#she was mostly having a separate discussion with them while I was on the line 🧍🏽‍♀️

[sailermoon]

my mom called me, and my niece and nephew were in the room with her also, and something about the way she talks with them around pisses me off LOL and it’s not like she’s mean to them or anything the thing is she’s sooo fake and nice that it makes me mad. like who is this woman

[yeonzzzn]

I love your writing. I have a request that is based on something I read from another writer about another group. So if you don't feel comfortable writing it, I totally understand. I am just interested to know what you think of the scenario in which y/n is the 8 member of ENHA and she bets the Hyung line that she can guess who they are just by the way they have sex with her while she's blindfolded.

Alternatively, how about a scenario in which the Hyung line each take y/n on a separate date but they have a bet amongst themselves that they won't be the first to fuck y/n. But they're all down bad for y/n and the struggle is real. They all want each other to fold so they can have you. Who do you think would win the bet?

MUCH LOVE AND PRAISE. 🥰

god I LOVE the one of yn guessing which hyung member based on how they have sex with her while blindfolded.

I just KNOW the moment you even bet the hyung line you could guess who was who by the way they fuck would be driving each of them up a wall. The four of them would have to have a secret meeting together, discussing whether or not to even go through with this. mostly because you’re the 8th member of their group, you are so precious to them and so deserving and so so so kind to them and deal with their bullshit on the daily…but oh god how could they pass this up? the opportunity to fuck you? to ruin you one by one with their cocks while blindfolded? it was so hot to them. they would be stupid to turn it down.

once they decide to take you up on the offer, the boys will have to establish some rules, this was all an experiment after all.

the first rule being that the members can ONLY fuck you once. yes there can be multiple rounds after you guess who they are, but after the time is up they can’t do it again, not until each member has had their turn. each fuck has to be spaced out a couple days to keep you from being sore or completely fucked out.

the second rule is each member IS allowed to kiss you and touch you in anyway they want during sex, they just can’t speak, moan, groan, growl, hiss, whimper, nothing. not a sound until after you guess who they are if you are indeed, correct.

the third rule is none of the members can interrupt. no. matter. what. it could miss up the game on you guessing and show acts of jealousy, which no one wants. 

the fourth rule is all four of them have to be in the know when it’s time to fuck you. none of them can randomly come up behind you and slap a blindfold over your eyes and rail you without the other men knowing. it’s cheating, mostly if you are in a situation that it’s obvious on which member it is. they also have to discus with you on when it’s a good time to even experiment, every party has to be in the know and okay.

the fifth rule being the other members couldn’t be present when the other gets to fuck. this is another way to keep interruption from happening or if the boys decide to pull their hard cocks from their pants while watching you get railed and jerk themselves off and accidentally making any noises.

the sixth rule is neither of the boys can touch you in anyway, shape or form after they’ve had sex with you. once their cocks have been inside you, you become off limits. it’s another way to make sure jealousy doesn’t happen and to keep the game fair for the other men waiting for their fuck. 

the seventh and final rule is being no hard feelings in the end. because if you choose to have sex with one of them again(or even all four of them again) they each have to respect it. if you catch feelings along the way too for one of them, they have to respect it. but that is only a BIG IF on if the situation even takes that route. because you could literally just be looking to get railed by them and have some fun.

which honestly you are. the four of them are the sexiest men you’ve ever seen and you get to look at them everyday, why wouldn’t you want each of them to impale you with their cocks? plus you know each of them like the back of your hand, guessing who was who wouldn’t be a challenge.

you honestly would look forward to it each time. you knew the minute the four of them came up to you with those smirks on their faces that they agreed to the experiment and challenge, a blindfold already in one of their hands signaling that it starts right now.

each time they’ll have you put the blindfold on yourself. the boys will draw straws before hand on who gets to go first to make it fair and have it not be in any specific order.

you knew the minute his hands and lips were on yours that it was jake who drew the lucky straw first. the way his hands squeezed your waist and plump lips kissed you, it was obvious from the start. jake is a big tits guy and very big on doggy, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. The way he flips your naked body over to fuck you from behind with both his hands squeezing your breasts, biting his lips to keep from moaning out on how pleasurable your cunt was wrapped around him. “I know it’s you jakey,” you cooed, “lemme hear you,” god jake would be fucking losing his mind as he pounded into you faster, letting every moan he was holding back escape his lips as he snatches that blindfold off your eyes, placing his hand at the front of your neck to lift you up, his chest connecting to your back, making eye contact with you as he pumps his cock in and out of you, “fuck baby girl,” he growls in your ear, his tongue licking and biting at the lobe, “know me so well just by how I fuck into you, ya? with how I touch and kiss you. fuck yn” the gentleness jake once had with you was out the window as his hips snapped into place against your ass, the fingers that were wrapped around your neck now found their home inside your mouth, and his other fingers circling your clit until you came around him and he was spilling into you.

a few days will go by when the other three approach you, blindfold in hand to repeat the process. you blindfold yourself, they draw the straw and the other were sent out of the room. once again you knew who he was immediately just by the way he pins your arms above your head as his fingers interlock with yours, kissing you so tenderly with so much love. jay is such a lover boy, his hips slowly rocking against yours as he shoved his tongue down your mouth, hands squeezing yours tightly with each thrust into you. you pulled your hands from his grip, wrapping your legs around his waist and sliding your fingers into his hair, finding his ear with the darkness of the blindfold, “jay,” you whine, feeling his cock twitch inside you, “fuck me harder.” jay loved hearing his name fall from your lips the way it did, knowing just by how you called to him and how your body reacts that he was making you feel so fucking good. “shit baby,” he chuckles in your ear, sliding his lips down to your neck and back up to your ear, “your wish is my command.” he pumped himself harder into you, staying at his slow pace. his hands gripped the bedsheets when he felt your legs tightening around him and the clench of your cunt. as much as jay loved making love to you like this, he wanted to make a mess of you, mostly after you guessed right on who he was? it was so fucking hot at how well you knew him sexually even when neither of you have ever acted or spoken in any sexual way together. jay didn’t hesitate to slide his arms underneath you so he would grip onto your shoulders as he fucked into you faster and harder than before, using his teeth to pull the blindfold off from your face so you could stare back at him as you came undone on his cock, watching him as he clenched his jaw and groaned out strings of “fuck” as he shot his seed inside you.

another few days press on by, the remaining two stood before you handing out the blindfold. repeat. repeat. repeat. with the way you were pressed against the door of your room, legs spread wide by his knees, the hand he had at the back of your neck as he pressed the side of your face into the wood of the door and fucked into you at a primal rate you knew as sunghoon. he was rough as he railed you against the door, shit he was rough since the beginning. with how he pulled you from your bed and slammed you to the door and how his hands roamed, it was no doubt sunghoon. he had you moaning his name after the first few hard thrusts into you. his chest touching your back and flinging the blindfold off, “no need for this anymore,” he groaned. sunghoon knew you would guess him quickly, needing to rid that blindfold quickly so he can see the full expressions of your face as he ruined you, “come on baby, keep screaming my name. tell me how good I am giving it to you. let them know how fucking good hoonie is giving it to you.” sunghoon knew the other men were listening, he planned on it too. with the way he was fucking you against the door and how it slammed against the frame, how could they not be listening? sunghoon made it his mission to have you screaming he know within seconds of sliding himself inside you. he’d heard the moans that came from your mouth when jake and jay fucked you, he sure as hell wanted them to hear how loud your voice was getting just by his cock. somewhere along the way it became a competition to see who could get you moaning the loudest and honestly, you were here for it. “hoonie,” you screamed, feeling the drool leave your lips and slide down the door. “fuck yn, being so good for me, taking me so well.” it didn’t take much longer until you released on his cock and his movements getting sloppily until his final thrust had him unloading into you.

the last final days passed on, heeseung appeared into your bedroom and closing the door behind him. there honestly wasn’t any need for the blindfold anymore, heeseung was the last to get his dick wet and either way you’d know it was him. after each fuck the boys gathered to discuss what happened, they knew they would lose against you. you guess each of them perfectly one by one, which is where the contest of seeing who could get you to moan the loudest came into play. even though heeseung was last, it was still only fair he gets his turn. he sat on the edge of your bed, pulling you into his lap and was immediately hard at the sight of the way you straddled him. he placed his hand against the side of your neck, bringing you in to connect his lips to yours, “I’m going to take my time with you,” he whispered in between kisses, loving the way you moaned into his mouth at those words. he rid you and him of your clothes slowly one by one until the two of you were skin against skin, getting turned on just by feeling your flesh against his. heeseung moaned out your name softly as you slid down onto him, his fingers digging into your hips. heeseung didn’t care one bit that he was the last to fuck you. didn’t care about the stupid competition of who could get your vocals the loudest. didn’t care that the rules had to be bent in his favor. because honestly, heeseung was the real winner here. he still got to fuck you, got to fuck you properly at that. he didn’t have to keep his moans down or suppress them until you took a guess. he was able to be as vocal as he wanted from the moment he walked into your room. he got to make eye contact with you the entire time as he felt you up, as you rode his dick and squeezed his shoulders for support. heeseung just knew the other losers were losing their fucking shit as they stood at the other side of the door. heeseung didn’t need to get you screaming at the top of your lungs for the others to know you were fucking his cock into oblivion. “seungie,” you moaned and flung your head back, legs getting weak and shakey, “what it is my love?” he cooed, knowing damn well what it was you wanted, “wanna cum? hmm? want to come undone around seungie’s cock?” you nodded, whimpering out a “please hee,” and that’s all it took. heeseung sat up straighter, wrapping both arms around your body, using every last bit of strength in his hips and legs to fuck up into you. you slid your fingers into his hair, resting the side of your head against his, screaming his name as he hit into your g-spot. oh fuck heeseung was losing himself inside you, his head going dizzy from the pleasure. you no doubt were screaming and moaning louder than the other three got you. you were so loud heeseung was afraid he might lose his hearing in that ear, oh but fuck it would be so worth it. because again, heeseung was the real winner here. was the real winner as he made you come undone on his cock, your cum dripping out of you and sliding down his thighs. the real winner as he moaned out your name when his seed painted your gummy walls white.

jealousy was unavoidable, unfortunately. each of the four boys getting caught up in their feelings for you and how fucking good your pussy felt wrapped around them. but alas, you proved you knew each and every single one of them by how they fuck, only feeding into their egos when you tell you you undoubtably wanted them to fuck you again and again and again and again. each of the four of them brought something to the table when it came to pleasuring you, how could you deny that pleasure? mostly when you have four sexy men drooling over you and your sex. it was well worth it to challenge them.

[mirrorcatcreditcard]

ALNST analysis about Luka's "Drowing Bloom" Patreon post and his page

The following analysis is formulated in response to this query from a mutual of mine. The post states as follows:

I just read the new, free Patreon post and. huh. what do you mean "LUKA has never felt insecure in his life" lmao. isn't it official information that he used to have low self-esteem? how does "had low self-esteem" and "has never felt insecure in his life" go together. unless it's another definition of "insecure" that's being used here? I'm somewhat confused but also that's a funny sentence tbh

I'm here to talk about that, though I'll mainly be dissecting the new Patreon content.

The following content will contain discussions of Luka, Hyuna, Hyun Woo, HyunLuka, child abuse, unconventionally/potentially uncomfortable love and relationship, bullying, and social isolation.

To begin this discussion, I will clarify any doubts that may be had about the exact wording. (I haven't been able to find any translation analysis/translators who can clarify because Patreon posts are already translated, so you'll have to excuse my limited capabilities.)

In the post, Luka's "insecure" mentioned above is related to the word "uneasy" of the first sentence; but when I put it through a translator to get each word separately, they were all spelled differently while having mostly similar/related characters. The words originally came out as "unstable" when the sentences were together. When I translated them on their own, I obtained three different results.

불안합니다 "He is anxious/I am anxious."

것입니다 "feeling anxious"

불안하다는 "I feel anxious"

After wasting about an hour and writing an unnecessary amount of analysis I ended up scrapping, I come to the conclusion that they are all synonymous and simply changed for grammar reasons or clarity.

(If you care, here's a list of English equivalents for the different groupings: uneasy, anxious, insecure, unstable, nervousness, trepidation. Someone who knows Korean can correct me if I'm wrong about anything.)

Next in line, I will analyze the overall picture of Hyuna and Luka's relationship through the years. (Read also, we finally get HyunLuka analysis through the flowers + Hyun Woo mentions.)

Hyuna and Luka were intimately close as children. With the addition of Hyun Woo, the three are almost always depicted together, like inseparable friends. Hyuna consistently allowed Luka to engage in behaviors other humans saw as off-putting or disgusting around her. Lacking expressions and engagement in interaction, disregarding others' presence and emotions to the point of being physically hurtful, and constantly sucking on or biting objects and Hyuna herself—she accepted it all and even showed that she did not consider it queer/unnatural. Luka repeatedly expressed his "love" for her as possession and desires for control. He has been conditioned to believe that care/love is obsession and obedience. He is not able to force the girl he loves (physically and mentally) but wants her near him and subordinate to him so she can never have to worry again and he can control everything around her. This is in direct relation to the fact that he has no worries for his future because his path had already been set out for him since the concept of "Luka" existed.

