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yourstardarling · 10 months ago

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Lilith Analysis

(Lady Lilith, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti)

In my perspective, Lilith symbolizes the female intuition which is often vilified in our patriarchal society. She questions the status quo, defying societal norms and forges her own path for how she lives her life. In some interpretations, Lilith is depicted as the serpent in the garden, tempting Eve with the apple as revenge for her expulsion after refusing to submit to Adam. Targeting Eve instead of Adam, shows how Lilith understands the curious nature within women to want to know more and what ifs. It is the same curiosity that made Pandora open the box releasing malicious spirits into the world.

The energy of Lilith is a vengeful one as she sought revenge against God for her banishment out of the garden. In her expulsion, she was stated to steal babies and harm innocent lives, unsympathetic to anyone in her way. So within our charts, Lilith shows where we've experienced profound shame and societal rejection. It is where we are often demonized for refusing to yield to others' expectations. If we don't heal this pain it often becomes a form of self-destruction, fueling a need to gain revenge, harming anyone in our path. This part of our chart is usually suppressed, relegated to the shadows, but integration of this energy is crucial. Mainly because keeping our shame underneath the surface will often cause self-sabotage within the house Lillith is in. Finding the underlying root of the problem will often lead to reclaiming of your power, making Lilith be an energy of magnetization and authority. Neglection will only exacerbate internal conflict.

Lilith in the 1st:In the first house, these individuals are the walking embodiments of Lilith. They are often faced with deep-seated feelings of shame regarding their sexuality and physical appearance. Many have endured the pain of bullying in their youth, which has made them feel shunned out from society. This shame becomes a heavy burden that feels as if it is a part of them, complicating efforts to express their true self openly. Consequently, a portion of their identity remains veiled, guarded against potential judgment or rejection from others. Yet, beneath this veil within their unconscious, lies a potent magnetism. A profound sense of sexuality that others find rather attractive or unsettling. They find themselves both desired and feared. But honestly like Britney said it’s because, "All of the boys and all of the girls want to if you seek Amy." Lilith's influence in this house encourages independence and self-assertion. It teaches the importance of standing firm in the face of societal pressures and refusing to be demonized for your own authenticity. However, yielding to criticism and seeking external validation risks facing internal conflicts. A constant battle against yourself. That is why confronting the shadow aspects of one's personality should be practiced, as it offers a pathway to self-discovery and empowerment. When you are able to show resilience and unwavering faith in yourself, you're able to garner admiration and respect from those around you. The ability to transmute pain into productive actions serves as a magnetic force, attracting allies and opportunities alike. Learning to embrace your inner sexual energy is imperative, as it is something that cannot be suppressed. Unfortunately, this embracement may invite unwanted attention, leaving you vulnerable to exploitation and trauma. Overall, the role of Lilith in the first house is one of self-acceptance and defiance against societal norms. It's a journey marked by challenges, but also by profound personal growth and authenticity.

Lilith in the 2nd: In the house of personal gains, Lilith has felt great shame surrounding her personal values. Individuals with this placement have a hard time surrounding their self worth and physical assets. Possessive tendencies lie beneath the surface, as a consequence from being betrayed in the past. People may have taken advantage of them for their material value and stolen from them. Financial wounds run deep making them unable to properly trust themselves with money. Might find themselves in cycles of reckless spending, prioritizing instant gratification over long term investments. The types go on a shopping spree and then feel guilty for indulging materialistically.These people can either be overindulgent or extremely picky when it comes to what they spend. There is an inherent value of pleasure and spending resources on things that make you feel good.The sign Lilith is in will give you an idea on what you unwarily spend money on and guide your financial decisions. Implementing a budget plan can be very beneficial in uncovering and healing shame surrounding your spending habits. It will help you regulate your spending. Underlying shadow challenges when it comes to self worth is another aspect of this placement. Leading to having doubts about deservingness and attaining success. Lilith in the 2nd, prompts a reevaluation of your values. Rather than being overly picky, you're encouraged to be intentional in your pursuits. Learn to align your investments with your deepest values and aspirations. Family dynamics may also contribute to your relationship with money, with the possibility of past generations engaging in questionable financial practices. Additionally, Lilith's immature aspects may tempt individuals to resort to unethical means of acquiring wealth, such as engaging in sex work or participating in illicit activities. However, succumbing to these temptations risks exploiting others and ultimately perpetuating cycles of harm. In navigating the influence of Lilith in the 2nd house, you are urged to exercise caution and integrity in financial dealings. By confronting shadows and cultivating a sense of self-worth, they can transcend shame and reclaim power over their financial well-being.

Lilith in the 3rd: When Lilith is in the third house of youth and mental stimulation, these individuals have deep shame within their speech and communication. Oftentimes they were demonized as a child, facing constant scrutiny about their childish behavior. Parental guardians made them seem like they were to blame for the smallest issues that occurred. In school they may have felt shunned out from their peers, becoming the target of bullying and ridicule. This ridicule can even come from their teachers that overly criticized them for not being the perfect student, leading them to feel like they were a bad kid. Might indicate having a speech impediment, having a hard time communicating how you feel and issues surrounding being able to read. Your intelligence was significantly downplayed from the earlier years of school which made you believe you were dumb. For this reason, you may prefer being quiet and only speaking when you are needed to, often avoiding starting conversation. To others you may seem standoffish when you speak, but instead it can be anxiety to say what you really want because of public reaction. This Lilith wound is one centered around your inner child and taking back power over your mind. Intrusive thoughts of feeling less than can often be an underlying trigger, but you must recognize that these voices in your head are not your own. It is programming from the ridicule you received as a kid. Mindfulness and meditation practices can help regulate the outside input that comes in your head. You're a very intellectually capable individual that often understands knowledge about topics considered unconventional by society. Don’t be ashamed of what you know and use it to teach other people information you are passionate about.

Lilith in the 4th: Within the house of home and heritage, Lilith has wrested with feeling of shame for her family background. These individuals can often grow up feeling sexually repressed by their family. Criticism for what they were and being called a slut for wanting to express themselves. This placement reminds me of Meg from Family Guy, and how she is consistently made the butt of all ridicule by her family. As you went through puberty, you could've felt uncomfortable being objectified by family members. Some could've faced even faced exploitation by their own family. There is a strange focus on purity within the household and committing towards conservative ideals of presenting yourself. From their point of view, you may be seen as someone who is promiscuous and disobeying traditional values. You might find it hard to feel at home within yourself because of these past afflictions. This can even lead to you feeling ashamed about your emotional responses, often viewing them as evil instead of necessary feelings. Aside from sexuality, this Lilith placement also indicates having shame regarding your origin. There might have been concealed truths about your birth, unraveling as you mature. Might have felt like your family were strangers and you did not belong with them. Issues with the mother figure can be highlighted by this placement. You don't get along well and could feel a sense of cruelty from her. A shadow side to you is kept veiled from your family, which makes you feel like an outsider by them. You may have a reputation of being the rebellious cousin. They may harbor outdated ideologies such as racism, homophobia and xenophobia, that makes you more ashamed of them. The home you grew up in may have been the cause of this shame too, because of its design or infestation issues. Overall, stepping away from your family's point of view of the world is a big factor with this Lilith placement. You cannot allow their lives to dictate who you are meant to be. Learning to nurture yourself and finding your own community is an essential part of your journey. As time pass, you may discover yourself becoming a space for other people to confide in about their personal issues. A testament to Lilith making a home for herself outside the boundaries of Eden.

Lilith in the 5th: In the fifth house, individuals have grappled with profound shame surrounding the way they experience pleasure within their lives. Their childhood may have been faced with restrictions on the ways they could have fun, such as engaging in hobbies solely to appease their parents rather than for personal enjoyment. Activities you found enjoyment in, felt like you needed to keep hidden away from other people in order to not get ridiculed. There are plenty of hobbies you enjoy that others will find unorthodox to have. For example, going to shooting ranges, participating in drag shows, taking part in the circus or cosplaying your favorite characters. When it comes to your talents, you might face envy from others because they want the attributes that you have. May face hate in your extracurricular activities and being outcasted by team members. In your own eyes, your often unsure about your talents and feel like you're not good enough in your practice. Additionally, there is also shame regarding sexual pleasure. You might find it fun to explore, but some experiences make it unsettling for you to enjoy. There may be a need to keep your sex life a secret from other people. However, sex positivity can be a notable aspect of this placement though, not having much conservative notions in your sexual experiences. When it comes to children, you might feel some shame for not wanting to have kids and face scrutiny from others for this stance. You can even feel like you hate the thought of children and not wanting them around you. If you do end up having kids, they can exhibit Lilith quality traits of rebellion and unorthodox behavior. There is definitely a shadow side to how you gain pleasure with this placement, indulging in self destructive behaviors and selling yourself away for fun. You must learn to tame that primal urge within you when you are having a great time. Especially as this can lead to addictions to pleasure, such as having a gambling, drug abuse and being overly sexual. Learn to set boundaries when you're having fun.

Lilith In the 6th: In the house of service, Lilith plays a commanding role within her work space. This placement reminds me of The Devil wears Prada, where Miranda was seen as a formidable figure by her colleagues. Similarly, coworkers may harbor similar feelings toward you, casting you as assertive & harsh. You may face a lot of scrutiny in the workplace and could even work in an environment where there's a prevalence of discrimination. Workplace harassment can occur here as well, oftentimes facing oversexualization. Navigating and accepting your shadow persona in the workplace becomes essential. As long as you come there to do your job, that’s all that matters. Just try not to lash out at your colleagues because of misconception and other issues. There may be a big rumor that you are lazy for not doing as much as everyone else. However, you're the type of person that only comes and does the work that is necessary, not overworking themselves as everyone else. On the flip side, you can be hyper focused on work and do a lot more in your day that others don’t really see. This can take a toll on your health and work stress can be a big indication of this placement. Speaking of health, you might have a terrible relationship with health officials. Health experts in the past might have treated you poorly and even faced a misdiagnosis. Your relationship with health overall is something you can feel intense emotions around. A health condition could make you feel like you don’t have the same capabilities as other people. Might struggle with digestion and eating food to nourish yourself. There is a lot of necessary shadow work to uncover within your habits and daily routines with this placement. Learn to not be so hard on yourself, making time to properly maintain your physical needs.Health is wealth after all.

Lilith In the 7th: When Lilith lies in the house of partnerships, there is often shame surrounding the close connections these people have. They often easily attract people with Lilith energy in their lives, such as rebellion, ostracization and outcasts. You're often able to see the version of others that they keep hidden underneath. For some reason, people can feel like they can trust you with their problems and you make space to not judge them. Something about you just allows people to feel easily able to open up their shame to you. It might be because there is a part of you that has felt the same shame of being shunned out by other people. In your love life, there could be a tendency to feel outcasted by your partners which leads to having a warped perception of yourself. Partners often can make you feel like you are too much and incapable of being loved. May find it hard to feel their needs being met in their personal relationships. Here lilith indicates issues of being taken advantage of by other people and personal power being exploited. Aggressive aspects can also show facing abuse, which can make these individuals pretty guarded when meeting others. You could feel the need to be in control and have a dominant role in your love life. However, self-destructive tendencies may spur from not getting what you want out of a partner and lead you sabotaging your connections. You can often pursue relationships you know are unhealthy for you. There’s a tendency to want people that bring out an unhinged version of yourself, becoming a whole different person with a partner. Shadow work needs to be done as to why you chase these toxic connections, which sometimes is rooted from the way you viewed the partnership of your parents.

Lilith in the 8th: In the house of death and loss, Lilith is put to face the extremes. Each time they are in a transitional phase in their lives, they get kicked out of their paradise. These individuals understand the darker sides of life and are somewhat good at navigating their shadow. Shadow side can often take things to the extreme when they are out of control. Really good at understanding the taboo and being okay with things that are scarier for other people. A necessary need to make peace with inner demons and resolving past psychological conflicts. While they are able to easily exude a seductive persona, sex can be a harsh topic for them to feel comfortable with. Losing their virginity might have been a monumental experience that shifted the way they act in their lives. There is a need to work on resolving issues with sex and not being afraid of it . Also, you might be into some fetishes that you feel the need to keep hidden from other people. Hiding is a big coping mechanism for them, whenever they feel like the world rejects them, they bury themselves down in shadows to not be seen. A distinct relationship with death, some hold huge guilt for being unphased by death, while others worry about their own deaths. If a family member had died, you might feel guilty for not being sad or crying at the funeral. These people can mourn their innocence a lot, thinking of a time they were untouched by the world around them. During transitional phases of your life, you could be vilified and demonized for acting differently. Might have had a dark aesthetic or emo phase during your teen years. Change can be a scary thing for you and you could harbor strong resistance towards new possibilities. This mainly comes from the scrutiny you’ve felt by other people. Learn to embrace the taboo and understand change will only allow you to reclaim your power.

Lilith in the 9th: These individuals hold a complex relationship with religion and belief systems. Growing up, they likely experienced a religious environment that instilled fear and submission to authority. It's possible they had overly religious parents who prioritized adherence to faith, rather than showing genuine love and understanding for their children. As you mature, there's a tendency to reject traditional systems of beliefs for more esoteric philosophies, helping you find empowerment through alternative spiritual paths. Although shifting your beliefs will allow you to have a sense of freedom, remnants of past religious trauma still linger in your mind. Guilt for what you believe in is a big focus for this placement. They often find themselves at odds with mainstream perspectives, feeling a sense of alienation and struggling to fit in. There's a tendency to doubt their intelligence and the information they know. This struggle extends to academic pursuits as well, where they may feel out of place and struggle to connect with their peers. Moving away from their area of upbringing can be liberating, allowing them to explore their shadow aspects and embrace their darker side through travel and adventure. In doing so, they may discover a newfound magnetism and allure, attracting others to their path towards self-discovery.

Lilith in the 10th: In the house of public career, Lilith exerts a strong influence on one's outward image and persona. When in public settings, you often see people being easily magnetized towards you. If Lilith is conjunct the Midheaven (MC), it can signify experiences of unwanted attention, including catcalling. There's a deep-seated fear of being seen, stemming from the difference between your public persona and true self-image. Overexposure to the public eye can lead to discomfort, particularly in career fields where others seem to dominate or overshadow you. There is a natural ability to exude sensuality that others find intriguing. They may develop a reputation for sensuality and allure, which can intimidate others, particularly men, due to the inherent power they radiate. Despite the fantasization, they may resent the objectification and sexualization. In professional settings their bosses may even attempt to take advantage of them. This placement can also indicate stage fright and social anxiety, causing them to prefer the sidelines rather than the spotlight. An unbalanced version of this placement would be sabotaging yourself when it comes to your career. Promoting bad behavior so that you can gain the upper advantage in situations. It's crucial for them to be vigilant against exploitation by authority figures and to properly navigate professional relationships and contracts. Despite potential misconceptions about their character, individuals with this placement must embrace their authenticity and prioritize their own career aspirations over societal expectations. Your that b*tch for real, and you cannot allow the public opinion of you to dictate who you are. Also, Lilith in the 10th house may signify a challenging relationship with their father, involving absence, mistreatment, or attempts at control. This further fuels aspirations to become a successful person, in order to prove their farther wrong. Embracing their power and authenticity is important for success and fulfillment in the professional world.

Lilith in the 11th: Friendships are never easy with Lilith in the 11th. Despite outward display of support, these individuals frequently encounter betrayal from those they consider close allies, discovering that supposed friends harbor secret animosity and ulterior motives towards them. Friends could make jokes about insecurities you have, while accusing you of being soft for finding offence. Your secrets are not the safest within your social networks, they are like blind items ready to spill all the tea about your personal life. This atmosphere of distrust can lead to a cautious approach to forming friendships, resulting in a preference for family and romantic relationships over the unpredictability of friendships. Despite these challenges, individuals with this placement often gravitate towards unconventional or marginalized groups of people. Finding companionship in the outcasts who defy societal norms. They may become strong advocates for the rights and liberation of marginalized groups, focusing on the need for women's rights and the empowerment of societal underdogs. So while friendships may be met with much difficulty, these individuals create meaningful connections with fellow non-conformists in society. Finding solidarity in their shared struggles, leading to finding community outside of Eden.

Lilith in the 12th: Individuals with Lilith in the 12th house tend to keep Lilith's energy to the depths of their subconscious mind. They are often unaware of its magnetic, rebellious, and sexually charged nature. May doubt their own sexuality and seductive capabilities, feeling overshadowed by others charm. However, when in solitude, Lilith emerges to confront them about their inner shadows and demons. This often leads to solitary battles with their deepest fears and insecurities. Sleep issues are common with this placement, as they may struggle to maintain a stable sleep routine. May prefer the quiet solitude of the night for introspection and self-discovery. In their dreams, they often confront scenarios designed to evoke feelings of inadequacy and shame, forcing them to confront their inner vulnerabilities. They can be drawn towards dream working, meditation, shifting and exploring unique ways to access their subconscious mind. By using the arts, they can transmute fears and underlying issues in their mind to a reservoir of creativity. You can often see their shadow portrayed boldly in their art. Also, these individuals are often empathetic and hold nonjudgmental view towards the shadows of other people. Overall, through uncovering their darkness, Lilith in the 12th house can lead to spiritual growth and artistic development when integrated unapologetically.

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Remember to look at the aspects to Lilith in your chart. Since it is an astrological point & asteroid, it doesn't hold as much significance compared to the planets. So aspects allow you to know how much of this energy can be brought up to the surface. Also, this reading is for all versions of Lilith in the chart.

-your Star Darling

(Portrait of Simonetta Vespucci, by Piero Di Cosimo)

#astro community #lilith #lilith astrology #astrology observations #astrology #black moon lilith #lilith in the houses

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s-soulwriter · 1 year ago

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Creative misfortunes for characters

Identity Crisis: Have your character lose their memory, forcing them to rediscover their true self and past.

Betrayal by a Loved One: A close friend or family member betrays the character's trust, leading to emotional turmoil and inner conflict.

Physical Transformation: Give your character a physical ailment or transformation that they must come to terms with, such as sudden blindness, a debilitating illness, or turning into a different species.

Unrequited Love: Make your character fall deeply in love with someone who doesn't reciprocate their feelings, causing heartache and a quest for self-discovery.

Financial Ruin: Strip your character of their wealth and privilege, forcing them to adapt to a life of poverty and face the harsh realities of the world.

False Accusation: Have your character falsely accused of a crime they didn't commit, leading to a desperate quest to clear their name.

Natural Disaster: Place your character in the path of a devastating natural disaster, such as a hurricane, earthquake, or tsunami, and force them to survive and rebuild.

Loss of a Sense: Take away one of your character's senses (e.g., sight, hearing, taste) and explore how they adapt and cope with this profound change.

Forced Isolation: Trap your character in a remote location, like a deserted island, and make them confront their inner demons while struggling to survive.

Haunted Past: Reveal a dark secret from your character's past that comes back to haunt them, threatening their relationships and well-being.

Time Travel Consequences: Send your character back in time, but make them inadvertently change a crucial event in history, leading to unintended consequences in the present.

Psychological Breakdown: Push your character to the brink of a mental breakdown, exploring the complexities of their psyche and their journey towards recovery.

Unwanted Prophecy: Have your character be the subject of a prophecy they want no part of, as it places them in grave danger or disrupts their life.

Loss of a Loved One: Kill off a beloved character or make your protagonist witness the death of someone close to them, igniting a quest for revenge or justice.

Incurable Curse or Disease: Curse your character with an incurable ailment or supernatural curse, and follow their journey to find a cure or accept their fate.

Sudden Disappearance: Make a character disappear mysteriously, leaving the others to search for them and uncover the truth.

Betrayal of Morals: Force your character into a situation where they must compromise their ethical values for a greater cause, leading to moral dilemmas and internal conflict.

Loss of a Precious Object: Have your character lose a cherished possession or artifact that holds sentimental or magical significance, setting them on a quest to recover it.

Political Intrigue: Place your character in a position of power or influence, then subject them to political intrigue, manipulation, and power struggles.

Existential Crisis: Make your character question the meaning of life, their purpose, and their place in the universe, leading to a philosophical journey of self-discovery.

Remember that misfortunes should serve a purpose in your story, driving character growth, plot development, and thematic exploration.

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p0orbaby · 9 months ago

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Actions Have Consequences

summary: you take the walk of shame to a very uncomfortable level

warnings: other than the barca girls being little shits, nothing!

a/n: a fun little part 2 to this

word count: 549

“You’re walking weird”

“I’m not”

You are. It’s glaringly obvious. And the wincing accompanying each step is making everything ten times worse.

“Deja de mentir. Ale, dile a tu novia que deje de mentir”

Alexia doesn't respond to Mapi’s petulant attempts at trying to weedle information out of you. Which you are grateful for. Saving your dignity is the least she can do after being the one to turn you into a snipers nightmare.

“En serio, what happened to you?” Patri chimes in, unwanted curiosity gleaming in her eyes as she strides across the room.

You feel your cheeks heat up instantly as you try to come up with a plausible excuse. “I just... overdid it at the gym,” you mutter, hoping it sounds believable.

It doesn’t.

Not with the way your voice cracks and the way Alexia tries and fails to hide her smirk.

Ona raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure, because we all limp like that after a workout. Tienes razón, Mapi. Ella está mentir”

Aitana saunters over next, a knowing grin on her smug little face. “Maybe she had a different kind of workout,” she teases, earning a chorus of laughs from the rest of the team.

You want to die.

Your reputation is ruined!

You groan, hiding your face in your sweaty hands. “Can we please just focus on training?” you plead, though your voice is muffled. Strained. Both from embarrassment and a consequence of you overusing it.

You make a mental note to take a bottle of apology wine ‘round to your neighbours.

Alexia gratefully steps in, her authoritative captain voice cutting through the laughter. “Muy bien, es suficiente. Manos a la obra.” She gives you a quick, supportive squeeze on the shoulder before moving to the front of the group.

Leading her pack away from the prey they have just mauled half to death.

The team reluctantly follows, though the giggles and whispers don’t fully die down. You try to focus on the drills, but every step reminds you of last night, and the sly glances from your teammates make it increasingly hard to shove the memories to the back of your mind.

As the session draws on, you manage to push through the discomfort thanks to your competitive streak taking over. By the time everything is done and dusted, you’re exhausted but relieved to have survived without further interrogation.

Mapi sidles up to you as you’re grabbing your water bottle. “You know, next time you could just invite us over to watch,” she jokes, winking.

You roll your eyes, but there’s a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “In your pervy little dreams, Maria”

She laughs, giving you a playful nudge. “No harm in asking ¿eh?”

Alexia appears suddenly by your side, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Ignórala,” she murmurs, kissing your temple.

