#also the way both of them are relatable to me in that scene

[luv-beam]

SURPRISEEE!!! i finished some things early and realized i had a lot of time tonight, so here i am!!! really, just a treat for me heh:

• dropping us immediately into everything-has-gone-to-shit oh ur praying on our downfall TT like the distance is palpable... and hao 😭 oh sweet, protective big brother hao 😭

• THE TULIPS??!?@!( STRETCHING TOWARD THE SKY??? my chest hurts .. the way yn looks at the garden now. like ik how it feels when something/someplace u once considered ur safe haven or safety net becomes corrupt,, twists the heart

• YOU WOULD NOT COME HERE AGAIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 UGLY CRYING its the way "at least not alone" comes right after and i wonder if seokmin feels the same bc he also walked by, but only w minghao (granted, this isnt his house but...) and bc u write that they were BOTH affected (im not delulu am i...)

• vapid fop... what if i chuckled hahah

• also HELLO YOON JEONGHAN (u couldn't resist, could u, tara ;))) "a balm to the bruised parts" oh. im honestly living for jeonghans character and that in some other life, he and yn might actually make the perfect match (also mama xu doing mama matchmaker things w said thinly veiled glee is everything)

• its interesting that seok and hannie have kind of switched tropes? idk if that makes sense, but jeonghan as the warm, comforting presence and seokmin as the teasing, haunting ex-relation. its interesting seeing them both in these contexts and i like the subtle way u point to seokmin still having feelings for her or, yk, CARING ABT HER

• oh so nooow u try to play nice ..... jkjk im sorry i have assumed yns soul at this moment LMFAOOO (we're at the return of hao)

• i have sm pettiness in my bones that i emoathize w yn too well in this section LOL like yn was holding back, she could have snubbed him even more thoroughly imo !!! the dettached politeness and careful dismissal of his attempts at conversing w her makes me cackle lol (sorry dk) loved the dialogue/interactions!!!

• "weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction" oooooo welcome back tapestry metaphor 😌 i love imagining all of this like one massive tapestry being weaved in of those big ass looms that u think of from ancient greece

• speaking of intoxicating, the way u described jeonghan previously reminded me of champagne teehee

• the fact that every time seokyn make eye contact w one another the world seems to pause makes me ILL. like u cannot make me think of that slow motion, light fading-esque scene every time like my heart cannot take it

• i feel sick 😭😭😭😭 like damn that hurts... like u hate to see them doing so much better than u and u capture that bittersweet heartache/break so well :')))

• like sure seok's reputation might have been scuffed a little when she ran away, but all of that negative social consequence is given to yn, not seokmin. and the domino effect of all her "mistakes" and all this isolation is so... accurate? truly, her isolation and helplessness/defeat can be felt thru the screen

• i can kind of imagine the scene where yns escaped back home and is just sitting in the dark,, like the muffled sounds of partygoers and then the door closes and it's so quiet... man im so sad for her

• "ah i see my sister's charming everyone tonight" PLS I LOVE U HAO 😭😭😭 he's such a sweet older brother bye skfndjfj the way he's so protective im so

• i am kind of curious if yn has realized/forgiven seokmin in some way? like ik she's bitter and also heartbroken cuz she felt stupid for believing he could love her back, but at this point, she seems to have forgiven hao in some capacity for trying to help her "save her prospects" last chapter. so would it be safe to say that she's forgiven seok for going along w it too? or ig,, its a little more complicated than that huh

• damn someone who can make even jeonghan nervous/uncertain? crazy lol

• all this time passing MAKES. ME. SO. SAD. FOR. HER. 😭😭😭

• i agree w yn, the tulips bring an unwelcoke reminder of seokmin 😌 sorry seokmin

• the gaping hole and taut tension during the brief scene of spring age 22 is so JSNFKDJFJ RAAAAAAAAH ik im on yns side but like i need to strap this girl to an armchair so they can talk shit out 😭 i love longing so much but i also wanna tear my hair out

• i looove that u describe each and every ball/society event in its own way, like they have their own unique personalities!! :'))) like this one as a kaleidoscope... so beautiful, its a pleasure to my mind. on a similar note, the way u described sohee's dress and appearance was MWAH!! like i can picture exactly what she looks like, she's such a vibrant and living character in my mind. though the irony is not lost on me how her appearance/dress is described in such similar detail as when yn was a debutante 💔 like she's now been cast aside and it no longer matters how well she dresses; no one expects her to steal the spotlight

• oh but this one hurts 😭 ^ like it was established in chapter one that she must exhibit restraint and hope often slips through ones fingers like water, and it's heartbreaking and utterly depressing that she kind of lives thru these younger girls' experiences bc she never got her happily ever after. ur not only sidelined, but ur forced to watch someone live the life u were supposed to have (its so cruel 😭)

• "i suspect that there's still magic left in ur own waltz" OH I HAAAATE UUUUUUU YOON JEONGHAN WHY DID U HAVE TO END UP SO GOOD 😭 why r u making me like him tara 😭😭😭😭 not the second male lead 😭 now i want him and yn to end up together

• a reminder of what ive lost... the ache... ugh its so good...

• ONCE AGAIN. the imagery is perfection. like ur painting of the gardens at night in my mind is SUBLIME

• SHE WAS MINE FIRST OH JEONGHAN (´Д⊂ヽ OHHHHH I SO WANT U RN ive always sensed this kindred heartache btwn us, bestie. also just both of them coveting a hand that isnt theirs... goddamn, it's always the pining and forbidden that gets me

• but also totally digging the offer for a loveless marriage. like they can totally just make the best of it :')) its clear that they get along, and who knows.. it could turn into some semblance of love :')) i like to think that he's a little desperate himself while trying to convince yn to take up his offer. although a man won't get as much blow back for being unmarried, he's still a viscount. mutual desperation, mutual heartache... just drawing connections heh

• A GARDEN PARTY IN THE QUEEN'S GARDEN AND YET ANOTHER BEAUTIFUL PANEL TO ADD TO OUR GROWING TAPESTRY WEEEE

• "punctuated by the delicate notes" oo i just had to say that i love that word choice, it scratches an itch in my brain

• oh. thats quite the uh scandalous position their seokie... also just the way that time seemed to slow down again, but this time, yns trying so desperately to put on a strong face that seems so ready to slip off at a moment's notice. like i can feel her trying to pull herself up by her bootstraps and not fall apart

• never mind my question was just answered 😭😭😭 yn baby pls i know ur terribly depressed but U NEED TO HEAR HIM OUT . PLEASE.

• I LOOOOVE THE ENDING, LIKE I LOVE THAT WE'VE ENDED UP HERE OF ALL PLACES LIKE OOOOOOO PETTINESS HAHAHAHAH

if u couldn't discern it, i loved this chapter so much!!!! :'))) like the superstar was definitely the tension and the push and pull of emotions as yn experiences her young life flash before eyes skcnkdnf i love that you've ghrown a wrench into the plot of seokyn via one very handsome and persuasive and lovelorn yoon jeonghan 🫂🫂 i cant WAIT to read seok's reaction, and EVERYONE'S reactions for that matter LMFAO i am so enjoying this series so far tara, tysm for ur hard work !!! 💖

The Somerset Affair Chapter 3: Promises Bathed in Moonlight

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 3 took forever too lol // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys

summary: maybe you really are well and truly alone.

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here! series masterlist

The First Year: Summer Age 19

The first season after that fateful night was like a hazy dream. When you returned to the social scene, the whispers followed: why had Lord Lee disappeared from your side, so abruptly and publicly, leaving you to stand alone in the wake of his departure?

You endured it with a forced smile, accepting dances from any man who offered. Seokmin, when you saw him, was always nearby yet achingly out of reach, just beyond the edge of the crowd, his gaze never straying to you. Minghao, perhaps sensing the fraught silence between you, would draw you into conversation whenever he could, his manner protective, his eyes wary.

The estate gardens were nothing short of stunning in the late spring. Bursts of red and yellow tulips stretched toward the sky, their vibrant hues softened only by the ivy draping from the nearby trellis. The whole scene was picturesque, brimming with life and warmth. Yet, to you, it held only shadows, echoes of laughter from a time that now felt far away.

You’d meant to pass by quickly, perhaps even avoid the gardens altogether, but the pull was magnetic, the memories nestled there too insistent to ignore. This had been your sanctuary, your haven of whispered secrets and boundless dreams. You had spent countless summer afternoons here with Seokmin, lying on the grass, watching clouds drift lazily by as he teased you with nonsense riddles and ridiculous tales. He’d always made you laugh—those moments had seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with the certainty that nothing would ever change.

But change it had.

Now, as you stood among the tulips, their bright faces tilted toward the sun, you felt as if you were the only one left in shadow. Each flower seemed to mock you, as if asking why you had come back when he was no longer here to share it with you. You could almost hear his laughter in the rustling leaves, a phantom sound that made your heart ache.

You allowed yourself one indulgent moment of memory, one small surrender to the warmth of the past. In that instant, you could almost feel his presence beside you, could almost hear him sigh as he lay back against the grass and urged you to do the same. Tulip, he’d called you once, likening you to the flowers here—delicate, bright, full of life. His voice drifted through your mind like a warm breeze, and you closed your eyes, feeling the bittersweet pang of loss settle deeper into your chest.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the quiet, and you froze. It was the low murmur of a familiar voice—Seokmin’s voice—wafting toward you from the entrance of the garden. You barely made out the words, some easy greeting exchanged with Minghao as the two approached. The cadence of his voice was softer now, more mature perhaps, but unmistakably his. In an instant, the fragile calm you’d managed to summon evaporated, replaced by a panicked urgency to flee.

You turned on your heel, lifting your skirts as you hurried toward a narrow, shaded path, heart pounding as if you were a trespasser in your own sanctuary. You slipped behind the thick ivy-covered trellis, your fingers clutching the delicate lace of your gloves as you pressed your back against the rough wood. There, hidden from sight, you held your breath, willing your heart to quiet, afraid he might hear it even from a distance.

He paused at the garden’s entrance, his voice carrying lightly on the breeze, mingling with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It was a voice you had known too well, one that had once woven a thousand dreams in these very gardens. But now, standing there alone and concealed, all you could feel was the sharp edge of those dreams turned to dust.

You dared not look, dared not even breathe until his voice faded and the crunch of gravel beneath his feet grew distant. Only then did you step out from your hiding place, the scene around you as unchanged and pristine as ever. But it felt different, achingly empty. He was gone, and so, you realized, was something inside you.

Your shoulders slumped as you turned away from the gardens, swallowing against the emotion lodged in your throat. You would not come here again—at least, not alone.

That first year passed slowly, the memory of him shadowing you at every event, every garden, every dance, leaving you both haunted and empty.

The Second Year: Autumn Age 20

As autumn arrived, the weight of that lost season faded slightly, turning to something colder, something sharper. You found yourself no longer seeking him out at every ball. Instead, you steeled yourself, donning an unapproachable mask that suited you better with each passing day. Your brother had chosen to spend the season traveling, claiming that the sea salt of Grecian air was calling him. The absence of his protection meant that you had to sail the rough shores of that season alone – Minghao’s letters were frequent and welcomed, always ready to provide words of assurance from thousands of miles away. 

Your second season was to be markedly different—by your design and no one else’s. The naive enthusiasm of your first season had faded, replaced by a wariness that had hardened around you like a shell. Suitors still called upon you, though they were fewer and far between, and the gentlemen of impeccable standing, those your mother deemed suitable, grew distant with each passing event. They would approach with polite intentions, murmuring some pleasantry or another, only to bow and make haste to another part of the room where more receptive young ladies waited. 

Yet, for all the polite avoidance and empty conversation, there was Lord Yoon Jeonghan, the Viscount of Hastings. He was different—not at all the cold and detached nobleman that society often produced, nor the vapid fop more concerned with his cufflinks than his conversation. He was witty, charming even, and his remarks would often spark a laugh that you could scarcely suppress. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time you spoke, as if you were unraveling a particularly delightful mystery, and for those brief moments, he made you almost forget.

Almost.

You felt his gaze often, lingering in the spaces between words, and sometimes, if you were honest with yourself, it was almost enough to ease the ache that had taken root in your chest. There was a certain warmth to his presence, a lightheartedness that let you slip free from the burdensome weight of the past. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his interest immediately. She seized upon his attentions with thinly veiled glee, her gaze often flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating. She would arrange you beside him at dinners, leave you in his company at the slightest opportunity, her encouragement subtle yet unmistakable.

Jeonghan would lean in close, his words laced with humor, often turning some mundane observation into something absurdly funny. And for a fleeting second, the laughter would come easily, a balm to the bruised and hidden parts of yourself. You allowed yourself to think, Maybe this could work.

But the quiet, hollow ache lingered, a constant reminder of the ghost you could not quite shake. And that ghost was Seokmin.

Seokmin, who watched from across the room, his gaze burning, perceptive as ever. He was polite, distant even, but his presence was always there, like the flicker of candlelight that neither dimmed nor died. You could feel it most keenly when you danced with other men, swirling across the floor to the strains of violins and cellos. Once, as you stepped onto the ballroom floor with Jeonghan, you felt Seokmin’s gaze settle on you from across the room. The intensity of it was enough to make your skin prickle, and suddenly you were painfully aware of every step, every turn.

The first misstep was subtle—a slight stumble over the Viscount’s foot. But as you met Seokmin’s eyes, his brow lifted ever so slightly, a smirk hovering just on the edge of his mouth. That subtle, amused expression set your pulse racing in a way you would never confess. And in your distracted state, you stumbled again, this time nearly losing your balance. Jeonghan chuckled, mistaking your lapse for some charming display of nervousness, too oblivious to realize the true reason for your faltering steps.

Seokmin’s gaze, however, saw straight through you. His smirk was knowing, almost taunting, as though he could see past every mask, every effort you’d put into your newfound resolve. It was maddening—the way he could still get under your skin, the way he seemed to enjoy watching you unravel, even if only for a second. The lingering effects of that look stayed with you long after the music ended, clinging to you like perfume.

And so, you spent the season caught between two worlds. Lord Yoon, with his charm and his lightheartedness, who could ease the bitterness that lay thick upon your heart if only for a while. And Seokmin, a relentless presence, haunting you from across every ballroom and garden, his gaze a tether you could never quite sever. It was a delicate dance, one you performed night after night, hoping, in vain, that one day you would not feel his eyes on you at all.

The afternoon sun angled low over the estate, bathing the drawing room in a cool October light that poured through the high windows, softening the sharp edges of the day. Minghao had just returned from his travels and had brought back a novel he thought you would enjoy—Jane Eyre, by a Miss Brontë. The air was thick with the quiet thrill of this gift, the promise of evenings spent lost in its pages, and you had just begun to express your excitement when Minghao, with his usual calm, announced that Seokmin had accompanied him.

You schooled your face to remain pleasant, though your pulse quickened at the mention of his name. And indeed, there he stood by the door, his posture polite yet tense, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes dark with some unreadable emotion. He offered a slight bow, his gaze fixed on you even as you looked firmly at your brother.

"Did you know," Minghao began, oblivious to the tension in the room as he handed you the book, "that the author published it under a man’s name? Some say it’s because she thought her work would be dismissed otherwise."

You managed a small smile, allowing yourself the momentary reprieve of this topic. “Thank you, Minghao,” you replied, fingers grazing the embossed cover. “I’ll cherish it. It sounds wonderful.”

Across the room, Seokmin shifted, clearing his throat. "Do you find time to read often these days?" His voice was tentative, a hint of hope or maybe familiarity clinging to the question, as if reaching for a bridge long burned.

Your reply was smooth and immediate, though you kept your gaze firmly on Minghao, as if Seokmin had merely been a ghost in the room. "I make time, yes. It’s quite necessary, given the, ah… limited options for conversation."

A faint hint of color rose to Seokmin’s cheeks, but he quickly smothered whatever response he had been about to make. Minghao glanced between you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pieced together the simmering tension, the edges of a puzzle he hadn’t been around to see formed.

There was a brief pause, heavy as stones, before Seokmin tried again. "Do you still ride out to the southern fields? I remember…" He hesitated, his words trailing off before he finished. “The views from the hilltops there were always lovely in the fall.”

It was a simple question, a nod to a pastime you had once enjoyed, but the memories it evoked—the two of you racing across the meadows, laughing breathlessly under the open sky, sharing quiet moments on that hilltop he spoke of—all felt too sharp, too close. You tightened your grip on the book, the rough binding grounding you in the present.

"Occasionally," you murmured, as if speaking to no one in particular. Your tone was clipped, devoid of warmth, and you let the silence stretch, long enough for the weight of his words to fade. After a beat, you forced yourself to stand, smoothing the fabric of your dress as you prepared to excuse yourself. “Please, if you’ll excuse me.”

Seokmin’s face barely shifted, yet the flicker of disappointment that crossed his features was unmistakable. "Wait, please—" he began, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “I… wanted to know if you might—”

You looked over at Minghao, not giving Seokmin the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. “Thank you for the book, brother,” you said softly. “I’ll look forward to discussing it with you when I’ve read it.” And with that, you turned, leaving the drawing room before Seokmin could finish his thought.

You could feel his eyes on your back, a silent, unyielding weight as you retreated, but you pushed down the churning emotions in your chest.

Later, your mother found you in the library, a faintly exasperated look in her eye. "What has possessed you to act so sharply towards Lord Lee? He is a friend of your brother’s, and a gentleman. I hardly think it was necessary to snub him quite so… thoroughly."

"I simply wasn’t inclined to entertain him," you replied, not lifting your gaze from the book you had barely managed to focus on since leaving the drawing room. “It was not my intention to be rude, Mother.”

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. “He asked after you very kindly. And if you cannot manage the simple courtesy of conversation, well…” Her sigh was laden with disappointment, tinged with the faintest trace of resignation. “It does make things rather difficult for you, don’t you think?”

You didn’t respond, clamping your lips shut and focusing on the words of Jane Eyre as if they might hold an escape. What could you say? That politeness was a currency you could not afford to spend on him? That every pleasantry only made the knife in your back twist a little deeper?

There was nothing to be done, and so you said nothing at all. The book lay heavy in your lap, unread, as your mother’s gaze lingered a moment longer, her silence more cutting than words.

The Third Year: Winter Age 21

The winter air nipped at every inch of bare skin as you stepped out of the carriage and into the towering, grand hall where that night’s ball was being held. Snow blanketed the world outside, a thick layer that muffled everything it touched, leaving only the crunch of footsteps and the soft murmur of the wind. The frost bit through your gloves, but it was nothing compared to the cold lodged deep within your chest. You drew yourself up and stepped into the hall, a practiced smile on your face as you greeted the hosts and exchanged pleasantries.

Inside, the ball was already in full swing. Laughter and music filled the air, weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction. You navigated through clusters of guests with practiced ease, inclining your head and making idle conversation that barely skimmed the surface. You had come to know the routines well, slipping into this role as though it were armor: a mask of charm, a shield of grace. It kept you safe, even as it kept others at arm’s length.

But then, just as you were making your way toward a friend by the window, you spotted him—Seokmin, across the room. He was surrounded by a small group of gentlemen, his laughter carrying over the din as he shared some amusing story. His cheeks were flushed from the warmth, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you’d once adored. For a moment, a whisper of memory drifted to you unbidden—those nights by the garden, his laughter mingling with the soft hum of summer crickets, a harmony you’d taken for granted. The sight of him now, seemingly unaffected by the hollow ache that had lodged itself so firmly within you, twisted something in your chest.

As though he could feel your gaze, his eyes turned toward you, catching you unprepared. His laughter faded, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, regret, perhaps. Or something more resigned, an acceptance of the chasm that had grown between you. He made no move toward you; there was only a slight nod, a silent acknowledgement of… something. You couldn’t name it, and you didn’t want to try.

It was his easy return to conversation that undid you. The way he turned back to his companions, laughing once more, as if nothing had changed, as if the years you’d spent trying to bury the echoes of that ball could be erased so simply. The laughter that once filled you with warmth now rang hollow in your ears, a reminder of all that was lost and all that could never be reclaimed.

The walls of the ballroom began to feel oppressive, the cloying warmth of bodies and perfume suffocating. You pressed a gloved hand to your temple, feigning discomfort as you turned to your nearest acquaintance. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” you murmured, a faint tremor in your voice that you hoped was undetectable.

“Oh, my dear, are you all right? You do look rather pale,” she said with concern, her eyes scanning your face. “Perhaps some fresh air?”

“Yes,” you managed, barely holding together the thin fabric of your composure. “Yes, that may be best.”

With a polite smile and promises to catch up at the next event, you drifted toward the doorway, slipping through the crowd as unobtrusively as you could. The cold air in the entry hall was a shock, but you welcomed it, letting it bite into your cheeks and ground you.

Soon enough, you found yourself in your room, finally alone. The silent darkness enveloped you, and for the first time that night, you let yourself drop the mask. You sank into the nearest armchair, clutching the armrests as if they could anchor you. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, catching the moonlight like shards of glass. There was no warmth, no comfort in the scene, only the lingering shadows of a memory that refused to fade.

