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ihavethedreamies · 3 months ago

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From Afar | What the Heart Wants (1)

Qian Kun & Nakamoto Yuta (NCT)

Rating: Suggestive (18+) MDNI

Nothing explicitly is said or done, but sexual interactions are implied.

The beginning of this story has the reader underaged, but nothing happens or is implied to happen before she turns 18.

Word Count: ~14.2k

Pairing(s): Kun x AFAB!Reader x Yuta, the primary pairing is Kun x Reader, but it's kinda both for the first part.

Genre: Reader-Insert, Altered History AU!, Royalty AU!, Plot! (wow), Fluff? (not for sure that's what to call this), not quite smut (yet), Angst (but angry)

!!There are mature themes discussed…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Arranged Marriage (ish), Harems/Multiple Wives (more fiancées…), Bullying (see Caution), Some Swearing, Borderline Misogyny/Sexism (you'll see, not from the boys, just like…society), Favoritism, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Pining, One-Sided Crush/Infatuation (or is it?)

Caution: This story is a bit darker than my normal stuff. There isn't bullying throughout, just one intense scene. It's not in a school setting, but I do want to warn anyone reading this that it could be triggering. I'll be real and admit that there is definitely toxicity here, and I know that's what it is, I try to be realistic with my stuff. There is also a part where the reader has a severe allergic reaction, so if that is something that is hard for you to read, be aware. Please let me know if you think I need to add in any more specific warnings or cautions.

Author's Note: This is based off of a dream I had while I took a nap a bit back. I changed some details because what happened in the dream was a little too unrealistic. But, most of it is pretty much the same. I have a lot of Kun dreams, but most of them I can't write a story with because there are weird cross-overs with my real life and often the video game Mass Effect (lol), so…

P.S. Kun is my Ultimate Bias and so…I held back for so long of going down the rabbit hole because I knew I wouldn't be able to crawl out once I did. I am working on another much longer series so that's why I don't have much posted for him yet since I want to get it mostly done before I post any of it.

P.S.S. The reader has a bad allergy to coconut, which is one I have. So, it might seem a bit extreme with her reaction to it, but I know from personal experience how bad I can be with it. I haven't had the same thing happen though.

I split this into two different parts because I hate reading a long story, and then the app or page somehow gets closed, and then you have to scroll to find your spot… The second part is just smut, literally just the smut part, but it was so long I needed to separate the two parts.

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Your life seemed to end before it really began. Things like harems for royalty and royalty itself should be in history books and old stories, not modern times. Yet here you were. Historians often talk about how much different the eastern world might look had Japan been successful in taking Korea nearly 100 years prior. Would they have ruled East Asia rather than the Korean Monarchy? Would China be its own country still? Siam? All you knew is that if World War II had gone much differently, you wouldn't be in the situation you were.

In order to keep the commoners and everyday folks of each country of the Korean Empire in line, the Emperor would marry a noblewoman from each land, therefore forming his Harem. When he was a prince, he had his little group of girls that followed him around and did everything with him, almost like some kind of harem anime or even American dating show. One would be picked to be his 'main wife' and the rest were concubines. That's what you were. Well, almost. You were 'in training' to be a possible concubine or wife. The king had five wives, and a son with each woman. The eldest was Taeyong, from the king's first Korean wife; then Prince Yuta, whose mother was Japanese; third born was Prince Kun, from a Chinese mother; second youngest was Prince Ten with a Siamese mother. His birthname was not used very often since most people didn't know how to pronounce it, and finally the youngest Prince was Prince Doyoung. His mother was Korean as well and since he was the youngest, he had the least responsibilities. Not necessarily in a bad way, but he was quite lazy and didn't go out very often. Each prince had a symbol that then was used to name his girls. Taeyong's was a rose and so his girls were The Petals. Yuta's was the Cherry Tree, so his girls were The Sakura. Kun's was a Bear, and his girls were The Ursas. Ten's symbol was a cat and his girls, The Tabbies. Finally, Doyoung's symbol was a rabbit, so his girls were The Bunnies. The name he chose somewhat showed how little he cared for formality. It was too much effort, and he was actually considered the best prince to follow. None of the princes were bad, though, it was simply that Doyoung was the least strict, and there were less rules overall. Taeyong's group was the most prestigious since he was the Crown Prince, and so it was hard to stay in The Petals.

Many different things could make a girl leave or get kicked out. It was pretty easy to get kicked out actually, but most of the time it was by the other girls. Jealousy and competition were rampant, but if sabotage or cheating was ever even just suspected, you were out. Each prince got their initial set at the age of eighteen, and the girls would be at the most two years younger, never older. So, when Prince Yuta hit the proper age, they sent out the search committee. Your father had told you as a little girl that he would never, no matter how much money was offered, let you go. Unfortunately, he didn't get to make the decision because he passed two years prior. Your mother couldn't manage the family estate and business well either, so she remarried, and of course your stepfather was more than willing to hand you over. You never learned how much he was paid, but you knew, to him, it was more than you were worth.

There were always five girls, two from Korea and one from China, Japan, and Siam as well. When you were escorted to the royal palace, you looked up at the tall arch allowing entry onto the grounds. Due to historical preservation laws, no one actively lived in the palace, but there was a modern campus built for the royal family. The guards let the fancy black car you were being escorted in through and it continued down the road past the elegantly preserved palace. Finally, after nearly five minutes of driving, the vehicle stopped in front of what appeared to be an extremely fancy hotel. You were told the main estate was further into the campus and was where the King and Queen lived with the Concubines. Where you were to live was where the princes and all of their entourages lived. Shakily, you got out of the car when it came to a stop, the heels of your black Mary Jane's clicking on the stone pavement. Your suitcases were removed from the trunk, and they went off to your room as you were led down the opposite hallway. Looking around at your surroundings, the building felt less like a royal residence and more of a luxury apartment building, there were even a few restaurants. Finally, after a long walk in very uncomfortable shoes, you were told to enter a large ballroom and you stood in line with what seemed to be twenty other girls. That was a surprise, you thought for sure you had already been chosen. While you wanted to pray you wouldn't be chosen, you also feared being sent back to your stepfather. Your soft yellow and white dress was probably just as expensive as the other girls’ but seemed much plainer. Standing straight, trying to remember your etiquette training, the line of girls all did the same, stiffening when a door on the other side of the ball room entered. At least, you thought it was a ballroom. There was a stage on the opposite wall and that was it. No tables or chairs, nothing. You felt the girls to your left and right turn their heads to try and see who entered, but you just stared ahead. The three people that entered stopped in the middle of the room, a bit to your left since you were toward the end of the line. The other girls were whispering, and curiosity took over and your eyes flicked to look at them. It was a servant, most likely since he was in a butler's outfit, a man in a business suit, and who you assumed to be the prince. He was beautiful, and that was an objective fact. His dark brown hair was longer, hitting his shoulders and he had it tied back into a half-ponytail. He was not dressed like a prince really; he had on a black T-shirt or tank top with a soft-looking grey sweater over it. He was in jeans and sneakers, and you looked down at your dress, then at the others. You were sixteen, but you felt like a little girl then, with your high-collared, long-sleeved white button-up with a yellow sundress over top. Though, it seemed he preferred casual, and you were the closest to that. His stance was casual as well, arms behind his back, leaning his weight on one leg as he lightly swayed, looking over the line of girls. The servant cleared his throat, and it was like some kind of primal instinct took over, and you placed your hands together over your stomach, and bowed low. No one else did. Panic set in when you realized this, hearing the other girls whispering. Now too nervous to stand back up, you pressed your lips together, but stayed bowed.

"It seems she was the only one raised correctly." A new voice, a woman's, cut in and you heard another person walk in. The woman stopped in front of you, and you only saw the bottom of her dress and shoes, she was dressed in the traditional dark green and blue hanbok.

"You may look up, dear." She prompted and you straightened, looking up slightly at the much older woman. Her hair was graying at the roots, but she was still quite beautiful. Her hair was tied back in a bun with a simple wooden pin and you swallowed under her sharp gaze.

"Prince Yuta, please come here." Her tone changed, and she bowed, stepping to the side and you froze as he left his original position and strode over to you. He stopped before you and you dropped your gaze. Don't look at his face. That was clearly something no one else learned and you were a bit worried about that, though, his handmaiden seemed pleased with you. Didn't mean he would be.

"How old are you?" His voice was soft, deeper than you thought it would be.

"Sixteen, your highness." Your hands still rested over each other, flat against your stomach and you tried not to flinch when his finger went to your chin. He lifted your head, but your eyes stayed down, no matter how badly you wanted to look at his face better.

"Look at me." He prompted and you obeyed. He was even more attractive up close, more handsome than you thought, still pretty. He tipped his head and a similarly pretty smile spread on his face.

"Her."

After that, you were quickly whisked away.

"What will happen with the other girls?" You asked the maid that was taking your measurements after you reached some sort of dressing room.

"He will pick the other nine and you will begin training." The same older woman from before entered then and you nodded jerkily, trying to process everything.

"Training?"

"It seems you have begun on etiquette already, unlike the other girls. That will help. Ten girls will start and after your four years the final five will graduate up. You will all learn everything you need to, to be a good woman of the royal family and possibly a future princess."

"I see." The same maid began holding up different swatches of fabric next to your face, flipping through different colors. Seemingly making a decision, the maid nodded to the head handmaiden, and you stepped off the small pedestal you had been set on.

"Let us go child, I will escort you to the dormitory."

~*~*~

Over the next four years, as you were told, you trained. Ten girls all lived in a four-bedroom apartment, three in two, and two in two. It was miserable. You really didn't mind the training and tutoring itself, it was the clique-like mentality the girls had even within the dorm. Let alone in the other training groups. You felt like an outlier the whole time but staying quiet and laying low helped. You yourself were not bullied, but you weren't friends with the other girls either. Not in any of the groups. Prince Taeyong's girls were a few months ahead of your group and the other three were not even a year younger. The eldest prince was only about four months older than Yuta, and he was only a month, maybe two, older than Kun. The youngest were each a month after. It seemed the King had gotten to work quickly…

For the first year you almost never saw any of the princes, not even Yuta. It seemed the first year was really used to weed out girls, and that was when some of the original twenty made a return. If one of the ten got kicked out or left, they replaced her. That was not what you expected at all, but it seemed you were relatively safe. You only got one demerit over the first year, and it was minor. The rules were strict and after your first dink you never messed up again. What did you mess up? You forgot to put in your earrings before the morning check.

After the second year, you would have more interactions with Prince Yuta, and sometimes the others. That was when you first met the third-born Prince. Kun. Your eyes widened when you saw him, it was like some kind of rose-colored filter hung around him. He was…perfect. You weren't sure exactly what drew you to him so heavily, but it was nearly backbreaking, the weight of your crush. It didn't help that your infatuation was with the completely wrong prince. Most of the girls were good at staying loyal to their boy, and if they weren't, that was grounds for expulsion. It was your first true hinderance and possible snare. The only one, really. Luckily, he wasn't around too often in the second year. For no reason, really, you hated the girls in his group. They were so incredibly fortunate in your eyes and didn't realize how much so. Was Yuta bad? Not in any way, shape or form. He was extremely sweet and kind, generous…but he wasn't Kun. To you, that was his greatest sin. Your obsession was a bit worrying, honestly. Though the girls were given a therapist they could talk with, she was there for things like homesickness and anxiety. Not near yandere-levels of love for a Prince not their own. Okay…it wasn't that bad, but you feared that if your mind ever got too weak, if you broke, it would be that bad. When third year rolled around… It got so much worse. The princes did a lot of things together and if a girl made it to year three, then she got to as well. On the new year of year three, the girls remaining were the final ones. One could leave, but she wouldn't be replaced. So, what most often happened, is the gaggle of fifty girls would each take turns with which five would go on an outing with their prince. What killed you about those, was when you were picked, and Kun would be there. It was hard to keep your wistful stares off of him and you prayed he would stick near Yuta for as long as possible, so you could look at him all the more. He was what most considered to be the handsome one among the half-brothers. Taeyong was what the girls defined as cute-hot. Could be either. Yuta was handsome-pretty, Ten was just pretty and Doyoung was just cute. Kun was handsome to the rest, but to you he was also the cutest, prettiest, and hottest. He was by no means buff, but he was able to build the most muscle tone out of all of them and you couldn't help but stare when his pants were just the right amount of tight around his thighs. When you finally got close enough to really look at him the first time, you cataloged every little feature you could. Especially the beauty mark under his right eyebrow.

~*~*~

You were truly a goner when you attended a causal tennis game the princes were engaging in. Doyoung sat off the side with his girls, and they were literally playing some kind of board or card game instead. You sat with the four other Sakuras on a bench, not even watching the tennis ball fly between Yuta and Taeyong's rackets. You were staring off into the distance, messing with a stray string at the top of your knee-high socks. If the head handmaid saw it… Wrapping your finger around it tight, you yanked to try and pull it away, the elastic tightening with each tug. You were so preoccupied with your sock that you didn't even hear the warning call, but something thunked against the back of your head. You yelped, falling forward off the bench, managing to catch yourself with your hands, but you scraped your knees up badly on the court-floor.

"Hiyomi!" Yuta immediately called and was at your side. You weren't even sure if you would have known he was calling you if he had said your real name. You hadn't heard it in such a long time.

"Good job!" Ten shouted sarcastically and you heard another come to your side.

"Hey, you okay?" Yuta helped you sit up a bit, letting your rest your forehead on his shoulder as he looked at the back of your head.

"I'm so sorry, Hiyomi." Your body froze when the other person's voice seemed to speak right in your ear and another hand rested on your upper back.

"Does it hurt there?" You hadn't even realized Yuta had pressed on your neck at the base of your head. He must have taken your sudden rigidity as a pain response. Carefully, slightly, you turned your head so you could glance out of the side of your eye, through your hair, at a red shirt. Only one of the princes was in a red shirt that day. You were sure your face turned about that same shade when you realized the other boy so close to you was Kun, and that the hand on your back was his.

"Hiyomi?" Yuta prompted again and you flinched back to reality.

"Uh, no." Your own hand came up to run over your head, wincing as you felt the small bump forming under your hair. The hand left your back and you felt Yuta move your hair so he could see where you pressed. You gasped when Kun's hand came back, his fingers gently running over the bump.

"She should probably go to the infirmary." The younger prince decided, and Yuta hummed in agreement.

"I'm so sorry, Hiyomi." He apologized again, and even though it was your alias, hearing him speak your name twisted your insides around.

"I-It's okay." You were too scared to lift your head as Yuta helped you stand, knowing that if you met Kun's gaze then you would fall back to your knees.

"Come on, sweetheart." Yuta wrapped an arm around you so he could lead you toward the building and you felt the glares of your team boring through you. It was evident even before then that Yuta favored you, and it made the girls mad. You never made more of an effort to woo him like they did, you just lived your life naturally, and that seemed to be what appealed to him.

"I guess the nurse isn't here right now." Yuta had helped you sit on the edge of one of the two cot-like beds and then he kneeled in front of you.

"Do you mind if help with your knees?" He had noticed the scrapes, and you shook your head with a hum, and he left to get the first aid kit. It was then you really felt the pain in your head, but you hadn't even seen stars, so you doubted you had a concussion. The tennis ball hadn't been going that hard, it had bounced on the court before it hit you, slowing it down pretty good. When the prince came back, he cleaned the scrapes and you winced at the sting. He was so gentle and put ointment on as well before the band-aids. As his thumb smoothed over the bandage, he opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse decided to return right then. He went back out to the tennis court as she looked you over and she suggested you rest for a bit, there was no concussion evident, but you did still get hit in the head.

You had managed to drift half-way to sleep, and you somewhat registered hearing the nurse step out, and someone not too long after coming in. It was a different person for sure, they weren't in heels, and you wondered if it was the head handmaid. Flittering your eyes open when you felt them move to your bedside, you jerked in shock.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" You tried not to panic, eyes falling quickly to the white logo on his red shirt. You were allowed at that point to look at Yuta's face, but you weren't sure about the other princes. Plus, if you did, you might just explode.

"N-No." You shook your head against the pillow and shuffled under the light blanket. Fuck. You tried not to wince when he kneeled down so he could meet your gaze. He smiled. You were done for.

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to let the ball hit you. I tried to go after it, but I'm not very fast." Kun huffed bashfully and you just gaped. Speak! Say something, stupid!

"I-It's okay."

"Can you tell Yuta you're not mad at me? He looked like he wanted to kill me." You knew the look. Yuta was definitely the scariest of the brothers.

"Y-yes." He sighed in relief at that and stood back up.

"I should probably go before you get in trouble for me being in here." He huffed in annoyance and then waved as he left the little infirmary. You were truly and royally, ironically, screwed.

~*~*~

Of course, it got worse through the third and into the fourth year. All the teams had been narrowed down to the final five, the girls that were weeded out were essentially turned into the reserve team. You didn't know what that meant until after you graduated. And you did. You were in the final five for The Sakuras, the little junior harem of Prince Yuta. You were also the forerunner, the informal leader despite being the youngest, but you were the least popular. Out of all twenty-five girls, they all either hated you or didn't care to acknowledge your presence. To them you put in very little effort to get to your rank, well, how you ranked to Yuta. In actuality, you put in the most effort, and had no demerits and never had to make up in any of your training. All of the other maknaes, the youngest, were the favorites of the other girls. Not you. You didn't fit the cutesy, sweet image you were supposed to it seemed. The graduation wasn't going to be until April. Because the princes were so close in age, they decided to just do everyone at the same time, and that just made the internal competition even worse. Though, your favor with the head handmaiden granted you a privilege. Early information. You knew things before anyone else, you were warned. That's how you saw it anyway. It seemed that there would be another year of training after graduation. Everyone was of age by then, which meant the sexual teachings started. It had to wait till you were finally assigned to your prince, since he would head your 'studies'. You were to learn what he liked, how he liked it and so on. It was a rumor by that point, and many girls were unbothered by this. It made sense and they were okay with it since they would be future wives anyway, and some were even looking forward to it. You didn't hate Yuta, not anything close. You did like him, but… You decided then that you had to give up on the younger Prince. You were Yuta's, and that was final. You also learned that the girls that fell through the cracks more or less joined a brothel, modern day gisaeng for the princes and their friends. Not only did the girls graduate in April, so did the princes. And that meant everything changed. You wouldn't say that they turned into scoundrels, but finally they were more-or-less unrestrained, so they let loose. Parties. Drinking. Sex. Lots of it. You never asked about the other princes, not wanting to learn that your beloved prince had fallen into debauchery as well. Their personalities hadn't changed, they weren't abusive or even rude, but they turned into animals. You heard that Ten and his friends had full orgies with his girls and the extras. You knew when Johnny showed up that something utterly filthy was about to go down.

Taeyong seemed to be more restrained, but he was somewhat selfish. He didn't want to share his Petals, but that didn't mean that it wasn't just as naughty what happened in his quarters. Doyoung preferred more low-key engagements, but just because there was only one girl in his bed didn't mean they weren't going at it for hours on end. The only first-hand knowledge you had was with Yuta. Obviously. Honestly, you seemed to be corrupted more and quicker than the other girls. It was one of the few times you felt like you could be yourself, not constantly worried about doing and saying the right things. It was a good outlet as well for all the emotions you pushed down and hid. You were open to most things, mostly because Yuta was by no means selfish. You preferred the more carnal and kinky acts honestly; you weren’t sure you could ‘make love’ to him. The only thing that first gave you pause was when he asked if you would be okay with two of his friends joining. No other girls, just the three guys and you. It was a bit scary at first, and you wondered if your future husband had some sort of fetish, but his reasoning shocked you.

"You let me do whatever I want, Hiyomi. I want to spoil you." He spoke between kisses along your neck, your shoulder exposed from where his shirt had fallen over it. Yuta wasn't that big for a man, but he was bigger than you, his clothes baggy on your body. If you asked him, he probably would be okay with just one wife. And it would be you. You wished it wasn't though. Even with the comparatively few interactions you had over the years with Kun, you had hopelessly fallen for him, and you were content to pine after him in the distance for the rest of your life. That was better than nothing at all.

"W-which friends?" You shivered as his fingers ran over your back under the garment you had on, one finger slipping under the waist band of your lacey panties.

"Jungwoo. Mark?" His arms wrapped around you and pulled you down further into his lap, his hard cock straining against his pants. It seemed the thought alone turned him on. Those two? That was fine. Most of the princes' friends were shared, but Yuta was the closest with the two he offered. It made sense. It was odd at first to think about it, but if you weren’t sleeping with Yuta out of love, then it wouldn’t be too much different with them. And, based off what you knew the other girls did, it was actually relatively mild.

