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yourstardarling · 8 months ago

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Lilith Analysis

(Lady Lilith, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-your Star Darling

(Portrait of Simonetta Vespucci, by Piero Di Cosimo)

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

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aventurineswife · 27 days ago

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can i request boothill, aventurine, and jing yuan with a jealous gender neutral reader? every time the jealousy tag is added to a fic, it’s always for the character and leaves me wondering what the opposite would be like. feel free to delete if you’ve written something like this before and thank you for your service to the hsr community 🫡

Jealousy, Jealousy

Tags: Boothill x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Jealousy, Emotional Conflict, Fluff with Minor Angst, Romantic Tension, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Protective Partner, Light Humor (?).

Warnings: Mild jealousy and insecurity themes, Brief mentions of violence or conflict(?), Emotional vulnerability, Slight suggestive undertones (Aventurine's part).

A/N: Totally get you because there's not many fics out there where Reader is the ONE who's jealous 🫣, I did the opposite one where the characters were jealous so this my first time writing where the Reader is jealous. Hope you love it!

The smoky haze of the cantina mingled with the scent of leather and gunpowder, a typical night for Boothill. The Galaxy Ranger leaned against the bar, his mechanical fingers tracing the rim of a half-full glass of whiskey. You stood nearby, trying to keep your composure as a stranger—a suave-looking gunslinger—sidled up to Boothill with a sly grin.

“You’ve got quite the reputation,” the stranger drawled, tipping their hat. “A sharpshooter like you must’ve broken a few hearts.”

Boothill chuckled, showing his shark-like teeth. “Nah, hearts ain’t my target. Bullets don’t play favorites.”

The stranger laughed and leaned closer, their words drowned out by the raucous music, but their intentions were crystal clear. Your chest tightened as you watched Boothill’s sharp eyes glint with amusement.

“Hey,” you interrupted, your voice steady but laced with irritation. “Boothill, aren’t you forgetting something?”

He turned to you, eyebrow raised. “What’s that, partner?”

“That I’m the only one who gets to sit that close to you.” you said firmly, crossing your arms.

Boothill’s grin widened as he pushed the stranger back with a mechanical hand. “Well, ain’t that somethin’? Looks like I’m already claimed.” He stood, draping his arm around your shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to find another cowboy to sweet-talk.”

The stranger huffed and walked off, leaving you and Boothill alone. He leaned closer, his voice soft and teasing. “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, sugar.”

You jabbed a finger at his chest. “Maybe if you weren’t so charming, I wouldn’t have to be.”

Boothill laughed, his voice rich and warm. “Don’t you worry. You’re the only one who’s got a claim on this gunslinger.”

The roulette wheel spun, its clinking sound echoing through the luxurious casino. Aventurine stood at the center of attention, effortlessly charming the crowd with his flamboyant gestures and glittering smile. His eyes glinted as he placed another bet, drawing cheers from his admirers.

You stood on the sidelines, your jaw clenched as a particularly bold admirer leaned over, whispering something in his ear. Aventurine’s laughter rang out, smooth and melodious, but it only fueled the fire simmering within you.

You strode forward, catching his wrist just as he reached for another stack of chips. “Having fun?” you asked, your tone sharp enough to slice through his entourage's chatter.

Aventurine blinked, then grinned, clearly amused by your sudden intrusion. “Ah, my lucky charm,” he said, pulling you closer. “Jealous, are we?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be if you weren’t flirting with half the casino.” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, his expression equal parts playful and sincere. “Now, now. You know there’s only one person I’m truly invested in.”

“Then maybe show it more often,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd still watching him with longing gazes.

Aventurine chuckled and leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “If it helps, I only play games I know I’ll win. And with you, darling, the jackpot’s already mine.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Aventurine’s charm was infuriatingly effective, and he knew it.

The sun filtered through the branches of the garden, casting dappled shadows on the stone pathway. Jing Yuan reclined on a bench, his eyes half-lidded as he enjoyed the rare moment of peace. You approached quietly, only to pause as you spotted a young soldier eagerly engaging him in conversation.

“You’re so wise, General,” the soldier gushed. “It’s no wonder everyone looks up to you.”

Jing Yuan chuckled, his deep voice smooth as silk. “Wisdom comes with age, and age comes with its own set of burdens.”

The soldier blushed, clearly enamored. Your hands curled into fists as jealousy bubbled up. Jing Yuan noticed your approach, his gaze softening. “Ah, there you are,” he said, waving you over. “Come, join us.”

The soldier glanced at you but didn’t move, still lingering too close for comfort. You stepped forward, meeting Jing Yuan’s gaze with a pointed look. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” he replied, patting the bench beside him. “We were just discussing the importance of patience in leadership.”

“I see,” you said, your voice cool. “Well, I hope the lesson was enlightening.”

The soldier finally took the hint and excused themselves, leaving you and Jing Yuan alone. He tilted his head, studying you with a knowing smile. “You seemed… displeased.”

“Maybe I don’t like sharing.” you admitted, crossing your arms.

Jing Yuan reached out, taking your hand in his. “You have nothing to worry about. My heart belongs to you, and no amount of flattery will change that.”

You sighed, feeling the tension drain away as his thumb brushed against your knuckles. “You’re lucky you’re so convincing.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “And you’re lucky I find your jealousy endearing.”

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super-ultra-mega-deluxe · 1 month ago

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Simply believing in ML, or joining an ML org, will not help when the lights go out or food runs out. How can we contend with that?

Marxism-Leninism isn't an arbitrary set of beliefs for one to adopt on a whim, it is a political theory and specifically action, part of which is in fact to "help when the lights go out" or even better, to make sure they don't! communist politics- and really any politic- are what those politics do. Marx explicitly frames it as such, as an ideological formulation that is a tool for practical application. taken outside of its context and application, Marxism is an absurd nothing, as again are all politics. i could provide examples of how communists facilitate the production and distribution of goods, or otherwise manage economics at variable scale and locale, which is rather what i assume you mean to be getting at with your question. your framing is rather nonspecific however: in what economic and political context is there a communist party contending with failures in energy infrastructure and food production and distribution?

the "help when the lights go out" strikes a particular chord, as somewhat recently the socialist nation of Cuba has been forced to contend with fuel shortages; their domestic oil production can't meet the needs of the general populace, and oil imports are inconsistent due to the US embargo. the people of Cuba are, thankfully, not becoming grossly immiserated or dying en masse despite such being the intention of the embargo. they have instituted fuel rationing and rolling blackouts to further conserve fuel and maintain essential services, such as their healthcare system. this of itself is obviously only a reactive policy; the state has also been rebuilding and expanding its oil storage facilities to better handle fluctuations in supply, and more recently they have agreed to a bilateral development agreement with China to substantially expand Cuba's nascent solar power generation. paired with their newfound partnership with BRICS- a move which undermines the aforementioned embargo in a much more material way than a UN vote- Cuba is on a path to fully meet the energy needs of its people and even expand access over the next decade.

that all said, i doubt you specifically care much for Marxist-Leninist experiments as they exist, and are more concerned with the prefiguration of politics before anything like achieving state power, and more specifically within the imperial core, where denying the possibility of effecting revolutionary politics is the most prominent. there are not presently many Marxist-Leninist parties of note in the US, the imperial core, but even less principled communist parties nonetheless consider the economic realities of the workers they represent first and foremost. the old Black Panthers were perhaps the closest to a truly revolutionary socialist movement in the US, and one of the policies they are most famous for is the free breakfast program and the broader Survival Programs they ran. these programs provided food and medical care and education and transportation for many who were subject to economic insecurity; the failure of these programs was a failure of militancy and counterintelligence and scope. the modernly popular if unfortunately less coherent and less principled PSL also runs health and wellness programs, such as kitchens and exercise classes and vocational programs and so on, which is their attempt at replicating such formulations.

it is rather specifically a concern of communists to organize the proletariat to provide for their own needs outside the purview of a capitalist state, and every revolutionary of note before, during, and after seizing power emphasizes such. the ability to do so pending a revolutionary moment is necessarily limited however; you cannot build an administration of economy parallel to an extant state without coming into conflict with that state. even non-communist organizations attempt to build up community programs, but they are either dissolved or incorporated into the state apparatus or otherwise operate under its purview. the ultimate goal is then as always the destruction of the bourgeois state machine and the building of a proletarian state machine, the armies of people organized in enforcing the will of the proletariat as a class, which allows for the more concrete and pointed organization of the economy broadly.