But don't forget Hyuna's side of this relationship. Hyuna, who originally had her precious brother with her and led both Hyun Woo and Luka in playing together. Hyuna loved Luka so much that she would let him do anything he wanted, really. One of her canonical regrets is how permissive she allowed herself to be with him. People think that Hyuna doesn't love Luka anymore or simply cut it all off when her brother died. That's simply not true. The fandom has labeled them as "tragic heteros," and I think that's a fitting title. They're beautiful opposites. From the start, Hyuna has always been seen as the extroversion to Luka's introversion. She jumps into situations, and he follows.

Luka's love is insecure (translated flower-wise as anxious) because of their past and conflicting ideals. It says in the Patreon post that "LUKA thought the whole time he was away from HYUNA. About what he should have done, and how on earth he could be more connected to his loved ones than blood." I'd like to point out that loved ones is plural. Luka has loved more than just Hyuna in his life. And the loved ones he had either had someone who was blood related who he felt was closer than him (jealousy) or shedding blood seemed like the only way to have those people close to him (obsessive behavior).

Hyuna loves so strongly that the flower used means that her love is "without measure." Hyuna doesn't look back yet still holds affection and care inside, locked away because addressing the love means addressing the trauma. Her "love" also connects to the revolution and freedom. She has an emptiness inside of her, and she makes the steps to fill it with her own two hands. She will not drown in grief and let the two ones she loved most being removed from her life make her stop reaching out for her love of freedom. She was a girl with no idea what she was doing when she escaped, but she has grown into a woman who is determined to live her life for herself.

The contrast and similarity is striking.

Luka's description makes him sound weak, the image of lying down and feeling water flow over your hand comes to me. The acceptance and surety of fate and letting life be is the behavior I struggle to find a word for that isn't complacency. He feels inactive, only pondering how he could have changed things but never doing anything.

Hyuna's description sounds desperate and bold. We know from "All-In" that she still gets vivid flashbacks even when soaked in noise and distractions. She is a person who works impulsively and passionately, putting her whole heart into something. Littered with regrets—she has to push on to survive.

Yet, these two are so similar.

They held the love inside of them deep down, never speaking of it aloud except in the only ways that they know how to show themselves—song. Their flowers are both colorful because of their individual beauties that they show in their own way. It is Hyuna who was insinuated to have influenced Luka in seeing the stage as a place where he can be in control.

They are both empty due to loss, both coping by leaving the past behind and physically unaddressed (despite different mentalities behind the actions). While Hyuna doesn't look back and distracts herself, Luka wears a mask and deludes himself, and they both pretend the world is going to work out the way they need because they are in control in their own minds. They're simultaneously trapped in their ideologies, and this conflict is the reason they are the "tragic heteros" of the narrative.

Moving on, I will talk about the page whose image I will provide below. (ID in alt text, English only)

As much as I consider Herperu the lowest of low, I cannot discredit his words and say he knows nothing of Luka. He made it his personal mission to know every detail of his finest creation. Luka was tailor-made after all, with many fans theorizing that he was created in a lab/test tube-like container. While I cannot give you canon facts for something unstated, I can give you a handful of theories concerning why Heperu claims Luka has low self-esteem.

Luka may have had confidence issues from his ostracization in Anakt Garden. (He was ignored by his peers and, in an official comic, shown to be treated like he didn't exist/wasn't significant. Assuming this was normal behavior given to him in his days at Anakt Garden, there is good reason to believe that when Hyuna left/grew distanced after Hyun Woo's death, so did his only hold on interaction with a fellow human.)

Luka is conditioned to believe everything Heperu tells him unconditionally and holds onto the sentiment of how he will be no good if he isn't "talented enough" as well as his mandatory duty to be the god among men of idols. (He must always be in perfect shape in order to present himself. There can never be a flaw. His autonomy does not exist. He is a good for others to take from. He must be a model pet.)

Luka's only confidence came from his performance and acting, he had no real confidence in himself as a person, away from cameras, or off-stage. (He seems to have adopted Hyuna's philosophy of singing giving a person freedom to express how they are, seeing as he is more expressive on-stage and masks everywhere else.)

Herperu's words could be what is a common case of "assuming you know what a creature wants/is feeling from researching instead of asking directly." (Segyein see humans like humans see animals. If an animal shows certain behaviors, we consult resources in order to know how to view and approach the situation. If research told Heperu that Luka had low self-esteem, then he would believe that rather than ask his pet how he feels.)

Heperu could be gaslighting Luka into thinking he has low self-esteem or gaslighting the press into thinking Luka is "humble" or whatever.

I, personally, don't have full trust of segyein's descriptions of humans because it's obvious that they very rarely (if ever) ask the human how they're feeling or neglect to even do simple analysis of humanity. (Also, Heperu is incredibly selfish and manipulative, without a single thought or consideration being about Luka's comfort, happiness, or healthy living. Honestly, I hate that alien. I hope his dick-shaped head-body snaps in two.)

To wrap this analysis up, my conclusion is simple. It is up to a fan's interpretation to figure out whether they think Luka has low self-esteem, is in a constant state of surety, used to have low self-esteem and has now changed that state of mind, or exists as a mixture of multiple states in multiple areas. Canon's conflict stems from information we cannot fully be sure on, and the creators remark about the complexity of Luka's emotions and the inability for almost anyone. "We don't know if anyone will ever know LUKA's heart..." They admit that there is a limit and that he is a difficult creature to understand.

Extra: my personal theories

Personally, I believe that Luka has low self-esteem due to his view of himself as worthless without his trained skills and inferior to segyein by existence. I believe he has never been insecure because he has never tried to drift from the path that was paved for him. I believe he still knows that the love between him and Hyuna is insecure because of the instinct that the Patreon post mentions; it would be more accurate to use the synonyms "uneasy/unstable." He is stable/secure in his livelihood so long as he follows the life that he knows no alternative from; his relationship is unstable/insecure due to the trauma on Hyuna's end and his forceful nature; he had low self-esteem either from his peers' isolation or from Heperu's reminders that he is only worth something as long as Heperu deems it so.

Thanks for reading.

[harleyquilt]

Misreading Touka (Tokyo Ghoul Meta)

For some reason, I've been seeing more dung being thrown at Touka's characterisation in the series, and since I've been wanting to write a meta for a while now, I decided to do a short one addressing some of the criticism I've seen around. This won't go into everything, of course -- the series is far too dense with analytical potential and I am a busy bee. Just know that I do want to dive deeper into Touken/Kanetou at a later point.

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Touka is not reduced to a simple, meaningless housewife, and I do not understand why this perspective is used to undermine her character so often in the fandom. For the sake of this argument, I will be mostly focusing on her characterisation in ;Re, as that is where this criticism is mostly rooted. Yes, she is less active in the first part of the second series, but between all the other characters, events, and plot points, it is bizarre to me that people see so little in Touka, despite all that she does. 

I could dive into how Touka as a whole symbolises key themes throughout both series, and how that relates to Kaneki’s development, but I think I will save that for a separate meta. For now, I just want to discuss how Touka is positioned in the second series, and how it does not weaken the characterisation Ishida set up in the first. 

Following the end of the first series, which set its tone as a tragedy, Touka opens the ;Re café to act as a refuge for ghouls, just as Yoshimura did beforehand. To clarify, Yoshimura saved Touka from her miserable life on the streets, giving her the chance to live with some semblance of normalcy following the tragic consequences of her childhood. And now, as an adult, and with Yoshimura gone, Touka strives to recreate that environment once more. There are those that think she has done this for Kaneki and Kaneki alone, but that is clearly not the case, even if she does hope for Kaneki’s return one day; she allows Nishiki to take refuge there while he tries to find Kimi, she saves Tsukiyama after the Rosewald operation, and before anyone argues that she was still not directly involved in either case, she actively takes part in Ayato’s mission to save Hinami. It is there that she then sees Kaneki and allows him a place to stay too, following his battle with Arima. She even provides Akira and Amon a place to stay, reconciling their differences in the process, (underrated chapters, I think).

Up until this point, Touka has been forced to ‘live while losing’, and whether she decides to fight or not, it is an unavoidable outcome when it comes to war. She is simply trying to do what she can without trying to kill herself in the process – a flawed sentiment she has seen in her father and Kaneki before, and even to some extent, Ayato and Hinami.

She fights when she can, runs if she has to. She is forced to make this choice again and again, especially when the underground ward is attacked, and for the sake of her unborn child and other weaker ghouls, she must retreat if she doesn’t want all of them to needlessly die. 

That said, it is not as if she leaves without trying to fight first, she just isn’t stupidly overpowered like her opponents, (and that isn’t a jab at Ishida, I’m simply clarifying that she can’t defeat these foes with just Hinami at her side). Even then, she manages to stand her ground for a long time, despite the pregnancy and her hunger. Moreover, her kagune has developed since the first series, and like Ayato, she’s able to create more advanced structures with her ukaku. You just have to read in between the lines to see that Touka has never allowed herself to grow soft in the years Kaneki was away, and that only now, during this battle, can you see more of her capabilities.

And when Kaneki is trapped within Dragon, she finally decides that she cannot lose him – she refuses to lose him, because to do so would bring on too much despair. Just as Kaneki has prioritised Touka, Touka, too, will prioritise him, and so, even with her exhaustion, she battles against Mutsuki, digs through the Dragon’s flesh until her fingers and nails break, and almost succumbs to grief at the thought that he was already lost to her. The chapter is overlooked far too often, her desperate determination conveying to the reader the importance of love as a driving force.

Again, we saw this with Kaneki, who pushed himself past his limits in hopes of reaching Touka. Whether you like it or not, love is a powerful thing, and that has been shown throughout the series with many, if not all the characters. And for Kaneki and Touka, their love is their hope, and to lose that love is to lose their hope. So they fight, again and again, for each other and the light they bring into each other’s lives. 

Now I can argue all day about how Touka is far more active in the series than people care to admit, but I do not think that is why Touka is labelled as a housewife. I’ve been in the fandom for a long time and this label has been around long before their relationship was canonised, and I think it’s to do with the fact that Touka is clearly more feminine in ;Re. 

I’ve already explained that in terms of action, Touka still has plenty of moments to speak of, and personality-wise, I really don’t think she’s as different as people claim her to be. Yes, she’s calmer, but that shouldn’t be seen as a bad development. She’s an adult now, and with adulthood comes maturity, (or it should, anyway). She doesn’t need to fight anyone and everyone to prove herself, that is simply a childish perspective to take. Besides that, she’s still curt in the way she talks, is sarcastic and blunt, though not as harsh as she was before, and she still carries herself with plenty of pride and dignity, which was what was so appealing about her in the first series. Ffs, she confronts the whole CCG and tells them to eat shit because their arguments were annoying her. It’s ridiculous to me that people think she is a shadow of her former self, when there’s plenty of great moments involving her. 

As for her more maternal depictions, that is also something that has always been present, if you take a moment to connect the two series together. She was forced to grow up quickly when she became responsible of Ayato, and she effortlessly took Hinami under her wing after the death of her parents. This is an attribute that she continues to exhibit throughout ;Re, watching over the children and trying to comfort them. It’s a touching image, one that circles back around to her pregnancy. And to deem this progression as detrimental is rather…strange to me. In a time when we see women as strong and powerful for everything we represent – our hardships, both physically and emotionally, as well as our strengths – why is it seen as weak when female characters are utilised to represent the strength of womanhood. Because she’s a woman married to a man? Don’t be so childish. If you respect her characterisation at all, you will acknowledge how she continues to exhibit her strengths as an adult, whether that be in battle or beyond it. 

After all, Ishida could have easily written it so that she is no longer involved in anything past the discovery of her pregnancy. Except he doesn't, and instead, she fights even more, even harder, in spite of her pregnancy. Because of her pregnancy. And yet, this is somehow weakens her character? She is quite literally going beyond her limits to fight for her future, I see nothing weak in that.

It might be that readers dislike how she changes aesthetically, and that’s fine, but from that comes arguments that excuse why they don’t like her character. I could argue against every little argument I’ve seen about her, but at the end of the day, I feel like most of these points are made just to excuse a personal preference. And that is not an effective use of critical reading. You can’t make the story something it isn’t, and you can’t assume Touka was going to be a character she wasn’t written to be. If you don’t like that or disagree, then maybe this series isn’t for you and it’s time to move on. For now, at least, please give her characterisation the respect she deserves. Her role is so much more than the shallow labelling this fandom tends to give her.

[sleepy-fiction]

Silco x Ambessa Headcanons

how do ambessa and silco act in their relationship? favorite things to do, how they show their love, and what their sex life is like.

3K EST

(powerful art from seaangel00 on tt)

tgs: fluff at first, NSFW, cuddling, cunnilingus, rope play, manhandling, dom switch!ambessa, switch!silco, absolute sweetness ahead i pray you read this post!! mildly proofread

an: if u like this post u should totally check out my other Ambessa Silco post, "A Friend From Noxus"!!

Ambessa is manhandling silco when it's time for fun.

He likes it, although he tries to keep his authority. It's the one moment where he gets to fully relax in the arms of someone, dare he say, more competent and trustworthy than himself. He truly gets to let go, relinquish his power, and allow himself to be used by Ms. Merdarda.

She likes it because she gets to blow off steam. Dominating is her pride in life. She also likes how gentle he is and pliant. he accepts anything from her if it earns him her company. She's never felt so appreciated. Whether it be her preaching on hours about a topic he's not familar with or sparing with soldiers, he always listens and watches her so intently.

Their favorite activity is letting a fond vinyl play with some aged wine while chatting about whatever comes to mind. Complaining about idiot subordinates, idiot enemies, troublesome daughter worries, tales of betrayal, woes of themselves, and the future - they seem to just understand each other well.