You had no energy to reach for a book, nor did you bother lighting the fireplace. Instead, you sat, letting the silence swell around you, filling the empty spaces that had been left in Seokmin’s wake. Your gaze lingered on the frost etching delicate patterns across the glass, and for a moment, you wondered if he was still at the ball, still laughing, still untouched by the winter that had settled so deep within you.

It felt almost foolish to mourn something you had lost so long ago, but as the hours slipped by, you couldn’t bring yourself to shake the feeling.

The bitterness reached new heights that year. Your relationship with Minghao, however, began to shift. He sensed your resolve, noticed the way you shrank from any mention of Seokmin, and quietly took up the role of your champion. He became your shield at social gatherings, a polite, steadfast presence whenever your mother hinted at your dwindling prospects or a suitor left you standing alone. Your mother’s eyes, ever watchful, lingered upon you with a barely hidden concern, her gaze darting to the eligible gentlemen nearby and then to you with that familiar, expectant look.

“You know,” she began in a low voice, “if you were only a touch more… approachable, it might encourage the young men here to consider you more seriously.”

You forced a small smile, the words heavy and stale from years of repetition. “I’ll do my best, Mama.”

But before she could respond, a familiar voice joined the conversation.

“Ah, I see my sister is charming everyone tonight,” Minghao remarked smoothly as he appeared beside you, offering a short bow to your mother. “May I borrow her for a moment?”

Your mother’s gaze softened—she had never worried over Minghao as she did with you, and his title afforded him some measure of leniency that you could never claim. She nodded, though her expression remained faintly expectant as she watched you both step away.

Minghao led you toward the edge of the ballroom, his arm steady around yours as you wove through the crowd. Once there, he turned to you with a look that spoke of both amusement and concern.

“You looked ready to flee,” he observed, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Would you like a few minutes’ reprieve?”

You sighed, grateful for his intervention. “I was beginning to feel like a prized cow at market,” you replied, tone dry. “Thank you for sparing me.”

He chuckled softly, but his expression grew more serious as he studied you. “I noticed Mother watching you rather closely. And I know her remarks can be… persistent.”

“Persistent is a kind way of putting it,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper. “She insists that my chances dwindle each season, that—” You cut yourself off, pressing your lips together to hold back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

Minghao’s gaze softened, and he sighed, reaching out to adjust the lace of your cuff in a gentle, brotherly gesture. “You’ve nothing to prove to her or to anyone else here,” he said quietly. “If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be here to see you through the night.”

Despite the stifling heat of the ballroom, his presence felt like a breath of fresh air—a lifeline against the unrelenting pressure of society and its expectations.

“And if any gentleman dares to turn his back on you tonight,” he added, his voice adopting a playful lilt, “I shall personally see to it that he regrets it.”

The corners of your mouth lifted into a small, appreciative smile. Minghao’s protectiveness was a comfort you rarely admitted to needing, but tonight, you couldn’t help feeling grateful that he saw past your composed exterior to the worry lingering beneath.

The music shifted to a slower waltz, and he extended his hand with a knowing smile. “Shall we dance, sister? A waltz is far more agreeable than enduring Mother’s lectures, I assure you.”

You accepted his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. As you twirled together, the swirling silks and laughter around you faded into the background, leaving only the familiar warmth of his presence.

After a moment, he leaned in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And for what it’s worth,” he murmured, “you have no need of any of these foppish gentlemen. They should consider themselves lucky if they could win even a passing glance from you.”

The sincerity in his words soothed you, and for a brief moment, the ballroom was no longer a daunting place, nor its occupants a source of anxiety. Minghao’s quiet strength steadied you, his steadfast support as dependable as the rhythm of the waltz beneath your feet.

Yet, even with Minghao’s silent support, Seokmin’s laughter ringing through the ballroom haunted you, echoing a reminder of what you once had and what you had lost.

Across the room, your gaze flickered to a familiar figure, the Lord Viscount Yoon, the lightness of his presence breaking through your somber thoughts. He had been different—his clever banter had a way of making even the most mundane topics feel lively and engaging. When he spoke, it was as if he was inviting you into an exclusive circle of shared secrets and laughter, making you momentarily forget the weight of expectations pressing down on you. 

Even now, he stood amidst a group of gentlemen, engaging in light banter that sent ripples of laughter through the crowd. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time he caught your gaze, but he looked away just as quickly, as if your newfound prickly attitude was enough to scare him away. 

Over time, your disinterest had made him less willing to approach you. Though he had shown interest the previous year, the glow in his eyes now held a tinge of uncertainty, as if he had begun to doubt whether your heart remained open to him. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his hesitance, her gaze flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating.

“Perhaps if I were a bit more approachable,” you murmured to Minghao, who nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward Jeonghan.

“Sometimes, it takes more than just approachability,” he replied quietly. “He is a good man, but the more you withdraw, the more he may think he should step back.”

You let the thought linger in your mind, but it was soon drowned out by the sight of Seokmin across the room, leaning in to laugh politely with another woman, a vision of laughter and ease that made your heart twist painfully. The vibrant atmosphere of the ball blurred around you, filled with the laughter of others while your own heart sank, caught between the past and the possibility of a future—one you feared might never be yours again.

The Fourth Year: Spring Age 22

Spring came late that year, but the blossoms in the garden were the most vibrant you had ever seen. Tulips, bright and full of life, lined the path outside your drawing room window. Their sight brought an unwelcome reminder of Seokmin, as if they were mocking the pain that had dulled over the years but never truly healed.

One fateful morning, Seokmin arrived at the estate again, waiting for Minghao in the drawing room. You entered the room unaware of his presence, intending to retrieve a letter you had left on the table. The shock of finding him there, standing alone, was enough to root you to the spot.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. “How have you been?” he asked, breaking the silence, his tone formal but softened by something more vulnerable.

“I try to stay busy,” you replied, refusing to meet his gaze, your own fixed on the tulips outside the window, as if they alone could fortify your resolve. The way they leaned toward the glass, reaching out, seemed a cruel reminder of what you could never reach. You clung to your indifference, fearing that one look at him would undo you.

“Ah,” he replied, his voice barely a murmur. “I see.”

The silence was unbearable, stretching long and wide between you, filled with all the words you had left unsaid. For the first time, you could sense his unease, as though he, too, felt the weight of everything that had come between you. You imagined he might say more, but instead, he fell silent, unwilling or unable to breach the chasm.

When Minghao finally entered the room, his gaze shifted from Seokmin to you, sensing the tension immediately. He offered a warm, lighthearted greeting that brought some relief, yet you felt exposed, as though Seokmin could still see every last flicker of pain beneath your carefully controlled exterior. Minghao’s easy conversation filled the room, and you seized on it as a lifeline, grateful that the moment had passed.

But as you left the drawing room, something inside you felt irrevocably changed. The wound you thought had healed now ached anew, as raw and fresh as ever.

Age 22

The season has turned again, and as you step into the grand ballroom, you are met with a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that fill the air with an electric energy. The chandelier overhead sparkles like a constellation of stars, its crystal droplets refracting the warm glow of candlelight that dances across the room. The polished wooden floors gleam underfoot, reflecting the vivid hues of the gowns that swirl around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze.

After five seasons on the market, the whispers of society have cast you in the role of a spinster. No longer the young debutante brimming with promise, you now find yourself almost a chaperone to the eager, wide-eyed debutantes navigating their first seasons. Your newest charge, Sohee, is a whirlwind of youthful exuberance, her bright pink dress adorned with intricate floral appliqués that seem to bloom against her pale skin. The bodice sparkles with tiny beads, catching the light as she twirls, her laughter ringing like bells. You can see the nervous energy in her movements, the way her hands flutter as she points out various gentlemen across the ballroom.

“Oh, look at Lord Lee—what a fine dancer!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement as she gazes at Seokmin. His deep navy jacket contrasts sharply with the pristine white of his shirt, and the cravat around his neck is tied with an effortless elegance that only enhances his charm. The way he carries himself, relaxed and confident, seems to draw the attention of everyone around him.

You try to mask the bitterness rising within you as you observe him. Seokmin entertains Sohee’s infatuated chatter with polite smiles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. For a fleeting moment, you are grateful that she has captured his attention, but then the weight of your own feelings crashes over you like a cold wave. The ache in your chest deepens as memories flood your mind—long summers spent chasing fireflies, laughter echoing through the fields as he playfully pursued you with a worm on a stick, or the way he would reward your sharp tongue with that unguarded, carefree laughter.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, Seokmin’s gaze suddenly shifts, catching yours from across the room. Your heart leaps into your throat, a jolt of surprise and embarrassment coursing through you. Mortified that he has noticed your lingering stare, you quickly avert your eyes, but the warmth of your cheeks betrays you. You want to disappear into the vibrant crowd, to escape the intensity of your emotions that seem to swell with every passing second. Yet, even as you force yourself to engage with Sohee’s exuberant chatter, you can feel the weight of Seokmin’s gaze resting on you, a silent reminder of everything you’ve lost and the connection you once shared.

It is a cruel twist of fate, standing on the sidelines while young girls like Sohee chase the dreams you once held so dear. You find yourself in this role, a guide for the naive and hopeful, all the while wishing that you could feel that same thrill of possibility. The grand ballroom, alive with laughter and music, feels both enchanting and suffocating, each dance a reminder of the joys that have slipped through your fingers.

As the music swells and couples begin to sway across the polished floor, you catch glimpses of Sohee and Seokmin amidst the swirling gowns and dapper jackets. They move with an innocent delight that contrasts starkly with the weight of your unspoken feelings. Sohee beams up at him, her laughter bright and infectious, and for a moment, the sight softens the edges of your heartache.

Just then, you feel a presence beside you, and when you turn, you find Viscount Yoon Jeonghan standing there, a knowing smile dancing on his lips. His appearance is as striking as ever; his tailored coat hugs his frame perfectly, and the delicate embroidery along the cuffs catches the light, giving him an almost ethereal glow. His hair falls elegantly around his face, framing those sharp features that always seem to hold a hint of mischief.

“They make quite a pair, do they not?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and warm as he gestures subtly toward the young couple. His eyes sparkle with a mix of humor and curiosity, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the lighthearted conversations you once shared, the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.

You glance back at Sohee and Seokmin, your heart twisting at the sight of them. “It seems so,” you reply, your tone nonchalant, though the bitterness seeps through. “She is quite taken with him.”

Jeonghan’s gaze lingers on the two, but then shifts back to you, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “And yet, I believe it’s Seokmin’s charm that keeps her so enchanted. He has a way of making everyone feel special, does he not?” His words are light, but there’s an underlying sincerity that pulls you in.

“Especially the younger ones,” you add, your voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. You cross your arms, an instinctive barrier against the swell of emotions threatening to break free. Jeonghan tilts his head, studying you with an intensity that makes you self-conscious.

“Ah, but don’t let that dampen your spirits,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I suspect that there’s still magic left in your own waltz.”

You scoff softly, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “I’ve had my dance, my Lord. It’s only right that I help guide the next generation.”

He nods, as if he understands more than you’ve revealed. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little bit of the spotlight yourself, does it?” His gaze holds yours for a moment longer, an invitation hanging in the air between you.

Taking a deep breath, you accept his invitation with a gentle nod. Jeonghan extends his hand, and with a sense of determination, you place yours in his. The moment you step onto the dance floor, a familiar spark ignites between you. As you move, you find the rhythm of the waltz is an intoxicating escape from the weight of the evening.

His touch is confident yet gentle, guiding you with an ease that sends warmth through your veins. You laugh softly at his playful quips, the way he effortlessly spins you and twirls you beneath the glimmering chandelier. The surrounding laughter and chatter fade into a soft background hum as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment.

But just as you begin to forget the lingering ache in your heart, a commotion draws your attention away. You glance over to find Sohee in an animated conversation with Seokmin, her eyes wide with excitement. She appears to be swooning—her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink as she clutches her fan, fluttering it in the air as if to cool herself.

And then it happens. As the waltz concludes and the music reaches its crescendo, Seokmin leans down to retrieve Sohee's fan, which had slipped from her grasp in her flurry of emotion. The way he effortlessly picks it up and hands it back to her is undeniably charming. She gazes up at him with unrestrained adoration, and in that moment, it’s as if the entire ballroom falls silent, the air thick with their connection.

Your heart sinks, the joyous moment turning into a bitter reminder of your own unfulfilled longing. You feel the weight of your own feelings crashing down, suffocating the lightness of the dance you just shared with Jeonghan. The innocence of Sohee’s crush, her delight at Seokmin’s attention, stabs at something deep within you, twisting the knife of your heartache just a little deeper.

“Lord Lee is such a gentleman,” Sohee breathes, her eyes sparkling with admiration. You try to smile, but the corners of your mouth feel heavy, the happiness you should feel for her overshadowed by the ache in your chest.

“Quite the pair, indeed,” Jeonghan murmurs beside you, his tone shifting slightly. You glance up at him, but the amusement in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with a knowing sympathy that only intensifies your discomfort.

“I should—” you start, desperate to escape the scene unfolding before you, but Jeonghan catches your gaze, his expression serious yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, concern lacing his voice.

You swallow hard, nodding even though you can feel the tears threatening to brim. “Yes, of course. It’s just… a reminder of what I’ve lost.”

Jeonghan’s eyes soften, understanding radiating from him. “Then let’s step outside for a moment, shall we? A breath of fresh air might do you good.”

You nod again, grateful for his presence, and together you slip away from the dancing couples, leaving behind the laughter and music, hoping the cool night air will ease the weight on your heart. As you step outside, the crisp night air envelops you like a silken shawl, drawing you away from the swirling gaiety of the ballroom. The coolness is a welcome reprieve from the warmth of bodies and laughter, and you relish the soft caress of the breeze against your skin, bringing with it a gentle rustling of leaves that whispers secrets from the garden. The scent of blooming jasmine and sweet honeysuckle mingles in the air, heady and intoxicating, wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace.

You move to the stone balcony, where the moon hangs low in the sky, its silvery glow spilling over the manicured gardens below, illuminating the delicate petals of the flowers that sway gently in the evening light. The grass is cool beneath your feet, a delightful contrast to the warmth of your silk gown, and you can feel the slight dampness of dew beginning to settle on the earth, a reminder of the approaching night.

Fidgeting with the lace hem of your gown, you feel the fabric whisper against your ankles, the soft silk cool to the touch. Your heart races as you catch sight of Jeonghan stepping out to join you, his tall frame silhouetted against the glow of the moonlight. He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You love him,” he states matter-of-factly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, surprise etched across your features. Your fingers tighten around the delicate lace, twisting it nervously as if it could shield you from his piercing gaze.

“It is nothing to shy away from,” he continues, his tone surprisingly earnest. “I have observed the two of you for years, engaging in this delightful dance around each other. You love him. That is a fact. Do not shy away from it—love is a beautiful thing, even if it is tinged with loss.”

You force a laugh, the sound almost bitter. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“And if I am?” Jeonghan counters, his brow arching slightly, inviting you to delve deeper into the conversation.

“Why, then,” you reply, your heart racing with a mixture of intrigue and dread, “it cannot be that only my secrets are shared tonight.”

“Lady Choi,” he says, the shift in his tone unmistakable, as though he is unearthing a long-buried truth.

“The general’s wife?” you ask, the name escaping your lips with an air of disbelief.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, the lightness of the evening is overshadowed by the weight of his admission. “She was mine first,” he admits, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. “But her father—he was a cruel man—wished to marry her off before I ever had the chance to court her properly, as adults.”

You draw a sharp breath, the air suddenly feeling thick and heavy around you. “Lord Yoon, it is a sin to desire another man’s wife,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as they continue to play with the delicate fabric of your gown.

“And it is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours,” he replies, a note of melancholy creeping into his voice. “It seems we are both trapped in a most unfortunate dilemma, Miss Xu.”

You hesitate, the truth of his words resonating within you like the toll of a distant bell. You find yourself gazing at the garden below, the moonlight casting long shadows across the path. “I… suppose.”

His expression softens, the tension between you easing slightly as he steps closer, the distance shrinking as if the night conspires to bring you together. “I have an idea, if you are amenable to it,” he proposes, his voice low and conspiratorial.

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing despite the tumult of your thoughts. “I suppose I have no choice but to hear it.”

“Let us… have an arrangement of sorts.”

Your mind races, the absurdity of the suggestion both ludicrous and strangely enticing. “An… arrangement?” you repeat, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“A loveless marriage is better than none at all,” he declares, his eyes glinting with a mixture of seriousness and mischief.

You laugh, unable to contain yourself. “You jest. Have you indulged in more champagne than you can manage?”

“I assure you, I am as clear-headed as the sky on a summer’s day,” he insists, maintaining eye contact with a steady gaze that makes your heart flutter. “We are friends, are we not?”

“Friends? My lord, we have danced a few times, to my mother’s delight,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your voice, though your heart feels heavier with the weight of his words.

He feigns a look of mock hurt, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. “You wound me! We have enjoyed such spirited conversations! I do consider you a friend. And a marriage with a friend—a viscount at that—is nothing to scoff at. Have you given no thought to your future? What happens when your dear brother finds a wife and you are no longer his primary concern?”

The reality of his words settles over you, sending a shiver down your spine. You search the moonlit path, pondering the path that lies ahead. “Just… think about it,” he presses, his voice earnest, the night seemingly holding its breath.

The silence stretches between you, the world around you fading as you consider the proposal. You raise your gaze to his, a flurry of emotions swirling in your heart.

But as the moment hangs in the air, he steps back, creating a chasm of space between you once more. The hope in his eyes flickers like the stars above, illuminating the path of unspoken possibilities.

With a lingering glance, Jeonghan turns to leave, the quiet night reclaiming its stillness. Alone now, you stand beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, a companion that seems to mock your predicament, its light dancing across your skin like a playful breeze. The weight of the evening settles around you, the possibilities of what could have been lingering like a sweet perfume in the air. The garden around you, fragrant and alive, seems to echo your turmoil, the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets a reminder that you are not as alone as you feel—but still, the loneliness wraps around you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and inescapable.

The Queen’s Garden is even more stunning at twilight, an exquisite tapestry of flora bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. Lanterns hang from the branches of ancient trees, casting a warm glow that mingles with the fading daylight, creating a magical ambiance that enchants every guest present. Lush greenery and blooming flowers adorn the paths, their fragrant scents—jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle—drifting through the air like a sweet serenade.

As you weave your way through the throngs of elegantly dressed nobles, the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth radiating from the lively crowd. The sounds of laughter and spirited conversation wrap around you, punctuated by the delicate notes of a string quartet nestled among the trees, their melodies intertwining with the soft rustle of leaves overhead.

Amidst the gaiety, you scan the faces around you, searching for Sohee. Her absence hangs like a whisper, pulling at your awareness.

Just then, your gaze lands on Lord Yoon Jeonghan, standing across the garden. His tall frame commands attention, and as you meet his eyes, he offers you a teasing wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. He raises his glass in a casual salute, a playful reminder of the “arrangement” he proposed only weeks prior.

But as you turn to continue your search, you hear a soft rustle behind the curtains of the powder room. A frown creases your brow, and with a sense of trepidation, you pull the curtains aside.

What you find steals the breath from your lungs: Sohee, her dress slightly askew, caught in an intimate embrace with Seokmin, hidden from view. Time seems to freeze as you process the scene before you, the vibrant colors of the garden fading into a blur.

They don’t notice your entrance, the warmth of their laughter drifting toward you, blissfully unaware of the precariousness of their moment. A wave of urgency washes over you; you step back, the laughter and music of the ball dimming behind you, overwhelmed by the tension in the air.

The cool mask of indifference you wear feels like a fragile façade, barely holding up against the storm of emotions roiling within you. Every heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the tension crackling in the air. You force yourself to breathe slowly, deliberately, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the sharp tang of night air filling your lungs.

You clear your throat, breaking the stillness that envelops the hidden corner where Sohee and Seokmin stand. Your posture is straight, your chin lifted, but your palms feel clammy against the lace of your gown.

“Sohee,” you say, your voice steady and cool, as though dipped in ice, “you should return to your Mama. If anyone else had seen you like this, it would ruin you.” The words hang in the air, each syllable heavy with consequence. You hold her gaze, your eyes fierce, willing her to understand the gravity of the situation.

Sohee’s eyes widen, vulnerability flickering across her face like candlelight. The flush staining her cheeks deepens as she processes your words, a mixture of mortification and gratitude washing over her. She nods, biting her lip, and you watch as she slips past you, shoulders squared despite the embarrassment, grateful for your discretion.

Once she disappears back into the sea of guests, the atmosphere shifts. It’s just you and Seokmin now, the weight of the moment pressing down like a thick fog, the sounds of the ballroom fading into a dull roar. For the first time in years, you stand alone with him, the years of silence and distance palpable between you.

You turn to leave, the flutter of your gown trailing behind you, but his voice stops you, soft and tentative, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Please, don’t go.”

You whirl around, disbelief etched across your features. “Why on earth? What are you doing here?” Your heart pounds, and your fists clench at your sides, the intensity of the moment clawing at your composure.

He takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking, but the space feels charged with electricity. The use of that name—“tulip”—falls from his lips like a spark igniting a fire inside you. Anger bubbles to the surface, your fingers curling into fists. “You have no right to call me that anymore.”

His expression shifts, desperation creeping into his tone as he opens his palms, a gesture of vulnerability. “It’s been four years, and you still won’t give me the chance to explain myself.”

Your chest tightens at the memories, sharp and unyielding, a storm of emotions swirling within you. “So was it because Minghao told you to?”

His gaze darkens, the flicker of regret visible in his eyes. “Yes, but you need to—”

“Good evening, Seokmin.” The words slip from your mouth like ice, cold and final. You turn to leave, your back straight but your heart racing, and he reaches for you, fingers brushing against your arm like a whisper.

You jerk away, anger and hurt surging through you, the fabric of your dress catching in the air as you turn. “Please, stay,” he begs, his voice thick with emotion, almost desperate. “Stay and let me explain—”

You shake your head slowly, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken history. “You lost the right to that four years ago.” Your voice softens, but the resolve behind it remains, a quiet storm ready to break. In a flurry of lace and silk, you turn on your heel, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick grass as you leave him standing there, a distant silhouette against the vibrant backdrop of the garden.

The night air feels cooler as you weave through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. You seek solace in the bustling ballroom, where laughter and music swirl around you, a cacophony that drowns out the echo of your heartache. The warmth of the candles flickers against your skin, the soft glow momentarily comforting amidst the chaos.

The crowd shifts around you, a blur of color and laughter, but everything feels muted—distant—as you navigate back toward the main hall. Your heart still pounds, each beat a reminder of the encounter that lingers, bitter as smoke. And then, across the room, a familiar pair of eyes finds yours: Jeonghan. His gaze is intent, assessing, and as he raises his glass to you with an amused smirk, his words from weeks before echo in your mind: “It is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours.”

The decision is instant, unbidden, like the snap of a thread pulled too tight. Steeling yourself, you weave through the crowd toward him, your mind clearing with each step. Jeonghan turns slightly as you approach, his attention shifting from the men he’d been conversing with. You stop just a breath away, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you, even as laughter and chatter fill the air.

“My lord,” you say, voice steady as a blade.

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Miss Xu?” His eyes gleam in the low light, the gold of the candle flames reflecting in them. “I must say, you look rather lovely in this garden.”

“Yes.” The word is simple, yet it feels like a vow, a quiet certainty.

His smile falters for just a second, replaced by a glimmer of surprise in his eyes before he quickly recovers. He leans in slightly, his voice softened but no less intent.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice calm but resolute. “I shall marry you.”

Jeonghan’s expression settles into something unreadable, a flicker of surprise replaced by the slightest tilt of a smile. He inclines his head, the elegant motion drawing him closer, as though sealing the moment between you.

“A wise decision, Miss Xu,” he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. The sounds of the garden around you blur into silence, the perfume of roses and night-blooming jasmine heavy on the air, and though the world presses on with its merriment, this quiet promise, made in the hush of the queen’s garden, feels irrevocable.

Tagging: @kibs-and-bits@moondustmemories@shinwonderful@ivehypnosis@gwend0lyne@thestoryofana13@mellowamour@blissedjoon@begentlewithme-please @xabsolutelynothingx @reiofsuns2001 @mngyulvrs @mooniewrld @archivistworld @lexyraeworld @ateez-atiny380 @walkinganxiety01 @lovecleastrange @uriguyeok @nenojaems @carefully325 @meowmeowminnie @ts19009 @flickhurstyles

[bubblegumgothglados]

Could you talk at all about the headspace you or other doms or... sadists? (forgive me if the wrong term for I am but a humble masochist) are in during what is considered one of the more "problematic" scenarios such as indulging in kinks related to drowning or nail pulling as you described?

I can imagine very well how the adrenaline and thrill that *I* would feel, but not being very dominant, I have always been curious about the thoughts parts and feelings that make *you* receive enjoyment from the situation.

That is a really interesting question

I suppose first of all I'm going to talk specifically about the situation in which I am both the dominant and the top (sadist), because the situation where I'm the dominant but bottoming (masochist) is very different.

Also I haven't talk to other dominants about this much so this is my experience but it might not mirror everyone elses.

So

Where being the submissive/ bottom for these scenes tends to be a narrowing of focus; your whole world reduced to this moment of pain and adrenaline and fear and pleasure, being the dominant and top is an expanding of focus. There are a million processes running through my mind, I'm taking note of my victims breathing, heart rate, eye movements, muscle movement, the warmth of their skin, etc etc etc. I'm also aware of the temperature of the room, my own stress levels, how long it is since I last checked in with them, what the time is. I take it as my job to be aware of everything because anything could be a sign of something going wrong or about to go wrong.

That's the headspace I'm in.

The second question was what I find enjoyable about it. Well. Because of this intense focus it's very out of body, my own physical reactions are dampened or left behind entirely. The things I'm enjoying are the control; having every single aspect of the scene be mine to manipulate is bliss. The reactions I'm causing; every moan, every scream, every look of panic and fear, absolutely intoxicating. The pure almost animalistic joy of causing pain; almost in a detached, scientific way? Almost like a child pulling the wings off of a butterfly? It's both calming and deeply sexual. And I guess just the satisfaction of doing something I'm really good at, and doing it really well; I know how experienced and knowledgeable I am about this stuff, I come up with a scene, plan it out, and then do it.

I'd love to know if other dominants feel the same way and I hope this helped

[venranae]

People that hated frodo for sending away sam would HATE to see me split on my best friends ngl

[rintinningvt]

Started watching the Bayverse movies with my besties and... Are we just too gay for these movies??? Admittedly we only finished the first two and got through a quarter of the third, but the second one was such a drag to sit through at times and it probably doesn't help that we do NOT care about Sam that much. I hope that there is a character arc for him in the rest of the third movie. Because so far he has not been fun to watch in that one. He just comes off as a slight manchild to me, like... I can see why he would be frustrated with where he is in life but the way he acts with others and lashes out does not help him in the slightest. I do have to admit though that seeing him go to Cybertronian Heaven in the second movie was the funniest part for me and my besties lol.

I'll just hope that the other guy in the next movies will be at least a bit more interesting. Doesn't even have to be a good guy, just an interesting guy for me lol

[hellooobees]

Thank you for answering my ask and thank you @sunsetsover for your addition!!

Such a good point about the emptiness of the pool and Style being laid almost completely bare in relation to his honesty with Fadel. Even when he had started actually lying he was repeatedly offering Fadel outs so that Fadel could confess to him about being an assassin. And also about kantbison's relationship involving a lot more deception but the one of the few instances of honesty being weaponised to put Kant to trial for the deception T_T

The point about the sets paralleling Fadel and Bison's intentions are so interesting too. "bison wants to hurt kant but he knows he can't, whereas fadel wants to want to hurt style and knows he can't. and those are two very different things." !!!!!!!!!! So well observed especially given how each scene ends? With Fadel and Style in the same car and on the same team, at least for now until Fadel finds his brother, he even stops pointing the gun at him and takes a nap in the car. With Kant having jumped off the boat into the ocean and Bison still on the boat calling after him.

I feel like there's also something here in relation to the pretty common tropes in BL of the escape to the beach and the underwater pool kiss? To me at least they read as escapes from the outside realities of the characters' lives and the external consequences of their feelings for each other, retreating into/finding refuge in their feelings. But here, at the empty pool and at the ocean, it is an extremely uncomfortable reveal of the truth, downright traumatic for one person. There is no refuge here for Fadel and Bison, they've been made to feel at their most vulnerable because of the hurt they've been caused and their trust being broken, and in response are at their most guarded and determined to not be blinded by their feelings anymore. Style and Kant who are at their most vulnerable but their declarations of love are being met with hostility. One of them is asked to shut up and the other is asked to prove it no matter how painful it is.

And sunsetsover's beautiful beautiful point of the water being a representation for want. Fadel wants the pool to stay empty so he asks Style to shut up. Bison wants his ocean but his want was used to hurt him and make him an accessory in hurting his brother too, so he asks Kant to jump in and prove that he wants it too. I've not stopped thinking about the phrase "prove to me you're willing to let it drown you the way it's drowning me" since I first read it and I doubt I'm going to stop soon.

Thank you so much again for both of your insights this has truly been so lovely <3<3

Hi!! What are your thoughts on the confrontations at the empty pool vs the ocean? Obviously the ocean is relevant to kant's past but the juxtaposition of the two is so interesting to me but I can't really figure out if that was just an aesthetic choice or if there's actually something to it.

Looking forward to your thesis about the boat scene!!

omg thank you for asking and i will absolutely be writing an in depth post about the boat scene probably later on cause it was sooo chock full of things and first kanaphan deserves every fucking award possible for that scene

i will say, i think when it comes to analyzing media, there are so few things that are done and chosen "just for aesthetic." i've had other people comment on that when i've talked about the religious imagery, and while yes, aesthetic is important in media and often times can be reason enough for directors and designers to choose them, i would say more often than not there is also meaning behind big choices like set. they put fadel and style in an empty pool for a reason, just as they put kant and bison on the boat for a reason.

now, the boat was likely a very obvious choice for bison because like you said, it's relevant to kant's past and kant told him on their first date that he was scared of the ocean. so, of course tying him up and putting him on a boat surrounded by water to confront him would be the exact sort of psychological torture bison would want to inflict on kant.

but when you compare it to fadel and style, i think it's also a way of representing openness, and in a way it's a representation of each couple.

because fadel confronts style in an empty pool, and he's stripped style almost completely naked. style is laid almost totally bare, and that's true in a literal sense as well as a metaphorical sense, because fadel knows he's a "snitch." and the thing about fadel and style is that while yes, there's been lies and deception there, style has also been very earnest in every way he can be. it was only more recently that he had to start lying for real, and even then he still sneaks in as much truth and openness with fadel as he possibly can. and it's exactly what he does here - even with a gun to his head and fadel telling him not to say he loves him, style still says it because it's true and style doesn't know how to be anything but open and honest with fadel.

and then when it comes to the bison and kant of it all, there's a lot more lies and deception. kant is not laid bare in the same way - bison even has him in essentially a costume by putting him in the patient scrubs. but at the center of it all is the fact that even with all the lies, even with the murky waters, kant has been honest with bison. he's been vulnerable with him. and that's how bison knows putting kant on a boat and telling him to jump overboard is the cruelest thing he could do to him. it's fair game to bison because of what kant did to him, but it also shows that even if bison thinks everything was a lie, there was always some amount of truth to it. because kant never had to give an assassin his biggest fear, but he did it anyways.

i also think the empty pool vs the ocean says a lot about bison and fadel's intentions in the scene, even on a subconscious level. i don't think fadel at any point planned to actually hurt style. maybe he told himself he would, but i think deep down he knew he would never be able to go through with it. so, he puts him in an empty pool where yeah, he can get hurt if he pushes style into it and he hits the floor of the pool, but those injuries likely won't be serious enough to kill him - and he won't drown.

whereas bison, despite likely also knowing he can't actually hurt kant himself, took him somewhere he could make kant do it for him. and even then, it's clear he regrets it as soon as kant hits the water, because he's calling out to him as soon as he jumps off, as if he didn't expect him to actually do it. bison wants to hurt kant but he knows he can't, whereas fadel wants to want to hurt style and knows he can't. and those are two very different things.

[crystalkitty1220]

Man I wonder where the leader of the fear realm could've gone, it's alMOST LIKE NEVIN HAS AN

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

I know this is probably a rhetorical question but I wanted to break down every interaction they've had in the show so I'm going to take this as an excuse to do it xD

Although I've rewatched and analysed these scenes for this, I haven't done a complete rewatch with this in mind so I can't guarantee that I won't have missed stuff. If anyone notices anything I've missed please feel free to add it!

Their first direct interaction is Morty saying he’ll forgive her for abandoning them if she lets him fly her ship (to which she agrees saying that she was just going to give him space cigarettes) in Star Mort Rickturn of the Jerri. This reminds me of the way Morty sometimes manipulates Rick to get things (e.g. to take Jerry on an adventure, to let him pick the adventure, to make him the video game style place saving device, to get Rick to buy him the sex robot), which makes sense since Space Beth 'cosplay[s] as [her] shitty father in his 30s'. Morty tends to be more honest/direct with Home Beth, even when he's upset with her (e.g. in A Rickconvenient Mort). It's also interesting that he went straight for the abandonment thing since he knows that had such a big impact on Beth. I wonder if he does have some negative feelings towards her for leaving? After all, he did witness Home Beth telling Rick that she relates to her family and not to Space Beth since Space Beth abandoned them all. He might be angry on Home Beth's behalf the same way he was in The Wedding Squanchers.

This one is more about Rick and Space Beth but Morty does join in on the argument about her trying to talk to them/use a good line in Solaricks. I can't think of an equivalent time he's done this with Home Beth, but he has similar reactions to Xenon Bloom, Jerry, and Rick when they make jokes in times of crisis. Also, I never noticed his thumbs down before but it's killing me lmao. It's one of those subtle moments of Morty's intelligence - he knows that Space Beth can't hear them so gives her an obvious visual signal, whereas Rick continues to try and speak. Of course, they both attempt to speak to her afterwards, but they are both dumbasses after all (affectionate). Can't win 'em all.

Interestingly, both Beths say Morty’s name and hug him when he and Rick return from the Prime dimension - there’s no real difference between their reactions. Home Beth seems more... surprised? Sheepish? Maybe because of her jealousy surrounding Summer's admiration of Space Beth she wasn't expecting Morty to hug her as well? I'm not sure exactly what emotion Space Beth's face means here. Maybe she's proud of him? Either way, she obviously does still love him and was worried about him.

In Bethic Twinstinct, Space Beth tells Morty ‘back off, little man’ when he says that she and Home Beth need to tell Jerry about their relationship. He's the only one who tells them directly what to do (Rick tells them to go ahead but that everyone knows and Summer just says that Jerry is oblivious), so that could be why, but I still find it interesting that she targets him specifically. Space Beth hasn't had a lot of the development Home Beth has with Morty but the most prominent example that comes to mind is A Rickconvenient Mort. That episode was not only a big moment for Home Beth trying to protect Morty and actually being there for him at the end, but it also showed her that Morty does know more than she gives him credit for about how people perceive him specifically. Morty's other outburst to Beth in The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy is about how Beth's actions affect Summer and we do see a marked difference in how Space Beth treats Summer and Morty. Space Beth realised that Summer's feelings matter and that she's not just a hormonal/irrational teenager, but she never had that moment with Morty, which makes sense with her patronising tone with him here. Since Beth blamed Diane for driving Rick away and got pregnant as a teenager, I can see why she would view teenagers as irrational/their feelings not really mattering. After all, she comes to understand both Diane and Rick's actions/choices a lot more in the series, and becoming a parent so young has been very hard on her. However, Home Beth has not only chosen the kids and Jerry, but is going to therapy, so she has a different view on this to Space Beth, who can just blame her teenage mistakes on her past self rather than her current self.

Space Beth is present in the Time and Tide montage in Fear No Mort but she’s more enthusiastic about Summer’s wedding and more restrained with him going to college (whereas Home Beth hugs him). I find it interesting that Space Beth and Jerry are grouped together in the graduation scene - they're both standing to the side while Home Beth and Summer hug Morty and join him in the photo. This does make sense when you consider that Jerry and pre-S4 Beth were most responsible for letting Rick hurt Morty, whereas Home Beth is putting in more effort now. Morty is also very protective of Summer and Beth in S1-S3 in particular so I wonder if they appreciate this and feel closer to him than Jerry and Space Beth do? I can't think of a time where Morty has been protective of Jerry specifically, and Space Beth is not only a lot more assertive but probably hasn't considered/realised how much Morty cares for his family and therefore doesn't appreciate it in the way that Summer and Home Beth do. This one is interesting since it's inside Morty's mind so it gives us a good idea of how Morty expects his parents to act. He knows that Jerry and Space Beth would be there physically, but lack an emotional connection.

I know we didn't see them interact onscreen but Space Beth did get Morty the Pooplickian Gamepod. It could've been a gift for both him and Summer, but it’s only Morty who’s present as he’s setting it up in the intro. Also, while Summer does join Rick and Morty while they're playing it before she starts using it as an escape, she's much more critical and disinterested. Even if it was intended as a joint present, it's definitely more up Morty's street and Space Beth would've known that.

Space Beth is also the one who says ‘bored of your toy already?’ when Morty and Rickbot return to the living room after they left with the light sabre. She is being patronising again, but it does show her understanding of Morty's interests - she's surprised that he would spend so little time with his new light sabre.

This isn't an interaction, but I find it interesting that Morty specifies that he and Summer have 'two badass moms now'. Even after everything, he still loves his mom - no matter which version of her. This reminds me of him telling Ethan that Beth is a good mom in The Whirly Dirly Conspiracy. He really does look up to Beth.

There's not a great deal to analyse about this line but it is a direct interaction between the two of them so I thought I should include it. Again, we have the framing of Jerry and Space Beth together and Summer, Morty and Home Beth together. In this scene, it matches their attitudes - while Space Beth and Jerry take an interest in the events, they're much more detached emotionally from the situation. Everyone else is standing while they remain sitting, showing a lack if care or urgency.

In conclusion, Morty loves Space Beth and thinks she's cool, but she still views him as a child and is emotionally distant, and he's aware of this. She also has a much more obvious favourite child, as we saw in Morty's Mindblowers, whereas Home Beth doesn't show as much favouritism. In many ways, Space Beth is S1-S3 Beth, whereas Home Beth is S4-present. However, that's not true, they're both S1-S3 Beth, and I wonder if Morty would find that fact hard to reconcile? With Rick, it's much more obvious that he is both the good and the bad moments/parts of himself since it's just him. With the two Beths, you can almost convince yourself that they couldn't have become the other. I wonder if it would hurt Morty to spend more time with Space Beth and be reminded of how his mom used to be, how she still is sometimes. Would he appreciate Home Beth's efforts more? Would he begin to resent Space Beth for not doing the same?

I would love a Space Beth and Morty episode. I think Home Beth is generally still very oblivious to what Morty goes through (look how shocked she is in The Jerrick Trap that Morty is selling drugs). However, Space Beth has spent enough time out in the galaxy that she must have a better grasp on the sorts of adventures Rick is taking Morty on. I also feel like she has a lot more resentment towards Rick, or at least is a lot more guarded towards him than Home Beth is, so it would be an interesting way to explore Morty’s feelings towards Rick to have them both angry at him - especially if Morty does run away. We’d also get to see more of Space Beth’s development and feelings towards Morty, which I think would be something cool to explore.

We could even have a conflict between the Beths where Home Beth is angry at Space Beth for taking Morty somewhere dangerous or letting him do something inappropriate but Space Beth points out that he does it (and much worse) all the time with Rick.

Honestly though, I mainly just want to see Morty and Space Beth having a cool adventure.

[moonmoonthecrabking]

"kitty's feelings for yuri came out of nowhere" it was set up better in the show than when i realised i had crushes on girls in real life

[ethanhuntfemmefatale]

after seventh watch i am thinking about a theory that came to mind today re ethan's particular kind of power over claire. and the idea was that for a character who is very anti-masculine, ethan tends to lean into masculine stereotypes the most in relation to claire--action hero stuff, protectiveness and strength--but after watching the movie i don't totally feel like this is the case? Anyway what Is textual is that in the rare moments when ethan is framed as imposing, he's usually interacting with claire. Thinking here specifically of the hand kiss scene, which is among the most viscerally fucked up scenes i've ever seen in a piece of media, and one of the things that makes it so uncomfortable to watch is the way that ethan is framed. The way his shadow falls over her when he opens the door, and she's lying on the ground, and he stands over her....given that this is a scene where ethan's deeply suspicious that she has been lying to him and manipulating him, it's pretty fascinating that the scene is so thoroughly set up to frame ethan as threatening. anyway it's 3 am so i can't really express this coherently but im thinking about it

[aikoiya]

Oh, don't even get me started! It was so good! Though, my mom also made a sort of mocha bundt cake with chopped pecans & walnuts. It wasn't as chocolatey or moist as my aunt’s Texas sheet cake, but goodness if it didn’t get close! (I actually got the recipe for that one & thought of 1 or 2 ways to improve it! 😃)

You know what? Fair. Totally understandable. I do love the whole happy Zelink ending. It's always nice when we get that.

True, the tragic end very much isn't SS’ intended vibe, but in a way, that makes the idea even more tragic. Though, I feel like bringing up the unfairness of the situation is a bit moot because life's never really been fair. It sure as heck wasn't fair that Sky & Sun had to deal with so much. Likewise, it also wasn't fair that Hylia had to sacrifice so much, die, & give up her godhood in the process. It's also not fair that most of the time that Impa got to spend with Sun was so hecktic.

Still, when you view it from the perspective of the player, I can see why you say it. At the same time, this all takes place behind the scenes as subtext. Similarly, I think it's not quite right that this other Zelda wouldn’t have a happy ending, just that she wouldn't have the one she'd wanted, making it more bittersweet than the ending in the game. Which is pretty endemic of life, in-general, I think. Not to mention, could be a very good lesson to players that not everything is going to work out how you hoped, but that doesn't mean that you can't find happiness.