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weemietime · 2 months ago

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i am asking this in good faith

If the Bosnian Genocide is has been ruled a genocide and the death count was 33,071 people, how is what is happening in Gaza not a genocide when the number has been surpassed

Because genocide is not about the number of people being killed. Genocide is a specific legal term, and it has to have two components: 1) obviously people have to be murdered -- but this must be done systemically, as a policy (either written or unwritten) of the belligerent party. AND 2) there has to be genocidal intention to murder said people. Genocidal intention means that Party A (Israel) murders Party B (Palestinians) specifically because those people belong to Party B (Palestinians). There is no evidence that Israel has a genocidal intention. In fact, the October 7th massacre was actually a genocidal act on behalf of Hamas - Hamas committed the genocidal action and has been committing genocidal actions for over 20 years, because they specifically want to murder Jews for being Jewish. They also meet the first criteria because this is a systemic policy that is present in the Hamas Charter.

This is very important to distinguish because whilst genocide is a war crime, not all war crimes are genocide. Israel has committed war crimes, including murdering civilians, and even intentionally allowing civilians to be killed (such as bombing a house with a Hamas member in it and killing his family members). But this is not sufficient to rise to the criteria of genocide. We could make the argument that there is ethnic cleansing, because the vast majority of the people being evacuated are of a single ethnicity, Palestinian. However, again, ethnic cleansing alone is not sufficient to rise to the definition of genocide.

Crucially, the ICJ has not ruled that there is a genocide ongoing. They have ruled prima facie that 1) South Africa has the right to accuse Israel of genocide, and 2) that the ICJ itself is fit to hear and rule on the accusation. They have also ordered Hamas to release the civilian hostages, so if Hamas is saying they want to abide by the ICJ, they have already disregarded the ICJ ruling.

Genocide is not based on vibes. It's not based on bad feelings. It's not based on videos and images of dead kids, or destroyed rubble. Genocide is a specific legal term that can only be applied to the above scenario, and it cheapens our language when we levy it in circumstances where it does not apply. It especially cheapens our language when we engage in Holocaust inversion by claiming Israel is doing to Palestine what Germany did to the Jews, which is categorically false.

Beyond this, it belittles the groups that are involved in this conflict, particularly Hamas, to treat them like they are innocent civilians when they are in fact a very well-outfitted military brigade and the official armed forces of the Gazan government with over 40,000 fighters strong, who repeatedly and loudly say "death to Israel, we want to annihilate Israel, we will commit October 7th again and again until Israel is destroyed." They are being funded by the IRGC, they are being used as a proxy for Iran, and innocent Palestinian civilians are suffering as a result. Hamas has openly said that the "blood of martyrs fuels our resistance," they have openly said they hope Palestinian civilians die in droves while they steal aid and resell it at absurd mark-ups, while they flee to Egypt and Qatar so that they don't have to get their hands dirty. They recruit and brainwash young children to fight their "holy war" to murder as many Jews as possible.

And in terms of the death toll, you have to understand that this war is being fought in an urban environment where the belligerents are embedded purposely in the civilian population, in tunnels all throughout the civilian infrastructure. Violating the Geneva Conventions by using hospitals and schools as military bases, refusing to wear uniforms, and intentionally shooting their own people and blaming Israel.

These people even play tapes pretending to be hostages shouting in Hebrew "don't shoot," which is one of the reasons why a hostage was accidentally killed by the IDF, which is then turned around to show how evil the IDF is without understanding the context that these events happen in. In normal urban warfare the ratio of civilian to combatant death is around 9:1. In Gaza, the ratio is, according to Hamas's own numbers, 4:1. Literally twice as low as the average. So, yeah. War crimes are happening. Yes. Absolutely. Genocide is not happening, at least, it's not happening to the Palestinians.

#weemie #israel #palestine #genocide #gaza genocide #hamas #ask #i/p #i/p conflict #i/p war #jumblr

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0silver0dreams0 · 3 months ago

Text

"Whispers of Devotion"

Yandere House of the dragon x ModernReborn!Reader Pt. 2

Summarized: Despite her mother, Queen Consort Alicent's attempts to control her, (your name) felt a stronger attachment to Rhaenyra and her children, which created jealousy and tension within the family. Aemond's frustration at not having a dragon fueled his anger, which grew daily, especially after Laena's tragic death. This escalating conflict ultimately led to a tragedy.

Warning: mentions blood, eye of Aemond taken out, incest, vulgar languege and a little of angst.

<< Pt. 1

Sunlight streamed through the window, accompanied by the giggling voices of small children, curious at the sight of a little baby, only a year old, as they tried to make her speak. The two children were trying to get her to say their names, each hoping that she would utter even the faintest hint of recognition, perhaps even a small peek of one of their names.

"Come on, (your name), it's easy—Helaena, or Ena, please," the girl said slowly, hoping that speaking more clearly would help. "No, no, Aegon," the boy interjected, "(your name), Aegon is easier!" he insisted, eager for her to acknowledge him.

Their efforts were abruptly interrupted by the arrival of someone else.

"What are you two doing here?" the queen exclaimed, a hint of frustration in her voice. "We were just trying to get (your name) to say our names," Aegon replied, glancing nervously at his companion. "Sorry, Mother, we just wanted to spend time with (your name)." "Well, you both need to leave now. (Your name) is only a baby, and it's best if you go and play with Aemond or someone else. Poor girl," Alicent said, turning her attention to the baby.

Before the Queen could exit the room, the princess appeared. "My Queen, what are you doing with this precious girl?" Rhaenyra asked, much to Alicent’s displeasure, as she blocked her way. "Nothing much, I just took her for a brief stroll through the gardens." "Well, perhaps she could have a playdate with Jace. He’s eager to play with her, and maybe her brothers too." Alicent furrowed her brow, and before she could refuse the offer, Viserys entered the room. "I think that's a splendid idea," he said, dismissing the queen’s look of disapproval. "Then it’s settled, isn’t it, sweetheart?" Before the princess could take (your name) in her arms, Alicent objected, "Fine, I'll go with her," as she held (your name) close.

On the way to the rooms where Jacaerys were, there was a palpable tension. No one spoke, except for the little baby, who was utterly fascinated by her mother’s hair. When they entered the room, a little boy was playing alone. As soon as he noticed someone entering, he looked up.

“(your name)! She’s arrived!” The little boy exclaimed, rushing to Alicent. “Yes, she’s here, and she brought her brother's along too,” Rhaenyra said, her eyes sparkling with happiness at the boy’s excitement. “Can I hold her?” The boy asked, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. “No, she’s too small and delicate. I don’t want—” “Please, Alicent, it will be fine. She is a dragon, after all,” Rhaenyra interjected before Alicent could protest further, swiftly taking (your name) from her arms and into her own. “Just be careful. Hold her like this,” Rhaenyra instructed, placing the little girl into her son’s arms but keeping a bit of (your name)’s weight supported by her own. “See, it’s easy, isn’t it?” she asked, beaming at Jace. “Ye—” “No! What are you doing?! She’s mine! She’s my sister!” Aegon interrupted, protesting loudly.

Before anyone could react, the little boy seized the girl roughly, causing her to cry out from the jarring movement.