You lean into her, grateful for her support, emotional and otherwise. “I always do”

Keira makes a gagging noise. “You two are disgustingly cute”

You stick your tongue out at her, and she laughs, heading off to join the rest of the team in the locker room.

Alexia looks down at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, about tonight…Segunda ronda, ¿sí?”

You groan, but you’re smiling. “We’ll see, Captain. We’ll see”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

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myunconquerablesoul · 1 year ago

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His Favored.

r.sukuna x fem!reader

Warnings: historical au, mentions of violence (towards an OC, but never us. Not even Sukuna is allowed to abuse us!), mentions of blood, mentions of wanting to kill someone, mentions of someone hanging, nudity (reader is a concubine), it gets steamy in the end, but nothing too detailed. (I think) Sukuna is soft(?) in this one.

Wordcount: 3.445 (I would like to say I'm sorry, but I'm not)

Fanart

The servant lays in a bloody mess before you. He was not dead, but you were sure he wished he'd be by now.

Sukuna is staring directly at you. His attention was no longer on the poor soul.

His hands grip your cheeks, and the others hold your wrists.

"I told you," Sukuna says, voice low, "to not speak to that servant, or there would be consequences."

He lost his temper today. He has seen you talking to that lowlife, hidden in one of the many hallways in his estate. And as if that wasn't enough, that peasant tried to pull you into his embrace. Forcefully.

Looking back, it was a miracle for him to be still alive.

"Now, why would my concubine disobey my orders just like that?" It was simply inexcusable to him for anyone else to speak to you the way he did when it wasn't any secret that you were, clearly, the curse's favorite.

"The servant... he..." He saw your eyes drifting to the servant again. Nervous. You were in an inner battle with yourself. He had secretly planned to whisk you away from Sukuna's estate so you could have freedom and independence.

You'd felt his kindness and sincerity toward you in the short time you'd known him. You knew he meant well, but it was already too late.

Sukuna, on the other hand, felt that you were hesitating to tell him. Not only that, but you were trying to protect that poor excuse of a man.

It made him want to kill him right on the spot.

Then he abruptly let go of you and turned his attention back to the poor soul. You felt the shift in the atmosphere immediately. You knew that if you did not do anything right this instant, the man's head would be rolling around the floor within seconds.

You were trying to figure out what to do.

If you asked for it to stop, your master would get the wrong idea and kill the man without hesitation. You were sure of it.

"My lord," You had to try to defuse this situation. "may I ask for us to speak privately?" If not for the sake of the man on the floor, then for your sanity.

"I will tell you everything, but please... alone." Sukuna stopped in his tracks upon hearing your request.

If it were anyone else's request, no, others would not dare to. They only dare to speak to him when he addresses them. But you, you were always a particular case for Sukuna.

For a moment, you were met with nothing but silence. You feared that you had made everything worse and sealed the servant's faith.

But then, without warning, Sukuna turned back to you, grabbed you by your wrist, and led you out of the throne room.

You did not dare look back to see if the servant was alright. Knowing it would end in unwanted bloodshed.

"Uraume!"

You haven't even noticed Uraume standing there. But you weren't given the time to properly acknowledge them, as your shared master dragged you forward.

"Ensure that the filth's wounds are taken care of, and lock him in his room until I decide what will become of him!" He spat.

Sukuna leads you to his room.

It wasn't the first time you were here, but the first time you didn't know the outcome of what would happen.

The curse let go of you after sliding the Shoji shut. He leaves you standing in the middle of the room. Sukuna's dark eyes meet yours.

"Explain." He didn't yell.

For a moment, you believe you would've preferred if he did. It was a painful reminder of how patient he was with you. Of how much you could get away with.

"The servant wanted to take me away from here. I told him that I wanted to stay. But he kept pressuring me."

Sukuna leans against the wall, staring at you with a dangerous, hungry light in his eyes. The fact that you wanted to stay was good. He likes it when you're obedient.

"I never wanted to leave you, my lord." You got down on your knees and bowed until your forehead touched the ground. "Please, you have to believe me."

Sukuna looked at you for a long moment. He lets out a low growl, stepping up to you so that he towers over you. "Prove it, concubine."

"He wrote me letters. I can show you." You were still looking at the floor. You knew you had to be careful. If you say something wrong, misstep, or accidentally anger him more, the servant won't live to see the next day.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at that, curious. "Show me."

"They are in my chambers."

Sukuna steps back, ordering you to stand and lead the way to your room.

"Here."

Sukuna sat on your bed as he took the letters and unfolded them. But before skimming each word, he takes a good look at you.

You stood there with all your might. There's not a bit of fear in your eyes, just concern.

Ever since your village offered you as an addition to his harem, the curse felt that there was something about you. Sukuna felt a strong pull toward you, an attraction he had never felt for someone else.

"The servant, Yuto, told me a week ago that he fell in love with me and asked for my hand." You studied Sukuna momentarily, wondering if mentioning his name was wise.

Sukuna, however, didn't pay any mind to that. Instead, he tried his best to conceal his surprise.

He thought that you would try to protect the lowlife. Try to convince him to let him go, but you tell how things were - nothing but the truth - without concealing anything.

"I told him that I didn't feel the same way. But he wouldn't give up. I didn't want to cause too much attention towards this."

You didn't feel alarmed per se. It was just very out of character for the curse to react the way he currently was. He was too calm about all of this newfound information.

Sukuna chuckles at that. "Or were you too afraid?" tone mocking.

"I was afraid of what you would do to him." He raised a brow at that. So, you elaborated a bit more. "He does not deserve to die because he fell in love."

When he hears your words, his eyes darken again. Sukuna eyes you, and you can tell that his thoughts seem elsewhere.

"You're right." As you watch him, he gets up from your bed and approaches you to stand directly before you, towering over you.

"One does not deserve to die for simply falling in love, dear concubine."

Standing before you, you could now practically feel the bloodlust radiating from him.

"But trying to steal someone else's property, especially when said property belongs to me, the king of curses, is where every human with minimum survival instincts may draw the line." he spat, full of venom.

You averted your gaze from him. You knew he was right. You, too, could not understand where Yutu's boldness came from.

But then again, love does blind people.

"That bastard deserves to perish for even thinking he had a chance to get away with it." now that was more like the Sukuna, you know.

You felt smaller with every passing second, and you could no longer think of a way to save the servant's life.

When you looked down on one of your master's hands, you could see the letters in a tied grip. The papers were utterly wrinkled.

Not that it mattered.

"Or is it perhaps that my dearest concubine grew close to that poor excuse of a man and began to like the idea?"

Your eyes snapped to him in an instant. "I didn't grow close to him. I didn't even like him." you desperately needed him to believe you.

"If that were the case," Sukuna counters, "why did you keep these letters?"

You immediately began to shake your head. "I never let him believe he had a chance. I always told him that I belonged to you, my lord." The way Yuto kept insisting the past week made you uneasy; even remembering it made you feel uncomfortable.

Sukuna then gently stroked your hair - a silent apology after noticing your growing discomfort.

He didn't mean to talk to you in that tone, but the mere thought of you being possibly interested in someone other than him-

"I kept the letters because I wanted you to believe me when I told you."

The curse nods, seeming to accept what you're telling him. It pleased him that you were thinking about telling him. "Good girl." His fingers slip down to your chin, stroking it gently.

"I wanted to tell him to stop today, but then you saw us, and- you know the rest."

Sukuna nods, his fingers still caressing your chin. "Indeed... but I want us to go over our boundaries again, dear concubine. I should not have to remind you what happens when you speak to other men besides me."

"No, my lord." you felt the room lighten up again, and for a moment, everything seemed to return to normal. "You should not worry; I will never accept a man who claims to love me. I know my place." you tried to brighten up the mood. But then-

"And if I was the one who loved you?" he asks, tone turning dangerous. "What if I was the one who desired you? Would you have given me your hand?" Sukuna looked at you with his intense eyes again. Something hidden behind them, something you could not read, but your heart answered before your mind could comprehend what was happening.

"I would."

Sukuna considers you for a long moment, his gaze boring into yours.

"I know you to be loyal and obedient, and because of that, I am not as concerned... but I need you to make this promise regardless." Sukuna leans closer to you, his eyes dark and fierce. "If another man speaks to you, you will tell me. No secrets, no hiding that from me."

You nod at that, still not trusting your voice enough. The thought that the king of curses could be jealous and possessive of you made you smile a bit.

Sukuna smiles at you and strokes your cheek and hair. "Good girl, you look beautiful when you smile."

He still didn't know what to do with the servant, but he knew he had had enough of this useless conversation.

His tone shifts again, voice low. "Let us not dwell on this further. Shall we go to bed?"

"Whenever you please."

Sukuna laughs softly, his tone playful and flirtatious. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," he teases you as he pics you over his shoulders and takes you back to his chambers.

Of course, he could stay here and take you right then and there, but he wanted to spend the night in comfort with you.

"Here, let me help you out of these things."

"Yes, my lord."

Sukuna removes your dress, leaving you in a thin chemise. He moves behind you, his hands slipping to the laces of that piece of clothing, his breath warm on your skin.

It feels all too domestic to romantic. And somehow, you can't seem to shake something off your mind. You weren't sure what would become of the servant. But something about your conversation with your master seemed to be off.

"My lord, may I ask something?"

Sukuna hums. "Ask away, dear concubine."

How should you put it? This road you were taking could lead to death, but on the other hand, you needed to know. So you took a risk.

"You asked me if it were you who'd love me."

Sukuna momentarily stops what he's doing. "Yes, I remember..." a dangerous glint enters his dark eyes again for a moment, but it vanishes as quickly as it does. "Continue, dear concubine."

"I- if.. if it's not too bold of me to ask."

The last concubine who dared ended up hanging in the backyard as a reminder of your status - a reminder never to seek more. It would be best never to forget that your only purpose was to satisfy your master's needs.

"Speak. I'm listening," Sukuna tells you softly, hands returning to work on your laces. His eyes trail down the curve of your neck to your back, lingering momentarily.

He knew where this was going. Today was indeed a day full of surprises.

"Do you?" there it was. a silent question. He never thought that you would pull through.

Sukuna's fingers freeze on the remaining laces of your clothes, his hands stilling. "... Do I what?" he asks cautiously.

"Do you love me?" The curse didn't know what to say first. He could deny it and proceed as if nothing happened, but the way your voice calls to him like you were hoping for some miracle.

His voice is barely above a whisper when he finally replies to you. "...I do."

"You- you Do? But- you have so many beautiful concubines at your service. So many women who'd willingly offer themselves to you…" your voice lost confidence, turning smaller with every passing second.

"None compare to you," Sukuna promises, voice soft and genuine. "None have a hold on my mind like you, my dear concubine. I do not feel for them what I feel for you."

Sukunas's hands slip to your waist and work on your laces again. "Do you think you could come to love me as I have you?" he asks.

It takes you a moment to respond. Sukuna is uncharacteristically patient with you.

"When that servant first told me about his feelings for me, I told him that my heart already belonged to someone else." you reply breathlessly.

"And who, pray tell, would your heart belong to?" Sukuna murmurs, voice low. The laces are almost finished, the thin chemise the only thing separating you from Sukuna's touch.

"Can I be so bold?"

Sukuna hums, a low grin curving his lips. "Yes."

He pulls the last lace free, the garment falling at your feet. "Tell me, dear concubine, whose heart do I have?" he questions eagerly, turning you around and looking straight at your eyes.

"Mine."

Sukuna smiles at you, his eyes shining brightly. "You are truly a good girl," he exclaims, a voice full of affection. "But that answer proves what you knew all along, doesn't it?"

Sukuna begins to move against you, his hand now caressing your cheek, and he leans down towards you as if expecting you to kiss him. His dark eyes are locked on yours as if looking for your consent.

You give a slight nod.

Sukuna cups your face in both hands, his fingers gently pushing your hair out of the way. He moves slowly, not breaking eye contact until your noses and lips are all but touching. His breath is warm against your skin, your heart racing.

"Is this what you want, dear concubine?" he whispers, low and sultry, full of desire for you.

"Am I allowed to speak what I truly want?"

Sukuna chuckles in response, voice low and breathy. "You do know that I allow you to say whatever you'd like, don't you?" he questions you, still close to you that the two of you are almost kissing. "So, speak your mind, dear concubine."

"I- I want to be more than just a mere concubine to you, my lord."

Sukuna stares at you for a long moment, eyes heavy with consideration. "And what more would you like to be to me, dear concubine?" he whispers, looking down at you. "Do you wish to ascend past this place of yours... to be on equal footing with me?"

"I would never dare to ask such things."

"But, if I were to offer them to you, would you accept... dear concubine?" Sukuna's voice is low and husky.

There's promise there, hope, and a little bit of lust. You've been a good and loyal concubine, not one to ever ask for more than what you've been given, and he rewards loyalty.

"What if I allowed you to become my equal?" it all sounds too good to be true.

"Then- then I would be selfish and accept."

"There is nothing wrong with being a little bit selfish," Sukuna reminds you, his fingers running through your loose hair.

"You deserve this, my dear concubine. You have been loyal and obedient for as long as you've been here. You deserve to be treated as my equal."

Sukuna's eyes gleam, his gaze lingering on you in a way you hadn't known him to do before.

"You are more than just a servant," Sukuna says, voice low.

"I'm willing to give you a new title, my dear concubine..." he pauses, taking a deep breath before he continues.

His gaze is locked on yours, his eyes sparkling with love and lust. "I want to make you my wife."

"W- wife? As in- in your lady?"

"You will be my lady, yes," Sukuna tells you, voice huskier as he speaks. "My dear, loyal wife. And I will be yours. You will be queen alongside me."

"Your body belongs to me," he adds. "But in every other regard, you will be my equal. We will walk among the humans together, as their rulers, in love, in trust. And I will grant you anything you desire... no matter how dark."

"I- I don't know what to say."

"Then do not say anything," Sukuna tells you. He lifts your face towards him until your lips are almost touching. "Show me with your actions how you feel about this, dear concubine."

"Show me what you feel," he adds, voice low. His gaze is heavy with desire for you, and your heart pounds in your chest, heat rising to your cheeks at his words.

Sukuna is kissing you passionately, his hands tangled in your loose hair and pulling you closer. You can feel the force behind the kiss, the want and need from the curse, which sends your body into chaos. He moves a hand down, driving up your body with purpose. They continue moving upwards, over your ribs and chest, to cup your breasts, squeezing them gently before they caress you.

"I want this. Everything you're willing to give. I want to be selfish. I want you, please…"

Sukuna responds to your words by deepening the kiss and pulling you even closer to him. He's no longer in the mood for words, his hands sliding up your curves to your neck, pinning you to the wall.

He's gentle, despite the force of his kiss, and he makes sure he doesn't hurt you — but there's no denying he wants you, and you can feel the lust spilling from him as he pushes his body more and more onto yours.

Sukuna groans into the kiss. Your mouth is against his, your lips and his moving back and forth to satisfy this thirst between you two.

He breaks from the kiss and stares at you with soft eyes. His smile is heavy and filled with love, and he leans to press another kiss against your lips. "Then, from today on, dear concubine, you will be my wife."

"You are mine," Sukuna says to himself, too lost in this moment. "My wife, my love. No longer my concubine, my subject, but my equal."

He trails more kisses against you, those of love rather than lust. They are soft and gentle as if he's promising you only the best.

When the two of you are breathless, Sukuna carries you toward the bed. Your heart flutters within your chest as if you're in a dream come true. He lays you upon the bed, and his lips are again moving against yours, soft and gentle, full of love, as if he's worshipping.

He pulls back to look down at you, his eyes heavy. He is long gone. Body and mind filled with nothing but pure ecstasy. "Mine."

"Always yours, my lord." The curse's tone was possessive and full of devotion. It made you breathless to think that was all for you.

Sukuna's eyes locked with yours, his every movement designed to be as erotic as possible. His kiss is heavy, and how he moves against you is enough to force a moan from your lips. His fingers explore your body, moving lower slowly so that you are practically panting by the time he reaches his destination.

"Let me love you in every way possible."

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #fem!reader #jjk

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thecrabbybarista · 6 months ago

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We should talk about The Lords in Black I'm gonna do that right now because I wanna talk about their trope subversion and symbolism and shit.

So obviously The Lords in Black are a subversion of Cosmic/Eldritch horror and I'm gonna explain how using an ant metaphor

So the classic ant metaphor for cosmic horror is to imagine that you're an ant encountering a piece of human technology, right? I believe it's usually a circuit board. The whole point is you're witnessing something deeply incomprehensible and unfamiliar.

The ant metaphor for the Lords in Black is: imagine you're an ant and a teenager starts burning you with a magnifying glass.

It's still incomprehensible, but not in the way the complexities of a circuit board is. If you were suddenly stricken by a scalding beam of light, the only way you could rationalize that is that it was an act of a god. You and your ant colony would invent and fear this god.

The Lords in Black each represent a kind of strange and inscrutable cruelty that the modern world offers, the cursed lasers that cut into our souls, from places we have no power over.

Wiggly is obviously the idol of capitalism. Animalistic desperation, commodity fetishization, and the exchange of money, products, and emotions. All of the things that the other Lords represent stem from elements of capitalism, hence why Wiggly is THE Lord in Black, the leader of his brothers. What Wiggly offers will never be enough. He is what leaves you always unsatisfied.

Nibbly is the idol of the consumption of human beings as products. Obsession with self image and presentability, trends of all kinds, and the beauty and fitness industries. People in the modern age are desperate to be consumable, and some would go to any lengths to do so. This is an attitude that especially impacts women, who feel that they need to wear make up every day just to earn respect. And when we feel the need to change to be respectable, the need to look appealing and to be consumable, the bourgeois eat well. Our quest to look special makes us like any other customer, filling. It's no mistake that the two leads of Honey Queen are women desperate to be noticed and respected. It makes them all the more eager to be eaten.

Tinky is the idol of infinity and repetition. Dead end jobs, middle class suburbia, and the inability to escape one's circumstances. It's no coincidence that the first time we see Tinky is at a wedding, a ceremony dedicated to eternal commitment, or that he's associated with CCRP, a company in which most of the workers do useless busywork all day. When you look at the life you have ahead of you, it can feel crushing. Will you ever have a real career to be proud of, or will you be stuck at this job until you die? Will you ever not struggle to make rent? Will you really love your spouse forever? What if you don't? Isn't it just easier to continue the routine than to address the problem? After Ted is driven to insanity by the Bastard's Box, after he discovers that he can't escape the person he's become, he becomes homeless, one of the most terrifying eternities a person can find themselves in, fully dependent on random acts of kindness to survive while your situation drives you further into insanity.

Blinky is the idol of the panopticon. Gossip, public drama, and unwanted attention. One of the first things Blinky does on screen is sexually objectify a girl who's fresh out of high school, and this plainly displays a consequence of living in a content driven world. There is constant scrutiny and interpretation given to your every action. At any moment, you could have over a thousand eyes on you, whether you want them there or not. The panopticon we live in captures us in moments of time, and turns the person we were in that moment into an object deserving anger, embarrassment, lust, admiration, judgement, or anything else a watcher might assign. But Blinky also targets another fear, the fear that we feel when we can't see the danger, and cannot protect ourselves or those we love. Alice's anxiety that Deb might cheat on her when she's not around are made manifest in Watcher World, and Bill's frustration at not being let into Alice's life are used against the family. We are inclined to both want and fear the panopticon. We hide, and we seek, and we expose.

Pokey is the idol of tyranny. Complacency, sedation, and obedience. The world revolves around the few and uses the many in service of this. We are all expected to fill some role in service to the rich, to work for a corporation and to buy the products of those corporations, and when we cannot fill these roles we are at risk of starving, or being kicked out of our homes. We must join them in their quest for profit, or die. But we must also accept their pacifiers or we will be driven insane. We must choose between complacency or despair in confronting our place in the world as a pawn, as an ant in the colony. Isn't it easier to accept the comforting lies? Your job is important. Corporations give people what they want. People in power deserve their power. People in power are using it well. We are happy. America is great.

These are the magnifying glasses that are being used to torment us, that we cannot make reason out of, that we've made dark gods out of. But this isn't the first time humanity has encountered scorching light from the heavens. When the people of ancient Greece witnessed burning rods of light, falling viciously from the heavens, they invented Zeus.

But we know where lightning comes from now. We know the science behind electricity and its place in the world. We know what keeps lightning away and what attracts it. We can protect ourselves from it.

But there's an important difference. Lightning is natural. It's existed long before we have and it will continue when we're gone.

The unorthodox cruelty of being alive today is not natural. We cannot logic our way into surviving it because it does not operate under a sound logic. But we can make things a little more bearable by focusing on what is sound, understandable and natural.

There is humanity. There are families friends and lovers who would go to the ends of earth to protect each other. As long as we have this humanity, we have hope.

That's why Miss Holloway's deal with the Lords erases her from living memory after her temporary deaths. To have the powers that she does she gave away the power most important to have under the Lord's rule: human connection. The only real thing we have left.

Alice and Bill escaped Blinky's manipulation through the love they have for each other

Emma survived the longest out of any character in tgwdlm because of the genuine hope Paul gave her of a better future

Lex snapped Tom out of Wiggly's control by reminding him of what his son really means to him

Ted couldn't escape Tinky's plan for him because he was too jaded to make a genuine connection with a woman.

Linda was eaten by Nibbly because she didn't have a loving connection with her father, because her father always made her believe that she was never good enough, because this mindset led her to take for granted the connections she did have in her life.

The world no longer cares about us. We have to care for each other. It's the only thing we have left

#starkid #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time #npmd #hatchetfield #pokotho #bliklotep #tnoy karaxis #nibblenephim #wiggog y'wrath

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cinnamonest · 1 year ago

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Uhtceare

Yandere Ayato x Reader - "Failed escape attempt" series

(I still cannot publish posts that have people tagged. I don't know why, it just gives me an error popup saying it couldn't be processed. Apologies to those in my taglist.)

Warning: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, implications of forced/coerced marriage, masturbation voyeurism that’s also kinda forced, manipulative use of mental health and problematic way of addressing it, gaslighting and psychological manipulation, implied future forced drugging, there’s just a lot of my man being awful here

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“Ah, there you are.”

Of course. He would be right there at the entrance waiting, wouldn’t he.

You were hoping to get a few more seconds to put off the inevitable, but the reality of your situation was not so kind as to grant you that. It was all far too fast — the full events of the night before, the journey of being dragged back here — flanked on all sides by doushin all the while — all went by in a blur, leading up to this very dreaded moment.

You kept your gaze turned to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact. Your fingers curled, digging into the fabric around your thighs.