"You don't have to, sweetheart." Yuta nuzzled under your ear, and you sighed.

"That’s fine." It became a somewhat regular occurrence. And, as far as you knew, the other girls were not in a similar arrangement. But they knew, or at least, knew parts. This made them hate you more, they saw it as favor. It was one thing for a prince to indulge himself in three women, it was another for one woman to get ravished by a prince and his two friends. That was the ultimate sign of favor, you were good enough to not just get solo access to Yuta whenever but get the same treatment from his two just-as-attractive friends. The other girls knew, but they didn’t realize it was a common thing, just once in a blue moon. You didn't talk about it, because you knew how the others would be with it, and it honestly made you want Kun more. Somehow. Even with three men only wanting to please you, you wanted more… Not more, just someone else.

~*~*~

You had a close call though, you almost got found out. There was some big event that the princes were having, some formal party. It wasn't a drunken orgy or anything, almost like some kind of game night with all their friends. All of the girls went as well, it was supposed to be childish fun. You hated it. Not minding cuddling up with Yuta, you hated doing it with all the girls glaring at you. Mostly the other four in your group, because it made his favor toward you all the more obvious. You managed to get through the night, taking the chance to watch Kun without restraint when they decided to start some karaoke. He was the second-best singer after Doyoung, but none of the brothers were slouches. Some of their friends were pretty good themselves, could have been their jobs. It wasn't you ogling him while he sang that gave you away though. And, either fortunately, or horribly, Kun was the one that noticed. The guys were all taking random pictures together, and you stood at the side watching, honestly enjoying the random things they were doing. At some point Kun ended up sitting on the floor, holding up his closest friend, Chenle, so he didn't fall off of Jeno's back where he stood. You covered your mouth and giggled, eyes flicking to Kun as they tried to hold the pose for the picture. His eyes flashed to meet yours and you felt yours grow wide. He smiled, straight at you, and not the sweet one he normally gave at formal events or to diplomats and other public figures. It was a smirk, and it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. You knew your face was once again red as a cherry, you could feel the heat leaving your skin. You quickly avoided his look; hand going to try and cover your face as you slipped away from the crowd and toward the restroom. You splashed cold water on your face, then met your own frazzled gaze in the mirror. Taking a few deep breaths, you moved to leave but heard voices in the hall, so you halted.

"You know that Jingxian girl is a bitch, right?" The voice was familiar, but quieter than you were used to, so you almost didn't recognize it was Chenle.

"That's harsh." Another person replied. Renjun?

"It's true." That was Yangyang.

"Wait, was she the one who threw her soup at that maid while they were in Europe?" Renjun asked.

"Yeah. She also apparently pretty much stole some girl's necklace that she liked when she went to Japan with…I think her name is Eiko?" Chenle replied.

"Kun-ge told me that she had taken some book from one of Yuta's girls and threw it in a fountain. It was signed or something. He made her replace it and she had to pay like a million won." Your arm jerked away from the handle then. Yuta told you a maid had done it on accident…

"Was it the quiet one he got the leather satchel for?" You shook your head a bit in shock. Yuta got that for you…you thought.

"He told me he tried to get Yuta to let him have her in the beginning, but he said no." Chenle continued, and their voices faded as they continued down the hall. Your head was swimming and your heart had started to race again. There was nothing you could do if all that was true. You were Yuta's, and that was final.

~*~*~

There was a final straw for the other Sakuras though. At it would be their downfall it seemed, and they only fell because they weren’t careful when trying to push you over the edge first.

You were in the lounge, the area big enough to easily accommodate all of the girls and let them have all kinds of fun. Your favorite place was on the top bunk, of essentially a bunk-couch. Instead of a bunk bed, there was a nice soft couch with a wooden loft over it, and another couch on top with ladder-like staircase to get you up on. That was your favorite place. It was removed from the central conversation-pit-like area where most of the girls gathered. They would play drinking games and tell all sorts of lurid stories and secrets, while you would sit under the dim light of a lamp and read.

"Hiyomi, come here!" The girl that called you, Eiko, was the second eldest of your group. She was the only one that was actually Japanese herself, but even then, she was given a different name. You each were granted one from Yuta himself, you weren't even sure he knew any of your real names. Your birthnames didn't matter anymore.

Sighing, you reluctantly put your bookmark in your novel and trudged over to the group. Not everyone was there, Ten's girls were probably off getting drunk and defiled, and three of Taeyong's were with him abroad. Sitting down gently in an armchair, you smoothed your skirt down as you did and stiffly rested back.

"We're playing truth or dare." Of course they were.

"Okay?" They never invited you to play anything or do anything with them unless they were forced to. The competition had gotten much worse lately. As the Princes all approached the grand age of 25, they would finally choose their main wife. You were in the lead, to no one's surprise, but to everyone's chagrin. Yours included. You shot a quick glance at Jingxian. She was the forerunner of the Ursas…Kun's favorite seemingly. She was refined, elegant, beautiful. To many she was kind, sweet, but she was cold to you. She was never rude in person and as far as you know, after the book incident she didn't do anything. That was better than cruel though. She was close with Eiko, and you assumed that was why she disliked you so much, since Eiko cared so little for you. You didn't associate much with any of Kun's girls, but still you hated them. No, that wasn't the right word, you envied them. The worst thing was, you knew that Jingxian didn't love Kun. Just like you didn't love Yuta. She was enamored with Taeyong. Well, maybe not him, but his status. He was the crown prince, which would mean she could be queen if she was chosen. You weren't sure who else knew this, but you knew it was grounds for her to be more-or-less banished. If you really wished, you could out her, and get her kicked out, but what was the point? That wouldn't help you any, and there was no point in lashing out at her out of jealousy. That would make you just like all the others.

"Come sit here." Eiko was being way to friendly, which made you way suspicious. You followed her prompt though; you were the youngest after all. There was an empty soju bottle in the middle, the girls clearly having finished it off earlier.

"I'll start." One of the Petals started; her name was Anjeong. She spun the bottle, and you held your breath, only sighing gently in relief when it landed on Eunhwa, the eldest Bunny.

"Truth or dare, unni?"

"Hm." Eunhwa tapped her finger on her chin, "truth."

"How big is Prince Doyoung's cock?" She prompted and the girls chattered with curiosity. You zoned out then, knowing how this whole thing was going to go. Your eyes drifted to watch the gas flames in the fireplace. As you glanced back at the bottle as it was spun again, not even hearing her answer, your eyes passed over Lumei. She was the maknae of the Ursas, and you hated her the most. You could have been her; she was only about a month younger than you. She didn't seem to notice your glare and she giggled when the bottle landed on her when Eunhwa spun it.

"Truth or Dare, Lumei?"

"Dare!" She decided quickly and Eunhwa looked thoughtful for a second, looking around. She smirked and cast a devilish look at Jingxian before looking back to Lumei.

"Show us what Prince Kun's favorite position is." You wondered if they noticed you go still. Completely. You couldn't show a reaction, you didn't want to let any of them know your secret. They would use it to assassinate you. Jingxian scoffed at the question, over-dramatically.

"I don't think she's can." She grinned coyly, taking a sip of her wine and Lumei sent her a playful sneer.

"Honestly, I can't really show you, because I myself can't do it. But…" Lumei looked around and then climbed onto the couch behind her. She sat on it backwards, knees on the back of the couch, back to the cushion, her head hanging over the edge, hair flowing to the floor. She opened her mouth wide and just sat there a second, the other Ursas giggling. Your jaw clenched, eyes stinging, but you still didn't move.

"Her gag reflex is too sensitive." Jingxian pressed on her throat, and she hacked, sitting up to catch her breath around laughs.

"I can't even open my mouth that wide…" Mianyu mumbled, and the girls chattered and giggled. Your tongue ran over your lips, and you pondered if you could. You were all too familiar with that position Lumei mimicked, and at first you had been disgusted at her pose. But now you would enjoy it with Yuta more, you could imagine Kun instead. Like you often did. Your gag reflex was practically nonexistent, whether it was genetics or a fluke, it had always been that way.

"Okay!" Your eyes flicked to the bottle as Lumei spun it, still giggling, clearly tipsy. You sagged in relief when the bottle landed on Aikiro then. She was your biggest rival…in her eyes anyway. She outright despised you, she felt she should be the favorite just because she was the ‘leader’. Okay…whatever.

"Trush or dare?" The Ursa maknae hiccupped and you wondered if the blood going to her head made her drunker.

"Truth." She leaned back against the couch she sat in front of, sending a wry look your way. What did you do? You rolled your eyes and looked back at the fire.

"How many times have you done it with Yuta, and Jungwoo and Mark?" she asked, and silence fell over the group. Your eyes widened a bit, but you didn't look back to the group.

"You idiot!" Mianyu slapped the back of Lumei's head, and she yelped.

"What?" Aikiro nearly growled.

"W-well. I mean, everyone knows that Yuta invites them over a lot. Jinyu said…"

You felt four heated gazes fall on you and you licked your lips, looking slowly back at everyone else. Your eyes flicked to Jinyu who was staring at the floor, zoned out.

"What do you mean, a lot?" Aikiro looked back at Lumei who shriveled under her glare, pressing closer to Jingxian.

"E-every Friday." She replied. Before you could look back to your fellow Sakuras, you flinched as Aikiro stormed over, dumping her wine all over your head. You exhaled in shock, closing your eyes to prevent the alcohol from running into them.

"You fucking bitch! You told them? I bet you brag about it." You grit your teeth, reaching for the nearby tissue roll, but Eiko snatched it from your reach, her own drink joining. The fruity scent of whatever kind of pre-mixed cocktail she was drinking stung your nose and your hair started to drip.

"H-hey!" Gyuri, the kindest one there, the maknae of Doyoung's bunnies, tried. She really did try, but… You winced and grunted when a hand grabbed the back of your hair, yanking your head back so were forced to look up at the owner. Keiho was the oldest, out of all the girls actually, but she was the most cruel. She was the most two-faced as well. Your eyes flicked to her drink, expecting her to dump it on you as well, and your face fell. It was a bottled pina colada. Coconut. Everyone knew you were super allergic to it, couldn't even eat anything made in the same factory as coconut products.

"Hm, I wonder if you would like the taste of this?" Keiho took a sip before looking at the label on the bottle and she let go of your hair just long enough to let Eiko take over.

"Wait, Keiho-" Mianyu stood then, trying to go forward. Before she could get very far though, Jinyu grabbed her wrist, halting her. No one but you seemed to notice Gyuri slip away from the group and out the door. You prayed she was going to get help. Your heart was pounding, you were scared, legitimately. This wasn't a joke, not a game anymore. They were seriously out to hurt you. Keiho swirled the bottle a bit, and let it tip slightly, a drop falling from the mouth and landing on your cheek. It didn't take any more than five seconds for your skin to start itching, and the girls around you could see the skin already starting to redden, following the path of the drop before it landed on the floor. You tried to wiggle free at that point, out of Eiko's grip, but the final Sakura, Yumi, sat behind you in the chair, holding you in place. She giggled, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Should I tell them about Kun?" Her voice was so soft you almost didn't hear her. You froze then, eyes wide, looking toward Jingxian.

"She knows too, you know." Yumi whispered and then you saw the other woman smirk. The other girl still didn't let Mianyu go and help you. Aikiro kneeled then, joining Yumi in restraining you, her hand going to your face and pressing on your cheeks to force your mouth open. A tear fell from your eye, and you tried to shout, but Eiko's hand left your hair and landed on your throat. Not enough to cut off your air, but in just the right spot to silence you. Keiho swirled the drink again and was just about to tip it again, but she hesitated. Why? Your eyes met hers and she seemed to realize how bad it would be to do what she wanted, seeing the raising red welt on your face from just a drop. It wasn't like your tongue and throat would slowly swell shut, it could shut your body down faster than anyone could get help.

"Don't be a fucking coward." Jingxian snapped, slamming her wine glass down onto the side table so hard it sloshed from the glass. She snatched the bottle from Keiho, and she tipped it-

The sliding door slammed open, the loud noise startling her. The girls all looked in horror at the door, and you watched in terror as the bottle fell from her hand, the alcohol splashing onto you, and a swig or two fell into your still open mouth. You choked, trying to spit the liquid out, your mouth already burning, and the girls let you go as Yuta stormed into the room and straight to you.

"Hiyomi!" You spat more out, nearly tempted to force yourself to throw up…if you even could. Your mouth and face burned, your skin and eyes itched, and tears fell from your eyes as your head grew foggy. You were already wheezing, and Yuta was at your side immediately. A second person landed on your other side.

"Sit her up." You let Yuta move you, slumping back into him and watching blearily as the nurse brought the EpiPen down and injected the medicine into your thigh. You felt some relief at the moment, and you grew tired quickly but your breathing was still shallow. The nurse went ahead and injected the second shot and your body seemed to get enough relief that it wanted rest then.

"Hiyomi!" A third voice hit your ears and you blearily looked to see someone else dash in, heading for you as you fell unconscious.

~*~*~

You awoke to the sound of beeping, and distant voices. You blinked to clear your vision and it was clear you were in a hospital. You cringed, looking down at the IV in your arm…You really preferred it in your hand. You felt like you couldn’t bend your arm, and they had put it on your dominant side to boot. Groaning, you adjusted in the bed, your body and head felt heavy. The voices got louder; you could recognize one was Yuta's.

"They did it on purpose, everyone knows how allergic she is to coconut."

"I'm not saying what they did wasn't bad, but are you really okay with getting rid of your entire harem but Hiyomi?" It was another man, a voice you only ever heard in person once. It was the King.

"Father, if I had to pick only one wife, ever, it would be her. She was going to be my main wife anyway. I think having five of them is ridiculous anyway."

"Yuta-"

"I'm not the heir, anyway, so why does it matter?" You didn't hear a response if there was one.

"What about Jingxian and Jinyu?" Jinyu? She was there, but she hadn't done anything that you remembered.

"Get rid of them." Kun's voice was clear. And sharp.

"Didn't you tell me Jingxian was most likely your choice?"

"Not anymore."

"Jinyu too, then?"

"Wasn't it her idea?" Silence.

"Yuta, did what those six tell you not matter?"

"What?" Kun asked then, confused. You strained to hear Yuta's response.

"Yumi. She…she told me that Hiyomi likes you." Finally, your prince spoke. You heard the beeping of your heart monitor increase and felt it in your chest.

"Your highness, I found it!" A maid's voice joined, and you furrowed your brow, listening.

"There's a lock on it." What?

"Just snap it off." Your mouth went dry. Your journal. How'd she know about it? You were more than careful. Or so you thought.

"Did Miss Janyeon have the key to her lock box?"

"Yessir." Fuck. But, if the King requested, it wasn't like she could refuse. That was it. You were out. At least you didn't die.

"I knew all this." Yuta's soft voice was loud in your ears and your breath hitched. What?

"You did?" Kun and the King asked at the same time.

"She's careful. But I know her too well by this point."

"Why didn't you say anything?" the King prompted.

"She was mine, that's all I cared about. It was selfish, but… It is a bit worse than I thought." Yuta huffed.

"What do you want to do, Kun?" Their father moved on.

"It's up to her." It was hard to read his tone, and even in the other room, you could feel the tension rise just by the lack of response from Yuta.

"She's mine." His tone was harsh, you had only heard him angry one other time. Right before you passed out. It felt like minutes of silence passed.

"If that's what she wants." Kun spoke finally.

"I think we owe her a decision, since she went through such an ordeal. It’s impressive she kept it hidden so well, and didn't ever act on it, or act out against the other girls. I might not be around much, but your mothers are, and they tell me everything. She's brave and strong for all the shit the other girls put her through. For now, let's keep it hidden we all know, let her choose her next actions without interference. If she chooses Kun, what will you do Yuta?"

"If you love something, you gotta learn to let it go." His defeated tone made your throat clench. You didn't want to hurt him, you really cared for Yuta. You also knew that your feelings for Kun were borderline insane, if not straight-out irrational. It was infatuation, you weren't allowed to get close enough to him to call it love. You were starting to realize then, that it was probably Yuta's doing. Especially if he knew. Maybe that was why he kept you at his side if the others were around, you thought it might be to protect you from the other girls…

"That's a lot different than what you said three years ago."

"Fuck off."

"Yuta, if you allow her to choose Kun instead, you won't have anyone. It would look bad on me." their father pressed.

"If she leaves me, I'll abdicate." You gasped at that. Yuta was second born, even if he wasn't the crown prince, he was closer to the throne than anyone else. He was right after Taeyong, which would put him in a high position when the eldest became King.

"Yuta-"

"If Kun ditches his girls. If Hiyomi chooses you, you can only have her. She deserves the world, and you better fucking give it to her." You closed your eyes, a tear leaving your eye as you made your own decision. No matter how desperately you had wanted Kun the last four years, Yuta was willing to risk everything for you. You couldn't let him do that.

"Would it look bad for the third-born to have one wife?" Kun asked then and you clenched your jaw, the beeping on the machine picking up. You glanced at it, not sure how to read the numbers, worried if you got any more emotional it would set it off.

"I'm going to tell you boys something that no one else can know. Doyoung already requested that he only marry Gyuri. He's tired of dealing with the girls' drama. Ten doesn't care much for an actual marriage to anyone. Taeyong is willing to have the harem if he's king, since it was the deal for the imperial alliance. He already chose Sooyoung to be the crown princess. I remember when I was your age, all of the crap the girls did to each other, the backstabbing, the gossip. The only girl I've seen that hasn't played into any of it was Hiyomi. Even your mothers love her. If she chose Yuta, what would you do Kun?" More silence.

"If that's what she wants-"

"What the fuck do you want?" Yuta spat.

"Honestly? I want to take her from you. I have for years. I know you said, father, to let her decide without us interfering, but… I'm not going to just sit by." The King sighed so hard that you heard it, your head was spinning trying to process everything.

"If she feels safe with it, I want to bring those six to her. Make them apologize. Hiyomi can decide if they will simply be expelled or if she wants to press charges legally." Your mind ran rampant in that moment. The king was letting you decide? All of your hurt and anger, resentment, jealousy; everything bubbled inside.

"I will have someone speak to Mianyu and Lumei as well. I have a hard time believing they had no part to play, or at least that they didn't know." The king finished and the conversation died, and you assumed they left. A door opened and you realized they had been in the room next door, sharing the wall that was behind your head. Your own door started to open, and you partially shut your eyes, pretending that you just woke up.

"Miss Hiyomi?" A woman spoke a nurse entered, with Yuta behind her. No one else.

"Yes?" You opened your eyes more, continuing the act.

"Do you know where you are?"

"The hospital." You hadn’t hit your head, why wouldn’t you know?

"It was good the nurse had those EpiPens ready, you had a very quick and severe reaction. We're going to keep you here overnight and if all is good, you can go back tomorrow." The nurse smiled and then left after taking note of your vitals, leaving you with Yuta. He sat in the chair next to your bedside, taking your hand in his.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like crap." You admitted and he couldn't help but sigh with a defeated smile.

"I would think. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Could I have some water first?"

"Oh!" He got up and went to get what you requested, probably from a vending machine or something. You hated tap water… Yuta returned, and he helped you sit the bed up more as you took a swig from the bottle. You noticed his brow furrow, and his thumb rubbed over your cheek, it must have been a bit red still.

"What happened, (Y/N)?" You nearly choked, luckily you hadn't taken a sip.

"W-what?"

"(Y/N)." He reiterated and you closed the bottle, lip quivering a bit. It had been so long since you heard that name…

"I didn't know you knew my real name." you whispered.

"I shouldn't. But I asked." You had a hard time meeting his eye, so you just rested back, eyes closed.

"I was stupid. I was just reading, and they invited me over to play truth or dare." You huffed in annoyance, "I was suspicious immediately, but I went along with it. I…" You didn't want him to know you heard their conversation, or that you knew he knew about your feelings for Kun.

"I hadn't even been picked, but Lumei asked Aikiro about…about Jungwoo and Mark." You finally looked at him and he nodded, realization painting over his worried expression.

"It was clear that only I get the…privilege." You weren’t sure what else to call it.

"Aikiro got pissed and so she dumped her wine on me. Eiko dumped her cocktail on me and they with Yumi held me while Keiho threatened to make me drink her pina colada." His brow instantly furrowed, anger clearly taking over. But he was the quiet, scary angry type.

"Keiho hesitated, so Jingxian grabbed it from her and decided to do it herself…" You shivered a bit, feeling angry yourself. You never felt so mad. Sad, upset, hurt, frustrated? Yes. Not anger, not the rage you felt taking over.