“Aegon! What are you doing?! Give me the child now!” Alicent scolded him angrily. “No! She’s mine—!” The boy’s protest was cut short by the sound of a slap, prompting Rhaenyra to swiftly take (your name) back into her arms, soothing the baby. “What were you thinking?! She could have been hurt because of your foolishness! What’s the matter with you?” “But it’s not fa—” Another slap was heard, “You will be punished, young man. You won’t see your sister, play, or even leave your room for a long time.” Alicent then took her son’s arm and led him out of the room, with Helaena following behind.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m here, calm down, honey,” Rhaenyra cooed as she walked around the room, demonstrating to Jace how to hold (your name) properly. “Look, now it’s just the three of us. Do you like it?” she asked her older son. He simply nodded happily, his gaze fixed on (your name).

Just then, a maid entered the room.

“My Princess, it’s time for Prince Jacaerys’s lessons,” the maid announced. “Go on, sweetheart,” Rhaenyra encouraged. “Perhaps by the time your lessons are finished, (your name) will still be here.” With that, Jace hurried off with the maid.

Rhaenyra looked down at "her" daughter with a wistful smile. “My little girl, soon enough, you’ll be all mine. Your scheming mother won’t be around, and you’ll be with me all the time. Perhaps I can find a way to make that happen sooner.”

The rage and desperation grew with each passing year. You had become far too close to Rhaenyra for her liking. Even when she set boundaries, you wouldn’t listen. Even when she locked you in your chambers and punished you, you still wouldn’t listen. Even when she spoke ill of Rhaenyra and her bastards, calling them cruel by nature, or cursed your whore of a sister—claiming she cared nothing for duty or family—still, her precious child wouldn’t listen. Even if you were a little wary of them, you still preferred their company over hers or your brothers’. And, truth be told, she couldn’t entirely blame you. Aegon was Aegon, always deflecting blame for his own failings, jealous and cruel to anyone who didn’t fit his mould or threatened his swollen ego. Aemond and Helaena were peculiar in their own ways too, always lingering around her darling girl, bickering over who had your attention. Even Helaena, the strangest of all, wouldn’t leave your side. When you wished to rest, she would follow you to your chambers and sleep next to you, clutching you tightly, gifting you butterflies or little insects that you adored. Of course, she loved Helaena, but her oddities were sometimes too much. You were perfect—pure, intelligent, beautiful, kind—qualities neither Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, nor even Daeron possessed. And she was proud of you, proud of what you were.

But there were times when you angered her. She didn’t want to punish you, but you left her no choice. You wished to explore, to see the world, so she had to teach you that this was wrong, one way or another. You were supposed to be perfect. You are perfect, but sometimes you’re not, and that was unacceptable. That made her furious. Then she would punish you, reprimand you, give you more lessons than you could bear, or even lock you away in your chambers until you understood—you must be perfect. She believed she was only doing what was best for you, for your own good.

Even though you only wanted to be perfect, you longed to see the world, to go beyond King’s Landing, even if it was just to Dragonstone. But how could you do that to your mother? She only wanted what was best for you.

“(Your name)! What’s this?” Alicent stormed into the girl’s chambers. “It’s just a wooden sword, mother,” the girl answered, her face showing confusion. “You shouldn’t have this. This is not for a princess. What’s wrong with you, darling? You shouldn’t have this!” Alicent approached her, anger and bewilderment clouding her expression. “You’re grounded. You’re not to leave your room for the next two days. Maybe that will teach you how to behave.” “But, mother—” “NO MORE FIGHTING! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF IT!”

(Your name) simply stared at the floor, defeated. Without a word of protest, she nodded. Alicent stormed out of the chamber, the sound of the door locking behind her echoing through the room.

Time passed, and when it was time for tea, no one came. That was normal when you were grounded—until Rhaenyra and Jacaerys entered your chambers, accompanied by maids carrying the tea.

“Hello, dear!” Rhaenyra greeted you warmly, with Jacaerys following behind her. “We heard your mother was being difficult. What if we have tea with you instead?” Rhaenyra moved to your side, taking your hand. “But she’ll be furious, Nyra. I don’t want to be grounded again,” you replied, worry evident in your voice. With a pitying look, Rhaenyra kissed your hand. “She won’t know we’re here.”

At that, a small smile appeared on your lips as you reached for the desserts Rhaenyra had thoughtfully brought—your favourites. Jacaerys stayed close, holding your hand as the three of you talked.

“How’s your dragon? I bet they’re incredible!” you asked excitedly.

“They’re amazing! Every lesson, we learn something new! But…” Jacaerys’ voice grew more irritated. “Aemond’s been hanging around again, and he doesn’t even have a dragon. He’s just there to annoy everyone.” “Well, he is Aemond,” you said with a laugh. “He’s just a bit too obsessed with dragons. Mother says he loves them more than anything else. But could you try to be nice to him? Please? He’s still my brother.”

After you spoke, you winced slightly as Jacaerys unintentionally squeezed your hand too tightly.

“Sorry, (your name), I didn’t mean to.” “It’s alright. It wasn’t on purpose,” you said with a smile.

Even though it was never openly discussed, everyone knew about Jacaerys’ quiet obsession with (your name) since you were a baby. He always wanted to be near you, and no matter how much Alicent tried to keep you isolated with endless lessons and punishments, they always found a way to see you. Even when Rhaenyra was busy with her own baby, she would sneak into your chambers, and somehow, they always got away with it. And you were happy for it. No matter how much Alicent, Aemond, or Helaena tried to intervene.

“A pig! They gave me a pig!” Aemond’s furious voice echoed through the corridors of the Red Keep. His footsteps were heavy with frustration as he stormed towards your mother’s chambers. Your heart sank; you knew this wasn’t going to end well.

You rushed down the hall, your small feet trying to keep up. Aemond had always been so determined to prove himself, and once again, he’d come back from the dragonpit humiliated. Jace, Luke, and Aegon had gone too far this time. You always tried to keep them from fighting, but this… this was bad. His shouting grew louder as you neared the room. When you entered, Aemond was pacing like a trapped animal, his face red with anger, and his silver hair messy. Your mother stood nearby, looking pale and worried. She had tried to calm him, but Aemond was beyond listening now.

“They mock me!” he shouted, his purple eyes blazing as he turned to you. “They gave me a pig, (your name). A pig with wings! Like I’m a joke!”

For a moment, you just stood there, unsure of what to say. You could see how much it hurt him. It wasn’t fair.

You walked up to him slowly, your small hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Aemond…” you said quietly, trying to sound brave. “They’re just being mean… but it’s not because of you. You’re going to get your dragon, I know it. And when you do, they won’t laugh anymore. You’ll be so much stronger than them.”

Aemond didn’t say anything at first, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. “But when?” he muttered, his voice shaking. “When will it be my turn, (your name)? Everyone else has their dragons… and they treat me like I’m nothing.”

You could see the hurt in his eyes, the kind that words couldn’t fix. You took a deep breath and squeezed his arm gently. “I don’t know when, but it will happen. I promise. You’re not nothing, Aemond. You’re strong. You’re my big brother.”

His shoulders seemed to relax just a little, and he looked away, the fire in his eyes dimming. For a second, you thought he might feel better. But deep down, you didn’t know that his anger would only keep growing. Every joke, every cruel word was feeding a fire inside him that no one could see.

Laena was dead. She had faced complications during childbirth and, in the end, took matters into her own hands. She went to Vhagar and burned herself alive. You hadn’t seen her or your uncle Daemon since then; in fact, you had only seen him twice: once on your sixth name day, and now. You could feel how deeply this loss had shaken Rhaenyra; she wasn’t herself. Even if you didn’t want to admit it, you felt a heaviness too. Baela and Rhaena were there, their sorrow so clear it was almost suffocating, and Laenor seemed utterly lost.

You didn’t know what to do. You always tried to help everyone, but even now, you couldn’t see a way to make things better. The air was thick with grief, yet it felt distant—like a heavy fog that clouded every interaction but kept everyone apart. You walked slowly, the weight of your steps echoing on the stone floors of Driftmark. The silence seemed to carry the presence of Laena’s death in every corner of the hall. It was strange, surreal even, to be here at a time like this, when everything felt like it could unravel at any moment.