Nonetheless, without even hesitating nor willing it, you found your feet moving on their own. Perhaps it was instinct, to get away from the unfamiliar men that made you so uncomfortable and uneasy, and into the arms that, despite everything, were at least familiar, and thereby a comfort at the end of your long trial of distress and misery. Maybe you knew it was expected, and feared some consequence for not acting as you knew you should. Or maybe some of both.

Regardless, your feet shuffled forward, any thoughts muted in favor of instinct as you bounded over towards your husband — as much as you hated to acknowledge it, your one source of comfort. As you grew close, he reached an arm out, hand firmly planting itself on your back and pulling you in. Perhaps out of that same sense of fear at the thought of disobeying expectations, perhaps out of pure exhaustion, you allowed it without struggle coming to stand directly by his side, grasping at his clothes, burying your head against him and squeezing your eyes shut as if it would obscure the others’ view of you.

“I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how worried I was about her,” he spoke to the arrangement of men now standing a ways away, moving his hand on to rest atop your head. “I apologize for the inconvenience. The poor thing gets a bit irrational from time to time. You know how it is.”

The other men only gave a brief, curt sound of acknowledgement. One, the own standing closest to the two of you based on how close the voice sounded, seemed to deem it appropriate to give at least some response. “Of course, sir.”

Not that that actually made any sense, that such a bizarre thing to say could ever warrant an ‘of course’ as a reply. But they weren’t there to be sensible, to assess the situation and act according to any supposed principles. To help. They were there only to follow through with an assigned task, one that they had not even tried to conceal in their expressions and tones towards you was an unwanted inconvenience, and to turn a blind eye to any conclusions they might draw.

Maybe that too was intentional — the estate lord could have easily sent his private forces to be the ones to escort you back to the estate, yet he chose to allow the public law enforcement to return you. Perhaps he knew you’d grown to resent the family’s private forces, and thereby had no issue inconveniencing them, whereas he knew you’d feel more embarrassment and guilt having strangers be forced to bring you all the way back… yes, the more you thought about it, that certainly seemed like that was his intent.

“I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Ah, I see, that’s good to hear.”

Your hands balled into fists.

The whole show made of it all was utterly humiliating — that too no doubt the intention — but you had no choice but to stand there. Doing something rash like running off to hide yourself from the embarrassment would only meet a worse consequence later.

The burning, bitter anger only made said embarrassment that much worse. It was consuming, maddening. Everything — this place, these people, their words and their attitudes, their dismissal of you as if you were a child or an animal — it made you so damn mad, and yet, you could do nothing but endure.

Your eyes burned. You blinked a few times in rapid succession. You couldn’t forgive yourself if you actually cried in front of these strangers. The back-and-forth between the two parties continued, but you did your best to tune out the words, knowing that listening would only hurt you further.

It wasn’t until there was movement that you returned your attention to them, pulling your head away from him to look — now they were turning, walking away.

Leaving you alone with him.

You then dared not avert your eyes from the ground, watching the men from your peripheral vision as they made their way down the path, growing smaller and smaller and they moved further away, until their footsteps were no longer audible.

All that remained was a heavy, palpable tension.

Avoidance was the easiest path — a foolish choice, of course, which you knew full well. It wasn't as if you could avoid the present reality forever, but nonetheless, you found yourself clinging to each precious second that ticked by, body growing stiffer as you braced yourself for the inevitable. Perhaps you could trick yourself into believing that if you just kept your gaze turned to the ground, nothing would happen.

But sure enough, you clenched your jaw as his hand moved upwards, and came to rest on your shoulder.

“Come on now. You're certainly tired. Let’s get you to rest for a while.”

His voice only made your stomach twist further. It was calm and gentle, not explosive or infuriated. It would have felt more assuring that way, if your fear could just be easily confirmed, rather than a calculated calm that felt far more dreadful and foreboding than any rage.

His hand moved from your shoulder, coming down to grasp your wrist. It wasn’t a sudden, harsh motion, nor was the grip itself strong enough as to be painful — but it was noticeably firm.

And then, he pulled. A soft tug, pulling you in the direction of the doors.

Your resistance was not a conscious choice, not something you thought about nor had any time to do so; it was only a reflex. Instinctively, your body stiffened, your feet dug into the ground, and thus his pull was met not with the meek obedience that was expected of you, with footsteps that followed where you were guided, but instead a firm resistance.

Your own realization of that resistance, what you’d just done, sent a sharp rush of fear through your veins.

And thus, for the first time since arriving, your gaze tilted upward, and your wide, frightened eyes met his.

His expression shifted. The amiable, pleasant smile half-faded, still present, but only barely.

“…Don't be difficult. Come on.”

Likewise, his voice dropped far lower, a dark and foreboding tone far removed from the one he’d spoken with just moments ago to the other men.

Your mouth opened, instinctively wanting to reply, but you couldn't summon a coherent thought. You were afraid, you were angry, you were so, so embittered and ashamed and wanted nothing more than to run to your room, close your eyes and burrow into the bed.

And for a moment, you considered the compliant option. If you just lowered your head and followed along, apologized and insisted you were just being petty or immature or whatever he would call it this time, and took whatever consequence was handed out, then you could do just that, confine yourself to your bed and try to forget it all.

But the shame only fueled the fury, like gasoline to a fire. It was his fault. As scared of punishment as you were, your pride could not stand for simply bowing your head, and as your mind raced, the sheer fury you’d been stewing in all throughout the night before, all the angry words you’d monologued in your head and vowed to spew at him when you saw him again, all came rushing back.

You swallowed, fingers curling even harder around the fabric around your thighs. Now that it was just the two of you, although you still fought it as best as you could, you couldn’t help that your eyes watered, burning as your vision blurred out of pure frustration and misery.

“I… I know you did all of this on purpose! I only got all the way out there because you let me, a-and…”

The words came out in a trembling, wavering voice, far weaker than intended.

He exhaled a heavy sigh, closing his eyes in frustration. His voice was still characteristically gentle, but you could hear his patience waning. “We can discuss this inside.”

“But I—”

“Inside.”

You stiffened, freezing in place. That was not a tone you heard often in your married life, more firm than normal.

You swallowed, gaze darting to the ground again, unable to summon a reply and not wanting to make eye contact again. With another heavy exhale, he pulled at your arm with a gentle tug, and this time, you followed, feet quickly shuffling behind his.

You didn’t say a word, though, through the full minute or so of walking across the courtyard, through the front doors, down the hall, only dimly lit today due to curtains hanging over the windows lining the walls. It occurred to you with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you were headed straight for your shared bedroom, rather than one of the estate’s many drawing rooms and lounges, which meant the anticipated conversation to come would be one you’d both want kept in privacy. Your stomach felt as if it were turning in knots, your chest compressed by an unseen force, each breath feeling strenuous and weighted.

And then, finally, you both came to a halt as you reached the last room at the end of the hall. You felt helpless, unable to do anything as you watched the handle of the door turn, stumbling in as you were guided forward by the hand that came to gently press on your lower back.

Likewise, equally pitifully, you could do nothing but stand there and wait as you listened for the door to close behind you, clenching your jaw at the trepidation in your chest from the footsteps on the floor behind you, but made sure to not let your fear swallow your fury.

“Now,” he began slowly as he moved around you to the other side of the room, voice now back to its usual tone, but still firm nonetheless, “I can tell you have a great deal you want to get off your chest, but you’ll have to forgive me for a moment… your well-being is my primary concern.” He looked you up and down, and his voice took on a note of concern that admittedly sounded sincere. “You aren’t hurt in any way, are you, dear?”

You bit your lip at the affectionate term, and more importantly, at how unbothered he came across. Granted, you now knew just how much of the past twelve hours or so had been entirely within his control, so it made sense that he was never genuinely distressed, but admittedly, it was also disappointing. Part of you wanted him to have been panicked and worried, to get the satisfaction of knowing you’d successfully gotten under his skin.

Still, you shook your head, keeping your gaze to the ground as you gave a curt, frustrated reply. “No.”

“Good,” his eyes closed for a moment, taking a heavy breath of pause. “Well, in that case…” He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. “I believe this would be the best time to give you a moment to explain yourself.”

You couldn’t miss the obvious foreboding in his voice, nor the way it made your body stiffen.

But you had already prepared for that — you knew it would be intimidating, that it would be awkward and shameful, but you had spent the previous few hours trying to preemptively harden your resolve against that. Besides, after it was interrupted earlier, you now had the chance to get back to what was essentially the pre-written script you’d memorized in your head of exactly every little thing you wanted to say to him.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, the you that was standing there in front of him was significantly less brave than the ‘you’ in the scenes you’d played out in your head on the journey home.

Still, you clenched your hands into fists, thinking you had to at least force him to acknowledge the one point you’d deemed most important.

“You let me leave.”

In your mind, you’d spoken with a bold voice and looked him directly in the eye… and while the same words came out of your mouth, they were instead said with a weak, shrill attempt at an accusatory tone, pathetically looking to the wall as you found yourself unable to summon the gall to look up, once more lacking the firm accusation and self-assuredness your imaginative self had had.

He tilted his head. “That’s not a very accurate way to put it. I never granted you any such permission… I was simply aware of your intent to run off, and didn’t stop you.”

For a moment, you contemplated asking how he knew — but you had a feeling the answer would only make you more upset. His voice was laden with a faux sincerity, a sort of disingenuousness that made your blood boil, enough to embolden you further as you continued.

“And you… you had people following me the whole time, I know you did!” Your voice began to get louder as you grew bolder, bitter anger strengthening you against any trepidation. “They didn't even do a good job! I started noticing them towards the end of it!”

"Well, that would be because they were specifically told that concealment was not necessary.” He kept up the dry manner of speech, seemingly unbothered by your fury. “They deserve a break from high effort jobs every now and then, surely you understand. Besides, they didn’t directly interfere with your little outing, yes?”

He was so calm in contrast to your visible irritation, no doubt at least in part deliberate. It only served to make you even more mad.

“They told the local doushin to — no, you told them to tell them! There’s no other way that could have happened! I-I, I got," in sheer frustration, you jerked your fists in a sharp downward motion, "arrested!"

“I’m very well aware.”

“They put me in jail!”

“I do believe that is the standard process for an arrest, yes.”

“I was all by myself for hours!”

“Naturally. I couldn’t allow you to be placed with any dangerous persons, that’s why you were put in a solitary space.”

You clenched your fists so hard they trembled. “You, y-you let me get that far in the first place, and, and…” A lump formed in your throat again, which you did your best to suppress. “…Just to make me go through all that… I was there for hours before they came for me…” Your face scrunched up as you fought the urge to cry.

You hung your head, shoulders falling as you let your body relax, the fuse of anger burning out as it turned to a quiet bitterness swelling in your stomach. What was even the point? You knew better than to think your emotions would be given any weight, treated as anything beyond trivial.

A few moments of quiet passed, perhaps to see if you would say anything more, or perhaps just to force you to wait in uncomfortable uncertainty. After a moment, he shifted his posture slightly before unfolding one arm, holding out his hand in a standard gesture of speech.

“And what have we learned?”

You never would have thought one question could send such a spark of fury through your body in a single moment. Everything, from the wording to the timing to his tone, felt utterly mocking, infantilizing in a way that made you seethe.

You swallowed, practically trembling. “That you’ll go to any lengths to humiliate me?”

He returned the extended arm to its former position, exhaling heavily, straightening his stance. “It's rather unfair to assume I had such malicious intent. Stopping you early on in the past has clearly not worked in the long term, so further measures were necessary.” He tilted his head to meet your averted gaze, reflexively turning your attention back to him, eyes connecting with yours. “My only intention was that you would have some time to reflect on your series of decisions… and hopefully return with a change of heart. These episodes of yours are worrisome.” He gave a brief pause before finishing, “claiming I had cruel intent when you know in your heart that I only arranged this because I care for you… that's rather harsh, isn't it?”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to acknowledge the notion that the words were genuine. Admittedly having fallen for the words die a moment, you mentally shook off the momentary feeling of guilt.

These situations always went the same way, you'd be driven to apologize and feel bad about your choices. You had never met anyone else in your life with such a mastery of speech-craft as to be able to control your emotions and actions with words as easily as if it were pushing buttons on a machine. The first few times, you'd actually fallen for it, found yourself completely malleable, psyche bending and shifting to another's whims. At least with time, you'd become more resilient, had learned to notice and recognize the attempts… so you believed.

You opted to avoid answering the quesiton. Instead of acknowledging his own words, you turned to another matter that had come to mind during your escapade.

“Aren’t you abusing your authority? How are you even allowed to do this to begin with?!”

He took another deep breath, as if it were a trivial matter, or one that shouldn’t necessitate explanation.

“It’s… complicated, but the law does fully permit estates to employ local forces to locate any missing property belonging to the estate… people employed or bound to it are a sort of grey area in that regard.” After a moment of pause, he added, “besides, I also made it very clear that you were not in your right mind at the time, so your wellbeing was of immediate concern, and they were happy to help.”

“What?” The anger in your tone only rose. “I was perfectly in my right mind, you, you… a-and I’m not…”

A few moments passed as you trailed off, having to pause to collect yourself, blink away frustrated tears.

He opened his mouth as if to respond, but seemed to decide against whatever he'd considered saying, closing his eyes and taking a breath before finally replying in a more exasperated tone.

“You're making yourself upset needlessly. I can only do so much… in the end, I only wanted to keep you safe. You have to be the one to accept the grace you're given. Wouldn't that be easier for you?”

There was still unease to his tone, but the way he said it was nonetheless indicative of a sort of tiredness, as if not wanting to carry on about the matter anymore. It almost sounded like he was saying that you “accepting” his “grace” was all that was required to bury the matter entirely.

You spoke slowly, cautiously.

“You’re not… mad?”

“…I never said that.” He shifted away from leaning against the wall, standing upright. ”Of course, I can’t allow this to go entirely unacknowledged.”

He took a few steps towards you, and you fought the urge to step back, keeping your arms rigidly straight at your side as he continued.

“Normally, a proper form of consequence would be in order… however, after consideration, I realized that this was in large part my own fault, and I owe it to you to take responsibility for that.”

The words took you by surprise. The idea that he was in any way acknowledging that he had any responsibility for what you did was baffling, all things considered. He had never once even acknowledged that refusing to let you leave the estate was essentially holding you prisoner, and usually insisted that everything he did was what was best for you, even if, as he seemed to believe was the case, you did not understand that.

You hesitated before replying. “What… what do you mean?”

He flashed you an amiable smile. “A lesser person would only act on their momentary frustrations, but I’m not the sort of person who acts without understanding the situation. Luckily, I do understand you.” He looked off to the side, holding a hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, before adding in a quieter voice, “I made the mistake of getting too caught up in my work recently. Acting out over feelings of neglect is entirely different from misbehavior out of sheer petulance.”

He turned his head back towards you again before finishing,

“It would be cruel to respond to a cry for attention as if it were ordinary disobedience.”

The words took you aback, and you hesitated in your response, but as it fully registered in your mind, the momentary surprise was replaced with shameful fury. You held your arms firmly at your side, hands balled into fists as you replied.

“What?! I didn't— I didn’t do it for attention!”

You felt foolish for thinking for even a second that he might actually empathize with you, might finally come to enough humility to realize that much of your perceived disobedience was due to the sheer degree of meticulous, total control he held over everything you did. But no, instead, your attempt to run away was being treated as attention-seeking. It felt belittling, degrading.

He took a short breath, as if about to say something, but as his gaze fell upon you again, he simply exhaled, an amused smile forming on his face, replacing the former exasperation — and only infuriating you further, realizing even your anger wouldn't be taken seriously.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He made no effort to hide the dismissive amusement in his voice, either, but cleared his throat before returning to a more neutral tone before you could give any retort. “Regardless, you've been through a lot already. If you can be mature and calm down, make some acknowledgement of the trouble you’ve caused and show some remorse, then, I'm willing to somewhat overlook this.” Making direct contact between your eyes and his, he finished, “Won’t that be easier on us both?”

The obvious dismissal of your statement and implications of what he thought made your face feel hot. The embarrassment that had already been weighing down on you now became suffocating, and the utter arrogance of the presumption of your willingness to comply made you so upset it felt nauseating.

“What does ‘somewhat’ mean?” You tried to suppress the irritation in your voice.

He gave another heavy sigh. “Should you really be asking for specifics? It’s your best course of action regardless.”

You opened your mouth and inhaled as if to speak, holding your closed fists up to your chest, ready to spew every ounce of vitriol you’d been building up, and then, you fell silent as your eyes met.

His expression grew dark, eyes half-lidded and features blank — not contorted with anger nor curiosity, but merely waiting, watching, warning. Anticipating your defiance, prepared to react accordingly.

You looked down, hesitating.

Was it really worth it…? A few moments of lashing out, at what cost? ‘Consequences’ hurt, in one sense or another, they always did, no matter what form that word took.

You swallowed. He was right — one path before you was wiser.

You hung your head.

“…I’m sorry…”

Even with your gaze turned downward, you could see his eyes widen just a bit in your peripheral vision, not having expected such quick compliance — understandably so, based on your past incidents. But after a moment, his expression softened. He took another step, closing the gap between you, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to lift your head back up.

“Mm. I’m glad you understand. You know, you've matured quite a bit recently.”

You almost, almost found yourself feeling happy at the praise, but then pushed that feeling away. It was part of the way he did things, part of the process, so you'd slowly come to recognize, putting the pieces together over and over until you became aware of how he managed to bring you down to submission each time. You refused to be swayed by that. You were only giving it up and apologizing because it was the was the easier, less painful choice… so you reminded yourself. Now, at least, you'd be done with this, could move on and quietly begin plotting again.

But then, as you felt his hand move down to your shoulder, then to your waist, you remembered the ‘somewhat.’

Yes, of course it couldn’t be left at that, wouldn’t be so simple as forcing you into humility just once.

You knew that full well. These checks of obedience after an act of disobedience never came solitary, and the desire for that subservience to be affirmed was not easily satiated. It would only grow deeper, an increasing hunger for your subservience. Pushing your pride further and further down, carving into your personhood and whittling away anything deemed unfitting. It would only go further, debasing you in increasingly violating ways.

You felt a gnawing in your stomach. You hadn’t thought of that part, in the moment, but the realization now made your heartrate begin to accelerate once more.

His eyes drifted downward.

“…Ah, right. The clothes you’re wearing, we need to have a servant wash them for you. Just set them by the door for now.”

You looked down. You hadn’t even bothered to think about it until now, having been so preoccupied with other thoughts, but indeed, the oh-so-nice and expensive clothing you’d been so lovingly lavished with, was now fully coated in grime and dirt.

At the same time, your immediate instinct was to protest the idea, knowing the intent. He wasn’t going to get you a replacement — which he himself would need to do, seeing as all of your clothing was, no doubt deliberately, kept outside the bedroom itself, and it had been established early on that you were to rely on him or servants to fetch whatever he would have you wear that day for you. Was the command too, then, intentional?

The very moment you even asked yourself the question, though, came the immediate answer, making you feel foolish for even questioning it. Of course it was intentional, planned — what wasn’t, anymore, in your life? You remembered looking back, on the day you were brought here, thinking over the past with borderline horror at the realization of how intricately detailed and precise every detail had been in his effort — what you now were certain was a premeditated plan — to get your family to call off the years-long betrothal you’d already been in, and marry you off to him instead. That realization of it all had kept you rightfully afraid of him, knowing he was always one step ahead of whatever you might attempt.

The corners of your mouth pulled taut with embarrassment, and you pulled your hands in towards your chest again, elbows pressed firmly to your sides. “That’s…”

He caught a glimpse of your face, and in turn smiled, an amused sort of expression. “Come on now,” he took a step towards you, reaching out and grasping at your hands, pulling them out of their defensive position, “even now, you’re still so shy over this?”

“I— no, I’m not—” you cut off, teeth clacking together as you snapped your mouth shut when his hands released yours, instead moving around to the binding ties of your outfit, pulling the knot apart.

You held your hands up to the level of your shoulders, bent at the elbow, fingers curled as if preparing to reach forward, to grasp at his hands, to do something.

But you didn’t.

The exchange was itself a means of conversation, communicating something not fully articulable by word alone. Violating your comfort and dignity, baring you to him, those things themselves were an assertion, a statement. To interrupt would be to challenge that assertion, to deny him. And perhaps it was, in part, also a test, a question of whether or not you would dare to deny the unspoken statement.

As the silk strands came undone, the first layer gave way to the second, and pulling apart that knot caused the fabric bound by it to slide apart, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

An unspoken reminder that your body was not your own, that any right to autonomy and privacy you might have beyond this room, no longer existed within it. Access to you was not a privilege granted by your permission, but an inherent right, provided by the very contract that legally bound you to him.

The casual, unhesitating manner with which you were stripped down only emphasized that that very reality itself was not something to be regarded as of any great significance, but a fact accepted as readily as any other. Exposing you, touching you, exercising that unconditional access to your body was given no greater thought than utilizing any of one’s possessions.

There was nothing he could ever say to you, nor adequate words to even exist, to fully encapsulate the degree to which you were owned — but with that gesture, you understood all the same.

And even though the humiliation of the reminder made your eyes burn, made you bite your lip, you lowered your hands to your side. An admission of defeat, surrender.

It did not go unnoticed. He smiled.

“Very good. You’re behaving much better today than I anticipated.”

Another moment of praise. He was genuinely pleased. You could see it and hear it through his face and voice.

Were it on any other matter, you might have felt proud to be praised in such a sweet, charming voice. If the praise were on something you actually wanted to achieve.

And then, his eyes trailed downward, running over your body, taking in each detail. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze settled on one particular spot.

“You really shouldn't lie to me,” he spoke in a quiet, low voice.

At first, you felt a momentary panic, not quite sure what he even meant, thinking you had somehow made a unintentional transgression. It wasn't until you looked down that you saw the scrape just below your collarbones from your, admittedly unsightly, vigorous resistance upon initial confrontation with the doushin the night prior, having essentially had to have been wrestled down to the concrete street. In hindsight, you were even surprised with yourself for putting up such a fight, but at the time it had just been the instinctive reflex, fueled by desperation.

It all felt distant now, as if further back in time than it was, the memory all blurring together. It was only a very small mark, and had now scabbed up as part of the natural healing process, but as his fingers brushed over the spot, you still tensed at the slight lingering sting.

“It doesn't really hurt,” you replied nonetheless. “It's fine…”

He only straightened back upright, closing his eyes momentarily.

“I suppose I shouldn't have expected common doushin to be able to follow instructions… just so you know, I did specifically say to ensure you weren't hurt in any way.” He turned his gaze downward, hand held to his chin as he added in a low mutter, “I'll be sure to only use private hands in the future, should I need something like this again.”