Silco is the only man in the world, outside of her late husband, that she truly feels equal to. Their fights for power, to protect their families, and secure their birthright, however, means that it makes them quick to connect, too. Silco isn't a good man. He knows it. Ambessa isn't a good woman. She knows it. They don't try to change or fix eachother, they carry their burdens and push limits for their wants. Evil is a complex scale to them. Who can draw the line? They have similar ideals in this manner.

Their girls, ooh, their girls. Ambessa and Silco love their daughters from the bottom of their heart. They share many fond memories discussing them, sharing stories, and their favorite pictures. Ambessa admires Jinx's creativity. Her craftsmanship is sublime. And for silco, who would've guessed that the grand Mel from the council would be Ambessa's beloved daughter. But, to him, it made since considering how intelligent her mother was.

Their quiet evenings are the loveliest. They don't get to enjoy a lot of silence. Their enemies are many, their workload is intense, their cleanup is even worse. So when they have minutes to sit in silence, whether it be cuddling up at night, or reading two separate things in the same room, it always brings them at ease. Just knowing the other's presence lingers brings a sort of pride and comfort.

Their intelligence keeps them stuck like glue. Their constant playful battle of wits. Who is smarter, who is wider, who is faster, more secure. They bicker about anything (well, mostly ambessa does, silco loves to listen to her talk), and their chess matches? Phew, they can be intense. Silco's love for literature and writing, he found solice in Ambessa's brilliantly educated mind. She not only understands the thrills of complex theatre, she enjoys it. Her extensive knowledge of history and wars from places he's never even heard of can never fail to fascinate him.

He kills, she kills. They don't judge. Hell, they'll even organize strategic murders together. All to make a statement - to get what they want. Who would've guessed? Noxions can be good at putting idiots in their place, and boy do shimmer warheads make amazing soldiers.

Ambessa takes good care of him. It's no secret Silco is in poor health. He conceals it so well, it's impossible to catch him weak. After years of bonding in bloodshed, although, Silco opens up beautifully to her. And one thing about Ambessa, she will always take care of her pack. She's feeding him so well, trying to bring back the fat in his slender cheeks, and the color back in his pale skin.

Couple workouts? Oh, he hates it, but he'll put up with it for her. He knows she just wants to take care of him. And he'd be a liar if he didn't mention he loved it equally. He likes being pampered and spoiled if you will. He's not one to like dirt, let alone the dirty living that was pushed onto him, tarnishing his zeal for power in the first place. Ambessa makes sure he's got good mecidine and will always be there to help him with his shimmer injections. She's so incredibly gentle when she does it, almost makes you forget she's seven feet tall.

And, Oh, gentleness. Gentleness is the name of their relationship. Silco has always been attentive and gentle to the ones he loves. Ambessa always wants the best for her loved ones, and will be there to give a tough-love nudge. But she doesn't have to do that often with silco. Their so similar, so matured and aged in this world, she doesn't have to teach him anything serious. So this helps her blossom into trusting him more. Revealing her very sweet, gentle, talkative side. She loves to hold him in her massive arms, whisper tales to him until he falls asleep, caressing his smaller body, gazing at him so fondly.

She's the world's biggest mama bear, so it's not surprising that she's cuddly and affectionate, too. Silco's never really been a romance guy, infact he was confused for weeks when he found out she loved him. Him? Of all people? When she could have anyone at the drop of a hat? He was so boggled at the idea! So when she smothers him with her love, his brain freezes. He grew into it eventually, and though he's not vocal about affection, every now and again he'll bury himself into her while she's reading.

Or he'll cuddle up to her first, surpise her with fresh kisses when he's out the shower, or his favorite, kiss every scar on her body, and smother her knuckles with his lips. His physical affection is small compared to hers, but he makes up for it through quality time, acts of service, and always sticking close by.

Sex. Holy hell. It's magical. They battle for authority everytime. Silco was always a switch, but Ambessa? She always knew she was dominant- or so she thought? There were many times where she'd lose to his pussy eating, letting him take the lead and do the impossible- put her in doggy style!! God was it worth it though. She wasn't aware he knew how to move his body so quickly. Silco's dick is long and skinny, and he's incredibly nimble for an old hoot.

But often times, their play consists of intended takeouts, cunnilingus (Ambessa loves to devour him), and then penis in vagina. Typically, with Ambessa rocking his socks and riding him until the cows come home. Their first time had him loose, sweating, gripping onto her gorgeous curves while she rode backward cowgirl, her favorite position. He loves it too, it's like dinner and a delicious show.

Her ass is so juicy, her tits are big and gorgeous, just as much as she likes to lick him up, God he adores doing to her. She's so perfect, so fucking hot, and it's worse she knows it. Got this white man sweating! She's so strong, too. When she pins him down, he shudders every time, reveling in her force. She could really snap him in half. It's thrilling.

She loves manhandling him. Carrying him, putting him down, pinning him. He grunts and squirms every time he knows he loses in battles of strength. But in battles of technique? He'll have her cornered every time. It's like he's memories every sweet spot in her vagina, all the places she loves to be groped and touched, and how intense or how mellow she likes it too. Like he's memorized star charts of what days she likes it sweet or days she likes to fuck like animals.

Ambessa rides him so intensely, liking the slamming, penetrative feeling so much, she forgets the joy of having her walls slowly and deeply massaged by Silco's head. On sweet days, this is what she prefers. Silco eating her out real good, then fucking her slow (only with her permission!), kissing her neck if he's behind her, or making out deep and slow for every thrust, if he's in front.

They love overstimulation, restrictions and rope play, marathon sex (silco can barely keep up at times, but he puts up a brave fight), and cunnilingus. She'll edge him for hours if he'd let her, sucking him off so deliciously.

When they make love, they make serious love. It's the sweetest, most intimate thing. Lots of eye contact, affectionate words, caressing, rubberized, tender praises on both end, and kisses galore.

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

6/10

Note: Yes,i know the picture has a watermark. it's 2 am.

W/c: 4.2k (less painful to edit!)

Rating: M (Minors DNI; angst, fluff, smut, heartbreak, heart fix? the best ending for them coming soon)

You don’t know how long you’ve stared at the blank paper. Its thin blue lines taunted you. The questions on the tiny notebook assigned to you were intimidating. You’re sitting here, at the kitchen counter, nursing a mug of tea and looking down at the paper. This is the first part of the assignment. Once you’re going to fail. There are several steps Cheryl gave to get things going for both of you. Answer the questions. Find something both of you like to do. Discuss them together. That should be easy, right? Wrong. It’s been four days and counting and you have yet to write anything. Not that there’s nothing to write. No. You have a lot to say. It just can’t be on paper. Neither of you has been good at expressing your thoughts. You’re worse. You come from a family where conflict was solved with abandonment and passive aggressiveness. Two things you do quite well. This venture into vulnerability is foreign. You’re afraid of being the bad guy again. You don’t want to address the unknown. What if even after all of this you and Natasha don’t work out?

You’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting the past week. There’s always something in the back of your mind that says you’re ruining her life again. You’re ruining your children’s lives. Everything you worked for you ruined. This time would be different. You’re coming into this with a clear head and a fresh perspective. You want your life back. You want your wife back. You want your family. It’s not like you cheated. You didn’t step out of your relationship. You sometimes wish it were so easy. Maybe then your actions can be excused. That’s not the correct way to say it. Cheating is never excusable. You guess it would have been another way to avoid accountability. You blame yourself every day for what happened. Even then guilt is not enough. 

You sigh. Back to the questions. You hold the pencil in your hand—first question. 

“You lead separate lives despite living in the same household.” You read aloud. Wow. Okay. That’s a tough one right off the bat. It’s relevant. It makes sense considering the context. You write yes. You move on to the second question. “You mostly speak about finances or household chores. Question three you have sex less than once weekly.” You stop your reading right there. You’re three for three. If this is how this is going you’re going to be in therapy for a while. 

Were things really that bad? You wonder if Natasha is thinking the same things. 

Across town, Natasha is indeed wondering the same things. She’s just finished up her run for the morning, having gotten the kids out of the door and off to school, and now she has the morning to herself. She’s sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, as the notebook rests in her lap. She pushes her glasses further up her nose. 

“Sex less than once weekly?” She reads. ‘Sex never’. She writes. It’s true. Besides the phone sex last week she doesn’t remember the last time you two were so intimate. Well, she can. Emma’s fifth birthday party. She would hardly count that as something to brag about. While you’re skilled in the bedroom, she felt dirty afterward. She felt used in a way she wasn’t all that willing to share with you. Sex with you has always meant so much more to her. She hopes it’s the same for you. She doesn’t think about it for too long. She can’t dwell on the fact that her body aches for you. Natasha Romanoff knows her worth. She is aware she could go out and find anyone to fuck. She doesn’t have to go far truthfully. She doesn’t want that. It’s kind of pathetic and she would never admit it to anyone. 

Natasha is about to answer another question for the checklist when the doorbell rings. She glances at it, hoping that whoever it is will go away when the ringing becomes more insistent. Natasha rolls her eyes, slamming the book down against the coffee table, to go and answer the door. She swings it open, ready to give whomever it is a piece of her mind when she stops. She crosses her arms and glowers at her visitor suspiciously. 

“Romanoff,” Richard grins at her. “Don’t you look swell?” He admires her messy hair, tank top, and running shorts. He waves a file in his hand. “I have work.” He offers her one of the coffees in his and she takes it. 

“I thought we were meeting at the tower,” Natasha drops her hands from the door. She walks away without offering him a second glance. He would follow. What she doesn’t see is him checking out her ass as he steps inside. He closes the door behind with and walks with her toward the living room. 

“I thought this was much better,” Richard shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“I’m sure you were,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “Okay, give me a minute to change and I’ll be right back down. I have a couple of notes over there.” She waves her hand somewhere in the room. Though Richard is an asshole she knows he won’t do anything to put her in danger. She leaves him to his own devices to change out of her workout gear. Not that her new outfit would be much better. 

Richard stands, walks over to the couch to sit, and places the file on the coffee table. He spots the notebook she’s been writing in. It’s safe to assume it’s the one she permitted him to read. It’s not. 

“Healthy relationship checklist,” He reads to himself. “No sex?” He whistles. Wow. That’s disappointing. 

“I’m going to have to ban you from my house soon,” Natasha calls down the stairs. He quickly places the notebook back where he found it. Natasha comes into the living room in a simple blue blouse and slacks. She glances at the notebook, noting that it’s moved a few inches, and tsking. “Richard, seriously, you’re my partner. One I didn’t want. At least have the decency of giving me privacy.”

“I’m sorry I was curious,” He raises his hands in surrender. “If it makes you feel any better I haven’t done it in a while either.”

“No, it doesn’t make me feel any better,” Natasha shakes her head. “And I don’t believe you. You’re looking at a sexual harassment complaint and a broken nose if we keep talking about this.”

“Fine,” He shakes his head. “I just think you deserve better.” At Natasha’s warning look he clamps his mouth shut. “I need a consult. Fury wants the entire team on this case but we need your expertise.”

“Why would you need my expertise?” Natasha sits across from him. She takes the file, flipping through the pages before she shakes her head. “What is this?” 

“A recruitment center,” Richard describes. “Someone is recruiting young girls to be assassins. Training them to go out and do their bidding. We want to know the best way to, uh, get in there and get out.” He gestures. 

Natasha frowns. They could have very well asked Melina Yelena or anyone but her. She’s not an expert on brainwashed children. She only knows so much. Even then she provides him with an answer.

“You’re going to need to get someone on the inside obviously,” She says. “Preferably someone young. Wanda Maximoff could pass. She gets in. Find out who knows what. You protect her with your life. Make sure she feels safe at all times. Know that if it’s as bad as this film reads some of them will die.”

“That’s dark,” Richard comments.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and roses,” Natasha mumbles. She sets the file back down. “Is that all you needed from me?” 

“Well, yeah,” Richard nods. 

“Well, I’d like to be alone in my home now,” Natasha says none too politely. She passes him the large envelope. They both stand. She walks him to the door and to both their surprises you’re on the other side. You’re a bit off-put by Richard being there. 

“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I stopped by to..” You trail off. 

“Y/n, so good to see you,” Richard offers you a fake smile that you don’t return. 

“He’s leaving,” Natasha makes a face at him. She wasn’t really in the mood for this nonexistent love triangle thing that goes on every time you’re all in the same space. Not that it matters to her. Richard would never be someone that is on her romantic radar. Not when she only has eyes for you. 

“Right, leaving,” Richard nods. He’s about to make a joke when Natasha punches him before he can even open his mouth. He holds his sore arm, offering her an “ow!” Before he shakes his head. He walks down the stairs and to his car without another word. 

Natasha’s gaze returns to you and the brown paper bag you have in your hands. 

“Is that for me?” She asks and you nod silently. Seeing her with Richard does things to you. You follow her into the house where she closes and locks the door. She takes the bag from your hands to set it on the hallway table. You’re not sure who makes the first move but Natasha is in your arms, kissing you, feeling you, and walking backward toward the couch. Your hands are everywhere on her body. You feel the skin under her shirt, down her sides, and her hips, as you push her gently to lie down on the couch. Your kiss is hungry and rough and full of passion. She moans at the feel of your weight atop her. She kisses you back. When your hand slides up her shirt, pinching her nipple through the sports bra she’s wearing, she rips her lips from yours to moan. Her cries go straight to your core. You’re lying here between her legs, kissing her neck now, and holding her right where you want her. Natasha enjoys your touch. It excites her. It makes her feel wanted. She raises her hand to place it over yours. 