Daemon’s reaction puzzled you. His laughter during the ceremony had sent an eerie chill down your spine. Maybe it was his way of coping, or perhaps there was something darker within him. But that was Daemon—unpredictable and always impossible to fully understand, playing by his own rules.

You approached Baela and Rhaena, their small forms huddled together near the edge where the sea raged below. Their faces were pale, eyes red from crying, but they were silent now—their grief too deep for words. They looked so fragile, and it made your heart ache for them.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind. “I know I can’t make anything better, but I’m here if you ever need me.”

Baela gave a small nod, biting her lip, while Rhaena gripped her sister’s hand as if it were her lifeline. Their sorrow was overwhelming, but they remained silent, offering only a brief glance in your direction. You knew it was all they could manage right now. Still, you gave them a small, comforting smile, hoping it might bring them even the tiniest bit of comfort.

Your gaze shifted toward Daemon, who stood off to the side, staring blankly at the horizon. He seemed unfazed by the storm raging around him—the physical one or the emotional one. You couldn’t tell if he even cared or if this was just another chapter in his chaotic life—another loss in a sea of turmoil. Even at your age, you had heard the stories whispered about him: his first wife, the things he had done. But then, his gaze flickered toward you, and for a brief moment, your eyes met. Something passed between you—an understanding, maybe. No words were exchanged, but you smiled at him softly before turning away.

You moved toward Helaena, hoping her presence might offer some solace—or perhaps just a distraction. She stood alone, her eyes focused on a bug crawling on the ground, lost in her own world as always. There was something calming about being near her, a quietness that made the weight of the day seem a little less oppressive.

“Hey,” you said softly, stepping beside her. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a strange sort of wonder you couldn’t quite place.

You both stood there in silence for a while, just existing together. It felt easier that way, less forced. The grief that surrounded you seemed lighter when you were near her. Still, everything felt heavy, and the urge to escape—to be anywhere but here—grew stronger. The sea crashed violently below, the wind howled in the distance, and yet you stayed, tethered to the weight of your family, the expectations, the sorrow, and the unspoken pain that filled the air. For now, all you could do was stand and wait for the storm to pass.

Dreams filled your mind, peaceful and free from nightmares, until you heard voices and footsteps outside the room you were in. Curiosity quickly overtook caution, and despite knowing your mother would be furious, you decided to have a look around. Peeking out, you saw two heads of brown hair and two white ones—it was Baela, Rhaena, Jace, and Luke. But why were they outside at this hour? You hesitated, feeling a little nervous, but decided to follow them.

From one of the windows, you caught sight of him, Aemond. And Vhagar. He’d done it. He had claimed a dragon. You ran, trying to catch up with the others, but in your haste, you lost them for a moment. Unbeknownst to you, a knight had started following you, trying to usher you back to bed. But you were determined.

Then, you found them—and they were fighting. Aemond was holding a rock. Why? Why did he have a rock? What was happening? You were confused, your heart racing.

“Stop! What are you doing?!” you shouted, your voice desperate as you tried to understand the chaos in front of you.

Aemond turned to look at you, his face a mixture of anger and pain, but before he could respond, dust was thrown into his eyes.

And then it happened—the dagger slashed across his face, slicing through his eye.

“No! What have you done?!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, rushing towards Aemond, trying to help him, panic rising in your chest.

"Let me see, Prince, let me see," the knight said, appearing beside you as he tried to assist your brother, his voice urgent.

You were scared, your hands trembling as you reached out to Aemond, but there was nothing you could do. His eye was gone.

You were still trembling when the knight led you back into the hall where everyone had gathered. The air was thick with tension, and the weight of what had just happened made it hard to breathe. Your mother, Alicent, was standing over Aemond, her face twisted in a mixture of shock, grief, and fury. She had seen the wound, seen the blood pouring from her son's ruined eye. Aemond sat there, the maesters fussing over him, trying to stop the bleeding, but he remained calm—too calm. His face was eerily blank, as though he had already accepted his fate. But you hadn’t. You were still shaking, the image of the dagger slicing through his eye burned into your mind. And yet, the horror of it all was drowned out by the fear rising inside you. You feared her. You feared Rhaenyra.

Alicent's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering, as she demanded justice. "An eye for an eye," she declared, her voice filled with a cold rage you hadn’t seen in her before. "They have maimed my son! They must pay for this!"

You tried to shrink back, standing near the edge of the room, trying to stay out of sight, but Aemond wouldn't let you, holding your hand more tightly and looking at you with his now only eye. You didn’t want to be part of this, but there was no escaping it. The words your mother had whispered so many times before now echoed in your head, louder than ever. 'Rhaenyra is dangerous.' 'Her sons are a threat to you and your siblings. They will stop at nothing.'

And as much as you didn’t want to believe it, after what had just happened, you felt that maybe your mother had been right all along. Rhaenyra stood across the room, tense and defensive, her eyes flashing with worry for Jace and Luke. Sometimes she tried to look into your eyes, but you always looked away.

You didn’t understand. She had always been so kind to you, and you had always liked her. You could even say that you wished she were your mother instead of Alicent. And Jace and Luke had always played with you, promising they would be kinder to your brother. But now, with Aemond’s blood staining the floor, you saw something different in her—a danger that you hadn’t seen before; their promises were all fake.

“I demand justice,” Alicent said again, stepping forward, her eyes locked on Rhaenyra. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched, unable to tear your eyes away.

King Viserys stood between them, his face pale with exhaustion and grief. He tried to calm the storm, but you could feel the fury radiating from your mother.

“I will have one of her sons’ eyes!” she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. She was wild with rage, desperate for justice. You had never seen her like this before, and it terrified you.

Viserys shouted for calm, trying to bring order to the chaos, but it was no use. Alicent was already reaching for the dagger at his side.

You gasped, your small hands covering your mouth as you watched in horror, taking your hand away from Aemond’s hand. Your mother, the woman who had always taught you to be measured and composed, was now lunging for Rhaenyra with a blade in hand. You wanted to scream, but the words caught in your throat. You were frozen in place, too scared to move. The clash was swift and brutal. Rhaenyra caught Alicent’s wrist before the blade could strike, and the two women stood there, locked in a furious struggle.

“You’ve gone too far, Alicent,” Rhaenyra hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

For the first time, you saw the true divide between them. And you realised, in that moment, that this wasn’t just a fight over Aemond’s eye. It was about power, about the throne, and in that moment, you didn't know that it was also about you.

“You see now, do you?” Alicent’s voice wavered, her eyes burning with a mix of heartbreak and rage as she looked at Rhaenyra. “Everyone can see now what you truly are.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stood there, too young to fully understand the depth of the betrayal, but old enough to know that nothing would ever be the same. You thought of all the times you had laughed with Jace and Luke, how you had always felt safe around Rhaenyra. But now, doubt gnawed at you. Maybe your mother was right; Rhaenyra was truly dangerous. You now saw that you were a threat to her throne, just as much as your brothers and sister were.

Aemond’s voice cut through the chaos, calm and cold, chilling the room. “It was a fair exchange,” he said, his one remaining eye burning with defiance. “I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Alicent froze, her dagger still clutched in her hand, as everyone turned to look at Aemond. His words were final, like the closing of a chapter.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that now everything had changed, that you no longer saw Rhaenyra as you once had. Now you despised her, despised Jacaerys, and despised Lucerys.

You didn’t trust them now.

Pt. 3>> (Coming Soon)

Author's Note: Hi everyone! I apologize for the delay in updates; as a full-time college student, I have a lot of assignments to juggle. I promise I’ll try to be quicker with my posts from now on. I’ve also added a poll to my profile where you can vote on whether (your name) will have a dragon, and if so, which one. If you don’t want to participate, that’s completely fine! Thank you for your understanding and for reading!