You shrugged, turning your eyes downward to the floor once more. Really, you wanted to not have to think about the incident any further, the mere memory stirring up embarrassment, which did not combine well with your already vulnerable state. “It's fine. It's not a big deal,” you grumbled. After a moment of hesitation, feeling another urge of spite, you added, “it wouldn't have happened if you didn't… do all that.”

He huffed in exasperation, but was quiet for the moment, seemingly composing his thoughts before replying.

“Don’t be disagreeable. We've discussed this. I care for you dearly, but that does not mean that you are exempt from expectations to behave.”

He always gave you that line — that a behavioral matter of yours had been previously ‘discussed,’ which merely meant he'd told you not to do something, or behave a certain way. That was the end-all-be-all — whatever you were told was set in stone the moment it left his mouth, and transgressing against the standard that was set was often treated as if you’d forgotten, as if it slipped your mind, the idea of intentional and deliberate disobedience being something unthinkable to such a degree that simply having done so by accident were more believable to him — and perhaps you ought be grateful for that.

You clamped your jaw shut, turning your head downward.

His gaze turned back to your body.

“…Your nerves are unsettled.” His hand slid it's way down your side, the feeling of touch lingering in a trail behind as his palm brushed over the curvature of your waist. “See, that's what causes these irrational episodes of yours. Stress, overexcitement. It just… builds naturally for you, over time.” After a moment, taking in your expression, he added, “it's nothing to feel bad about, dear. I don't mind helping you with it at all… I'm glad I can do so, really. I worry about how you'd manage without having me to help.”

You hesitated before giving a response. “What… what do you mean? I'm not… irrational…”

It was as if your words went in one ear and out the other, continuing on without responding to your objection. “But again, I failed to keep it in check this time, so this was ultimately my own fault… I'll have to make a note to be more thorough.”

His hand grasped at your waist, pulling you close. His other hand reached up, cupping your breast. He looked over towards your shared bed.

“Come on. Let's get you in bed.”

“Huh? But—”

His grip tightened. “Don't be difficult.”

Your stomach began to churn. You were still angry. The last thing you wanted was to go through what was essentially a humiliation ritual. There was something about the act itself — at least, between the two of you — that made you feel embarrassed and ashamed. The inherent vulnerability, for one, but moreover, because you knew the intent, you knew the way he viewed it in his mind, could practically feel the sentiment. An act of claiming, an exchange of power in which your loss of dignity became his gain of pride and control. Carving into your very personhood, marking you as something belonging to him.

Your opened your mouth, but whatever you intended to say was cut off by your small noise of surprise as you were pulled forward, in a manner that was somehow so gentle in touch, yet forceful enough to move your whole body towards his. His arm wrapped around your frame, the other positioning itself underneath your thighs before lifting you up and moving down to sit.

You fidgeted, tried to pull away — but his grip tightened, as much to secure you as it was a warning, telling you to hold still.

“It's for your sake. This will help you… you may not realize that yet, but you’ll thank me, I promise.”

His hands moved to your hips and turned you so that your back rested against his chest.

“As I was saying, you simply… build stress and neurosis, naturally. It's not your fault, really. You're just sensitive to changes, stressors... Every individual has at least some… defects in their nature.”

His hands retracted, and there was a brief rustling sound before they returned to your skin, now ungloved, flesh on flesh. The contact sent sparks through your nerves.

“That's why people pair with those they are compatible with. They fill each other's needs, compliment each other’s natures… I’m obligated to take those defects and resolve them.”

He gave you a smile — you couldn't see it, but could feel it as his lips pressed softly against your neck. Warm, full of sincerity and adoration.

“I wouldn’t do that if it weren’t out of care… and you in turn provide me with something that needs care and guidance. I enjoy having that.”

For all his attempts at soothing words and the gentleness of the touch, you knew in your heart that there was no doubt that that was part of the intent — to humble you, to tame you and make you docile, to make you submit. Forcing you to such a vulnerable state and inflicting reactions of pleasure was itself an act of exerting power and control.

It was, in a way, remarkable, that the human spirit could not only be broken by both brutal cruelty, but equally — or, perhaps even more effectively — eroded away with a gentle voice and touch, humiliation so deeply intertwined with affection that they became impossible to distinguish from each other, forming a unique sentiment that was both one and the other.

You were endearing to him, but that affection for you was like a venom that ran through your veins — an affection that diminished you, reduced you to some inhuman possession, a toy to be manipulated in any way he desired.

It made you feel sick. It made you feel angry, it tormented your psyche—

Your thoughts were turned to a haze as his fingers rolled your nipple between them. You inhaled a sharp gasp, back arching forward.

Processing your own reaction, embarrassment took place of the momentary pleasure, and your face felt hot. You reached an arm up instinctively to cover your breasts, pulling away from the touch.

“…We've had this conversation before, haven't we?” He reached up, grasping your jaw with a grip just firm enough to communicate a warning.

You swallowed and, albeit not without just a moment of hesitation, lowered your arm. You looked down, breasts now exposed fully. “I'm… sorry…”

He gave you a hum of approval, returning to the former fondling, fingers playing with the sensitive flesh. You bit your lip, breathing growing labored.

After a few minutes, his hands wandered downward, slowly, softly, down to your thighs, then back up over your hips, where they finally settled.

“Touch yourself.”

The command caught you off-guard. Your eyes widened. “…What?”

“Before I help you,” he murmured, “I want to see what you will do for me. That's only fair, don't you think?” He squeezed at your waist.

“Prove to me…” he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear, “that you know your place. Do as I say.”

You swallowed.

It was in your best interest to obey.

You reached down slowly, shivering as your fingers brushed over your clit. You pressed down, beginning to rub your outstretched fingers back and forth. With your other hand, you reached up, tweaking your nipple just enough to send pleasure through your nerves.

“There you go.” He pulled you a bit closer to him, so your bodies were firmly pressed together. He craned his neck, no doubt catching your abashed, embarrassed expression.

Not that he would give you any words of comfort on that matter, tell you not to feel embarrassed. He only smiled, grasping your hair and forcing your head to turn, pressing your mouth to his. It was only a short contact, parting with the softest of sounds.

His grip on your hip tightened, and you realized why he’d pulled back when he spoke.

“Don’t stop.”

You hadn’t realized you had, too focused on the slight surprise to being kissed. You took a shuddering breath, and resumed the motion. Your eyes closed, heightening your senses — the sensation of each touch and the shockwaves it sent through your core to every nerve in your body.

Your breathing quickly became labored. Even if you were inducing the sensation itself, it was good. You bit your lip as a soft, weak little sound came out of your throat, unable to refrain from vocalizing at the intensity of the feeling.

“Not just like that.” One of his hands reached down to your thigh, hand wrapping around the underside of it and pulling it to the side, spreading you open further. “Go on.”

“Mm…” You couldn’t summon any particular words, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations — the heat to your face and knot in your stomach at the shameless way your body was so exposed, at the feeling of being watched as if the act were a performance, and the haze of arousal that rapidly began to cloud your judgement, obscuring the feeling of discomfiture, drowning your inhibition.

Even without the pleasure compromising your hesitation, you didn’t want to think about the alternatives if you refused to obey — this was thus far, comparatively, far from the worst consequences you’d ever received for acting out.

You reached down further, pushing two of your fingers past the slick coating your flesh and inside your body, curling them into the spot that made you tense, made your muscles spasm, over and over, each movement sparking a rush that surged throughout your body.

Each breath was a deep gasp. Your toes curled, your muscles went taut and your insides clenched around your own fingers.

But something was missing.

It was pleasurable, but there just wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. The sensations were too weak.

Your body had been conditioned something more, and this was not comparable.

Sweat began to accumulate on your skin as you kept curling your fingers, desperately chasing a high. His arm moved from your hip to wrap around your waist, pressing another kiss to your neck.

You tried. Frustration began to build. Your eyes watered as you curled your fingers as hard as you could, pressed as far in as they would go, down to the knuckle.

It wasn’t deep enough.

It wasn't what you were used to. Your fingers were too short, just short of reaching that one perfect spot that made you lose yourself in pleasure, melting to a mewling mess.

You shuddered. You couldn’t reach a climax, no matter how hard you tried to focus. Even without orgasm, though, your exertion reached a peak you couldn’t carry on further from, and your fingers stopped moving as you went limp, trying to catch your breath, frustration and desperation nearly enough to make you cry. Your head fell back, eyes closed as you panted.

You could feel the corners of his mouth upturn against the flesh of your neck.

“…Is something wrong?”

Your jaw clenched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

That was the other goal of it, besides proving yourself to him — it was also to prove something to you. Something you didn’t want to admit out loud, something that made your chest swell with bitterness just to admit to yourself, much more so to do so aloud.

“I can’t… I can't do it.”

“Mm.” He pulled you further back against him. “Then, what do you need?”

The tingling sensation, the desperate need, the remnant frustration of lost pleasure, was too much to bear. You swallowed your pride, closing your eyes as you forced the words out.

“…I need you to do it…”

You were expecting him to say something in return, but for a moment, he was only quiet. He began to drum his fingers back and forth against your waist.

“Is that so?”

You nodded again, which seemed to be to his displeasure—

“Use your words.”

“Yes…” You swallowed.

You waited, but no touch came.

“Hm. How odd.” His voice was low and quiet, but unmistakably derisive. “You seemed to think you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself, running off like you did.”

Your eyes welled with tears. You shook your head back and forth, unable to bring yourself to speak.

“No?” His hand trailed downward until it ghosted over your sex, the lightest of touches, borderline torment. “Then, you can't do this for yourself?”

“…No…”

He moved his face even closer, speaking directly into your ear.

“Then what do you say? Tell me exactly what you need. Show me.”

You swallowed. The burning of humiliation in your chest was almost too much to bear. Had your insides not still been alight with the wavering, tight feeling of need, your pride would have outweighed your desire. But in that moment, it did not.

You spread your still-quivering legs wide apart.

“…Please touch me.”

“Mm. And what do you want from that? For how long?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I want to cum.”

Finally — finally — his fingers pressed down against your clit, enough pressure to send waves of pleasure up your spine.

“There, see…” He pressed another kiss to your face. “Aren't things so much easier when you just choose to be honest?”

You nodded. “Yes. I… I’m sorry…”

He gave a low hum of acknowledgement. “This stubbornness is just your nature.” His fingers slid back and forth, gracing the bundle of nerves with friction. “But that can be fixed.”

You bit your lip. “I… I’m not— ah—”

One motion of his hand was particularly firm, the sensation it sent through your nerves so intense it was almost painful. Your hands shot forward, grasping at his wrist.

It was only when the motion stopped that you realized you’d erred — it was a habit of reflexively grabbing at his hands when a sensation was too intense, trying to pry them off — something he very much did not like you doing.

Sure enough, he sighed, frustration blatantly evident. You jerked your hands away, but it was already too late to take back the first offense.

“…Now,” he started, “Can you refrain from doing that again, or do I need to bind them?”

“I…” you paused, realizing you genuinely needed to think it through. You weren’t certain if you could abstain.

You felt him shift back, leaning away from your body.

“Well, that’s enough of an answer itself.”

You heard the rustling of clothes, felt movement behind you, and you turned your head over your shoulder just in time to see as he pulled off first the top layer, then the undershirt over his head and off his body. You made a soft sound as he then pushed down on your back with a firm touch, forcing you to lean forward, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind your back — firmly, enough to be a clear message to not try to dissuade him, but your pride, weak as it was, still couldn't let it happen with no objection at all.

“Wait, wait, I can do it, I don't need—”

“This is for your sake. Hold still.”

“But I—”

“Be still.” He spoke firmly, but softened his voice as he continued, “It’s not your fault for having that reflex… but you have to train yourself against it. You want to be good, don't you?”

You shut your mouth, nodding as you sounded an answer. “Mm-hm…”

Cloth wrapped tightly around your wrists, using one sleeve to bind them together. Not enough of a bind that you couldn’t break out with some effort, but just enough to keep you from reflexively trying to interfere.

“Now where were we…”

You were pulled back once more, perhaps even closer. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

And his hand quickly moved back down, and the bliss of shockwaves of pleasures overcame you once more. You whimpered, biting your lip.

His fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing circles into the nub, and for a moment, your wrists jerked against the bind as the reflex kicked in. It was too much at once, but now, you were prevented from doing anything about it. As he began to rub in circular motions, your body shuddered, and an involuntary moan came out of your throat — a wanton, shameful sound, laced with pleasure and lust.

“There you go.” You could feel him speak, shuddering at the vibration of his chest against your back and the warm breath against your ear. His other hand rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb. “Give into it.”

Your body trembled against his touch, and jolted as his own fingers pressed inside of you. His were longer, and the touches firmer, and the result was a degree of pleasure you were simply incapable of replicating on your own.

As much as you hated it — hated to think it, hated to acknowledge it, hated to try and not acknowledge it as the reality prodded at the back of your mind — he made you feel better than anything you had ever experienced, better than anything you could ever make yourself feel.

You whimpered, toes and fingers curling. Your hips moved, a rolling motion to meet each pressing movement.

A singular motion, and singular sound, both of which you near-immediately caught yourself doing, having been too lost in the feeling to think clearly. You cut off your voice and went still, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t.” He didn’t stop moving his fingers as he spoke, instead pressing down with harsh force, essentially pulling you back closer to him with the hand partially inside you. “Holding yourself back like that is another form of dishonesty.”

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, but unable to form a response before he continued.

“And you wouldn’t want,” the fingers that had been gently tweaking at your breast pinched down hard, a momentary spark of pain and the lowering of his voice making you go tense, “to make this unpleasant because you couldn’t be good for me, would you?”

You shook your head back and forth with vigor. There were many punishments in your domestic repertoire that were unpleasant, and the thought of any of them made your heart skip a beat. “No, no, I don’t… want that…”

“Then you’re going to be honest, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I promise…”

“Mm.”

He kept rubbing his thumb against your clit, even in perfectly synched timing to each motion his fingers curled inward inside of you.

It was so pleasurable, so intense, it made you angry. Mad that he was capable of it, mad that his control over your body was greater than your own, and most of all, mad that he did it with such ease, effortless, that making you come undone entirely was something he mastered without ever being taught.

That pleasure began to build and build. You squirmed and whimpered, muscles throughout your body tensing and relaxing over and over. Your hips rolled into his hand. Each movement built the pressure in your body higher and higher, rapidly reaching a peak.

The edge that climax made you quiver, body and legs trembling.

“There it is…” his voice was so soft and gentle, soothing in a way it had no right to be.

The noise that came out of your mouth was nearly animal-like, a whimpering cry as you threw your head back, quivering and spasming. The waves of sensation pulsated throughout your body, reaching a peak and then beginning to ebb away.

You went limp, bodyweight falling back against his chest, heaving with heavy breaths. Your head felt as if it were spinning, and you stared forward in a dull stupor, body trembling with aftershock.

You twitched at the feeling of his fingers sliding out of you, with a wet squelching sound that made you shiver.

“Look at that…”

He spread his fingers apart, clear fluid forming a trail between them. You bit your lip, tilting your head downward in a futile attempt of avoidance of what you knew well came next — but that effort was quickly negated as he grabbed your jaw, turning your head back up and squeezing your face.

“Open.”

The force of the grip as he squeezed down more or less forced your jaw apart anyway. You didn't even get to take a breath before he pushed his fingers into your mouth, salty taste spreading over your tongue.

“Clean them off.”

Maybe it was a way of forcing you to acknowledge your own bodily reaction, even if you tried to deny it to yourself. Maybe it was much simpler than that — just another way to degrade you, or something simply arousing for him because it just was.

You complied nonetheless. Your tongue swirled around each finger, sucking and swallowing the taste of yourself. Even as he pulled his fingers back out, a string of saliva connected them to your tongue.

And then, after wiping his fingers off on the fabric around his thigh, he returned the arm to your waist, pulling you close, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“See… so much more at ease now, aren't you?”

That was one way to put it. You couldn't even bring words to your mind. Even processing what he said felt like a significant effort. Everything felt far away, your mind like a blank slate, numb and empty. Your body was even more exhausted, totally lax aside from involuntary twitches.

You made a soft sound as he turned your body to the side, just enough to look you face-to-face. Looking down at your watery eyes as they met his, the stupor in your expression, even as your brain began to clear, as if a machine turning back on after a few moments of darkness.

And he smiled. It was soft, full of endearment. And belittling. It was not made any better by the small chuckle he gave, patting the top of your head.

It burned in your chest, down into your stomach.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your lower lip quivered, an admittedly petulant pout. Shame formed a knot in your stomach. Disappointment in yourself, ending up like this again after swearing so many times over that this one would be the last, the last time you'd come apart so easily, the last time you'd find yourself spent and susceptible to the touch that seemed as if it were designed for your body.

And he laughed. An amused chuckle, patting your head.

“Mm. I had a feeling that wouldn't be quite enough.”

He leaned in, firmly grasping at your arms as you tried to squirm, bringing his mouth so close to yours, forehead resting against yours.

“But, that does admittedly work out for my sake.”

You grunted in surprise as he hooked his arm under your legs again, this time only lifting you just enough to set you down onto the padding of your bed, gently pushing on your shoulders until you were flat on your back, arched over your hands bound behind you.

“A-ah, I…” You swallowed, grasping at the sheets to the best of your ability. It was nothing you weren't anticipating, but the vulnerability made you tense.

It didn't help that he paused any motion, eyes trailing over your body, before reaching down and running his hands over your flesh, one moving to grip at your waist, the other your opposite hip. You couldn’t reach to cover yourself, forced to lay bare and vulnerable. Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, but firm hands grabbed at the undersides, pushing them apart and positioning himself between them so you couldn’t close them again.

The former act was not enough. Putting you through the ordeal of being made to wait in jail like a child in time-out was not enough, exposing your body was not enough, toying with your body and forcing an acknowledgement of his own control was not enough.

Your lip trembled.

But anger still pervaded through your negative emotions. It compelled your courage, you felt defiance surging up. You had to look him in the eye, tell him exactly what you felt, tell him you knew what he was doing and push him off, then, maybe then you'd have the satisfaction of some sense of control.

You could do it. You had to.

“You… you're just doing the same thing as before!” Your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re trying to, to—”

“Again with this?” He tilted his head. “I really wish you wouldn’t assume such ill intent. This is how people love each other… you know that.”

You bit your lip. You almost, for just a second, fell for it, almost felt guilty. You shook your head forcefully, clearing your mind of the thought.

“No, I won't let you—”

And with that, there was a rapid shift in expression. His eyes narrowed in a piercing, foreboding look. You went silent.

Your shoulders stiffened. The words came out on impulse, resolve of defiance broken as quickly as it had formed. “I'm— I'm sorry—”

Dammit.

For once, the dark expression did not shift back to pleasant as soon as you apologized — an indicator of having gone too far. His hand slowly reached up, this time not in a loving caress or gentle-but-firm grip, but outright harsh grip on your jaw.

“You…”

He tilted his head forward to more directly look you in the eye. His voice was low and cold, making your heart race further.

“Do not ‘let’ anyone do anything.”

His fingertips pressed into your flesh, squeezing your face between them.

“I know you understand your place. Don’t behave as if you don’t.” Finally, his voice softened as he finished, “I can’t help you if you keep fighting me every step of the way. So… you’ll control yourself, won’t you?”

You swallowed, nodding your head, twitching as the motion made his fingernails dig into your cheeks.

“You know I don’t like being so harsh with you, don’t you?”

You nodded again.

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Only for a short, chaste moment, but a slow, sensual motion nonetheless. You closed your eyes, tuning out the rustling clothes, heavily breathing with anticipation.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this. This whole ordeal has been stressful for me as well.”

You didn’t get time to ask what he meant — he rammed himself into you all at once, completely stuffing your body in one rough, forceful motion.

You cried out, back arching and body stiffening. You felt your insides clamp down, pulsating against the intrusion.

His hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding you still as the momentary sting ebbed away.

“There you go… calm down.”

You felt him slide out, then push back in, the latter movement sending sparks of sensation running up your spine, causing you to go tense all over again.

Your breathing became ragged, legs twitching and spasming at the sensation. You tried, without thinking, to snap them shut, but it only resulted in effectively squeezing his waist with you thighs.

The intensity of the sensation naturally induced a reflex of strain and exertion to your muscles, a need to channel the feeling through your body, causing your toes to curl, your thighs clamping down harder, quivering at the bare touch of flesh to flesh. You closed your eyes, but couldn't drown out the sound of skin making contact to yours, the sound itself increasingly accompanied by a wet squelching as skin met fluid with each passing second, leaking out of your body.

“You're so much more honest like this.” You could hear just the slightest strain in his voice, otherwise so very composed to perfection. “So meek… it's lovely. Once that resistance in you is fixed… you'll be perfect.”

You could see the corners of his mouth upturn into a look of amusement.

“You should see yourself.”

Your body stiffened, but all you could do was whimper. The words felt like a cold knife to the stomach — and you knew he knew that. Knew that that moment was you at your must vulnerable, the peak of awareness of your own helplessness, the moment you felt the most degraded, and yet, it still wasn't enough.

He leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, so close you could feel the warmth as he spoke, never ceasing to move all the while.

“Whimpering and drooling like that,” he murmured. “You're trembling… and that expression on your face is so adorable. Like you can't even think straight.” He leaned back up, enough to look you in the eye — now welling with tears.

And again, he only smiled.

“How precious.”

His hands ran down your body, grabbed at your hips, and began to pull you, jerking your body back and forth to meet his own movements.

It was too much. Even with the knot of emotion in your stomach, you felt a hot, tingling pressure build in your body. Your legs quivered, the wanton little sounds from your throat higher and higher.

You didn't want that. It was the final part of this ritual that so demeaned you, one more confirmation of his control of you. You pressed your hands into the mat, trying to push yourself back — but it was only met with a harsh pull, forcing your body back until you practically slammed against his hips.

“Don't fight.”

It was the last thing you heard. You threw your head back as the sensation became overwhelming, back arching and eyes rolling back as the feeling reached a peak. You could only faintly register the high-pitched sound that sounded as if it couldn't be you, a voice you didn't recognize.

And then it began to ebb away. A hazy stupor filled the void as the pleasure dissipated, a feeling of exhaustion. Your weight went limp.

You made a soft sound as he grasped your jaw again, turning your head just enough to place another kiss to your lips.

“There you go. Look at you now… all that stress and in you, totally gone. You can see it in your eyes, even.”

He paused before adding,

“Well, gone for now. I'll have to start monitoring for it more closely.”