“Y/n,” Natasha begs. She doesn’t know exactly what for. She imagines it would be so easy to allow you to take her right here. Right now. The kids aren’t home. There’s no one here to stop her. Even so, she can’t help the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. “Y/n.” The tone of her voice stops you in your tracks. You lift to look into her concerned eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask. You take in her kiss-swollen lips, her mussed hair, and her flushed skin. She looks so damn sexy. 

“You did this last time,” Natasha points out. Her voice is small and barely there. You can tell she’s trying to keep the conflict at a minimum. You give her a confused look. What was she talking about? “It’s… it’s stupid.” She shakes her head. “I can't help but notice. Every time Richard comes around you feel the need to stake your claim in some way.”

“I don’t do that,” You scoff. She gestures to the spot on her neck that’s formed into a slight purple bruise. When did you do that? You deflate, sitting up, removing yourself from her embrace. You take deep breaths. Were you doing that to her? 

“I didn’t want to bring it up to upset you,” Natasha instantly misses your touch. She fixes her shirt, adjusts her bra, and moves to sit closer to you. “I don’t want you to want me because someone else does.”

“Do you seriously think that?” You question. “Nat, baby,” You breathe. “I want you because I missed you. I want you because I find you attractive. I want you because you’re everything.” You take her hand in yours. “I don’t want you to think I’m doing it to show ownership over you. That’s not something I want.”

“I want to be yours,” Natasha confesses quietly. “Just not like that.”

“I understand,” You nod. Natasha kisses your pouting lips. You smile. The notebook on the coffee table catches your eye. “So you’ve been doing the assignment.”

“I have,” Natasha glances at the paper. 

“It’s pretty eye-opening,” You say and she nods in agreement. “I didn’t think things were that bad for us. I mean, I know, we got a divorce. I just…it puts things into perspective.” 

“It does,” Natasha runs a hand through her hair. 

“I want this to work for us,” You admit. “I’m sorry. I am. I want us to work.”

“Me too,” Natasha kisses your lips again. “Did you bring your book? We could go over some of the questions now.”

“I did,” You say as you reach over her legs to the bags you brought. You pull out the book, cracking it open to the page you’ve written on, while Natasha opens hers. “So, I’ve realized a lot of these are things we’ve done at the beginning of our relationship. We seemed to enjoy each other then. Pre-kids I guess.”

“Hmm,” Natasha hums. 

“Okay, this question,” You go to one you haven’t answered yet. “Please be truthful. Don’t hold back because you think it’s going to hurt my feelings.” Natasha nods. She could do that. “Do you feel comfortable being yourself around your partner?”

Natasha bites her lip. “I have always felt I could be myself with you. There were times I didn’t think I could. That maybe I needed to play a part to, um, make you happy.”

“I felt the same way,” You mumble. “Nat, I’m -”

“You’re sorry that’s understandable,” She shakes her head. “It’s something we have to work on. I love you for you. I’ve always loved you for you.”

“I’ve always been attracted to everything about you,” You begin. “I’ve always loved your personality. Your tenacity. Your humor. Your ability to be vulnerable.” Natasha blushes under your intense gaze. She takes her pen to write a few things before moving on to the next question. 

“You rarely hug, hold hands, or touch each other in a non-sexual way,” She reads aloud. There’s a silence that neither of you breaks. “The butt rubs stopped.” She points out. 

“What?” You look at her in surprise. “I guess they have. Was that the first indicator that something was wrong with you?”

“It was one,” Natasha shrugs. “I just thought you needed space and it’s not always a sexual thing but we stopped touching each other. It wasn’t only you. I stopped too.”

“Damn,” You curse under your breath. “We could try it now? I mean, one of our exercises was extended cuddling time. Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You offer and Natasha likes that idea. She takes both notebooks to sets them down on the table. You lie down first and she crawls on top of you. Her head rests on your chest, your arms wrap around her waist, and you simply hold each other. Your shared breathing and warmth lull you to a place of comfort. Natasha wriggles her butt, silently asking for your hands on her, and you oblige. You reach down, and your right hand travels over the slope of her soft, supple behind, before you rub. It’s tentative touches at first. Just a simple swipe of your hand before your rubs turn into kneading. You massage the covered flesh in your hands and Natasha hums. 

“I missed this,” She mutters into your chest. She peeks her head up at you. Her eyes travel from your eyes to your lips. She follows through with whatever thought she’s having and she kisses you. Her kiss is gentle and reassuring. She lingers, her lips brushing against yours before she opens her eyes again. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” You kiss her again. “So much, Natasha.” She smiles widely. She can’t describe how happy she feels right now. She’s here with you, in your arms, and there’s no other place she’d rather be. Her happiness surges to something else entirely. Suddenly all she wants is you. She kisses you again, deeper, harder, this time it’s all teeth and tongue. She sucks her bottom lips into your mouth, eliciting a moan from deep inside you and your grip on her ass loosens. 

“We shouldn’t,” She breathes between kisses. 

“You’re right,” You nod in agreement. “Though she did say we could.”

“It’s not like we need permission,” Natasha smirks. “We’ve done this before.”

You shrug. She may be right. 

“Which means I know how to get creative,” You flip the both of you over in one swift move. You adjust Natasha against the pillows, her hair fanning out under her, as you lie beside her legs. “Interesting choice of attire today.”

“It was either this or the workout gear,” She laughs. 

“It’s okay, makes it more fun,” You take nimble fingers to the buttons of her blouse. Natasha watches as you unbutton to reveal her smooth skin. “Tell me to stop.” You say but she doesn’t say a word. 

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” She challenges. You slide your fingers under her bra cap, feeling her nipple harden under your palm, and she shivers. 

“I’ve always liked you,” You joke and she nips at your chin. “I love you.” You correct and she hums. Much better. You twist her nipple, bordering on harsh, and Natasha practically jumps out of her skin. God, she’s missed this. You lean your head down, pushing the cup to the side, to suck her rosy nipple into your mouth. You swirl your tongue, alternating between licking and sucking and Natasha drops her head against the pillows again. You make sloppy sucking noises, only proving to turn her on further, as she rests a hand over your head to keep you there. “I want to make you cum.” You release her nipple with a pop. 

Natasha is a grown woman. She likes sex. She enjoys sex. She’s about to throw away all of her reservations and tell you to do whatever. You offer an alternative. You button her slacks, zipping them down far enough for your hands to reach inside and you slide in. Your fingers ghost over the lips of her panties, pushing to feel the wetness seeping through, and Natasha preens. 

“Like this then?” You say and she nods. That makes it more fun. You rake your nails over Natasha's pussy, finding the small nub peeking through the fabric, and you pay the most attention to that. Natasha arches her back and forces you to press against her deeper. “You like that baby?” You ask. “Is this what you wanted?” You ask as you work your magic through the cotton of her panties. Natasha nods her head, mouth open, eyes closed in complete pleasure. 

“Ngh,” She moans her words caught in her throat, as she rocks her hips into your fingers. It feels so damn good. This entire act may seem a bit immature but she doesn’t care. Your fingers are on her, practically inside of her, and even with the thin barrier of her underwear she feels everything. You are firm in your movements. You’re purposeful with every circling of your fingers. Your movements go from small tight circles to wide and rough as Natasha moans louder. “Yes,” She hisses between her teeth. “Yes.”She whines and you know she’s close. 

“Chase it, baby,” You encourage. “You’re so pretty like this. At my mercy.” You continue. “The perfect doll. So open and wet for me.” You kiss her bare shoulder, her neck, her chest. Anywhere you can reach. It feels so dirty here. The smell of her sex reaching your nose. The sound of shuffling and moving against the cushions is the only thing heard in the entire house. You want to give Natasha this. You need to give it to her. “My pretty girl. I want to make you my pretty wife again.” You find yourself saying and it’s the right thing. Natasha stiffens, and her left hand comes to grip your right arm as her hips thrust against your fingers. Even through her panties, you can feel the sudden gush of wetness from her. Natasha whimpers pitifully as you talk her through it. “That’s it, baby. I know. Your pussy feels so good.” You whisper closer to her ear. When she finally comes down, Natasha falls limp against the cushions and you catch her. You remove your fingers from her pants, resting them by her side, as you watch the rise and fall of her chest. Natasha opens her eyes a moment later, a bit startled by the fact that you’re watching her, and she shakes her head. You kiss her swollen lips. 

“You did so well for me,” You praise and delight in her skin turning into an even redder shade. “I liked seeing you cum.”

“Stop,” Natasha groans. You chuckle. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for your orgasm,” You deny her. “I had fun doing it. I’d like to do it again soon. Maybe with that strap, you’ve been asking for.”

“I’d like that.” Natasha nods. 

“This didn’t change things for you right?” You question and she tilts her head. “I mean to say that I meant what I said about making you my wife. It wasn’t just something I was saying to get you off.”

“It worked either way,” She quips. “I want that too. With you. Someday.”

“Good,” You smile. You trade kisses with Natasha, noting her sudden fatigue until you fall asleep in each other’s arms. You weren’t exactly intending to but you know you both need it. 

************

A few hours later you’re awakened by the sound of the front door unlocking. The kids are home. You awaken first, tapping Natasha awake, and she only nuzzles into your body further. She’s not ready to move away. 

“Unbelievable,” Yelena Belova’s voice interrupts your bliss. You both pop up to see the blonde standing over the two of you with a look of disgust on her face. “I can’t believe it.” Yelena shakes her head. 

“Mommy!” Emma and Ryan chorus. Natasha makes quick work of buttoning up her shirt and pants without them seeing. It’s Yelena who notices and shakes her head. 

“Is this why you wanted me to pick them up?” Yelena asks but then she drops Emma’s backpack onto the ground. “You know what, I’m leaving, I don’t even care.” She heads for the front door. You watch in trepidation as Natasha races after her. 

“Yelena,” Natasha calls after her younger sister. “Yelena, you’re acting like a child.”

“And you’re being stupid,” The woman insults. She turns back to Natasha with a disappointed look on her face. “You can’t think one quick fuck is going to make her stay. She left you. She left your kids. I can’t fucking believe this.”

“Yelena, that’s enough,” Natasha speaks firmly. “You don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well I have eyes,” Yelena argues back. “ I think I can see.”

“She’s my wife,” Natasha pleads with her sister to understand. 

“No,” Yelena rants. “She’s your ex-wife that broke your heart.”

“And she’s trying to make things better,”

“And just like that, you believe her? You’re smarter than that, Natasha.” Yelena scolds her sister. Natasha doesn’t speak. “Don’t call me when she decides she doesn’t want to play house anymore.” Yelena walks away after that. 

Natasha watches as her sister gets into her car and drives down the street. How was she supposed to respond to that? She turns back toward the house to see you standing on the steps waiting for her. 

“That was intense,” You comment. Natasha nods. You hold out your arms for her to step into them. She hides her face in your neck. 

“Am I being stupid?” She mumbles into your neck and you almost miss it. 

“No, Natasha,” You assure her. 

“Don’t make me look stupid,” She pleads. “I won’t survive it this time.” 

“Me either,” You hold her. 

You wouldn’t give this up again. You understand that Natasha’s family has a right to be cautious. They have a right to hate you. You could only hope that they see that you’re trying.

---> next part

[thewebcomicsreview]

So, Gunwild, the writer of Cassiopeia Quinn, made a comment on that post about webcomics turning into illustrated prose

gunwildversuseverything said: I was hoping this would prompt a discussion about formats and expression, but no, it’s about artist versus writer workloads and “amount of story” being reduced to equations and word counts and update schedules. Figures.

And you know what, it's a good point. So instead of getting into the Artist vs Writers debate for the millionth time, let's take a look at how you, and artist and/or writer, can get a story told on the internet. For the sake of this discussion, lets assume you don't have any actual preference for a given medium that might influence you, you just want to know what's right for your story and will learn whatever skills you need.

TRADITIONAL WEBCOMIC

Comics are the most visual-heavy medium that a solo project can realistically do. This has several business advantages (pictures do better on social media), but it's also a good fit for stories with a bunch of things that are interesting to look at. Cassiopeia Quinn is a story heavily featuring weird alien races, cool spaceships, and attractive young women with extraordinarily casual dress codes. These are visual things! And visual things can be conveyed super quickly and subtly using visuals. Imagine just the "Cassiopeia doesn't wear pants" gimmick, if this was written out. If Cassiopeia gets a description of her appearance the first time she shows up in chapter one and then it's kind of glossed over, the reader would forget. If every time Cassiopeia entered a scene Gunwild had to go

Cassiopeia sauntered up to the motorcycle rack. Her own rack was barely contained by a dangling strip of black fabric, visible through an open orange jacket. Black elbow-high sleeves, covering her hands, matched her thigh-high stockings, separated from her black panties by her thigh pouch.

Somehow it's a lot less cute when it's written out like this, huh? And it also takes way longer to read that then it does to just look at her on the page, which increases the chance your readers might get bored. Comics are the medium that takes the most time to make and also the least time to read, which makes readers a lot more likely to put up with exposition or a plot tangent that doesn't really connect with them. Even if your comic has bits that don't grip your readers, they can grip themselves if you show them interesting bits.

The main downside of comics is the "equations and update schedules" part. They take a looooooong time to make, even compared to everything else. It's also got issues with how people read it. A comic that looks good on a desktop often looks too small on a phone.