Tag list: @ursinaw @dakota-rain666 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @pookiedragonfire @jjggdfvvy @maryldrsstuff @1soultaken

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pucksandpower · 2 years ago

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Charles Leclerc x CEO!Reader - Social Media AU

Formula 1 News: Everything We Know About Arnault Racing So Far

The team is owned by LVMH, the world’s leading luxury goods company, and is named after the prominent Arnault family, which includes LVMH’s chief operating officer Y/N Arnault, wife of Charles Leclerc. Y/N is the youngest daughter of Bernard Arnault, the world’s richest man, and is said to be his favored successor.

They are expected to benefit from the extensive resources and expertise of LVMH which boasts a diverse portfolio of luxury brands such as Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, Moët & Chandon, TAG Heuer, and Tiffany & Co. These assets could potentially provide Arnault Racing with a competitive edge on and off the track in a sport heavily reliant on business dealings.

As with any new team, Arnault Racing will face numerous challenges including building a strong technical staff, securing talented drivers, and establishing partnerships with sponsors and suppliers. However, the backing of LVMH’s vast resources and the Arnault family’s commitment to success bode well for their prospects.

While no official announcement has been made regarding Charles Leclerc’s involvement with Arnault Racing, his familial connection to the team coupled with his recent decision to step away from Scuderia Ferrari has fueled rumors and heightened interest in whether he will be part of Arnault Racing’s driver lineup … (Read more)

Press Conference of Arnault Racing CEO, Y/N Arnault, and Team Principal, Sebastian Vettel

REPORT Arnault Racing snags Adrian Newey: CEO Y/N Arnault says “whatever arbitrary figure you have in your head, triple it and that’s how much we offered him” (Aug 2023)

NEWS Red Bull loses LVMH-owned sponsor TAG Heuer as entry of Arnault Racing brings new conflict of interest (Dec 2023)

UPDATE A weekend of team bonding on the beach after the car launch? Charles Leclerc and Mick Schumacher talk about flourishing environment at Arnault Racing (Feb 2024)

FEATURE What to expect from Arnault Racing — data from preseason testing explained (Feb 2024)

REPORT Podiums and points: a strong start to the season for newcomers Arnault Racing (Mar 2024)

FEATURE The Prince that was promised: Charles Leclerc triumphs in Monaco (May 2024)

UPDATE Who are the ‘losers’ and ‘winners’ halfway through the season? Arnault closes in on Red Bull as Ferrari falls behind (Jul 2024)

FEATURE What could have been — Arnault’s Charles Leclerc tops the podium in Monza as Tifosi look on (Sep 2024)

NEWS Red Bull’s reign continues as Arnault brings home historic P2 in both the Drivers’ and Contructors’ championship during debut season (Nov 2024)

REPORT Arnault promises more competitive 2025 season following already impressive first year on the grid (Jan 2025)

“We find ourselves at the edge of our seats here in Abu Dhabi. It all comes down to this final lap of the season and the battle for the World Championship has reached its peak! Charles Leclerc of Arnault and Max Verstappen of Red Bull are locked in a fierce duel for the ultimate prize.”

“This is the moment every racing fan has been waiting for. The atmosphere here is electric and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Leclerc and Verstappen have been pushing the absolute limits of their cars and their skills throughout this intense race.”

“They certainly have. Both drivers have showcased their exceptional talent and determination all season long. It’s a clash of titans, and now, as they approach the final corners, it’s do-or-die time.”

“Leclerc has been holding onto the lead for the majority of this race but Verstappen is focused in his pursuit. The Dutchman is determined to wrestle this championship away from Leclerc’s grasp.”

“The tension is palpable here as they enter the final sector. Leclerc seems to be holding his ground but Verstappen is right on his tail, looking for the slightest opportunity to strike!”

“This is nail-biting stuff. The championship hangs in the balance as they approach the final turn. Leclerc takes a defensive line but Verstappen moves to the inside. He’s desperately trying to overtake!”

“Verstappen is side-by-side with Leclerc! They’re wheel-to-wheel! What an incredible battle! They both accelerate out of the corner …”

“They’re neck and neck! It’s an all-out sprint to the checkered flag. Who will emerge victorious?”

“Leclerc finds another gear! He edges ahead of Verstappen!”

“It’s a photo finish! They cross the line. And ... it’s Charles Leclerc! Charles Leclerc has done it! Charles Leclerc is the World Champion!”

“What an incredible end to the season. Charles Leclerc and Arnault Racing have taken the championship title in a heart-stopping finale!”

“This is the stuff of legends. Leclerc has proven himself a champion through and through today. The emotion in the Arnault Racing garage is indescribable!”

“What an amazing moment for Leclerc and his team. This race will be remembered for years to come. Congratulations to Charles Leclerc! Congratulations to Arnault Racing!”

y/narnault

Liked by charles_leclerc, arnaultracing, and 938,572 others

y/narnault ✨ Abu Dhabi, 2017 ✨

A chance encounter in the paddock with a hotshot young driver sent us both sprawling to the ground and ignited a spark that changed our lives forever. Our love story began in Yas Marina as Charles celebrated the end of the season after winning the F2 championship. Little did we know that this would be the start of a remarkable journey, both on and off the track

Fast forward to ...

✨ Abu Dhabi, 2025 ✨

As the CEO of Arnault Racing, it fills my heart with immense pride to witness our immensely talented driver win a much deserved World Drivers' Championship. As the wife of Charles Leclerc, it makes me even prouder to see the most amazing person I know finally be granted the fruit of his labors. There has been no sweeter feeling than chasing our dreams hand-in-hand

Eight years later, in Yas Marina once again, our journey came full circle. Our love, like a well-oiled machine, has only grown stronger with each challenge we faced. Working together as a team, we transformed dreams into reality and surpassed every limit. The joy of victory, the adrenaline of the race — it all pales in comparison to the love and support we share

To our extraordinary team at Arnault Racing, thank you for your relentless commitment and tireless efforts. Each one of you has played a vital role in making history this season and we truly could not have done it without you

Charles, my champion, you continue to inspire me every day with your talent, dedication, and resilient spirit. The road here has not always been easy but I am thankful for every obstacle we faced because they made us grow as people and as partners in both love and racing. We have weathered the storms and celebrated the triumphs. The countless hours of hard work, sacrifice, and pouring over data for so long that we forgot the cookies burning in the oven brought us to this extraordinary moment of victory. But beyond the increasingly crowded trophy cases and roaring crowds, it is our love that always shines the brightest. No matter where we may have placed in the standings, I was always content in knowing that we are P1 on the podium of life — and now we stand on top of both together

This chapter is just beginning. There are still many races left to win, many trophies left to raise, and many championships left to clinch

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charles_leclerc From the moment we met, you have seen me not just as a driver or public figure but as a person with hopes, dreams, and flaws. You have been there for me through the setbacks and the victories and your faith in me never has wavered. Your belief in me pushed me to be the best version of myself and I will spend the rest of our lives eternally grateful for being sent such an angel. Our victories are not only measured by the number of trophies or the applause of the crowds but in the quiet moments we get to bask in the life we built together. Our love has always been the beacon that guides me, even in the darkest of times. It is the constant reminder that no matter where we stand in the standings, we have each other to lean on. I have no doubt that it is because of you that I stand here today. You are my pillar of strength, my constant motivation, and my rock. Without your love and support, none of this would have been possible. Thank you, mon amour, for believing in me, for supporting me, and for always standing by my side. It is fate that brought us together and destiny that irreversibly wove our hearts into one

f1wagupdates you two are singlehandedly keeping my belief in true love alive

formulanone how are they still in the honeymoon phase after eight years together and i can’t even get a text back?

arnaultracing there are power couples and then there is THE power couple 🤩

GQ France: An Interview with 2025 Formula 1 World Champion Charles Leclerc

charles_leclerc and y/narnault

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charles_leclerc Baby Leclerc will make their F1 debut in August 🍼

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pierregasly hmmm i wonder what happened a little over nine months before the due date?

mickschumacher no wonder we couldn’t find them during the championship party 😳

arnaultracing a championship baby for our champions 🏆

lovelyleclerc oh to be reincarnated as their baby

leclercbabe it’s really getting gifted godly genes, money, and talent 😭

princecharles is it bad that i’m jealous of a baby that hasn’t even been born yet?

