassed voice.
“Ha, you fart girl!” Angie shrieked, pointing at you mockingly.
“Angie…” Donna whispered, shaking her head. “Amore mio, can I do something for you?”
Get me out of this hell…
“No, no, it'll pass,” you said, downplaying it, guiding her hand to surround your waist again in a place your father hadn't marked.
“I can make you some tea, I'm sure it’s going to be good,” Donna said kindly, rubbing your belly in a motherly way.
You nodded with a genuine smile, stealing a quick kiss on her cheek.
“Stupid mortals…” Angie commented, walking with you to the living room. “Does your stomach hurt, silly?”
“Yes,” you said amused, sitting down when the lady walked away to prepare your tea with a smile. “You don't know what that is… It hurts a lot.”
“I don't want to know,” Angie said amused, getting off the couch and looking for a deck of cards. “Cards?”
“Oh, um, okay…” you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. Every time you did, your wounds burned, reminding you of that horrible night, making you unable to enjoy the time you had with your beloved.
“Uh… Your stomach isn't there, silly,” Angie said with a suspicious tone, pointing at your hand, which unconsciously went to your side with a hiss. “Come on, spit it out, what are you hiding?”
“Nothing, I'm not hiding anything,” you said with a firm voice. “I'm just tired, that's all,” you explained, taking the deck with your aching arms. “What do you want to play?”
“Mm, I don't know,” the doll said, sitting at the coffee table, with a slightly different tone, lacking the usual irreverence. “Let me give you some advice, (Y/N)…” she whispered in a soft tone, looking at the elevator hallway in case Donna appeared.
“What advice?” you asked shuffling those cards, leaving your mind free of pain, or trying to, at least.
“Donna hates being lied to, silly. Just keep pretending that nothing is happening, and you'll see…” Angie commented, making your heart stop.
“What do you mean?” you asked, nervous, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “Angie, I… I don't know what…”
“Stop taking us for fools, you silly villager… You can pretend all you want but… How much makeup will you need next time?” Angie said, leaving you petrified again. “You're stupid, (Y/N), Donna may be stupid enough not to know what's going on here, but I'm not.”
“What…? What do you think is going on?” you asked in a fearful whisper, the cards shaking in your hand.
“Someone is hurting you,” Angie said. “Donna doesn't like you being hurt.”
“No, Angie, you're, you're wrong…” you said sighing, incredulous at her accurate accusation. “What makes you think that?”
“It's not the first time I've seen something like that in a villager like you. Donna never notices those details because she's stupid, but I do, I see, you know?”
“You're wrong,” you said with a shaky voice, dealing the cards the best way you could.
“Really? What if we take a look?” the doll said, lunging towards you to lift your shirt, something you immediately prevented.
“Stop, Angie, please,” you protested.
“Angie, basta,” Donna said, saving you from the undeniable revelation, the discovery that the doll was right, mysteriously right...
“But Donna, (Y/N)...” the doll protested, pointing at you effusively. “Listen to me, Donna, she...”
“Go away, leave us alone, don't you realize she's sick?” the lady said, taking the doll down from the table as she kicked furiously. “Leave her alone, come on, get out.”
“Silly Donna,” she hissed already on the floor, crossing her arms and walking out of the little corner.
“What's wrong with her? Did she lose again?” the lady asked, carefully serving you a cup of tea, with an amused smile.
“I don't know,” you said faking a smile, reaching out your hand towards the offered cup. “Thank you, my love…”
“Drink slowly, it's very hot,” she said kindly, guiding your hand to rise to your mouth.
“It's very good,” you said with a smile, pleased by the bitter and smooth taste of the tea.
“Mm,” she murmured with a smile, looking at you intently, as if there was something that didn't fit for her. “But what have you done? What a mess.”
“What?” you asked confused as she came a little closer, looking at your face carefully.
“Tesoro, if you don't know how to put on makeup, don't do it for me, look at how you've put on, let me help you” she said, pointing at one of your excessively made-up cheeks.
“No, no, it's, it's okay, Donna. I like it,” you said, moving away the hand that wanted to spread that layer of makeup better, grabbing her wrist.
Donna frowned, shaking her head.
“Don't talk nonsense, I have dolls with much less makeup than you,” she said, insisting on fixing your makeup. “I'm not an expert but... Come, I'll show you how to do it properly.”
“W-Wait,” you said, staying seated on the couch while she pulled your wrist to get you up. “L-let me finish my tea.”
“No, I can't stand seeing you like this, you look like a slut,” she commented with an unpleasant tone, pulling you even harder.
“Do I look like a…?” you repeated with a trembling hand. “I'm not a slut.”
“I know, but,” Donna said, pulling you harder, managing to lift you up. “But let me take that off, your skin is beautiful just the way it is.”
“No, it's not,” you said with a nervous, abrupt voice, one that alerted the lady. “Leave me alone, Donna.”
“I just want to help you, (Y/N),” the brunette insisted, with her hands shaking too.
“I said no!” you shrieked, echoing off the old walls of the mansion, leaving the lady in black glued to the floor. “Leave me alone! If I look like a slut like this, then fine, I don't care! I like it! So leave me alone, Donna!”
You couldn't stand the tension any longer, it was too much. Knowing that Angie knew about your problems made your nerves difficult, almost impossible to control. You should have already known that it was a bad idea to yell at poor Donna, that it would trigger a terrible crisis, but it was too late to take it back.
“W-Why are you yelling at me?” she asked, frowning, blinking in confusion, slowly moving away. “D-Don't yell at me, please…”
“Donna, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said regretfully.
Donna's crises were usually random. They used to come out of nowhere, like a horrible curse. But they could also be triggered by anything, by a misinterpreted word, by a comment, by screams like yours, lacking sense.
When you realized your mistake, it was too late. The lady in black was breathing heavily, staring at the floor.
“Donna, honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, I, I just…” you stammered, putting your hands on her shoulders.
“You don't love me...” she whispered, with a cold, dark look, one that pierced your aching heart. “You don't love me!”
“What? No, honey, don't say that... It was just, it was just a mistake and... Donna, don't lose your mind, please,” you said nervously, seeing how madness took over her gaze irremediably.
“You don't love me... You don't love me... Nobody loves me!” she screamed madly, pushing your hands away with a movement that caused more pain in your blows and an emerging fear in your nervous system.
“D-Donna, don't say that, I, I love you…” you whispered, approaching cautiously, trying to escape from her spasmodic movements, seeing how little by little her presence generated an unknown fear in you.
“You’re lying! Porca miseria!” she shrieked again, kicking the coffee table, knocking over the cups on it, breaking into a thousand pieces. “You're a liar…”
That last hiss made you step back scared. For the first time that crisis wasn't horrible memories, traumas from the past. You were the cause and you didn't know what the consequences could be, but your mind was already working on imagining them.
“I-I'm not lying,” you whispered in a weak, horrified tone, one that didn't calm the lady's nerves, who approached you angrily, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt.
“You don't love me, I disgust you…” she hissed, swinging you threateningly but suddenly letting go, holding her hair tightly, complaining of an invisible pain. “Ah! No! Taci! Taci!”
Your eyes betrayed you. Her hands pulled at her hair as she shook her head. In a moment, her insane eye met yours, with a look that you mistook.
It wasn't the face of your beloved, of your girlfriend, of the woman who was the most important thing in your life. That bright rage in her eye belonged to your father, that alcoholic and deranged man. Fear rose through your body, paralyzing it, forcing it to only tremble in panic.
You began to run out of air, your heart was beating too fast. You were completely terrified.
“(Y/N)…” Donna hissed, reaching out an arm towards you.
You, seeing your father raise his hand to hit you, pulled away from her grip, running desperately in search of a place to take refuge. Sanity immediately abandoned you and you could only feel panic and terror.
“Don’t, don't hurt me!” you screamed while crying, while you took refuge in a nearby corner, covering your face defensively with your hands. “Don't hit me, please...”
The lady didn't answer but you could hear her saying things you didn't understand, fighting with herself. When that fight ended, you knew you would be next, that you would receive a well-deserved punishment for your insolence.
“Please...” you begged, closing your eyes, bringing your knees to your chest, waiting for the strong blow that never came.
“Donna, Donna!” Angie's screams sounded blurry in your mind, but you could hear them. “Bad Donna, stupid Donna! Oh, oh, eh, eh, don't do that, don't do that!”
“Angie...!” the lady screamed, crying inconsolably. “Angie…”
“Hey, hey, come on, it's all over, my Donna, nobody wants to hurt you, nobody insults you… I'm here with you… (Y/N) is… Where is she?” she finally asked.
“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, catching her breath with a scared voice. “(Y/N)?”
“Did you hurt her, silly Donna?” Angie asked, locating you immediately and running towards you. “Bad, bad Donna!”
“W-What…? N-No…” the lady stammered, with a much calmer voice.
Fortunately, the crises passed quickly, almost always due to your words, your hugs, or the infinite affection of her doll.
“(Y/N),” the lady sighed, crouching before you, gently pushing your hands away. “Amore mio…”
“No! No please! Don't hurt me, please!” you screamed, frantically, thrashing around in place and fighting her grip. “Don’t hit me anymore!”
“Did you hit her?” Angie asked, crossing her arms.
“Of course I didn’t, I don’t think so,” she said, fighting against your spasms, against your illogical attempts to escape. “(Y/N), please…”
“I promise I’ll be good, father!” you screamed, even smelling the stale wine he was drinking. “Don’t hit me…!”
“Father?” Donna asked, letting your wrists go and forcing you to look at her.
Your face was covered in tears of terror that, unfortunately, took some of your makeup away.
“(Y/N), please react, it’s me… Tesoro, I would never hurt you, please look at me, look…” the lady stopped when her eye passed over your wounded cheek, making you blink in confusion as her hand caressed your wound. “Mio Dio…”
“No…” you sighed, crying harder, without removing the softness of her hand from your wounded cheek, burning from the touch. “No…”
“Who did…?” she asked with a broken voice, putting her hands on your shoulders. “(Y/N), look at me, who did this to you?”