You shuddered at the sensation as he slid out of you, fluid spilling out onto the sheets.

You felt him reach behind you, untying your wrists — you brought your arms to the front of your body, but the forearms only laid useless, having fallen asleep from your weight.

He came to rest beside you, upper body slightly propped up on his elbow, head resting in his hand, looking down at you with adoration and endearment.

And you were so, so weak. So much weaker than you wished you were, body, mind and spirit alike. So weak that, in the rush of emotions that followed, you found yourself slowly crawling forward, burying your face against his chest with a pathetic little noise.

“Poor thing. Maybe that was a bit too much for you…”

His arm reached behind your back and pulled you close, and the comfort you felt seemed to melt your mind into nothingness.

“You should rest for a while,” he continued, “then we'll get you cleaned off. We have a few hours before you'll need to be ready.”

After a moment to process the words, you tilted your head up with the softest of inquisitive noises. The cold, creeping dread began to spread through your stomach once more.

He seemed to realize, then, that you didn’t understand.

“Ah, right, you wouldn't have known.” He reached out with the hand he wasn’t leaning on, brushing his fingers over your scalp. “While you were gone, I sent someone to arrange a house visit with a psychiatrist… a private one that works for families such as ours.”

His words certainly didn’t help soothe your nerves. Your mouth felt dry. Your voice came out weak, hesitant, part of you not wanting to ask, lest you learn an unpleasant answer.

“…Why?”

He tilted his head in just the slightest, loose strands of hair shifting and waving with the motion. “Well, keeping your needs in check does help with your condition, but I’ve realized it would do you good to have a secondary means to treat your hysteric tendencies as well.”

“My…” You swallowed. “My what?” The words slowly pieced together in your mind, hitting you with a sense of dread and confusion. You squirmed backwards, shifting just a bit away from him. “There's… nothing wrong with me…”

“Of course, of course, there’s nothing wrong, that’s…” He spoke in a reassuring sort of tone, as if to comfort you. “…A harsh choice of phrasing. You just need some help, is all.” After a moment of pause, he added, “don't worry, it's perfectly normal that you aren't self-aware of it. That's usually how these illnesses work.”

His arm reached out further, pulling you back towards him, pressing your bodies together before he continued.

“He’s just required to see you in-person for a little while before giving you anything. Regulations and all. We’re just going to get you something to make you a little more… docile.”

His arm wrapped around your body, and he pulled his head back just a bit to look you in the eye, smiling with endearment.

“Ah, I can tell by your face that you’re nervous. Don’t worry, I'll be there throughout the whole thing… I'll answer any questions, you just sit there quietly, alright?” He pulled you a bit closer, planting an affectionate, short kiss to the top of your head. “I know that sort of thing is a lot on your nerves.”

If your trembling could be felt, he didn’t say anything about it, only carrying on with his gently-spoken words.

“We won’t have to worry about you having these… irrational escapades anymore. And you’ll be so much happier, too.”

You felt his hand on your back, firmly in place — you were pressed so close together that there was no need to pull you any closer, but perhaps he wanted to be sure you couldn’t pull away.

“So… rest for now, alright?”

Mind and heart alike racing, in your stupor, you let the pause linger for too long. The hand on your back began to close in on itself, fingernails brushing against your skin just enough to send the faintest of pains up your spine.

You had no strength left in you to give anything other than the correct answer.

“Okay...”

He only gave you a hum of acknowledgement, and began to stroke your back up and down, a pattern that should have been comforting and soothing, yet was anything but. Exhaustion wore on your body, but even as you forced yourself to close your eyes, true rest was nowhere to be found.

#awful men portraying themselves as selfless/benevolent >>>>>#genshin smut #.ay

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the-gay-trashmouth · 3 months ago

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I think something that's bothers me about how folks talk about mouthwashing is how they talk about Swansea. It's either "Swansea would have killed Jimmy immediately if Anya had told him" or "he knew and he did nothing just like curly." because, to me at least it leaves out a lot of nuance to his character and situation. Curly and Swansea are really good foils to each other, one who's got a reputation for being the kind and helpful captain but in the end does nothing to truly protect the crew from Jimmy, and one who's gruff, harsh, and cruel but genuinely tries to help in the background, the reliable mechanic.

(read more for a long Mouthwashing character ramble tw for unwanted pregnancy and SA)

Because Curly is the one with the power. He doesn't take what Jimmy did seriously enough. And you can say that he might not have known fully what Jimmy did, but I think the "I told you" pregnancy conversation and his reaction to Jimmy right before the crash ("come on we'll get through this together. We'll figure it out, you've had hard times before-") are indicators that he knew, but he still chose to stick by his friend and treat it like a "mistake" rather than what it really was.

Now that's my own personal speculation of course, there's no outright scene of her telling him "your best friend assaulted me", but I think there's enough evidence in game through Anya and Curlys interactions to say that he knew, and he knew before Anaya knew she was pregnant. He had a fully functioning ship and four fully functional cryo-pods. He could have at least given Anya more security, kept her far away from him, and at most forced him into the cryopod until they got back to earth. Jimmy STILL had full, uncontrolled access to the cockpit AFTER his freakout with curly. AFTER Anya tells curly she doesn't feel safe with him. AFTER Curly finds out he raped Anya. He's so focused on seeing the good in his friend that he does NOTHING to protect Anya, doesn't strip away not one of Jimmy powers as copilot and consequently endangers her and the rest of the crew.

Curly was the captain, he had the power to relegate Jimmy to the fucking storage closet if he really wanted, at least put him in the cryopod until they got back to earth. In fact, he was the only person above Jimmy in terms of rank on the ship, but he chose to do nothing. He chose to let Jimmy continue as acting co-pilot, chose to comfort him rather than actually confront him. Slides off his weird sexual comments as jokes "So what's this about horses?"

Now let's compare that to Swansea, the mechanic.

We don't have any evidence that Swansea knew about what Jimmy did until after the crash ("it's been her telling me things") where they were trapped with no captain, barely any rations, and a single cryopod that he kept hidden away in the one room he had the key too (and the only room that could lead into medbay). He didn't use it for himself, he makes it clear he didn't intend on getting off this hunk of metal in his last few conversations with Jimmy.

Swansea as the ship's mechanic, was used to fixing things in the background. He didn't need to get along with anyone to keep the ship running, he didn't need people to like him to keep them safe. We see that with Daisuke. He's harsh on him, for sure, but he leaves constant notes to help him learn. Genuinely tries to keep him out of harm's way when it comes to more dangerous jobs. We know Anya was scared of Jimmy getting a weapon, she hid the gun case in the medical bay even knowing she would never get it open. We can see Swansea and Anya off on their own towards the first days after the crash, and Swansea still has a tight grip of the axe weeks and months later.

I personally think that was him trying to keep Jimmy from having access to a weapon. The only time Jimmy gets the axe while Swansea is alive is when Anya Specifically asks him to use it to get medical supplies. I don't think that's a coincidence.

Swansea, like any good mechanic, was quietly trying to keep things running out of Jimmy's sight. It's not until everyone is dead or dying that he snaps, that he finally takes direct action. But it was too little too late.

Both Curly and Swansea thought they were doing the right thing, helping in their own way. Curly genuinely wanted to see the good in Jimmy, wanted it to just be some challenge they could overcome, but in doing so he failed to see the monster right in front of him. He had all the power (in context of the crew, the company is a whole other can of worms I have so many other thoughts on), but he was too afraid to use it. Hell, he was DISCOURAGED to use it if the memo about HR complaints are anything to go by. Swansea, on the other hand, never trusted Jimmy, never even really liked him, but he didn't want to make anything worse either. He didn't know what would actually set Jimmy off, or what he was capable of, and aside from just straight up killing him what else could he do that wouldn't just push Jimmy further off the edge? Like with the foam. "One wrong move and you'll rip this ship a new asshole", he worked carefully, hiding the last pod from Jimmy, keeping the only other weapon on himself, guarding the only other entrance into Medbay, but Jimmy was escalating quickly. He underestimated how far Jimmy was willing to go, just like Curly had, and in the end suffered the consequences.

The only character who actually understood how dangerous and unstable Jimmy was is Anya. She knew the moment she found out she was pregnant he would hurt her ("you won't let me protect myself"). He wouldn't be able to take it, he would do something drastic. She knew he was escalating the longer they were stranded. Anya is the only crew member who truly understood how dangerous Jimmy was and took direct action.

And interesting thing to me is that she doesn't just kill herself. She locks herself in the medbay. She could have waited for Jimmy to sleep, or locked herself in the cockpit, but she locked herself in the medbay with Curly. She knows that with her gone there would be no one left to take care of him, she knew Jimmy would continue to escalate his abuse, and with her gone all of his anger and fear and guilt would turn on Curly.

And wouldn't you know it? She was right. Without Anya to stop him, he takes curly out of the bed, forces him upright into the cryopod, and forces a man with no skin, no arms, no legs, and infected tissues to be frozen for 20 years while the rest of his crew Rot. And that's only what we know to be reality- if any of his delusions had some basis in reality he could have done so so much more. Anya is the Only one to take reasonable, direct action to keep herself, and then Curly, safe.

But she didn't have enough power over Jimmy to truly protect herself. She didn't have the code to the gun case, she didn't have a weapon or a rank to fall back on. She was outnumbered by men who she knew from experience either wouldn't or couldn't keep her safe, and she was heavily pregnant with a baby she didn't want and most likely couldn't even get enough nutrients to sustain either her or the fetus. She was physically weakened and trapped in a stranded ship with her abuser with no way home and a medical miracle (curse) in Curly.

This game is a really good reflection of reality, in my opinion as an abuse survivor. Some people will see them as "one of the boys" and constantly excuse or downplay their actions (Curly), some people will do small things in the background, recognize the abuse and disprove, but don't want to get in the way or make things worse (Swansea), and some people are just straight up oblivious/naive (Daisuke). But in the end, it's the system that allows abuse and incentives coverups to keep peace or save face that really allows abuse to fester and escalate.

Which is why I personally have a problem with the idea that Anya should have just Told A Different Man because it ignores the very real chain of power and her own agency in her story, AS WELL AS the idea that Swansea and Diasuke knew but didn't care because that's just not reflective of real life. Not every man is some rapist apologist who doesn't care what abusers do until it happens to them, some people just don't know what to do, or don't have any good options that wouldn't result in further abuse. Hell some people just don't even fucking notice! Not everyone has had exposure to the signs or knows what to look for.

It's easy when looking at fictional depictions of abuse to say "well if I was there I would have just punched him/killed him/called the police" but real life, in that moment, its never going to be clear cut. You can call out abuse, but that might just lead to that abuser taking it out on their abuse victim later. They could even start to target you for daring to speak out, or try to hurt you and cut you off from the person being abused. You can know all the right steps and the right programs, but in the moment, when faced with a real situation where someone could get hurt or even killed? You stumble. You think things over, you don't try and make any direct moves that would set their abusers off. Sometimes that's a good instinct, and sometimes that just lets abuse escalate. It's never a good situation, and it's never actually anyone's fault but the abusers. And this way of thinking also conveniently leaves out the survivor of this abuse, and portrays them as someone who needs to be saved, rather than someone who needs support and resources to save themselves. It also very conveniently lets the company that Put Anya in this situation in the first place get off Scott free.

The solution isn't "oh one of the men on board should have personally killed Jimbo and saved Anya all by himself" its "Anya deserved the support of her crewmates instead of being forced into close proximity with her rapist and also maybe Jimmy shouldn't have access to the fucking controls or medbay or any weapons- AND ALSO the crew shouldn't have financial incentives not to report things to HR"

#yall thought this was a curly and swansea analysis?#nope got distracted with Anya #my beloved 😔💕#i just dont like the very black and white analysis ive seen going around #the nuance of this game and their situation is truly the best part #i also think the men of the crew and centered too much in discussions of Anyas assault #mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #stari wont shut up #yall take a shot everytime i said escalate wtf #read a thesaurus or something me. damn

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literaryvein-reblogs · 1 month ago

Note

How would you go about writing someone with mental issues? Conditions like schizofrenia?

There is a lot of awful takes that essentially end up being caricatures while actual people wity the condition are often quite chill. It's difficult to do them justice while also not being able to fully understand how it is

Writing about Mental Health Conditions

Questions to Ask When Reporting on Mental Health

Is mental illness relevant to this story? If not, there is no need to mention it.

What is your source? Don’t rely on hearsay to report that a person has a mental illness. If you are reporting on a specific condition, make sure you are talking to a mental health professional to provide the facts. Mental health organisations like the APA can connect you with experts to discuss a wide range of mental health and substance use disorders, as well as the medications and techniques used to treat them.

What is the most accurate language to use? See below for advice about language that is specific and avoids derogatory terms.

Choose Your Words Carefully

The words you use to write about mental health are very important, and can help reduce stigma around mental illness if carefully chosen.

ONE. Focus on the person, not the condition. The basic concept is that the mental health condition (or physical or other condition) is only one aspect of a person’s life, not the defining characteristic.

Preferred: She is a person with schizophrenia.

Not preferred: She is schizophrenic.

TWO. Be specific. Mental illness is a general condition. Specific disorders are types of mental illness and should be used whenever possible (see below for a brief list and definitions of common disorders).

Preferred: He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder

Not preferred: He was mentally ill

THREE. Avoid derogatory language. Terms such as psycho, crazy and junkie should not be used. In addition, avoid words like “suffering” or “victim” when discussing those who have mental health challenges.

Preferred: She has a mental health illness. She has a substance use disorder.

Not preferred: She suffers from mental illness. She’s a drug abuser.

Common Mental Health Terms

The following are definitions of some of the most common mental health disorders. For more complete descriptions, consult Understanding Mental Disorders: Your Guide to DSM-5 or the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

Addiction - a chronic brain disease that causes compulsive substance use despite harmful consequences.

Alcohol and Substance Use Disorders - the overuse of alcohol or drugs leading to effects that are detrimental to the individual’s physical and mental health, or the welfare of others.

Autism Spectrum Disorders - a range of complex developmental disorders that can cause problems with thinking, feeling, language and the ability to relate to others.

Bipolar Disorder - (also commonly known as manic depression) is a brain disorder that causes shifts in a person’s mood, energy and ability to function.

Depression - a common and serious medical illness that causes feelings of sadness and/or a loss of interest in activities once enjoyed; it can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems.

Eating Disorders - illnesses in which people experience severe disturbances in their eating behaviors and related thoughts and emotions; anorexia nervosa, bulimia nervosa and binge eating disorder are the three main types.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) - an anxiety disorder in which people have recurring, unwanted thoughts, ideas or sensations (obsessions) that make them feel driven to do something repetitively (compulsions).

Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) - a psychiatric disorder that can occur in people who have experienced or witnessed a traumatic event such as a natural disaster, a serious accident, a terrorist act, war/combat, rape or other violent personal assault.

Schizophrenia - a chronic brain disorder with symptoms that can include delusions, hallucinations, trouble with thinking and concentration, and lack of motivation.

Facts about Mental Illness

Misconceptions and myths about mental health are unfortunately common. The following are a few facts about mental illness in the United States, as well as key resources for the latest statistics on mental health:

In any given year, more than 1 in 5 adults in the U.S. has a diagnosable mental disorder.

One in 20 adults has a serious mental illness.

One in 6 adults has a substance use disorder (including alcohol use disorder).

Half of all chronic mental illness begins by age 14.

Suicide is the 11th leading cause of death for all ages and the second leading for people ages 10 to 34. It is more common than homicide.

Most people with mental illnesses are no more likely to be violent than those without a mental health disorder. In fact, people with a mental health disorder are at significantly higher risk of becoming victims of violence compared to the general population

Excerpted from The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH):

Write often about mental health challenges—the greater awareness generated about mental health, the more chance there is of helping people who have problems associated with these illnesses.

Let us know if you are looking for story ideas—we have lots of them and would be more than happy to share these ideas with you (you can find their contact details here).

We are asking for your help in reducing the stigma around mental illness including addiction because stigma is a huge problem for people living with mental illness.

We can accomplish this by dispelling some of the negative stereotypes that follow people who have mental illness such as: people with mental illness including addictions are all potentially violent and dangerous; are somehow responsible for their condition; and have nothing positive to contribute.

Labels matter. Don’t describe a person with a substance use disorder as a “heroin addict,” “drug user,” or “alcoholic.” Defining a person by their disorder makes the disorder become that person’s “master status”—the reader or viewer will only see the person as defined by the illness not by who they really are as an individual.

Help reduce stigma by not leaving the person out when describing an individual. When a person is called a schizophrenic, the reader will only see the disorder and conjure up mental images that are likely negative and stereotypical. The same can be said for a person who is called a “manic-depressive or a "depressed person.” Chances are they could be receiving treatment for these symptoms and are in fact not feeling depressed at all.

Exploring Mental Health in Fiction

As fiction writers, we take normal, everyday conflict and crank it up to a 10 to make our stories compelling.

In a mental health focused novel, it’s the absence of and quest for mental health that’s the meat of the story, the source of the conflict at its heart.

What drives the plot is not what happens in the story, but the interplay between external factors and the hero’s response to them.

There are dos and don’ts to writing about neurodivergence or mental illness that will make your characters and their struggles ring true—not flat and stereotypical.

Origin of Your Character’s Mental Health Issue. This can be rich in terms of your story creation. Even if you only hint at it in the narrative, as an author, you need to understand the root cause of your character’s struggle before you decide what the manifestation will be. Family quirks, trauma, relocation, immigration—all of these can impact mental health.

Your Own Past and Life and Family. The old write-what-you-know adage can prove fertile ground for character development.

Understand the Role Mental Health Will Play in Your Story. Is the story about mental illness? Based on something very familiar that you know well? Is the book set in a psychiatric hospital? Is the condition a side issue, a challenge that makes your protagonist’s life a little more complicated?

Be Accurate and Avoid Stereotypes. If you are not writing something autobiographical, drawing on your own personal experiences, make sure to do your research. Interview people, read articles by and about those with the psychological challenges you intend to feature. Make sure to keep it three-dimensional, even if your book is about being mentally ill. No one is just depressed or just anxious. No character is the sum of their quirks and ticks. Make sure any character with a mental health issue is well-rounded and interesting in other ways.

Don’t Be Afraid to Lean Into the Humor. Par for the course with mental health issues are misadventures, foibles, and overcorrects that can end in comically disastrous results. As long as readers can laugh with rather than at the mix-ups, it’s all good. In fact, if everything we wrote about mental health were tragic, if everything we wrote about trauma were traumatic, the work would be pretty hard to stick with as a reader or as a writer. Whatever story structure you employ—classic three-act, spiral, or what have you—a well-drawn main character is essential. The interplay between the self (Passenger B for example), her circumstances (air turbulence), and others in her life (the frightened son and the maddeningly calm Passenger A) creates conflict, obstacles to resolution. Your hero’s place on the mental health continuum gives her texture and relatability. Her mess-ups, embarrassments, and misunderstandings are what resonate for readers and make your work thrilling, agonizing, and yes—satisfyingly fun!

Characters with Mental Illness. The megalomaniacal CEO. The sociopathic killer. The suicidal teen. The anxious woman self-medicating with booze and pills while caring for her demented mother. As writers, we invite these characters into our stories because they are true-to-life and because their psychological problems invite curiosity and compassion.

To avoid stereotyping and caricature—and to keep your story believable—try these 5 strategies and tips:

Make the character relatable. Although common, mental illness is not the norm, so characters with such disorders, especially psychoses, are imbued with “otherness.” The writer must provide a way for the reader to relate to the character despite the illness and because of it.

Keep the narrative front and center. Stories work best when they are spun around a person and a set of relationships, not an illness. Even “issues books” are successful only when the story focuses on what happens to a particular cast of characters. Mental illness can be debilitating and all-consuming, but it does not define a person. That job still rests with the writer.

Balance internal and overt symptoms and behavior. The internal world of a mentally ill person is fascinating but can readily overwhelm the reader. It doesn’t take pages of suicidal ideation, obsessive thoughts or internal word salad to deliver the message of an altered mental state. Go easy on the subjective "craziness" and opt instead to show how others are reacting (or not) to what is going on inside the ill person’s head. Also, not all mentally ill people have insight; they don’t necessarily know that their behavior and thoughts are abnormal. Obviously, if the person doesn’t realize they are ill, or if they become confused about it, then they might be an unreliable narrator. This can be a powerful tool but it is important to know upfront what relationship your character has with his or her illness, how that affects the interplay of external and internal worlds and the access others have to the character’s problems. It can be as complicated as you wish, but don’t leave the reader behind.

Specify the disorder, at least in your head. Generalized “craziness” does not exist. A mental illness can elude diagnosis, or have a complicated diagnosis, but as a writer, you should try to pinpoint the disorder, even if your character is never properly diagnosed. Why? Disorders are defined by specific behaviors and cognitive flaws, so the more you narrow down the diagnosis, the more you know about how your character might behave, feel and think. For example, mania is evidenced in several disorders, including bipolar disorder, drug-related disorders, and some sub-types of schizophrenia. Knowing the underlying problem has ramifications for your character’s other behavior, their prognosis, treatment, and whether the problem might have a genetic component.

Get the details right. For instance, relief via medication, if it comes, can begin after 2 weeks but the maximum effect can take 8 weeks. Details like this matter not just because they satisfy knowledgeable readers but also because spreading misinformation about mental illness does everyone a disservice. Mental health is a rapidly changing field, so ensure your information is correct for your time period. Terminology, diagnosis, treatment options, and prognosis can be vastly different from one decade to the next.

Fortunately, there are resources at your disposal:

Consult the relevant version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM), the official guide to mental disorders. The American Psychological Association updates it periodically, so use the one corresponding to your setting.

The National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) is also an excellent resource;

Seek out mental health professionals and those who have first-hand experience with the disorder (patients and/or loved ones) to lend authentic details;

Visit online forums, but be discreet, respectful, and appropriately cautious.

As with all research, don’t rely on a single source.

The credibility of your story is worth the extra time it takes to gain a deeper understanding of your mentally ill characters.

Knowledge, profound knowledge, engenders respect and compassion, two traits we all could use more of, both as writers and as people.

Writing about Your Own Mental Health

Writing about mental health is one thing, but making yourself vulnerable and disclosing your own illness, especially a serious one, is another.

First-hand accounts, though, are essential in making this national discourse authentic and true to life.

Writing to explain your experience to someone else can help you understand it better as well, leading to additional closure.

Writing fosters personal sense-making, especially when you learn how to reframe your experience more positively.

Exploring meaning in your traumatic experience through writing can mark a turning point in your recovery.