"What about Jinyu?"

"Jinyu?" You played along. Yuta sighed.

"Apparently it was her idea. We decided that those six need to go. Father wants them to apologize first. He said it was up to you if they get expelled or if you want to get the police involved." You knew all of that already, but you were able to put on a bewildered expression.

"I can decide?" Your prince didn't say anything, and you wondered if he was thinking about his willingness to let you decide about him, or Kun.

"Yes, of course."

"What…what about you and them?" He didn't look at you and you wondered how he would word what you already knew.

"I only need you." He told you softly and you tried to hide your wince.

"Will you meet with them? You don't have to."

"No, I want to hear them apologize. And I want to tell them they're expelled. And I want to press charges." You turned your determined gaze to Yuta; he had never seen you look so harsh. But it made him smile.

"Good."

~*~*~

The doctors determined you were good to be discharged the next day and when you got back to the Sakuras’ dorm, it didn't look any different. You then remembered you wanted to be the one to tell them they were expelled, so you got to. The rest of them weren't in there, but there were maids scurrying about in their bedrooms, packing up their stuff.

"Hiyomi!" You turned as the head handmaiden came in and her hands went to your face, looking you over.

"You poor child." She sighed after you told her in detail what you went through.

"I'm sorry I had to help them find your diary." She pulled the journal out of the top of her hanbok, the lock had been broken off.

"It's okay." You took it from her, "did you look at it?"

"No, child. I know how to respect someone's privacy." You nodded in thanks, and she left to attend to other duties and so you entered your own room. Nothing had been touched, at least it seemed that way, but you still checked. Finding everything was in line, you got changed into something a bit more formal for the rest of the day. Looking in the mirror, you put on the brown and black plaid jacket that matched your skirt. Adding the beret of the same pattern, you pulled it further back, then readjusted your thigh-high socks. After, since you had about an hour to kill before you were supposed to confront the girls, you rummaged through your things. Many of your nicer accessories and little trinkets were from Yuta. Your mind went back to the conversation you had overhead nearly three years prior. Plucking the familiar book off your shelf, you looked over it, the spine was wrinkled from many read-throughs and the signature was in a slightly different spot than the original. It was your favorite book, and it made sense why Jingxian targeted it, but how did she know? Probably Eiko… You then looked at your leather satchel, you used it constantly, and you had nearly forgotten that apparently, Yuta hadn't got it for you. Did Kun really get it instead? Or did he suggest it? Get it for Yuta to give you? You didn't know. The other little gifts started to leave a sour taste in your mouth, making you wonder if he had lied about any of the rest. Your glass paperweight in the shape of a cat went missing, and supposedly a maid found it in your laundry, so he brought it back. A set of manga you liked had a limited edition only sold in Japan that he got for your birthday. But…he hadn't been in Japan when they were on sale. Kun had been though. Letting your thoughts loop into the negative, you gathered all of your gifts, minus the bag, and piled them on your desk. The bag was a practical item, so it was allowed some grace, but you wanted to ditch the rest for some reason. Why did you feel so mad at Yuta? It wasn't like he did anything wrong, technically, he just continued to act like he didn't know about your feelings for his half-brother.

"Lady Hiyomi?" A soft voice called after a knock on your door. A younger maid had come to escort you to a sitting room where you were to meet with the girls. Swallowing the few nerves you had, surprisingly, you followed after her and entered the room. It was empty, no one else was there-

"(Y/N)." You startled, only noticing Kun as you got further into the room. He was sitting on the couch under a window, and you wondered why Yuta wasn't there. He looked gorgeous as always; his hair dyed a dirty blonde and slightly wavy, and he had on a navy and white letterman jacket.

"(Y/N)?" If Yuta wasn't supposed to know your real name, how did Kun? That didn't matter, you were there with him, alone. And he was coming toward you. That's when you got nervous, and you gripped your hands together to hide their quaking.

"Yuta told me. I…I needed to show you something before everyone else gets here." He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and you glanced up at his face to see his clearly upset expression. He tapped on the device, and you heard an audio recording start.

"Can you help me or not?"

Yuta?

"I can, but what's in it for me?"

Was that…Jinyu?

"I'll make it so you can leave. Get out of here." "What do you want me to do?" "Come up with the plan yourself but figure out a way for the other four Sakuras to get expelled." "Can't you do it yourself?" "Not without a reason. Public image and shit. I really don't care about the rest of them, I just want Hiyomi. Can you do it?" "Probably. You wanted me to drag Jingxian too, right?" "Please. She's gotten on my last fucking nerve. She has to know about Hiyomi and Kun, why else would she be such a bitch?" "I know that's it. What was the last thing she did again?" "Something petty, poured bleach on her favorite dress. I got her a new one and she didn't even notice, but…" "How many things have you replaced?" "Like seventeen or something crazy. Those are just the ones she doesn't know I did, too." "You know, if you weren't my cousin, I wouldn't do this." "Bullshit, you know that's not why. We're only second cousins." "I'm serious, Yuta. I couldn't care less about the others." "Even Kun?" "Kind of hard to like your future husband when you're a lesbian."

It was clear there was more to the recording, but he cut it off. You were silent for some time, trying to process everything you just heard. You stumbled and Kun quickly pocketed his phone and reached out to stabilize you, then led you to the couch.

"Did…did Yuta know what the plan was?"

"I doubt it. But…it still was partly because of him." You slumped against the back cushion, resting your cheek on it, mind swirling. Your hat fell from its place, and you just pulled it all the way off.

"W-what do you make of it?" You needed more information; your emotions were so turbulent you couldn't even decide for yourself what to feel.

"Well…I know Jingxian was such a bitch because I like you." He just straight out admitted it and your body froze, your default response. He must have noticed the jolt you gave as your body stiffened and his hand went to your chin, prompting you to look up at him. Being so close to him, it took your breath away, he was even more stunning up close. And his eyes were so gentle and warm, not the same sharp heat you normally got from Yuta.

"Honestly, early on I tried to get Yuta to let you go, so I could have you instead, but he refused." Kun sighed, then huffed with dry amusement, "I'll admit I'm a little crazy when it comes to you."

"Birds of a feather…" You mumbled and he let your face go and you just slumped against the couch again.

"You know how Yuta gets you two presents for your birthday?"

"One's from you, huh?" You guessed accurately it seemed.

"How-"

"A few years back, I overhead your friends in the hall. They said that you made Jingxian replace my signed book. I know my bag was from you. Looking at it now, those gifts make a lot more sense. They would be so different from each other. Yuta would get me a pretty set of earrings and a necklace, but then there would be a full book series. Or instead of nice shoes, it would be a galaxy print. The year-long pass to the planetarium?" Kun was more of an intellectual than Yuta for sure, he was the only one of the princes that went to college. That was part of the reason you liked him so much, he was more similar to you than anyone else there. You knew that even with the restricted amount of time you had around each other.

"How did you get that recording?" You asked when it seemed he was struggling to find a response. He glanced up at you, head still bowed, dirty blonde bangs falling over his brow.

"Jinyu sent it to me with a caveat. She made me promise that you wouldn't press charges against her. She doesn't mind the expulsion, would welcome it…"

"Did you know that she was…?"

"Yeah. She told me early on."

"Yes, it was her idea, but… Yuta prompted her, and if you promised her that, I'll respect it." Your expression hardened then, so quickly it made Kun raise his brow in surprise.

"I can't believe him. I know…" You swallowed hard, "I guess he did it because he loves me. Or that might be what he says, but for all this time…" You exhaled hard through your nose, brow furrowing.

"Yes, I want to get back at the girls even past kicking them out, pressing legal charges. They put me through so much shit for so long…And I shouldn't be this mad at Yuta, but… I want to get back at him too." Your last sentence was much quieter, you felt ashamed of your rage toward him, but that recording just bubbled everything over. You looked up then, fully to make eye contact with Kun.

"I just…I don’t know how. Help me?" The other prince hummed, leaning into the back cushion himself, looking pensive.

"I shouldn't be as sadistic as I want…" Your phone alarm went off then, meaning the others would be coming rather soon.

"Think on it, I'll go with what you plan." You told him, standing to adjust your clothes. Stepping over to a mirror, you put your hat back on, fixing your rumpled hair as well. The king was coming too after all. As you primped, Kun stepped up behind you so you could see him in the reflection as well. He wasn't any taller than Yuta, but that did still put him nearly a head taller than you since you weren't in heels. You gasped, watching his arms wrap around you from behind, his cheek pressing against the side of your head. The black fabric of his sleeve smelled amazing, like him of course. Your heart started to beat so hard you were sure he could hear it, maybe even feel it where his chest met your back.

"Tell me, what does Hiyomi mean? Do you know?"

"Something with sunlight and beauty." You had learned Japanese in your training, but that didn't mean you knew name etymology. Yuta had mentioned it before though.

"How do you like Yuhua?" You assumed it was something similar…was he already thinking of picking a different name for you? Honestly, it was the next best after your birthname.

"Perfect." You whispered and nearly whined when he pulled away abruptly, the door opening not even thirty seconds later. Your posture immediately corrected itself, and you bowed your head as the King entered, followed by Yuta, then the six girls were escorted in by a few of the royal guards. Though, they looked more like federal agents…

"Sit." One of them ordered and the clearly dismayed girls followed. There was still evidence of mascara running and their faces were blotchy and red. They weren't in their fancy clothes either, having been dressed in clothes similar to the uniforms worn as trainees. Plain pleated skirts and button ups with a cardigan. For once, you weren't the plainest dressed one in the room, and you felt more smug than angry looking over them.

"Come here, child." The king prompted and you stepped to his side at his prompting, head still bowed to avoid looking at his face. You didn't notice the glare Yuta had sent Kun's way when he realized he had arrived there early. And that he had access to you without your prince being there as well.

"Tell them, Hiyomi." He motioned with his hand, and you turned to face them fully. They were clearly shocked by your cold gaze, and your eyes met Jinyu's. She looked significantly less nervous, and it was clear she was putting on an act.

"Expel them, please, your highness." The five other girls had various reactions, all forced down and if glares could kill, Jingxian would succeed in her mission.

"Of course. Now, you six. Apologize." The King's tone was hard, and the girls shakily stood and moved to face you. They clearly didn't want to do what followed, but they had little choice. They fell slowly to their knees, and bowed low, foreheads on their hands pressed to the floor. You barely registered the clearly scripted words they spoke, and you turned to look over your shoulder at the princes. Your gaze first went to Yuta, and it was clear he had no idea that you knew everything. He gave you his classic smile, but it just pissed you off then. You then looked at Kun and he gave a subtle nod.

"Jinyu can go." You then noted and the King was curious why you only let her go, but he allowed it. He knew there was something unspoken since Jinyu seemed to sag in relief as she left.

"We'll tell them the rest, father. Would you mind leaving us to it?" Kun stepped forward and his father turned to look back at him. They exchanged something unspoken through their gaze.

"Very well." He nodded and he left along with the guards, who stayed stationed outside the door as it closed.

"Hiyomi?" Yuta stepped up closer, but you ignored him, going to where the girls had sat back down. The other Sakuras looked a bit more nervous, but Jingxian was steaming. All of her hard work over the years, desperate to get whatever wealth and power she could, gone. The sneer she shot you pissed you off, hand flying up without thought, smacking her hard enough to snap her head to the side. She just sat there, not looking back at you. Not sure what to say to them, you turned and looked at Kun who was in the same spot, a little behind his slightly older brother. A smug look fell on his face, and he stepped around the other prince, shedding his letterman-style jacket and laying it on the table. You wanted to swoon as he rolled the sleeves of his white button-up, so they bunched above his elbows. Paired with his watch and the ring he had on his index finger, it was so little, but so hot. Yuta must have noticed how your expression changed, recognized it even, but you knew it was different than anything you gave him.

Kun sidled up next to you and he raised a brow, silently asking if you were ready. You nodded so slightly, with a tiny hum and you gasped as his hand grabbed your chin. The move was a bit rough, but your gasp was of delight, not fear or shock. His eyes were still warm, and he had the sexy grin back, your thighs twitched along with your core.

"You know, it’s a shame that only Yuta could get a girl so good." His grip softened, and he cupped your jaw instead. The room was so quiet you could hear Jingxian's jaw clench and made her teeth grind against each other. Kun's face was so close to yours that you felt his breath on your lips.

"Kun, what are you-" Yuta started, coming closer.

"But it's also a shame that she got stuck with him." His tone was incredibly patronizing, derisive and you just took the chance to bask in his presence and attention as he pulled his phone back out, stepping back slightly. He still had the audio clip paused where he left it off before, and you saw then it was half-way through.

"At least you only have to deal with one guy. He also knows. I have to get it up for four other sluts I couldn't care less for."

The four other Sakuras gasped, and your eyes flicked to look at Kun's phone, but his hand at your jaw turned you back to focus on him. It was hard to get mad with the following audio while looking over him, so close to you. You didn't even care to look and see what Yuta's expression was. He had frozen, just behind his half-brother, almost scared to move.

"Viagra?" "No, I just pretend they're Hiyomi. Hard to do though. Eiko's so fucking annoying and won't shut up. Sounds like a bad porno. Aikiro still doesn't know what the fuck she's doing even after training for a year and more. Yumi has no stamina and is selfish to boot. Keiho-"

Your eyes flicked to the phone again, waiting for him to finish. It seemed he paused to take a drink or something, because the audio kept progressing.

"Keiho is a fraud. She thinks I don't know that she goes to Ten's little orgies or whatever. I know she's slept with half of the guard too."

All the girls looked at Keiho then, her cheeks that were bright red with anger were now horribly pale.

"She acts like she wants stuff vanilla, loving. I know she can only get satisfied with two cocks in her."

Kun shut it off then, only a few seconds left but you had heard enough. How dare he criticize Keiho when he was the one that brought his friends in to fuck you at the same time? Did he think it would be flattering that he only thinks of you when he's with the others?

"Hiyomi-" Yuta tried to start, and you wanted to push around Kun, smack his stupid pretty face. But you trusted the other prince to come up with the best thing he could. He already tore down the girls, that much was obvious from their faces and the devastated looks they sent Yuta.

"Despite his supposed love for you, sweetheart, it’s a shame you don't feel the same." Since it wasn't directed at you, and it would still be incredibly hot if it was, the smug sadistic grin he had riled you up all the more. Kun hummed, prompting you to respond and he chuckled at the dazed look you had.

"No, I don't." It was like he was some kind of drug; your thoughts were foggy, and you needed more of him. He had taken out the girls, they looked like all the fight had been ripped from them, slumped on the couch. It had hit Yuta too, but not enough, not yet. Though, Kun needed to finish Jingxian first.

"Do you know how hard it was for me? From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. The only reason I was going to choose Jingxian was because I hate her. I couldn't live with myself if you weren't my wife, my princess, but I didn't want to hurt the other girls. They didn't deserve the hurt like her. She's a horrible human being and she seemed all the worse compared to you, (Y/N)." Hearing him say your real name again did it, you were head over heels in love with him and you thanked whatever higher being finally graced you with something good. All of the shit you had put up with came to the best moment of your life, knowing Kun wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Even if you both knew it was crazy, even sick; at least you could be lovesick together. The final hit to the girls, hidden from Yuta since Kun blocked you from his sight, was the extremely gentle kiss he pressed to your forehead, followed by him gently brushing his nose over yours.

"Guards, take them to the police." The prince let your chin go, just enough so he could step back so as not to shout in your ear. The door opened and the suits came in, quite literally hauling the girls away, Jingxian now just as broken as the others.

"Only one left." You whispered when Kun came back to you. He shifted where you stood with a hand on your lower back, making you visible to Yuta then.

"Show him you're mine." He told you and it seemed your minds were linked. At graduation, each girl would kneel before the prince and swear their loyalty, almost like being coronated. You sank to your knees, but you looked up at him instead. The normally practiced display of reverence for a girl's monarch was corrupted by the desire you looked at him with, and he you. You were submitting to him as a man, not as a higher-up, nor a prince. He grinned when your hands gripped his belt, not moving to remove it, but the implication was clear-

"You fucker." Yuta shot forward, hand burying in Kun's shirt and yanking him away from you. You flinched back as Kun was pulled away and you quickly stood as the brothers stared each other down.

"You lost, Yuta. Move on, she's mine now. Ready to abdicate?" You flinched back with a gasp, hands covering your mouth as Yuta's fist moved toward his brother's face. Kun deftly moved his head the little bit he had to for the blow to miss.

"Wait!" You tried to weasel your way between them before the elder landed a punch on the younger. Even though they were the same height, Kun was bigger, Yuta had a hard time gaining any kind of bulk and he looked like a twig next to the other prince. While he wasn't the most muscular man you knew, he was outright perfect to you, and it was clear he was strong because Yuta barely budged him with his tug on his shirt, he moved with the pull. That was beside the point… You got back at Yuta, what happened was enough, you could tell by the hurt etched into his face. Your anger had immediately dissipated, a better solution hitting your mind. Neither of them knew you had heard the full conversation the day before, but that didn't change that you had.

"Don't abdicate. You already are losing your harem, but you told Kun to only have me, right?" Both men were clearly shocked that at your words and you took the chance to shove Yuta off, standing in front of Kun, clearly in a show of protection. Like you could really do anything…

"Y-yes." Your prince's voice was soft and rough. He didn't deserve how much you really wanted to wreck him. Your rationality had kicked in, logic taking over, he was already defeated.

"We’ll tell the press that the other four turned against me because I didn't want to be involved with you. Turn it on me. You take the three from Kun, and I go to him. You're second born, you can't just give up those rights-"

"(Y/N), I don't want to be a prince without you as my princess." Your chin quivered a bit at his tone, his eyes glassy.

"And I don't want to be a princess without Kun as my prince." You countered. You needed to break his heart for him to let you go. You didn’t turn to look at the other man even though Yuta's eyes flashed to look over your shoulder.

"Take the other three, add two more from wherever, do whatever. Wouldn't you rather move on and find someone else than love me and know I don't feel the same? If you love something let it go? Do you think I want to be restricted to you, when I love someone else?"

"You love him?" You didn't respond to his question. It wasn't the real definition of love, it wasn't that pure, but you had some twisted loyalty to Kun that you never did for Yuta.

"Do you love me?" You pushed back. You weren't sure, it seemed somewhat like you were a trophy, a luxury item that he might adore, but…

"You're supposed to be mine." He didn't answer the question. Not directly.

"You don't love me, I’m just your favorite. You liked that I didn't fight the other girls tooth and nail just to get your attention. You liked the challenge. If you really cared you would have told me all the shit that Jingxian did, and the others, I'm sure. You never even bothered to learn who I was, getting me pretty, girly things. You played up the romance but never did anything I liked with me. I might have been in your bed the most, but I wasn't in your heart."

"And you were in Kun's?" Yuta nearly spat, not trying to defend himself, because you were right.

"What's her favorite thing?" The man behind you cut in and you turned to look at him. You didn't answer, genuinely curious if Yuta knew, because he never acted on it…

"Books."

"Wrong. Space. She goes out at night to watch the stars. All her books are science-fiction. Her favorite sweatshirt is of the milky way and if there's ever a special event at the planetarium, she's there." How did he know all of that? The other prince was silent, clearly not sure what to do or say next. His eyes went back to you, and you couldn't meet his look, and stepped closer to Kun.

"Favorite animal?" Kun continued.

"Dogs-"

"Goats. She just can't have one as a pet, she asked. The keychain on her bag is a goat. So is the plushie she takes with her on out-of-country flights. She tells people she likes dogs because it's more accepted.”

"Her favorite color is dark purple because it looks like the night sky. She loves snow but hates rain. She's the only girl fluent in all four languages. She hates moths and loves fireflies." He kept going and you wondered how he knew all that. Though…it was all things that were more or less common knowledge, things your friends knew. It wasn't creepy, just observant, and it should be things Yuta knew. But, based on his face, he really didn't.

"He loves planes. He took lessons to learn to fly one. He loves cats but doesn't have one because Lumei is allergic. He wears a lot of black and white, but he always uses a blue pen because he likes blue too. He hates cold weather; he knows how to cook, and he even is scared of butterflies." You smiled softly, realizing all the things he knew about you, you pretty much knew about him as well. It was things you overheard while near him or figured out by watching him from afar. After an uncomfortable silence, you finally looked up to meet Yuta's gaze.