“Nobody,” you answered, burying your head between your legs again, pushing the brunette away with an unpleasant push. “Nobody!”
“Donna, Donna, the shirt, lift the shirt…” Angie whispered, pulling the dress, jumping slightly on the floor. “The shirt, the shirt.”
“Cosa?” she asked confused, kneeling on the floor and bringing her hand to your side, slowly lifting your clothes, gasping in horror when she noticed the horrible marks on your skin, the bruises, your wounds... “(Y/N)…”
You didn't answer. You simply writhed in pain at her cautious touch, shaking your head.
“(Y/N)!” the enraged lady shrieked, abruptly lifting your chin. “Look at me!”
You, fearing retaliation, obeyed. Your face was torn by tears, but hers seemed serious, serene, far removed from the previous crisis.
“It was them, wasn't it?” she asked in a dull, cold tone, with an intense look. “Your parents, they did this to you.”
“N-No, I…” you stammered, shaking your head awkwardly.
“You just confirmed it to me,” Donna sighed, taking one of your hands and caressing it gently. “Gods, (Y/N), how long have you been like this?”
“S-Since I can remember,” you finally confessed. There was no more reason to keep lying. It was the moment of truth.
“Mm,” she murmured, with apparent disinterest. “Angie, stay here with her. Don't, let her out of your sight, is that clear?”
“Yes, ma'am,” the doll said, standing beside you, watching you cautiously.
“W-Where are you going?” you asked confused when you saw the woman stand up and shake off her dress, walking towards the drawer where she kept her veil. “Donna?”
“This ends here and now, (Y/N),” she said in a dark voice, hiding her face. “They won't hurt you again, ever again.”
Her voice betrayed her intentions, ones you noticed, ones that horrified you. You didn't know if it was false devotion or some kind of illness, but imagining your parents suffering Beneviento's wrath made your stomach turn, forcing you to get up and run after her.
“No, Donna, wait!” you screamed, grabbing her arm tightly, something she prevented you from doing by moving in an unpleasant way.
“Lasciami!” she shouted furiously, gently pushing you by the shoulders. “Stay here, (Y/N)”
“N-No… What, what, what are you going to do?” you asked scared. “Donna, wait…”
“Stay here,” the lady repeated, opening the door of the mansion. “Obey.”
“No! You will kill them!” you screamed, making her miraculously stop and sigh, nodding slowly.
“Yes, I'm going to kill them,” she said without remorse. “Stay here.”
“No, Donna, please no,” you said desperately, running back to her side, grabbing her by the waist. The lady in black protested again, using your blows to make you move away of your own free will. “Don’t kill them…”
“Are you asking me to let the one who hurts you live? Is that what you’re asking me!?” she screamed angrily, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.
“Please,” you sobbed, unable to reason with her anger, with her desire for revenge. No, them dying wasn’t justice, it couldn’t be. You were better than them, and you knew it. “Please, I beg you…”
“No, (Y/N),” she said, watching you kneel down, pathetically crawling towards her. “I have to protect you, otherwise, I wouldn’t have the right to love you.”
“Don’t do it, please, Donna, don’t kill them… Please…” you said, humiliating yourself even more, grabbing her legs so she couldn’t take another step.
“(Y/N), stop… Ugh, cazzo, (Y/N)…” the lady protested, kicking for you to let her go. “I won't let those beasts hurt you anymore.”
“Please…” you sobbed again, letting yourself fall on the floor. “If they die, I'll be like them… I don't want you… I don't want you to do something that horrible, please… Don't do it…” you said with an even more pitiful sob.
Luckily, Donna closed the door with a sigh, lifting you off the floor and pressing you against her, letting the crying drown in her dress.
“Not you, please, Donna… I don't want you to be like them…” you said against the fabric while her arms surrounded you lovingly. “Please…”
“Shhh, stop, (Y/N),” she whispered to you lovingly, in a different tone, pushing the veil away from her face and cupping yours in her hands. “It’s okay…”
“Donna…” you sighed, grabbing the hands that held your wounded face. “Donna, I’m, I’m scared…”
“I know… I know, tesoro… But don’t worry, it’s all over now,” she said, cradling you gently. “It’s all over now, amore mio… You’re with me… And you always will be…”
“I can’t take it anymore…”
“You won’t have to. You won’t go back to that house, (Y/N). You’ll stay with me, forever. I’ll protect you. No one will hurt you again, I promise…”
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hii, I just saw your ot8 skz x reader reaction. Could you make one of these for enhypen? It might be a bit nsfw?
My boys won't hesitate to come out for you boy.
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➝ OT7!Enhypen x 8thMember!Reader ➝ A journalist asks weird questions, your boys gives weird answers - well, not so much, they are still idols, but they really want to. ➝ A bit suggestive, swear words?
➝ 1,4k w
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You don't mind people asking about your genre. Well, you usually don't mind it. Whenever and wherever, you really don't mind it. But sometime - like, right now, you just want to rip your hair off your scalp and yell until people's eardrum explode. Yeah, it's either this or that, there's no in-between when it comes to this question.
And unfortunately for you, the second option seems to be the least effective given the situation, yet it is the one who appeals you, very much - way too much.
"How hard are the choreographies for you?"
You think the addition of those pitiful words 'for you' is really unnecessary. Well, the person asking you this is almost fifty for God's sake, they should know how to behave like a proper adult, shouldn't he? But here you are, smiling because 'no, you can't answer misogynistic remarks or it will be detrimental to your reputation'. But what about their reputation, huh? You absolutely hate the fact that Korea is one of those countries where most of the men treats women like they are dirt under their feet. Did they came out of their father's a**?!
"Oh, I can assure you that I have no problems with the choreographies. And even if I do have some troubles some time, I just stay in the practice room in order to get better and show the very best side of myself for our fans."
You practiced your speech, you know it like the back of your hand - well you need to when you are a girl in a boy group, in Korea, what a pain. The interviewer seems upset about the way you react to this awful question - who even employed him? This is a question a baby could ask, did he even work on his interview? And you smile. It's bitter-sweet because you don't want to smile, but you enjoy seeing the tip of his ears turning red.
You just know that Sunoo, who's sitting right in front of you, is smiling like a little psychopath - from your point a view, fans tend to think that he has a pretty smile, you too, but sometimes you just know that he's not smiling for the good reason; like now, he's just making fun of the old man in front of you.
"Yeah sh's very hardworking! She always stay up late in order to practice."
Jake spit out this lie like he was born to do so. But it does not surprises you, Jake is used having his way with everyone, he just have to blink those round pretty puppy eyes and everyone believe whatever nonsense that come out of his mouth. You both know that you're probably this first member that gets home when practice is done - you're a bit lazy, but just a bit.
Jake defending you was just the right thing for the interviewer to babble the rest of his nonsense.
"I heard you all live in the same dorm? Isn't it a bit hard to accommodate to her way of living? Do you guys share a bathroom?"
You laugh out loud because you just can't help it. You're glad that your occidental fans will be on your side because else, you would be in trouble. At this point you don't really know if this journalist want a scoop or you to get angry in front of the cameras, only to post it later and label you as disrespectful.
"Yeah, I'm glad we can talk about it. She uses all the hot water and stay in the bathroom for hours! Women"
Jay is the first to answer the odd question with the exact answer the journalist was aiming at: a cliché. The way the American is looking at you is just enough to tell you that he concluded the same thing. Once again, you notice how the two native-english people were the first to speak. The three of you are not used to this king of treatment, you guess it's the reason why they're the first to speak up.
"Not longer than Sunoo."
The ever so innocent Sunghoon tries to contest the inside joke that you and Jay were having, fearing that it might upset you and be inappropriate given the situation you were in. He tries to defend you, it's cute.
"Hey, that's not true!"
You all look at him because what is 'not true' is what he just said. And he even have the nerve to act surprised and outraged - well, as much as is cute pretty face allows him to be, you only see a little dumpling growing its non-existing eyebrows.
"Well, maybe a bit. How else my skin could be this smooth?"
"I must admit that I'm a bit jealous. Sunoo is prettier than me, and im a girl!"
You insist on the last word. It's like a big fuck you to the bald man in front of you - he's not really bald, but he deserves to be bald. Sunoo turns all the way to send you a heart with his fingers - you really like how his cheeks get fuller as he smiles brightly at you, he looks pure. He looked far from pure when those same cheeks were pressing on your inner thighs- Oh. This is definitely not the time nor the place.
You don't really know what happened but the interview continue without any other dumb questions and you're allowed to breath for a few minutes. Well, you try. It's like your mind is polluted with the exact images the grown man was accusing you off - well those accusations, the second one only, are kinda true. You can't remember a day you were alone in the bathroom, and it's even harder to remember when you were not corrupting every once of that same bathroom with...impure things?
You all get back to the changing room, waiting for the company car to arrive.
"What a prick."
Sunoo is the first one to talk, almost lying toward the couch to have at least a sit - or alf a seat, both option seems appealing given the fact that he has to compete against seven people for the comfort of a cushion under their bum; the chair were not comfortable.
"Yeah, I hope our fans give him a bad reputation. They're quite good at that."
"This is mean and you know it."
You answer Heeseung while crossing your arms, almost sulking at the mere idea that this man would be hunted down for just being raised like this.
"Yeah? He has nor right talking to you like that. And impplying those things."
"Implying? Was he?" you chuckle and uncross your arms, eating toward your jacket that was left on one of the coat rack in the corner of the room. A brief flashback of approximately two days ago floods your memory and you're left breathless and a bit hot and bothered at the memory of Sunghoon's lips on your neck, his hand between your thighs. You are grateful you are not facing, otherwise you wouldn't hear the end of it - they can be persistent in their teasing, you only Lind it when you are the victim (you are still teasing Ni-ki about those pre-pre-debut Twice's video, you might the worse of them all).
"Yeah, but they don't know that." Jake says, unbothered by the whole situation. This little piece of shit is probably the person who doesn't even deserve to talk about this subject. Any chance he gets, he's stealing the air from your lungs - and your panties, but only when you are in the dormitory.
"Still, no one deserves to have their life ruined because of the way they think, if that makes sense?"
"Your Korean is getting better."