Your increased awareness and articulation of feelings and thoughts can be beneficial to others who may be going through a similar experience.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Thanks for the question. This is important to write about. All the best with your writing!

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misstycloud · 2 years ago

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Bear hybrid

Synopsis: you were on your way to work, when suddenly a bear-hybrid sees you. The look in his eyes says everything you need to know. Not wanting to spend the rest of your life as someone’s possession, you bolt. Too bad he won’t let you get away a second time.

——

Ugh, another long day ahead of me.

You thought tiredly. The long shifts at the diner you worked at really took its toll on you. If you could, you’d quit. But free time wasn’t worth getting starved.

You sighed and stared down at the gum stuck onto a trash can. There was a hint of pale pink on it, signaling the colour it originally was.

Gum sticking to practically every surface in the subway station wasn’t the only defects. There were plastic cups, cigarettes, paper towels and a lot more unidentified items scattered freely.

Frankly, it was disgusting. If the government spent less on hybrid establishment improvement and more on the condition of public spaces, the maybe it wouldn’t look like shit everywhere.

You felt like a shitty person for thinking such things, hybrids have endured thousands of things in the past and now with modern development, they can finally lead satisfactory lives.

However, the government have begun to focus all their attention to the welfare of hybrids and neglecting humans in the process. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that. Still, one couldn’t help what they felt.

It’s not like you disliked hybrids, yet you did not love them either. You were neutral in that department. There were still humans with the old views, but they weren’t as many anymore or they simply didn’t run around telling people since it wouldn’t be very well received. The biggest problem and maybe the only problem you had with hybrids were their mating culture.

Clearly, no one in the relationship had a choice(not that they complained) and suddenly you’re supposed to be together until you die.

And now that they’re allowed to mate with humans legally, there is little that can stop them from forcing their human partner from submitting to their will; living and accept them as a lifelong partner. Despite protests against this done by humans the government refuses to acknowledge the issue and address it since that would be considered antagonizing parts of the hybrids’ culture.

It was wrong to force someone into a relationship they clearly express they didn’t want, unfortunately the animal-hybrids do not care for unwanted courting and do what they want anyway.

You shuddered at the thought of being mated to one of those creatures. It must be hell. Especially if you already have a partner previous to meeting them. Hybrids did not take kindly to those who might come between them and their mate. It wasn’t unusual to see news cover horrific deaths with the culprit being a hybrid ‘protecting’ their mate.

The train arrived and you made an annoyed face at how crowded it was. What felt like hundreds of people were squeezed into one cart, rubbing against each other and breathing as one being, making it incredibly warm inside.

You grabbed a pole with your right hand, trying to steady yourself and also liking to have something solid ground you. You’ve seen way to many consequences of people not holding on to anything while standing.

It was uncomfortable. Arms and elbows poked you from all sides, and two teenagers were talking way beyond the proper volume in such a cramped space. You couldn’t wait to get off.

Suddenly, commotion stole your attention elsewhere. Sounds of irritated folk earned everyone’s stares. You heard men and women alike, complaining about movement and pushing.

“Hey, stop pushing me!”

“Don’t look at me, it’s someone else!”

“Alright, who is then?”

Angry remarks were thrown. Not that you could blame them. The uncomfortable ride paired with lack of oxygen were not suited for enjoyable time.

An apologetic voice exclaimed, “Sorry! I need to get through, it’s important. Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your toes!”

Eyes widening and mouth nearly falling wide open, you turn to see the biggest man you’ve ever seen! His form was easily towering above all others, making you think that he was part of the reason why the train cart was so crowded.

The ginormous man had dark brown hair reaching his broad shoulders, the locks were messy and thick, slightly falling in front of his eyes.

What stood out the most however wasn’t his unnatural size. It was the pair of two brown, rounded ears atop his head.

It instantly hit you. The inhuman height was because he wasn’t human at all. He was a hybrid. A bear one at that! One of the most dangerous hybrids there is. While they might not attack unless provoked or caught off guard, meeting one is definitely something most would avoid.

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest when the bear-man’s eyes connected with yours. They were an odd amber colour, you noticed.

Fuck! You shouldn’t have looked his way.

And like the dumbass wannabe-dead, something in your brain forces your gaze back up and you freeze. The look on his face when he sees you. The look. It was the look.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This could not be happening. It was obvious what was happening. You’d heard about it. On TV. From friends. Seen it in real life. There was no way you could be someone’s mate. Not when you’d spent so many nights praying it wasn’t your fate, since you didn’t want to end up like those humans you’ve heard about.

Well now you knew why he was causing a disturbance on the train. It was to get to you. A hybrid can easily smell its mate hundreds of meters away. He must have smelt you the second you got on that train and gone searching for you.

A squeak escaped your lips as you saw him waving at you while attempting to close the distance. Of course it did not go fast because of all the people between you.

No. You refused to be chained down to some animal. You had to get out. And as if someone above heard you, you heard the train voice speak, “Station X.”

That was your station.

The hybrid seemed to have noticed someone was off, he observed your face before glancing at the approaching platform. Then it clicked in his head.

“No, wait!”

Too late. You were already bolting out the doors, listening to angry comments after you. You only had time to rush a hasted ‘sorry’ before making it on the platform. The man did not have the same luck.

“Don’t go! Please! Don’t leave! No. ”

He desperately tried to shove passed all the passengers to get to the doors, but there was no time left and the doors closed shut before he managed to reach within one meter of them. The wheels of the train were rolling the connected vehicles away.

You had no interest to stay and watch, though. You still had a job to go to and you couldn’t afford to be late, or else your boss would scold you fiercely again.

Half running and half jogging, you hurried to the diner while in deep thought. Had you lost him? Maybe, but probably not forever. As hybrid will stop at nothing to find their mate once they’ve entered their sights.

‘Fuck. My. Life. ‘

The next station the train would stop at was a bit away, so perhaps you were lucky this time? If you were careful from now on and don’t go out as much, then you could possibly avoid being found. Also, your work place was somewhat far from the subway.

If you saved up a bit, then you could also by a scent-masking spray to hide yourself further. Although it was risky to do that. Because hybrids need a fair chance of finding their mate, masking spray became forbidden after people started using it to avoid hybrids. So now the only place you can buy it is from shady markets or people who may or may not want to steal your kidneys. Besides all that, it was very costly too.

You dragged a hand through your hair and heaved a deep sigh. What were you going to do?

“Y/N stop daydreamin’ an get back ta work!” Your boss yelled and slapped you harshly on the back. He always did that. You were sure he got a kick out of messing with you.

Massaging your shoulder you answered, “Sorry boss…”

The diner wasn’t too busy so you had no idea of why he tried to rush you. Sure, there were some customers here and there filling the tables, but you weren’t so understaffed that you’d have to aprint around like a maniac trying to get everyone’s orders.

Approaching a table with customers, you put on you employe smile, “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

The man looked at the menu an extra time to finalise his decision, “I’ll have the chicken pasta with sundries tomatoes and red wine, can we also order some garlic bread?”

“Yes,” you wrote down the dishes on your small notepad and turned your attention to the woman sitting across him, “and you, ma’am?”

No answer.

“Ma’am?”

But she wasn’t paying any attention to you. It was as if you didn’t even exist, looking passed you like air with wide eyes. Finding this weird you turned back to her husband. Feeling your gaze he chuckled awkwardly.

“Honey? Aren’t you going to order?” She still didn’t respond which forced her husband to see whatever she was focusing so intently on.

It was then you realised they weren’t the only ones acting unusual. In fact, everyone inside the establishment had their eyes turned in the same direction. You swung around to witness the horror.

There, in the resturant entrance stood he. His form created the illusion of the door being as insignificant as an ant. With heavy breath and droplets of sweat collecting on his forehead, he frantically whirled around until he noticed you.

Dropping your notepad and hand clasping over your mouth, you thought ‘fuck, so I didn’t get rid of him?’

Okay, even though it was kinda delusional to believe you could shake him off easily without consequences, you were still surprised he found you so quickly. The hybrid wiped his eyes and it was then you noted the redness surrounding them, an obvious sign of crying.

He stumbled forward, “There you are, I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find you!”

Suddenly you were the centre of attention.

“W-what….?” Backing, you feigned ignorance.

“You saw me on the train earlier, I tried to stop you getting off but you took off without warning…” he hung his head in despair.

Yeah, guess why?

“You should leave..”

“Huh? No, I can’t g-“ the hybrid rushed.

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” The voice of your boss interrupted. With a deep scowl he paraded into the scene but crossed his arms in a defensive stance as soon as he laid eyes in the bear-man. His eyes ran up and down the bear’s large form. “W-whatddya you want?” Your boss’ gruff voice sounded unusually weak. “If there’s any trouble I’ll ‘ave ta call the cops, ya got me?” He said despite appearing like a newborn deer.

A bewildered expression crossed the tall man’s face, “No I’m not here to cause anything! I’m here for someone!” He explained while waving his arms, trying to signal peace. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect, the humans in the diner cowered lightly at the gesture and he instantly stopped. “Sorry…” he whispered and suddenly he looked ashamed.

Your boss cleared his throat, “Alright. Who ya ‘ere for?” He’d make that person goes with the scary man to make him leave as soon as possible. Not that he’d admit it, but he never liked those hybrid people. They just seemed unreliable it all. Nothing to be trusted. With their animal intincts present and sharp teeth, he couldn’t allow them to be in his resturant. He hadn’t the courage to blatantly kick them out or shout in their faces but he could at least give them what they wanted to make them lose interest as fast as possible.

The bear’s gaze searched yours and your boss put two and two together. “Oi, Y/N, come ‘ere. Someone’s looking for ya!” The man pulled your collar to drag you forward, earning a small frown from the hybrid but it vanished just as quickly.

You refused to look at him, keeping your attention to the floor and praying for him to go away. A rough hand carressed your cheek and you flinched and after hestitation it pulled away.

“Won’t my mate look at me..?” A saddened voice said.

A twinge of guilt started brewing in your mind but you pushed it down. “I see this is new to you-being human and all, haha.” He tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Umm…you know what this is though? Me seeing you and then following you here must be creepy, haha- but it’s not I promise! I just want to love you. Because we’re,” he giggled, “mates!” He happily sighed. “And you know what that is, right? If you don’t it’s fine, I’ll tell you. Being mates is loving someone no matter what, be it looks or personality nothing is important. Mates take care of each other, providing for your mate and making them happy is the best feeling in the world! There doesn’t exist anything that can compare!- not that I know that personally or anything since I haven’t had a mate before but I’ve heard from all my friends who have mates. Oh, I’m so jealous of them whenever I see them together with their mates doing fun things. Though it doesn’t really matter what you’re doing as long as it’s with your ma-“

“Please stop!” You yell, several customers flinched at your tone, not that you cared anymore. Having to listen to his constant talk about being mates had brought you over your boiling point. The man silenced at your exclamation. “Sorry, but I don’t give a shit about all this mate stuff or whatever- it doesn’t mean anything to me so please leave! I’m sorry that this isn’t what you want to hear but I have no interest in being your mate, not now, not ever.” You pointed at the door. “So go.”

The hybrid was stunned and stood quiet, appearing hurt. Then your boss promptly spoke, “Y/N, you shouldn’t speak to someone like that! Especially someone who loves you so much!”

“Huh?” What the hell was he going on about? He never cared for hybrids, certainly not their feelings. You’ve heard all those thing he said about them when he thought no one was listening.

“Clark.” The hybrid said and lowered his head.

“What?”

“My name. I apologise, I shouldn’t have barged in here expecting you to be chill about everything. I’m such a fool. I’m just a stranger to you. The least I could do is tell you my name.” The apology sounded so sincere.

“No, it’s uh- fine..” you scratched your arm anxiously. Luckily he seems pretty nice and not someone who would just take their mate and go; it’s happened before. Perhaps you’ve got a chance?

“Oh come on Y/N! Give the poor fella a chance!” Your boss bellowed and forced you forward. You crashed into the giant’s chest from the shove. “He clearly loves you!

What the hell was he going on about?

Strange that the man was encouraging your reunion, you thought.

“Actually, since I’m so nice, why don’ I do ya a favour and let ya go? Someone like you shouldn’t have to work in a place like this. This’a happy day!” Then he pointed at the beak room, “Get ya stuff and celebrate.”

“Excuse me-wha- let me go? As in I’m fired?” Your brain tried to comprehend what just happened and words fell out in unfinished sentences. Despite yourself, you fixed your eyes on Clark.

“Don’ worry he’ll be ‘ere when ya get back!” The rough man shooed you towards the break room.

Having no choice but to comply, you do as he wishes and abandon the scene, which might’ve been the best thing really, the continued staring of the present customers was starting to make you very uncomfortable.

Glaring at your locker like it was the cause of your ill mood, you harshly ripped your jacket off the hook and stuffed some scattered items back in your bag. You could not believe it. Fired? You? You have been nothing but a good employee at the diner, even taking all the shit from the boss and not complaining once.

Through the small window in the door, you spot the cause of your troubles thoughts walking by. Angrily you grab his arm and pull him inside the room, a surprised noise leaving him.

“What the hell, why am I being laid off? I haven’t done anything.”

He expressed a long breath. “Sorry, but I can’t ‘ave some brute hangin ‘round here ‘cause of you, customer don’t like it and I won’t sacrifice my business for someone like you. Surely you understand.”

“He won’t hang around the diner, we’re not together! Besides, it not my fault!” You pleaded with him. You needed this job. Without it you’d definitely die in the end.

“Well, we both know he won’t leave so don’ make this any harder than it already is.” He said before leaving to do whatever shit he did instead of being a good manager.

Bullshit. It wasn’t hard at all. In fact, you bet he loved to have an excuse to get rid of you. He never liked you from the very beginning; the feeling was very mutual by the way.

With despair, you left through the back door and as you listened to it close, you did not react to the loud bam of the heavy metal slam. Recalling at how you flinched the first time you went out the back, you clench your fist. How’re you gonna make it now? You doubted you had much savings in the bank.

Making your way to the station, it blew passed you that there was still a bear waiting for you so he could properly introduce himself. He was in his own mind so much that he didn’t realise you’d already left until it was too late.

Good that he was born with a great sense of smell. How stupid of him not to consider your perspective in the beginning! Not to worry, he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off the next time. His species didn’t have the best reputation so he understood why you acted the way you did; it still hurt though.

The next time he’d just need to show you he wasn’t dangerous at all.

——

Sorry the ending sucked and was rushed. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end it so it turned into this.

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theambitiouswoman · 8 months ago

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Wanting more positive experiences itself is a negative experience. But accepting your negative experiences can lead to a more positive experience.

Your reality is just a mirror of your emotional energy. You can only experience a version of reality that aligns with the energy you put out. When you focus on what you don't want, you end up getting more of it. Instead, shift your emotional energy by clearly identifying what you do want and envisioning the reality you desire.

Focus only on what brings you joy or inspires you. Don’t allow other people’s opinions to influence you or make you worry about how plausible your desires are.

The first step to changing your reality is to reclaim your emotional energy. This means pulling your focus away from the negative parts of your current situation, giving you more energy to put toward your ideal reality. All unwanted circumstances arise because your current reality tries to drain your emotional energy by creating problems and concerns that provoke strong emotional reactions.

On the other hand, letting others influence you or worrying about how you'll achieve your goals muddles your frequency with conflicting emotions. These emotions fuel the very situations you want to avoid. For instance, if you aim to be a wealthy entrepreneur just to appear successful and impress others, it won't inspire you intrinsically. Instead, pursuing this goal feels exhausting and unfulfilling. Consequently, you send out mixed emotional energy, which feeds realities you don't desire.

To create the reality you truly desire, focus on what genuinely inspires and fulfills you. Clear your mind of external influences and worries, and align your emotional energy with your true passions. By doing this, you'll transmit a consistent, positive frequency that attracts the life you want. Remember, your reality is a reflection of the energy you put out, so make sure it matches your deepest desires and aspirations.

#law of vibration #law of the universe #law of abundance #lawofattraction #laws of attraction #law of assumption #law of manifestation #neville goddard #manifestingdreams #how to manifest #energy

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moonlight-tmd · 17 days ago

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May we hear your th I ughts on how bee would be of he was drunk?? Please?(tfa pls!)

(Not going anon so I can give u this)

That's an interesting question that I've been meaning to post about for a while now.

Now, this is more of a headcanon of how everyone handles high grade and being drunk but there is an answer to Bee specifically too.

Starting off with the eldest, Ratchet: He's very responsible, even in his younger years he was more about studying than partying but he's done a fair amount of drinking over his life. His limit is a little higher than average although he doesn't consume high grade unless he is clearly off duty. He enjoys an occasional sweet with alcohol-based filling. He's the type that if he's drunk he will wallow in melancholy and tell stories of the good times gone by.

Optimus: He's average in holding high grade, he never really went to parties unless he was dragged to one by Elita or Sentinel. He drinks responsibly and got tipsy at most, although the more alcohol he has the more laid back he will be. He's a chill drunk and other than murmuring occasional nonsense he'll just vibe to whatever is happening in the room.

Bulkhead: His parents let him taste high grade when he was a teen, but he got to fully experience it once he turned full age at some celebration. He's also average limit and much like Optimus is chill when drunk, although the alcohol makes him sleepy so most of the time he will doze off after a while of drinking.

Bumblebee: Now this is interesting, because by my headcanon he used to work as a bartender. He is the main provider of alcoholic brews in Team Prime (he build his own brewing vat). From the time working asa bartender he used to mix all sorts of drinks and most often tasted them in secret to know what they taste like. He has a surprisingly high limit and alcohol safety, he's the one that will conduct the party if alcohol is involved. On the times he allows himself to drink until drunk he's definitely more bolder and careless about the consequences, if he was nervous to flirt before he will do it anyway when drunk, he doesn't really care about negative feedback. His drunk self is definitely more responsive to more primitive ways rather than words, hugs and touches are fine but can lead to unwanted advances if pushed over the limit and pushing and sharp sounds (words) can lead to fights. Bee has dealt with drunkards and knows what he can do so it's rare he allows himself to get fully drunk.

Prowl: He is the total opposite. Despite being much like Bee in his teen years he never drank high grade. The first time was when Bee concocted vapor fluid (wine/champagne) for their first New Years and Prowl downed it in one go. He is very lightweight and gets rowdy when indulging. He's the type of drunk everyone would expect Bee to be but nope, it's Prowl- he's loud, wants to party and dances on the table without care until someone has to take him back to his room cuz he's too much. His access to high grade is restricted and he gets it, Bee often has a watered down version of the alcohol just for Prowl so he can get drunk slower and still indulge along with others.

Sari (after she ages obviously) would burst into giggles on simple things, it makes her prone to stupid things and makes the general enjoyment x100 better.

#maccadam #tfa #ask box #tfa headcanons #tfa bumblebee #tfa prowl #tfa bulkhead #tfa ratchet #tfa optimus prime #tfa sari

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lunarlianna · 1 year ago

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Medusa Asteroid ( 149)

The Medusa myth is a compelling tale encompassing themes of power, fear and transformation. Medusa, born from the sea gods Phorcys and Ceto, was the only mortal among the Gorgon sisters. Originally, Medusa was a stunning maiden who captured the attention of Poseidon, leading to a grievous violation within the sacred confines of Athena's temple. In order to protect her, Athena transformed Medusa's hair into a mass of serpents, bestowing upon her a petrifying gaze. Medusa's astrological connection with the asteroid 149 suggests her influence recurs periodically, like seasons, lasting about 3.2 years. This implies cyclic challenges and growth tied to her themes.

Her family lineage underscores sibling rivalry and a sense of being different. After her transformation, Medusa retreats from the world, which can reflect where we tend to hide. Confronting these hidden truths requires courage and wisdom. Medusa's connection to Athena links her to Jupiterian qualities, offering insights when considering her placement with Jupiter in your chart. Some individuals with a strong Medusa presence may struggle with self-perception, seeing themselves as a metaphorical monster in the mirror. Others may possess an intimidating gaze that isolates them. Medusa's myth explores profound psychological and ethical themes, emphasizing self-awareness, ethical choices, and facing consequences. In astrology, Medusa indicates a swift and forceful defense mechanism to protect oneself, potentially causing tension, wounds, and unjust criticism in specific life areas, ultimately prompting personal growth.

Medusa in the 1st house: can give you a magnetic and intense presence that sometimes triggers negative reactions from strangers. Your hair and eyes, tends to draw attention, potentially making you a target for bullies or disrespectful comments in childhood. You may tend to stay hidden and to hide your body but you always end up being villainized. However, your transformative journey involves transcending these adversities. You rise above others' insecurities and boldly embrace your individuality. Empowering yourself by disregarding hurtful comments, you nurture self-appreciation and self-confidence despite societal pressures to conform.

Medusa in the 2nd house: can make you appear very self-assured and confident but you might find it difficult to see your own self-worth. Your voice may be quite attractive, and you might excel in business or singing. Financial success and possessions could come easily, but you may also face envy for your wealth. You may tend to hide the possession that you have and the inheritance that you received, especially from your husband. However, you can transform from this by maintaining your dignity, adapting to change, and valuing inner beauty over material possessions. Your makeup style may accentuate your allure, but be cautious of attracting unwanted attention in relationships.

Medusa in the 3rd house: may lead to tension with siblings and peers. In early years you may be quite shy and scared to express your opinion. In the neighborhood or with your siblings, things that go wrong might end up being attributed to you. Your social interactions may lead you to encounter individuals who are less than truthful, which can be frustrating. In some cases, people might misunderstand your intentions, labeling you as two-faced or even anti-social, especially if you're more introverted. However, your transformation comes by becoming more confident and setting boundaries, expressing your opinions assertively, and speaking up courageously when needed. Your ability to address uncomfortable truths may inspire others to do the same.

Medusa in the 4th house: can trigger negative reactions from family members. You might inherit certain challenging behaviors from an older relative and sense negative energy at home, possibly due to constant parental arguments. The them around you home can be quite unconventional, have an edgy look with marine and blue vibes to it. Your strong self-awareness and purposefulness can make it difficult for others to deceive or influence you. You've learned to establish your inner sanctuary, and you're protective of your emotions, possibly due to early criticism from a family member. This can lead to a desire for control and a slow transition when getting out of your comfort zone around others.

Medusa in the 5th house: with this placement people may envy or have hidden agendas, especially when you express your full self. You may tend to hide your art work and your creative endeavors, especially when younger. A lack of desire for children may bring you rumors, criticize and scandals. You're often villainized for outgrowing relationships and embracing change. There's a remarkable ability to protect your passions with unwavering determination, refusing to succumb to societal pressures or stifling expectations. In your life, you may attract partners with abusive tendencies and face misunderstandings due to your sincere kindness.