It's entirely possible that Sun ended up living a good life. Possibly marrying a nice Sheikah gentleman (heck, reaincarnation is still a thing, so he might've even be Sky's previous incarnation; 2000+ years is a pretty long time), having kiddos, spending real time with Impa until they form a sisterhood. And, honestly, maybe that's the point? Look at things from this other Sun's perspective & keep in mind her tendency towards martyrdom. Not only that, the fact that she seems to love just being Link's Zelda, herself.

So, if there were 2 Suns & 1 not only wasn't aware of the other, but also had a chance at that happy ending they both wanted, what do you suppose the other Sun would do? Because in this case, there was really only 2 options: Reveal herself to the pair, thereby complicating things for all 3 of them, embittering their ending unnecessarily, & making things awkward or hiding herself from them so that at least one Zelda gets her happy ending.

I mean, true. But it's confirmed that Farore is the Goddess of Wind in WW & I'm pretty sure that in the OoT beta, the statue of the Goddess of the Sand was Din (however, the Zelda encyclopedia instead calls the statue of an evil deity, but both the statue being Din & the statue being of an evil deity, should be taken with a grain of salt). Though, even if that weren't the case, I feel like it's a bit strange to try & limit a fictional deity to a singular domain, besides what is time if not giving order to events so that they make sense?

It's possible that Hylia is the Goddess of Time, but I'll go over the points, too.

True! Though, I wasn't so much meaning the Gate of Time (that is very clearly related to Hylia), but instead the giant blue blocks from OoT that you use the Song of Time to get rid of. And the light that shows up when you use the song on them. Both are very blue. So, I dunno… I guess it's complicated, ya know?

True, can't argue with that. Though, it's very possible that the Ocarina of Time & the hilt of the Master Sword are both made of Timeshift Stones, which, similarly, also shines blue. Something to also keep in mind is that those stones showed up in the Lanayru region, which was where Nayru's Flame & its dragon guardian had been. Not to mention, the gears that showed up to turn the Gate of Time were also blue & so was the inside of the Gate.

Mmm… But what does “from the edge of time” even mean? Like, I know what it says, but it seems just vague enough that she could either be literal… Or poetic. And considering… Just… the flipping Isle of Songs… Yeah, girl was a theater kid, just sayin’. So, I'd legit give it 50/50 odds for either.

True.

Ah… Question. Could you explain more what you mean by a new timeline? Do you mean, literally creating a new timeline or just… placing a pebble in the stream to create a new path? Because, I was always under the impression that Lullaby just sent Time back in time to some vague point before having obtained the Zora Sapphire using the Song of Time. If so, then that’s not necessarily sending him to a new timeline until Link, himself, then changed the course of events of his own accord. Like, to me, that’s a lot more simple than sending him to a literal new timeline, much less creating a new one. Like… how would that work? Making a copy of a timeline or something? Wouldn't that essentially be the same as recreating reality from its very foundation on her own & controlling the events up to the point she wanted him to go back to? But without the aid of the other goddesses, thereby suggesting that she's more powerful than the Golden Three combined? I mean, she could've probably done it had she used the Triforce, but you'd think there'd be an indication of it had she done so. It just seems easier to simply send Link a bit further back in time, but that's just me.

Again, true & I can’t find an argument for the complexity of Hylia's plans.

See, now, I actually think it wouldn’t be very restrictive at all as it very much depends on what you consider “order” & “time” to be. For one, it’s never really specified what sort of time, so she could be the goddess of cyclical time, linear time, opportune time, foresight, ect. Or, perhaps all are under her domain & Hylia could’ve been a goddess of foresight or history. For example, Greek mythology has 3 different time deities: Aion, Cronus, & Kairos. All three are time deities. However, they each represent different sorts of time. Aion was the manifestation of cyclical time; the phenomenon of history repeating itself. Cronus was a god of linear time; a progression of events from point a to point b & then c. Finally, Kairos was a god of opportune time or simply timing. So,

Something of specific interest, Tingle once states in Wind Waker that Farore is the Goddess of Wind, so in my mind, this means that the Golden Goddesses all likely have other domains besides the ones associated with the Triforce. Which would absolutely make sense considering that the same is true IRL.

And you're fine! I don’t mind.

Well, to be fair, we don't know if Talon was always so lazy. It's possible that he'd been more Sonic lazy in that he loved to relax & laze about & may even have had a tendency to procrastinate, but when it was actually time to work, buddy WORKED!! (Which is a lot like my own dad. That man knows how to work & work hard, especially at his job, but when he's at home, he's fairly lazy.) Who knows? Maybe losing his wife caused him to lose a part of himself?

Though, I do think that Talon probably inherited the ranch.

Sidenote: Something I recently learned, “Mabe” is the name of a type of Japanese freshwater pearl. I just found that interesting. I'm also renaming the Hylian villages to fall more in-line with the local languages I have for them. So, they'll have 2 names: 1 in their native tongue & one in Hyrulean Common. Like how the local Italian name for Venice is Venezia. I haven't finished them all yet, but I'm liking it so far.

Right?! If nothing else, I'd imagine that a Roc's Feather would at least give their flaps more lift.

Ooo! You're right! Different races of Researchers would be a cool idea! I wonder what sort of tech would be brought in? And, to be honest, having more scientists would allow them to work on more things even without the main Researchers paying attention!

Fair. I guess that you just said, “assassins” & my lizard brain automatically went: assassins → ninjas → Sheikah, so my bad. But dang, that sounds cool! It'd also be a good idea to send in the Sheikah warriors when a Yiga Base is especially fortified. So, they'd be used as undercover agents or something.

Thank you!!

And I know, right?? I am still bent outta shape over not getting legit pirates! Like, it wasn't just Lurelin that teased the idea, either. There was also that one lady at the East Akkala Stable, I think, who was super worried over it & the pirates on Eventide Island. Like... The ideas were interesting, but I would've loved to see some actual brigands!

Hmmm! This is an interesting idea! Though, the problem is that I can't really call a baybed a “yard,” now can I? (Or is the literal translation of vignoble supposed to mean "noble vine?") Clos might work. As, from what I understand, a clos is a walled vineyard, so I could approximate the fields that the sea-grapes grow on as an aquatic clos or “aquaticlos” if that isn't too terribly horrible of an idea. Because, one of the problems with building up a fantasy culture that isn't like our own is that you suddenly need to put yourself in their shoes.

For instance, I’ve recently begun to look up a lot in regards to algaes & halophytic crops in order to workshop a realistic agriculture for the Zora. So, to me, this would indicate that for the Sea Zora, sea-grapes likely came before the terrestrial vine grapes that we tend to automatically think of when we hear the word “grapes.” As a result, I think the word "raisins” would more naturally be used in reference to sea-grapes & like how, IRL, “raisins de mer,” refers to sea-grapes, I wouldn't be surprised if a more realistic depiction of the Zora would have them calling Refreshing Grapes, “Raisins de Terre Potentio” or “Terraisins Potentio” rather than just “Raisins Potentio.”

That, or the word for grapes that they use is “Raizins” & “Raisins” would be a newer term coined specifically for the grapes that grow ashore.

(Sorry, I'm always worried about butchering another culture's language. Because while a bit of linguistic difference is very plausible when talking about a different universe, I still want to remain faithful to the spirit of that language. So, my apologies if it feels like I'm taking advantage. 😥)

And, you’re welcome! But, don’t think it’s just outta the goodness of my heart. I also actually enjoy helping people iron out these sorts of things.

@aikoiya The post was getting too long so I’m replying here, hope that’s okay! If anyone is looking for the beginning of this discussion, it's here.

Your extended pantheon is amazing! I just knew that Gàlondo would end up being Demise haha. I'd say I prefer not to associate Demise with any race in particular (and the Gerudo already have quite a heavy burden with Ganondorf), but otherwise I like that backstory you came up with. So what's Hylia's role in your version then if he’s the guardian of the Triforce? I'm curious ^^

I'd say my reasoning isn't so much "I hate this" but rather "this doesn't make sense/contradicts something else" or "previous games did this better". I also want to show that it's still possible to create stories without ignoring everything that was established previously because to me this idea that the timeline is too restrictive doesn't stand. In fact I tend to believe being a bit restricted and working inside a frame can trigger more creativity (after all they did wild stuff like flooding Hyrule before and it fits perfectly in the timeline). I also would prefer to see the existing lore extended or clarified instead of them adding new confusing stuff and leaving it extremely vague.

Oh I LOVE your Outset Timeline!! Though the ending is indeed very bittersweet. It always makes me so happy when someone else points out the inconsistencies in Skyward Sword's story. That's exactly my reasoning for my fourth timeline, it exists because of Ghirahim and Link's victory over Demise in the distant past. Though you are right, adding a timeline split while keeping the Master Sword in the official timeline requires some gymnastics! At the moment I'm going with a lazy theory about the Sealed Temple being the future Temple of Time, so the Temple's magic somehow allows the Master Sword to exist in both timelines (I said it was lazy haha). Impa’s bracelet is another story though. In my timeline the Goddess Sword is also left untouched in Skyloft because Skyward Sword doesn't happen, which could be useful in case someone accidentally broke the actual Master Sword 😁 It's very intriguing to me that Sky left the sword in the past when he had no reason to (and it shouldn't even be possible since it's in the exact same spot as Zelda's crystal). It's probably just a mistake on Nintendo's part but I like to think there could be something else there, and that Fi had a reason to stay in the past.

About the DLC items the thing is that most sets are found in the Depths in random Zonai chests if I remember correctly, or in the coliseums, and there was no explanation as to how they got there. In Misko's little shrines we find the Fierce Deity set and the LA set, but also the barbarian armor, the shock-resistant outfit and the climbing gear. I can understand building shrines for the Fierce Deity or LA Link following what you said, but then for three random armor sets? Not to mention that Link already owned them in BotW, so making us look for them a second time was kind of a joke. I like this shintai/yorishiro idea, but I think it would work a lot better if there were only a few items to collect and not… the outfits of all the Links ever INCLUDING WILD'S (how!!). It feels really meaningless and more like a catalogue for you to choose from so you can look like your favorite Link (which is a bit insulting to Wild, you can just replace him at this point and go as far as changing his hair or even his entire appearance with the LA set). I also didn't really believe they were the actual items from past games, it made no sense (the same way Link wouldn't actually wear a red Nintendo Switch t-shirt or something from Xenoblade). It just really felt like fanservice.

The dictionary thing might help, but I think the story should be explicit enough on its own and I don't really want to study Buddhism/Shintoism in depth so that I can play Zelda games and understand what's happening haha. I mean of course it's fine if knowing a bit about it adds new context and all, but if you can't understand things like malice vs. gloom without it then I think it's a bit of a problem. Speaking of Fujibayashi I feel like this wasn't really an issue before he was in charge.

Yes the French translation for Demise is very misleading, that's another problem: depending on your language things are sometimes interpreted very differently.

I really like the English names for the three dragons, I think they're so much better than what we got in French. Nedrac, Ordrac and Rhordrac, really?? At first I didn't even understand the link with the Goddesses, and then the last two sound way too similar. Btw I remember from my very basic Japanese courses that it's common in Japanese to create new words by mixing a few syllables of other words together. For example "rimokon" means remote controller (remo + con), or there's the well known Pokemon = pocket monsters. So naturally we end up with stuff like Ordinn + dragon etc.

I thought as well about the dragons going by names given to them by mortals instead of their true names. The thing is, I don't really want to create new names because I'm already changing so many things and my timeline stuff can be a bit complicated, so I need to keep at least a few things familiar. And I really like Dinraal, Farosh and Naydra :D

I agree about Farore being more associated to wind and plants than thunder (I mean she's kind of Link's patron goddess and he has nothing to do with thunder). What's even more confusing in BotW/TotK is that the Gerudo are now also related to thunder for some reason, but they're definitely more Din than Farore in my mind.

Maybe I should give you some context about my dragons haha. The beginning of my story is quite similar to TotK, though I still made some changes. Ganondorf completely destroys the Master Sword, Link looses his arm (except here Rauru isn't there to replace it), and Zelda still travels through time (but not because of a Secret Stone since I got rid of everything Zonai). She arrives in ancient Hyrule one century after Sky killed Demise (because this is set in my alternate timeline), and she's stuck there so she needs to find a way back home. Before that she learns a lot about SS, the Triforce, the timeline split and Hyrule's past. After meeting various characters and most importantly Sonia (who's still a priestess, the Sage of Time and her ancestor), Zelda learns that this era has two Master Swords: the one left by Sky in the Sealed Temple, and the Goddess Sword that is still somewhere above the clouds. She understands then that she needs to retrieve the Goddess Sword in Skyloft and forge a second Master Sword in order to help her Link in the future, and to do so she needs the three Sacred Flames. Where are the flames? The dragons "swallowed" them since they weren't needed anymore after Sky left his own Master Sword, which turned them into the giant immortal dragons we see in BotW/TotK. So that's Zelda's quest: find a way to go to Skyloft and then get the dragons to lend her their power. Along the way she'll also meet the ancient Sages, who can help her return to her own time by using the Triforce (but of course this won't work because of Ganondorf, and Link will have to fight him in the present and bring her back himself).

I'm trying to make this both a story I could adapt in comic form and something that could work as a game. The idea is that Zelda's memories would be playable sequences with places to explore, fights and maybe even mini-dungeons and bosses. And of course there's an entire story for Link as well. At the moment I'm trying to come up with interesting arcs and quests for each race/Sage, both in the past and the present.

Anyway, that's why I'm so focused on the dragons. Zelda (and Link) will need their help and they will talk this time. And since they will remember being apointed by Hylia and they're supposed to absorb their respective sacred flames, I need things to make sense. This is also a timeline without climate change in Lanayru (here it's the same province as in BotW with the addition of Mount Lanayru and a good part of central Hyrule), so the thunder dragon has no business being up there. That's why the swap would make sense.

No need to apologise! I appreciate your perspective and that you're interested enough to share your own ideas! :D

I agree on Zelda's magic being her own and what you said makes sense! Love the part about her only thinking about how she's a failure (though I guess it's only natural if she's been trying for 10 years without result). I don't know if she would have had the same reaction had she witnessed her father's death though. AoC isn't canon but Zelda doesn't unlock her power when Rhoam "dies" in front of her and Link forces her to run. The memory where's she's crying in Link's arms in BotW also shows that she knows everyone is dead, it's even possible that she saw some of it happen (maybe in the same way as AoC for Rhoam, or they saw what happened to the Divine Beasts from afar). I guess they must also have seen some terrible things on the roads, so she could have unlocked her power trying to save her people. But it only happened when Link was about to die.

Haha yes, I'm probably one of the most obsessed Zelink shipper there is and even I can't stand that power of love trope. It really has no place in a LoZ game. In my headcanon Zelda wouldn't access her power only because of her love for Link, though it definitely helps, but rather because the Hero dying is kind of an emergency situation and would trigger her divine magic even if the necessary conditions were not met. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone but me though 😆

Yeah I'm okay with the women of the royal family having some sort of power though not as powerful as Zelda. I think some part of it could also be attributed to their Sage of Time abilities. And the gift of prophecy being inherited from Sky is such a cute idea!!

I don't know about Terrako, I only remember that Zelda built it when she was just a child?

I'd send you an ask to rant about TotK but I'm not sure about the character limit and I fear it would just turn into a second wall of text haha! Here are some thoughts:

– I could live with new lore that contradicts older games, if only things made sense and were sufficiently fleshed out. Then I could just enjoy the story and accept that this is a different continuity. But here everything is so vague and sometimes even confusing. Like if we're going to meet the Zonai and make them such central figures in Hyrule's history, then I want to know more about them and learn about their culture. What's the point if we're only going to see two of them and have no clue about how they created all that technology, mined the Depth, lived with the Hylians, and then disappeared? Same for ancient Hyrule: if the different tribes were at war, I want to see it, and I want to learn more about them. Ganondorf also had so much potential for an interesting backstory. What kind of king is he? How did the Gerudo feel about him becoming the Demon King? What about the Gerudo Sage? And so on. It feels like this could be so much more.

– Other things I would love to see explained: where is the Master Sword in ancient Hyrule and why does no one seem to know anything about it or the Hero? How does it travel through time to reach Zelda? What about Rauru and Sonia's descendants? Also what was the point of the fake Zelda, and why did Ganondorf stay in his bathtub the entire game instead of rehydrating himself right away and getting stuff done? There's also everything I said about the secret stones the other day, but I know you don't see it as a problem ^^ (Also I just rewatched the memories and I had completely forgotten what Rauru tells Zelda in front of Sonia's grave: "Remember, that was a future where you never appeared in this world". So does this mean this is a new timeline that kind of retcons BotW? If not then where did all the Sheikah tech go and how were the shrines replaced by the Zonai ones? I really need an explanation for all of that!!)

– The game also barely mentions what happened in BotW, except for the history class about the Calamity in Hateno, the statues in Zora's Domain, and the memorials left by Zelda to honor the dead. I wanted to see Hyrule starting to rebuild and to get some sort of follow-up on the story. Did Link regain all his memories? Was Zelda planning to take the throne? Does she have some sort of trauma after her century-long battle against Ganon at Hyrule Castle? Why does she react to Ganondorf's name, but doesn't link him to Calamity Ganon? Why did the Sheikah tech that was so central in BotW disappear, especially the Divine Beasts? I care about this world and its characters, I want it to feel like a real place and to see it evolve. But then stuff like this really reminds you that this is just a video game world, and that Nintendo doesn't really seem to care. And if things can be retconned any moment even in a direct sequel, then… why should I feel invested?

– There was a real waste of potential with the Light Dragon and Zelda just transforming back thanks to Rauru and Sonia (btw couldn't they have helped if they could appear anytime and still had that kind of power?). I find it so disappointing that Link doesn't have to do anything to help Zelda, it almost happens by accident. Mineru also said it was irreversible, but in the end it's no big deal (they shouldn't establish something and then ignore it like that). If only Link had to use the Triforce or something. I didn't want Zelda to stay a dragon but sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't have been a better ending.

– It also really doesn't help that Link feels so disconnected from the main story. In BotW he was also experimenting the story through flashbacks but at least they were his own memories and they fleshed out his relationship with Zelda and the other Champions. Here Zelda is the one experimenting the best part of the story, and to make it worse you can find the memories in any order and get badly spoiled. It could have been so cool if Link also time traveled at some point and could explore ancient Hyrule (and they could have done something crazy like Link and Zelda being the ones to seal Ganondorf in the past, which would lead to his transformation into Calamity Ganon). Link is also so expressionless (except when cooking and all) that I find it hard to care when he doesn't seem to. Imagine how different Zelda sealing herself would feel in Skyward Sword if Sky didn't act so distraught. In the same way TotK would hit a lot harder if Link did stuff like falling to his knees after seeing Zelda's last memory.

– I also think that the hands/cooperation theme the devs talked about in interviews is a bit weak and cliché (with characters reminding Link and Rauru that they don't have to do things alone and that they're stronger together, stuff like that). First I don't find it very interesting compared to what games such as OoT, MM or Wind Waker did, and then Link being able to fight Ganondorf alone from the start kind of throws it out the window (and Rauru also ends up sealing Ganondorf on his own). The Sages are not even with Link outside of the dungeons, they just create creepy copies of themselves (and I found them so annoying I never activated them, except for Tulin when flying). But yeah sure they shake hands and vow to help Link. I still think him being accompanied by the Champion's spirits in BotW worked a lot better, and their powers were also more useful. I guess seeing everyone working together to rebuild Hyrule would have made that theme more meaningful. The thing I really liked about this though was Link finally catching Zelda in the end after failing at the beginning of the game, that was a really beautiful scene.

– Also I said it above but I don’t want everything to be explained by Buddhism/Shintoism parallels, especially if the game just expects you to get it without providing context. Let Hyrule be it’s own thing.

So I know this isn't only about lore, but these are the main reasons why I'm not very interested in TotK. To sum up I'd say that the game lacks some kind of depth and has a lot of wasted potential, and it also makes it clear that it's pointless to care about continuity. BotW Hyrule was interesting and I think a lot of things could have been done about existing races instead of adding a new one but not bothering to do much with it. Just bringing Ganondorf back in this version of Hyrule and see how the Gerudo react to him could be so interesting!! Some concepts were also excellent but didn't really go anywhere, like the Depths and the Sky Islands.

Honestly I haven't thought about all these side quests and minor characters yet, I'm still trying to sort things out with the main story ^^ But I don't think I'll touch the ones you mentioned, they were fine. I liked the thing with the Eighth Heroine as well, I've seen a lot of people complaining about it but it's one of the only things in the game I actually found interesting. I just can't unsee the parallel with Link and the Seven Sages (of course).