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infiniteglitterfall · 5 months ago

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Uggghhh, what is UP with Canada?!

In Vancouver, the Schara Tzedeck synagogue's windows were smashed on April 19th.

In Toronto on April 19, five windows at the Kehillat Shaarei Torah synagogue were smashed with a hammer.

In Toronto on April 26, someone set a sign on fire at Beth Tikvah Synagogue....

....And again on April 28.

In Toronto in May, Jewish community members started escorting a kid to school because he was being bullied by peers who told him, "We're going to do to you what Hamas did to Israel," pushed him, kicked him, threw stones at him, and told him, "we need to kill you." This had been going on for six months. (His family had gone to both the school and police repeatedly at this point and it had only escalated; the kids throwing stones at him on the way to school was new.)

In Toronto on May 17th, Kehillat Shaarei Torah's windows were smashed again.

On May 25th before dawn, two people shot at Bais Chaya Muska, a Jewish girls' school in Toronto.

On May 29th, in the middle of the night, someone shot at the Belz Yeshiva Ketana school in Montreal.

In Vancouver on May 30, someone poured fuel on the doors of the Schara Tzedeck synagogue, then firebombed them.

In an article on June 7, Rabbi Lisa Grushcow of Emanu-El-Beth Sholom synagogue in Montreal said people have yelled “Hitler was right!” and “Jew!” at her congregants as they arrive for Shabbat services and that Jewish kids are being bullied in local schools.

On June 1 in Toronto, a man smashed the window of the Anshei Minsk synagogue with a rock.

On June 3 in Kitchener, someone smashed the front door of Beth Jacob synagogue.

On June 19th in Montreal, three small bullet-like holes were somehow made in the windows of Falafel Yoni. (I don't know, all the articles go out of their way to say they don't know WHAT made the holes.) Falafel Yoni is owned by a Jewish man who was born in Israel, and has appeared on boycott lists despite the owner never having said anything political about Israel.

On the same day, down the street from Falafel Yoni, someone smashed the windows of a nearby gym whose co-owner is Jewish and had also been born in Israel.

On June 30 in Toronto, someone threw stones at the Pride of Israel synagogue, then at Kehillat Shaarei Torah, smashing windows (again) in the latter.

On the weekend of July 27th, a father and son in Toronto were arrested for planning a terrorist attack and murder on behalf of ISIL, which is wild.

On July 29th, someone torched a bus belonging to the Bobov Hassidic school in Toronto.

And smashed the windows of a DIFFERENT Jewish school in Toronto, Leo Baeck Jewish Day School, and set it on fire.

On July 31 in Toronto, guess which synagogue had three signs set on fire? That's right: Kehillat Shaarei Torah.

Plus one sign set afire at Toronto's Temple Sinai Congregation the same night, presumably by the same arsonist, who might even have been the stone-hurler of June 30.

There are probably ones I missed. Just putting this list together took like three hours, though. I kept having to go, "Wait, surely that can't be the same synagogue AGAIN" and "they only mention the closest major intersection, which one was this?!" and "that can't be a different one, how many windows did they smash??" and go look for more sources. Plus a couple of articles were giving conflicting dates for one of the incidents.

And nobody ever gives actual dates, they just say shit like, "Blah blah blah was reported Monday...." so I have to look at the article date and then look at a damn calendar.

I went back as far as April because everything I found was referring to earlier incidents. Back to April. February and March were relatively quiet, at least in the news. Although interestingly, February is when the most hate crimes in Toronto had been reported, at least as of ... oh, I see.

As of March.

On the bright side, I did discover that Kehillat Shaarei Torah consistently has great jokes on its sign.

#antisemitism #judenhass is such a good word #jew hatred is what it means #reblog to fight antisemitism #jumblr #jewblr #wall of words #gun violence tw

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coddda · 6 months ago

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Light's relationship with his father is such a heartbreaking multi-faceted tragedy to me I hate it so so so much.

Soichiro loves his son so much, and while he's certainly not a perfect father I know that he cares deeply about Light. He wants to prove Light's innocence so badly but he can't let go of the underlying doubt that he might really be Kira and it gnaws at him. He does not know that from the very beginning he was being used by Light, whether it was to obtain information about the investigation, or to get to L, or to strengthen the foundations of his own lie that he wasn't Kira, this entire time he was simply another resource. He'll hang onto this doubt for years, even after L is dead, even if he doesn't express it in the latter half of the series, until he himself is on his deathbed, with what he believes to be undeniable proof that Light isn't Kira. (It's a lie, of course.) He dies happy, but it's on the foundations of blissful ignorance. His own son brought him here, brought him to the point where he had to sacrifice half of his own remaining life span, to his own death march, and was still trying to use him even now to kill someone else, but he doesn't know that. Soichiro said that what was evil was the power to kill others, and that whoever used it was cursed. Light was that cursed man, of course, and he tried to bring that curse onto Soichiro too by making him kill in his last moments. Soichiro was happy regardless, because he didn't know. He'll never know. (In the manga/anime at least. More on that later).

Light loves his father but it's not enough to turn him away from the terrible decisions he's made, if anything it only fuels them. His idea of "justice" is a twisted model of what he parroted from Soichiro, and he uses his father as another pawn (and a powerful one at that) in his plans. If he can prove that Kira is justice then perhaps his father will no longer call Kira, and therefore Light, evil, so he just needs to ensure that Kira becomes justice, right? It's Light's own actions that land his own father in the hospital for a stress-induced heart attack and yet he says only a few minutes later that he's the happiest he's ever been in his entire life. Even after Soichiro denounces Kira by calling him evil, even after he calls the Death Note's power evil, even after he unknowingly tells Light that he is cursed. When Soichiro dies Light is too deep in his own plans to actually properly process the fact that his own father is dying past what it means for his goals, but at the same time he still cares enough that after the fact he'll genuinely cry, only to brush it all away later. (Personally, I don't have a single doubt in my mind that Light's crying in that scene was genuine and I Will die on this hill). Soichiro had unknowingly denounced Light one last time just before his death, openly relieved that he "wasn't Kira after all", which also reveals that he has had doubts about Light this entire time, even after L died. By the time he's caught at the Yellow Box Warehouse Light will have denounced his father too, seeing him as someone who was made to be a fool, someone who was naive, even, too earnest for his own good. He won't realize that part of this description of his father might have applied to Light himself, back when this all started. Light takes after his father so much in so many ways already, so why not in this way too?

Ough. And honestly the other adaptations never miss out on this tragedy either, and I love them for that. (spoilers for the musical and 2006 live action movies I guess?)

In the musical we see Soichiro express his doubts and conflicts about who to believe, Light or L, if the son he raised really is a murderer, if everything he knows about him is just a lie. Like, there's an entire song about this, and you can tell how torn he is about it all, how badly he wants Light to be innocent but about how he also needs to face the truth no matter what it is, but at the end of it all he doesn't even get the answers he wants. At the end of the musical the only thing he finds is two corpses, Light's and L's, with no answers. No last words, no closure, only dead ends and a dead son and a grieving daughter. It's so awful I hate it here.