Medusa in the 6th house: people may envy your disciplined approach to daily life and work. In early years you might have encountered challenges with schoolmates and later, colleagues at work, a consistent inclination toward people-pleasing is noticeable. You've transformed from a people-pleaser to someone who values personal freedom and control. You're protective of your routines and may confront those who disrupt them, also you may like to adopt unusual pets and are very protective over them. You maintain a keen sense of discernment, especially regarding manipulative individuals, particularly men.

Medusa in the 7th house: your relationships may have faced challenges, and you could have experienced envy from others. People might see you as the peacemaker, but when you rebel, you face criticism. Controlling dynamics may have been part of your past relationships, and you may have experienced manipulation or guilt-tripping. People may envy your romantic connections, and sabotage could taint your relationships. You're villainized for not conforming to a one-dimensional image, for having your own vulnerabilities and complexities. To transform, reevaluate your role in relationships, recognize that you're not solely a caretaker, and insist on mutual partnership and empathy from others.

Medusa in the 8th house: with this placement, you may encounter challenges in your intimate life due to being oversexualized. Loved ones might underestimate your pain, assuming you're always strong. Expressing yourself is often met with dismissal or minimization of your trauma. Your interactions can be intense and alluring, sometimes leading to obsessions, especially in intimate relationships. You tend to attract controlling individuals and even stalkers, people that usually want to know all your secrets. Some may envy your constant transformation, which can lead to competition or backbiting. Transformation comes for owning your sexuality and being in control of your finances. Remember, your personal growth is something to be proud of, despite others' negativity.

Medusa in the 9th house: your profound wisdom and exceptional intelligence often set you apart. While your deep knowledge and unique beliefs may not always find immediate acceptance, they are a testament to your unwavering commitment to your values. You naturally challenge cultural and religious norms; your spiritual journey is highly transformative and you usually hide your spiritual beliefs. It's important to recognize that your wisdom and spiritual insights have the potential to inspire and enlighten others, even when they struggle to fully comprehend your perspective.

Medusa in the 10th house: can create a unique journey in your work environment, where you might unknowingly trigger feelings of jealousy and face unkind energies from others. Your public image tends to be captivating, but this can occasionally result in clashes with government or legal matters. Challenges in your career and with authority figures are not uncommon with this placement, as there may have been expectations from your father for you to follow in his footsteps. As you age, you're likely to discover a growing sense of personal power and influence. It's important to recognize that these experiences have shaped you, and they offer opportunities for personal growth and transformation.

Medusa in the 11th house: you might keep your dreams and ambitions hidden because of the jealousy and envy you witnessed from your friends during your early years. Your upbringing might have exposed you to less-than-ideal community conditions, which may have led to toxic friendships and betrayals from people you considered friends. However, you do have genuine friends who share interests in astrology, spirituality, or religion with you, and these connections are meaningful. People might judge you or be envious, but this likely stems from their own insecurities. You're resilient and have the potential to make a positive impact on your community and the world in your own unique way.

Medusa in the 12th house: you might have experienced a pattern of encountering hidden adversaries in your life, which could be tied to karmic elements. This placement could also suggest a tendency to turn to intoxicants, like alcohol, which might symbolize a form of personal poison. Many with this placement may feel a strong bond with water elements, often expressing it through tattoos or jewelry featuring water symbols, seashells, or even snakes. Vivid snake dreams can serve as cautionary messages, urging vigilance against hidden adversaries. Your spiritual pursuits might be perceived as disruptive to community and family norms, causing some to view you as a threat due to your ability to see through deception when others can't. Balancing vulnerability, self-protection, skepticism, and warmth highlights the need for compassion when confronting hidden traumas and fears in this placement.

#astro observations #astro community #astro placements #astrology #all signs #astro notes #for you #asteroid #astrologer #zodiac placements #medusa #gorgon #mythology #myth

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yangqism · 2 months ago

Text

we can't be friends | liu yangyang

actor!liu yangyang x actress!femreader

synopsis.yangyang is born to be a star, the kind of talent that lights up the screen. you, on the other hand, is a nepo baby who everyone believed got the lead role because of your family’s influence. he fought all these years to be the man that he is while you are still busy proving yourself to the populace. you believe you’re more than just your parents. he believes he’s less than without his fans. when your lives become intertwined, things get messy–one has never tasted consequences while the other lies awake at night, haunted by the thought of it.

genre. romance, angst

warnings. there's pretend kissing then there's real kissing where yangyang doesn't ask you, he just goes for it, i do not know the difference between drama and series so sorry <3

words. 8,812

eternal sunshine. masterlist

a/n. it gets better at the ending part so plZ just bear w me. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! I'm turning 20 this year lol feels so scary if you think about it but whatever

The universe is unfair, but Yangyang has learned to live with that.

It was unfair that he always played second to someone else. The second male lead, the second-best choice, the second most important. But he was never really bothered about it. Not until you waltzed your way into the picture.

You still remember it vividly. It was a Monday afternoon, the first read through with the cast of Eternal Sunshine–a week before filming. He was already sitting beside the chair assigned to you, practicing his lines diligently while you took a sip from your coffee you ordered to-go.

You greeted him with a warm smile but he only replied with a small and rushed one. Sure, he was your second lead in the drama but during that time, he made you feel unwanted. But who are you kidding? Of course, you were everything he wasn’t supposed to want. You’re the female lead, the one who would be with the male lead in the end. The center of attention. Realistically, you’re a nepo baby whose life had been handed to her on a silver platter, complete with designer shoes and an unearned (still) spotlight. But God, did you wear it well.

Whereas Yangyang had to work his way up. Every step of his journey was carved out of his determination and long nights filled with self-doubt, management’s uncertainty, and the media’s scrutiny. He wasn’t handed anything the first time he breathed in the land of showbiz. Every opportunity, recognition, and spotlight he’s getting right now is because he persevered.

That’s what made sitting next to you on that Monday afternoon so excruciating.

While he did smile to your way in a rushed manner, he viewed you as a person far differently than other people did when they looked your way. You were effortless in his eyes. Effortless in a manner that he could never be. Even in the most mundane moments like you sipping on your coffee, standing up to bow to anyone who comes in the script room, scrolling through your phone–you carried yourself with an air of belonging, like you had been born to inhabit the world he had clawed his way into.

And yet, it wasn’t jealousy that twisted his chest when he looked at you. Heck, it was something worse.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, when your mouth opened to read the script, Yangyang knew exactly what you were capable of. You weren’t just a nepo baby or some random female lead that the crew casted. You were the kind of actress everyone aspires to be. And also the kind of person who could uproot everything he’d worked so hard to build.

You first met Yangyang at a press conference after an award show your parents were invited for and you were their plus one. The journalist decided to pick on you, asking you pressing questions regarding your status in the industry.

“What do you feel that everyone’s calling you a nepo baby, Ms. Y/N?” Well, you almost wish the journalist hadn’t called you ‘Miss’ if his question was like that.

You just smiled at him awkwardly, never giving in to their pressing questions about your relevance in the acting industry. Afterall, you believe you’re more than just your parents. Sure, they opened this path for you but you’re working hard to show to everyone that you deserve that spot.

You never really paid attention to the young actor during that time but you saw him looking at you while you were being interrogated by the rude journalist. Your eyes met for a brief moment before he broke it to talk to another actor.

At first, Yangyang didn’t feel bad for you during that time, considering how he thought you were an annoying actress, like what he had heard from rumors.

“Miss Y/N, what’s with you today? You keep on failing the scene,” the director yells another disappointed ‘cut!’ after you fumbled your lines with a scene with Sicheng. “Let’s take 5!”

“I’m sorry, Sicheng,” you gave an apologetic smile to the star actor but he just shrugged and went to his assistant to freshen up.

If there was one thing you loved about working with Sicheng, it was because he doesn’t really care about where you came from or what you did to become his female lead. He’s just there for work. A bonus is that he treats you nicely, he’s just nonchalant at times. Especially when that pop star comes into the set.

“You’re too stiff, Y/N,” the sudden voice from behind your back startled you. You whip around to see Yangyang leaning casually against a prop stand, arms crossed and an amused grin tugging at his lips.

“Your body’s too tense, that’s why you keep messing up,” he points out, tilting his head. “I saw it when you were delivering your lines.”

“Oh, Yangyang-sunbaenim! I see, I’ll try to deliver these lines as smoothly as possible,” you replied, giving him a small smile.

“Practice it to me.”

“Huh?”

“Practice your line to me and I can give you feedback, dummy,” Yangyang reiterated, his tone filled with playful impatience.

“O-oh! Uhm…” You focus, taking a deep breath before looking directly into his eyes, “Lei… I don’t think you can understand me… I don’t think we’re… we’re…” Your voice falters right where it did before. You clench your jaw, trying to force the words out, but they just won’t come.

Your shoulders drop as you let out a sigh of defeat, “I don’t think I can do this,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper but Yangyang heard it.

“You think you can’t because you want Lei and Riko to be together. You’re so immersed in your role right now, Y/N,” Yangyang scolded, giving you a bottle of water from his staff.

“This isn't real, Y/N. You need to separate work and your personal feelings. If you want Lei and Riko to be together, they will in the end. Just not in this scene. Get yourself together and wrap this scene up so we can all go home,” he reaches up, ruffling your hair like you’re a little kid on the set, and before you can even process what he did, he’s already walking away, hands shoved in his pockets heading straight to annoy Kun.

“Separate work and personal feelings, huh?” You muttered, staring at the water he gave you. His words echo in your mind, louder than the busy mumbles of the crew around you. Maybe what he said is true considering how you can’t bear to think that Lei, Sicheng’s character, and Riko, your character, will end their love escapade for a few episodes before rekindling again.

“Y/N, Sicheng, back on stage!” The director yelled, giving you a brief smile before instructing the cameraman. “Do your best.”

You nod, tightening your grip on the water bottle before setting it aside. Your feet move automatically, carrying you toward the place you’ll be delivering your line in. As you’re heading to your place, you can feel Yangyang’s eyes on you.

You looked in his direction and he already had his signature gummy smile plastered on his face, “Do your best,” he mimicked the director’s voice, making you giggle.

It was a week after the first shooting for Eternal Sunshine that the director called you in her office for an emergency revision for the later episodes.

You were wearing your favorite faded jeans with a long sleeve and a coffee on your hand. At first, you thought it was just gonna be you and the director but a sleepy Yangyang came into her office like it’s his second home.

“Greetings, Yangyang!” The director annoyingly scolded him, throwing a pillow at him when he immediately latched himself onto the sofa.

“Hello, noona. Hello, Y/N.”

“I’m very sorry about him, Ms. Y/N,” his manager, Huang Renjun, apologized on behalf of the second male lead. “He just came from an overnight shooting with Mr. Qian Kun. The two of them had to shoot their scenes more than once because the rookie actor kept messing up and they didn’t want to be assholes on set.”

“Hey! What about an apology for me?” The director playfully demanded even though she had known the reason for Yangyang’s behavior beforehand. The director was like family for Yangyang and Renjun. This isn’t the first project they did together hence they’re comfortable with each other.

“As he said, Kun-ge,” Yangyang mentioned the golden boy and the three immediately saw the flabbergasted reaction of the director. “Kun-ge, Kun-ge, Kun-ge, Kun-” Yangyang teased, his smile grew wider as the director’s face became more embarrassed before having enough of his ministries.

“Enough, second lead!” The director sassed, “I called you here today because there’s a change in the storyline we’re going to record for tomorrow,” she started as her assistant gave you and Yangyang the copy of the revised script and concept for the shoot.

As you skimmed the pages, you realized that you and Yangyang’s character will be in close proximity, fully giving justice to his second male lead role. “As you can see, Riko and Jun will be closer to each other after Lei’s and Riko’s fall out. Of course, this will be brief as the latter couple will get back together,” she explained. “I just want the both of you to prepare yourselves. I know that the both of you have the least interaction throughout this series but you need to prepare… like, prepare,” she emphasized before adjourning the meeting, leaving you dazed.

“After reading this script, I think Riko will fall harder for Jun than Lei,” you joked, already feeling the pressure as you saw a scene where you and Yangyang had to kiss.

“Will you?” Yangyang asked, his tone was interrogating.

You tilted your head, confused with what he meant, “Will I what, sunbaenim?”

But he just shrugged, telling you to prepare for tomorrow before leaving the office.

The ride on the way home was unusually quiet.

“What do you think of him?” Your manager, Chenle, asked you.

“Of who?”

“Of Yangyang.”

You tried to think about what to say for a moment, “Well, he’s nice to me.”

“That’s it?” Chenle glanced at you through the rearview mirror, one brow arched. “Nice? He’s Yangyang, Y/N. Everyone I heard who worked with him can’t get him out of their heads after.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the window. “He’s good at what he does. Professional. Maybe those people can’t separate work from their personal lives or whatever.”

“Professional, huh?” You can hear the smirk from Chenle’s tone.

“Just stop overthinking things, Chenle,” You sighed, dumping all of your body weight on the car seat. “Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day with him so you better not make any weird comments like whatever this conversation is.” “There’s nothing weird with the conversation we’re having, Y/N.” Chenle retorted, “I’m just hoping you could come to your senses tomorrow and do your best as an actress. You still have a lot to prove in the industry.”

“I know that.”

It’s tiring, honestly. For you, it’s a never ending quest of ‘proving’ yourself to the industry, general public, and your own family. It’s sad to think about how as a child, everyone was looking forward to your acting debut but once you did, all the nepotism news bombarded your career hence, you’re now known as the ‘nepo’ baby.

You used to think of it as a positive thing, you never forgot to thank your parents in every interview for this opportunity as an actress because you know, since as a kid, that this is the path meant for you. It’s like you’re honoring them every chance you have but the public deemed it as ‘rubbing your nepotism face’ every chance you get.

In the end, this whole issue got out of hand and you don’t mention your parents as much as you used to, even coming as close to declining films where they are starring in or in affiliation with in fear of the nepotism thing getting even bigger.

The next day on set had this heavy atmosphere not usually there when it’s you and Sicheng filming. You think it’s probably with the revised script that got everyone on their edge because the crew were everywhere, ensuring all of the props and sets are nice and perfect for your shoot.

It was also during this time that you realized the scene you’re about to do.

It’s the middle part of Riko and Jun’s relationship where they kiss because they realized they love each other, only for a short period of time, and it ought to feel magical or else people would believe that Riko’s still in love with Lei and is using Jun but in the script, Riko’s in love with Jun, even if it’s just for a brief period.

The director deemed it easier for the both of you to finish the hard scenes first before the others so as to ensure smooth filming in the later days of the schedule, considering that Yangyang and other actors in this series also has other schedules.

“Relax,” Yangyang’s voice broke through your thoughts as you couldn’t shake your nerves.

First day with Yangyang as your character’s lover and you’re already about to kiss. What’s there to not be nervous about?

He was leaning against the makeup station, dressed amazingly by his stylist. You think of his presence as effortless but right now, there’s a glint of something in his eyes–quiet yet intense.

“I’m trying, sunbae,” you replied, turning to face him.

He stepped closer to where you are, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “You’re overthinking it, Y/N. It’s just a scene. We’re professionals, remember?”

You nodded, but your hands were still trembling slightly. Yangyang saw your state and sighed. “Nepo babies,” he teased as he shook his head before giving you again a bottle of water. “Take a sip, madam. It will make you feel better.”

“I’m sorry for feeling nervous, sunbae.” You apologized as you took a sip from the water he gave you. “It’s just that… it’s my first kissing scene ever and I’m not familiar with the grounds for kissing in a scene.” you admitted.

Yangyang’s smile was wide and charming as he listened to your confession, “Don’t worry, sunbae will guide you.”

It was show time and the director called you and Yangyang in for a brief summary again.

“Look,” Yangyang said to catch your attention, “Think of this scene as an important moment for Jun and Riko. They came from heartbreaks and found comfort from each other,” he gave you an advice, “It’s like their enlightenment scene where they kiss and suddenly, all is well.”

You stared at him, trying to gauge what he had just said. “I’ll do my best,” you said shyly, offering him a small smile before walking to the center.

“I know you will,” Yangyang replied, his gummy smile returning.

“Okay, lovebirds for a glimpse,” the director called. Lovebirds for a glimpse is you and Yangyang’s new nickname on set because of this RikoJun scene you’re doing. “Kiss your way!” was all she said before giving the both of you the cue.

As the scene began, you convinced yourself that this isn’t about you. This is about Riko finding love again after what happened with Lei. This is her first kiss with someone who comforted her. And with that, you found yourself more at ease.

Yangyang’s character approached yours, his eyes showed vulnerability and it almost felt too real when his orbs directly looked into yours. The lines flowing out of his mouth smoothly, as if he meant them.

And when the moment came, when Jun leaned in and Riko didn’t pull away, it was like the rest of the world disappeared.

The kiss was soft, hesitant, and lingering–exactly as it was supposed to be. Yangyang held your head with such gentleness while your hands found their way to his back, trying to get him closer to your body.

You know it’s just pretend kissing but part of you wished it was real with the way Yangyang was holding you and your proximity, his warmth made you feel small in a way that is not condescending. He made you feel safe.

When the two of you break the kiss, your eyes meet again. This time, you definitely went out of character as you looked at him deeply, fully portraying Riko’s yearning for him. Her ‘I found you’ moment.

“Cut!” The director yelled ecstatically. “That was such a good scene!”

You thanked the director while your mind was still in a daze as Yangyang gave you a small, reassuring nod–as if saying that you did well. You couldn’t help but give the actor a smile in return.

As the crew buzzed around you again, you caught Chenle’s gaze from the sidelines. He raised a brow, smirking at your direction as if he knew something you didn’t.

And maybe, he did.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Between the countless takes, script changes, and the director’s endless feedback, you barely had time to process anything. Except when Yangyang was in the same room as yours. You admire how his presence seems to fill every corner, tugging at your attention no matter how hard you try to focus on anything else.

By the time you wrapped up for the day, your body ached from exhaustion, and all you wanted was to crawl into bed. At this time, you thoroughly expected a grumpy Chenle waiting for you in your dressing room but you were taken aback with what you got instead.

It was Yangyang, leaning against the wall near your dressing room, scrolling through his phone like he’s your boyfriend waiting for you to finish your shoot… you mean, what?

You hesitated to greet him but he looked up at you before you could even decide.

“Y/N,” he greeted, “Chenle’s out with Renjun. Figured I’ll wait for you instead, considering how late it is now.”

“Oh,” you mentally cursed your manager, your inner monologues filled with ‘How dare he’ and ‘How could he’. “It’s fine, sunbae. I can manage on my own.”

Yangyang slipped his phone into his pocket, standing up straight in the process. “No, nepo baby. You’re gonna be with me until you enter the backdoor of your apartment.”

You’re too tired to decline a persistent Yangyang that you just nodded before heading to the parking lot. “Long day,” you sighed, leaning into the car seat of Renjun’s van.

“Tell me about it,” he responded as he started driving.

You glanced at him, surprised, “I almost forgot! Aren’t you supposed to be staying for the night shoot?”

“Nah, Kun’s taking over because of changes again. Figured the director would have also preferred it that way,” he laughed as his hands smoothly maneuvered the steering wheel.

You giggled at his response, “Sounds about right.”

The two of you drove in an awkward silence for a while, the cold air conditioning of the van touches your body, making you shiver.

“So,” he said eventually, looking at you for a brief period in his rearview mirror. “How’d it feel? The scene, I mean.”

You bit your lip, avoiding his brief glances at your place. “I don’t know,” you started, “It felt different… I don’t think I can find the right words to describe it right now, really.”

You try to brush off his question with a laugh but you know deep inside your heart that you couldn’t just tell him you wished that the kiss was real. That you wish there was something more and that his glances at you earlier meant something.

“But your advice did help a lot!” You tried changing the topic which you think was effective after he gave you a smug chuckle in return.

“Told you.”

There was something easy about talking to him like this, away from the cameras and the crew and everything.

While driving, Yangyang made sure to take all the precautions he needed so as to not get caught with you in his manager’s van. Sure, he’s being friendly and acting like a dependable sunbae to you but he can’t afford being caught in a scandal, not with you.

When you reached your destination, he made sure to contact the security to ensure no one was there before letting you go.

“Thanks for earlier, sunbae! I don’t think I would’ve gotten through it without your reassurance.”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before giving you a soft smile. “You would’ve been fine, with or without my advice. Give yourself some credit.”

You stood frozen in the middle of your apartment’s parking lot at the sudden compliment. “Anyway, Y/N, get some good rest as tomorrow will be just as crazy as today.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “You too, sunbae, you too.”

By the time you reached your unit, you were surprised to see Chenle’s outdoor shoes in the entryway.

“Yangyang said you’re out with Renjun,” your face turned sour at the sight of Chenle chilling on your sofa. “What a bad manager you are!”

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I left the restaurant earlier than Renjun.”

You didn’t mind what he said and went directly to your room to change. When you come back to your living room, he’s still in the same spot you left him a while ago.

“What do you think of him now?” He asked again. This time, you already know who he was referring to.

“He’s still fine and I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you rolled your eyes, joining him at your sofa.

“He looks at you like you’re the lead of more than just the show, Y/N,” Chenle said slyly.

“You’re overthinking things again, Chenle. Yangyang-sunbae is nice. I think we just have a good hoobae-sunbae relationship that’s why you’re acting like that,” you defended the actor.

“I hope you’re right,” was all he said before placing all of his attention back to the television.

At this point, you hope you’re right.

It’s been a week since you spent time with Yangyang, filming the scenes for RikoJun and today, you guys are wrapping it all up–they’re gonna end their relationship and Lei will come back into the picture.

“Missed me, Y/N?” Sicheng teased you.

It’s also been a week since you last saw Sicheng, considering how busy he had gotten with his modelling gigs and sneaking out the pop star every night to his condominium.

“You wish,” you retorted.

“I heard you and Yangyang have a great chemistry,” he said again, his arms crossed to his chest.

“I like to think we do, too!” You gleefully replied, “His advice helped me a lot, especially during the heavy scenes we have together.”

Sicheng looked at you, “Mhm. I hope we still have that spark together after your time with him.”

Everyone on set was perplexed as to why Yangyang’s watching your scenes with Sicheng now, considering how he doesn’t have any upcoming shoots with you or with other actors of the drama today.

“Yang? Why are you here?” The director asked, completely puzzled to see the young man on set.

“Just wanna watch some of my colleagues, noona,” he showed off his gummy smile before proceeding to sit at the chair where the intern is supposed to sit.

“Back off, Liu. The intern’s assigned there,” Hendery hissed, giving Yangyang a side eye before watching the younger one go away from the seat.