What I'll be doing for sure is making some of the quests and events more serious, I'm kind of aiming for a darker tone. Most of the quests are quite fun (especially the "potential princess sightings" ones), but I feel like this game really lacks some sense of danger and urgency. For example couldn't the people in Hateno have more pressing problems than making cheese or choosing between Cece and Reede? Or was it really a good idea to make lighthearted little quests about misanderstandings with Zelda when her disappearance should be driving Link mad? (I should have included that in my little rant above haha)

I'd also love to make the pirates in Lurelin something more interesting than just a bunch of Bokoblins, but I'm not there yet. And rebuilding the exact same village was kind of meh.

About the Gerudo questioning their traditions, I'm actually planning for my Ganondorf to be a lot more active and go to Gerudo Town in order to meet his people (I want him to care about them, so he wouldn't attack them the same way he targets the others). I don't have all the details yet but I'm pretty sure there will be a conflict between Riju's supporters and other Gerudo who believe he's their rightful ruler (at first they wouldn't know he's actually that one king who turned into Calamity Ganon). So that's another tradition for them to question.

The consequences of Ganondorf being the only Gerudo male are something I've been wondering about as well. Add to that the fact that he's raised to be king because he's male (and maybe even kind of worshiped by his people) and you get something that can turn nasty real quick. Though I also wonder if Gerudo aren't different from Hylians. You said you hc that the Gerudo are only women because they were cursed so it makes sense that you would view it this way, but on my part I believe that's just how they were created. For that reason I think this is natural for them, so it's possible that it doesn't cause exactly the same problems it would for us or for Hylians.

About Demise, yes of course Ganondorf is more than just Demise's hatred. But in this game it doesn't seem to matter, he kind of turns into a second Demise as soon as he gets his secret stone and his motivations instantly go from conquering/ruling to destroying everything and everyone. They could have done something a lot more nuanced or at least shown a more gradual transition, with him being more and more consumed by his hatred and loosing control for example. I don't know, anything that would look less like a comically caricatural villain riding a demon unicorn.

Also about Demise's curse, I always thought it sounded more like a warning than an actual curse, and I remember reading somewhere that this was the intention in the original Japanese text. In French Demise even says something like "you must never forget, history will repeat itself" instead of "I will rise again", and he and speaks of the curse of the demon tribe (implying that it existed before). Even in English it doesn't sound like Demise himself is casting a curse: "Those like you… Those who share the blood of the Goddess and the spirit of the Hero… They are eternally bound to this curse". He doesn't say "I curse you" or "I bound you to this curse". I feel like this makes a difference (the curse already exists). This is why I interpret it as him basically saying that evil will not die with him and that Link and Zelda/the Hylians as a whole will always have to fight the demon tribe, but not necessarily his reincarnation. So I don't even believe that Demise himself is influencing Ganondorf in any way.

About the Zonai Zelda explains she studied them at the beginning of TotK and recognizes what's depicted on the murals, so it seems strange that sky beings could get mixed with a tribe of barbarians living in the woods. But yeah history getting lost and mixed is the only explanation for this.

Oh you're completely right about the Mogma, I got the same vibe from them! And a Mogma mafia sounds hilarious ^^ I love the Rocktato, Link would definitely eat something like that 😆

I need to take some time to read through your master list, it all looks very promising!

[astrxealis]

leveilleur twins favorite twins best twins no competition

[arolesbianism]

There's smth rly fun abt having stories based off of dreams because you just have a bunch of dream based worldbuilding that you just sorta have to work with now. Like oh a ring of infinite dragons run through the earth eternally consuming eachother? Guess I have to explain that now. Also that's sick as hell why didn't I think of that while awake

[cabeswaterdrowned]

not saying I will actually write this but inspired by before I fall if I did write a Gansey’s death loop fic who should be stuck in the time loop; Gansey himself, Blue, or both Blue and Adam?

(I dismissed Adam only as an option because I’ve read a fic about the same concept thought it was done beautifully don’t think I have a better take on it.)

[whoslaurapalmer]

mannnnn nobody has a laugh like sydney greenstreet. I love his laugh so so much

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

one way; cbg

part i | part ii | part iii

🖊️⇝ pairing; afab!reader x beomgyu

🖊️⇝ word count; 17.3k

🖊️⇝ genre; enemies 2 lovers, smut, & angst

🖊️⇝synopsis; things have gotten much more complicated in a relationship that spawned from simplicity

🖊️⇝ warnings; thoughts of suicide and murder, brief descriptions of gore, PIV, balls in mouth, lots of kissing, not super smut heavy, manipulation, betrayal, descriptions of depression, assault (the usual), passionate sex, the l bomb

📜⇝ aw man, this is very BITTERsweet. Idk how I feel about this. Ask me in a week and I'll either love or hate it. I didn't go into part one expecting to flesh out their relationship, so please forgive me if this long awaited finale doesn't reach your expectations. I am happy to finally say it's finished though!!

You didn’t remind Beomgyu of anyone. Maybe before you started having sex, that’s why he was so sure. He felt like he was experiencing deja vu from how similar you were to those groupies. Just awkward, quirky, and harmless. You’re only here to do your job and just happened to become friends with this celebrity. The romantic feelings that developed, oh those are to be expected. Of course you fell in love! But if another handsome, famous fella came around and was willing… that love is suddenly conditional.

But then you were letting Beomgyu bite your lip and rip your clothes off, you were shoving your tongue down his throat and letting him fuck you in every conceivable position. While still remaining kind and loyal to Soobin.

You were even open about the things Beomgyu did to you. You didn’t care how it made you look or if it would scare the others off. You didn’t present it as this passionate sexy moment, but the clumsy and somewhat comical situation it was. You were comfortable with them. Letting them see the real you even if it wasn’t exactly attractive. Maybe Beomgyu was wrong about you.

Then he’d catch these glimpses. Moments where he really saw Hyesoo in you. Everyone would be laughing and then suddenly you’d bring up a recent accomplishment of Soobin’s. It seemed weird to shift mid-conversation to boost him up. But when Beomgyu looked around, no one else saw anything wrong with it. He was hyper analyzing you and he was trying to stop. It was hard not to think about Hyesoo period, but with a new woman cozied up in their dorm it was even harder.

When you’d hit Soobin’s arm while laughing, buy only him snacks and drinks, laugh at his jokes harder than anyone else, fall asleep with your head on his shoulder. No matter how much he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t stop thinking you were buttering him up. Locking him in.

Here he was, staying up until 5 am dwelling on every thought that enters his brain. He lays stagnant in your bed, staring at the ceiling but really at nothing at all. His head flops to the side and he catches a glimpse of your peaceful expression. His eyes track down to your arms curled around his bicep. He looks back up at the ceiling with a lengthy sigh. 

He needs to leave.

It started with him staying a little longer to eat up the food in your fridge. You staying to chat with some of the guys. Him staying to help clean up the vase that fell and shattered during your ministrations. You staying to clean yourself off and mentioning that maybe he should bring by a few spare items of clothing in case he wants to shower at your place. Now both of you have clothes at the other’s house and he’s spending the night.

He could dwell on everything he should or shouldn’t be doing right now or he could stop fighting how the warmth of your presence is lulling him to sleep.

–🖊️⇝

Beomgyu wakes up in the absence of your warmth. If his memory serves him correctly, you’re off to practice by now. He can’t help feeling pathetic as everyone rushes off to their duties while he lounges around. He only has one month left of his suspension before he’s back on the grind. He wants to just enjoy it, but the loneliness of it all after years of constantly being surrounded by hoards of people was undeniably crushing. The people he does see are usually rushing around before leaving him in an empty house.

He slumps out of your room and is hit with the scent of freshly made toast. He spots you in the kitchen, rushing around with a piece of toast dangling from your teeth. Upon seeing Beomgyu your eyes widen, brows raising as you prompt him.

“D’you like butter on your toast? Actually, don’t say anything, I’m doing it.” Your speech is muffled until you take a bite and set the piece down. When Beomgyu finally reaches the kitchen he sees you sloppily slathering butter onto two extra pieces of toast. You place them on a small plate before pushing it toward him. You quickly steal another bite of your toast before scowling at him. “You better not leave a mess for me to clean up.”

Once you finish chewing you’re still maintaining eye contact with Beomgyu. He stares intently, and you wonder if he’s still groggy from just waking up. Then his eyes break away to the state of your hair. He gives another second of thought before sweeping the unruly strands into place.

“You’re going outside, where people will see you.” He tsks.

“Said people should mind their business.” You punctuate by tearing off a chunk of your toast, maintaining eye contact pointedly. You throw the matching jacket to your sweatpants over your shoulder. “Lock my door before you leave!”

As the door shuts, the sound echoing through the now empty apartment, Beomgyu feels hyper aware of how much empty space surrounds him where he stands. The loneliness looms over him, a reminder no matter where he goes. He may joke around, but Beomgyu tries not to whine about his problems. It feels especially inappropriate since you were in this same situation, bound to this apartment with a suddenly empty schedule. But for you, you weren’t sure if you were getting fired or worse, getting stuck in the dungeon for years with no end in sight. 

He thinks about that the entire time he stays within your walls. Where you stood, sat, and lied in limbo. From the couch, he glances over at the spot he found you lying in the day after you wrecked your house. A dark, malicious feeling crawls up his spine and he squirms. Staying in your house was already confusing for him, but with this feeling of what… guilt? He had nothing to feel guilty over. He was protecting his members.

Either way, it was overwhelming. He leaves your home, locking it on the way out. His dorm had his things. He can play video games all day until his eyes dry out. It was undeniably unfulfilling, despite it being what he craved since his trainee years. It felt as empty as his home.

He intentionally has his headphones only over one ear so he can hear when the door clicks open. It’s too quiet to be more than one member. Whatever, he’ll take what he can get. He leaves the game lobby, throwing his headphones off and rushing out of his room. When his eyes are met with blonde hair he stops in his tracks. Soobin silently regards him, not sparing him an ounce of emotion as he makes his way to the fridge. He grabs a soda, pops it open, and throws it back. Beomgyu waits patiently, he needs the interaction and Soobin has to give up this silent treatment at some point.

Soobin empties the can and tosses it, a silent conflict bleeding through his indifference to Beomgyu’s presence. Both men stand in silence, Beomgyu surveying each twitch in Soobin’s expression.

Soobin grits his teeth, hoping if he squeezes hard enough this aggravating feeling flaring up will pass. “You know what really pisses me off?” He snaps once he fails.

The relief he expected doesn’t come. There’s a pang of anxiety creeping up his spine in its place. “That I’m mean to your friend-”

“That I have a feeling this is all about that situation you refuse to talk about.” Soobin immediately shoots down his quip, sparing none of his valuable time for Beomgyu’s antics. Soobin finds that new trials and tribulations rear their ugly head just when he thought he’d gotten used to them. Recently Beomgyu has been one huge trial. He hasn’t been a good leader when dealing with this but Beomgyu is also his friend and roommate. Is he not allowed to just be upset by the actions of someone so close to him? Physically and emotionally?

When he looks over at Beomgyu it’s clear from the look on his face that he’s still not going to engage. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Letting out a lengthy sigh, he decides it’s time to abandon his personal grievances for now.

“You slept over at her house?”

Finally, it felt like someone was clamping their hands around his throat. “What, are you jealous or something?” He melts back into his usual self.

“I’m your leader.” Why does he even remind him anymore? It’s becoming increasingly apparent that the title means nothing to him.

“Yeah, you love reminding me of that fact when it’s convenient but it doesn’t apply here.” Getting his fill of interaction, he leaves the kitchen in favor of the living room. “It’s none of your business.”

“It became my business when you got in trouble. You’re on suspension, Beomgyu.” Yet again reminding him of something he clearly doesn’t care about. At least, he thinks he doesn’t until Beomgyu stops. His back is turned toward Soobin but he can still tell that it got to him.

Beomgyu no longer feels isolated but he does feel trapped again. Like the exits are too far away for him to escape and he’s forced to face this. “I don’t blame you for not speaking to the therapist they provide us with the risk of your confessions being reported, but if you tell me what’s going on we can figure this out. I’m also your friend, Beomgyu. You can talk to me.” He says softly, jumping at the chance of an opening.

This is the same guy he would laugh with until it physically hurt but he still couldn’t stop. The one who’d sneak him extra food as trainees. He’s a lovable dork who has proved on so very many occasions that he cares about each and every one of his members. Beomgyu can see it, he can feel it whipping around in the air. Soobin is right and he’s being stubborn again. It’s like the walls are closing in and pushing him closer to Soobin’s hurt but hopeful eyes. Beomgyu shuts his own.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Before Beomgyu can see the full transition of his expression he whips around, making his way to his room.

“Really? You’re still gonna pretend nothing is wrong?!” Soobin’s increase in volume is ignored as Beomgyu slams the door behind him.

–🖊️⇝

Tomorrow is Beomgyu’s last day in suspension. Yeonjun proposed they throw a party, just another excuse for Yeonjun to party. He invites anyone whose schedule is free which turns out to be a surprising amount of people. Friendly Yeonjun knows pretty much everyone in this generation and some from previous ones. This once empty building waiting to be bought was filled wall to wall with idols, models, and actors. 

Everyone notable in Beomgyu’s life saw the suspension as a no-touch subject that dampened the mood, except for you of course, the delightful person you are. Here? People are coming up to him with a tone that can only be described as vengeful.

“HYBE seems like such tight asses. You guys should ditch that place and come sign with KQ.” Hongjoong delivers a solid pat to Beomgyu’s back as he guides him to the stacked liquor table. “Let’s forget about all of that tonight.” Hongjoong messily pours two shots, either from having too many already or from sheer excitement to let loose. He hands Beomgyu one before raising his into the air. “To freedom!”

It’s almost surreal. The music feels like it swells as reality starts to dawn on him. His containment is soon to be over and he is completely surrounded by people. Things were finally gonna start looking up again.

“To freedom!” 

They both knock back their shots and submerge themselves back into the crowd of people with refreshed energy. His first instinct was to find you for some celebratory cum dumping, maybe fuck you into the wall of one of these fancy port-o-potties.

“Hey.” 

The voice leads Beomgyu’s eyes to a pair of sultry eyes and plump lips curved into a flirty smile. She was a perfect ten with a rack sitting pretty, the round, soft spheres of her cleavage taunting his already horny brain. Jisun was always a nice piece of eye candy. “Catch up to me,” She gestures to the shot in her hand, “and then let’s play.”

–🖊️⇝

Beomgyu is strange. He clearly still holds some resentment toward you, or at least skepticism, but he’s still around a lot. And you are too, which feels like poking the tiger. If he suddenly decides he still hates you he can rat you out with proof this time. You did blackmail the man. But this is just easier. Being strict and clear about your relationship was exhausting. Sometimes you don’t want to journey right back home after getting your back blown out.

All it would take was one joke from Beomgyu about you being clingy and you would’ve snapped back to the strict rules. Then he spent the night over your house and you felt a little at ease.

That meant you could finally have a sleepover at their dorm, staying up all night with Soobin watching scary movies and then being too scared to sleep. It also didn’t hurt having something warm to snuggle up to. The strangest part? Beomgyu seemed to be easing up. He stopped giving you that look as much, as if he’s trying to catch you scheming.

The party was much needed, and judging by the vibe of literally everyone else around you, all the partygoers would agree. There’s this overwhelming sense of relief and it’s intoxicating. Nobody can be as relieved as Beomgyu, wherever he is. You keep an eye out for him, in case he wants to monkey around in some pocket of the building. 

“Hey!!” Soobin grabs your shoulder to stop you as he maneuvers around you. “There you are!”

“And here you are! I can’t believe you’re here and not at home watching anime!” You lean a little closer for him to hear over the music.

“I know! I decided I could try and blow off some steam since I pretty much have the day off tomorrow.”

“Pretty much?” You ask, curious if a monthly diet and exercise report was a company-wide event.

“We’re having a meeting before Beomgyu is reinstated. They said it’d be a small one but I’m still blowing off steam in advance.”

“Yikes. Let’s get some drinks in your system.” You guide him to the alcohol like a nurse escorting a frail patient.

All four of you were downing shots like your life depended on it on opposite sides of the bar. Beomgyu was caught up far before you and Soobin drank your stress away, so away he went. Jisun was whisked to whatever private area they stumbled across first. The spacious storage closet behind the first door he opened seemed like stumbling across the gates of heaven. With a swift turn, he flashes Jisun a smirk and pulls her in. 

“Have you seen Beomgyu yet?” You probe, trying to look casual and not let your genuine inquiry slip through. You’re realizing the longer you’ve gone without seeing him today that you may crave more than just a quickie. A flash of his signature smirk passes through your mind and your stomach fills with a joyous warmth. You find yourself smiling. You quickly drop the smile, peering at Soobin as he stares at the ceiling.

“Not yet. I decided not to look for him and just let him relax. This party is for him after all.” He speaks quietly and you can tell there’s a lot more going unsaid. “For all we know he might not be here.” You laugh, having to force it as this feeling you can’t– or won’t– describe dawns on you. Soobin sighs, not able to shake the conflict in his head.

“I don’t know what’s going on with this man. I don’t know how to get him to talk about it-” He stops, raising his hands as if the gesture will help him conjure his thoughts. He shuts his mouth, dropping his hands in favor of grabbing a shot and downing it. “Has he said anything to you? About anything bothering him?”

“To me? Yeah, that’s not really how our relationship works.” You shake your head, tossing your own shot back to try and dull the emotions begging to be unpacked. Is something bothering him? When is something not bothering him? Now that you think about it, you haven’t seen goofy Beomgyu with your own eyes. You’ve just heard about his harmless mischief through the grapevine. “Loveable brat” is how you overheard Chaewon describe him. You didn’t really get either descriptor at first. More like “punchable asshole”. Without the constant screaming and threatening to ruin the other’s career, you suppose you’re getting close to seeing that side of him. The night before he slept over you shared a kiss that was simple. So simple it was loaded. There was no lust behind it, just a tender gesture with no follow up. Just you waking up holding him. And him holding you. 

“Did something happen?” You ask before chewing on your nail.

“Around when we first debuted. I haven’t thought about it in years because he refuses to talk about it. I really don’t think this is just about him wanting to protect us.” Soobin shoves his shot glass away, seemingly giving up on that method since it doesn’t seem to be working.

“Boy, aren’t you glad you got stuck with these guys?” You laugh and he lets one out as well, though unintentionally. He shakes his head, straightening his face. “No, I am. I really am. I’m lucky.” He knows you’re joking, but it doesn’t settle well when he remembers how he’s been acting. Beomgyu’s supposed leader giving him the silent treatment like a child or a frustrated lover. He sighs, letting out another laugh. This time it’s dry, expressing contempt for himself.

“I’m not really in the mood for a party anymore.”

Beomgyu did not ruin your career but he did ruin the mood for both of you and he wasn’t even there. You echoed his sentiments and he convinces you to come over. It wasn’t very hard, seeing as you could both use the company. There are no other members home yet so you didn’t have to share the blanket. You had it wrapped around the both of you like a cocoon as you tortured him with a scary movie. 

“We could’ve been watching The Bad Guys and-” Soobin wails loudly right beside your ear at the world’s most poorly set up jumpscare making you jerk away from him. He clings to you but you pry him off immediately.

“Are you not ashamed? A baby could sit through this.” You deride, shoving him away again when he tries to lean into you. “You’re so mean!” He erupts after trying to grab onto you a third time.

“No, you’re just a pussy.”

Soobin stands from the couch and snatches the remote from the other side of you. He pauses the movie, ignoring your protesting. “Since when were you so comfortable with disrespecting me?” He scolds playfully, setting his hands on his hips. “Last I remember, I was still your senior.”

“Would you rather I kiss your ass like before?” You cock your head to the side with a raise of your eyebrow, speaking about your former crush for the first time to him outside of the initial awkward phase after the rooftop mishap. He finally collects himself, fighting through his shock. He sits back beside you, keeping his eyes on you as he wraps the blanket back around you.

“I like this version of you much better.” He admits quietly, eyes genuine as they gaze into yours. You breathe a small laugh.

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush now, Choi.” You reply at the same volume. The atmosphere felt a lot more volatile suddenly, it was as if you both were close to triggering something.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.” His eyes leave yours, giving you a little time to breathe. “I am turned on, though.”

Your pussy clenches hard, feeling a vortex of pleasure swirl in your stomach. You suck in a breath subconsciously as your eyes become glued to how his tongue skits over his bottom lip. He must be wetting them in an attempt to maintain their softness, unlike Beomgyu who bites at them until they’re utterly ruined. Kind of like he’s doing now back at the party. He just needs some way to cope with the pulsing need overwhelming him when he needs to empty his balls. With two handfuls of Jisun’s tits, he gets a similar feeling. His teeth dig and tug at his poor bottom lip. Better it be his lip than her soft skin. He needs to remember this isn’t you he’s playing with.

Fuck, if it were you he’d sink his nails in until you yelped. Feeling his cock jump at the sound and ache at the thought of you loving the pain as much as he loves inflicting it. That delicious look in your eye exposing how much you want to absolutely ruin him in a way no one has before.

But the look you give Soobin gives Soobin pause. He raises his eyebrows before leaning back, letting his head fall back onto the couch. “You don’t still have a crush on me, do you?”