You smile softly at Jungwon, patting his head as you walk around the mini-couch, "Your English too."
You really want to hug him, or sit on Jay's laps because it's literally the best sit ever, or burrow your frame into Sunghoon's warm embrace. But you can't really do that here. Anyone can enter the room and everyone can take pictures, you wouldn't risk it.
But you don't mind it. There's always time for you to enjoy the presence of your boyfriends. And you can also enjoy the way they fight tooth and nail for your 'honor' - their words, not yours.
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Hello hello I hope this ask reaches you well because I'm very not well thinking about rich alpha ptn women aka Eirene Chelsea and Cabernet share a lil omega together 🥵🥵
You're a freshly recruited omega who's responsible for working in the MBCC's cafeteria. The job is simple, you stay behind counters to serve the Sinners their meals and wait until they leave to clean the area. The bureau pays you well, enough to make ends meet every months but in your mind, you know you can achieve more than this.
In the first few weeks you do job perfectly, and even make friends with some Sinners. One of them is the famous Cabernet Franc, daughter of one of the riches families in Eastside. Cabernet clearly has an interest in you, her lust keeps growing stronger and stronger but before she can sweep you away, you magically disappear from your job in the cafeteria. When she discovers that you've resigned to work for the Quinn Industry, she knows she has to have a personal talk with the Eirene Quinn.
Chelsea thought she found you first, a naive, innocent and unmated omega who's working hard to earn money in the bureau. Immediately she takes you under her wings, telling you to be her mate and she will provide you an endless amount of money! When you reluctantly refuse, saying that you would rather be financially independent and that the Quinn CEO has already promised you a position in her company, Chelsea is absolutely furious. How dare the woman steal you from her?
On the other hand, Eirene is very pleased that she has the upper hand in keeping you to herself. You come to her cell all by your own, personally asking her about the vacant positions in her company without fears that she may tear your life into threads. Your determination and willingness to have a stable job in her company amused her, but it was your sweet odor of purity attracted her. It didn't take much effort to trick you into working as her "private secrectary", you were just so oblivious to the alpha's hungry stare. Eirene is the woman of conquer, so when she sees something she wants, she will get it. But why do you come into her office, according to her request to give you a brief explanation of work (a lie ofc), with two angry alphas follow quietly behind?
As a result, you are trapped in a same room with 3 intimidating alphas who're trying to kill each other to win over you. You're freaked out at the scene before you, wanting to run away and hide. But before you can take one step away from their gaze Chelsea makes an offer: "Why don't we share this little one?" The other two look at each other in silence, then nod their head in agreement.
The only one who seems to disagree is you, though. Being mated to not one, but three alphas at the same time, how can your body withstand the rough treatment? You try to run again, only to be caught in Cabernet's vines and being tied up in an embarrassing position: legs spread out on the head, hands on your head, immobile. Three pair of eyes stare at your clothed body making you instinctively squirm, their pheromones being spread you cause your heat to overcome your senses, then in a blink of an eye you are begging them to touch you desperately.
Half an hour later you have Chelsea behind your back, thrusting in and out of your ass and playing with your nipples, Eirene on her knees in front pushing her cock into your mouth, and Cabernet hungrily taking your pussy. Although the alphas still hate each other, they all decide that pleasing the omega together is their priority and tone down the hatred. Why would they fight when they have a needy girl to dote on like this? By the time each woman has their full, you've passed out from exhaustion and overstimulation, leaving to clean up the wet mess on the bed, full of their cum. Eirene plugs your pussy up, telling the other two that whoever your first child is can have you to themselves for an entire week.
They never back down from a challenge, so prepare yourself to be absolutely ravaged in the next months...
Oh god, this is so hot. Like I can completely see Cabernet getting pussy drunk off you. She's eating you out, her little Omega, like your a fucking feast, and you are! She would happily eat you out for hours, not caring if you've long passed out, she's just addicted to your taste, and you can't blame her! She'd be fucking/humping her cock into the bed, and she doesn't need any stimulation on her pretty cock, because tasting your cum is enough to get her off.
Chelsea is pathetic when it comes to you, her shared Omega. She can be possessive, wanting to mark you up with her teeth and nails, to try and show claim that your hers- even though she does share you with two other women. She's the one mainly fucking you with her cock, giving you endless creampies, because she doesn't ever want to pull out of your pretty pussy.
Eirene is probably the most dominant out of the three, and she's the one who sees you the most, considering you work with her. Being her private secretary means you're usually under her desk in her office, having her cock shoved down your through, making you suck her off and cockwarm her with your mouth. She also loves fucking you against the wall of windows in her office, making you stare at the bustling street below while she's fucking you rough and fast and staining your soaked pussy with her cum.
@sea-lanterns You'll love this because it has your wife, Cabernet.
#*:・゚✧*:・゚sins inbox#*:・゚✧*:・゚sins thirsts#cabernet#cabernet x reader#cabernet x you#chelsea#chelsea x reader#chelsea x you#eirene#eirene x reader#eirene x you
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LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL
Part Five
Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader
Check part 6 here 🆕
Check part 4 here.
a/n: Hii, I hope you enjoy this part as well, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list 🫶🏻
if you have any ideas of details you want me to include please let me know and don't hesitate to share your critics it helps me a lot to better my writings <3
Music recommendation ♪ : SKZ- Taste ( Yes I am a Stay ♡ )
You shook your hand with Nanami's. Smiling softly at him.
“I see your wife is now playing your game..Gojo?” Said Mei Mei wearing an amused expression,
only earning a glare in return from the man sitting in front of her.
“Come on, don't tell me Nanami triggered your jealousy and protectiveness over your wife” she added.
“Im.Not.Jealous!! And.Shes.Not.A.Real.Wife” he whispered in an angry low tone.
“Hm then why are you so upset about it?” she asked sipping water from her cup.
Gojo leaned in and said, “because I want everyone to treat her poorly, everyone to belittle her and this guys over here shouldn't interfere or try to defend her like the gentleman he is– that's why I'm pissed...my plan is to make her life a living nightmare, and it shouldn't be ruined by anyone, especially Nanamin.. Understood now?”
“Understood” she simply said, looking forward for all the drama that she'll soon witness.
She was relieved that he wasn't jealous, Mei Mei desired Gojo since high school days, and him falling for you; his wife, is something Mei Mei won't allow.
......
“How long have you been teaching here? I haven't seen you around” he asked.
“Um– today is my first day actually” you replied with a hint of awkwardness.
“Oh I see!! good luck then I'm sure you'll do great” he encouraged,
“T-thank you” you stammered ,pleasantly surprised, a warm genuine smile graced your face.
Nanami is indeed respectful and considerate quite the opposite of some other dick that you're stuck with.
“Excuse me for my random question, but what Jujutsu technique do you possess?” he questioned completely oblivious of your situation.
You swallowed with difficulty, rocking your legs under the table in embarrassment. But why would you hide who you really are?
“I–I don't have any Jujutsu energy my situation is kind of complicated so...” you replied,
trying your best to hide your discomfort from his sudden question, especially knowing that your husband is sitting at the table next you and any vulnerability will cost you your dignity and pride.
“Oh I understand! but I'm sure you're skilled with weapon use. It doesn't matter if you have a curse energy or not what matters is the braveness you carry within you” he said and smiled,
he smiled for the very first time in years taking both Gojo and Mei Mei by surprise.
“Nanami smiling? if I knew he had such an attractive smile he would have been one of my preys” thought Mei Mei to herself.
The tables turned, and now it's Gojo's turn to sit and watch your cute interaction with his colleague. Having known Nanami for years, Gojo was already familiar with the way he treats women with ultimate politeness but in Gojo's eyes you weren't deservant of such treatment, he hates you and wanted everyone around to do the same, to turn against you until you feel excluded, until you give up on your job and the small circle you've built in two days. His goal is to make you experience once again the sense of isolation you've grown up with, and Nanami encouraging you was the first step to hinder his goals. That's why Nanami shouldn't get close to you.
...
It was the very first time you witnessed someone acknowledging your skills, someone comforting you and understanding that it's okay to not be a sorcerer. His genuine words touched your heart.
Uncertain how to respond a shy smile formed on your lips, his compliment felt like a gentle breeze that lifted up your spirit, making you forget about all the hate you have dealt with for years.
As the school bell chimed, signaling the break's conclusion, you rose to head to your next teaching assignment for the second years.
“It was nice talking to you, Nanami,”you said gently, keeping eye contact, which he acknowledged without breaking.
“Looking forward to our next meeting...after you” he said, stepping aside to let you walk ahead.
....
“Nanamin!!”
“Yeah Gojo what do you want?” Nanami replied with a sigh, irritated, since Gojo used to annoy him a lot before.
“Nothing much... but maybe next time, acknowledge my presence before chatting with her so casually.”
“Huh? she was sitting alone, and you were with Mei Mei. so what's your point? cuz i couldn't get it yet!”
“Listen, Nanamin, don't waste your time with her. She's–”
“Why would you say that? It's not like I'm trying to steal your wife or something!” Nanami interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
“I'd appreciate it if you don't talk to her again”
“She's a mature woman with free will. You don't get to decide who she talks to.. Excuse me now” Nanami asserted, and the walked away.
– Time Skip Night Time –
“Aah, what a day” you sighed, yawning as you began drying off, still wrapped in your towel.
The warm bath washed away the fatigue from a long day of teaching. Smiling at the memory of Nanami's words, recollecting his warm smile. Suddenly interrupted by a voice.
“I see you're happy?” came a voice that caught you off guard, disrupting your thoughts.
“Satoru? What are you doing here?”
“This is my house, or did you forget?”
A blush colored your cheeks as you realized being clad only in a towel that barely covered the length of your thighs, and his focused intense gaze didn't make things any easier.
“Watcha smiling at? don't tell me you're having those lovey-dovey moments where you have a burst of energy, kicking your feet in the air because you developed a crush on someone? is it Nanami?”
“What if it is? are you jealous? I thought you had plans to spend the night with Mei Mei. What brings you here anyway?”
“Oh, you gave yourself away... eavesdropping to my chat earlier?”