“Chill, Wong.”

But Hendery didn’t give him any more attention, walking back to his van again to wait for the director’s orders.

“Woah! What a tense situation you got there, Yang!” The director saw what happened, grinning ear to ear at Yangyang.

“Shut up, noona. Why you gotta hire that man, anyways?”

“Well, he’s a good actor and he’s not rude to me,”

“Whatever,” was all he said before looking for another seat to conquer.

After your shoot, you saw Yangyang outside your van, leaning against it while busying himself with his cellphone.

“Sunbae?”

“Oh, Y/N. Already finished?” He asked, his eyes filled with joy as soon as he saw you in front of him.

“Yeah. Why are you here, sunbae?”

“N-nothing, Y/N. Have a great day.”

You found it weird that Yangyang’s in front of your van yet left when you arrived but you didn’t divulge deep into the thought as your manager’s already waiting for you inside.

“He was waiting for you,” Chenle told you the moment you sat on the leathered seat. “I thought he’s going to ask you out or something.”

“Please stop, Chenle. I know you like joking about stuff like that but he’s just a nice sunbae, that’s all!”

“Drop the act, Y/N. I know you like him.”

This time, he’s right.

It started with the kiss scenes then the lovey-dovey shootings then came the drive-you-home extravaganza. Everything about Yangyang screams boyfriend for you. When he’d smile at you like you’re his most favorite thing in his world or when you’d be the only one he’d give techniques and advice on set, you knew what Chenle said about the man is right.

At first, you were in-denial about it. Thinking that maybe you’re thinking this way about Yangyang because you can’t get your shit together and that you’re acting unprofessional. But, you know yourself. All this time, you are professional and diligent but his acts towards you aren't.

Now, you’re here watching his character meet up with a new character the director added on a whim, saying something along the lines of ‘I’m sad Yangyang’s character didn’t have a partner.’

“Cut!” The director shouted, “That was a good run! Thank you, everyone!”

The moment your eyes locked in with Yangyang, he immediately walked your way, not minding the new female character in his vicinity.

“You were great out there,” you complimented.

“Thanks,” he looked up before looking right into your eyes again, “But that’s just an act you know, what you saw earlier.”

“...I know?” You laughed. Of course, you know. You’re an actress for god’s sake!

“Just… saying,” he responded. “Anyways, are you free? Do you want to hangout with Sicheng and the rest?”

You thought he’s about to ask you out on a date but Sicheng’s name flew out of his mouth and made your mood a bit down.

“Sure, I’d love to,” you replied, opening your SMS app to message your manager about the said gathering.

You were about to sit beside Yangyang when the new actress beat you to it and told you to sit between Sicheng and Hendery.

“It’s more fun if we sat beside our partners in the drama!” She suggested but you knew she just wanted to sit besides Yangyang.

The table was tense, with the actress giving Yangyang a lot of food on his plate while you and the rest were quietly looking at the both of them.

“I told Yangyang not to invite the newbie,” Hendery murmured.

“Wouldn’t that be bad?” You asked, surprised he even talked to you.

“So what? He could tell her I’m the one who suggested it.”

“That would be bad for you, then.”

“Everyone knows I’m bad. Much better for her to experience it sooner.’

You wanted to continue the conversation with Hendery more but he was clearly preoccupied with his ramen.

“That’s Hendery for you,” Sicheng smiled. “Here, get some of the beef I cooked.”

“Thank you, Sicheng,” you thanked him as he put some cooked beef into your plate.

From time to time, Yangyang kept on glancing at you while the new addition to the crew kept on pushing herself to the man. He was being uncomfortable because even though they rented a private section of this restaurant, rumors can still go and he can’t afford to have that.

“He’s looking at you, Y/N,” Sicheng said, as if you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

“I know, oppa. It feels weird.”

“Miss Y/N, you haven’t been touching your plate. Is everything alright?” Dejun asked rather loudly and everyone’s eyes on you now which made you feel small, especially when Yangyang’s gaze turned concerned.

“Yes, Dejun-sunbae. I just feel full now,” you smiled at his direction which is a bit to the left whereas you were in the middle.

“I’ll finish your food, Y/N. Give it to me,” Yangyang suddenly said, his right hand in your direction, waiting for you to give him your plate.

“But–”

“Sicheng-ge, give me her plate,” you swear you could hear the newbie disagreeing with Yangyang but he didn’t mind.

Sicheng, being the biggest shipper of you and Yangyang, gladly followed the younger’s request.

“Thank you, Yangyang-sunbae,” you said, eyes glinting with affection that everyone on the table didn’t miss.

Of course, the both of you may not notice your deep fondness towards each other but everyone around you can feel it–they just don’t want to meddle with it.

After everyone finished eating, you guys decided it would be better to part ways with each other and when the cast vanished into the busy streets of Seoul, you found yourself alone with Yangyang.

“At last,” Yangyang jokingly said, nudging you playfully with his elbow while grinning from ear to ear. “At last, I can be with you alone!”

Your heartbeat raced as you tried finding a reasonable response to him. “Don’t say that, sunbae!”

“Why? Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“I like being with you, Yangyang-sunbae,” you responded, your tone was heartfelt but your execution was shy.

Yangyang glanced at you for a while before forcing you to look back up at him, his fingers found your chin, racing it up so you could meet eye to eye. “I’ve been meaning to tell you this, Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“You can stop calling me sunbae, you know,” he continued, “Just call me Yangyang, like everyone does.”

“But I don’t like calling you the way they do,” you argued, your lips forming a firm line.

He just laughed at your stubbornness before ruffling your hair.

“Okay, nepo baby. Just call me whatever you want,” he smiles at you genuinely, never getting tired of your little habits.

“Okay, my dearest sunbae,” he laughs again this time but you truly meant what you had said.

Sure, you might have other sunbae than him that you look up to and respect the most but none of them is Yangyang. None of them can make you feel the way he makes you feel. To you, he’s irreplaceable.

Yangyang’s presence is a constant in your day as an actress. He’s always there, watching your scenes and cheering you on every chance he gets. He would also lean over your script, pointing out notes with an exaggerated seriousness that makes you not pay attention to him.

“You know, I could just ask the director,” you say, snatching the paper back.

“But I’m more fun,” he whines, leaning back with a pout.

Then there are the quieter moments, like when you’re both reviewing scenes on his tablet, shoulder’s brushing as you sit close enough to share the screen. Or the way his hands would instinctively hand you a water bottle before you could even realize you’re thirsty.

Or when he would always stay up late at night, waiting for you to wrap up your shoot before bidding you goodbye, watching you go inside your van before minding his own way home.

“Sunbae, you don’t have to wait for me everytime,” you say one evening as he lingers beside the director’s chair, watching you finish your last take for the day.

“And miss seeing you trip over your lines when you’re tired? No thanks,” he teased, flashing you a mischievous grin.

You rolled your eyes at him, tossing a tissue towards his direction which he dodges with a dramatic flair.

Moments like this have become the norm, not just to you but to everyone else.

Everyone on set notices it. The way Yangyang’s eyes soften when he talks to you, the way your laughter is always louder in his presence. It’s in how he seems to move with you, like gravity itself pulls him into your orbit.

“They’re so obvious,” the director complains jokingly.

“Would you say anything, though?” Kun asked with a hushed tone, glancing at you both from across the room.

“Hell no.”

To the crew, it’s an open secret that no one dares to talk about. To you and Yangyang, it’s just the way things are.

And Chenle’s really worried for you.

You’re sitting in the dressing room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone while Chenle organizes your schedule for the following months. The buzzing voices and footsteps of the crew fades as you stand up for a while to close the door, creating a rare moment of peace and solitude in your otherwise hectic day, before sitting comfortably again.

Chenle sets his laptop down on the table with a deliberate thud, breaking the comforting silence.

“We need to talk, Y/N,” he says, his tone filled with urgency.

You glance up, already sensing the shift in his usual sunny demeanor. “What is it this time?” You asked, trying to lift his mood up but it seems like your manager has no time for jokes or any of your ministrations.

“It’s about Yangyang.”

You look at him puzzled, “What about him?”

Chenle crossed his arms, his expression was stern. “Whatever’s going on between you two, it’s too much. Everyone on set sees it.”

“So what if they do? People talk all the time,”you counter, feigning nonchalance, though your heartbeat races and you feel a knot tightening in your stomach.

“This is serious, Y/N,” his tone now direct, “This isn’t just about people talking. You’re putting your reputation and his career at risk!”

You roll your eyes at what he had said, leaning back in your chair. “Chenle, it’s not that serious. Even if something happens, my parents can fix it. They’ve done it before. Don’t worry.”

“See? That’s exactly the problem Y/N,” he snaps, “You’re so used to your parents cleaning up after you that you don’t even see how dangerous this is for him,” you could tell his frustration is boiling over but you don’t seem to understand why he’s angry. “Sure, you can tell everyone how you’re so much more of your name or your parents. You can decline any movies or series with their name, but that action of yours. This action of yours is why people still think you’re a nepo baby.”

Your eyebrows furrow, feeling confused. “I’m not doing anything wrong, Chenle. I’m sure Yangyang knows how to handle himself.”

“Does he?” Chenle laughs at your naivety. “Do you have any idea how hard he’s worked to get here? He doesn’t have the privilege of a safety net like you, Y/N,” he pauses for a moment, trying to catch his breath. “One scandal, one rumor, and everything he’s built is gone.”

You’re quiet for a moment. The weight of his words made you understand where he’s coming from but your response only deepened the rift. “Okay, fine. If it comes to that, I’ll handle it. My parents will definitely make sure nothing happens to him either. I’m sure of it.”

Chenle was cynical after hearing what you have just said. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about who your parents can pay off. It’s about respect. Respect for his work, his sacrifices, his entire life!”

Outside the door, Yangyang stands frozen, his hand stuck on the knob. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on you and Chenle’s conversation, he just wanted to hang out with you today but instead, he got to hear your careless and out of touch words, making his chest tighten.

He hears Chenle’s voice lower, ultimately giving off the vibes that he’s intensely irritated at what you have said. “You’re so caught up in thinking everything will be fine because it always is for you. But for him? It’s not. And if you really care about him, you’d stop pretending this isn’t a big deal. Stop whatever is going on with you two, Y/N.”

Yangyang doesn’t want to hear anymore of what you guys are talking about. His stomach churns as he walks away, Chenle’s words and your indifference playing over and over in his head.

The ride home was quiet but not the quiet you wanted to have with Chenle. You genuinely can’t understand why he’s so exasperated with you when you’re just telling the truth. You can’t seem to find the problem with your parents paying off tabloids and threatening news agencies to keep the rumors about you and Yangyang out of the public eye.

And maybe, just maybe, the reason why you can’t find the problem with what you have said is because you’d never truly had to worry about the consequences of your actions. For you, it was simple: if things went wrong, you had the means to make it right.

“Chenle,” you finally broke the silence, your voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to upset you earlier. I thought I was being practical, you know? Looking out for everyone… I don’t know. Maybe I’ve missed something.”

Chenle’s hand tightened around the steering wheel of the van and you could see the tension in his shoulders. “It’s not just about you, Y/N,” he said, “It’s about Yangyang too. You have no idea how much risk he had put out on himself just so you could be close with him the way you are with him now. How he’d probably be in his bed every night, thinking when or where news would break out about you two but still continue to act like your lover day by day. You have no idea how much he’s risked for you and here you are, thinking everything can be handled with a few phone calls from your parents.”

His words stung more now, the sharpness of them cutting through your confusion. You tried to open your mouth to speak but nothing came out. This time, you knew Chenle was right. You have no idea.

“Do you really think this is just a game for him, Y/N?” Chenle continued, “I know, it’s partly my fault for letting him drive you home that night and for not giving you a heads up but I didn’t think it could go deeper. I didn’t think it could end up like this.”

“It’s not your fault, Chenle. I just… I just didn’t think of it like that,” you murmured, your voice almost too quiet for him to hear. “I just thought that… that it’s the way things work for me. I didn’t realize our situation could put him in a worse situation than me.”

Chenle’s expression softened at your confession, “I know you didn’t. But that’s why I need you to start seeing it from his side. From his perspective. This isn’t about what you can fix or what you think you can get away with.”

Betrayed is an understatement of how Yangyang feels right now. Hearing Chenle’s frustration and your clueless words earlier made his heart twist uncomfortably. Just when he thought everything was okay. Just when he thought it was okay to let his guard down for you. You just had to let him feel different from you.

“What are you going to do, Yang?” Renjun asked, sighing as he saw his talent leaning against the window of his car. He had heard about you and your manager’s dispute from Yangyang. The young man was already on the verge of crying when Renjun calmed him down, even just for a moment.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone that far into whatever we had, ge.”

“I’m sure Y/N had her reasons as to why she said those things, Yang,” Renjun tried to save you from Yangyang but he knew it’s no use.

Knowing Yangyang, Renjun’s too sure that the boy will completely distance himself from you, considering how he just realized how dangerous it is for him to fall for someone like you.

“No, ge. This has to stop. Whatever this is. Chenle’s right. Even if I hadn’t heard her talking with her manager, I can’t let things go that far, ge. I have a career to uphold,” Yangyang sighed, “What would the public think if they learned about us? It’s so scary.”

“You’re overthinking again. Try to talk things with her tomorrow, maybe it’ll clear your mind.”

Tomorrow came and Yangyang dreaded it the most. You, on the other hand, are oblivious to the fact that your potential significant other potentially heard your conflict with Chenle last night.

“Yang-sunbae!” You greeted, still clueless.

With you greeting him with a huge smile that could cure the world, Yangyang wished he hadn’t heard what you had said yesterday. Yangyang wished this could go on. Yangyang wished you guys were just ordinary people.

“I heard your conversation with Chenle,” he wasted no time. Yangyang spoke to you with the coldest tone he could muster but his insides were shaking.

“Hm?” You were confused.

What conversation with Chenle? You thought.

Oh. You realized.

Oh.

“Must be nice for you, huh? To not be worried about your career because your parents can clean your mess up,” his words cut you like a knife. He swore to himself to become calm once you met him but Yangyang felt overwhelmed.

“What are you-” you couldn’t even continue what you were about to say because he interrupted you again, his disappointment in you evident in his eyes.

“I like you, Y/N.”

Those were the words you hoped Yangyang would one day say to you but his tone wasn’t the way to put it. You felt no butterflies in your stomach because you know this is not the confession where the both of you would end up together. More like a confession where you’d end up alone.

“I like you too, Yangyang-sunbae,” you try. You hoped that he would calm down. That this revelation of feelings would soothe him and make him realize that everything is okay. That he’d realize you’re ready to risk everything for him.

But deep down, you know you’re just a fool for even confessing.

Yangyang shook his head, “I like you, Y/N,” he repeated, “But we should stop. Your manager is right. What we have right now shouldn’t continue. We’re not allowed to be like this,” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence.

A confession and a closure at the same dialogue? Yangyang is the only one who could do that.

“Yang…” but he didn’t respond. You look at his figure walking out of the set.

You cried at where he had left you. You look like a fool there, with the director coming at your direction, completely confused as to why Yangyang left so suddenly and why you were left there, sobbing.

“No amount of public hate could make me hurt the way his words did,” you cry at the director’s shoulder. You were almost shaking.

It was your first ever rejection you have received your whole life. Sure, some individuals do not accept you in this field but his rejection of you was personal.

“Why’d you do that to her?” Yangyang found it surprising that Hendery was the one to ask him why. Out of all the people in the set, this young and rude man was the first one to ask him why.

“She can’t understand me or my situation. She can never understand it,” Yangyang just replied as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply as smoke curled up in the air.

“You should have known that from the start, considering she’s a product of nepotism,” Hendery replied. Him, too, lighting up his own cig.

“She’s more than what the public thinks of her,” Yangyang argued, “But, I think I have overestimated her.”

Yangyang didn’t mean to leave you crying, he felt hurt himself. When he saw you earlier, memories of yesterday flooded his mind, overwhelming him and causing him to say whatever came to mind in that moment.

He was terrified that he would become nothing once the news about you two broke. The thought of a dating scandal uprooting all the sacrifices he had made for his career filled him with dread. In truth, he was afraid of you.

From the first time he saw you at the read-throughs, he sensed something about you could destroy him. Still, he tried until all that remained was the painful realization that you couldn’t be with him.

Hendery didn’t respond to Yangyang anymore. Instead, he just stood there while Yangyang found himself sitting with his truth in silence, grappling with the weight of his emotions. It was just him, Hendery, and the unspoken fears that lingered between you two, a reminder of what could never be.

“I know this is bad timing but the editing team accidentally deleted a kissing scene from Riko and Jun and now–” the director was frantic, almost worried for you and Yangyang but Kun calmed her down.

“Breathe,” he said, patting the back of the director to soothe her.

“Thank you,” she smiled before continuing, “I need the two of you to get your act together and film this one, just one, scene again.”

Yangyang didn’t reply, as if he’s distracted with something. You, on the other hand, gave the director a small nod.

It was the day after the confession-closure thing and you kinda accepted to yourself that while he has become wary with you, you’re still willing to accept him. Even if it takes a lifetime.

“Good morning, sunbae!” You gave him your best, energetic smile but he just gave you a nod.

“At least, he acknowledged you,” Sicheng’s makeup artist felt bad for you so she tried to cheer you up.

“Okay, Y/N and Yangyang! Give us your best shot!” The director calls, you breathe deeply before looking straight into Yangyang’s, you mean, Jun’s eyes.

Be professional, Y/N! You scold yourself.

Yangyang immediately dives into the kissing scene, leaving you no room to mentally prepare for it.

The kiss was fierce and desperate. You feel as if you’re trying to consume each other, pouring all your unspoken words and pent-up feelings into this single moment.

Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling him closer as if afraid he might disappear. He responds by deepening the kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly, grounding you both in this whirlwind of passion.

It’s as if you guys weren’t Riko and Jun. The pretend kiss was extremely intense, everyone on set felt that it was genuine than it was supposed to be. But the director liked it.

“Cut!” The director shouted and Yangyang was quick enough to detach himself from you. “That was a good one-take!”

You weren’t able to respond because Yangyang was already leading you to a secluded place.

“Hey! Wait!” You try to make him stop, “The director’s not finished talking, sunbae.”

Once he deems it’s safe enough, he looks at you before sighing deeply. He leans into you, kissing you for real this time.

Yangyang doesn’t know if this is your first kiss but you don’t care at all. You close your eyes, feeling the moment.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, breathless.

“I should be the one apologizing, sunbae.”

Yangyang inhales, looking straight into your eyes, “It’s just… it’s just I’m afraid to disappoint them, Y/N. My fans. The public. I don’t like the way they’d paint me if we’re revealed.”

“It’s okay, really. At least, you told me now,” you give him a half smile.

In that instant, you realize how much you’re willing to risk for him. You were so easy to forgive him that you’d already forgotten what he had made you feel yesterday. But there’s this thought that has been eating you since then… that Yangyang’s not ready to risk what you’re ready to give him.

“Look,” you were determined to make this right. “I know it’s complicated but–”

He shakes his head harshly, cutting you off. “No, Y/N. You don’t understand this ‘complicated’ you’re talking about. I like you, Y/N. I genuinely, deeply fell for you but I can’t afford to risk my career or put you in danger of being even more hated by the general public.”

“Yangyang-sunbae,” your voice was trembling but you still gave him a forced smile, “We can still be friends, you know?” You don’t want to be friends with him but if that’s the only way to keep him around, you’re willing.

“No, Y/N. We can’t be friends.”

“Why not?” You plead, desperate for him to explain whatever he has on his mind because he’s been puzzling you since earlier.

“Because I like you more than friends do,” he admits, his voice betraying him again.

The confession sends a rush of emotions through you, “So what does this mean for us?”

“It means…” He hesitates again, his brow furrowing, knowing that whatever comes out of his mouth next will change his relationship with you. “It means I have to lose you to protect you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the face. You want to scream that it’s not fair, that love shouldn’t come with conditions or sacrifices, but only a shaky breath left your lips.

“Yangyang-sunbae,” you say softly, stepping closer again despite the chasm between your desires and his fears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like time stands still. In those gaze of his lies everything unspoken: the love that burns fiercely but is overpowered by his fear.

“I wish things were different,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You reach out, fingers brushing against his hand, wishing for him to reconsider. But deep down, you know he’s already made up his mind.

“It’s premiere day!” The director gleamed.

“Sicheng, you ready?” You ask your lead partner.

“Ask yourself first if you’re ready,” he replied. And he’s right about it, considering how this is the first time you’re going to see Yangyang again after your closure.

The venue was filled with energy, cameras flashing from left to right, fans cheering for every cast member, and the buzz of excitement filling every corner of the room. You take a deep breath before diving in with Sicheng at the stage, reminding yourself of the work you had put into this series.

The lights were blinding you and Sicheng and you can’t even hear the cheers of your fans with your heart thumping incredibly loud and fast. As you pose for photos, your eyes can’t help but wander to Yangyang. And when you did? Your heart almost dropped.

Yangyang looked dapper in his suit, standing with his partner in the drama as well as the other cast members. He catches your gaze for a second before continuing to smile at the cameras pointed at him. You can’t help but feel a pang in your chest.

You mean, what’s the point of looking that good if there’s a distance between the both of you?

After the dashing and successful premiere of Eternal Sunshine, you find yourself at the after-party where only the crew and the cast were invited.

The atmosphere was celebratory, filled with laughter and clinking of glasses. Heck, you even heard someone say that this drama is going to be a hit and that you deeply hope. But your mind wanders to Yangyang, sitting at the side with Hendery, exchanging small talks with the man every once in a while.

You don’t know what came to you at that exact moment but you can’t help yourself. Your feet found its way towards an unsuspecting Yangyang.

You first greeted Hendery, who even though feels the atmosphere didn’t need his presence there, didn’t give a single care and continued to eat.

“Y/N,” Yangyang greeted you first.

“Hey,” you smile softly at him before leaning to his level, whispering, “I just want you to know that I’ll wait for your love, Yang.”

It was the first time Yangyang had heard you call him without honorifics, making him flustered and shocked. He was about to respond to you but you shushed him, walking towards the area where the director is to talk with her.

You know that there’s no need for further explanation because deep down inside, you're resolute: you’ll absolutely wait for his love. You like this man deeply, more than words can explain, and no matter how long it takes you're willing to endure it all for him.

COMING UP NEXT. “Yeah, but it’s so weird because you can feel the tension and I think it’d be even weirder now because they’re wrapping up the first season and Ten has to get the interesting bits while the makeup artist has to make sure Sicheng is the interesting bit.”

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