His eyes are like hot fudge drizzling over a mound of ice cream, melting every inch it touches. Still, something nags at you. You need something inside you and you need it bad… but this should be affecting you much more. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

His eyes dip lower, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Nag nag nag. It’s just dick, you tell yourself. You just need some hard sex and this feeling will go away. You grab Soobin by his shirt and pull him on top of you. He happily engulfs you with his large body, caging you in as he devours your lips. They’re still slick with his own spit. They squish and slide against yours and your body ignites. You wrap your legs around him and push his bulge into your core. He groans and you grin against his mouth. So vocal.

Beomgyu would say the same about Jisun, except it wouldn’t be praise. It’s just noise with no rhyme or reason. She’s not reacting to the curl of his fingers inside her, her moans don't correspond with the clench of her walls, there’s no sign she’s being caught off guard by anything he’s doing. Just. Noise.

Everything about her just dissolves into meaningless blobs of nothing. His fingers sloshing inside a wet cavern, his hands squeezing doughy flesh, and his lips brushing against mindless flaps that omit noise constantly. It quickly becomes mind-numbing and he can feel himself going limp. If you were here instead, you’d gasp when he pushed his fingertips into your bundle of nerves. Not meaning to dig your fingers into his shoulders but not being able to help how your body naturally reacts. You don’t want to whimper when he sucks on that sweet spot on your neck but you just can’t help it.

He can feel himself get hard again, his fingers curling and pushing into Jisun’s heat fluidly with you vivid behind his clenched lids. Where are you? He’s suddenly pulled out of the heated moment he’s sharing as the question pops into his mind. If he searched for you, could he be inside you right now instead? Jisun’s noises pull him from his thoughts. How pathetic would it be for him to scramble out of the closet, pussy juice still on his middle and ring finger as he looks for you with his eyes wide like a puppy? First he cuddles you and spends the night at your house and then you see him like that? His eyes snap open.

He grunts, pumping his fingers with more vigor. He has a warm hole for tonight. There’s always tomorrow. That frustrating feeling of the intoxicating warmth leaving his groin as you dissipate from his mind is back and he chases it again. The image of Jisun’s exaggerated expressions flicker away behind his fluttering lids before his mind projects your face twitching to keep your bliss hidden. Pleasure so strong that even the raging flames of hatred can’t burn it away. 

A penis entering a vagina was something you were taught was reserved for the pinnacle of love. When you were old enough you were promised tender touches and emotions so deep and complex they would bring you to tears. You and Beomgyu were swept up into the limelight long before you could get a chance to naturally build up such a relationship and experience such a transcendental feeling. Instead, the two of you bastardized the act with one night stands and relationships built on flimsy foundations only to come crashing down from neglect or simply not knowing who was under your sacred roof. How could you not? There’s no time, too much stress, and too much at stake. 

So you fuck and fuck until the act becomes something so unrecognizable that you come out the other end. Letting someone tear at your flesh and tamper with your spirit as they touch you the way someone you love should. Yet here you are with someone who would treat you right, someone who you longed for for so long, someone who holds you like you’re porcelain with passion still flowing through every action. You should be falling head over heels again. Your crush should be flooding back with crashing waves wrecking everything in its wake until nothing is left but your undying need for Soobin. But no. He mouths your neck as he thrusts shallowing, checking in to make sure he’s not hurting you. 

Everyone who taught you about how sex would feel were right about one thing. You were brought to tears. 

“Beomgyu.” You blubber shamefully, gritting your teeth before hiccupping. You fail to suppress it. Everything becomes a blur as tears stream down your face. The self-pity numbs you beyond repair.

Your name leaving Beomgyu’s lips doesn’t feel real. He only realizes what he’s done after Jisun’s warmth is gone. He opens his eyes and she has moved as far away from him as she possibly can in the confined space. Her angry words don’t register as she fixes herself and storms out, brushing his shoulder on her way. Once he was old enough, Beomgyu was taught a little differently. His father would wait until his mother left the room to get filthy about it, wiggling his eyebrows. His friends would boast and fantasize lewdly in the back of the classroom about it. The pinnacle of sex was supposed to be casual with beautiful women. The only hate sex guys his age fantasized about were low-stakes scenarios you only see in porn. What the two of you had? No one with any ounce of self-preservation would touch this with a ten foot pole. They’d call you “psycho”, block your number, and avoid you like the plague.

Not daydream about you while experiencing a man’s definition of the pinnacle of sex. 

–🖊️⇝

Soobin is a saint. He waited patiently for you to calm down, holding you and rubbing your back. He didn’t complain about his lack of finishing once and didn’t make you feel awkward. He just giggled at your swollen face after you finished. You sat quietly on the couch, staring at whatever movie had auto-played.

“You guys are very similar, you know?”

The urge to start crying again chokes you and you swallow it down. “Soobin, that's a horrible thing to say.” You sigh.

He laughs loudly, trying to stifle his overflowing amusement after seeing your eyes get glassy again. “That’s why you hate each other so much I think.” He says once the humor subsides.

“I hate him because he was horrible to me.” You correct, unable to suppress the annoyance flaring up at his ignorant assumption.

“He was horrible to you, right?” He looks over at you, looking back at the tv once he sees your stone-like expression. “But you still resent each other despite you guys not being at each other’s throats for about a month now.”

“Because I’m wary. He’s wary. We both are constantly remembering something horrible we did to one another.” You suck in a breath, ready to vent about all the ways he’s scarred your skin with proof, but which ones were the ones you encouraged? It didn’t feel appropriate to lie or guess no matter how much you wanted to. Fuck, you wanted to scream about Beomgyu and how much you should hate him. You whimper, resting your face in your hands. “What’s wrong with me?”

Soobin doesn’t answer, leaving you with your own thoughts. You find yourself appreciating the silence.

“Do you love him?”

Numb and hollow… yet throbbing and infected. The space between the skin of your forehead and the bone of your skull felt like it was swimming with complicated activity as your brain echoed the devastating question. Not because the answer was yes but because it had to be answered at all. You raise your head slowly from shaking hands before standing from the couch.

“I’m going to sleep.”

–🖊️⇝

Waking up that morning for both of you was somehow more loaded than waking up in each other’s arms. You couldn’t be with each other or away. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t simple anymore and the complication of it all was starting to get exhausting. You slip from beneath Soobin’s arm, careful not to wake him. Beomgyu trudges out of his bed, feet plodding heavily toward his door. Both doors close simultaneously with a dull, echoing thud, neither noticing the other as you both stand in silence. It’s only when you start to move that Beomgyu notices you. His chest rises slightly with a small gasp. There you are.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

For a second your eyes meet his and there’s a flicker of something that excites him. You straighten up. “I was with Soobin.”

“But you could’ve been with me.” Beomgyu can feel himself get worked up at just the thought of something that actually gets him going. 

“Believe it or not,” You draw nearer and Beomgyu’s eyes are locked onto your lips as they part. You lean in and the warmth of your proximity ceases his breathing “he kept me company.” 

It felt like slow motion when you pulled away and winked at Beomgyu. A gesture that should’ve been harmless and maybe even cute made Beomgyu feel like hot curdled liquid was crawling down his throat.

Once you pull back Beomgyu’s expression hardens. His eyes prick you like needles. “What?”

His tone and glare make you flinch. Your smirk flickers away. This is usually how it starts, but a part of you just wanted to cut out all the bullshit and get to the part where he makes you scream his name. But the look in his eye… something’s different. Something’s wrong. 

“I-I had a little fun with Soobin. It didn’t really go far though because I…” You choke on your words, feeling your heart throb when he tore his eyes away. He couldn’t read your mind but you couldn’t stop yourself from believing he somehow sniffed out the pitiful truth. 

Beomgyu laughs dryly and each moment without proper words made you feel like screaming. Beomgyu flexes his hands, avoiding your eyes while he cracks his knuckles. He balls them into tight fists before staring at you with a level of fury that makes your blood run cold. “I fucking knew it.”

The words struggle to leave his lips as if they had to pass through a filter of his growing disdain for you. Quiet, yet still piercing enough to get you stammering. “Y-you can’t be serious. You’re not seriously talking about what I think you are right now are you?!”

And just like that the two of you are back to square one. Everything that happened in the last two months, hell, the last 48 hours feel like they mean nothing. Why would they? It’s Beomgyu’s fault for letting things get the way they are. Beomgyu feels this nauseating sensation curdle in his stomach and it’s strong. So strong it forces a lie out of him. 

“I’m just trying to protect my members. God– is that a crime or something? Why am I the bad guy? You’re not gonna get away with using us like toys. Maybe you’ll have better luck whoring around Enhypen.” He spits out the words, hating the way they taste. This is your guys’ dynamic, right? Now you’ll start throwing things and screaming at him. 

But nothing comes and Beomgyu realizes he hasn’t been looking at you. At what point he looked away again, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t get himself to make eye contact again. The lack of response clouds his lungs, a stabbing pain screaming in his temples.

After the silence suffocates him to near death he finally manages to look at you. He has to muster all his strength, but he does. And you’re crying. His body feels hollow. No arousal or sadistic pleasure is derived from this. He can’t even feign it.

Still, the silence won’t let up and as if to punish him, his body won’t let him look away. As if two hands are holding his head in place and as a sinister voice hisses in his ears.

LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE.

How much time passes, he’s not sure. Enough time for him to realize how much chaos and stress he’s caused to his leader, his members, his company, and to an innocent person with an innocent crush.

More tears well and skit from your cheekbones straight to the carpet beneath both your feet. Darkening the fabric. The words you’ve been choking on finally release, though they sound frail and strangled. “Beomgyu. I don’t know how else to get through to you. I care about Soobin. Fuck…” You don’t attempt to wipe the tears away or cease them in any way. Your head falls as if your neck can no longer support it. “I was starting to care about you.” 

Hostile would be putting it lightly. The activity in your brain and heart is like a dozen hornet’s nests being shaken and preparing to erupt, one for each emotion reaching its peak. You grit your teeth so hard you think they’ll crumble under the pressure.

“You wanna know something? The only person hurting someone by turning on them is you.” You hate the implications this leaves but your thoughts and emotions are on overdrive and you need to leave before it gets any uglier. “I’ll respect your wishes. Friends aren’t worth dealing with this, I’d rather be alone. Just promise me you won’t involve my career in your bullshit this time.”

As you storm away, barely able to look that man in the eye you realize this. This is what you were wary of the entire time. It wasn’t him ruining your career or biting you until he draws blood or turning your friends against you. It was this feeling you were experiencing. Pain so deep you’d almost call it heartbreak. However, it wasn’t earned from time spent with someone who cherished you and made you feel like you were worth something. All this heartache…

You let him do unspeakable things to you. You let him hurt you in ways you would’ve never let anyone else. You welcomed it.

In an alternate reality, you’d be kicked out of your company, stuck with a damning reputation, and banned from the only true friends you had. The man who would’ve caused all that turmoil in your life, with the intent to cause that harm, is the same one who your heart is aching for. 

–🖊️⇝

The curtains across the room have become blurry blobs of color after being stuck staring in that direction for what felt like too long. You had to start, if you’re late sending this video in then there will be another crack. You manage to squeeze your eyes shut and jump start your brain once again from its brief hiatus.

The inhale you suck in shudders beyond your control. The more time that passes with that song out in the open for anyone to hear, the less you can hide your anxiety. You hold your breath until it hurts before blowing out a rushed gust of wind. You’re stagnant again, and before your brain can shut down for one more sweet break you force a smile and hit record.

“Hello precious moonbeams!~ I hope you’re all doing well. Thank you for all the support on Strawberry Jam. I was so worried!” You pout. “It’s a bit of a weird song, right? It’s very different from Laude so I was scared you guys wouldn’t like it. But… wow. The support is…” Sincerity bleeds through as you reflect on traversing your favorite store and then hearing your voice through the speakers.

“Pierce me, Bruise me, keep going until you see strawberry jam”

Your blood runs cold, and your eyes snap up as if you’re being caught saying something you didn’t mean to be publicized. A couple of passersby whisper or stare or gasp. You run out of the store.

Before you can get too sincere you force the smile back in place. “It’s overwhelming. Seriously.” Your eyes get glassy and you chew on your lip. “Thank you.”

All the cracks that have reared their ugly head so far have been mostly forgotten because of the overnight success of your first comeback. Your debut was deemed a flop in comparison to your colleagues, so this was absolutely necessary. It was mandatory. You finally feel like you’re making progress digging out of this deep hole. 

There are signs your company still doesn’t fully trust you.

The first big sign was the debut delays. You were sure they were going to cancel it and that they saw you as a risk. The cracks were treacherous. Then you debuted and the reception was lukewarm. You sat in limbo for days, reading negative comments until your head span. A piece chips off revealing an inky black abyss. 

Then you heard your comeback song. Instead of classy and subdued like your debut, this song was hard to swallow. It was asymmetrical and loud. It was raunchy.

“What do you think?”

You sat in silence, jaw dropped open, a truck sized lump in your throat. You could hear the sound of cracking. But why? This song was a clear hit. You could hear another idol performing it well. 

But it’s yours.

“Ready to record?”

You nod, hoping that will become true with time.

The track plays and your fears ease a bit. You bob your head to the beat. Everything goes fine until the same lyrics that struggle to come out of your mouth approach. You power through. You need this.

“I should hate it but I don’t”

This will be a hit, you can get through this. 

You continue powering through but the dread builds and builds. You hate this line, you hate it so much. Your breath gets caught in your throat right before it’s time and you know you’re about to choke.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I…” You sigh and drop your head. You already knew it was coming when they ask you to do it again.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I-I know that you like that…”

CRACK

The producer slides his headphones off with a chuckle. “I know. It’s weird, right?” He winces as if he’s mirroring your assumed feelings on the matter. He’s half right. It’s obscene and you hate it. You hate it so much.

“I’m sorry, let’s go again.”

The track replaying is like a death march. Your throat bobs, doing little to refresh your throat that feels like it’s filled with cactus needles and glass.

“Can’t promise I won’t cry but I know that you like that-”

The line processes in your mind and you connect it to the past despite avoiding doing so as if your life depends on it. You reflect on all the times he’s brought you to tears. How hot they felt rushing from your eyes after you frustratingly kissed him for the first time. How helpless and pathetic you felt crying as he restrained your wrists, only to spray you in his seed mockingly. And most frustratingly of all, you crying while revealing that you actually cared about him after he did exactly what you knew he would.

CRACK

The calls of your name are muffled as flashes of his face refuse to leave. You grit your teeth, feeling a frightening level of rage familiarly build up inside you. “I hate him.”

You rush out of the recording booth, mortified as tears stream down your face. He’s done it again. He isn’t even here and he’s done it again. If he could see you right now he’d probably smile. It would probably brighten his day. And you welcomed that monster into your bed.

You’re all the way back home once you realize what you’ve done. The producer is probably calling your manager who is calling the CEO about how much of a pain in the ass you are. You need to get yourself together quickly and get back there. You run to your bathroom and look in the mirror. You plant your shaky hands on the sink

“I’m…”

Your voice wavers. Your resolve dissipates as you stare at the cracks that have transferred to your very visage. A shard dangles where your eye resides before falling away. Again, the black nothingness is left behind and you’ve already forgotten what your face normally looks like.

Your phone starts to buzz and you slowly fade back to reality.

–🖊️⇝

“I have no clue who that is. Why can’t we collab with a Korean artist?” Beomgyu mutters. Soobin grits his teeth and elbows him. He rolls his eyes despite the instant regret. It takes only a minute of fading into the background as the other guys engage in productive conversation for the guilt to fully bloom. On one couch there were four employees and one temperamental child.

No matter where he goes he feels this way. The guys don’t bring girls to the dorm anymore. If they go out to see one, they nervously lie about it and rush out of the door. 

Anytime they bring up a memory tainted with you, Beomgyu is greeted with shocked silence and finds four panicked eyes on him like they’re afraid they’ve poked a tiger.

All those posters, cardboard cutouts, and billboards that are fucking everywhere are like land mines. To anyone else it would be comical to watch four grown, big ass men tiptoeing around a mall like one wrong step will blow their leg clean off.

And the song.

Beomgyu… he is really trying to get better. If he didn’t attempt to, Soobin would probably choke him out. He’s been very patient, but anyone in his shoes would be exasperated. When they’re in public or in a meeting and Beomgyu is being a menace is one thing, Soobin lets him know then and there that he’s serious.

However, when they’re alone, it’s strangely peaceful. He asks Beomgyu about his day and his mental and emotional state. He hasn’t brought you up for a while now. Tomorrow will make 6 months.

Tomorrow comes, Beomgyu’s indifference is slipping. While everyone else walked on eggshells, Beomgyu coasted through the situation like nothing happened. But somehow, the fact that the boys are becoming more accustomed to not bringing you up is bothering him. He only sees you through screens or your likeness plastered on paper or cardboard. 

The last time you physically entered his vision was during your goodbye stage of your debut promotions. It was a brief glimpse but it was enough to show you weren’t doing well. It was an image burned into his memory. None of the photo shoots could replace it. Even longer before that was the last time the two of you made physical contact. The feeling of holding you in your bed is long gone. Everything about you feels like a ghost now.

“Here he is!” Beomgyu looks up from his phone he wasn’t really looking at anyway to see Soobin walking over with some girl. Beomgyu slides down his mask to present the girl with a tight smile and bow.

“This is Jiwon from Cherry Bullet.” 

“Hello.” Jiwon bows with a bright smile and somehow the common gesture illustrates just how efficient of a person she is. He has no clue what a cherry bullet is but something tells him she’s a stellar idol. But why was she talking to him? Beomgyu looks up at Soobin’s phony wide smile before getting distracted by the rest of his members frantically trying to stop what’s happening. Yeonjun tugs Soobin to the side, jaw jutting forward as he grits something out Beomgyu can’t quite decipher.

“I’ve heard people refer to you as a video game protagonist.” Beomgyu’s attention is ripped away from his members as Jiwon speaks again with a little more hesitance this time. What, does she think he’s a ticking time bomb too?

“What?”

“Your visuals.” She clarifies, seeming a little more relaxed now. “Now that I see you in real life I can say I see it too. I didn’t know before but I think that’s my style.” She looks down, still appearing resolute despite the shy action. 

“I don’t usually do things like this, I value my job and image, but I was just so curious about you. I felt a bit weird asking Soobin to introduce me to you but…” As if she realizes she’s been having a one-sided conversation, she stops herself and looks at Beomgyu expectantly.

Every so often, Beomgyu catches wind of a rumor going around about himself. Whether it’s someone he’s cool with reporting back to him or rookies being way too loud and excitable. He supposes every idol experiences this, and most likely they’re as indifferent as he is. He’s a former thug, he’s gay, he’s fucking an executive, and the biggest one:

He’s a womanizer. 

That one sometimes goes hand in hand with the thug one, but it’s mostly referring to his current idol lifestyle. He doesn’t know how it happened. He hasn’t been in a relationship since Hyesoo. He couldn’t be one if he tried. He lets his emotions get in the way. A part of him wishes it were true. Maybe he would stop craving nails raking into the flesh of his back or bite marks on his bottom lip and shoulders. Maybe he would stop waking up with soiled sheets because he has dreams about being ridden long after he’s already cum. 

Of course now he’s thinking of you, despite chatting it up with Jiwoo– or no, Ji…

You’re probably getting relief every other day with how famous you are now. If you even have the time. In that case, you’re probably locking you and some guy in dressing rooms, closets, anywhere you can get privacy for a quickie. 

But no… you’re not like that. You only let Beomgyu see the deepest, darkest parts of you because you were pushed to do so. Beomgyu’s face goes slack, staring deep into space. You hated him so much that you didn’t care about bearing the ugliest side of you to him. Gnashing your teeth with your shirt a tangled mess over your torso after you gave up on taking it off. Saying the most venomous things Beomgyu’s ever heard while milking him for all he’s got. Even after things cooled a bit, you would let him touch and taste you before you even showered. Opening the door to let him in with stains all over your shirt and leftover makeup from the day before.

“I thought about jumping off the roof at practice while I was on my break.” You had said to him after couch sex. You guys were watching Community and eating ice cream. You were just joking about one of the characters being dumb. Beomgyu had looked at you, completely bewildered.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? What you’ve been waiting for?” He asks incredulously.

You sigh dramatically.

“Yeah, but I’m so fucking hungry. My body aches and my hands shake so much I can barely hold a pen to write my own name. I made a mistake and my instructor cussed at me and called me useless.” You laughed sharply before letting your head droop over to face him. “D’you know they delayed my fucking debut again? Before I thought about offing myself I imagined slitting my manager’s throat and bludgeoning the dance instructor to death and stripping down so I could smear both their blood all over me until it covered every inch of my skin. It was so brief but so so vivid.” You rushed out the words in a crazed fashion and you looked at him with wide eyes. You smile. “Then I imagined you coming in, we had sex and then I strangled you until your eyes bulged out–” You catch your breath and look back at the tv. You looked down at your hand and groaned. Your ice cream had melted over your trembling hand.