And the live action movie is fucking Insane. Like, wow. Okay. (Spoiler for the ending of Death Note The Last Name I guess) In the 2006 movies/novels Light writes Soichiro's name in the Death Note himself, and it's such an inconcievable move that it leaves even Misa shocked; Light tries to make Soichiro give him the Death Note for the last part of his plans, seeing his death as a "necessary sacrifice" (insert tangent essay about why I think 2006 live action movie Light is actually the most "coldhearted" Light Yagami, despite how infamous anime Light is). It doesn't work, and Soichiro does end up finding out that Light is Kira this time, and they have a confrontation, but he doesn't even sound truly hateful towards Light for it. He Never seems to outright hate Light for it, even after Light calls the whole confrontation a waste of time and instead tries to continue killing with the piece of the notebook in his watch, even after he tries to get Ryuk to kill everyone. When Ryuk inevitably writes Light's name and he collapses, Soichiro still reaches out for him and holds onto him as he's dying. Light literally dies in Soichiro's arms, still looking for the validation that he was right, that this wasn't all for nothing, that he was doing the good thing, trying to make Soichiro understand that he was trying to enact justice based on what he learned from him in the first place. Soichiro not only learns but sees for himself what his son has become, and Light dies in his arms leaving no closure for either of them. Soichiro will announce Light's death in L Change the WorLd on the news without saying his name, saying instead that it is only Kira who is dead, even though he and Light are one in the same. Sachiko and Sayu will never get to know the full truth about what happened to Light, instead Soichiro will lie and instead tell them: "Light was killed by Kira."

And then holy Shit the jdrama. If I write about it here this post is gonna literally double in length and also I don't really wanna spoil it but. Man. Man. If you watched it you know. Holy Shit dude I Cried.

It's the fact that, canonically, Soichiro will die oblivious to what Light has done, but even in the instances where he does find out, it doesn't make it any better, and it doesn't make him love Light any less, it just gives him more to grieve.

It's the fact that there isn't a single universe where Light doesn't use his father for his own gain, whether to gain information, or to try and control him with the Death Note, or make him write in the Death Note himself, and not a single time will he realize just how far he's strayed from Soichiro's ideals, and not a single time will he not forsake him for it by the end of the story.

It's the fact that, despite everything, Light will always refers to Soichiro as "dad/my dad" (informal) rather than "father/my father", even after he has been "denounced" (and this is true in every language that Death Note has been translated in, as far as I could find. Man, isn't that so cool! :) <- Through tears).

Anyways that's what I've been thinking of how's your guys' days going

#death note #dn #death note jdrama #death note live action #death note musical #i guess i can tag those #light yagami #soichiro yagami #coda analyzes stuff #i wrote like 90% of this at like 5 am because i was trying to sleep but then a Light Yagami Thought occured #i can't stop i can't stop the stupid analyses #my drafts are slowly piling with them make it stop helpppp #i hate this fucking series !! augh #ohhh shit this post is like 1.4K words long i am actually like so sorry if you read this whole thing through damn #i don't know if this is coherent i had to proofread this over several times but i still don't know if it makes any sense #and i don't feel like proofreading it another time. welp. hits post

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ginxyy · 2 months ago

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The Secret

Keeping a secret is Hard even more so when Mingyu won’t stop marking what is his.

(Sorry for the late post guys had a long day.. look at this man though. So boyfriend material i am going CRAZY!!)

The soft glow of the studio lights felt almost ethereal as I leaned against the wall, the hum of music lingering in the air, a lingering echo of the creativity that thrived within these walls. I was used to this atmosphere, the rhythmic clatter of instruments and the gentle chatter of the members of Seventeen, but on this particular day, there was a thicker tension that enveloped the room - a tension that had little to do with music.

As Woozi left to grab some food, I could feel the anticipation rising within me like bubbles in a freshly opened bottle of champagne. We weren’t a couple in the conventional sense; rather, Mingyu and I had embarked on a secret that was undeniably intoxicating.

It was thrilling and terrifying, a mix of vulnerability and excitement that made my heart race. I was his secret, something he would whisper in the fading light of the studio, a place where our worlds collided, unencumbered by the expectations that surrounded both him and the band.

Mingyu entered the room, his tall, broad frame casting a long shadow across the floor. He was the epitome of casual elegance, his dark hair tousled in that effortlessly handsome way that sent butterflies dancing through my stomach. He approached me with a glint in his eyes, one that promised mischief and warmth. “Waiting for me?” he asked, his voice low, sending a ripple of electricity through my body.

“Always,” I replied, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips. I momentarily glanced toward the door, knowing we had only a short window of time before Woozi returned. But in this sacred space, with the world outside on pause, it was just us and the intoxicating possibilities that loomed in the air.

He stepped closer, his presence enveloping me. “What do you want me to do while we wait?” he asked, his tone teasing, yet laden with a deeper meaning. I could feel my breath hitch slightly, the playful banter turning heated as his eyes locked onto mine, sparks flying between us.

I hesitated for a heartbeat, temptation wrapping around me like a warm blanket. I stepped closer and murmured, “Show me.” Instinctively, I knew that stepping into this territory meant surrendering to the moment, allowing desire to take control. His gaze darkened with intent, and that innocent query morphed into something electrifying.

Without a word, Mingyu reached for me, his fingertips brushing against my skin, igniting each nerve ending with fire. The world outside evaporated in an instant as I leaned into him, our lips meeting softly at first, then with increasing urgency. As his hands buried themselves in my hair, my back pressed against the wall, and everything around us faded into a blur of sound and color.

With each kiss, the rhythm of our hearts became one. His lips traveled down my neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. I could feel the soft brush of his breath against my collarbone as he whispered my name, an incantation that only intensified the heat that simmered between us. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and for a moment, I forgot everything but him.

Then came the biting, a playful twist that anchored me to reality, reminding me of the precarious line we walked. He nibbled gently at my skin, yet the passion fueled his ferocity. Each bite ignited fire beneath my skin, marking me as his secret, his treasure. Still, the inner conflict wrestled within me - I was Woozi's assistant, and the last thing I needed was for the members of Seventeen to notice anything out of the ordinary. My skin bore witness to his fervor, the marks blooming like roses as he claimed me.

“Mingyu,” I gasped, trying to rein in the pleasure that was clouding my judgment, knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to hide the evidence of our passionate encounter. “We can’t… I can’t go out like this.” A mix of vulnerability and desire danced in my voice, giving him pause.

He met my gaze, the playful spark in his eyes replaced with a deeper understanding. “It’ll just be a moment,” he said softly, his breath fanning across my skin, making my heart trail behind every word. I wanted to protest, to remind him of who we were to each other - but the weight of passion pulled me under again.

Just one more moment, I thought, letting the warmth of his body surround me as I lost myself in him once more. But our stolen minutes slipped through our fingers like grains of sand. Before long, I felt the telltale rumble of footsteps approaching the door, and Mingyu pulled back, an impish smirk on his face that paired with guilt in my chest.

“Hide the evidence,” he murmured, a playful edge to his voice, and I rushed to straighten myself, pulling my collar up, hoping it concealed the signs of our encounter.

The sound of the door unlocking sent a wave of panic spiraling through me. I took a step back, knowing that once Woozi returned, things wouldn’t be so easy. I was acutely aware of the flush that lingered in my cheeks and the sheen of desire still evident in my eyes.

“Hey, did I miss anything?” Woozi’s voice cut through the tension, his casual tone masking any suspicion that might have hung in the air.

Mingyu’s grin only widened, an angelic facade that did little to mask the fever beneath the surface. “Just waiting for food,” he replied smoothly, his eyes flicking to mine, a knowing spark hidden just beneath. The mask was on, the game continued, but I could see the remnants of passion still dancing in its depths.

With each passing day, the line between our secret relationship and the reality of our lives grew thinner, each moment of stolen intimacy a reminder of the thrill we walked around with. The odds were stacked against us, but the taste of his kisses and the warmth of his embrace anchored me to hope.

I was caught between the excitement of first love and the reality of the world outside a world that would never understand the chaos to which my heart had succumbed. And as I resumed my duties with the band, I knew one thing for certain: once you’ve tasted that sort of passion, there’s no turning back.

A few days had passed since that intense moment with Mingyu, but the memory of his touch lingered, a constant reminder of the secret we shared. Every time we were in the same room, I could feel his eyes on me, sending shivers down my spine. We had been careful at least, I thought we had been. But secrets, especially those charged with the kind of tension we had, had a way of unraveling.

It started with Seungkwan.