TEXT UNDER A PANEL

This style is so strongly associated with Homestuck that a lot of people who weren't making explicitly Homestuck-themed comics seem to have been scared off it. But it's a perfectly cromulent format. It reads well on both desktop and mobile, and lets you use art for all your visuals while using text for dialogue and character thoughts. It's not, however, the best fit for every story. Because each panel is separate, it can be hard to make an exciting action scene this way, which is part of why this format is also associated with special animated pages (I mean, besides "Homestuck did it"). The panels don't really flow into each other, and there's a constant switching between looking and reading.

ILLUSTRATED PROSE

Distinguished from the Text Under a Panel Style mostly by the ratio of text to art, without a hard line demarcating the distinction between them. This style also reads well in desktop and mobile. Well, it should, but a lot of webcomics who switch to this style tend to stay in their webcomic format, meaning it's a picture of text that doesn't resize legibly, grumble grumble. I don't....I don't know if I need to explain the concept of "text" to people. You know what words are, and if you don't there's nothing I can say to explain it.

VISUAL NOVEL

I'm not going to claim to be a visual novel expert, but the main advantages are that it's the most art-efficient medium of any of these (because you can flat-out reuse art), the main disadvantages are that you'll usually need music, it's maybe not as well suited to long monologues, and most importantly that it's not a good method for drip-feed three-day-a-week updates. You kind of have to release the entire thing all at once, or at least in large episodes.

ALL OF THE ABOVE

A comic like Out-of-Placers is mostly traditional, but uses illustrated prose for lore updates. Prequel is text-under-a-panel but not always, and of course Homestuck is the absolute king of format switching, even ignoring the animations. The upside is that you can use the best format for any given scene, and that you're constantly keeping your readers on their toes. The downside (besides having to learn to do all this shit) is that you kind of have to commit to the bit and get your readers on board early with the idea that you're going to just be doing whatever this week. It's also harder to take full advantage of any one medium if you're constantly switching them up

I'm sure I'm forgetting about two hundred formats, but what are the biggest ones I'm missing?

[catras-breakup-song]

i’m not gonna lie… i’m lost here. is this supposed to be an 4nt1/cr1t1c4l post? if so, i genuinely don’t understand the point being made.

is it that playful banter is a bad thing? is it that being too hands-on violates unspoken boundaries? the message is so unclear to my autistic ass…

oh, wait, OP provided tags:

so aside from the fact that they are absolutely not sisters by default, least of all canonically (even if you do interpret them that way somehow), nor was it ever intended by nate stevenson, i’m still having trouble figuring out how this is problematic.

in which ways is lighthearted touch totally contradictory to passionate kissing/caressing? why can’t partners who are dating do both, especially in different cultural environments such as the horde where intimacy is discouraged and friendly sparring with familiar peers is a safe expression? if it’s so different, what are we as the audience supposed to interpret from their style of physical affection by the final season? side note, but aren’t we supposed to consider the latest version of anything in general as the most accurate?

now i have a question lol, did you take this moment literally at her word, and all the other times she repeated it?

also, my friend just pointed out that this is the classic homophobic talking point of "they seem to just be very good friends! they were roommates!" lmao. i've never agreed with accusing anyone who cr1t1c1z3s catradora of lesbophobia, which i'm not doing necessarily, because that's simply not how it works, however i found this funny and partially true so i'm keeping it in.

the lip bite was included unintentionally 👀

anyway, as i’ve discussed on this blog before, i’m very arospec and it’s inseparably intwined with my identity itself; i also project that onto catra. something we often bring up in that community, is romance-favorability (as its own spectrum of range all the way to blatant repulsion btw) — which is a personal preference that’s defined as exactly as it sounds like and occasionally revolves around fictional depiction as separate from one's own reality — and arguably more importantly, amatonormativity — which is an arbitrary set of rules for romantic expectations set up by an alloromantic society. this is typically thought of as common denial of the idea that someone could actually want to separate themself from needing a life partner in marriage, but can very much be applied to an annoying list of what draws the line between romantic & platonic relationships. that line is very individualistic and is to be decided on such a level only, and it doesn’t even get into what queerplatonic means, a concept saved for another day!

my point is, the OP seems to be trying to claim that catradora objectively cannot be read as romantic because their dynamic growing up & early-on in the story doesn’t perfectly meet socially-constructed standards of what that should look like. i say we need to eradicate those standards altogether! it’s up to catradora to decide what they are, if anything specific at all, not us as the audience — assuming they could’ve had the words at their disposal to knowingly describe it. going back to my earlier paragraph above about how limited they were in the fright zone, i’ll borrow a quote from a comment i made on one of my recent reblogged posts (which is a great meta on how their mutual desire was uh... definitely not platonic):

"Catra and Adora’s desire for one another is shown in a variety of ways, mostly indirect. There are a lot of glances - until season 5, not the kind of open leering at one another that we’d seen between other characters. Mostly it’s fairly playful - wiggled or cocked eyebrows, glances at each other while smirking, that kind of thing, or really intense and somewhat angry glares when they’re fighting."

it's really bothering me that i can't recall where i read this from before, but someone analyzed before how, growing up, catra & adora didn't have a good sense of how to label their relationship with accurate terminology despite being subconsciously aware that they, whether they knew the other reciprocated or not, loved each other "like that." unfortunately, they couldn't further explore it because such love & affection was seen as a punishable weakness in the horde, so they resorted to the only safe option they seemed to have, which was subtle body language and play-fighting as [testudoaubrei-blog] described above.

also, since this screenshot is included in that post... i would be amused to read an explanation of how THIS LOOK from catra is "platonic with a capital P", because i'm not even sure if it's up for debate to be quite honest with you:

ESPECIALLY with the "i always have!" line (which 4nt1s like to doubt, but i don't care, it's official!):

[pippytmi]

kacy + a break-up AU based on this prompt list: "you’re my emergency contact and i’ve been in an accident so you drop everything to come to the hospital"

———————————————————————

The thing no one says about breakups is that they're an utter inconvenience.

Kate tries to rationalize it; she was dating Lucy Tara for twelve months and thirteen days, it's only natural to have established a routine that will take some time to unlearn. So when she wakes up and reaches for a warm body that isn't there, it still takes a while to remember why. And when she makes her morning coffee, maybe sometimes she will pour the creamer that Lucy likes by accident. (By the end of the week, she will have to pour the whole container down the drain). That’s normal too. Mostly.

Lucy’s absence hits the most in the morning, but Kate goes through the motions anyway. Before Lucy she would always take her coffee outside and sit on the balcony to watch the sunrise, so she still does it. Of course now there’s no Lucy wrapped up in a blanket and insistently making her way onto Kate’s lap to sleep while she does it, but. Kate sips from her mug and watches the clouds roll in over the gloomy horizon and pretends nothing has changed.

The drive to work is quiet save for the gentle patter of rain against her windows. Her radio is still set to the station Lucy likes, and Kate hasn’t managed to change it. Baby steps—that’s all it takes. Maybe tomorrow Kate might have the courage to switch it back to her own.

And when everything at home is too loud and simultaneously too empty, there’s work. Kate gets to her desk and finds a mountain of files with new assignments, and she welcomes them with open arms; her work has always been separate from Lucy, and it's the one constant she doesn't need to readjust to.

For a blissful hour and a half, Kate is in her own world. She argues with a client about what confidentiality means (and what it doesn't). She reschedules the deposition of a plaintiff on a particularly high-profile case because opposing counsel has accidentally double-booked. She creates an Excel spreadsheet to keep track of her new cases but organizes the clients by market value. 

By all accounts, her morning is shaping up considerably. That is, until her cell phone starts buzzing.

She ignores the first call from the unknown number flashing on the screen. Instead, she gets coffee from the awful machine in the break room. The second call comes thirty minutes later, and Kate ignores it again, spends her time politely explaining how to use the fax machine to her confused new paralegal.

When her phone rings a third time—just as Kate has gotten out of a grueling meeting with the senior attorneys which should've been an email—she answers it solely for peace of mind: “This is Kate.”

There's a brief shuffle on the other end. “Hi, I'm calling from St. Joseph Hospital for a Katherine Whistler?”

“Speaking,” Kate says curtly, prepared to give a spiel about how she won't donate at this time when the caller continues,

“Oh—good morning.” More shuffling. “Is this a good time? I have a sensitive matter to discuss.”

Kate frowns even if the person on the other line can't see it. “Yes, it's fine,” she says, and watches as her work phone lights up with another call that she will just have to return later. 

“I'm calling on behalf of a patient: Lucy Tara. She has you listed as her emergency contact. She is unresponsive and we were wondering if you could come in to discuss the particulars of her care…”

The rest of the call is static. Kate almost drops her phone entirely, only grasping onto select words like they're a lifeline. Lucy is alive. Lucy is hurt. Lucy was found unconscious. Lucy has yet to wake up. Lucy is alive.

Kate doesn't even tell anyone she's leaving; she just goes. Later, senior attorney Michael Curtis will tell Kate that she looked extremely pale and sickly when rushing out of the office, but Kate will only remember a vague blur from that phone call to actually arriving at the hospital. It might be the most reckless thing she’s ever done, come to think of it.

Dr. Carla Chase is the physician assigned to Lucy’s care, and she takes one look at Kate and blinks as if surprised to see her. “Forget an umbrella?”

“I'm sorry?” Kate says, heart caught dangerously high in her throat. She's literally choking on worry—Dr. Chase’s words don't sink in until she takes a step forward and realizes she is currently dripping all over the linoleum floor.

Dr. Chase gives her a small, sympathetic smile. “Let me ease your mind,” she says. “Ms. Tara woke up. Our timeline is good, she was not unconscious for long. Has a concussion and a nasty bump, but she's going to be just fine.”

Kate breathes. “Oh,” she says shakily, and embarrassingly, hot tears spring to her eyes at the confirmation. “That's…great. Thank you.”

“You can come inside, see her. I'll go find you a towel.” Even though Kate is a sopping mess, Dr. Chase still pauses to place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze reassuringly.

Even with the worst over, the hardest part is still walking into the room—harder still is watching as Lucy looks up with those wide, curious eyes that become expressionless the instant she sees Kate.

“Kate? What are you doing here?” Lucy asks, voice not quite harsh but definitely not welcoming.

Kate opens her mouth, but is unable to form words. She's too stuck just staring at Lucy: at the bruise that colors the entirety of the swell of her cheek, at the large bandage over her jaw, at the purpling of her black eye. Any relief at knowing that Lucy is awake sinks into horror at the state of Lucy’s injuries.

“Kate,” Lucy repeats, frowning. “Why do you look like someone died?” A beat. “And why are you wet?”

“The—the hospital called me,” Kate manages. “Are you okay? How are you…how are you feeling?”

“I'm fine. I just fell down a stupid mountain.” Lucy smooths down her blanket, twisting the corner between her fingertips the way she does when she's uncomfortable.

“A mountain?”

“It's not as dramatic as it sounds,” Lucy says. “Kai and I were searching for a missing kid and we got separated, and with the rain it was muddy and foggy and…well, you get it.”

“And he left you there? Unconscious?” Kate has met Kai Holman once or twice, and knows very little about him except that just like Lucy, he volunteers for search and rescue missions to escape his normal job. Beyond that, Kate’s opinion of him is quickly going downhill.

“He wasn't there when it happened,” Lucy argues. “I already texted him and explained, but, I told him he didn't have to come see me or anything.” She stops. “So why did you come?”

“Because the hospital called,” Kate says again, which is pretty self-explanatory.

Apparently, Lucy does not feel the same way. “But you didn't have to answer the phone,” she points out. “We’re not together. You could've just said ‘sorry, she’s my ex’ and called it a day.”

Kate stiffens. “You're the one who has me as your emergency contact. It was the…decent thing to do,” she says.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Okay, congratulations,” she says, “you have done your civic duty of not being an asshole. But I’m alright, so you can go back to deep-sea diving in your pantsuit or whatever you were up to before this.”

“Hold on,” Kate says, a flare of panic overtaking any objection she might have to Lucy’s disdain (which is completely unwarranted, by the way). “How are you getting home?”

“They’ve invented a modern miracle called an Uber, not sure if you heard.” Lucy waves her phone exaggeratedly. “I’ll survive.”

It's an out, and Kate should take it. She should walk out that door and never look back, let all the unsaid issues between them continue to morph and mutate into something ugly and irreversible. But she can’t. 

“I’ll drive you home,” Kate says at last.

Lucy immediately shakes her head. “That’s not necessary,” she says. “Seriously. If you’re that against Ubers, I can call Kai and get him here in two seconds. He’d be more than happy to take me home.”

“That would be unnecessary. I’m already here.”

“And you don’t have to be,” Lucy reiterates, staring Kate down like she expects her to cave.

If it were any other situation, Kate would. She's soaked head to toe from the rain, she has no obligation to be here, and by all accounts either reason would be a rational excuse to extradite herself from this hospital. Especially the former—the chill of her wet clothes is finally beginning to catch up to her, and she blindly brushes back her damp hair while resisting the urge to shiver. It would be the rational decision to go home and change into warm clothes (and explain to her boss why she left without as much as a text explaining why).

But for once in her life, Kate isn't being rational. “I'm not leaving,” she says, crossing her arms in an attempt to look firm. 

Lucy sighs, sagging backwards against her pillow. “Come on, Kate,” she says. “This is awkward enough. I don't need a babysitter after one tiny little fall.”

“Down a mountain,” Kate says, unable to let that fact go. “What do your parents think about this?”

“I…might've not told them. Exactly.” Lucy bites her lip in an obvious effort not to wince. “I asked for the day off when I woke up, so.”