"I'll go talk to father. I'll… if you ever break her heart, I'll fucking kill you." The prince exhaled, seeming to get some kind of closure and he stepped closer, reaching for you. Midway though, his hand stopped, and his eyes flicked to the side, at your earrings.

"They're moons." He noticed.

"Yes." Your voice was quiet, and the prince dropped his hand, cast one more look to his brother, and left. Watching him go was…a relief. You thought you might feel something else, be a little sad, or hurt, but you just felt at ease. As you turned to face Kun once more, he was already there, his hands at your jaw and he pulled you to him, kissing you so hard your teeth clashed against his. The force of him pulling you into him knocked your hat off, falling to the floor. You whimpered, hands holding his wrists as you try to meet his fervor. Your butt hit the table when he turned you with his leg wedging between yours. One hand left your jaw to cup the back of your head, blunt nails scratching your scalp. The other hand found its way to your waist, then his arm snaked around your middle, helping you up to sit on the table. Kun finally pulled away, both of you panting and your dazed eyes met his sharp ones.

"Fuck." He sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His hands rested on the table, holding him up so he didn't rest his full weight on you, and he stood there for a while. You pressed your cheek to his soft hair, basking in him finally being so close to you. Slowly, you brought your arms up, shaking, and wrapped them around his shoulders. The hug was quickly returned, Kun enveloping you back, and you pressed your face into his chest. With your ear over his heart, you closed your eyes, listening to it beat, soaking in the scent of his cologne. Neither of you really wanted to pull back, but never-the-less did so. He took your hands in his, bringing them up so he could kiss them.

"I need to talk to father as well, sweetheart," his hand cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing your soft skin, "wait for me."

Due to formalities and legalities, you weren't Kun's right away. Because of all the rules, you both were moved into a guest house more or less, still on the royal campus, but not one of the official palaces. You had to wait for nearly a week as the ministers convened, trying to figure out what the hell to do. Taeyong remained the heir and was the only one that kept the harem as promised. Yuta didn't abdicate, but he didn't rebuild his harem either. He ended up moving to Japan then, becoming the ambassador for that part of the empire. Kun adopted most of his roles and rights, and it was well received by the public that he wanted to marry for love instead. He wasn't the heir, so the ministers didn't mind too much. Ten had some of his privileges revoked when it was revealed how debaucherously he was living, but he didn't mind. Doyoung too gave up his harem, minus Gyuri. A lot of things changed fast, but it was welcome. Finally, once everything was official, you stood in the middle of the foyer of your new home, watching people mill about as they moved the final things in. Looking around, you startled when someone snuck up behind you, hugging you.

"It's done, sweetheart." Kun nuzzled behind your ear, and you bit your lip, giggling.

"Once everyone leaves, I'm going to take you, since your mine now."

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

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mariacallous · 24 days ago

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Professor Francis Fukuyama is a prominent American scholar, political scientist who has written widely on development and international politics. He is probably most known for his work "The End of History and The Last Man," published in 1992. He joined our reporter, Philip Malzahn, in the studio to discuss democracy, the geopolitical landscape, and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine.

How do you think the Russian invasion of Ukraine has affected the global narrative around liberal democracy versus authoritarianism? And does it reinforce your earlier ideas about the resilience of liberal democracy?

I think that what has happened in the more than 30 years since I wrote "The End of History" and the end of the Cold War is that many people who lived in liberal democracies became rather complacent. They assumed that democracy would be the single framework for their societies and it wasn't really threatened by anybody. Especially with the beginning of the full-scale invasion, suddenly, people realized that democracy didn't necessarily always exist and that you had to fight for it.

Ukraine's fight for its own sovereignty and independence has been very inspiring to many people, but it also puts stress on democracy because the war consumes a lot of resources as well as lives. It's changed the global balance of power.

Europe had to wean itself off of Russian energy and that caused other geopolitical changes. The whole world politically realigned as a result of that. I think that has made us aware of, in a way, the fragility of the current situation that we're facing in terms of the stability of democracy.

So you basically say that the conflict that was thought to be a little bit lost has revived or has come back?

I think that in 1989 and then 1991, when the Soviet Union fell apart, for many people it was a relief because all these countries were released from the Soviet prison, in a certain sense. But we didn't anticipate some of the challenges that would appear, so many of the countries that had been communist and had rejected communism now started to show a certain nostalgia for the world that existed back then.

Then, it turns out that Russia was never really reconciled to the loss of its empire. I think that's what Vladimir Putin represents, is this intense longing for a past where they believe that they were powerful and glorious and they lost that somehow. And that has obviously been driving a lot of the instability in Europe.

Russia is the last colonial empire. Britain, France, all of these other countries used to have empires and they gave them up, because we live in an age of democracy where people are supposed to be self-determining. Russia is the only country that seems to think it deserves to maintain an empire.

The war in Ukraine has seemingly unified Europe in ways not seen in recent decades. Do you think this unity will persist in the long term? How much does it influence the future of the European Union and European democracy as a whole?

The unity was really remarkable in the first year of the war. I think that since then, as the war has dragged on, you're seeing cracks because in individual countries, there has been a little bit of weariness about supporting Ukraine. You're seeing the rise of populist parties like the AfD in Germany, where they're actually more on the Russian side than on the Ukrainian side. Overall, the situation is still reasonably good but there's growing opposition to support for Ukraine. That's going to be a real problem going forward.

How are traditional political blocs in their allegiance to Russia changing? For example, the AfD populist right-wing party which has pro-Russian sentiments.

Support for the Soviet Union was obviously a left-wing cause, but Putin has transformed Russia into a kind of fascist, right-wing nationalist state. Nationalists don't obviously work together at all times, but in recent years, they've been supporting each other in terms of opposition to Western liberal democracy. Liberal democracy means openness to the outside world, trade, and joining the European Union—this larger entity. A lot of individual nations resent that and want to assert their own national traditions.

Ukraine has expressed a strong desire to align with Western liberal democracies. How do you evaluate Ukraine's prospects for democratic consolidation in the context of the ongoing war?

There are two institutions that matter in this respect. One is the European Union, and the other is NATO. In terms of the European Union, I think that that's going to happen. There are accession criteria that Ukraine has to meet, but I think that's actually healthy for Ukraine.

It means that in terms of corruption, transparency, and a lot of governance characteristics—these are things that Ukraine has been struggling to do and should be doing in any event. I think those criterias will be met.

The NATO part is more difficult because NATO says that it won't accept countries that are actually in a war, which Ukraine is. On the other hand, you can't really end the war until there's a sufficient security guarantee for the future, so that the Russians can't simply start the war up again when they feel stronger. I think that’s one of the chief problems politically that we have to confront. I do think it's ultimately solvable but it is a conundrum right now.

How has the war in Ukraine altered the global geopolitical landscape, particularly in relation to the balance of power between liberal democracies and so-called authoritarian regimes like Russia?

There's a growing axis of authoritarian powers. It's not like the Cold War in that they don't all share the same ideology. For example, Iran is this extremist religious state, mixed in with China, which still claims to be a Marxist country. They all support each other.

What unites them is opposition to liberal democracy itself. They don't want to be any part of this Western mixture of free societies, open economies and the like. There's definitely an increasing degree of cooperation among these outsider countries or countries that have been outsiders.

As you said, countries are not necessarily all the same. Neither are the Western and liberal democracies, like Hungary and Germany. Sweden and Norway have huge differences in terms of political systems and society. But still, they treat us a little bit as a bloc, will we see a revival of blocs?

I do think that there is a natural affinity among countries that share basic democratic values, that they believe in a rule of law. They believe in checks and balances and constitutional government. Hungary, I think, actually doesn't belong in the European Union. They've adopted an authoritarian system. They're taking subsidies from the European Union, but they spit back this ridiculous nationalist ideology in the face of the EU.

The rest of the bloc is pretty unified in terms of its common values and a degree of mutual support, that's important. And actually, I think it's the authoritarians that are more diverse because you do have some coming from the old left, some coming from the right. What they have in common is really not any coherent set of values, It's more just dislike of liberal democracy.

In your book “Identity, The Demand for Dignity and the Politics of Resentment,” you discuss the importance of national identity. What implications does this have for Ukraine’s future?

National identity is important because if different people living in a society don't believe that there's an overall entity that they're loyal to, then they're going to behave in ways that are very destructive of the solidarity of that country. If they want to stick to one ethnicity or one region, that is going to weaken the country as a whole. There's also a challenge for a liberal democracy to have a national identity because, unlike, let's say, a fascist country, you can't emphasize race or ethnicity as the core of who you are.

That means that the task of a democracy is to build national identity around more abstract political ideas, and I think that's something that is true in Ukraine. Why do people not want to live in Russia? They don't want to live under an authoritarian regime that tells them what to do, what to think, controls their education, and prohibits them from moving around and doing things that they want. That is an important freedom that Ukrainians have. I think that can be the basis for a distinct Ukrainian identity.

Then there are also cultural things, I think Ukrainians are discovering now that their history is unique in many ways. It is not necessarily just part of this larger Russian historical narrative, the way the Russians believe it is. I think it's important to be able to hold onto those aspects of national identity.

What do you predict for Russia's political future in the aftermath of the war in Ukraine, maybe even during the war in Ukraine? Could internal pressures lead to significant changes?

Theoretically it could. The Russian Federation is very heterogeneous and the war has put certain strains on that. For example, the Russians don't want to recruit their own ethnic Russians as soldiers, because I think Putin fears that that's going to create a pushback from his own population. They're using a lot of ethnic minorities, Buryats, Chechens and so forth.

That works in the short run, it also is going to lay the groundwork for some ethnic tensions. Overall, I'm not expecting the Russian Federation to fall apart anytime soon because it does have a lot of resources to hold itself together.

Assuming a postwar scenario, what role do you envision for Ukraine in the broader international community? How would Ukraine's experience and resilience influence other countries facing similar threats to their sovereignty and democracy?

I think Ukraine has been a tremendous inspiration to democratic people all over the world. We usually don't face the serious threats that Ukraine has faced. I think the way Ukraine has met this challenge is a great inspiration – not just the soldiers fighting on the front line, dying and wanting to persevere, but also the degree of innovation and entrepreneurship. For example, creating a whole drone core industry. That's something that's quite remarkable that nobody else has done. I think those things are going to be copied by other countries.

Speaking about postwar scenarios and a little bit about the future, I would love to ask about the U.S. elections.

I think the American election is going to have a big impact on Ukraine. It's actually very easy to manipulate Trump. You just have to praise him and build up his ego. Putin has been very successful at doing that.

Vice President Vance just put out his own peace plan that's identical to Putin's, basically to have a ceasefire. Then Russia gets to keep whatever territory it's succeeded in occupying since 1991. I think that that's going to be terrible for Ukraine because it's going to mean a loss of territory, sovereignty and so forth. The Harris administration will not do that.

There's obviously been unhappiness with the Biden administration not giving permission to use the weapons that have been provided. As their range would really be necessary to defeat Russia. That's a fight, that's ongoing. I think, eventually they're going to give in on this, but that's a lot better than being cut off. It was the Republicans in Congress that cut off all weapons supplies last fall. I think that is what you can expect if the Republicans win the election.

How do you assess the response of Western democracies to the war in Ukraine? Has the West's strategy been effective in defending liberal democratic values, or has it revealed weaknesses?

I think the biggest critique I have of the Western response has really been the American one, because the United States is the main supplier of military equipment. I think that the United States has had an excessive fear of escalation on the part of Russia and as a result, has not provided sufficient weapons and given permission to use them in a fully effective way over the last two and a half years of the war.

I think that continues with these restrictions by which long range missiles can be used by Ukraine. At the present moment, I don't really see any way of deterring these Russian missile attacks unless they are also subject to a similar kind of strike threat. That's a direct result of calculations made in Washington that I think are excessively cautious.

UNITED24 Ambassador Francis Fukuyama is raising funds to help clear Ukrainian land from Russian explosive ordnance, as part of the platform’s Humanitarian Demining program.

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quibliography · 4 months ago

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Born a Crime by Trevor Noah 🎣

Synopsis: This novel is a memoir about the life of Trevor Noah growing up in a post-apartheid South Africa. He was born to a white Swiss father and a black Xhosa mother during a time when it was forbidden for these two people to so much as interact with each other. But even with the end of apartheid, Trevor Noah still had to learn how to live in a fractured world, navigating the differences between being white, being black, being colored, being many of these things, and being none of them.

My Quibs: I already adore Trevor Noah, as a comedian and a storyteller. Seriously, even a short clip of an episode of his run as host of the Daily Show or his podcast What Now, it's so clear how well spoken he is. So obviously, a whole book of it? Sign me up! But I would also recommend listening to it (even maybe reading along as you listen) because 1) the presentation of his words makes the story so much more impactful but 2) I couldn't even imagine how to pronounce the various African languages and names he uses. I think I've learned how to pronounce Xhosa by now though🤞. So just to preface, I came into this memoir with a hint of what to expect and an undying love for the author.

I really believe everyone should read this book. There are so many points that initially is about apartheid and South African history/culture, but actually has a larger message about race relations and how we connect to each other as humans. He tells a story about how his school playground was divided in groups by white/black/colored/other. And how even among the black kids, because Africa of course has its own diversity, there was division by spoken language. And it's not an uncommon experience, considering how America can do that as well. I mean, just as a stupid example, the Mean Girls cafeteria scene when the "cliques" are explained to her. In reality we also divide social lines by what we see and what we hear. It's a universal experience. But his message was how to cross those lines. Trevor Noah is good with languages and uses communication as a means to connect across these divides. He quotes Nelson Mandela saying "If you talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart."

But because Trevor Noah is also a comedian, he balances out the seriousness with outrageous stories of the hijinks he got up to. From having to covertly poop in front of his blind grandmother to his "Long, Awkward, Occasionally Tragic, and Frequently Humiliating Education in Affairs of the Heart" (in three parts). Everything he writes is so endearing and feels so relatable despite it being an entirely different life experience than I know. And I've heard many people say now that it's a gateway to wanting to learn more about that part of the world. Americans, at least, have so little education about international history and Trevor Noah provides a great sample of a world that we should be more aware of.

Should you read it? Yes. No conditionals. Just yes. Can't read? Listen to it. Actually, if you can read, listen to it too.

Similar reads? I don't read many memoirs so it's hard to compare. Any one that I have read is distinct in their voice and personality. But if you already like watching him on the Daily Show or on his podcast What Now, I guarantee you'll like this book.

(Spoiler Alert!) He's alluded to his mother being shot in the head when he talks to the audience or his guest on the Daily Show, off air. So I was aware this was not only an event in his life, but obviously a very significant one. So the entire time I was waiting for the full story. To those who didn't know what was coming, apparently it was such an intense ending. (Someone literally had to pause it while they were driving because they wanted to devote their whole attention to this last chapter.) For me whom it was a long time coming, it was still pretty gripping. And dammit, it made me want to keep reading. I need a sequel, Trevor!! Please! Or can his mother write a book about what it was like raising Trevor? I'll take that too, thank you!

What did you think of Born A Crime?

#born a crime #stories from a south african childhood #trevor noah

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the-ratronaut · 1 year ago

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So I've been replaying the Alan Wake series and its connected games in preparation for playing Alan Wake 2 and I just felt like putting down my thoughts on Alan Wake and American Nightmare down. Nothing too intensive, just some random thoughts and critic I've had about them. Spoilers for those two 10+ year old games below. It's also long so, like, be aware of that lol.

Alan Wake:

God this game shows its age lol. It's such an XBox 360 game. Like you know the devs were super, super proud of their physics system when they made the game 'cause physics objects are everywhere and they really want you to play with them.

This is one of the most "wears its influences on its sleeves" horror games and unlike most of those it's mostly not based on Lovecraft (though it is partially). It's goddamn Steven King.

The combat is really barebones, but at the same time really tight. It works suprising well and hasn't aged too badly. Like shit maybe it's the sound taken make when you kill them but it's super satisfying to shot shit in this game. The poltergeist encounters can be a little annoying at times though and the fast Taken are always a slog unless they get stuck on a corner or something.

I always really liked the narrative devices of the manuscript pages. Giving the player a chance to see what's going on off screen or getting glimpses into the inner worlds of your nonpoint-of-view characters if they're diligent about exploring your world is such a fun idea. It's something you don't get to see in video games often but do see a lot in literature, so it fits very well here. Not to mention letting the player see glimpses of the near future is fun as well.

The DLC chapters are really funny conceptually because you know they spawned out of someone saying "Hey, you know that gimmick mechanic we had in literally the last five minutes of the game and nowhere else that we did nothing with? We should actually use that for something."

Also I do like how literally everything after the main story of Alan Wake is trying to resolve the resolution to Alan Wake. Like Alan did exactly what he needed to do to fix everything, but fuck it this man is really struggling to actually save himself from his own self sacrifice.

Alan Wake American Nightmare:

Once again, this game shows it's age. It's a very XBox 360 game, though the devs clearly put some thought into how to improve the original game's formula. Their conclusion was to make the combat quicker and more varied and I can't say they were wrong. I will say that the over abundance of ammo and ease of killing foes does make this a bit less scary though. This is much more of an action game than the original and the presence of an "arcade mode" makes me think that was the intention.

This is one of the better handled time loop stories I think I've seen. Though the duration of the loop is short, everyone involved quickly gets a grasp of what's happening and, suprising, they all are able to grow very competent. By the last loop, missions that took an entire act to finish are literally set up for you to complete when you enter the area. People learn from their mistakes and make sure not to make those mistakes again. It's such a pleasure to see people placed in this odd situation act like rational people.

The situation with Serena is super fucking unfortunate. Like, fuck. If you play this game, make sure to go turn on the light for her in the second and third loops. It's fully an unmarked optional event, but, like, fuck no one deserves that.

The ending is, annoyingly, a little misleading. Leading some people to see this game as non-canon. Like, I definitely get that but the post credits scene makes the situation a bit more clear... shame it's easy to accidentally skip tho. Cutscenes in general are too easy to accidentally skip in this game.

#alan wake spoilers #Alan wake #But not two I still haven't played two #I'm currently going through Control #I played that one before but never beat it #I think I got distracted by Persona 5 Royal when I played it before #I'm avoiding Quantum Break though #I don't feel like touching that atm #Maybe in the future but it seems like a bit of a hassle to watch a show and play a game concurrently

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wernher-von-brawny · 2 years ago

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Bocci the Rock Reaction Videos

One of my favorite uses of YouTube is watching a big batch of different essayists spit about a single topic or piece of media.

Today's hyperfixation has been wallowing in vids about Best Anime of 2022 contender, Bocci the Rock.

I would have said Best Show of 2022 contender, but I'm aware that, aside from CGI fantasy, American tastes trend towards that gay murder club show, that troubled children having sex show, that MAGA-friendly western show, and that MAGA-friendly rich family fighting over money show (or is it shows?), so... safest call is to segregate it off into its own garden.

For the uninitiated, Bocci the Rock is a brilliantly and lovingly animated 2022 "slice of life" -- meaning a character-driven show rather than action-, plot-, or quest-driven -- comedy anime about a talented but catastrophically awkward and introverted young guitarist who joins an all-girl band. Hilarity, personal growth and rocking out ensue.

It's not at all like the old Monkees TV show, but it does share some of that same energetic and experimental love of humor, music, friendship and fun.

While searching YT for my usual topics of interest will return maybe a few vids, it seems that a lot of 'tubers (are they called that?) share my love for Bocci.

It's no wonder an anime about an online content creator with intense social anxiety has resonated with many in the the non-millionaire segment of that community.

And he fact that most of these reviews contain as much confessional therapy as critical analysis made me think of our beloved hellsite. It seems to me that one or two of my fellow Tumblr deplorables might also vibe with this show.

It inhabits the intersection of social anxiety and making art, made with incredibly craft and skill and -- reportedly -- a very high level of staff freedom, input, and personal expression.

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Based on the content I see posted by the folks I follow on this site, and the six folks who follow me, I think it may resonate with many of them as well.

And since everyone is on vacation or phoning it in this week, and I'm bored, here's a roundup of all the commentary vids I watched today.

It was on Nuttflix, and then it suddenly wasn't. Whatevs, it's on Crunchyroll, and many of the best pirate sites.

Best to watch it before the commentaries, and then use these to satisfy your craving for more, but since it doesn't have a plot that can be spoiled, nothing anyone says in any of these vids steals anything from the enjoyment of watching the series.

Unlike, say, the last Star Wars or LOTR show, both of which are conveniently mooted by reading the recaps.

The Absurd Adaptation of Bocchi The Rock

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What happens when you have a series whose identity is intrinsically tied to its production; the times when aesthetic and visuals and animation are so crucial and so integral to the series, that it becomes the primary thing that is elevating the content? Well that's when you get Bocci The Rock.