“Nah, wasn't really interested in what you said. You were just loud for some reason” you retorted.
“Getting more bratty by each day?” he remarked, taking a step closer as you instinctively took a step back.
“What do you want?” you asked, panic brewing inside, wild thoughts racing through your mind.
“Nothing.. Why do you seem uncomfortable? Is it because I'm getting this close to you? Is it because my fingers are now tracing your skin?” he teased, his fingers leaving a trail of delicate goosebumps on your exposed arm.
“Satoru!” you warned, air hitched in your throat..
“Is it because no one will be able to hear you scream, in this house of thick walls?”
“Satoru get away and- stop it with your g-games” you stuttered as he tarped you between his chest and the wall. He could hear your heart pounding out of your chest.
“What if I dont? what would you do? stop me?” he challenged.
You tried to walk past him, but he was faster, he pushed you on the king sized bed, and crawled on top of you, making you disappear under his giant figure.
“What? I thought you wanted this from the beginning, I thought you wanted me inside of you huh? You wanted to make this marriage real dont you? so why are you fighting it back now?” he said calmly,
He held your hands above your head to stop you from pushing him and hitting his chest.
“SATORU GET OFF OF ME..I DON'T WANT THAT AND YOU KNOW IT”
tears gathered in your eyes, you didn't want your first time to be like this, hell no, it scared the shit out of you, and wanted nothing more than breaking free from his grasp.
“Are you crying now babygirl? I thought you were braver than this..”
“IM NOT CRYING...GET OFF OF ME NOW” you yelled and used your legs to push him away.
Suddenly, he paused and then started laughing hysterically,
“Y-you should have *laugh* seen the scared look on your face...that was hilarious” he continued on laughing,
and you were sat on the bed, fixing your towel looking at him in utter confusion. “w-what the hell?” you whispered.
He paused inhaling, “See how weak you are, unable to protect yourself..” he started, looking at you with dismissive glance.
”I.am.not.weak.”
“I could have broke you if I wanted to, I'm just not interested in fucking a nobody like you..” he spitted each word was thrown at you like daggers.
You swallowed your pain, choking on the tears that you've never allowed to stream.
“You won't.. and I'm not interested in even looking at some arrogant, power digger, empty shell of man like you” you fought back
“Empty shell of a man” echoed in his ears, the thing that he's always avoided, his emptiness, the void that he thought he covered with his strength, you cracked it. How did you even know?
“Why are you silent now Satoru? did I strike a sensitive nerve?”
“I am the strongest, meaningless words coming from a meaningless person won't affect me” he replied, eyes piercing through you..
“Enough with the strongest!! is it your only resort to defend yourself? to prove yourself? You're not special Gojo Satoru, people out there are also worth it, are also strong and talented , you're not better than them not better than anyone, yo–”
“In all the heavens and the earth, I Alone Am the honoured one..do you understand?” he spoke slowly yet with harsh tone..
a tone that sent shivers down your spine. You looked at him silently, his face inches away from yours, looking into each others eyes, his blue eyes; an ocean, a canva of hidden struggles.
If looks could kill, you'd be already sent to heaven.
“Do.You.Understand?” he repeated.
But all what you could do is stare,
“Say.It” he yelled
“no” you started “...in all heavens and the earth, I alone the one you can't control, Satoru” you added twisting his words, and used them against him.
.....
Satoru let out a short, mirthless laugh, the flicker of offense evident in his blue eyes poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue– but it's Gojo Satoru, he would never give you the satisfaction of actually breaking his ego, so what else he could do except flipping the topics.
“From now on I'll be sleeping here. Couch or the other room, your call, but this is my bed” he declared, breaking the silence after thinking he would really break you, from how intense the atmosphere was.
“If I were you, I'd find another spot. But if you stick here, you better sleep with one eye open” he added warning, taking off his shirt to reveal his toned back.
You swiftly gathered your belongings, exiting the room as he began unbuckling his belt.
.....
Sitting in the next room, knees to your chest, tears flowed silently. making sure the door was locked, you couldn't deny he had given you a scare. It was his plan all along, to frighten you, to make you feel vulnerable, proving he could easily assert dominance.
“I hate this. I hate you, Satoru.”
Taglist ✨:
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@shervinss
@twitabread
@f1uveryysblog @sleepyyammy @allofffmypeaches @myloveforharrystylesneverenough
@olivianyx @inlovewithlondonn @wisepotato404 @butterskyy
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen masterlist#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo smut#gojo satoru headcanons#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo oneshot#gojo imagine#gojo satoru one shot#gojo satoru x reader#satoru smut#gojo satoru#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk headcanons#jjk men#jjk x oc#gojo headcanons#gojo x oc#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you
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I'm gonna say something controversial so let me preface this by saying that Buck is the love of my life and if he were a real person, I'd die for him in a heartbeat and whatever point I'm trying to make, this obviously doesn't apply to everyone so bear with me. This is about a few people who unfortunately are very vocal in the fandom.
Now, what I wanna say is that nobody hates Eddie Diaz more than *Buck only* fans. As in the people who love Buck and only Buck. Which is obviously their right, everyone has a favourite character, it's not a moral failing to like or dislike characters, what bothers me is when they try to minimize the other characters' arcs, and character traits and storylines, or try to use disingenous arguments to justify their love for their fav. For example, the amount of Buck fans who act like Eddie purposely traumatized Christopher, or that his affair was a product of the lust he had for Shannon, it's infuriating. Apparently Buck has been a better parental figure to the kid than Eddie, and some of them even want him to lose his son's custody, so that the kid can be raised by Buck and you know who, meanwhile Buck kissing Lucy while he was with Taylor is somehow the fault of those two women. Buck can maim Eddie and then use the incident to flirt with a guy, while Eddie calling Buck exhausting when he was going through a LOT will be held against him till this day.
In short, Buck can do no wrong, and Eddie will be criticized for pretty much the same things Buck has done. Canonically, they're both the same age, and yet Buck is the babygirl of the fandom and Eddie the grumpy and angry oldman. I can keep going but I don't wanna make this post a word salad. But I'll say that everything about the fandom's treatment of Buck and Eddie has gotten much worse since 7x04.
Even in the shipping discourse, a lot of BTs used to be Buddies, and they jumped ship after one kiss, which is their prerogative, but when they turn around and act like all the romantic subtext around Buddie is not real and that they're brothers, or that Eddie the devil doesn't deserve an angel like Buck, it makes you think that they always cared about one character only and the fact that a lot of people (particularly, lgbt folks who are religious/PoC raised in conservative cultures) identify with Eddie doesn't matter to them.
All of this is funny bc Buck would absolutely hate these guys for being so obtuse about his best friend and yet. But whatever, the general audiences love Eddie and they love Buck and Eddie together. And even if they were to remain platonic forever, they'll be each other's favourite person forever and they along with Christopher are a family.
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Reylo Scenes: TLJ
Rian Johnson gets loud vocal dislike for trying to make part 2 to JJ Adams film and his treatment of Luke Skywalker. Now I'm going to be honest..... Star Wars fans complain. That's part of the passion of it all. I guess. One area that he did succeed in was Reylo. He dealt with it with complete mastery. His invention of the forceskype or forcetime which allowed the protagonist and antagonist to actually talk was genius.
To add, I read the novelization which does expand on the story overall and it's great to read. There are comics as well. All which expand on the story.
Rian Johnson also is due a thank you for this moment.
We'll call this no-more-daddies-Ren. That face should not be covered up.
Romance has always been apart of Star Wars. Yet, in the sequel trilogy there was this hyper paranoia of anything feminine and so anyone who sensed a romance happening I guess was just an unhealthy fool.
From a pure storytelling stand point, the dynamic between the hero and the villain is genuinely interesting. The fact that they are Ying Yang, alike but different, bonded yet on opposing sides and they attracted to one another only adds to the drama. It's the richest dynamic of the sequel trilogy.
So to all the Reylo haters
In the first forcetime scene the rules of the forcetime get established. Rey can't hurt him physically (yet) and Ren can't jedi mind trick her.
The production team continued to show their balance yet opposition. When Rey wakes up the warm sunlight is on her face and her smooth cheek. In Ren's scene the light on his cheek is mechanical and the skin is scarred. Rey is surrounded by nature. Ren is surrounded by technology. They both have a childlike innocence to them. Something is happening to them that had never happened before. Something unique even amongst force users. Ren is curious. Rey is just pissed off.
Ren is a man who feels very let down/betrayed by everyone in his life so by the time we meet him in The Force Awakens he doesn't want or need anybody. Within his comic Ben Solo is described as someone that everyone, including his peers, watched for signs of darkness. He's a bitter, hurt and jaded young man.
Rey is the denial queen. She has a childlike way of thinking that is purely optimistic. She latches onto people very quickly Finn, Han Solo, Chewie, Leia, Luke on and on. She understand the stories of the resistance, Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, but doesn't understand any of the complexities. She's a very 'this is the truth as I know it so it must be the truth' kind of person.
When we arrive at the second Forcetime.
Rey overlooking the ocean. Ren overlooking the first order. Ren begins hearing the ocean waves. Rey begins to hear the snap of electricity. Ren sensing her turns and Rey, sensing him, adjusts and there they are.
Rey, understand that she can't physically act out her anger against, verbalizes it. She's angry, but she wants the anger to be simple and it's not. He is tied to her in a way in some way.
What's interesting is Ren is very open to her in wondering why the force is connecting them. In the book Rey describes his eyes as hungry. Also, Ren wants to be understood by her. He uses this moment to reach her and get someone to understand a portion of how he became the man he is. The audience sees him approach her, get into her space, challenging her emotionally, physically and her ideas about him.
"ah, you do" if it's possible to verbally create a orgasm....Adam driver accomplished it for women. It doesn't hurt that these two seem to always be eye fucking each other. The intensity in which they lock onto each other and don't pay much around them any mind. The actors writers dream of.
The scenes serves a purpose though. Kylo is once again shift from simple bad guy to complicated bad guy/human being. She doesn't know everything. In the mix of all of this is her experience with Luke. She disillusioned and she's disappointed with Luke. Her experience is shifting her to understand Kylo's position more.