“Fuck it–” You rush over to the trash can and chuck it before aggressively wiping off your hand with a tattered kitchen towel. You stomp over to the fridge and take out one of the multiple spoiled bags of salad mix and dump it in the trash to cover up the tossed ice cream. You throw a glance at him.

“Make sure you eat that all or cover your tracks if you throw it away.” You mutter, finding your voice wavering suddenly. You sniffle, slamming down on the couch. You refuse to look over at him as tears break free from your eyes. You feel him move closer to you on the couch and you grit your teeth. His hand curls around the column of your throat but he doesn’t apply pressure.

“I imagined killing my manager once too.”

You peer over at him, he’s looking down, his thick lashes on display. “Except I stabbed  him over and over and over until he was an unrecognizable mound of mush. You’re right, it flashed by so fast. I was so sickened by it I pretended it never crossed my mind. Yet here we are…” He finally looks up with a smirk. He finally applies the pressure and you inhale a shuddering breath.

He moves his lips next to your ear, his breath fanning on it making you shiver. “Does it hurt?”

Immediately understanding what he meant you nod feverishly. 

“I’ll distract you.” He answers quickly before swinging his leg over and resting his knee on your thigh. He sits all his weight on your thigh and he squeezes your throat. He repeats it again breathily as he stares down at you wistfully. Your strangled whimpers get him straining against his jeans. 

“I-I…” You find yourself speaking against your will. No… this isn’t how this went. He squeezes again and you moan. You want to clench your thighs but his knee is pinning your leg down. You can’t think, it’s perfect. Still, you find your mouth moving. No! There were no more words exchanged after this. You fucked again and he slept over.

“I-I’m so lonely,” Your voice quivers before you begin sobbing uncontrollably. When you open your eyes and blink away your tears you see a twisted wide grin on his face. His eyes are wild. You tremble in fear, unable to speak anymore. No no no no no no no…

“I fucking knew it.”

You gasp for air, it feels like he’s crushing your windpipe.

“Just a sad, lonely, nobody coming to mooch off of us. Pitiful. You want friends? Huh?” You feel blood rushing up to your face. “Too bad. You don’t deserve love. No one fucking likes you and no one ever will. I’ll do you a favor.”

Almost as if he’s beating you to what you briefly daydreamt about, he applies his other hand and you want to scream. Your ears start ringing and you feel something warm trickle from your ears and all of a sudden there’s a bright light and a piercing noise–

You jolt up from your bed, continuing to sob like you did in your nightmare. You stumble out, nearly tripping as you reach to turn the light on. After doing so you slide down against the wall. Sobbing until your chest hurt and you had no air left in your lungs.

–🖊️⇝

There’s no doubt this song has gotten you some perverse comments and unwanted attention, but it must also get you positive attention too. He’s never seen you hang out with anyone else  besides the guys but surely you have an entourage by now. Guys lining up to treat you right. Ones you wouldn’t feel are deplorable enough to casually bring up your murder fantasies to.

“Gyu?”

Jiwon has that confused tone in her voice. God, he tuned her out by accident again. 

“Are you okay? It seems like you’ve been zoning out a lot.” She sounds cautious again. Beomgyu can tell that she’s trying to avoid what might set him off. Did Soobin tell her about you? How he’s just a screaming match waiting to happen?

“To be fair, I’ve had a lot to think about recently.” Beomgyu gives her a look, he knows she’s aware of what he’s referring to. Her awareness is becoming increasingly obvious.

She sits down beside him in the other folding chair backstage. Not dissimilar to when they first met. Even more similar, he notices his members frantically whispering to each other while looking at him.

“Are you still feeling bothered by that?” Jiwon places a hand on his but it doesn’t pull his attention away. Suddenly Kai is casting a fearful look to his right. Beomgyu, already feeling something stirring in his stomach follows his eyeline. 

A pair of black docs accented with black opaque hosiery that almost stop where your red skirt starts. The skirt looks tattered, purposefully so. It’s asymmetrical and overlapped by a black, intricately designed corset top. Your hands that are running through your hair are donned in a red, loosely fitted pair of sheer gloves. Once your arms stop shielding your face and you lift your head, Beomgyu sees your mascara running. His stomach drops.

The stylist scolds you and quickly tries to fix the mess. You don’t react at all, face stone cold. Maybe you just had a bad day, Beomgyu thinks.

It’s cliche, but it never stops shocking you how blinding the stage lights are. They glint sharply, feeling like they’ve sliced your eyes. You shut them, only to quickly open them once you remember people can see you. You force a smile on your face, not caring if it looks like you have a gun to your head. This is all you have left.

The bright light nearly pricks tears back to your eyes but you hold them back just like you hold back the thoughts of the texts your parents sent you this morning. You don’t want to perform today, the last thing you want to do is sing this song that is now ruining relationships. However, now this is truly all you have left. So you flip the switch as soon as the music starts and don’t turn it off until it’s safe to cry again.

You almost melt away on your couch when a knock startles you. You race to the door, thinking it may be your manager. A part of you still expects her to scold you about something she found out. It’s been months but you still fear Beomgyu saying something. A shaking hand pulls open the door.

Myungsoo smirks lazily. Kim Myungsoo. You have to pinch yourself still, despite it being a month now since he first spoke to you. You’re used to people speaking to you first by now. You’d rather they stick around, hang out with you, but that never happens. When he came up and asked you about your song, you were positive you’d probably never see him again. A man you used to have posters of slipping right through your fingers. But then he suddenly stayed put.

“What’re you up to?” He asks before widening his smile. Your heart flutters.

“I was going to take a nap.” You say quietly, very much distracted. Him brushing some of your hair behind your ear doesn’t help.

He waits a beat as he presses his lips into a thin line. “Need help?”

Your heart drums against your rib cage, it almost hurts how much you need it. He’s been teasing you during this exciting yet excruciating month. Hinting that he wants to fuck you but never doing it. You nearly came when he put his hand on your thigh last week.

Now his hand is there again, and it takes every ounce of strength you have to not lift your hips and coax him to where it hurts. He insisted on leaving the television off so you can’t even pretend not to have your full attention on him. 

“C’mere.” He whispers, his voice so warm it melts you. You scoot over and lean your head on his shoulder. You guys stay like that and you’re content– you really are… but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult not to shove his hand down your pants. You don’t know how long it’s been but your body is screaming at you. He should’ve been inside you already, you guys should have been done with your first round actually. Your impatience gets the best of you and you look up at him. He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Take a nap. Isn’t that what you said you were doing?”

You laugh dryly, too annoyed to take it back or be mortified at your outward display of your sexual frustration. 

“Is something wrong?” He pouts his lips mockingly. You sit up from him but he pulls you back. 

You let out a strained sigh. “I think I need to be alone to take a nap actually.”

“What, now you’re kicking me out? Did I do something wrong?” His cutesy act is nauseating right now. It pushes you to reveal how you actually feel.

“Aren’t you building us up to be just fuck buddies? Why are you beating around the bush?” You’re desperate, but it’s more than just being horny. At the moment you have no outlet for the overwhelming amounts of anxiety and growing depression. Despite what you had with Beomgyu being… what it was, you remember a wave of serenity after it was all said and done. You bickered as you got your clothes back on but then he left and your body was noticeably less tense. 

“I never said anything about that. You know, you claim you had nothing to do with the song but I’m a little skeptical…” He traces shapes over your bare shoulder and you shrug it off with a scoff before sitting up. The annoyance was building towards being affronted, but you could feel something tingling like a spark crackling inside your stomach. It was back, a feeling you haven’t felt in quite a while. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean,” Myungsoo shifts toward you, “you’ve been practically begging to be fucked the minute we met. You’re not as subtle as you think.” His faux sympathy melts away once he sees fire glinting in your eyes. He can’t help but smile.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” You spit before mounting his lap and devouring his lips. This is it, there’s no mistaking it. But something’s missing… 

Myungsoo sits there, barely moving his lips against yours. Your hands roam his entire body while his are still by his sides. You pull away, afraid that you were mistaken, but he’s smiling up at you. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before coaxing you to finish.

“You want it, don’t you?”

And so you strip your shirt off, the fabric pulled away to reveal your eyes blown wide with lust. You capture his lips again and it tastes so sweet. You nearly tremble after finally breaking through that barrier that never seems to leave. You feel powerful for the first time in months as you slide your hands under his shirt. You puff out a frustrated gust of air before sliding off his lap and kneeling before him. You look up at him as you unzip his jeans. He smirks the entire time, lifting his hips to let you slide his jeans and underwear down. He exaggerates the movement of stretching his arms back and resting his hands behind his head. You falter, suddenly self conscious. 

“What’s your deal?”

He answers quickly, somehow knowing exactly what you were referring to. “I dunno… maybe I’m just not feeling it yet.” He sighs, reaching for his flaccid member and stroking it disappointedly. “Look at it, so pitiful.”

You swat his hand away, feeling challenged by his words. You start with his balls, licking in between them before circling your tongue around each one. You glance up at him and his cock twitches. His smirk flickers away briefly to revel pleasure while looking at the determination in your eyes.

You’re just so happy to finally taste someone. The way a cock feels in your hands and on your tongue, so silky and soft. So sinfully beautiful when covered in thick globs of saliva. There is truly nothing like it. But again, there was something missing.

Anywhere you and Myungsoo were together turned into a new spot for you to fuck. You’d give him the eyes which he’d ignore. Then you’d touch him. Kiss him. Whisper in his ear. None of it worked until you were pulling him somewhere secluded. Even when you were at his place or him at yours. It was like pulling teeth. But whatever, foreplay for you and Beomgyu was degrading and threatening each other. This was nothing.

It didn’t stop at foreplay, though. Throughout the entire act he’d be so smug, never reacting to anything. Only small glimpses of pleasure could be caught, but if you blinked you could miss it. You find yourself fighting for his passion. However, it remained one-sided.

–🖊️⇝

Jiwon’s ministrations were soft, almost like they weren’t there. She had a pretty pair of lips but they were like feathers against his.

“Noona…” He whispered, brushing his nose against hers.

“Hm?” She barely pecks his lips. Beomgyu inhales deeply before grabbing the back of Jiwon’s head and deepening the kiss. She makes a muffled noise of surprise but her eyes slowly flutter shut. She melts into the kiss for a few lovely seconds before forcing herself to pull away. She clears her throat before grabbing both of Beomgyu’s hands.

“Let’s take it slow, okay?” Jiwon gives him a pleading look and he only groans inwardly. It’s been a minute, and Jiwon is not a woman you come across too often. And they actually have a relationship he can brag about, someone he could see himself marrying. She’s pristine.

“Why, you didn’t like it?” He smirks and she scoffs.

“I did, but I just think it’s better for us if we don’t rush things.”

Beomgyu tries really hard to hide the cynicism threatening to rear its ugly head. Jiwon was finally not walking on eggshells around him. He thinks long and hard about what he’s going to say and panics when he thinks he’s said the wrong thing.

“Fine. But a deeper kiss won’t kill us.” Beomgyu brushes away his train of thought before smiling. 

It wasn’t long before Beomgyu and Jiwon made it official, only telling people they trusted and not risking visiting each other anywhere but their dorms. Even that takes several days of planning. 

“How does it work? We’ve never been.” Taehyun says, leaning forward in anticipation.

Jiwon takes a moment to swallow her sip of tea and to think. 

“This will be my second survival style show. I think that they’re not dissimilar to being a trainee, honestly. The ferocity of everyone around you is still there. This new one is a little less intense, though. I guess the stakes aren’t as high.” Once she finishes talking she takes another delicate sip of her tea. Beomgyu watches intently, admiring how elegant she is. It’s so effortless for her. She continues her mature conversation with his members but Beomgyu is completely checked out. There’s a lingering sour feeling prodding at him as he watches her. It makes his smile flicker away.

“Right Beomgyu?” Soobin elbows him and Beomgyu is finally broken out of his daze.

All Beomgyu’s plugs slowly enter each outlet. “Huh?”

“You were so social during our trainee days, it was hard for people to hate you.” Soobin says, making everyone chuckle.

“Even when they saw you as competition, no dice.” Yeonjun chimes in. It was fun to reminisce until it wasn’t. He was smiling again and it seemed to immediately go away the longer he thought about it. He’s been told this. That he’s unhateable. He’s too silly, a loveable brat. But you managed.

“He could never do wrong. We make a mistake and it would start a fight. Beomgyu would do the same thing and they would just brush it off.” Kai adds, and everyone laughs again except for Beomgyu who’s stuck staring in space, his water bottle static in his hands.

“That’s so true!” Someone gushes through the laughter. 

“Funny how things change, huh?”

The room goes silent as Beomgyu takes a swig from his bottle.

Jiwon looks panicked before laughing nervously. “What do you mean? I’ve never laughed this much before meeting you, and the girls love when you come over. Not to mention having four members who love you. That’s rare, you know.”  

Soobin claps before pointing at Jiwon. “That’s exactly right!”

“What else could you need?” Jiwon rubs Beomgyu’s back, making him realize that she’s not miles away from him like it feels she is. She’s right. So everything will eventually get better.

–🖊️⇝

 “Let’s go to a karaoke bar next!” Eunchae ugly laughs in excitement, already running ahead with Kazuha chasing behind her. Yunjin loops her arm with Sakura before following the younger members, engaged in a personal conversation. On instinct, Chaewon follows close by, yelling for the younger members to slow down.

The five of them have a warm dynamic that’s so enticing. Their figures growing further, soaked in the various vibrant hues of neon signs. It was like a scene out of films you watch alone on your couch. It’s right there.

Freezing as if something dawned on her, Chaewon swiftly turns around to face you.

“You coming?” She shouts.

“Ugh, she never comes. Let’s just go.” Yunjin whines dismissively. Chaewon looks conflicted as her gaze switches between you both. You stretch your mouth into a thin line. 

“I have to get home. I’ll text you.” 

Chaewon wants to protest but when she looks back at her members, they’re much farther away than she thought. Then when she looks back at you, you’re already gone.

From the corner of the bar, you send texts back and forth. Your head slips off your fist and nearly slams into the table before you stop it. Just an hour before, you were here with a group of people. The memory feels like particles of dust floating through the air that you try to clutch in your fist.

“Are you okay? I think you’ve had enough for the night. Call a cab and go home.” The stern, motherly tone of the owner doesn’t offend you at all. You don’t get to answer before she’s off sweeping the other end of the restaurant. You let your body completely slump over, resting your upper body on the table.

A tsk barely pricks at your foggy brain. “What a mess.” Myungsoo sighs.

“Take me home oppa.” You giggle with your cheek squished against the table. He raises his brow at you and you raise your arms. He groans before picking you up from the table and holding you bridal style. You rest your head against his chest, feeling tired against his warmth. You’re just about to drift off to sleep when he’s placing you into the passenger’s seat. You whine in protest but he’s already shutting the door. The gentle car ride makes your lids heavier until they shut completely.

Myungsoo picking you up again has your eyes slowly lifting open. You watch his face as he carries you. His body heat is intoxicating. You can’t stop your eyes from flickering down at his lips. You don’t want to mount him like you usually do, you feel something deeper. Maybe there was a reason he took so long to let you have him at first. 

He lets you down to unlock his door before taking you by the hand and leading you in. You’re cuddling on his bed, still unable to take your eyes off him. He’s caught you a couple times and all he does is smile. This time his eyes linger on yours before whispering for you to come closer. You’re moving as soon as he says to, connecting your lips to his hungrily. 

He smells and tastes so good. You trace your tongue over his bottom lip before pecking his mouth. He grins, letting out a warm, chesty chuckle.

“I love when you guys get like this.”

You laugh, a little confused. You peck him again. “You guys?”

He caresses the back of your neck before pulling you in for a deeper kiss. Your breath picks up as you climb on top of him, smashing your mouths together. He pulls away and whispers breathily in your ear.

“You have that twinkle in your eye. You need me. All you think of is me.” 

You shudder, grinding down on him. You trail kisses all over his neck as he continues.

“If I were to leave, you’d be devastated.”

The thought makes you whimper, nipping at his neck. He hisses. “Stop it.” You say in a tiny voice. You feel his bulge grow more prominent.

“You’d do anything to please me, make me stay.” He moans through the sentence, bucking up into you. Your heart starts thumping, and the longer this goes on the more you realize it’s not because you’re turned on. You lift from him.

“I said stop.” Your face is hot. It’s right, he’s completely correct. You want to have your hands and lips on him at all times and your heart is constantly clenched by the fear that he doesn’t really care about you.

“What? Should I make you bleed instead?” He laughs.

Your chest constricts, your breath getting caught in your throat. Your lips tremble as you quirk your jaw trying to curb the anger bubbling up. 

“What did you just say?”

“Babe.” He sits up on his forearms. “I’m just trying to rile you up a little bit. I’m just having a little fun.” He looks you up and down, he’s getting harder underneath you.

Right… this is something you’re familiar with. Something that could lead to even a moment of serenity. But it’s never that way with him. His eyes judge you and urge you to satisfy him. He doesn’t even have to say a word and you’re scrambling to make sure he’s pleased. You’re giving your all as he lazily lies beneath you, enjoying the show. Exuding passion with nothing in return is exhausting, that exhaustion finally dawning on you.

“Well I’m not.” You say before swinging your leg back over him. You slide out of his bed and start putting your clothes back on.

“Where are you going? Come on, you don’t actually want to leave.” He barely moves, just shifting a little to the side.

“I just need a little space for the night.” You hurriedly slip into your pants, wanting to leave instead of having this conversation.

“No you don’t. You need company like you need water.” His velvety smooth voice that once coaxed you into giving your all to him is gone. What’s left is harsh yet dismissive.

“You don’t know what I need, Myungsoo.” You shoot back, throwing your shirt on the bed.

“I know, everyone knows. You’re so lonely you walk around everywhere like a lost puppy but run away whenever anyone tries to get to know you. There’s a reason you were texting me and not your friends you were just drinking with. I’m all you have. So don’t be stupid.” 

Just like that, the harsh lines in his face melt away and he’s back to smirking, patting the space beside him in the bed.

Is this what you deserve? They say you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. And he’s right. He’s so right, again. Maybe you should just sink into the warmth and turn your brain off. Turn on the switch to perform.

However, as you think, emotions build inside you. It feels like pressure behind your skull threatening to pop. Tears abruptly start gushing down your face as you grab your shirt and rush out of the door. You can’t stop the ugly noises from leaving you as you rush home in the cold night air. 

By the time you’re in your own bed, your face and head hurt from the intensity of your sobs. There are no tears left as you continue to sob. It didn’t work. You were supposed to use him as an opportunity to take away some stress but somehow it’s worse. There’s nothing you can do. You’ll just have to live with this alone. Forever.

CRACK

–🖊️⇝

“I was so close but I didn’t make it.” Jiwon sighs dejectedly. 

“I don’t know what they don’t see in you! I think you’re a great performer.” Kai laments.

“You did a great job.” Beomgyu rubs her hand and she instantly smiles. 

“Thanks. And at the end of the day I still have my group and you guys.” Everyone gushes at her response. 

Beomgyu’s mind wanders to the place it has been going frequently these days. He wonders what you’re doing. What it would be like if you were still friends with the members. If he didn’t make you cry. Would you be smiling as widely as Jiwon is even after failing?

“Look who’s lost in thought again.” Soobin pats Beomgyu’s back but he’s stuck. He’s nestled deep within thoughts of you.

“You know you could talk to us about anything, right?” Jiwon moves her hand to caress his. No. He doesn’t know this. In fact, he knows it’s not true.

“Why do you think she was crying that day?” Beomgyu doesn’t look up but the table goes quiet. The tension is lathered thick over the air. Jiwon laughs nervously.

“Wait, Beomgyu weren’t you just talking about–” Jiwon attempts to change the topic.

“You would think she’d be really happy right now.” He continues. 

“Let’s not talk about this–” Jiwon tries but Beomgyu turns toward her.

“Didn’t you say I could talk to you guys about anything?”

“But Beomgyu… talking about her is only going to make you more upset.” Jiwon lowers her voice, going back to how cautious she was when they first met.

“Do I look upset? You guys are the ones acting like there’s a gun to your heads when she’s brought up.” Beomgyu resumes eating while everyone else is still frozen.

“Gyu. It’s because you should let go of her. It’ll be better for you.” Her hand that was once soothing on his now felt like an owner trying to calm their dog after someone knocked on the door. 

“You don’t know what’s better for me.” Beomgyu grumbles.

Soobin stands abruptly. “Beomgyu, can we talk in the kitchen?”

“Gladly.” Beomgyu immediately follows the taller male out the dining room and down the hall. Before Soobin could start scolding him he had things to get off his chest first.

“Why did you introduce me to her in the first place?”

“She asked to meet you. She was interested.” Soobin expresses annoyedly.

“I’m sure plenty of girls have done that, why did you decide to do so for her.” Beomgyu probes.

“Because I knew her and trusted her.”

“Trusted her to be able to handle a project.” Beomgyu rushes out. And before Soobin can deny anything he’s rushing toward him with a finger pointed at his face. “I don’t need to be fixed.”

Soobin sighs, uneasy about how this conversation may go. 