Kate blinks. “You woke up after a traumatic fall,” she says slowly, “and…asked your parents for PTO.”

“I wouldn't call it traumatic. That's such an ugly word. Limiting, even,” Lucy says. “It would've been a total badass move if it hadn't been, you know, raining.”

A knock against the wall announces Dr. Chase’s arrival, who has thankfully brought Kate that towel. “How are we doing?” she asks.

“Ready to get out of here,” Lucy says, sitting up eagerly. “Whenever you say so, doc.”

“Well, I really would recommend a CT scan to be on the safe side,” Dr. Chase says. “But given that you've passed all our cognitive tests and your vision is good, I can consider a discharge…as long as you have someone at home to monitor you today and make sure no further symptoms arise. And no sleeping until your normal bedtime.”

“I’ll be with her,” Kate interjects as she towels off her hair. Lucy looks like she might argue, but her desire to leave must win out, because she doesn't speak up.

“Fantastic. Let me get your discharge paperwork and a prescription for some painkillers—all over the counter. Then we're going to have a serious discussion about what you should and should not do, okay?”

“Got it. Thanks, Dr. Chase,” Lucy says cheerfully, but the instant the doctor leaves, so does her smile. “What was that? You obviously can't stay with me.”

“I know,” Kate says defensively, even if—for a second—she had been completely prepared to. “I'm sure Ernie or Jane can monitor your symptoms just fine.”

“...yeah,” Lucy agrees slowly, as if she had been expecting Kate to argue. Then, “Oh, shit. I actually forgot to tell Jane I'm here.” She frantically opens her phone and starts texting up a flurry, her brow crinkling as she concentrates on her screen, and Kate is brought back to movie nights spent scouring Wikipedia articles and faux-arguing over date night picks and it's…too much.

This is the opposite of unlearning; this is an all too painful reminder that Lucy Tara is no longer in her life. Kate wrings the damp towel between her hands and takes a deep breath to save face. At the very least, Lucy doesn't seem to have caught on to Kate’s internal turmoil, because when she looks up again all the cheerfulness from before is back.

Kate knows in that instant she never wants Lucy to lose that cheer again. “Everything okay?” she asks, aiming for just-polite-enough interest, and Lucy is gracious enough to allow it.

“They found the missing girl,” Lucy says, sagging backwards in obvious relief. “Thank God.” When she smiles, even if it’s down at her phone, Kate nearly tears up all over again.

“That’s great.” Kate clears her throat, places her hands in her (wet) pockets, and tries very hard to act casual. “So is Jane going to stay with you, then?”

“No—she’s the one who found the kid, she has to stay and give the police a statement,” Lucy mutters, biting her lip distractedly as she types out another message. “I’ll see what Ernie’s up to.”

By the time Dr. Chase comes back with discharge paperwork and a spiel about avoiding screens (during which Lucy noticeably peeks at Kate, like she might rat her out), Kate has already resolved herself to zero interference. Obviously it’s not what she wants, but she listens to Dr. Chase and nods along at all the right times while in her head she is already drafting a very long message to Ernie with all the relevant information. Then she drives Lucy home to that bleak apartment that Lucy lives in mostly as a general “fuck you” to her parents, which Kate swears is either haunted or infested by very spirited roaches.

The entire ride there, Lucy doesn’t say anything about the car’s radio being set to her favorite station (and which  Kate would always complain about), which is just as well. Kate isn’t sure how she would’ve explained it.

“This not sleeping thing sucks, I’m honestly dead tired with our without a concussion,” Lucy groans as she exits the vehicle, stretching her arms overhead.

Kate follows her outside, and when Lucy gives her a questioning look, she says, “Ernie’s not here yet, is he? I can at least wait with you until he does.”

“I’m sure I can survive thirty minutes alone, Kate,” Lucy says. “I won’t pass out the instant you walk away or anything.”

“I’d really rather wait,” Kate says, and Lucy sighs.

“Fine. God, I would’ve changed my emergency contact ASAP if I’d known you would be such a stickler for lame hospital rules.” Lucy wraps herself up in a  large black hoodie which Kate recognizes as her own, still muddy from the fall but otherwise intact.

“Why did you?” Kate finds herself asking, mouth three steps ahead of her head, and Lucy pauses outside her apartment door.

“You mean why didn’t I change it? Because I forgot, I wasn’t exactly expecting to land in the hospital.”

“No, why…why did you make me your emergency contact in the first place?” Kate clarifies, her voice strangely quiet even to her own ears.

Lucy methodically unlocks her door, but her hands falter. “Just because,” she says at last. “You know how it is. Anything was better than my parents. Sorry I didn’t…ask you first.”

“Well, I mean,” Kate shrugs, “I didn’t ask you either.”

At that, Lucy whirls around, mouth agape. “You made me your emergency contact?”

Kate hesitates. “Yes? After like six months. It was a practical decision, we spent pretty much all our time together and I assumed…”

Somehow, she’s said the wrong thing, because Lucy’s eyes darken. “Right.” She moves away, digging through her fridge in search of something to drink, and Kate awkwardly leans against the kitchen counter and tries to make sense of what’s going on.

“Did you eat anything today?” Kate attempts to change the subject. “I can make you something before Ernie gets here.”

Lucy takes a gulp of a water bottle and doesn’t respond, just eyes Kate from across the kitchen with a sharp, unyielding glare. Finally, the words seem to burst out: “I wish you weren’t so—fucking—” She shakes her head. “Do you even know how you sound, sometimes? No girl wants to hear that they’re the practical choice. Just once, I wish you’ve would picked me because you wanted me.”

Kate feels her entire body prickle, partly in shock and partly in indignation. “What are you talking about? I did pick you.”

“Did you?” Lucy tilts her head. “”Cause it kind of feels like you picked the idea of me. At least, that’s how Cara tells it.”

“Seriously? Cara? She—” Kate pauses to exhale, swallows back a frustrated sob. “She’s wrong. I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.” This time, her voice quivers like the sob might escape, and some of the steel in Lucy’s gaze softens.

“Then why did you leave?”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Kate says. “You were pushing me away, Lucy. What was I supposed to think?”

“You should’ve fought harder for me,” Lucy says. “You could have talked to me. Jesus, Kate, I don’t—I can’t have this conversation right now. I’m basically a prisoner in my house, this is the last thing I need.”

Kate’s shoulders fall. “I know,” she says. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that either,” Lucy snaps, and she chugs the remainder of her water before she stalks out of the room. “No apologies. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kate waits to see if Lucy will come back to the kitchen, but she doesn’t. Instead, she hears the tell-tale sound of Lucy banging around through her board game drawer, because the chess set Ernie gave her rattles and gives it away. Kate tentatively enters the living room, finds Lucy sorting through a Monopoly box, but doesn’t try to say anything else.

Lucy breaks the silence all on her own, eventually. “I have nothing to cook,” she says. “But I asked Ernie to bring food with him.”

“Alright.” Kate doesn’t sit down because her clothes are still damp, but she does wait by the couch. “Can I help with anything?”

“No.” Lucy is sitting cross-legged on the floor and carefully stacking Monopoly money into piles by color, her muddy hoodie occasionally smearing against the carpet. “I’m fine.” She obviously isn’t; her jaw is clenched, her back stiff, her entire demeanor still a perfect mirror of her anger.

Kate wisely doesn’t push. And when Ernie arrives carrying Thai food and a thick stack of books which Lucy is outwardly horrified at, Kate doesn’t try to stay.

“I’m going to send you the doctor’s discharge instructions,” she tells Ernie instead, as Lucy gingerly pokes through one of the books Ernie has handed off. “Make sure Lucy eats something before she takes her meds.”

“On it, Dr. Whistler,” Ernie says seriously, his voice going low so Lucy can’t hear afterward. “And thanks, for being there. Even if you two aren’t…”

Kate casts one final look at Lucy Tara, bundled up in her clothes and adorably pouting at the prospect of reading all night instead of playing board games, and feels her heart beat so hard it hurts. “Take care of her,” she says, but it’s not a request.

Ernie gives her a small, sad smile. “I will.” 

Lucy doesn’t say goodbye, but she does spare Kate one brief, sorrowful once-over like she wants to. Kate memorizes that look—lets it linger in the back of her mind—and doesn’t cry until the first cheery pop song from Lucy’s favorite station starts playing on the drive home.

She hits the button to turn off the radio altogether, but her finger slips and she accidentally switches stations instead. Kate eases the car to a stop at a red light, watches as rain begins to drizzle once more, and then she makes the executive decision to switch it back.

Baby steps.

[merp-blerp]

A Gaylor Interpretation of "Champagne Problems" post TTPD

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

In my "I Look Through People's Windows" analysis, I mentioned that I wondered if the "As you boarded your train..." line had to do with "Champagne Problems" and its similar opening line, but figuring that out would mean doing a separate evaluation on it. Well, here you go! I promise I'll one day stop thinking about TTPD, okay? Scouts honor. 🤞😜

This one is mostly to quench my own intrigue, I'm aware it's a bit of a stretch.

"You booked the night train for a reason / So you could sit there in this hurt / Bustling crowds or silent sleepers / You're not sure which is worse"

While this might not be the lens Taylor and ✨William Bowery✨ wrote this song in, I wanted to try my hand at seeing this song through the eyes of being about Taylor's fandom(s). Based on my "ILTPW" analysis, gaylors are the ones boarding the train in her mind, sitting in their hurt from the fallout of the failed coming out. Taylor knows that the gaylors don't know what would be worse: if tons of other fans crowding them with "I told you so" type comments, "Bustling crowds", or people not even noticing/hearing the coming out attempts to sneer, "silent sleepers".

"Because I dropped your hand while dancing / Left you out there standing / Crestfallen on the landing / Champagne problems / Your mom's ring in your pocket / My picture in your wallet / Your heart was glass, I dropped it / Champagne problems"

Taylor feels like she abandoned her community by not coming out. She dropped their hand and left them disappointed. Champagne can symbolize celebration and eliteness, often associated with rich individuals, but has also been used to highlight the fakeness of its drinkers. Alexander Pushkin's novel, Eugene Onegin, quotes, "I am no longer up to champagne... (it is) sparkling, flighty, vivacious, wayward - and not to be trusted." Therefore the "Champagne problems" might be the issue of Taylor being a big star getting in the way of her being able to be out and human. Or just fakeness in general.

Rings have taken their spot in sapphic history, specifically signet pinky rings and thumb rings. Taylor has a very close relationship with her fans, them often joking, or even genuinely feeling as if Taylor's like a best friend, sister, or mother to them. "Your mom's ring in your pocket" could be Taylor illustrating gaylors as keeping Taylor's pinky or thumb ring, or her queerness, close in their pocket, as she isn't out and discussion of her possible queerness mostly stays in gaylor circles.

"My picture in your wallet" in this reading could be the money that fans spend on Taylor, whether it's albums, tours, merch, etc. If gaylors believe in Taylor, they might spend money on her, so she's in their wallet.

"You told your family for a reason / You couldn't keep it in / Your sister splashed out on the bottle / Now no one's celebrating / Dom Pérignon, you brought it / No crowd of friends applauded / Your hometown skeptics called it / Champagne problems / You had a speech, you're speechless / Love slipped beyond your reaches / And I couldn't give a reason / Champagne problems"

The "sister splash(ing) out on the bottle" through this lens to me could be fans adjacent to gaylors that aren't quite gaylors, like queer fans. Queer fans who quietly watched and noted Tay's flagging and waited to see if something would happen, only for nothing to transpire, so they moved forward with being fans. This would've included me at the time. "Splash out on the bottle" can mean to pay a lot of money for the bottle or to pop it open. I'm going to go with opening it in this situation. Through the lyrics, it seems like the "you" in this song brought the bottle of Dom Pérignon, and the "sister" opened it. Gaylors spread the word that Taylor could be coming out and casual queer fans opened the bottle to prepare to celebrate.

While gaylor discussion mostly stays in the community, gaylors have definitely attempted to discuss it in other swiftie, or "family", spaces. From our perspective, it's exciting to think about the queerness sprinkled in her songs, and while I admit that I wasn't fully here for it, I imagine the Lover era was particularly exciting. It looked like she was going to come out, flagging all too obvious for the fans to brush it off. You can't keep the excitement in. But a speech never happened and Taylor continued to beard, so in the public's eyes she's strictly straight somehow. She tried and arguably came out through visual means, but never got to say anything if she planned to (which I think she did because of "a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you" from "The Archer"), and socially, if you don't come out through words you aren't really out at all, flagging be damned. Either way, no one celebrated because no one heard. The gaylors might've geared up to celebrate, but no one could celebrate if Taylor remained unseen. Anti-gaylors, or "hometown skeptics" called the gaylor theories fake, or "Champagne problems", since no overt coming out happened. Any happy speech gaylors could say to Taylor congratulating her couldn't happen. The excitement for the love from fellow queers and allies coming Taylor's way through speeches of admiration after coming out slipped away beyond gaylor's reaches. And of course, Taylor couldn't tell gaylors directly why, as that would out her in an unwanted way.

"Your Midas touch on the Chevy door / November flush and your flannel cure"

The Midas line could be taken in so many ways. To focus on the Chevy for a moment, car imagery in Taylor's music often seems to be a mode of hiding, escaping/running away to hide, and by extension misbehaving or sinning. Take "Just a boy in a Chevy truck / That had a tendency of gettin' stuck / On backroads at night" illustrating Taylor and her lover driving out and pretending to get "stuck" on backroads so they can enjoy each other alone without naysayers. So if gaylors are the "you/your" of the song, them having a "Midas touch", aka a golden touch, could mean that gaylors acknowledged, or touched, Taylor's closet, and therefore made it golden, like daylight. A Midas touch turns things gold, so her closet/Chevy door wasn't golden like daylight before the "your" made it so. Their acknowledgment of her queerness made her feel seen, or at least less in the "20-year dark night" from "Daylight".