Which leads to their third forceskype aka shirtless Ben
Rey, girl, you're not asexual. It's the first where we see she does have a reaction to him physically. She opens herself to understanding. She wants to know if he had a good reason for killing his father. She also expresses her jealousy of him. He has a family, he had a father who loved him. She would give anything for that. Kylo is also expressing his pain and how relates to her. They both feel abandoned by their parents. Kylo wasn't abandoned in the way Rey was, but he feels abandoned. Kylo looks at Rey like 'hey you don't see the similarities between us?". You also being to understand Kylo Ren's need to embrace the dark side because everyone on the light side failed him.
Part of her journey in The Last Jedi is about embracing her womanhood. After the force bond with the shirtless Kylo Ren. She goes to the dark sided vagina cave. She jumps in and when she emerges her childhood hair buns are gone. Rey enters in this vision and looks for answers as to who/where her parents are. Nothing is revealed to her. She didn't find the answers she was looking for and the hope that she will find them goes out of her. In this moment she's desperately lonely. Here our hero spiritually seeks out through the force bond the one individual she feels will relate to her, our villain.
Why do people call this scene "The Finger Touch Love Scene"
Cause the level of intimacy these characters reach without many words and without being lewd. Rian Johnson, bravo!
The way Kylo Ren is just present, reassuring and nurturing as Rey relays her trip into the dark cave. This is a moment where he could stoke her negative emotions to the dark side. He doesn't though. He's completely emotionally present for her. Kylo Ren sits within his ship in a area that's lit with a soft blue light as he reaches towards her he's in the warm of the firelight. Now he is physically present for her.
Rey is completely raw. She's allowing herself to be seen emotionally naked. This is the first scene where she gives him something with free will. She gives him union.
She reaches out from underneath the blanket. He takes his glove off and they slowly, innocently, reach for each other. The eye contact they maintain as the force theme begins, we as the audience understand something profound is happening. Within them, in this moment, there is a balance in the force.
They both have a vision of one another. Ren sees her past. Rey sees a glimpse of his future. This is the moment for Reylo, they both said to themselves "we're never letting this go". Rian Johnson confirmed it's from this moment that Ren decides to kill Snoke because that's the only way to protect Rey from him. Rey shift her belief system to complete Team Ben. She doesn't have a plan when she goes to meet Ben within the First Order. She just has complete faith in him that when the moment matters he'll stand by her.
We arrive at the elevator scene and just prior when she arrive onboard the supreme in a coffin from the Falcon that has his calligraphy on it. It's their first interaction after that intense force bond.
She expresses her faith in him and the possibility of a future. This is the first scene where she walks up on him. She wants that closeness and connection now. He's closed off we come to understand later, he's become he's protecting his mind from Snoke understanding his true intentions. They both express what they saw in their vision and conviction that one will join the other. It's canon that in this moment Kylo Ren wanted to kiss Rey.
Snoke - It's not his story. Kylo Ren looked like a badass killing him. That's all we needed you for boo. However, I did enjoy the internal dialogue of Snoke that the novelization affords. Through the force Snoke can feel Kylo Ren's need for approval which is something that frustrates him. He can feel his conflicted nature for Rey and for the light. He can feel his pain and confusion when Snoke says he bridged their minds (he didn't). That was enlightening.
My favorite moment is right after Kylo kills Snoke and Rey and Kylo looks at each like
"You with me?"
"Yeah, I'm with you"
And they turn to face the pretorian guards. They are with each other, but they do have a misunderstanding on what that means.
The fight scene is great and beautiful. Kylo Ren is a supportive partner to her and she to him. Kylo support her body with his and he takes on the majority of the Pretorian guards. He has a moment when he checks in on her, she get's hurt, he's upset and scared but then centers himself. When he's in trouble she supports him. It's described in the novel that they can feel each other's emotions through the force.
(Couldn't find the gif of her getting cut)
#star wars#ben solo#reylo#finnrey#rey skywalker#rey star wars#kylo ren#kylo x rey#ben solo deserved better#ben solo x rey#ben solo lives#rey
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VIP Treatment
Description: Morgan ends up on a date with it's boss's son without realizing it. Written for JanAUary prompt #10 - sugar baby Ships: Morgan x Koito Warnings: Suggestive scenes Dividers
Basil sat the tray down on the counter with an awful clatter of glasses and an angry huff. Inkarmat looked up from what she was doing behind the bar to meet his gaze.
"What's bothering you, Basil?" She asked.
"If you haven't noticed, I'm the ONLY server out there." He gestured out toward the cabana full of rich vacationers, sipping their tropical drinks and enjoying the freedom of being a guest at the resort, rather than an employee as Basil was forced to be.
Inkarmat sighed sadly, "Oh, that's right. Morgan was supposed to be here, wasn't it? Do you think it's okay?"
Basil rolled his eyes and sat down at the bar, "I'm not worried about Morgan, Inkarmat. It got invited to a party last night, so it's probably just hungover and decided not to come in."
"Have you tried to call it?"
"It didn't answer."
"I could try-"
Inkarmat's voice was interrupted by a loud shout from across the cabana, Basil looked up at the sound of the familiar voice.
"Speak of the devil."
Morgan sauntered over to the bar in a bikini top, cutoff jean shorts, and heart shaped sunglasses resting on top of its head, "Gooooood morning!"
"Morning?! It's 1PM, Morgan! And what the fuck are you doing?! You bailed on work this morning and then have the fucking nerve to show up here dressed like THAT?!" Basil snapped.
"Hey, take it easy, Basil! I brought something for you two." Morgan held up two envelopes and passed one to Basil and one to Inkarmat.
"What the hell is this?" He groaned.
Morgan clicked its tongue behind its teeth, "Just open it, B."
Inkarmat gasped as she and Basil ripped open their envelopes, "Morgan, is this a lifetime VIP card?!"
Basil looked up at Morgan with wide eyes, "Holy shit dude, how did you even get these?!"
Morgan grinned and slid onto one of the bar stools, "You won't believe me if I tell you."
"Maybe not," Basil shrugged, "But tell me anyway."
"You know the guy who owns this place?" Morgan began.
"Mr. Heiji Koito?" Inkarmat questioned.
Basil's face scrunched up in disgust, "Oh, don't tell me you fucked that weird old man."
"Ew, no!" Morgan cried, putting its hand to its chest as if it were offended by the suggestion, "I fucked his son."
"Ooooh," Inkarmat leaned on the counter, "He's a little cutie, good job, Morgan."
"But how'd you even MEET him?" Basil asked.
"Oh, it's a long story… but you've got VIP cards now so you have time to ignore the customers for this," Morgan laughed.
Inkarmat and Basil made themselves comfortable as Morgan began to detail its escapades from the previous night and how that had led to it meeting Otonoshin Koito. The story was honestly ridiculous, but Morgan did have a knack for finding itself in odd situations, and it seemed to have done that again, but for once it had actually turned out well.
The story began when Morgan had got off work the previous night and headed directly for the party it had been invited to by it's cousin, Shiraishi and his friend, Sugimoto. The party had started at a high end night club that Shiraishi had found a way to sneak into.
Morgan had spent a majority of the night tipsy and spinning between different men and women on the dance floor. At some point it had wandered up onto a booth table in the corner and, noticing how low to the ground some of them were, gotten the bright idea to try to swing on one of the light decorations that hung from the upper floor. It grabbed hold of it and jumped from the table, and of course, came crashing to the floor almost instantly.
Unfortunately for Morgan, or perhaps very fortunately, it had not actually hit the floor when it fell. Instead, it had fallen right into the lap of a very, very pretty boy. Morgan stood up and began apologizing profusely and helped him off the ground. In the midst of its frantic apologies, it felt a strong grip on its arm. It turned to find a very angry bouncer, he dragged Morgan to the door and tossed it onto the pavement outside.
Morgan shivered against the cold night air as it sat up onto its knees, and that's when it heard someone clearing their throat behind it. There was the pretty boy it had fallen on, offering his hand to help them from the ground. Morgan smiled and took his hand, allowing him to help it to its feet, as it had done for him just a moment ago.
"Are you alright?" He asked.
"A little scuffed up, but fine," Morgan nodded, "But hey, I should be asking YOU that! I literally crash landed on you, dude!"
He laughed and shook his head, "Don't worry about it, I'm fine."
Morgan sighed, "Well, thank you for checking on me, I guess. I'll be okay, you should go back and enjoy your night."
"How could I enjoy my night in there when they've taken the most beautiful person I've ever seen and kicked them out?"
Oh, he was a charmer. Morgan blushed and twirled its hair around its finger, "Aww, thank you. You're pretty cute yourself, ya know."
"Would you… like to go somewhere a bit more peaceful?" He held his hand out to Morgan.
It wasn't sure it was the best idea to go off with this person it had just met, but well, it had clearly never been the best decision maker. It gently sat its hand in his and let him lead the way.
"Oh, uhm- my name's Morgan, by the way." It spoke up.
"That's a lovely name. You can call me Koito." Koito… the name sounded familiar, but at the time, Morgan couldn't place where it had heard it before.
Koito led Morgan to the beach, it wasn't all that far of a walk from the club. This time of night, it was basically deserted, everyone most likely either partying in the clubs or having scuttled back to their hotel rooms. He was right about this place being more peaceful, the sound of the waves crashing against the beach soothed Morgan's soul. It smiled softly. The ocean was such a wonderful thing.
"I like to come here at night to clear my mind." Koito commented.
"Well, it very calming… I've always liked the ocean a lot." Morgan sighed.
"Is that what brings you to this island?" Koito asked.
"Oh, uh. Not really." Morgan scratched at its cheek and frowned, "I got a job here and it came with an offer for cheap housing."
As obnoxious as the clientele of the resort may have been, Morgan kept the job because it was allowed to live in a small suite in the hotel for fairly cheap, all things considered. Sure, it wasn't one of the luxury suites, but it was still nicer than its apartment on the mainland had been, so it couldn't begrudge it.
"Oh, I see, so you live here. Not many people I've met actually live on this island." Koito commented.