To call Bocci The Rock creative would be one of the largest understatements that I have ever uttered on this channel. This is a series that seemingly revels in any opportunity it gets to convey its comedy and convey its drama in the most unique, eye-opening ways that I guarantee you have never seen before in the medium of animation. And I can say that for a fact because there are gags in this series that don't even use animation.

Comedy is the lifeblood of this series and any chance Bocci has to surprise you or make you laugh through its excessively fun and creative uses of framing, timing, or just sheer animation power you better goddamn believe it's going to do it, to elevate the extensive commitment it has to its gags and to its character writing.

Why We Love Bocchi

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Bocchi the Rock is a completely socially inept, lonely, loser; an asocial schizoid, cast out from society for being a fucking freak.

The only reason she started getting into guitar, was so that she could become rich and famous, and get over her fear of people.

And she seeks any and all validation from others.

She's... a.. honestly a bad person. Kind of. She's, she doesn't have that much conviction. She kind of just goes with whatever other people say. Um- she- she just- her only motivation is attention from other people.

So that begs the question: Why is she so fucking cool?

The Unique Genius of Bocchi the Rock!

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Endlessly charming. Unquestionable an absolute gem. Always weird in the best possible way.

Bocchi Rocks Harder

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Bocci the Rock was somehow able to get the attention of the anime community in a season with stacked entries, some of which have been building up towards this moment for years.

Looks like I can only link five videos in this post. If I’d known, I might have re-ordered this. In any case, the rest of these are links.

The Masterpiece That is Bocchi The Rock! - Honest Review

I think the best way for me to describe it is how the anime put it: "It might not connect with too many people, but those it does it'll hit deeply."

Explaining the Meaning Behind Guitar, Loneliness and Blue Planet (Bocchi the Rock Insert Song)

How Bocchi the Rock Captures Social Anxiety Perfectly

At first glance the show may seem like just another run-of-the-mill, "tee hee cute girls doing cute things" show, but there's so much love, passion and thought put into this anime that really gives it the extra push.

Bocchi the Rock is Anime of the Season

Bocci excels not only because it has absolutely stellar writing that dives down deep into an introvert's psyche, but because it also has a director that's willing to just let his staff go buck wild and do whatever the shit they want.

Bocchi The Rock is a Mirror into my SOUL 🎸

Making art -- whether it's drawing, music, video making -- is not the easiest thing to do and I feel like it's been a while since we've had an anime that attempted to showcase that without sugar coating it.

What I wasn't expecting was a critical hit to my current existence as a content creator and socially inept weirdo who doesn't like to talk to people and who isn't really comfortable without multiple layers of anonymity between myself and others.

If you want a currently airing anime about just how you can feel as an introvert watching a piece of media, Bocci the Rock has got you covered.

Bocchi The Rock is The Pinnacle of Slice of Life

...eight weeks of what has generally been some of the best anime I've seen for the better part of half a decade...

The Masterpiece You Just Missed | BOCCHI THE ROCK!

For the first time since 2020 I can finally say that I found another masterpiece within the Cute Girls Doing Cute Things genre.

A Better K-On (Bocchi the Rock!)

Narrative Therapist Reacts to Bocchi The Rock! - Episode 1

I have not yawned a single time during Bocci, an I won't! Yawn. Ever. Again! ...on stream.

The SURPRISE Anime of Fall 2022: Bocchi the Rock!

I Almost Skipped This Amazing Anime

Hidden Gem of the Season Bocci the Rock is a show about a girl who wants to be a rock star but instead gets hit by a truck and reincarnates as an actual rock.

Yeah, yeah, I was lying. I just kind of think that the English title reads funny, but you know in Japan it wouldn't surprise me if that ever became a show in the future.

And if you still want more, here's an extensive print interview with the production team:

Bocchi the Rock! Main Staff Interviews – Series Director Keiichiro Saito, Character Designer Kerorira, Animation Producer Shouta Umehara

#bocci the rock #best of 2022

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thelightningthatjumpsbetween · 1 year ago

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Thirty Five

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

This didn’t feel like "his" world, he noted. He peered at his left hand. The usual pin thin white scars that separated his regrown digits from his reconstructed body were gone; his hand was whole. Ethan narrowed his eyes.

When he walked through the wall, he had not emerged back in the 'human' world. That meant this was…?

“Fuck,” Ethan exhaled, realizing he knew, suddenly, why he could hear Alcina upstairs.

She was actually upstairs.

He only had moments of confirming the Duke’s seal before a pain shot through Ethan’s forehead, and he dropped to one knee.

The crushing pressure, the sinking feeling that plagued Ethan as he’d walked through the castle, returned. Now it wasn’t just an emotional sensation, it was affecting him physically. His ears rang, and the stabbing pain seemed to flow all through his body. He got the distinct feeling that something was moving. Changing. Despite the throbbing in his head he looked up, searching with now-fully-blackened eyes as if the answer lay in the chamber around him.

He intuited, somehow, that he was not where he had originally thought.

When he walked through the wall, he had not emerged back in the 'human' world. That meant this was…?

“Fuck,” Ethan exhaled, realizing he knew, suddenly, why he could hear Alcina upstairs.

She was actually upstairs.

He’d walked through a wall, right into a different realm. He rolled his eyes at his own arrogance. Somewhere, Karl’s long-ago words drifted into his mind. Now don’t get cocky. He could brighten the engineer’s day later, telling him how right he’d been. But right now, he had a bigger problem than hearing an I told you so.

Around him, like invisible lightning, small strokes of electrical impulses flowed. He didn’t have to wonder what caused it. The mold, its stored information. Its catalogued memories. Ethan sank to the floor on both knees, shrugging out of the small backpack and hastily stuffing the papers into it. It...they...wanted to show him something; the TV station turned on without any input from him. Why did the mold choose now? He wanted to leave. Ethan held his breath as the golden glow of the oil lamp dimmed in front of him, the charges, or pulses, the neurons firing–whatever the hell it was, picking up in intensity.

He saw scenes in rapid succession, not unlike the scenes Eva had shown him when they ventured through the layers of Miranda’s memories. These bright, vivid scenes were not entirely realistic-looking. They seemed more like technicolor film, with blurry edges and layers of light shimmering between objects. It was the vision of the fungus, if there was such a thing.

The first scene was a tall woman walking uncertainly past the castle’s carriage gate entrance. Her hat immediately gave her away. She was tall, but...well, within normal height, Ethan marveled. The hat was black; she also had long black gloves. She wore a deep plum dress with a fur stole, and impractical plum heels.

A man dressed in far less noteworthy clothing followed her through the entrance, after pulling several large pieces of luggage out of the front of an old Volkswagen Beetle.

New money.

An American!

Can’t even speak the language.

Royal blood? They say she has royal blood.

Thoughts, voices, swirled around Ethan’s ears. Thoughts that she was remembering as she walked? Her face was hidden behind the hat, but he knew she was both inspired and troubled.

Why me? What does she see in me? I mustn’t disappoint her. She has given me this....

A family birthright, she said. But why was I only just recently made aware? So much I don't understand.

Royal blood! If only they knew what a curse this blood has been.

Maybe I will find peace. No more abuse. No more–

Ethan felt a visceral pain, the icy blanket of emotion that accompanied sexual abuse survival settling over his shoulders. He’d never been…he was feeling her emotions, he realized while blanching. The intrusive memory of someone else's assault. The blond's lip trembled in sudden, almost forced empathy. Fuck. Ethan's knees folded to the side and he braced his back against the sarcophagus.

More whispers. The Duke sends his regards and states he would be pleased to continue business at Castle Dimitrescu. You'll find there aren't many...outside merchants willing to come this way.

Alcina’s voice. Who?

The scene rapidly changed, and Ethan watched snippets of what appeared to be Alcina’s life. Speaking with Miranda. Awakening after surgery. Weeping in the mirror as she surveyed a hidden scar. Miranda’s voice filtered through the images of the distraught woman in her dressing room.

“I had hoped the cadou would address the disease, however, there seems to be little change. There are no further treatments.”

“There’s…nothing? May I…continue work on…anything that might help–”

“There are no further treatments. We must get back to other work.”

Curtains were drawn on long castle windows, servants were dismissed. Dimitrescu stared at one of the paintings in the gallery, where a sunset painted the Carpathians with beautiful purples and oranges.

“You must avoid sunlight at all costs. There is no other way to avoid the lesions.”

“But I…I won’t age?”

“We shall see, won’t we?” The coldness in Miranda’s tone was infuriating.

The years sped by in front of Ethan with many unintelligible whispers narrating the scenes, both in Romanian and English. They were afraid of the castle’s mistress. They were afraid of everything in the village. Life after the second world war was not peaceful, it was not idyllic. It was terrifying. All of these whispers made their way through his ears as if filtered by Alcina.

“How am I to properly be a Lord if I cannot be seen? How can I be a presence for the people…what is there for me in the village?”

“I did not give you a village, my child, I gave you a castle.”

She’s a monster.

S h e ’ s a m o n s t e r .

The next scenes Ethan remembered well from the notes and sketches that he'd seen before in the castle. He was scooting across the floor, trying to still the reverberating, painful echo in his head. He was going to get the hell out of here, he decided, grinding his teeth against the pain. He gripped the sides of his hair, tugging at the migraine while the creation of the monstrous daughters was shown to him, behind his blackened eyes. Their desiccated corpses on dungeon beds, Miranda’s cold indifference at seeing the reanimated bodies, breathing as they slept. Alcina stroking red hair that spilled over the muck-covered pillow.

She applied lipstick at her vanity, her hand quivering. There were tears in her eyes; it was a starkly different Alcina than he’d watched through the window. She looked shaken, haunted. The scene melted; Ethan watched as she stood in a nightgown near a balcony window. The moonlight splashed into the room around her like waterfalls, and she held out a long arm into the milky rays. Her voice sounded in his ears, hushed, while Ethan watched the daughters interact with servants. They were just as obnoxious as they’d been with him; laughing, poking, teasing. It was as though they were incapable of human compassion.

“Mother Miranda….I feel I cannot even speak of this….I believe I may have found something that slows the pain, the degradation of my body from this disease. It seems grotesque. The Duke brought fresh, strange dishes on his delivery last week. One was a foreign meal of raw blood pudding. I couldn’t believe how much better I felt! After reading of the research of the blood disease–”

“Yes, I know…yes, Mother Miranda. I should continue researching the cadou, the Mold. I......understand.”

Ethan’s head hurt too furiously to sense the approaching footsteps. He could not even see, through the flashes of memories, that another figure had entered the basement. It stood at the bottom of the stairway, gazing around in confusion at the strange holding area.

Then it crossed the floor, creating a disturbance in the flow of synapses, of whatever memories were made of here. Ethan’s piercing headache began to subside, but he still clutched his head. Black fluid dripped from his nose and lips-which were blackened again-and he raked his hands through his hair as if trying to will his brain out of his head. Despite having wide open, black eyes, Ethan could not see the figure in front of him. He was still dealing with the fading memories, as palpable as they still were.

Alcina Dimitrescu, no longer nine feet tall, but still an intimidating 5’11’, stared down at Ethan curiously. Her dark curls were looser, longer, and she wore a simple, if still old-fashioned, dress. The hat and gloves were gone. She was even barefoot.

“Ethan Winters,” she said haughtily, “Come to plague me even in death.”

#alcina dimitrescu #the woman has arrived #ethan winters #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil village

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realityhop · 11 months ago

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"The dysregulation caused by loneliness consigns us to the extremes of either suffering passively (responding too little) or being “difficult” (responding too intensely)."

— Cacioppo & Patrick, Loneliness (2008)

"When cognitive control is lost, the ability to inhibit the drive to seek pleasure is lost."

— Robert Lustig, The Hacking of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and Brains (2017)

"Personal responsibility, if it wasn't so horribly co-opted by the right, is I think actually very important in my day-to-day life. However, personal responsibility is only as good as the environment in which it exists. And our environment is shit."

— Leslie Fluette, Capitalist Realism, Mental Illness and Societies of Control (2019)

"Unfortunately, not all young children who are maltreated in harsh and unpredictable environments have additional resources to help them cope with the stress—a reality that has deep implications for the long-term consequences of early adversity. In general, when people experience persistent fear and anxiety, the amygdala and hippocampus work together to associate that fear with the context that elicited the fear response. In children or adults, the resulting “fear conditioning” can have lasting effects. As a result of physical abuse, a child tends to become fearful of both the person and the context in which the abuse occurred. Over time, the cues to context can become generalized, and the fear response can be activated by people and places bearing only a small resemblance to the original context of the maltreatment. The processes occur automatically, below the level of conscious awareness; the reflective mind does not participate in or even realize what is happening. As a result, early childhood perceptions that the world is a dangerous place can affect social interactions that occur later in life under far less threatening conditions."

— Scott Barry Kaufman, Transcend: The New Science of Self-Actualization (2020)

"..understanding how patterns of stress can influence regulation, or balance, is the key to understanding how what happened to you is connected to your health—in all domains, mental, physical, and social. It has been estimated that childhood adversity plays a major role in 45 percent of all childhood mental health disorders and 30 percent of mental health disorders among adults. These estimates are consistent with other studies that show increased risk for major depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, and other psychotic disorders following childhood trauma or adverse childhood experiences."

— Bruce D. Perry, What Happened To You?: Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing (2021)

"Your brain predicts and prepares your actions using your past experiences. If you could magically reach back in time and change your past, your brain would predict differently today, and you might act differently and experience the world differently as a result. It’s impossible to change your past, but right now, with some effort, you can change how your brain will predict in the future. […] More control also means more responsibility. If your brain doesn’t merely react to the world but actively predicts the world and even sculpts its own wiring, then who bears responsibility when you behave badly? You do. Now, when I say responsibility, I’m not saying people are to blame for the tragedies in their lives or the hardships they experience as a result. We can’t choose everything that we’re exposed to. I’m also not saying that people with depression, anxiety, or other serious illnesses are to blame for their suffering. I’m saying something else: Sometimes we’re responsible for things not because they’re our fault, but because we’re the only ones who can change them. […] There is a real biological benefit when people treat one another with basic human dignity. And if we don’t, there is also a real biological consequence, and it eventually trickles down to a financial and social cost for everyone. The price of personal freedom is personal responsibility for your impact on others. The wiring of all of our brains guarantees it."

— Lisa Feldman Barrett, Seven and a Half Lessons About the Brain (2020)

#psychotic #depression #anxiety #pleasure #action #environment #future #loneliness #fear #freedom #schizophrenia #human animal #mental illness #brains #responsibility

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carlosmejianewyork · 10 months ago

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An Overview of YPI - The Youth and Police Initiative

The North American Family Institute (NAFI) has served the Boston community for decades. With over 45 years of serving families and communities, NAFI recognized the need to unite youth and law enforcement and established the Youth & Police Initiative (YPI).

YPI has been evolving for over two decades to build bonds between officers and the communities they serve. Launched to educate new police officers on youth perspectives, YPI saw positive results in bringing together local teens and patrol officers. Since then, the program has continued innovating and expanding with one goal: strengthening the relationships between young people and the police.

Central to YPI's mission is an accomplished leadership team with complementary expertise across fields such as law enforcement, youth development, nonprofit management, and community programs. Led by founder and NAFI principal Dave Smith, YPI's team of professionals oversees daily operations, special initiatives, strategic alliances, marketing, and the initiative's domestic and global growth. Leveraging the team's diverse skills and perspectives, this leadership team develops innovative approaches and maximizes the program's effectiveness at building bridges between youth and police.

YPI takes a multifaceted approach to strengthening youth-police relationships. Communities can implement YPI's in-person or virtual curriculum, comprising several structured sessions over several months. Small teams of teenagers and law enforcement officers engage in meaningful dialogues and activities, exploring topics central to their interactions such as stereotypes, conflict resolution, and community policing. In-person programming involves 15 youth and eight officers meeting over five sessions, along with community events, while the online model involves eight young people and five officers engaging virtually over six session modules.

The organization additionally offers a Train-the-Trainer program to build leadership capacity at the local level. The model trains community members to lead YPI's programming independently in their own municipalities. Teams of up to six participants undergo an intensive four-part training. Those certified join an ongoing learning community of peer trainers from other areas, participating in expert-led webinars to improve practices. Newly certified individuals further receive coaching support as they start training others.

Beyond its core training programs, YPI strengthens youth-police bonds through collaborative follow-up initiatives. These include leadership development, mentorship programs, arts engagement, and summits.

YPI has demonstrated tremendous success in repairing fractured youth-police dynamics and establishing productive partnerships based on cooperation and understanding. Research shows that YPI has reduced juvenile crime rates and tense youth and law enforcement encounters where it has been implemented. Meanwhile, young people report better perceptions of police and increased trust, believing officers genuinely care about community well-being and act with integrity. In 2019, the United States Department of Homeland Security recognized YPI's potential to drive positive change.

The organization's efforts and accomplishments in improving police-youth relations have garnered significant recognition from respected and widely-read publications such as The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. Features have highlighted its success with community policing initiatives that help overcome stereotypes between the two groups by easing tensions and finding common ground.

To further its impact, YPI collaborates with community partners, inviting organizations to refer motivated youth showing leadership potential. As programs expand, YPI seeks more funding allies to ensure long-term sustainability. YPI also invites organizations and people willing to promote awareness of its mission through marketing and grassroots efforts.

#carlos mejia new york

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richataylor17 · 2 years ago

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Biofeedback Therapy And Anxiety: Is it Effective?

Here is a guide that explains what biofeedback therapy is and whether biofeedback therapy is an effective option when going through anxiety.

Biofeedback is a therapeutic tool, referred to as applied psychophysiological feedback. When seeking therapy, it is the process of viewing involuntary functions of the body, usually by electronic instrumentation and learning to influence it.

It gets done by making changes in cognition and a biofeedback therapist’s help. Biofeedback therapy provides a clear, visible, and detailed demonstration of the mind-body connection.

It is a form of treatment for learning self-regulation for controlling involuntary functions for improving health. But does therapy work effectively to deal with anxiety? Patients coping with stress go through a condition that psychiatrists help.

It is one of the most commonly observed conditions causing emotional disorders in the American population. Not just that, anxiety is meant to interfere with the quality of everyday life.

What are Anxiety Disorders?

Chronic anxiety disorder is a mental health condition that makes a person worry too much and stress about little things. And, Biofeedback therapy Dallas can help! It makes one feel pressure in all situations and every aspect of life.

The individual is aware of their condition, but there is no way to control it. It can be highly distressing to see oneself going through emotional trauma every day.

Plus, it tends to disrupt relationships, reduce social connections, impede a person's ability to fulfill their tasks, and lower self-esteem. Individuals going through anxiety say they never go away from it but learn to cope with it.

But how the therapy works for anxiety can turn the tables. There is no way to feel depressed, unwanted, or harmful throughout your life.

While anxiety can lead to behavioral changes, it also has a way of affecting physical health. Tension alleviates your breathing, heart rate, blood pressure, giving you serious troubles. If it gets intense, you might start to feel dizzy, nauseous, and lightheaded too.

Therapy and Anxiety Disorder

Anxiety is somehow affecting our mental and physical state and wellbeing. We don't realize it until it's too late and chained in our thoughts for life. Biofeedback therapy is a treatment that allows a person to witness their bodily processes.

This treatment comes as a ray of hope for people to fight back with a stubborn condition. The measure gets displayed on the screen, and the therapist teaches individuals how to control it.

Biofeedback for anxiety gets used as a source of therapy and other medications and treatments. It can not get administered as a sole treatment on its own.

There are different types of Biofeedback therapy Dallas. All of which can effectively get used to treat anxious individuals. For that, the devices used can measure various bodily activities.

Feedback thermometer: For skin temperature and attached to the fingers.

Electromyograph: For muscle tension of a targeted muscle.

Electrodermograph: For sweating glands in the individual.

Electroencephalograph: For brain activity.

Heart rate measurement: For pulse and heart rate.

What Does Therapy for Anxiety Look Like?

Looking at the different types of anxiety disorder and the other impacts on individuals.

A few of the most common physical symptoms that occur to most patients include increased heart rate, difficulty breathing, sweating, etc. It puts the person's health into flight or fight mode, which can be too disturbing.

Biofeedback is proven to show signs of relief in patients dealing with anxiousness. A, one can control these symptoms by controlling their body's involuntary functions.