“You’re not broken, you’re hurt. Everyone gets hurt, Beomgyu. There’s nothing wrong with accepting help. We’re just trying to help you move on-”

“I don’t want to move on! You guys were so fucking anal about how I treated her and now you just pretend she doesn’t exist?” Beomgyu shouts furiously.

Soobin decides it’s better to just rip off the bandaid. There's no changing the truth. 

“She’s gone. It’s been half a year and she’s made no attempt to reach out to any of us. It’s clear that part of our lives is over. Beomgyu, you need to focus on yourself right now. We can get through this together.” Soobin tries to coax a reasonable reaction out of Beomgyu but it doesn’t seem to be working. He’s only getting more worked up.

“Stop. Stop.” Beomgyu shoves his hands into his hair before gritting his teeth. “I’m so sick of everyone shoving me under a telescope. At least she never pried.”

“Are you insinuating that what you guys had was anything remotely healthy? Continuously hanging around someone who you despise that much isn’t good for either of you. I saw the marks all over her body.”

Beomgyu sees red, he’s grabbing Soobin’s collar before he could think it through.

“You shut your fucking mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know her like I do.” Beomgyu shoves him away, his glare hot like lava as he walks out of the room. Heading toward his bedroom he doesn’t see Jiwon on the other side of the doorway. She bites her fist as a tear trickles down her cheek. 

“When’s Beomgyu coming over next?” Mao asks, switching to kneel on the couch toward a stone faced Jiwon. Jiwon takes in a quick breath, checking one last time if this is the right move.

“I don’t think he is.”

Mao and the other girls in the room all make a noise in surprise and crowd around Jiwon on the couch. “What the hell happened?” Haeyoon asked incredulously.

Jiwon lets out a small derisive laugh to pair with a tiny smirk as she drops her head. “He’s hung up over his ex.”

The girls all switch between comforting her and cursing him. 

“Who’s the ex?” Chaerin asks angrily.

Jiwon thinks on it again. Fuck it.

“Do you know that song Strawberry Jam?”

–🖊️⇝

Something is unresolved. That much is clear as you both lay in your own rooms, tear stains on each of your pillows. And as long as it stays unresolved, you both will be unable to be loved. 

You’ve denied four invitations to hang out with Chaewon, and you’re surprised she still asks. This month is a free schedule for you to rest after your song promotions are over.

Beomgyu either plays video games until his eyes are dry or lies in bed scrolling through social media. His members pop in to give him food.

Your stomach twists painfully as you watch tv in bed. The colors dance around blurrily as your eyes start to water again.

A month didn’t feel like a month, but you lost track of your days so it makes sense when your manager comes into your room. 

“What’s that smell? Get up and take a shower. We’re going to go over this month’s schedule.” She shuts the door, trusting that you’ll follow orders. Even she used to be kinder to you. What’s the use of attempting to start relationships when they don’t work out. Even your own parents don’t talk to you anymore. You laugh hoarsely. The laughing grows louder and louder until you’re cackling.

You cackle in the shower as well. Is this what happens after you’ve cried so much tears don’t come out anymore?

Beomgyu regretted chasing away Jiwon the minute he did it. She had a similar hurt expression to you when he yelled at her to get out of his room. Look at how each of his relationships ended. Why the hell would Hyesoo stay with a guy like him. Beomgyu’s lip quivers before he’s crying into his pillow again.

You both carry out what’s scheduled for you numbly, so checked out neither of you can add anything valuable to any conversation. 

“Remember how you signed up to be an MC? Well you got accepted! You can continue submitting songs for your next comeback but this should be your priority for now.” One of the women at the table inform you. Fuck, you did do that, didn’t you.

It turns out it’s pretty easy. Just smile and read your lines. It’s much easier to turn your MC switch on, it seems. You had even gotten comfortable with it. Your co-MC is friendly. Formal, but friendly. Everything was working out.

You lift up your cue card in the silence of your empty room.

“And here’s TXT with their new comeback...” Your enthusiasm wanes when you think about standing in a room with him again.

CRACK

It’ll be fine, just flip the switch.

You can feel that he’s there, everyone can feel the tension. The you that was involved with him is switched off right now. Right now you’re conducting an interview. 

Beomgyu slowly fades to the background as you watch the other members, remembering the good memories you had together. Soobin does most of the talking which makes your chest unwittingly constrict. After this you’ll be all alone again.

The makeup artist finally gets done touching up your makeup and you get a moment to stew. Only a short moment as the other MC approaches. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

The simple question forces your switch off. The two of you made eye contact at the end of the interview, and for some reason a whirlwind of emotions threatened to escape you. You’re not okay.

“It’s just, I know you have a past with Beomgyu.”

“Yeah–” You look up at him as your brain fog slowly dissipates. “What did you say?”

“I heard that you wrote Strawberry Jam about him and I…”

Everything silently shatters, the pieces remaining all clattering to the floor.

“Look at the back of her neck.” You whip your head around to see two idols whispering before looking shocked and scurrying away. You send a shaky hand to the back of your neck to cover it. Doing so makes your sleeve drop and reveal scratches on your arm. You begin hyperventilating as you scan your surroundings. Multiple people, staff, idols, everybody is whispering and looking at you. You block out the other MC yelling after you as you run out of the room.

Was it Myungsoo? Was he retaliating because you left him? You never mentioned Beomgyu though. No… it could only be one person. Tears stream down your face as you hunt for their dressing room. You pass a mirror on the way and get stuck staring at your void of a face. Only a pair of reddened, crazed eyes stare back. You refocus on your hunt and finally find their door. You swing it open and rush toward Beomgyu in a frenzy.

As you enter, everything around Beomgyu is a blur. The staff looking shocked, Yeonjun and Soobin jumping up to restrain you. And you. Your makeup is completely ruined with a look of utter fury on your face as you cock your hand back before striking him across the face. Time goes back to normal as the staff gasp. Beomgyu places a hand over his stinging flesh. It prickles, burning through his numbness. The initial impact of the slap was like a crack of lightning striking him. He feels a blur of emotions threatening to pour out.

“Why the fuck would you do that?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Yeonjun and Soobin had successfully restrained you but you thrash to get free. You curse and swipe at Beomgyu, yelling incoherently. Beomgyu slowly stands up and approaches you. Taehyun has to join and hold each arm when Beomgyu is in reaching distance.

“Let me go!” You shriek like a raging animal, trying to rip yourself free. You kick at him, your heels striking his shins and sending a piercing bout of pain up his legs.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Get away from her!” Soobin yells.

“Let her go.” Beomgyu yells over the commotion.

“What?! Why would–” Yeonjun starts but Soobin lets go.

“Just do it. Let him have her.” Soobin spits, scowling at the younger male whose eyes are still trained on you. Taehyun and Yeonjun let you go and you immediately slap him again.

“You just couldn’t help trying to ruin my career again? Do you really hate me that much after I gave you what you wanted?” You whisper shakily, your eyes wild as they take him in.

“Beomgyu… what did you do?” Kai’s voice is weak behind him.

Beomgyu takes your arm and pulls you out of the room. You yell for him to let you go and strike his arm. Each hit is like a jolt of clarity for Beomgyu, the pain an afterthought. He pulls you into an empty room where you begin banging your fists against his chest. He stumbles backward, slamming against the door and shutting it. 

He restrains your arms, squeezing them to keep them steady as you thrash again. “Why?! What else do you want?!”

“What did I do, he asked.” Beomgyu laughed. He throws his head against the door and laughs harder. You look on in utter disbelief.

“Is this funny to you?”

“What’s funny is that I didn’t do anything and somehow shit has still hit the fan. My members are questioning me again, you’re fucking hitting me again.” The amusement Beomgyu was expressing earlier is completely gone as he starts his rant.

“You told everyone that my song was about us!” 

“I didn’t!” He shouts back.

“Then who did Beomgyu?!”

“I’m not the only person who knew about us.” Beomgyu yanks you closer by your arms. You finally manage to free your arms and you drive a finger into his chest.

“But you are the only person who has proven to be malicious enough to do something like this.”

“How do you know it’s not one of your friends? You’re all big and famous now, maybe you shouldn’t go around telling anyone your secrets.”

“I don’t have any friends anymore, Beomgyu!” You shout, your voice cracking as a lone tear rolls down your cheek. “Remember? You drove me away from my only friends. I didn’t go “whoring around Enhypen”. I have no one.” The last of the sentence shreds your throat. You run your hands over your face before pointing at him again. “I’m going through enough and you choose to fuck with me. This is all I have Beomgyu!” You pound both your fists against his chest and again you’re moving in slow motion. He can see it in your eyes. In how hard you clench your teeth. He can feel it each time you strike him.

“Why would you do it?” You sob.

“Slap me.”

You gape at him, chest rising and falling violently as you make up for the amount of air you lost. 

Beomgyu is the one getting riled up now. “Do it. Slap me. Fucking do it–”

You strike him hard enough that the corner of his mouth splits. 

“Do it again.”

Your hand is impacting his cheek as soon as his sentence ends. 

“Again.”

You’re both breathing frantically as you slap him again and another time before he can even ask. He grabs your forearm and yanks you closer. “Do it. I know what you want. Fucking ruin me.”

You grab his face and pull his mouth to smash against yours. He lifts you up and you immediately wrap your legs around him. The taste of his tongue, his blood, it lights you up. All your emotions come flooding out as you grip his shirt and tear it apart. Your noses bump harshly against each other as he repositions you against the wall.

You can barely act on your urges with how intense Beomgyu’s actions are. Every ounce of passion you exude is given back to you tenfold. Within moments of letting you down you are both bare for each other.

Beomgyu’s skin being exposed is perfect for your nails dying to sink into it. You reach your arms under his that cage against the wall and slowly rake your fingernails down his back. He winces, letting out small noises of pain. The anger and sadness inside you has hit its peak. You’re so fucking angry, but the pained look on his face hurts.

You want to do something about your anger, but you still retract your hands and sink against the wall. Beomgyu looks at you confused before drawing closer. You shy away from him, whimpering as the bitter truth sets in.

Beomgyu didn’t force you to stop talking to Soobin. Beomgyu didn’t force you to ghost your friends. Beomgyu isn’t the cause of your loneliness. 

It’s you.

He reaches out to touch you but you push him away. His saddened eyes make you ache which in turn makes you more angry. But you can no longer bring yourself to hit him. A surge of rage sends your own hand across your face. The sting is distracting, it’s something. You strike your other cheek harder and Beomgyu stops you before you can do it again. 

“No.” He takes your hand and pulls it near his face. Your eyes follow your hand as it closes in on him. 

“Hit me.”

Your eyes move slowly towards his lips as they form the words, then up to his dark, big eyes. They’re swarming with depth and emotion. You take in his entire face, reddened by your hand. Lips swollen from your mouth. Hair tousled in the chaos. You see him.

You thought tears would be a rare occurrence by now, but there goes another, skitting from your cheekbone to the floor. You smile bitterly.

“I can’t.”

The gleam of your tears brings life to your otherwise tired eyes. He wants to question why, to wallow in self pity with his own delusional reasoning. But no, in your face is all the answers he needs. The same reason he hasn’t hurt you once this entire time. You sigh, letting your head fall, your eyes darkening as they close.

“I don’t know what else to do.” You express weakly.

Seeing you tremble silently makes his previous attempts to pin his resentment on you seem absurd. Beomgyu lets go of your hand.

“I don’t either.”

It’s like clarity washes over the both of you at the same time as you both take in your surroundings. Assess the situation. You shake your head.

“Then what are we doing here?” You brush past him in pursuit of your clothing, pick up each article scattered around the room. 

“It’s just like we said. We don’t know what else to do.” He says behind you.

You slow your collection as you let his words sink in. You’ve exhausted every other option. Therapy, rough sex, songwriting, diaries, crying. Then you feel his warmth behind you. Your eyes ease closed as you melt into him. Your mind goes blank and for the first time in a long time, it’s not out of force or sheer exhaustion. Both of you relax into one another. You’d have to go out eventually, explain yourself and face scrutiny. Risk people’s opinions of you degrading. There’s nothing to worry about here. You’ve already seen the worst of each other. There’s nothing to guard in fear.

You turn around to face him. He looks different. Softer. Unintimidating. He could say the same for you. You climb on top of him, shivering as his member brushes against your mound. Your lips meld together like softening butter. They glide, becoming slick with the other’s saliva. 

He glides his nose up the side of your face as he slips inside you. Both of your mouths hang agape as he slots all the way in. He’s buried deep inside you, no space left unfilled. The two of you substitute kissing for pressing your heads together, feeling every part of the other's skin. You trail your tongue across his jaw before kissing up to his ear. Every sense is filled with Beomgyu to the point where you can’t think of anything else. His makeup, his cologne, his body wash, his deodorant, his lotion, his taste, his touch, him, him, him. Your heart swells as he showers you with as much attention as you give him and then some.

Your hips move in unison, grinding together. Once you kiss again there’s no longer any space in between. Disconnecting sends slighter louder pants and moans into the air as you both start moving faster. You’ve never heard him moan like this. It’s so unrestrained and vulnerable, exposing his eagerness just as much as his hands squeezing your ass does. 

You find you feel full in more ways than one right now. He saw you at your ugliest and he’s still here right now holding you like he never plans to let go. As if reading your thoughts, he clutches you even closer. You feel a light, bubbly laugh float from your chest as your legs start to tingle. You gasp as you climax with a stutter of your hips. Your movements slow ‘til they’ve almost ceased as you drowsily rest your forehead on his. The two of you rock back and forth in the only clean circle of the room amongst the chaos.

A moment of serenity is all the two of you are granted when you hear a knock at the door. Soobin comes in, looking disappointed as he regards you both.

“Are you done? Everyone’s looking for you.”

–🖊️⇝

Beomgyu got an earful for disappearing that day. You could’ve gotten into an ungodly amount of trouble if the other MC didn’t stick up for you. He felt responsible and was beyond apologetic. You forgave him, of course. He did nothing wrong. Also, you've come to terms with the fact that you know you have nothing to do with that song. It's someone else's demo you got paid to perform. It doesn't define you.

“Hey, are you coming?” Chaewon asks. You go to answer but notice a couple of conflicted looks from her members. A quick thought that you “better not annoy them” crosses your mind. You imagine tagging along and making things awkward and it makes you wince.

“No, I-”

“Come on.” Yunjin says dismissively and pulls you by the arm to follow them to their next location. 

You sit stiffly on the couch, clapping along to Eunchae’s loud singing as everyone around you cheers.

She concludes with two bows and a loud ‘thank you’ into the microphone. 

“Go ahead and pick who’s next.” Yunjin yells gleefully. You’re too distracted to realize Yunjin’s hand is hovering over you with her finger extended down.

“Hmm…” Eunchae pretends to think about it for a comically short amount of time before yelling out your name. Your confusion is cut short by a cheering Yunjin and Chaewon pushing you toward the screen. She hands you the mic which you take hesitantly. Once they're seated again they initiate a chant.

“Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!”

Your brain does the honors of going over all of the embarrassing ways this could play out. Regardless of that, you’re already singing. It’s either that or running out the door, and the latter would take much more effort and explaining. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

You finish to cheers and applause and you bow in response.

–🖊️⇝

Things in the dorm have gone back to being tense. Soobin isn’t giving Beomgyu the silent treatment this time, but it’s clear he’s disappointed. Everyone is under the impression that they hooked up again only to go back to hating each other. Mostly because you haven’t come over yet. Beomgyu was giving it some time, but now he’s ready.

“Stop acting weird.” He sighs, rubbing his nose bridge. “I did have sex with her. No, the song isn’t about me. We don’t hate each other. You guys can stop tiptoeing around me now.”

The members visibly untense, but only to express confusion.

“Where is she then?” Soobin speaks up, casting a stern look his way.

“Why does her being here matter?” Beomgyu finally gets to ask.

“Remember when you called me naive for having faith in her?” Soobin grits his teeth. “After all that she’s still-”

You cautiously click open the door, slowly revealing your apologetic expression. “I was going to wait but I didn’t…” You stop when you see the hardened look on Soobin’s face upon seeing you. “H-hello everyone.”

Kai stands up and marches over to give you a crushing hug. The gesture makes your heart flutter.

“You didn’t even call.” He pouts.

“I’m sorry.” You squeeze out. Taehyun and Yeonjun come next. Taehyun gives you a side hug while Yeonjun pats your back.

“Welcome back.” Yeonjun says with a wide smile.

The moment is interrupted by Soobin walking out of the living room into his own and slamming the door. You immediately follow after him, an action that Beomgyu watches carefully. Of course he notices a sharp pain in his chest, but he sits with it. Studies it. You could be chasing after him to reveal your true feelings and this time he may accept. He doesn’t want that. It even makes him a little bitter, but he can’t stop you. He can say whatever ugly words come to his mind to try and scare you away, but this time they may not work. And you’re not doing anything wrong. Him cuddling with you and drifting off to sleep in your bed doesn’t mean you’re dating. Moreover, you’re not Hyesoo. He’s seen every part of you by now. Regardless of everything, he’ll still be happy to have you in his life.

“You have sex with me and then never show your face again? Do you know how that feels?” Soobin explains desperately with tears springing to his eyes. “I knew the sex was meaningless, that was the whole point, but for you to up and leave afterward like I was just some random guy really sucks.”

“I-I didn’t want to leave, Soobin. I was too mortified to show my face again.”

“Because that’s what you guys being together does! You break down each other and then turn to breaking down those around you just trying to help. It’s selfish for you to waltz back in here like everything is back to normal.”

“It’s not.” You state confidently. “Everything is very, very different now. I can’t go into public spaces without being recognized, I have more people around me than ever before, and Beomgyu and I don’t hate each other anymore. You said it yourself, we’re similar and we wreck everything around us. We do it to ourselves. Beomgyu realizes it now and I certainly do. I don’t want things to go back to normal, because that version of me is gone.” The more you speak, the easier the words come. You smile hopefully at Soobin.

“I’m moving on with or without you, but I’d really love it if you entered this new chapter with me.”

You grab both of Soobin’s hands as his head droops. He’s silent for what feels like decades passing you by. Then he squeezes your hands.

Epilogue 🖊️⇝

Chaewon: you should apologize.

You pass the phone to Beomgyu in the midst of his “advice”. He crosses one arm over his chest as he reads the very short text for an inappropriate amount of time.

“But you didn’t know, right?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not in the wrong.” You groan, snatching your phone back. He snatches it right back and starts texting. 

“Hey!” You go to take your phone back but he leans away further and further until his body is caging the phone against the couch. You climb over him and bite his shoulder but he just laughs as the text is sent. You frantically snatch your phone back and look in horror.

You: tomorrow at my house 6pm;’2[21

“What the fuck! Beomgyu!” You shriek.

“You didn’t know, therefore you didn’t intentionally do anything wrong. But you did hurt Kazuha’s feelings and the members are very mad at you.” He explains calmly, smacking on his food. 

“Thanks for reminding me of my unfortunate situation.” You deadpan.

“You were worried they think you're a horrible person. Boom–” He motions at your phone with his sandwich. “You can fix that. You’re worried you’re actually a horrible person, but you had no intentions of hurting anyone.”

“Yeah but you weren’t there. The way I said it was so insensitive in context and the look on Zuha’s face,” You whimper and hide your face in your hands.

“You didn’t hurt her on purpose.” The finality in Beomgyu’s voice makes you look up at him. His face is serious. “I’m certain of it. Now come here.” He pats his lap and you’re eagerly scooting over to lay your head on his lap. He sighs.

“You idiot.” He brushes away the tear falling down your face. “Why don’t you listen to me?”

“Hurting someone as sweet as her is pure evil.” You whisper.

“I don’t have to know you to say that an evil person wouldn’t be this remorseful. But knowing you, you’re not the type of person to go into an exchange ready to hurt an innocent person. You’re the type of person who sits quietly thinking about what you could say that will make people laugh the loudest and smile the brightest. I’m very sure that’s what you were thinking that day as well.” He voices his thoughts as he strokes your hair, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the singe of a fire starting in your heart. He smiles lazily and it's the cherry on top of the artwork that is his face. 

You slowly lean up before capturing his lips. It’s slow, tender, loaded. Kissing him after all the chaos feels like lying in a field of dandelions, the seed breaking away and dancing in the wind. His skin feels like the warm hug of sunlight. His voice is like birds singing. You pull away and look at him in awe. He seems to be mirroring your feelings if his drunken expression is anything to go by. He shuts his mouth and brushes the back of his hand against your cheek.

“You’re kissing me outside of us having sex?” Beomgyu sports exaggerated shock and presses his palm to your forehead. His antics force a giggle out of you. “Are you sick?!”

You swipe his hand away, unable to ignore the burning light in your chest as you look at him and he silently looks back. You lean in and kiss him one last time before risking it all once you realize what this feeling is.

“I think I love you.” You whisper, looking desperately at his face to catch anything unsavory. His smile drops, looking genuinely shocked this time. He grabs your face and pecks your lips over and over before moving to the other parts of your face until you're stuck in a fit of laughter. He pulls away with adoration in his eyes.

“I loved you first.”

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.