"Yeah, without my offer, it would definitely be too expensive for me to live here either," Morgan laughed, "You're here on vacation?"
Koito shook his head, "On business."
"Hehe, oh you were doing business in that night club, Mr. Business boy?" Morgan teased and leaned its head on his shoulder.
He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, I'm allowed a little break, aren't I?"
"Of course you are, cutie." Morgan nuzzled its cheek against his arm.
As Morgan told it, it would spend several more hours with Koito, it sounded absolutely love struck as it talked about the events of the night. The two walked on the beach together and talked about a number of things, he took Morgan to a nice restaurant and treated it to a late night meal, and at the end of the night, they returned to the hotel together. Morgan rode the elevator up with Koito to his room, which was on the very top floor of the building, a penthouse suite.
"Ooooh, fancy schmancy." Morgan giggled.
As they approached the door, it noticed that there was a gold plaque in the middle with his name- Otonoshin Koito- engraved into it. The room was marked with his name, he clearly had a LOT of money, he was "here on business" That was when Morgan finally started piecing together who exactly it was that it had spent the last several hours with.
Koito smiled and looked away, "Would you… like to see the inside of the room?"
Morgan grinned and threw its arms around his shoulders, "Ooooh, you're inviting me into your room? You really like me, huh?"
He backed up against the door, a goofy smile spreading across his face, "W-well… yes! I… I think I do!"
Morgan laughed and kissed his cheek, "Well, lucky for you I really like you too. I'd love to see your room."
His breath hitched and he fumbled around for the door knob behind him. When he finally found it, opening it sent him tumbling to the ground, Morgan coming down on top of him. Morgan smirked and kicked the door shut behind them.
"I'm starting to think you like having me on top of you."
The poor boy practically had steam coming from his ears at Morgan's comment. It leaned over his and attacked his face and neck with kisses. Well, if that's what he wanted, Morgan was more than willing to let him have it.
Basil sat in shock as Morgan finished up its story. He stopped Morgan as it started to get a bit too detailed about what had happened in the room, "You've gotta be shitting me."
"See, I knew you wouldn't believe me!" Morgan pouted.
"I believe you, Morgan." Inkarmat replied with a smile.
"Thank you, Inkarmat," Morgan turned back to Basil, pulling it's phone out of its handbag, "Here, I've got pictures of me with him."
Morgan brought up its gallery, flipping through photo after photo of itself with Koito as Inkarmat and Basil leaned over the phone to see. It had looked away, watching their reactions, but turned back to the phone when Basil jerked back in disgust. It immediately shut the screen off when it saw what photo it had flipped to.
"Uhm, don't look at that one." It smiled awkwardly and stashed its phone back into its bag.
"Well, I guess I can't argue with that, that's pretty solid. " Basil conceded.
"I can make it even more solid!" Morgan cried, "I told him about you guys! He wants to meet you!"
"Oh, when?" Inkarmat asked.
"Tonight! Meet us at the restaurant on the 9th floor at 6!"
Basil sighed, "Pretty short notice, but I guess I'll be there."
"Count on me to be there too!" Inkarmat cheered.
"Great! Well, I gotta bounce, but I'll see you guys tonight," Morgan stood up with a flourish and a bow, "And if it wasn't obvious, I'm not working here anymore. Laterrrssss!"
Morgan blew a kiss at its friends before turning around and walking back through the cabana. Basil watched as it stopped and took a drink from someone's table and made off with it towards a fancy looking car that was parked on the street. He groaned and slammed his head against the counter top as the customer from that table came to the bar yelling and complaining. He thought about taking advantage of Morgan's gift and walking out himself and maybe catching up with Morgan, but he didn't want to leave Inkarmat to handle this alone, so he resigned to calming down the customer. He had a feeling tonight might be his last night here though, and he could tell by the look on Inkarmat's face that she was likely to follow suit.
#selfshipper#self shipping#self insert oc#self ship#self inserts#self ship fic#self shipper#self ship community#mollys writing#rom; 🎏 koi boi#ship; lay all your love on me#qpr; 🧪 basil#pl; 🦊 fox lady#s/i; morgan kneynsberg#falling.into.janauary
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It´s been a long, long time
Chapter 15
The two days without Bucky passed in a blur; I barely ate or left the bed. When it was time to go to Camp Lehigh, I met up with Steve and took a cab to New Jersey. A woman in uniform, who introduced herself as "Agent Carter," led us to a small office where she told us to wait for someone named "General Phillips." Steve nervously tapped his foot, and I fidgeted in my seat, unsure of what to expect. Dr. Erskine hadn't told us much, only that he could help us do our part. After five minutes, the door opened, and a grumpy-looking older man sat down opposite us, carrying two files—Steve's and mine, I assumed.
He looked at one of the files, read "Steve Rogers" aloud, and settled his gaze on Steve. "That's you, I presume... I don't know what Dr. Erskine sees in you, but I've been told to inform you that you are now officially part of the US Army. But let me tell you, even if you look like the smallest wind could blow you away, you will need to go through the same training as everybody else. Don't expect any special treatment just because you are Dr. Erskine's protégé," he said gruffly. Steve didn't look intimidated; quite the opposite, he sat up straight and said, "Yes, sir."
The general switched files and looked me up and down. "There isn't much information here about you... I've been told you're our new nurse in this camp. I don't know why Dr. Erskine specifically requested you, but that's above my pay grade, I guess." Unsure how to respond, I asked, "So Dr. Erskine hasn't told you what we can expect here?" He didn't seem to like my question. "This is an army camp, not a knitting circle. We're preparing for war, lady. What do you think we're doing?" He slammed the file on the table and told us to wait outside, not explaining why.
This felt like a rough start to a journey whose destination I didn't know. Steve and I waited outside, unsure of what to do. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve watching Agent Carter. She seemed stern and capable, yet feminine in her own way. Steve was smitten; he couldn't take his eyes off her. "She's pretty, isn't she?" I poked him in the ribs and smiled. Steve started coughing. "What? No... I mean yes, but it's not like that... I would never..." I patted him on the back. "It's alright, Steve. You're right, she is very pretty." That just made him blush even more.
After a few minutes, a young private approached us with two uniforms in hand—a standard army uniform for Steve and a nurse uniform for me. "Rogers, you join Agent Carter over there. And you, ma'am, come with me. I'll show you the infirmary," he said, motioning for me to follow him.
I waved to Steve and followed the young soldier to my new workplace. It was bigger than I had expected, a large hall full of cots with a desk in the corner holding all the supplies I would need. All the beds were empty for now; I hoped it would stay that way. The private left, so I stood around, unsure of what to do. I walked closer to the window and saw Steve standing in a row with the other soldiers. He was already wearing his uniform, which looked good on him, even though he was shorter and skinnier than the other guys. Agent Carter looked angry as she approached one of the men and promptly punched him in the face. I was flabbergasted; where I came from, women were told to be meek and elegant. Not that she wasn't elegant, but she definitely wasn't meek—she was strong and confident. I was impressed.
Suddenly, I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I flinched and turned around, not expecting anyone. It was Dr. Erskine. "Excuse me, ma'am, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, sitting down on one of the beds. "It's alright, I'm easy to scare," I replied, sitting down opposite him. He flipped through what looked like my file and settled on a page with a photo of me. "So, miss... why are you here? Considering you are easy to scare, I'm not sure if this is the right environment for you," he asked. "I just want to help, sir," I answered, nervous that they might send me back home. He didn't seem convinced. "You could have helped the war effort by working in the factories like all the other women. So, I'm asking you again, why are you here?" I saw no point in lying. "My best friends are here—Steve Rogers, as you know, and Sergeant James Barnes, who is already on the front lines. I couldn't stay behind, and it seemed like this could be my opportunity, although I'm still not sure what your offer is exactly," I explained.
He listened attentively, slowly nodding. "So, loyalty above all? Is that what drives you?" he asked. "Yes, sir. I would do anything for my friends," I stated. He closed my file. "Interesting," he remarked as he got up. I stood up with him. He left me with more questions than answers.
The following two weeks were spent attending to scratches, mostly Steve's. He told me he was trying hard, but some of the other soldiers were hazing him. I reminded him why he was doing this and that it would pay off in the end. Occasionally, other soldiers would come in, some of them flirting with me—a new experience for me. Usually, other guys ignored me; I wondered if Bucky being around me most of the time had deterred them.
One day, Steve visited me in the infirmary, and I got my utensils ready, but looking at him, I couldn't find anything to treat. He was beaming with joy, a welcome sight after all the times he had come in with a sullen expression. He told me about the march he had to go through but was allowed to ride back in the truck with Agent Carter. I was happy for him, but there was a nagging feeling I couldn't define, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.
Next Chapter
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Biggest unpopular anime opinion in general?
Doesn't matter the genre, some people don't care for female characters and project their misogynistic thoughts onto mangakas.
Not I'm not saying that mangakas can't be misogynistic, but when people claim so their reasons prove that maybe the mangaka isn't the only misogynistic one.
"We need more complex female characters."
They can't even handle the ones that do exist, let alone female characters overall.
There are folks who will straight up say Mei Mei should die and she's a bitch, but they drool for male characters who are just as bad as her, or even worse.
Jumping off that, if a male character can get hate for something bad he did, why is it okay for when a female character does it?
Like, folks, it's okay to judge that character when their actions are messed up, gender be damned. If they're wrong, they're wrong.
(Thinking about when someone commented on my post about how when Jiro insults Kaminari it's consensual... yeah, making fun of him when he's vulnerable after using his Quirk is totally fine... okay...)
"Clearly made for fanservice." And male characters aren't either? People have complained about what Midnight and Miruko wore, yet don't bat a lash that most of the male characters have tight clothing or showing some skin. So only the female body is capable of sex appeal? And it angers you? So you should also be angry that some of the male characters are obvious fanservice, too, right?
Because if not, it just seems like women can't be sexy and she must cover up and on top of that, it's okay for the men.
"She has bad writing."
And she'll just be a side character. She doesn't have bad writing. She's just not part of the main cast so of course she won't have a lot to her. Male characters also get that same treatment, but I don't see you saying it's bad writing.