Biofeedback therapy Dallas for anxiety gives patients the ability to control the mental areas where they lack. Holding a situation and calming oneself seems to be a challenge, but therapy can show its effectiveness. When the patients are shown their physical symptoms, it comes as a shock to see how the body is responding to them.

Later through relaxing techniques suggested by a biofeedback therapist in Dallas Tx, they can decrease their bodily processes. When they feel their body is under control, they get calm and feel healthy yet again. Eventually, this can help them receive the right motivation to begin their life and never give up.

Conclusion

Are you dealing with an Anxiety disorder? Do you want to change how you look at things, how you feel,l and reduce negativity?

Biofeedback treatment is proven to be effective for all. When seeking the treatment, you will realize controlling your body movements feels satisfying.

#healthcare #biofeedbackdallas #biofeedbacktherapist #biofeedbacktherapy #tumblr

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thephloxbayou · 3 months ago

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It really shocked me how she clearly views him as a brother, but then also was gonna dump him, like the fucking cognitive dissonance.

Ive been seeing really positive reactions to his portrayal of autism and how he is treated by society, which is awesome!

A few people have said the makers portray this in a way that they are clearly aware of how his race and coding influence the perception not only of the audience but of the characters around him. Im not sure how i feel about "yeah its racism.. against ROBOTS" as it kinda feels like the common cop out of "lets use an alien race to show how racism is bad!" in many sci fi pieces and how it kinda speaks what people experiencing actual racism are telling us.

My instinct is to not trust it's a good portrayal because they often arent, and to look at what, in this case, Black Americans feel about it. I havent found much information yet on that. But maybe they did do a good job! I think I have to watch it again to get a better hold of my own feelings on it.

Per some replies in the notes of this post, I viewed his race as neutral until she slapped him and then cried. Yes, it was a very emotional, intense moment. She was angry he wouldnt listen, her friend died because of it, shes upset at that but also the change of the person she thought she knew, and her own reaction to hitting him, her BROTHER, why would she do that? (Her thoughts). Problem is, it's all about a white woman reacting to her own feelings about slapping a black man. :/

Got to see Alien Romulus.

Old school props? FUCK YES

But uhhhhhhh how the sole black guy who is coded autistic is the robot and what he does through the movie, And what his race and coding apply to the message?

But as for his actor, FUCK YES lauch this mans career into space cuz he's going for the staaarrrsss

#alien romulus #alien romulus spoilers

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watching-pictures-move · 2 years ago

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Movie Review | Year of the Dragon (Cimino, 1985)

This review contains spoilers.

There’s a difference between a movie being racist and a character being racist, and I think a scene here between Mickey Rourke and Ariane that illustrates the distinction. Rourke tells Ariane he’s been reading up on the history of Chinese people in America, and shows an awareness of the discriminatory laws they were subject to. He refers to a picture celebrating the completion of a railroad, noting the demographic groups who were present, and points out that the Chinese labourers who did the actual backbreaking work of building them were not in the photo. One might think he’s developed an understanding of their marginalization, but his next line reveals the opposite, as he speculates that it was due to their secretive nature. Rourke’s character, a highly decorated police captain who takes over the precinct in New York’s Chinatown, spews an endless stream of bigotry as he wages his war on the local triads, yet scenes like that illustrate his limited understanding. His Vietnam service is a critical detail, showing that he conflates the Chinese with the Vietnamese as he tries to essentially re-fight the war on his own terms, disgusted by the defeatist, corrupt cops that populate his precinct and try to constrain him.

And while Rourke is our protagonist and much of the film is filtered through his perspective, the movie devotes a sizable amount of screentime to upstart gangster John Lone, who plays the movie in silky smooth drip king mode. And while Lone’s charisma is undeniable, it isn’t eager to either glibly worship him or play up his villainy, but instead drops us into his world, showing his role in the community (offering his help to people whose options are limited in mainstream society), with his peers (maneuvering to oust an elder, more risk-averse triad leader) and running his criminal enterprise (a trip to Thailand to give us supply contacts a bloody surprise). These are not positive images of Chinese Americans, but like William Friedkin’s Cruising, which attracted similar controversy for making a cynical thriller about the gay leather bar scene when LGBTQ representation in Hollywood movies was extremely limited, there’s too much detail and genuine fascination in the portrayal for it to be dismissed as bigotry. Was any other Hollywood movie of this time and with this level of budget even acknowledging that there are multiple Chinese languages (going so far as to reference the Hakka dialect)? I am not of the group being depicted and as a result may not share the same sensitivities, but I can’t agree with the claims that this movie is racist. (It’s worth noting that Victor Wong and Dennis Dun, who have important parts in this, also starred in the following year’s Big Trouble in Little China, another movie about a clueless white guy in Chinatown, although that movie is more overtly satirical in this respect. I also should note that as a Torontonian, I chuckled whenever the villains mentioned the rival triad from Toronto.)

This is also a moody, forcefully directed crime thriller, powered by a electric performance by Rourke, who hurtles through the movie like a natural disaster, leaving everything and everyone he comes across in ruins. (If there’s one issue with Rourke’s role, it’s the weird dye they put on his hair to make him look like a grizzled veteran. Rourke was at the peak of his sex appeal at this point, so the bad dye job clashes extra hard with his good looks.) I just got finished defending the movie for distinguishing its perspective from its hero’s, yet there’s no denying that Rourke’s immense magnetism pulls us into his orbit, and in its most thrilling sequences locks onto his feverish intensity. Look at the scene where a pair of assassins kills his wife, and he takes frantically takes them out, the second one being dispatched with a gruesome headshot and subsequent explosion. Or the scene where he accosts Lone in a garishly lit nightclub, barging into multiple bathroom stalls where people are doing cocaine (an unexpectedly comedic touch), and then chases after two gunwomen with new wave hairdos, recklessly exchanging gunfire through traffic. Or the showdown with its mixture of car chase and gunplay on train tracks. The movie may be messy (there’s a subplot about an undercover agent that seems forgotten about for much of the runtime, although it too gets a bloody, forceful denouement), but as a fan of Michael Cimino’s Heaven’s Gate, I don’t think neatness is always and asset, and scenes like these are bracingly visceral in their impact.

I do think the movie suffers in its portrayal of its female characters, with Rourke’s wife and Ariane coming off less like fully formed people than as plot devices and extensions of Rourke’s psyche. The idea of the long suffering wife seems more important than who the wife really is. And the idea of Ariane, with her cultural identity and her fancy apartment with a view to die for (which Rourke transforms into a police clubhouse of sorts in one of the movie’s funnier scenes) seems more important than how she really thinks and feels. I understand Ariane’s performance was frequently cited as one of the movie’s weaknesses, but I think the writing lets her down more than actual deficiencies in her acting, and the last line of the movie concludes their relationship on a completely wrong note. (I understand that Cimino was forced to put this in at the studio’s request after they didn’t like the original closing line: “Well, I guess if you fight a war long enough, you end up marrying the enemy.” In my opinion, the original line would have been clumsy but still greatly preferable to what we get in the finished film.) But I suppose the fact that these characters don’t feel like three dimensional characters is true to how Rourke sees them, being so caught up in his crusade that it’s withered away his empathy.

In short, this is undeniably messy, but also very good.

#film #movie review #year of the dragon #michael cimino

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teawaffles · 3 years ago

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Albert’s Drinking Contest: Chapter 2

“——This is, the twentieth!”

Announcing the number of glasses he’d drained, Moran set his empty wine glass on the table with a thud.

He was still clear-headed, and able to hold a conversation. But those wild features of his were now flushed, as red as the copious amounts of wine that had entered his stomach.

“Ready to give up now, Albert?”

In his tipsy, trembly vision, Moran beheld his opponent before him.

But far from giving up, Albert was completely sober. There was no discernible change in his complexion; as if he’d started drinking right there and then, he tipped back his glass, and downed his wine with ease.

With that, they were now tied at 20 glasses each. Ignoring the man staring at him with twitching eyes, Albert called out to Louis, who was still serving as their waiter.

“No matter how many glasses I drink, this profound flavour never ceases to delight. To have procured such an excellent vintage — your selections are exquisite as always, Louis.”

“Thank you very much. As I recall, this is an import from America.”

“Ah: I’ve heard that the French vineyards are still afflicted with blight. [1] It’s a pity we won’t be able to enjoy their splendid red wines for some time to come; but it’s also our good fortune to have learned about the quality of wines from the New World.” [2]

“…………”

Albert was being much too relaxed, and had even started to digress into areas completely unrelated to the match; hearing that, Moran shot him a look of displeasure.

Incidentally, the challenge had been much too great for Fred: he’d been the first to pass out, flopping onto the table with his glass in hand. Immediately after, they’d covered him with a blanket so he wouldn’t catch a cold, and the man was presently fast asleep.

“Well then, both sides have managed to consume twenty glasses. It seems both of you still have room for more, but…… if I were to speak from an impartial standpoint, you appear to be at a slight disadvantage, Moran.”

Having observed their match, William leisurely shared his views.

Moran knew his analysis was unbiased, and that was precisely why he let out a groan of frustration. His face flushed, he grabbed the bottle of wine, intending to pour his next drink; but when he realised that not a single drop had trickled out, he waved the bottle in the air.

“Sorry, Louis. It’s empty, so could you bring a new one?”

“Understood.”

Louis promptly retrieved a fresh bottle, and with brisk efficiency, filled both their glasses.

“This’ll be, the twenty-first.”

As soon as his glass was full, without any intention of savouring the wine, Moran chugged it all in one breath.

But the next moment, he was swamped by an intense wave of vertigo: somehow, it seemed he was much nearer his limit than he’d thought.

In contrast, Albert merely tilted his glass, observing the colours and clarity of the freshly-poured wine. Then he swirled it once, bringing it near his nose to savour its aroma, and took a sip to taste.

“Is this a Madeira?” [3]

Standing beside them, Louis revealed the bottle label with a smile.

“Indeed — your wine tasting is accurate as always, nii-sama. Would you like some salted cheese to complement it?”

“I’d prefer to pair such cheeses with a sweet port. [4] Or perhaps we could have a chicken with that, like Sir John Falstaff.” [5]

“In exchange for one’s soul, indeed.” [6]

Watching the two brothers quote Shakespeare as they chatted, Moran was incredulous.

“……Y’know, this is a drinking match on which I’ve staked my dignity as a man — not some wine-guessing quiz at a party,” he protested.

However, in a long-suffering gesture, Albert merely shrugged.

“Although this is an earnest match, Colonel, it’ll become a dreary affair if you leave no room for entertainment. Moreover, this wine was used to toast the American Declaration of Independence, making it perfect for tonight’s celebration.” [7]

At that bit of trivia from Albert, Moran looked positively fed up.

“Oooh, if you have so much time to share your vast knowledge, then why don’t you hurry up and drink already?”

But far from being put out, an elegant smile rose to Albert’s lips.

“Oh dear; you’re in an awful rush, Colonel. Could it be a sign that you’re nearing your limit?”

“Wha……! N-No way. I can still continue.”

Albert had hit right where it hurt, and Moran uttered a groan that was rather different from before. It seemed his opponent had observed his giddy spell from earlier.

Although the match was far from over, Moran was now consumed by a crushing sense of defeat. Seeing that, Albert made a show of draining his glass at a leisurely pace.

Even after downing a substantial amount of wine, the eldest son of the Moriarty family was unruffled, and Moran shot him a complaint.

“You’re not actually drinking some deep red tea instead of wine, are ya?”

Perhaps it was because the liquor had addled his brain, for Moran put forth a suspicion that he wouldn’t normally have entertained.

To that, both William and Louis burst into laughter.

“That’s a very unique deduction, Moran,” said William, as he struggled to rein in his mirth. “But even I can’t devise a magic trick like that.”

Louis was also trying very hard to suppress his amusement. “I filled both your glasses from the same bottle: how could it be that alcohol came out one time, and tea the next? It’s so unlike you to even consider such a ridiculous idea, Mr Moran. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time to cut back on the liquor?”

“S-Shut it. I was just saying. And I’m not giving up now.”

Their teasing had completely soured his mood. Glancing to the side, he saw Fred, who was sound asleep.

“Somehow, I think he might’ve just laughed at that too……”

Moran gazed at the man he thought of as a younger brother, dead to the world with a peaceful look on his face. Then he fixed his blanket, which had slipped a little out of place.

When his two brothers had finally managed to regain their composure, Albert spoke up.

“In fact, Colonel: it would better protect your good name if we were to pretend that outlandish trick was true. Or perhaps we could give you a handicap, and allow you to alternate between wine and tea.”

“You don’t say. Then I’ll have two drinks the next round.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, coming from you. If you’re the one to set up the cause of your own defeat, then it’ll make a convincing excuse to others, I see.”

“Urgh……”

No matter what he said, Albert had a ready riposte. As such, Moran swallowed his frustration, and returned his focus to the match.

“Anyway: Louis, keep it comin’, please.”

Seeing Moran try his utmost to put on a brave front, Louis was even beginning to find that a little cute; muttering his acknowledgement, he proceeded to fill Moran’s glass once more. Then, with great force, the man poured its entire contents down his throat.

“…………”

The alcohol burned like fire as it flowed into his stomach — all of a sudden, Moran came to his senses. Placing his glass on the table, he pondered.

His vexation at the Moriarty brothers’ teasing. His alcohol-induced befuddlement. And above all, Albert’s ability to hold his liquor, which had far outstripped his expectations.

His irritation at those three things had wound up completely flustering him. But once Moran calmed down and took stock of his situation, he realised William was right: he was clearly on the back foot.

Until now, he’d been unconsciously averting his eyes from his predicament by being oddly stubborn. But this pickle wouldn’t resolve itself if he just kept running away. If he continued to drink without a scheme in mind, then in his mind’s eye, he could see the outcome plain as day: he’d be out like a light in no time.

However, if he lost, then he’d have to listen to anything the victor said. Moran had originally set that rule as a way to spur himself on, thinking that there’d be no way he would lose. But now, it had lost virtually all effect in rousing his will to fight — all that remained, was the dread of what Albert would make him do upon his defeat.

He absolutely had to win. But the way things were going, it was all but certain that he’d lose.

In that case, the only option left would be——.

Within him, that conflict crystallised into a single decision.

“William,” he said. “Won’t you join in the match? Or rather: please, join.”

“Me? But why?”

Up to this point, William had been serving as an impartial judge, and he asked that with curiosity. But Moran did not answer; instead, his expression twisted into a bitter one as he continued.

“That’s not all. On top of you joining in…… If you’re agreeable, Albert, let’s ignore the count thus far and start afresh……. This is, truly a personal…… request from me.”

That faltering reply was very much unlike him, and William broke into a meaningful smile.

Moran’s decision — was to request that they increase the number of participants, and restart the game.

Despite his frustrations, Moran was well aware that he wouldn’t be able to beat Albert alone. Hence, he thought he’d bring in more opponents to counter him: even if it was just one more person.

The other part of his plan was to reset the match. If Albert agreed to that, then compared to the two existing players, someone joining in halfway would naturally have the advantage. But from Moran’s point of view, even if he was defeated, it would still be better than having Albert directly exercise his “winner’s privilege” on him — such were his complicated emotions. It was an absurd request, to be sure; but at least he hadn’t proposed having Albert compete against the combined total of both his and the other participant’s tally: perhaps that was a reflection of whatever faint scraps of self-respect Moran still had within him.

Perceiving Moran’s complex tangle of emotions, William placed a hand under his chin and pondered.

It’d also be fun to take on his suggestion. Although he did have his role as the judge, it wasn’t as if the match had any strict rules to begin with — they could easily do without one.

However, if he were to join in, and the match were to be restarted, then both Moran and Albert would be at a disadvantage. When it came to wine, he knew his elder brother’s stomach for it was bottomless; but still, it was clearly unfair to have a new and virtually-sober participant waltz into an honest drinking match. And yet, then again, he didn’t want to dismiss Moran’s “request” out of hand.

In this situation, the best option would be——.

But the instant William made his decision, and tried to voice his answer, Louis quietly raised a hand.

“Hold on a minute. Could it be that you were thinking of taking up his suggestion, nii-san?”

“……Yes, I was just about to say that. Seeing as Albert nii-san doesn’t appear to have any issue with that.”

William looked at his older brother, seated across from Moran. Then, Albert flashed them both a slight smile. Although it would mean that he would gain a new opponent, and the contest would start again from the top, it seemed he didn’t mind one bit.

Registering Albert’s generosity, Louis pointed at himself.

“In that case, may I participate?”

“……You, Louis?” Moran asked.

Louis proceeded to explain himself briefly. “I cannot countenance the possibility — however slight — that after joining the match, my brother will end up drinking too much and impacting his health. Hence, I believe that issue will be negated if I were to join the match in his stead.”

“But in that case, I would end up worrying for your health, Louis,” said William, furrowing his brows slightly.

At his brother’s kindness, Louis unwittingly cracked a smile.

“It makes me very happy to hear that. But it’s rare to hear Mr Moran make such a serious request, and so I can understand how you’d want to help him out. Of course, as Mr Moran said: this is only if you’re agreeable, Albert nii-sama.”

“Alright. Having heard that much, I shan’t object,” replied William. “What about you, nii-san?”

His elegant smile unfaltering as ever, the eldest son of the Moriarty family nodded.

“I don’t mind. If you’re certain, Louis, then I shall respect your decision.” Then, Albert’s expression turned solemn. “However, as you mentioned yourself, you absolutely must not reach the point of destroying your own health. Even though the colonel can’t help it, Louis, my condition is that you cannot drink recklessly. Is that alright?”

“Understood, nii-sama. ——Well then, it’s settled.”

Nodding in assent, Louis quietly took a seat beside Moran. Absorbing how his ridiculous request had been granted, more than gratitude, Moran’s expression was one of astonishment.

“Is this really alright, Louis? I know I was the one who asked, but Albert’s no pushover. If we lose, then you’ll have to suffer the forfeit too……”

However, Louis smiled wryly as he replied.

“I already knew that when I asked to join, didn’t I? To be honest, I don’t want to stand opposed to either you or Albert nii-sama. But now that I’ve made my decision, I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

“……Louis.”

That resolve had shaken Moran, so much so that he began to tremble. Watching him out the corner of his eye, Louis filled both their glasses; then Albert too filled his glass by himself, and raised it toward the two of them.

“Well then, once again, let’s give it our all.”

“I won’t be holding back either, you two.”

“Oh, both of you will be sorry real soon.”

Having gained a dependable ally, Moran’s enthusiasm was now back in full force.

Looking at the three of them, William spoke.

“So with Louis’s entry, the contest shall start again from scratch. But for both Moran and Albert nii-san, the next glass will be your twenty-third: please take care not to injure your health.”

With that word of caution from William, the drinking contest had resumed.

Footnotes:

[1] French vineyards had been devastated by aphids in the mid-19th century, and then fungal diseases after that. (Wikipedia)

[2] The “New World” refers to the Americas, in contrast to the Old World, or Eastern Hemisphere of the Earth. (Wikipedia)

[3] Madeira is a fortified wine made on the Madeira Islands, off the African coast. (Wikipedia)

[4] Port is a fortified wine produced in the Douro Valley in Portugal. (Wikipedia)

[5] Sir John Falstaff is a character featured in several of Shakespeare’s plays. (Wikipedia) He is renowned as a drunkard and glutton, whose favourite food is capons — roosters reared specially for their meat. (BBC article)

[6] A reference to Faust, who traded his soul with the Devil in exchange for worldly pleasures. (Wikipedia)

Aside: As far as I can tell, this line doesn’t actually appear in Shakespeare’s works. But in the legend of Faust, Faust makes his pact with the Devil via the demon Mephistopheles — who is mentioned in Shakespeare’s play The Merry Wives of Windsor (Wikipedia), which stars Sir John Falstaff as its main character.

[7] This is apparently true: Wikipedia

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet

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stephspurs · 3 years ago

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ONLY ANGEL - A John Stones Fanfiction

STEPHSPURS. - THE MASTERLIST ONLY ANGEL - FANFICTION MASTERLIST

The lights go down, the room turns dark, a murmur of people still trying to find their seats settles into the otherwise silence. The floor to ceiling screen behind the runway awakens to show a video montage of arguably the most famous supermodels in the world. “It’s difficult being a woman, and other women understand that...but it’s also fun to be a woman and I think we should be able to own that”

The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is unlike any other in the world, it is the equivalent of the SuperBowl for supermodels. Bodies like Gisele Bundchen, Heidi Klum, Tyra Banks, grace the runway year in year out for the most-celebrated lingerie event in the runway calendar. A change of scenery for the traditionally American-based fashion show saw the glittery stage set up and a plethora of beautiful women touch down in London town.