"November flush" to me is a reference to the "Grey November" from "Evermore". A person can flush from strong emotions, as well a sickness. "You're Losing Me" has many illusions of Taylor getting sick and dying from being unseen, her face becoming grey/colorless as she dies. But when you flush, color returns to your face. If Taylor was "down since July", or beginning to die from being unheard, she could be saying that she could be saved by a cure. The cure she seems to get is a "flannel cure". I've heard really interesting interpretations about this part of the line referencing a Victorian superstition about flannel having healing properties. This possibly means that several cures for her pain were tried, but nothing could be as helpful as being seen, the "flannel cure" being fake. However I can't find a source for this Victorian flannel fact that isn't someone talking about this song, so I'd take that with a grain of salt. (But I could've just overlooked it, so if someone has a source I'd love to see it.) Alternatively, flannels, in the modern age at least, are often associated with masculinity and men, but also sapphic flagging. Maybe the "flannel cure" was gaylors acknowledging her sapphicness. Or, if you take the cure as being false, it could be the bearding/closeting/men, fake because it didn't cure her queerness, or make her straight. It just made it more overt to those who can see it, as gaylors can often see through stunts with beards. I think it could be interesting to look at this phrase differently too. Was the flannel the cure or was the flannel cured? Is it that closeting was a fake cure or that gaylors had the cure for the pain of closeting by seeing her?

"'This dorm was once a madhouse' / I made a joke, 'Well, it's made for me'"

In TTPD, Taylor makes many references to the music industry being like an asylum or madhouse. In this line, Taylor jokes that the dorm, or industry, was once an asylum, made for someone like her. Maybe it's made for her 'cause a lot of people in the industry will have covert or public mental breakdowns that they don't get proper support for. Or it could be because she felt like music was a profession she was always meant to do since she was a tween. Or because she's queer, and while they're are many queer people in the industry, many have also been closeted by the industry since it began and still are. Maybe the joke says "once", as in past tense, because Taylor believed that once she was out the industry would stop being a madhouse for her, but she never got her proper cure, so going into TTPD, it's still an asylum.

"How evergreen, our group of friends / Don't think we'll say that word again"

There's probably debate on which word will never be said again. For this analysis, I'm going to go with "evergreen". Taylor seemed to have viewed her fans as friends just as they did her. Look at songs like "Long Live". She asked the fans to stand by her forever, like how evergreen trees keep their leaves in all weather, or forever. But after the failed coming out and so many fans denying her visibility, she can't say she and the gaylors's friendship with those types of fans is "evergreen" any longer. "Something counterfeit's dead" (from "loml").

"And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls / That we once walked through / One for the money, two for the show / I never was ready so I watch you go"

Some of Taylor's fans will come up with rather invasive theories about what her lyrics are about. Theories about her cheating, having secret children [Edit: I feel a need to say that by "secret children", I meant secret pregnancies, just to be clearer], having secret abortions, committing vehicular manslaughter, probably etc. In the Lover house her first 10 eras become literal halls (except for Midnights, which is depicted in the sky, and I personally like to say TTPD is the white porch with the lights). The phrase "Deck the halls" means to decorate the halls. She laments that ex "evergreen" "friends" will have the nerve to decorate the eras that she and the people who saw her once walked through with creepy theories.

The phrase "One for the money, two for the show," is cut short/replaced without the numbers three and four. The full phrase has multiple renditions, but it's generally a form of counting before an action is done, often ending with something like "Three to get ready, and four to go." If Taylor doesn't get to finish the countdown, it seems to mean that she didn't get to do her action: come out. She was never fully ready to do the action because obstacles like the master heist kept her from being able to do it the way she wanted. So she fears/watches gaylors board their trains away from her.

"Sometimes you just don't know the answer / 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you"

To me, as of currently, "How Did It End?" from TTPD is also in part about the failed coming out. In that song, Taylor admits that she still doesn't know exactly how the coming out didn't happen. Sure, she knows in a clinical sense, but sometimes you don't know emotionally. I find it noticeable that the someone in this line is on their knees, not knee. Traditionally, when one proposes, they get on only one knee. When a person is on both knees, that usually indicates deep desperation. Maybe the someone's are fans, likely of all kinds, desperately questioning why all the signs led to nowhere instead of a speech declaring her place in the queer community. How did it end?

"'She would've made such a lovely bride / What a shame she's fucked in the head,' they said"

Queer people throughout history and currently in some places are often seen by homophobes as having something wrong with them, whether it's just for taunting purposes or some genuinely believing queerness is a mental disorder. Homophobes often believe queer people are "fucked in the head".

When "they" say that "she", in this interpretation, Taylor, would've made such a lovely bride, they likely don't mean just a bride who gets married to anyone, but specifically a bride who marries a man. Certain types of homophobes won't call brides marrying non-men "lovely", sometimes not seeing them as legitimate brides at all. Heteronormative TS fans will often picture Taylor as being a "lovely bride" in the future, aka a straight bride because to them Taylor fits that hetero-girl image. If she were straight her hetero wedding would be seen as picture-perfect and idyllic. Too bad she might not be able to be that bride for them because she could be queer. While, again, I wasn't fully there during Lover, it's not hard to imagine homophobes saying things like this at the mere prospect of her being queer.

"But you'll find the real thing instead / She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred / And hold your hand while dancing / Never leave you standing / Crestfallen on the landing / With champagne problems / Your mom's ring in your pocket / Her picture in your wallet / You won't remember all my / Champagne problems / You won't remember all my / Champagne problems"

Taylor reminds queer fans that they can find "the real thing", or proudly out queer people, instead of her, someone who can't seem to leave the closet. That person won't fail them. Taylor's, or "your mom's", signet/thumb ring might stay in gaylors' pockets, as in they could still keep her potential queerness in the knowledge, but a new, out person should be the ones to have their money and time in Tay's eyes. One common critique towards gaylors is that we need to enjoy "actual" queer figures, these critique-ers not seeming to realize that many of us already do love many out queer figures, but that not meaning we can't acknowledge a potentially closeted one. Even still, Taylor seems to fear that her queer fans deserve better. "You should find another guiding light" (from "Dear Reader").

But as someone in the fandom, it's safe to say that gaylors won't be going away, even if most who were there from the beginning are gone now, new ones discover what this community truly is every day.

Thank you for reading!

[stormscience]

Dalinar, Amazing Dad to Everyone But His Kids

Ok, so I love the man as much as the rest of the fandom, but I think we need to discuss how much Dalinar dropped the ball as a father to his own kids (and still kind of does!) @andromeda-lv nailed it on the absenteeism and the alcoholism.

-He left his wife alone for her pregnancy with his second kid, and then just griped about the name.

-He made no meaningful attempt to bond with his youngest, especially after he developed medical problems around age 1.

-Then he took his 6 year old war camping for half his childhood, separating him from his sick brother and exposing him to danger AND violence.

-Then that kid got to watch his parents have incredibly dysfunctional interactions and probably overheard a bunch of arguments.

-He also got to watch his mother spiral into depression because she was a pacifist foreigner in a war camp and she was uma le to be an effective scribe because she was not a native speaker/ was probably left handed in a society that pretty much removed all use of left hands for women.

-He left his sick kid back at home in an intensely unforgiving society that would have no tolerance for a "defective" child in the line of succession (Given how the Alethi are, Renarin was probably the victim of assassination attempts as a baby to "cleanse the bloodline")

-Then he moved on to being fully absentee as the boys got older, leaving Adolin to protect a kid who absolutely got bullied while he walked around being obviously half foreign in a society that is aggressively nativist. Could have used dad, but war gotta war.

-AND kept their mom away from them a lot of the time, but it's not like kids need parents, they were only (checks notes) elementary school aged.

-Then he got their mom, the only loving and functional parent they had, killed in a genocidal rage.

-And fell hard into alcoholism while they were grieving, leaving a 9 year old Renarin scared and isolated while Adolin tried to care for him at 13.

-And fell hard into self pity until his brother was murdered and he decided to repress all of that.

-Oh and hid all of that nonsense until he published a book about it and never bothered to warn them before the prerelease got leaked.

-And he's still patronizing to Renarin.

-And incredibly judgemental and demanding of Adolin.

-And the whole family needs therapy. Bad.

-This doesn't even include the stuff about their uncle being abusive to his wife at minimum, their cousin being treated like a madwoman and then excommunicated, and both of them going to war while they were teenagers.

So yeah. Dadlinar is great. But remember he absolutely failed his two rather stellar kids and gets treated like the god of Fatherhood.

Let's see more fics exploring their backstories. Adolin started sword training with a master at 6 when the norm is 10, you think protecting his brother might have been part of that? Having the royal family bully their mother openly, did that impact them? Being left alone together so much, and separated so often? Being used to one kid nearly dying from illness, and the other one just seeing that as a child? Their parents mostly arguing via spanreen?

Just... seriously, get those boys some therapy.

[lore-o-hoe]

Hera, a Goddess Who Deserved Better:

First of all, hello to everyone still here! GOD it’s been a long time, but you now how it goes life and all that. Anyways on with the discussion and of course…

🚨SPOILERS FOR EP. 273🚨

We see Hera floating in an unconscious state having flashbacks to her time with Zeus and all the while her mother is repeatedly calling her name.

The parallels here are heartbreaking but also cathartic in a way. Hera has had a tough go of it despite being Queen of the gods. Raised to fight a war, torn apart to win said war, and being Queen of The Gods in exchange for being married to perhaps the most prolific philanderer the world has ever known.

In chapter 119 we see her being dissatisfied and frustrated with what her life has come to, feeling that she had so much potential and purpose in her younger years, only to be stifled (literally and figuratively) following the war and her marriage to Zeus.

It’s been speculated amongst the community that Hera had been the next fertility goddess before Persephone and to see that vindicated in this way in her declaration to Kronos was more than gratifying to see. I especially loved the parallels between the opening scenes of Episode 119 and this one:

It was stunning and meaningful

Also there’s more of a sense of finality to Hera’s separation to Zeus following the revelation. He paints it as protecting Hera but as always his true motivations are put into doubt.

Given his insistence on wanting to know if she loved him, it’s likely he knew from his experiences with her mother, that some kind of love based connection was necessary. And like the men in his line decided to use that connection for his own means. War or no war him withholding the truth from her and siphoning her power is enough to brand him in my opinion. And unknowingly Hera was in turn made to feel as if she needed to limit herself and power as to placate him and make him feel ‘safe’ (again Episode 119):

I could definitely be wrong, but with all this information I can’t really see a formal reconciliation between the two. And after that cute kiss with Echo as well as that somber goodbye to a comatose Zeus… I can’t see her being around him anymore in any capacity.

What’s even more heartbreaking is the words of the old harpy to Demeter back in Episode 264. When she declares Persephone the Fertility Goddess of her generation, she also states that the one in Demeter’s generation was sapped of her power before she even had a chance to fully come into them.

Zeus literally stole her youth and power from her for his own gain… god I need a minute. And his b.s about ‘keeping everyone safe’ despite his promise to Métis who wanted Hera to finally be free… is it bad I want Hera to beat him down? That may be too much to ask for.

She literally had no time or chance to discover herself and potential before she was basically stuck with Zeus and her role as Queen and goddess of marriage. While she is adept at her role and enjoys some aspect of being royalty, I can’t help but wonder what her life would be if she had her own choice? If the war had ended and she was more detached from Zeus, what would her world and future look like through her own eyes and merit?

No wonder she was so protective of Persephone, they are one and the same. I’ve always expressed that they are two sides of the same coin with Hera trying to prevent Persephone from falling into her same path that was marred with unhappiness and limited choices.

So the remaining questions seems to be what will be next for her? Past the confrontation with Kronos I’m wondering what she’ll do now know her full potential and being practically reborn? Will she return to her Queen of the gods role or will she just do her own thing for a while? But before we get there of course, her battle with Kronos is going to take center stage for the time being. While Persephone’s power/fight involved mostly nature given her ‘nature’ I wonder if Hera’s will be the same? Or with the star/space imagery will it be more space based somehow?? I’m not sure but I guess we’ll see in the next episode!

Until next time y’all! ✨

[returnofthelightt]

Hasta & The Final Girl Trope In Horror Films: A (Mini) Analysis

Here on this post, I wanted to make a short analysis on how I think Hasta connects to the The Final Girl Trope.

☆ Please note that the Final Girl Trope actually has evolved. The trope characters are not what it used to be, I will be going back to the original origins of this trope.

☆ In addition to the Hasta Nakshatra, I found that many of the women playing have Mula, Revati and Mrigashira as well. My research today only focuses on Hasta but please note it is not limited to this Nakshatra only.

☆ Many of these references that are used are personal opinions and theories. If you do not agree or have a different opinion I would love to hear it! But please be respectful in doing so.

The Final Girl Trope

The Trope Itself

Before diving deeper into the hasta Nakshatra, let’s look at the ‘Final Girl’ trope description.