There are folks who are fans of male characters with bad writing and yet when the female characters have a more prominent role in the story, she doesn't get the same praise even when her story is relatively better.
Hell, most of the time nowadays, I'm more interested in the female characters than I am for the male characters because it's like "I want to know more about her" or she just is cooler to me.
Like, I know I'm going to make someone mad when I say this, but Maki isn't a copy of Toji.
Toji is a copy of her.
She came first in the story and I honestly feel like he was just meant to be a visual example of what Maki could do later in the story once she reaches her full potential.
She is also not "mommy". Maki is indeed gorgeous, she is pretty, but she is also 16-17 years old with no kids.
Oh, and pervert characters. People will hate a female character for being some kind of pervert and be uncomfortable, which yes I reckon you should be.
But then there will be "jokes" and some people will find it funny for the male characters. Like, I'm sorry there are old men in anime that are perverts that instantly lose cool points with me no matter how awesome their skills or whatever are. They don't get much flank for being so.
But let a female character force herself on a male character. "She's disgusting." Well, yeah, I would think you wouldn't be okay with that behavior! However, where's that energy for the guy who just stole a girl's panties or felt on her breast? Oh, it's funny? Alright, okay.
Just saying, even when in anime or manga does a female character wrong, the fandom does her even worse.
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Re-read Parsifal's Page recently, and a few fun things that stood out to me this time:
Piers was elven at the start of the book. Eleven. And his parents just. Sent him off! With a knight they'd just met! Like Trebuchet. Sir. I understand that he's on The Quest or whatever, but that is a baby.
Parsifal picking Kai up by the scruff of his neck as if he's an angry kitten. Somehow I always forget that this happens and yet it always cracks me up.
I love Piers but watching Parsifal have his sweet inquisitive nature sucked out of him hurts and it's an absolute crime that Piers instigated this.
The scene where Piers gets an axe for Parsifal and mocks the smith's work is ten times funnier when we remember how young he is. Middle aged man who has been at the forge all his life just got roasted and shown up by a child who probably barely comes up to his elbow. Classic.
Parsifal telling Piers, "I wouldn't have thought it of you," after Piers admits to having seen a faery. Like okay I get it but you didn't have to roast him like that.
Piers thinking that the faeries surrounding him and trying to entice him away only for his father to chase them off was a dream. He's probably been surrounded by magical craziness all his life and just. Pretends it's his imagination. Of course I'm sure it doesn't help that his mother's solution to him being sick as a child was apparently to get him blackout drunk. But I digress.
Connie trying to be a girl boss only to be immediately shut down because she is surrounded by people who have known her since the day she was born and remember her teenage horse girl phase.
On the topic of horses, Parsifal's deserves a raise. This man learned how to fight and how to talk polite but certainly not how to be nice to a horse and it shows. It's a wonder he hasn't killed the poor thing.
The fact that if Parsifal had found the castle before becoming a knight who wanted to do great deeds he would have been exactly the sort of person who would ask the question but he never would have found the castle if he didn't want to do great deeds but the country boy who lived in the woods was more likely to ask questions than the knight but the country boy wouldn't have found- you get the idea. Thinking about this cycle absolutely kills me.
Rumor has it that if you listen hard while reading the scene where Arthur forgets Parsifal's name and starts listing other versions of the name as he tries to remember, you can hear Gerald Morris chuckling to himself.
There are few things funnier than Piers going, "I'm going to learn how to be a good servant by watching Sir Gawain's squire," only to have Terence give Gawain the silent treatment, proceed to insult him nine ways to Sunday, then relax and smile and chat like nothing happened after Gawain gets a chance to explain.
Half of Malchance's army turning on him because one of Terence's old friends was there.
Piers being equally capable of identifying ladies in waiting by their clothing as he is at identifying good steel. We focus on how he's secretly like his dad, but it's also not just the speaking french that makes him like his mother. This boy is a mix of both his parents, and not always in the way he thinks.
I never realized how absolutely heartbreaking the scene with the lady who tries to seduce Gawain is. Like, it's funny on the first read, but someone being driven mad because they couldn't cope with their father's grief is so horrifying, actually.
Gawain just knowing that Terence needs to stay with Trevisant without any discussion needed.
Guingalet launching a horse thief 8ft in the air.
Literal children Piers and Ariel not understanding why on earth a man would want to get into a castle full of women.
The absolute wildness of Kai to just. Straight up propose as soon as he discovers that the woman he's in love with isn't in love with someone else. Good on him, honestly. He knew what he wanted and went for it. (Also the way their marriage proposal/acceptance sounds like a challenge is so cute, actually. Like, yes, you lay out those terms of agreement for this life long commitment. It's adorable.)
The absolute weight of Parsifal not trusting magic anymore after the paths he's wandered. The absolute gut wrenching scene that is Piers trying to cry as quietly as possible after Parsifal rejected his gift. I just. Ow. So much ow.
Loved that Connie didn't immediately run to Parsifal with open arms. They had a discussion. His leaving hurt her. But they forgave and made it better. Almost as good as the practical Kai/Connoire marriage proposal.
Trebuchet recognizing a suit of armor he made before even recognizing his own son. The most renowned armorer in faery land, ladies and gentlemen. He has one special interest and we love him for that.
Just the whole message of the book. Things that are given are better than things that are earned, better to be a great husband/blacksmith/woodcutter than to have your praises sung by strangers, ask questions rather than trying to look smart, etc... it all feeds into a general theme of humility that is so poignant and so beautiful, and also reflects one of the running themes of the entire series. That's why I love this book, and this series in general. They're comedic, but they also resonate so deeply that you could think about it for hours.
#gerald morris#squire's tales#terence#gawain#piers#parsifal#Parsifal's Page#ariel#queen connie#kai#connoire#kai x connoire
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Unshakable Faith (2023)
Episode 14 Breakdown
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Ji Danyang is rushed to sugery and the police team wait worriedly outside. The Police Department Chief suspends both Officers Hongmei and Ding, pending investigation. Nurse Bai is interviewed and asked what happened and if anyone else knew of their plan to go up the mountain. She admits that she was delayed so didn't meet them as planned and only made it to the mountain in time to see him fall. She advises that the nurses station heard the phonecall but doesn't say anything about her father or the woodcutter who saw him there.
The police team search the mountain for clues, and the experts are given the bag of rutile stones that Ji Danyang had collected and bemoan the situation.
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Dr Bai shows up at the factory because Nurse Bai hasn't come home, angry that she is being treated suspiciously. Police Captain Chen allows her to leave as she saved Ji Danyang and has cooperated with everything they've asked of her. Back at home, Nurse Bai confronts her father and admits to him that the wood cutter told her he was seen, but she withheld that information from the police because she didn't want to risk him being implicated.
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The next morning Nurse Bai asks her father if he would treat Ji Danyang like he did Zhang A Shui but Dr Bai is reluctant, using the excuse that if his treatment didn't work then they would be blamed for his death.
Police Captain Chen takes pity on Officer Hongmei and even though suspended, he assigns her to watch over Ji Danyang. Nurse Bai is not so fortunate, despite Nurse Leader Ge speaking up for her, the factory chief will only let Nurse Bai work in the general hospital area but not the ward where Ji Danyang is. The expert leader, factory chief and head surgeon discuss his prognosis, and worry that the travel to any bigger city's hospital would be too risky. Officer Hongmei tends to Ji Danyang, promising him that she won't be combative if he will just wake up.
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Nurse Bai's involvement with Ji Danyang, the investigation and her subsequent restrictions are gossiped about by the other nurses. Officer Hongmei visits Nurse Bai and they each blame themselves for not protecting Ji Danyang and for taking him up the mountain at all. Officer Hongmei asks Nurse Bai for her father's help, and visits Dr Bai herself to beg for his assistance. Truck driver Lai Guangrun watches on as Dr Bai refuses her too.
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At home Nurse Bai studies for any possible cure, and refuses to stop being friends with Ji Danyang when Dr Bai tells her to. Even after being told that if Ji Danyang doesn't wake up in the next 2 days he will be crippled for life, Dr Bai continues to refuse to help, but is feeling the toll of all of the requests.
.........................................................
This episode is ALL the crying and ALL the begging. Our math man is in a bad way and everyone is hit hard by it. But as my dad always said "if the show is on again next week, then he'll live."
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Dr Bai is such a great character in this and his conflict is so brilliant to watch! He hurt our math man because he would do anything to keep his daughter safe and now has to refuse his daughter's plea to help.
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The story has set up the parallel of Zhang A Shui and Ji Danyang having similar head injuries, how do you justify agreeing to save the enemy but denying to save the expert when the truth is mixed with treason? When he knows he must be being watched?
He may have nearly killed our beloved math man, but I can't hate him for it. I WILL hate Lai Guangran however, all he knows how to do threaten the women in his cohorts lives. And he's a terrible painter too! (Actually we've only seen one of his paintings, I'm just being spiteful)
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I'm going to vent a bit about it here then. I'm a bit flustered so hopefully it isn't all over the place. Over my life I've experienced a lot of cruelty, primarily at the hands of white cis women and men. I grew up in a town of 1,000 people and my graduating class was 32. I went to the same school my entire life. The area was predominantly white and I mean that in a "I can count on my fingers and toes the amount of POC I encountered in my life before 18" way. I was also born AFAB. It was very clear from a young age I wasn't "normal". I have preschool paperwork highlighting my very obvious autistic traits (playing alone, organization, and at one point I could see from one quarterly report to the other how I taught myself to mask a behavior the aids noted as an issue, etc). My first "best friend" was a boy from the Ukraine who no one wanted to befriend because everyone assumed his English wasn't good. I can't even tell you how his English was because I don't remember that. I just remember he didn't care that I was a little weird and liked "boy" stuff and wore boys clothes when I could cause he liked "girl" stuff.