Josephine Andersen, a 25 year old Danish-born supermodel found herself sitting backstage in hair and makeup, in a scantily-clad lingerie set with the iconic barely-there silk wrap adorned with the famous branding across the back of her shoulders and ‘Angel Josephine’ across her left side, right above her beating heart. Make no mistake, Josephine was meant to be here. She had worked hard every single day since the last runway event that she was fortunate enough to have walked in for the lingerie brand, to prove her rightful place as an Angel.

Yes, success is the direct result of hard work - and there was no denying that Josephine was a hard worker. She knew that she wasn’t special, and like most, she would have to work for what she wanted out of her life. What she didn’t know before going into the modelling industry at the ripe old age of 13, was that it was as mentally challenging as it was physical. Everyday was a constant battle between her head, her heart, and her agent. Nevertheless, she was aware of how difficult it was to be a woman, but she was also aware of just how fun it could be too.

John Stones, a 27 year old Barnsley-born (although his mate Kyle Walker would argue the point that his postcode says Sheffield but that's a story for another time) footballer for Manchester City Football Club, found himself sitting front row of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in London. He had never attended an event quite like it before, his mates sat either side of him ready to enjoy the spectacle that he didn’t think he would ever have the pleasure of attending. With the current season underway and the fact that his home club was a whole 4 hour drive away from his current location, it was a small miracle that the group of lads from Manchester were allowed to attend at all. These boys were down for a night of beautiful women, lingerie and getting up to no good.

The music started, the screen went black, the crowd erupted in applause for the first model through the parting screen - Angel Josephine. Strutting down the runway to Harry Styles' live version of Only Angel, John was mesmerised by the woman before him. She was working the crowd, sensual glances, little smirks, a cheeky grin here and there. Standing at the end of the runway, facing the abundance of cameras, Josephine gave her best smile and a confident wink to the camera before tossing her hair over her shoulder and proceeding to walk back up the runway.

John hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the girl, he wasn’t sure he had blinked since she stepped foot out on the runway - if he closed his eyes for just a millisecond he would miss too much. He was addicted to her beauty, never having seen something so ethereal in his life. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the champagne, but he honestly believed that there was an angel before him. Following her with his eyes as she walked back towards where he was seated, he made eye contact with her and she held it. Sending him a wink, and blowing him a kiss before smirking to herself and exiting the stage. She had no idea the effect that she had on the otherwise cocky man, she had reduced him to a puddle of mush, too intimidated by her beauty. The moment she was out of his sight, it was like he could breathe again, the sound that was previously muted around him returned to its full volume and his tunnel vision had widened to take in the whole show. Taking another sip of his champagne, he caught the eye of his best friend Kyle (yes, the same Kyle from earlier) who smirked and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Kyle had seen the whole interaction, albeit limited and largely one sided, and knew exactly what kind of trouble his friend could get himself into here.

Backstage Josephine was being ushered from the runway to the small curtain that was hanging from a clothes rack, providing a make-shift dressing room for her to strip off of the current segments undergarments and into the next set that had been so kindly draped over the top rail by one of the wardrobe assistants. Normally she would be thriving under the fast paced nature of the evening, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a drug, however she was encumbered by her own thoughts of the devilishly handsome man in the front row. His eyes were engraved in the back of her mind, when she shut her own eyes she could see the intensity of his stare - it was numbing her, slowing her down. She was desperate for another glance at him, being brought back into the moment by the yell of a backstage hand asking for her to hurry and get into her next wings, she stripped and redressed. Was she lightheaded from the pressure that she had placed on herself to prepare for the evening, or was it because he seemed to take up all of the air in the room and space in her brain? She could argue that she was fulfilling her role as an Angel by winking at him and blowing him a little kiss. It was her job to flirt with the crowd and put on a show after all, but she knew exactly what her intentions were and they were nothing but devilish.

Perhaps the only event more iconic than the fashion show itself, the afterparty was what most people involved in the show looked forward to. The humans, even with their celebrity status, had the opportunity to mix with the angels - who, for one night only, let go of their halos and swapped them for horns. For one night, the beautiful women of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show in all of their angelic glory; could be as bad as they dared to. This was the unspoken truth of the after party, and if you had the fortune of being able to attend, it was not an event easily passed up.

John found himself once again surrounded by his mates, mingling with the models and his celebrity pals alike. Not once had he forgotten about the first angel he had ever laid eyes on, he didn’t even know her name but by God did he know her body. It was as though the 30-odd seconds she was before him his eyes scanned her from head to toe, every curve of her body engraved into his memory. He could remember how the light reflected off of the body shimmer she had bathed in before walking the runway, how the curve of her waist continued at the perfect degree to complete her perfectly-sized derriere. Before long, he felt the room get smaller and smaller, the air was thicker and his hearing had started to muffle. She was standing in his direct line of sight - not that it would matter if she was standing on the other side of the room, behind a crowd of people, John’s eyes would find and fixate on her.

John watched as she worked the room, obligatory pleasantries flowing from her lips as she double kissed the cheeks of men who were old enough to be her grandfather. He watched their leather-like hands wrap themselves around her lower back, too low for his liking. He watched her smile and pretend that she was comfortable, but he could see the look behind her eyes scream that she shouldn’t trust their words - that they didn’t want to just buy her a drink. Without realising, his hands started to curl around his scotch glass until he had to put it down on the table before him and excuse himself from the company of his friends and the new company they had invited to their table. Weaving his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving the side of her face, he began to make his way towards her. No plan of action, nothing to say, anything would be good enough in an attempt to rescue her from what is looking to be her own personal version of hell. As though the universe had willed it, she looked into the crowd and locked onto the gaze of the tall man who was currently striding towards her. The look on his face told everyone around them that they weren’t to get in his way, to mess with him.

Reaching her, she held her breath and waited for his next steps. Josephine didn’t know what to expect, but the handsome smile that erupted from his previously pursed lips and filled up his face had sent her heart into a frenzy. For just that moment, she chose to believe that that smile was reserved for her and only her. Reaching forward and coincidentally knocking the older man’s arm from around her waist and replacing it with his own, he leant forward and planted a loud kiss to her cheek before wrapping her in a hug that warmed her soul. Her whole body pushed into his, she was unable to see his face but she could hear his heart and it told her that she was safe.

“I’m so proud of you, babe. I reckon I'm the luckiest guy in the room to be able to call you my girlfriend” He said into her ear, loud enough for the group of older men to hear and begin to talk amongst themselves after realising they had no chance with the Danish beauty, not that she ever gave them that impression to begin with.

Pulling away from the tall man, she looked up at him and gave him her best smile, a sincere smile. She ran her hands down from his back and found his hands that were placed on her waist, lacing their fingers together and pulling him off into the crowd to the bar.

“So, boyfriend, do you have a name?” She spoke whilst picking up the vodka on the rocks - not her favourite drink but it had little to no calories and anything that had a calorie count lower than her weight, which was difficult enough to find in the first place, was a win in her eyes.

“John, but I prefer to be called your boyfriend, even if it's only for one night” John spoke back to her, looking down at the angel who had covered herself up a bit more since the last time he had the pleasure of looking at her. However, the outfit she was currently wearing still allowed John’s mind, and eyes, to wander. A secret moment shared between the two in an overcrowded room.

PART 2. (smut warning)

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iamthenightcolormeblack · 3 years ago

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Impressions of Bride and Prejudice (2004)

I finally watched this movie as it is currently free on YouTube! It's a really interesting "modern-day" adaptation (specifically a Bollywood musical) of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice which takes place in Amritsar, India, London, England and California, USA instead of the English countryside. It stars Aishwarya Rai as Elizabeth Bennet (now Lalita Bakshi) and Martin Henderson as Mr. Darcy (William Darcy).

Names:

Bakshis = Bennets

Jaya Bakshi = Jane Bennet

Lalita Bakshi = Elizabeth Bennet

Maya Bakshi = Mary Bennet

Lakhi Bakshi = Lydia Bennet (Kitty isn't included here)

Kholi Saab = Mr. Collins

Balraj = Bingley

Chandra Lamba = Charlotte Lucas

Kiran = Caroline Bingley

Darcy's mother (Catherine Darcy) = Lady Catherine de Bourgh

The Casting:

Aishwarya Rai as Lalita Bakshi. She's captivating and beautiful as Lalita, with intelligence and wits to match. The film understands why Elizabeth Bennet is one of literature's greatest heroines: she has a lot of self-respect, speaks her mind, and refuses to compromise on her values. What's most important is that she achieves the balance between the two clashing cultures: she cares about her family and respects Indian traditions yet is also a strong individual who keeps her dignity.

Martin Henderson as William Darcy. I don't like that Darcy is an American in this movie because (in general) Americans are usually less reserved than British people, so it takes away a key part of Darcy's character (his repressed emotions). He's much more sympathetic than book Darcy because he seems to be more open-minded towards Indian culture the more he learns about it (unlike book Darcy, who is stubborn and insists that his "good opinion once lost is lost forever"). In the book, Darcy's pride has several characteristics (belief in the correctness of his opinions, belief in his social superiority, bad treatment of others he thinks is beneath him). I don't like how the film simplified his pride into imperialism/ethnocentrism, which he lets go of pretty quickly. Plus his "rudeness" can easily be perceived as discomfort in a new cultural environment because he hasn't been exposed to Indian culture, whereas in the book it seems to be intentional (and Darcy acknowledges to Elizabeth that he was taught to treat others beyond his own social circle meanly). Overall I had rather too much sympathy for him because he's too easy to read; he's experiencing a lot of culture shocks which he isn't prepared for, and his imperialistic beliefs (which come from his mother) don't help. One of the reasons book Darcy is interesting is because he's mysterious; his emotions remain hidden and the only sign of his growing love for Elizabeth is his staring at her. This Darcy is just a typical white American boy who is in love with a woman far superior to him in terms of intellect and cultural awareness.

Nitin Ganatra as Kohli Saab. Mr. Collins is one of my favorite cringe characters ever and never fails to disappoint. In this movie, he's an accountant who lives in the Beverly Hills area in Southern California and is very arrogant because he thinks he's a big shot living close to celebrities in a one-of-a-kind colonial home (when in actuality he lives in a cookie-cutter house in a suburb). He peppers his speech with Western slang to show off how "American" (and thus wealthy) he is, yet still clings to outmoded beliefs that women should be submissive housewives. He represents the very worst of Western culture in that he's materialistic and looks down on Indian culture as beneath him. In his quest for riches he has lost his Indian identity and become greedy.

Notable Scenes:

The first dance. Balraj is happy to have fun and show off his awesome dancing skills. Darcy, meanwhile, observes that the mothers are eyeing Balraj for the marriage market and is worried that his friend may be trapped by gold-diggers. He's clearly uncomfortable and out of his element here, so Kiran helps translate the songs for him. It's interesting seeing Kiran as a translator here because it would explain why she's one of the few people Darcy hangs out with; she's a cultural intermediary here to help him acclimate to a strange new environment.

Darcy snubs Lalita. This part in the book where Darcy insults Elizabeth by proclaiming her "tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me" is significant in forming Elizabeth's hatred of Darcy. Not only is he impolite in refusing to dance with Elizabeth, he also shames her by criticizing her looks. In the movie, Darcy excuses himself from dancing with Lalita by saying that he's busy preparing for a conference (in this version, he's a rich businessman who operates luxury hotels). I wish they had kept the original insult in because without it, Lalita's dislike of Darcy has less merit. While it was impolite of him to not dance, he did use a proper excuse and didn't insult Lalita, so unlike in the book, it doesn't make sense why she would hate him so intensely after that one meeting.

A Marriage Has Come to Town song. In this song-and-dance number, Lalita and Jaya are preparing for the wedding to Balraj. The whole town is excited for the wedding and Lalita wonders if life for a woman is all about getting married to be a mere wife: "It seems they had nothing in their lives before today / and why are they so happy to give a daughter away."

Darcy and Lalita conversation #1: Lalita points out most Amritsar residents can't afford to stay at Darcy's luxury hotels; Darcy says standards are necessary, justifying the high price. Darcy says he finds arranged marriages strange and "backwards," hinting at an affinity with Lalita as they are both "romantics." Lalita, still thinking that Darcy is attempting to insult Indian culture, says that arranged marriages have evolved and may not be so evil as he thinks it is.

Lalita and Darcy "accomplished woman" scene. So they have the part from the book where they have Darcy's unrealistic list of the characteristics of his perfect woman and then it becomes a culture clash. Lalita says Darcy's whole hotel business is imperialism (the tourists visit without appreciating Indian culture and the jobs created only benefit the well-off). Darcy replies: "But I'm not British" ("American exceptionalism" is just another form of imperialism).

Dinner with Kohli Saab. I love watching all the "Dinner with Mr. Collins" scenes from all Pride and Prejudice adaptations because it reveals Collins' great arrogance in assuming himself to be of greater importance than he is, as well as his bad manners. This movie does not disappoint; Kohli Saab literally eats with his fingers, shoving rice into his mouth while talking at the same time. Meanwhile, he spews out misogynistic views of women, stating that he came to India to find a "traditional" wife who will serve and obey him; after all, there is "no life without wife." He notes that the Indian-American girls have "a conceited sort of independence" (not what he actually said in the movie, this is a quote from the book which really fits here) and that some of the Indian-American girls "have turned into the lesbian." Lalita later recalls that watching Kohli Saab eat is like observing "a Jackson Pollock painting."

"No Life Without Wife" song. An accurate reading of Kholi Saab: he's "crude and loud" and came to find a wife by flashing his "green card, new house, and big cash." The song reveals what a hypocrite he is; he's lonely and pathetic because there is "no life without wife" yet he won't respect his wife as his equal. I love the "Kohliwood" fantasy sequence where Lalita pictures herself unhappily serving Kohli as a submissive wife. After the song ends Lalita imagines herself marrying Wickham in the English countryside before it turns out Darcy is the groom; she runs away from him.

The Cobra dance. Maya shows off her dancing skills in an awkward dance. Kholi criticizes Indians for being "unsophisticated" (what an arrogant person) while Darcy, in a change of heart, praises how highly they value family.

Kholi's proposal. I love how he tries to train himself to power walk because it's trendy and before proposing stretches himself clumsily, knocking over a pot (he definitely isn't husband material). Lalita mocks Kholi's obsession with physical health, pointing out that many people are physically healthy but don't exercise their minds.

Visiting Kiran. Kiran is arrogant and takes the Bakshis over to her fancy apartment where the mother tries and fails to show some cultural knowledge. I find it interesting that the movie made Lalita and Kiran foils of each other. They are both intelligent women who are "multicultural" in that they can navigate both Indian and Western culture, but they use their cultural knowledge in different ways. Kiran uses it to belittle others and demonstrate her own superiority, while Lalita uses it as a means of gaining respect for herself and others.

Darcy ends up on the same airplane flight as Lalita. This is a cute scene where he gives the first class seat to Mrs. Bakshi just so he can sit with Lalita in economy class (he's totally in love with her!).

Kohli Saab's epic house tour. Love how he pays great attention to the jet tubs and the closets.

Meeting Darcy's mom. She's totally ethnocentric and possibly racist. The first thing she asks Lalita is "tell me about India" and she expresses her disappointment at Darcy's decision (because of Lalita, it's so obvious he's in love) not to buy the hotel in India because "everybody has their hand on India these days" (brings to mind spheres of influence/colonialism since the mother sees India as a place to make a profit). Then the mother reveals that she really isn't interested in India and only knows about its stereotypes: "well, with yoga, and spices, and...wonderful Eastern things here there's no point in traveling there anymore." Meanwhile Lalita retorts that "people haven't stopped going to Italy because Pizza Hut's around the corner."

The first proposal. Darcy's conflicted feelings for Lalita are effectively summed up (perhaps better than in the book, where he begins well but ends with a long account of the inferiority of Elizabeth's connections): "he loves her in spite of the fact that he tried to forget about her, he still wants to marry her in spite of the fact that his family (specifically his mom) will disapprove." Unfortunately, the emphasis on the social inferiority of Lalita's family is left out; Darcy doesn't say anything else until Lalita claims that he thinks her family is inferior and blames him for separating Jaya and Balraj. I don't like this because it seems like the separation of Jaya and Balraj was the only reason Elizabeth rejected Darcy. Also Elizabeth's admission that she did try to overlook her prejudice of Darcy doesn't make sense, because only after the first proposal does she do so.

Plot Changes. The major plot points are all included but the "order of events" has changed:

Lalita and Darcy become friends and she meets his family before his disastrous first proposal. There's a montage where they are traveling alone together, visiting the Grand Canyon and sharing a moment on the beach. I don't like this change because Darcy's separating Jane and Bingley wasn't the only reason Elizabeth rejected him, it was because she hated him (arrogant, proud, doesn't treat others nicely). By showing early on that Darcy is a good person, Lalita's prejudice against Darcy makes less sense because she now has a glimpse of Darcy's true character which in the book doesn't happen until the Pemberley visit.

Their early friendship disrupts Darcy's character journey because it reduces the significance of the first proposal to his character development. In the book, he doesn't start to reform himself until Elizabeth tells him that he needs to behave in a "more gentleman-like manner."

The first proposal is the consequence of all the miscommunication and false perceptions affecting Elizabeth and Darcy, and it motivates both characters to change. Elizabeth rightly scolds Darcy for being inconsiderate; he did the proposal for the selfish reason of purging his feelings so that he wouldn't have to suffer anymore and assumed that she would say yes. Elizabeth rejects him because of his rude manners and lack of consideration, and his defensiveness (where he portrays himself as the victim of feelings and implies he's such a good boy for wanting to marry her in spite of her horrid family) doesn't help. After realizing the extent to which Elizabeth hates him, Darcy writes The Letter to set things right, and Elizabeth realizes that she is not the best judge of character. Thus, giving us a fuller picture of Darcy's character and letting him charm Lalita before the first proposal reduces the significance of the event to the plot and character development.

Wickham and Lakhi have a connection early on, making Lakhi's attempted elopement inevitable. Right after the failed first proposal, Lakhi runs off with Wickham and Lalita and Darcy find out about it at the same time that Darcy comes to apologize and tell Lalita that Wickham is bad. I love that Wickham was punished really badly; after Darcy fights him, he gets slapped twice, once by Lalita and the second time by Lakhi. Even better is that Lakhi doesn't end up with Wickham.

Themes

The film uses the culture clash between India (Eastern) and Western cultures to examine what makes a good marriage.

Indian culture as presented by the film is more collectivist ("we" over "I"). It also promotes traditional gender roles, with women expected to be "meek and submissive" wives. In contrast, Western culture in the film is more individualistic and aspirational (careers and love are possible). But at its worst it condones exploitation of others for profit and cultural intolerance.

In the book, there are different kinds of "culture clashes:" traditional nobility versus new money (the Bingleys made their fortune in trade and Caroline is hoping to be an accomplished woman to make up for this), country versus city (Darcy offending Mrs. Bennet by claiming that the society is "confined and unvarying") and arranged versus romantic marriages.

The misunderstandings that propel the story (Darcy's dismissing of Elizabeth as "tolerable," him falling in love with her even though she still hates him, her belief in the legitimacy of "first impressions") are emphasized through the culture clash. Many of the conflicts in the film are a result of cultural stereotypes and conflicting beliefs.

Interestingly the film doesn't resolve the question it raises of how best to appreciate India and its culture. Lalita raises a lot of points about not oversimplifying Indian culture to a few stereotypes, but one could argue that India as represented by the film might be stereotypical. With the exception of the resort scenes and Goa beaches (which are tourist traps according to the film), the scenes in India heavily emphasize the "developing country" aspects of India with lots of pastoral scenes (cows crossing the road unharmed, farmland, dirt, shacks, dirty motorcycles fighting each other in traffic). Plus the "culture" as represented by the film's dance sequences seems to be the dominant Hindu culture with lots of elephants and saris and curry. Yes, I know this film is a romantic comedy, but the assertion that India is a complex, diverse country is contradicted by what we are presented. Presenting the rustic aspects of India would explain why the characters want to get out of India and go to the richer Western nations, but it harms the premise of the story that we shouldn't judge based on first impressions because the India scenes seem to confirm a Westerner's stereotypes of India (exotic people living in a primitive land).