The final girl in movies is usually the last person standing or is the only woman that can make exit in the movie. They are usually described as being the virgin or sexually unavailable, refraining from sexual activities, as well as alcohol and drugs. Additionally, many of the Final girls portrayed had Brunette her instead of Blonde (blonde characters - specifically women, were perceived as highly promiscuous). If not all the time, most of the final girls are known to be more intelligent or at least carry smarter decision-making. They are the first ones to sense that something is ‘off.’ As mentioned before, Hasta’s sign of Virgo, is ruled by Mercury (Mercury exalts in Virgo). Mercury rules human intellect, as it is a combination of the sun (the soul) and the moon (mind). 

If we look at even the basics, the sign of Virgo is ‘The Virgin.’ Virgin women are often stereotypically described along the lines of being pure, innocent, chaste, and so forth.

Additionally, the women have an androgynous appearance - with their names and clothing sometimes being unisex. Claire Nakti in her Hasta Nakshatra video discussed how they manifest their traits through purity and by detaching from male influence. Claire also talks about how “Hasta women like to prove their worth without needing men, as well as female power separated from female appearance/sexuality” (this can be depicted in numerous ways such as their work, appearance and so forth). Hasta picks up all external influences, analyzes them, and discriminates based on their observations. Hasta picks out men and realizes only the divinity is deserving of her.

It’s hard to exactly state if The Final Girl trope exudes the real meaning of feminism, or at least women standing up for themselves against evil. However, I wonder if Hasta’s appearance in these films unconsciously aims to reject the typical views that some males hold of women (i.e. unintelligence), and how his perception of the Final Girl often ends up with the evil male lead having to disappear to avoid being killed or eventually is killed. Claire Nakti also mentioned how many Hasta women are involved in using books or poems to criticize male behaviour, male sexuality the struggles of women opening up, and the promotion of female independence regarding intellect. The Final Girl in the film must use her wit to decipher the situation and defeat the Killer through the use of her hands.

If we decipher Carol J Clover’s book on the Final Girl trope, she does mention how the victims in Slasher films are mostly viewed as women, whereas the evil characters are males. Often these Final Girls are initially stereotyped for the male gaze at the beginning of the film, but eventually, the viewer roots for the final girl to defeat the monster. The woman becomes ‘masculinized’ when she is forced to defeat the monster by utilizing a weapon.

Carol further emphasizes this action while discussing how the killing of the monster/killer can be related to ‘castrating’ the male, which in return eliminates the ‘threat’ to the uterine. The body part that represents Hasta’s is the palm of their hand. The Hasta Nakshatra is known for manifesting outcomes with their hands. In Komilla’s Sutton book, she describes how Hasta can be related to elephants, as they use their trunk as an extra hand to complete their task. I thought this was interesting considering the quote ‘to hold something/someone in the palm of your hand,’ pretty much means you the influence or control of something/someone. The symbolism of the hand of course can be also correlated to their Deity, Savitar - The Sun God. Savitar was known to be skillful with his hands.

In all, I do think Hasta has some correlation with the Final Girl Trope, whether it would be in films or tv shows. I do think there are many of factors (my own personal ones) and others that are discussed in Clover's book. It wasnt that long, but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! Feedback would be greatly appreciated xx.

[ihavethedreamies]

From Afar | What the Heart Wants (1)

Qian Kun & Nakamoto Yuta (NCT)

Rating: Suggestive (18+) MDNI

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

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

Word Count: ~14.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Her."

After that, you were quickly whisked away.

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

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

"Training?"

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

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

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

 ~*~*~

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

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

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

~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I-It's okay."

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

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

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

~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~

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

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

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

"It's true." That was Yangyang.

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

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

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

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

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

~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Truth or dare, unni?"

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

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

"Truth or Dare, Lumei?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Aikiro nearly growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 ~*~*~

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

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

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

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

"Yuta-"

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

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

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

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

"Not anymore."

"Jinyu too, then?"

"Wasn't it her idea?" Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck off."

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

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

"Yuta-"

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

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

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

"If that's what she wants-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you know where you are?"

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

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

"How are you feeling?"

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

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

"Could I have some water first?"

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

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

"W-what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about Jinyu?"

"Jinyu?" You played along. Yuta sighed.

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

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

"Yes, of course."

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

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

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

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

"Good."

~*~*~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you help me or not?"

Yuta?

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

Was that…Jinyu?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How-"

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

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

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

"Did you know that she was…?"

"Yeah. She told me early on."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Books."

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

"Favorite animal?" Kun continued.

"Dogs-"

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

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

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

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

"They're moons." He noticed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[chaoticgoodlawyerwrites]

Preview for Siren Song Ch 19

Hey folks! I've been using a d10 to decide what I'm working on at any given time and thus was directed to Siren Song to my happiness! I hope you enjoy this sneak peak!

--

Qi Qingqi nodded one last time to Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe before turning, lifting her chin, and walking through the curtains to the applause of the assembled guests. The thick curtains closed behind her and they stepped forward, waiting for the announcement. 

“A-Yuan.” Shen Yuan looked over and up at her wife and saw her already looking at her longingly. “Thank you for choosing me.”

Shen Yuan blinked and then began to grin at her. “As if it was a choice at all.”

“Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan, Lord and Lady of the East, performers of the roles of the Phantom and Christine Daae!”

Luo Binghe parted the curtains for them and Shen Yuan walked into the room with a smile on her face. Her expression didn’t dim as they were met with quiet that was broken by a limited number of people clapping excitedly towards the back of the room.

Shen Yuan bet that it was Shang Qinghua and Ning Yingying, but it didn’t bother her. She was proud of herself and her wife and let her happiness show on her face as the crowd looked at her with complicated expressions. Disgust, apprehension, confusion, quiet admiration, veiled lust, desperate longing, hatred…all of it was present and none of it was any of Shen Yuan’s concern.

People made way for them as they entered the throng, mostly moving back while a small group actually pushed its way forward. Shang Qinghua and a tall, pale woman who must have been Mobei-Jun were the first to reach them. Mobei-Jun had long black hair that fell to his thighs and a coronet that looked like crystalized ice surrounding his head but left his forehead clear. He was large but in a way that spoke of the power of a warrior of old. Both he and Shang Qinghua were dressed in complementary gradients of blue with Mobei-Jun having his outermost layer’s collar lined in white fur that went to his belly.

Shang Qinghua was on her wife’s arm and was absolutely shining with happiness as she grinned at Shen Yuan. Then, as if on cue, both Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun went to their knees and bowed deeply to them, only just avoiding a kowtow. “Greetings to Junshang and Consort Shen,” Mobei-Jun said, his deep voice sinking into Shen Yuan’s skin. She saw a few women out of the corner of her eye shiver with the effect, so she knew that it was just an innate quality of his voice. 

“Please rise,” Shen Yuan said quickly. They did and Shen Yuan smiled at both of them. “It is lovely to finally meet you, Mobei-Jun. Qinghua has been an invaluable friend these past few weeks and has spoken highly of you. I pray your journey was uneventful, and thank you for attending tonight’s performance. Hopefully it was worth the trip.”

“Undoubtedly so, Consort Shen,” Mobei-Jun said, nodding deeply once more.

“It was amazing!” Shang Qinghua said, excitedly. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Thank you,” Luo Binghe said, bringing her other hand up to squeeze Shen Yuan’s. “I am truly lucky to have found such a talented and skilled wife. She has expressed a desire to keep singing, so you both can look forward to future concerts in court.”

Shang Qinghua clapped her hand happily at the news and Mobei-Jun looked at the action with indulgent devotion. It was obvious how much he adored his wife and it made Shen Yuan happy to know that her dear friend was loved well. “I can’t wait!”

“Mobei,” Luo Binghe said, drawing the immediate attention of her Lord. “I have several things to discuss with you. If you are willing to separate from your wife for a moment.”

“Of course.” Mobei-Jun raised Shang Qinghua’s hand to his lips briefly then let her go as he stepped to the side. “I know she is eager to speak to Consort Shen alone.”

Binghe hummed and then mirrored her lord’s action with Shen Yuan. “I will be nearby.”

“I wasn’t worried, love. Go on.” Binghe and Mobei-Jun stepped to the side and Shang Qinghua all but attached herself to Shen Yuan, pulling her through the crowd and towards where they were serving some kind of sparkling wine. 

Murmurs broke throughout the room, but Shen Yuan wasn’t paying attention to that. What she did pay attention to was Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan finding them before they could even grab their own glasses of wine. 

“Consort Shen!” Ning Yingying greeted with a deep bow. Liu Mingyuan copied her in a way that startled Shen Yuan. 

“Good evening, girls. I hope you enjoyed the performance,” Shen Yuan said warmly.

Both of them rose, exchanged a look, and then nodded to Shen Yuan. “Of course! It was beautiful!”

“Inspiring,” Liu Mingyan added. “I sparked my latent creative tendencies. I fear I may have to write a story about this night, Consort Shen. With your permission, of course?”

“You have it,” Shen Yuan said with a nod.

[mae-i-scribble]

I’ve been thinking so much about how ASTV goes out of its way to set up Miles and Gwen as both parallel and directly opposing each other throughout the entire film and going just a little feral so now I am subjecting my essay upon the internet.

First off we have the direct comparisons that can be made between Miles and Gwen as people, the way they both use that awful fake low voice to disguise themselves. Both of them have fathers that are in the police force who were at one point staunchly against spider-man and to whom they have to conceal themselves from. Both of them started out as superheroes around the same age. Both are established as people who despite having support groups around them who support them (miles and ganke plus his parents, gwen with her band and her dad (here on a technicality)) to be desperately lonely people because they can never discuss who they are in full with anyone, and who in turn feel a special connection with each other because of all these similarities in their unique situations. Both of them are also painted as anomalies, with Gwen being a Gwen Stacy who exists outside of the ‘girlfriend who tragically dies’ role given to her other universe counterparts (this may change in BTSV based on some creator statements but for now its all we have to go off of). And Miles, the kid who was never meant to become spider-man but who excelled at the role. Both of them are extremely skilled superheroes who keep up with the older veterans despite their age too.

And then we have some of the hard hitting differences. The polar opposite relationship these two have with both their fathers and with family in general. Even as spider-man, Miles has kept a good rapport up with his father and the police, if met with a little more annoyance from the police. Gwen on the other hand, has been hunting down like a criminal for most of her vigilante life, doubly so by her own father who even when confronted with the fact that his daughter is spider-woman, tries to lock her up anyways. Something we know with absolute certainty Miles’ dad would not do. Gwen’s dad is also the only family she has left, and even before that it seems that her support group was very small and limited to Peter and Aunt May. On the other hand Miles has both his parents and a lot of people he can at least call acquaintances (we see this in the first movie as he has always been a bit of a people person, well loved at his old school). We also see a stark difference in how they would have handled being told they couldn’t use the watches to visit. Gwen, clearly afraid of losing the one safe space she has left, keeps in line regardless of her own feelings because she cannot risk it. Miles, on the other hand, had he been put in a position to join spider-society before Gwen, would have gone to see her by any means- he was already trying to see both her and Peter from his own dimension.

There are some other scenes and visuals that also continue this trend, screencaps and explanations of those below the readmore.

First off we have the visual contrast between Miles and Gwen’s respective dimensions. Gwen’s world is a blur of color, the cityscape blends together only to focus on the things Gwen cares about. It’s painted together.

Miles’ world, on the other hand, while having a slight blur that is reminiscent of older comics, stands out much more sharply. And while not as distinctly colorful as Gwen’s world, its a much brighter take on our everyday reality (mostly this one shot is not the best example).

When Miles and Gwen first meet and start talking on the bank building, this shot happens. As Gwen sits with a backdrop of shadows we pan up to see Miles standing, the archway giving him the bright backdrop of sky. Right here, as they talk about what could happen if Miles’ were to reveal his identity, visually they are on two opposite sides of one story to reflect how ideologically separated they are on this topic. There’s a physical divide between them. This is coupled by the way ATSV uses the imagery of people being oriented in different directions to show their separation. It’s used in the promo art for Miles vs spider-society, and twice in relation to Miles and Gwen specifically.

But despite their vastly different experiences, the way that their lives have played out so differently, they still have a connection, shown by the way that Miles gets down to match Gwen’s perspective. He literally meets her at her level, and by doing so they get a view that only the two of them can share. Miles is what brings them back onto the same parallel track by orienting himself to match Gwen. That divide doesn’t exist anymore.

This one is less meaningful I just kinda thought it was cute how they essentially had the same reaction to watching the Spot’s plan play out.

The most meaningful shot in this scene though once more brings back the separation via oriented in opposite directions though. The backdrop behind them is open, connecting them together, and they’re on the same level face to face. However, Miles is upside down. Rather than Gwen being the one in strong disagreement, now Miles is with the fact that Gwen would choose to abandon him without telling him anything. And unlike Miles, Gwen doesn’t have the chance to try and see it from his perspective.

The last point I want to bring up is two paralleled shots in the movie. The first being when Miles catches Gwen with his web when she falls in Mumbattan. Here, the only thing that makes the web snap is when Miles’ starts glitching, literally the only thing the could have made him drop her is the universe itself interfering.

Vs when Gwen returns the favor in Nueva York. Only this time it isn’t about the universe interfering, it’s about how she’s lost Miles’ trust so completely, so utterly, that he would rather break off this connection himself than have Gwen save him.

All these things come together to just break my heart over what’s happened to their friendship- I really want some solid resolution to just how much both Gwen and Peter have hurt Miles in the next movie. But also the levels this movie goes to show just how these two are connected to make their intense bond over such a short period more believable is just superior film making at its best. If anyone has more examples I didn’t point out here please let me know I would love to see them.