The boy and girl stuff mentioned here are literally as simple as Pokemon and Britney Spears. We were bullied by our peers, family, and parents for just being children. The only female friend I had growing up that I chose myself was bullied for being indigenous, looking masculine, (I believe Shoshone/Cherokee but I was 9 and I can't recall now apologies) and liking "boy" stuff. She moved only a few years later. I did not have another female friend until my senior year in high school and big shocker that a few years ago she was diagnosed with autism alongside her son. I knew from age 12-14 roughly that I was trans. I thought I was a transman back then. This was pre-internet btw folks. I had NO IDEA wtf a trans person was or that it was even a real thing. I just felt like I wasn't a girl and I couldn't possibly be a girl, all because of how those around me treated me. I'm not saying every transman is just a traumatized cis woman, but I know for a fact for me and my personal situation, being told I looked like a boy, all the stuff I liked was for boys, just literally everything about me = well that is what boys do, not girls. I genuinely think in my case, that it impacted me psychologically in a way so deep it gave me a lot of mental health issues surrounding gender. I would go through phases of hyper performing femininity and hypersexuality to try and fit in. I developed a huge complex around my self worth and being desirable that still persists to this day. This is the part Twitter was angry about and wouldn't let anyone interact with. I'm now 34 and it's manifested in a new way since quarantine since I didn't have interaction with people outside of close friends for that entire time. I find myself with an intense fear of pretty cis women, particularly white women. It's a genuine uncontrollable fear response where my entire body starts trembling because I can't stand the thought of being perceived by them. I feel so lacking. I don't even fucking identify as a woman anymore either but I can't even describe the dread I feel about being near them. It isn't even their fault either. They can be the nicest in the world to me but societal pressure and the treatment of women, cis and trans alike, has caused me so much harm I'm actually actively searching for a new therapist to help with this issue. TERFS out here literally causing the issues they say are "plaguing women from being women". Like HUH? You're literally reinforcing stereotypes babes!!! The same stereotypes you say are misogynistic! You're the problem!!! I actually have surgery on Monday and I told my husband I'm more afraid at being perceived by the beautiful women in the clinic (it has an attached MedSpa, trust me, they're all flawless goddesses in there) than I am being awake for the actual surgery. I don't doubt I would still come out as trans (rn I identify vaguely as non-binary/transmasc) because I just don't really vibe with the concept of gender as a whole. I would have just probably figured out that those feelings weren't necessarily me wanting to be or actually being a man a lot sooner. My heart just hurts for Imane Khelif because I can't imagine if she legit is just a normal ass cis woman with higher testosterone how it must feel right now to be attacked like that. And if she is intersex, how much she probably faced a lot of similar treatment that I did growing up. At this point I'm just rambling, but it has all made me very very sad and just brought up a lot of trauma from my own life.
#shut up kit#a very long gender rant#surrounding imane khelif#just a lot of anger#sadness and frustration
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What have you done? You did the one thing you swore you'd never do to me, you did. Everything you said you'd never do, you did. You've gotten comfortable taking your anger out on me. I come to you broken hearted. Telling you every single day how much this breakup is killing me. Calling you out on lies only to have you gaslight me into thinking I'm the problem. Only for once I can say it's not me. I'm capable of loving someone so unconditionally and being completely loyal. It wasn't me who ruined us. It was you. You took something so pure and true and destroyed it without a second guess. You want to take it back, it was a moment of weakness. Yet you can't. You'll always be the man who cheated on me. The man who promised me the world and took it all away at the same time. You're a deceptive person. You think you're not but you are. Everything adds up yet you have such a way with wrapping me around your finger and getting me to believe everything you said. I don't believe you anymore. I don't believe IN you anymore. I've lost hope. I no longer want you. I can't want you. In a way you're abusive. You don't see it though. I do. My friends do. Everyone can see through the lies you tell except me. They all warned me about you and I didn't listen. You're not really a nice person. I'm happy you're in therapy because maybe you'll listen to the therapist when they tell you the things you're doing is manipulative, deceptive and cruel. How can you take a look at me and choose to hurt me. You know my past. You still don't care. You still think it's okay to belittle me, manipulate me and yell at me when you get angry. I'm the emotional punching bag you use for sex. No more though. I can't give you that access to me anymore. I gave you my heart. I loved you with every fiber of my being. I gave it my all while you gave me lies and anger. What happened to you? You used to be so great. So good to me. Look at us now. We were gonna have babies. Get married but you traded that for other women. Women who will never give you what I gave you. Women who can't even fathom the level of love I gave to you. Yet you still chose them over me. How? How could I not have been enough for you? What did I ever do to you to deserve the treatment I get from you? It's okay though. We're going our separate ways soon. I want to exchange our things, hug you one last time and then let go. I have to let you go. I love you with all my heart but it's time. It hurts so bad thinking about you no longer in my life. My heart is beating fast just writing this. Please do not deny me closure. If you have any ounce of love left for me you wouldn't do that. You'd help set me free. Please set me free from you. Having you in my life only causes pain. I can't keep crying over you. I can't. I'm tired of laying in bed sobbing relentlessly because I no longer have you. Seeing you adding all these girls on fb and instagram is torture. You'll deny it though. As if my eyes are the ones telling lies instead of you. And I'll believe you. This is why I can't love you anymore. I can't give you access to my life or my body anymore. I'm setting you free Kade. You're free of me. I hope the path you chose to take without me brings you happiness. I know I'll find happiness again too. I'm determined. Without you in my life, without the pictures and social media, you'll fade. I won't remember the good times, I won't remember you. I'll have the stuffies and my memories in my memory box. They'll keep your memory alive. For a while. This is what I need. To forget you. To forget the love we had. The beautiful relationship we had. Gone. Forever. But it's okay. I'll be okay. Eventually.
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Ok so, i see we are viewing the issue of Tranquility from very different points of view. You are seeing as a rights issue only, while i'm not. As a health professional Cassandra's and Solas' attitude is the ethically right one to deal with a treatment who isn't undertood beyond it's capacity to bring harm to the patient (in this case also others, because of the out-of-control magic).
If Cassandra was truly lying about her intentions to spread knowledge of the Cure once it was understood (something that realistically would take longer than the 2 years until Tresspasser) we will only know for certain in Dreadwolf. But i will say that it doesn't make's sense for her characterization to do so. Cassandra's main defining trait is searching and revealing the truth, it's core of every piece of her arc and interactions with other characters.
I don’t really care if it’s in character for her? Characterization in dAI was all over the place anyway. Trying to argue a point by what makes sense is a losing battle with the writing quality in that game, and it’s not what I’m talking about anyway.
From a health perspective, she’s in the wrong. People have a right to know they have options besides dying, and hiding information and conducting tiny studies alone even just intellectually is neither efficient or medically sound, especially considering Cassandra has no personal expertise in tranquility. That’s stupid. It’s also not a exactly health issue. Any more than a lobotomy is. They mind control rip out part of a brain. That’s not cancer bro. Also, it isn’t ‘understood beyond its potential to cause the patient harm.’ That’s ONE HUNDRED % a HYPOTHESIS. It’s not ‘understood’ at all, although the small imperical data that exists would suggest the opposite. Seekers are fine, and that’s the closest we have for comparison. Again, the idea mages cured of tranquility would become a danger to others and themselves is entirely a hypothesis, to begin with. You can’t say withholding life saving treatment for thousands of people based off a bigot’s bigoted belief influenced hypothesis is ‘ethically correct.’
When temporarily cured in DA2, Karl is fairly scared, but calm and rational mostly, certainly not angry or dangerous. Cassandra, an under qualified person not remotely of the minority being affected even, is making herself judge, jury, and executioner, then choosing a hypothesis to work from that’s oppressive to begin with, because of her history of religious indoctrination. I don’t like hate Cass, but she is a complicated character, as people are, and she’s a flawed religious bigot in a lot of areas, and hasn’t fixed many issues with herself. And that’s fucked. Especially considering she is /part of the structure of authority/ that has done this in the first place. It’s like being an assistant for doctors who did lobotomies and finding out ‘Oh wow. We did this to women who just were emotional or foreign, or people other people needed silenced, and it actually totally doesn’t help and is super fucked up. And uh. Actually we can undo this procedure holy shit we could save everyone we hurt’ and then going ‘mmmm but I worry personally that all these people we lobotomized in institutions might lash out if cured, so I, part of the oppressive system that did this to them in the first place, not a medical doctor though just some rando, decide on my own it’s my choice to withhold treatment until I’m 100% sure it can be cured with no side effects because that’s responsible : ) and I’m also not consulting any of their families or people who have undergone procedures or medical doctors I’m just doing this shit hehe bc I’m the Moral Center of the Universe.’
It’s not ok. Or right, or good. Also, you can’t take ethics out of medicine. The Hypcratic oath is taken for a reason. Doctors need to consider ethics in the complex issues they deal with, because guess what? Ethics come up literally constantly in medicine babe. Constantly. And when doctors decide to be cold and clinical and super personally biased, which they do way too often, we get rampant malpractice, and we get eugenics. I’m not viewing it as a rights issue only, but you’re not viewing it as one at all. Which, if you’re actually a health professional, gross. But sadly not surprising. You literally cannot divorce medicine from ethics though you have constantly got to be considering how your actions and inactions impact the people in your care. That’s the goddamn point of healing.
I’m right, and I don’t really have any reason to want to argue with you. I was making a meme for fun, and get nothing out of discussing this with someone I’ve never seen before. You’re the one going out of your way to debate a stranger over a joke that made you uncomfortable, I’m assuming because you like Cass, and can also tell there’s some truth in what I say, because people laugh and move on, not lash out, when they see stuff, unless they feel threatened by it. Just block or ignore me like a normal person and go about your life if arguing is what you want, because I’m way too tired to want to spend my time and energy debating people I don’t even know, stuff I already know I’m right about and literally am sure they won’t change their mind about either. Why would I want to argue with a brick wall?? And for that matter, why would you? Is either of us the arbiter of Dragon Age Truth? No. We’re two strangers with different moral codes and intellectual interests and knowledge and yeah one of us is right and that’s me, but I’m not asking for a debate and you won’t get anything out of debating me any more than I will debating you, so please leave me alone. I didn’t ask for this. It’s just a meme. You can let it go.
#ask#I responded once privately politely hoping you’d take a hint. you did not. message me again & im blocking you without reading it good god#it is just a meme you can forget it and move on I promise
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