Changing views on marriage: In the film, as in the book, we are presented with traditional and modern views on what makes a good marriage. Mr. Collins' marriage represents the traditional view in which marriage is a practical "economic proposition," much like a business deal where the marriage is made for the securing of material wealth and happiness comes last. Lady Catherine and other members of the aristocracy view marriage as a means of producing heirs (and bringing large amounts of money through dowries) to keep the property (source of power and wealth) in the family. The modern view of marriage is a partnership of equals who love and respect each other; happiness rather than material wealth/power is the priority. It threatens the power of the traditional nobles as it provides the potential for social climbing. Finally, it becomes another part of the culture clash, as it also ties in with the Western value of individualism, putting it at odds with the more collectivist Indian culture as presented by the film.

Elizabeth and Darcy in the book and in the film are united by their belief in a marriage based on love (the modern view). In the film, Darcy says he wants to look forward to starting each day with his wife, while Lalita says she wants a man who is a romantic and respects her for her mind. For instance, Elizabeth states that "only the deepest love will induce me into matrimony" and that Jane and Bingley should have some time to get to know each other before being rushed into marriage. To Elizabeth, mutual love and respect are essential for a marriage to succeed.

As for book Darcy, when Caroline catches him admiring Elizabeth and asks if he will marry her right away, he jokingly rebuffs her for making that assumption: "A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy." Significantly, he mentions love needing to come before marriage, hinting that he shares the same belief about respect (admiration) and love being necessary for a good marriage. In fact, a big reason he separated Jane from Bingley was because he feared that Jane did not love Bingley in return. In short, love in marriage is just as important to Darcy as it is to Elizabeth.

Conclusion:

Bride and Prejudice, as shown by the title, focuses heavily on the theme of marriage and uses the culture clash between India and the West to emphasize the importance of first impressions in our treatment of others.

Even if you aren't into Pride and Prejudice, the movie is worth watching for the Bollywood dance sequences. I also liked the songs because they effectively developed the marriage theme.

The characters are mostly true to the book, except for Darcy, who isn't proud enough and is quick to reform his character.

Last but not least, the real villains of the story were imperialism and ethnocentrism.

Tags: @thatvermilionflycatcher @appleinducedsleep @princesssarisa

#bride and prejudice #aishwarya rai #martin henderson #bollywood #pride and prejudice #jane austen #mr darcy #elizabeth bennet #elizabeth x darcy #book adaptation #adaptation

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anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

S4 01 | The Dark Moon

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE | KO-FI

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 3956

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, poison, death, seizures, dead bodies, swearing (always), etc.

A/N: Wow. This is the 4th Season already?! I noticed while writing this entire chapter this morning that we were starting season 4. This is crazy. Enjoy and I didn’t have time to proofread!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

I glanced around, sighing, not knowing what to expect and seeing a different scenario from the one that I was used to seeing every day. There was a lot of people in the street, wandering through street markets, trying to get the best deal.

"This doesn't seem so bad." My boyfriend rubbed his hands together.

"It's not the town, it's the plan." Lydia rolled her eyes as I chuckled. "Stiles. This could be the stupidest plan we've ever come up with. You're aware of that, right?"

"I'm aware it's not our best." His voice lowered.

"We are going to die." The three of us started walking.

"Are you saying that as a Banshee or you're just being pessimistic?"

"I'm saying it as a person who doesn't wanna die."

"Okay." Stiles's tiny gesture made my chest pound like crazy. He had grabbed my hand, scared I would get lost as there were many people. "Would you just mind restricting any talk of death to actual Banshee predictions?"

"This plan is stupid and we're going to die," Lydia said in a cheerful tone, attempting to make the hazel-eyed boy happy.

"Oh, thank you." He smirked.

It was night when we arrived at a building. The door was being watched by two men. They both smiled at us, especially eyeing Lydia and me, which made us feel a little bit uncomfortable.

"Estamos aquí para la fiesta." I murmured to them, letting them know that we were there for the party taking place inside the building.

One of them smirked, shaking their head as if to let us know that we weren't invited to go inside. I shifted my gaze to Stiles, who was searching for something inside one of the pockets of his trousers. As soon as he found what he wanted, he lifted it. A black card. And even though it seemed like just an item without much meaning, one of the men standing in front of us stopped smiling.

Stiles noticed that there was a camera just above them, lifting the card so whoever was behind it could see the object. Automatically, the door opened and the men had nothing more to do than let us go inside.

When the door closed behind us, we sighed, worried about what we could find. There was a small corridor, walls were of an intense red that was making my headache. And it seemed like the door in front of us and the walls embracing us shook.

As Stiles opened the door, we were hit with loud music, colourful lights and the smell of alcohol and sweat. Bodies ground against each other, following the compass of the music.

Stiles clutched my hand harder as his other hand rested on Lydia's arm. He didn't want us to get lost in the crowd. We ended up in front of the bar, where three drinks were placed in front of us even though we haven't ordered anything. I furrowed my eyebrows as Stiles sought money inside his pocket.

I felt a hand gripping my shoulder, and jerking around I was met with a man. "No. On the house." He offered us an insincere smile. "Most American teenagers don't cross the border to refuse a drink."

"We didn't come to drink." Lydia clarified, dropping what seemed like a bullet with a skull on it inside the drink.

Of course, we were taken out of the party, to the insides of the building where everything was dark and where now, a woman stood before us. "Severo hates this music. Me? I've always loved the music of youth." We were sitting in front of her, while there were men all around the room, keeping an eye on us. "This kind, especially. It has a savage energy."

"We're here for Derek Hale." I was the first one to speak aloud.

"Is that so?"

"We know you have him. We've heard you can be bought." Lydia was the one continuing while Stiles placed money on top of the table with a loud thump.

"It's 50,000 for Derek."

"Now, where does a teenage boy get money like this? Japanese mafia?" A woman behind us loaded her gun, making Lydia and I jump in our seats as a man did the same next to Stiles. "Not smart to come alone."

"What makes you think we came alone?" The boy next to me smirked, and I couldn't help but take the grin out of my face. Malia, Kira and Scott had come with us.

"You brought a wolf into my home?" She got up from her chair.

It was my turn to smirk. "No, of course not. How could we do that?" She seemed to relax, but only for a couple of seconds due to my following words. "We brought an Alpha."

"My friends..." She sighed as she turned around. "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"

"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," Lydia said in a robotic tone.

"But do you know its meaning?"

"Some people say it's a time of reflection. Or grief." I intervened.

She glanced at me. "Grief and loss, mija. I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."

"'Cause, we don't like to lose."

One of the men next to Araya stopped us from continuing talking as he started speaking to someone on the other line of the walkie talkie. I couldn't help but have a tiny smile on my face when I heard the voice of my brother through it. "Stiles. Take 10 off the table."

As the button-nose boy did what my brother had asked for, I decided to speak up. "Maybe you should just take the deal." Lydia nodded her head, smiling at the woman in a sickeningly way.

"While I'm keen to follow the warning of a Banshee," She glanced at me. "And of course, the one of a Siren. I'm going to have to decline."

"Aaaa... Come on. Just give us Derek. You don't want him anyway. Haven't you noticed what a downer he is? No sense of humour, poor conversationalist." I tried to maintain a serious expression as Stiles's continued speaking. "Just come on, take the money."

Araya grabbed the walkie talkie once again. "Severo? Show them how the Calaveras negotiate." When Araya left the room, the three of us were manhandled by the men. And I wasn't a Banshee, but even I could feel that Scott, Kira and Malia were in great danger right now.

Thinking back, we ended up here because Scott had gone to Derek's lot, just to find that he wasn't there. He had found bullets, and sending a picture to Deaton, he had learnt that it was the mark of a family of hunters based out of Mexico. The Calaveras.

Lydia said that he wasn't sure he was dead, but she also wasn't sure if he was alive, which was perturbing.

"He is awake!" Kira informed us as Stiles and I got closer to my brother, who was lying down on the floor of a dirty and abandoned bathroom, where we have been taken. "Guys, he's awake."

"Scott, you okay?"

"Yeah." He tried to get up. "They don't have him. They don't have Derek."

"We know." I sighed, offering him a smile that he sent back, trying to let me know that he was alright. "But right now, they've got Lydia."

"Lydia? What do they want with Lydia?" He asked rapidly.

"We always have the same question and it is always answered the same way," I spoke as everyone glanced at me. "The power of a Banshee."

My brother rapidly got up from the floor, trying to open the door with his bare hands, which wasn't working.

"We already looked for a way out. I think a lot of people have." I furrowed my eyebrows as Kira talked, not sure of what she meant until I saw the marks on the walls. Marks of people who desperately tried to escape, scratching the walls with all of their strength.

Malia was leaning against a column. "I say when that door opens again, we take out whoever's standing in the way and run for it."

"What about Lydia?" Kira asked, and I sighed, knowing Malia's next words.

"What about her?"

"We're not leaving without her."

"Why not?"

Stiles shook his head, getting closer to her. "Because we don't leave without people. Remember, we talked about this? Rules of the wild kingdom don't apply to friends."

"Is that what you would do as a coyote, leave her for dead?"

"If she was weak and injured, yeah. If hunting had been bad that season, I would eat her. Then I'd leave."

"Mmm. Believe it or not, that's progress." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Stiles and I've been trying to explain everything to her."

"All right, guys, we're not dead yet." My brother interrupted. "And that means Araya wants something."

Kira glanced at the dark-haired boy standing by her side. "But if the Calaveras don't know where Derek is, that means they didn't take him from the loft. Right?"

"Maybe he left on his own." Stiles completed.

Scott glanced at the floor. "Maybe someone else got to him."

We couldn't continue with our theories as the door abruptly opened, showing three men that quickly walked to us. However, we were soon met with darkness.

When I opened my eyes, my head was aching and everything around me seemed to move in circles. My throat was dry as if I haven't drink anything in days. I gradually noticed that I was tied to a chair and that my brother was tied to another one, right next to me.

The door of the room where we were now opened, showing Araya with another man and Lydia. "Oh, God," Lydia murmured as she saw us.

"Let her go. Look... you've got me. Just let the others go." My brother begged as Araya smirked. Her gaze moved to me. My brother followed her gaze, and it seemed like he had noticed from the first time that they had taken me too. "Why did you bring her?"

Lydia was chained to another chair as Kira came inside the room, also chained while a man grabbed her. What was going on? "So, let me explain what's about to happen." The man grabbing Kira spoke. "This one, the fox, has an immunity to electricity. So she's going to turn the dial on the Alpha. If she doesn't, I turn the dial on the Banshee and the Siren."

"No. I'm not doing this." Kira tried to resist.

"I see. Are you sure? One of your friends has the power to heal. The other? Not so much." Severo smirked. "And the other one might end up dying." Who?

"What are you doing?" Scott glanced at the old woman. "Is this a game to you?"

"This is a test, lobito. Let's see if you pass. We're going to ask some questions. You answer them, nobody gets hurt." She walked around us, but I had to close my eyes and lean my head down as everything continued moving around me. "You don't answer, we turn on the dial."

When I looked up again, my brother was looking at the fox girl. "Do what they say. Okay. Whatever they want. I can take it."

"So... We don't know where Derek is. We want to find him as well. You know who took him."

"What?" My brother asked her. "How would I know that?"

"That doesn't sound like an answer to me."

"We don't know." Lydia intervened. "Why do you think we came here?"

"Kira, turn the dial." The woman ordered, but Kira shook her head. "Should we turn the dial on Lydia instead?"

My brother quickly spoke up. "No, no! Do it, Kira. Do it."

"Let's start at one." As soon as she said that, my brother grunted, his hands gripping the chair he was sitting on, trying not to scream in pain. "Tell me! Who actually has Derek? Who had a reason, a vendetta particular to the Hales?"

My brother continued panting. "I said I don't know."

"Oh, you don't know because you haven't figured it out yet. So think! Who could've taken him?" They turned the pain even stronger. "Who had the power? The power of a shapeshifter?"

"I-I don't know."

"Oh! Someone who could have turned without you knowing. Turned, but not by a bite!"

"I don't know!" He screamed.

"Y-you.." My voice was a mere whisper, but swallowing I was able to scream. "You are going to kill him!" There were tears in my eyes. "You are going to kill him! Stop!"

Araya laughed, shaking her head. "No, mi amor." She smirked. "You will die first." I furrowed my eyebrows, feeling the temperature in the room dropping. I was cold. "Something told me lobito right here was going to be hard to peel." Her gaze shifted to my brother. "Your beautiful sister has poison running through her blood." My brother quickly glanced at me. "The longer it stays in her system, the more difficult to take it out. She can end up having seizures." I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, feeling dizzier than before. "Say the name, Scott."

"Kate." What? Kate Argent?

"Okay," I heard Araya's voice. "Stop the machine." Severo did as he was told as another two men walked to Scott and Lydia, freeing them. My brother quickly walked to me, extending his hands to touch me. However, my body started shaking and I couldn't make it stop. "Severo bring the shot."

The door of the room opened again, this time two men were grabbing Stiles and Malia. Stiles's eyes widened as he saw me shaking while being tied to a chair. Before he could step forward, the man grabbing him stopped his movements.

"Don't dare any of you to touch her now." Araya's strong voice resonated through the room. Severo walked to me, stabbing the side of my neck with the syringe. I could feel the liquid running down my blood. Severo unleashed me, lying me down on the freezing ground as my body continued shaking.

"W-What did you do to her?? You old troll." I wanted to smirk at Stiles's use of vocabulary, but I was too busy being scared of the constant shaking of my body.

"She will be alright," Araya replied. "She has more water in her body than a human. The liquid we injected plus the water will do a quick job in removing the poison."

"N-nice." I tried to sound sarcastic.

"Fever might be a side effect of the poison, but you will be alright."

I watched as my brother talked to Araya while I was leaning against Roscoe with the others. Stiles was constantly asking me if I was alright. I felt a little weak, but my temperature was back to normal.

Scott finally walked to us. "So what now?" My boyfriend asked.

He shrugged. "She thinks she knows where we can find Derek."

"She gonna tell us where?" Malia asked while she leaned her head against my shoulder. My hand went up to play with her hair.

"Uh, actually, she's giving us a guide."

Stiles's face transformed into confusion, but it went away as soon as a big motorbike stopped in front of us. "You know her?" Stiles asked my brother.

As soon as the person took their helmet off, we saw a beautiful black woman whose neck seemed to be scarred. "Braeden."

"Who's Braeden?"

"She's a mercenary," Lydia added.

"Right now, I'm the only one who's gonna take you to la iglesia."

"The Church?" I questioned. "What's The Church?"

"It's not a place you'll find God," I smirked, liking her way of talking.

Getting inside the jeep, we followed her as she took us to la iglesia.

There was a comfortable silence inside Roscoe. The three girls were sitting behind as I sat on the front between my boyfriend and my brother. "Okay, I'll ask." Malia was the one interrupting the silence. "Who's Kate Argent?"

Kira put her hand up. "Uh, I'd like to know, too."

"Well, we were at her funeral. So, I'd like to know how she got out of a casket that was buried six feet underground." I chuckled, nodding my head that was resting on Stiles's shoulder as he drove.

"She was never in it." I glanced at my brother.

"She was Allison's aunt," Lydia spoke, and I could feel the pain in her voice. The pain of someone who recently lost her best friend. WAnd a total sociopath."

"You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to." Kira whispered while glancing at the back of my brother's head.

"Um, yes, he does." I was going to scold Malia as if she was a curious child that didn't know when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah, she's right. You guys should know. You need to know."

"All right." Stiles sighed. "Kate was the one who set the fire that killed most of Derek's family."

"Some of them survived, like Cora, and Peter." Scott added.

"A very angry Peter," Lydia appended.

"Yeah, he's the one who bit and turned me." My brother sighed.

"And the one who scratched me." I added.

"And the one who finally caught up to Kate and killed her." Lydia explained.

"And we saw her buried." Stiles and I replied at the same time. He took his eyes off the road for two seconds to place a kiss on my forehead and ask once again, if I was feeling alright.

"No." Scott shook his head. "We saw a casket, remember? She wasn't in it. The Calaveras heard that Kate had been killed by an Alpha's claws. They wanted to make sure she was really dead. Her body was healing. More and more, as she got closer to a full moon. She was coming back. So they switched out the bodies. If a hunter is bit, they have to take their own life before they change. The Calaveras, they treat the code like law. They make it their responsibility to enforce it."

"Good for her." The were coyote intervened. "I wouldn't do it either."

"Would you kill half a dozen people to get out? Because that's what she did."

Kira sighed, placing her hand on my brother's shoulder. "So Kate's a werewolf now?"

"I don't know. You know, there's a saying, sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are." I nodded along with my brother's words, remembering Jackson Whittemore. What was of him now?

"What kind of shape is sociopathic bitch?" As soon as the Martin girl spoke, the car was hit by something, making Stiles stop driving as we all got startled. We all got out of the car as Braeden got off her bike to ask what had happened.

"I don't know. It felt like we hit something." Stiles and Scott were examining Roscoe.

"Scott, we need to get there by night. It's too dangerous otherwise."

My brother sighed. "Go." Stiles made a gesture with his hands, trying to let him know that it was okay for him to leave with Braeden.

"Not without you."

"Dude, someone needs to find Derek. We'll figure something out. We always do. Just go."

I walked to my brother, kissing his cheek and embracing him. "Be careful, okay?" He nodded his head, wishing the same for me and sharing a look with Stiles. A look pleading him to take care of me.

Before he walked to the bike, he was stopped by the fox girl. "Scott... I can't think of anything else to say except for be careful. And...and I know 'Be careful' sounds kind of lame and I'm totally sure the second you're gone I'm gonna think of something much better, but I..."

"Uh, 'Be careful' works for me." I smiled as they embraced each other.

I sighed. "They are so cute," I whispered while wandering close to Stiles as his hands rubbed Roscoe's side, making sure that there wasn't any scratch.

"We are cuter." He replied while biting his lower lip and inspecting his jeep. I laughed and nodded my head and watching my brother disappear with Braeden.

"Guys," Malia grunted. Therefore, I turned around to look at her. "I don't think we hit something. I think something hit us." She was holding up what seemed like giant teeth or claw. I couldn't differentiate them, to be honest.

I sighed, leaning against the jeep as I examined my boyfriend inspecting the hood of his car. A screwdriver in his mouth. "Stiles, baby. Don't hate me. I know you love Roscoe but maybe we should just walk." He glanced at me with wide eyes. "It's getting colder and darker." I made a gesture to the girls as they rubbed their arms.

"Hey, I will never abandon this jeep. You understand me? Ever. Ever. Ever."

Malia glanced around. "Work faster, Stiles." She paused as her eyes continued examining the whereabouts. "There's something out here with us." I gulped.

However, night had fallen upon us and Roscoe wasn't working. Malia continued in front of us, glancing around, prepared to attack whatever was observing us. Kira had grabbed her sword while Lydia and I tried to help my stressed boyfriend. "Lydia, could you please hold the light still for a second? It's really hard to see anything if you keep shaking it like that."

Lydia scoffed. "I'm shaking it like this because we're in the middle of nowhere with your broken down jeep and we're being attacked by yet another razor-clawed monster. And I'm terrified."

"Well, just be slightly less terrified." He answered back. "You hold this." He handed me a big metal piece.

"What's this?" I inspected it.

"I don't know. I'm hoping it's not important."

"Oh god." I sighed. Things got worse as the next thing that happened was Malia running towards somewhere or something. "Malia!" I yelled. Kira ran after her while Lydia told Stiles to continue fixing the jeep.

"You... you please don't do that ever again!" Stiles scolded Malia as he drove. The jeep was finally fixed or so we were hoping.

"Do what?" She innocently asked.

"I... I thought you just took off. I thought you were running."

"I was running."

"No, I mean, like, I thought you were leaving."

Malia pouted, looking between Stiles and me. "I wouldn't leave without you guys." We glanced at her. "I would never leave without you two. Them I would leave."

"Yeah. Uh, it's progress." Stiles sighed. "I feel like the dad of a teenager girl." I nodded my head. Stiles and I had taken the paper of teaching Malia what she shouldn't do. The actions she must separate between a human and a were coyote.

"Don't do it again, okay?" I begged. "You scared us." She apologized. "And that doesn't look good."

"It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Kira looked worried as the rest of us. "It looks deep."

"I can feel it healing." I sighed in relief.

"You didn't see anything?" The Martin girl asked.

"Barely. It had a strong scent, though."

"Like what?" I asked while offering her water from my bottle.

She smiled at me as if she was a little puppy, grabbing the plastic bottle. "Like death."

When we finally arrived at the place where Scott and Braeden where we noticed that they were grabbing a young boy. Malia asked if that was Derek, to which Stiles replied 'Sort of'. That young boy was Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was a teenager once again.

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