I had just walked into the studio, juggling a coffee tray and a stack of papers for Woozi. My neck tingled, as if the ghost of Mingyu’s lips were still brushing against it. I had tried to cover the marks he’d left behind, but no amount of makeup could fully hide them. As I placed Woozi’s coffee down, I felt Seungkwan’s eyes on me, scrutinizing.

“Wait a minute…” Seungkwan said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, his usually playful tone replaced with something much more serious. He walked over to me, eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head, examining my neck. “What is that?”

“What’s what?” I asked innocently, though my heart rate spiked. I instinctively raised my hand to brush at my collar, but it was too late. Seungkwan leaned in closer, squinting at the faint marks that Mingyu had left.

“Oh. My. God.” His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “Is that a hickey?”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but before I could even formulate an excuse, Seungkwan’s expression changed from suspicion to full-on disbelief. He staggered back, clutching his chest like he had just uncovered some earth-shattering revelation. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?!” His voice was so loud that the other members in the room, Joshua and Jeonghan, snapped their heads around, suddenly very interested.

“No, no, it’s not…” I began, trying desperately to steer the conversation away from this dangerous territory.

But Seungkwan was on a roll, his detective mode fully engaged. “Don’t lie to me! That’s a hickey. I know what a hickey looks like, and that is 100% a hickey. Who is it? Who’s the lucky guy?” He was practically bouncing on his heels, eyes sparkling with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.

Joshua sauntered over, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Oooh, a mystery! I love mysteries,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Spill. We won’t judge.”

I could feel the room closing in around me. My mind raced, trying to come up with a plausible story that wouldn’t involve Mingyu. But before I could say anything, Mingyu himself walked into the studio, looking entirely too casual, as if he hadn’t been the one responsible for all of this chaos.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his deep voice sending a wave of heat through me. He strolled over with that effortlessly confident air, hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Oh, just your average interrogation session,” Jeonghan said, waving a hand. “Apparently, someone has a secret lover,” he added, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked between me and Seungkwan.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, but his smirk deepened as his gaze slid toward me. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice dripping with faux innocence. He leaned against the doorframe, the perfect picture of calm, though I could see the glint of amusement in his eyes. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

I shot him a glare, knowing full well that he was enjoying every second of this. “There is no lucky guy,” I said, trying to sound firm, but my voice wavered slightly.

Seungkwan, of course, wasn’t convinced. He pointed dramatically at my neck. “The evidence says otherwise!”

Mingyu’s grin widened, but he stayed quiet, clearly savoring the moment as I floundered under the scrutiny of the members. He was playing the part of the innocent bystander perfectly, but I could feel his gaze burning into me, teasing, daring me to slip.

Before I could deflect, Hoshi burst into the room, all energy and chaos. “What’s happening? Why’s everyone gathered? Is this a party? Should I bring snacks?”

“Hoshi!” Seungkwan exclaimed, grabbing him by the shoulders. “There’s a scandal afoot. Someone in this room has a secret boyfriend, and they won’t tell us who it is.”

“Wait, what?” Hoshi’s eyes went wide, his mind spinning as he tried to catch up with the conversation. “Who? Who is it? Do we know him?”

At this point, I could feel the walls closing in. The entire band would know soon if I didn’t do something fast. But before I could think of an escape, Mingyu finally chimed in, pushing off the doorframe and strolling over, exuding nothing but confidence.

He draped an arm casually over my shoulders, his thumb brushing lightly against the spot where his lips had marked me just days ago. “Come on, guys,” he said, his tone light, almost teasing. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this. I’m sure it’s just makeup or something, right?” He gave me a quick, sly wink, so subtle that only I could catch it.

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes, not buying it for a second. “No way. That’s not makeup. I know a hickey when I see one. You’re hiding something.” His gaze flickered between Mingyu and me, suspicion rising.

Mingyu, never one to back down from a challenge, leaned in a little closer to me, his arm still draped around my shoulders. “Or maybe you’re just imagining things, Seungkwan,” he said smoothly, the cocky edge to his voice unmistakable.

The room fell into a momentary silence as everyone seemed to consider this. But Seungkwan, determined to solve the mystery, crossed his arms and said, “Fine, don’t tell us now. But I’ll find out. Mark my words.”

As the tension finally began to dissipate, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Mingyu. His eyes met mine, full of that playful mischief that made my heart race. We had managed to dodge the bullet this time, but I knew that the secret wouldn’t stay hidden forever. The members were too curious, and Mingyu was enjoying this game far too much for it to stay under wraps for long.

But for now, we were safe. He gave me one last smirk before stepping back, his voice light as he said, “Now, about that food…” and just like that, the conversation shifted back to normal. But the thrill of our secret affair hung in the air, electric and undeniable.

As I resumed my duties, I couldn’t help but think about what Seungkwan had said. The secret was becoming harder to keep, but the thrill of it the excitement, the tension it was intoxicating. And as I caught Mingyu’s eye from across the room, I knew that no matter what happened next, there was no turning back.

The tension between Mingyu and me continued to build over the next few days. Every glance, every touch that lingered a moment too long, felt charged with electricity. We both knew the game couldn’t go on like this forever someone was bound to put two and two together. But the thrill of sneaking around, of keeping our secret just beneath the surface, was too exhilarating to give up.

Seungkwan, however, had turned into a full-fledged detective. I couldn’t walk into the studio without feeling his eyes on me, watching for any sign, any slip-up that might give him the clues he needed. He had even roped in Dino, who, while not the most subtle, was eager to help.

“You’ve been acting weird lately,” Dino said one afternoon, his brows furrowed as I handed him a folder of schedules for their upcoming practices. “Like… secretive. Who are you hiding from?” His voice was light, teasing, but I could sense his genuine curiosity.

I forced a laugh, shaking my head as I busied myself with papers, trying to avoid their relentless questioning. “I’m not hiding anything, Dino. You’re all imagining things.”

But they weren’t about to let it go that easily.

By the time I arrived the next morning, it seemed like half the band was in on the conspiracy. The teasing was relentless.

“You’re glowing,” Jeonghan remarked with a grin, as I set down my bag. “You know what they say about people who are in love, right? They start glowing.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Seungkwan was already on the attack. “Exactly! Who is it? You can’t hide forever!”

Joshua leaned back in his chair, smirking. “We should place bets. I’m guessing it’s someone outside the industry. Maybe a manager from another agency?”

“Nah,” Seungkwan shot back. “It’s gotta be someone closer. Someone we know.”

Their guesses continued, ranging from random stylists to far-fetched ideas about choreographers or vocal trainers, and I tried my best to act normal, but my nerves were starting to get the best of me. All the while, Mingyu sat at the other end of the room, casually scrolling through his phone, pretending not to care, but I could see the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Then it happened.

I was standing near the door, sorting through some files, when Mingyu decided to make his move. His sly, infuriatingly cocky move.

“You missed a spot,” he said softly as he walked past me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against my neck as if fixing my collar, but the contact was far too intimate, far too deliberate.

I froze. My heart jumped into my throat as I realized that, for the briefest moment, the rest of the room had seen it. The subtle touch, the too-familiar gesture. It wasn’t the kind of touch you’d give to a casual acquaintance.

Seungkwan’s eyes widened. He looked like he’d just solved the biggest mystery of his life. “Wait… wait, wait, wait did you see that?!” His voice was almost a shout, and every head in the room turned toward me and Mingyu.

“What?” Mingyu said, completely unfazed, his voice smooth and nonchalant. “I was just helping her with her collar.”

But the damage was done.

“You two…” Seungkwan’s voice trailed off, his eyes darting between us. His brain was clearly processing everything at lightning speed. “It’s you. You two! Oh my god, it’s Mingyu!”

Jeonghan nearly choked on his water. “No way. Are you serious?”

Joshua’s eyebrows shot up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, well… I didn’t see that one coming.”

The room erupted into chaos. Dino was staring at me, mouth agape, while Vernon started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. Hoshi, ever the dramatic one, collapsed onto the couch in mock shock, covering his face with his hands. “My poor, innocent eyes! Betrayed!”

Meanwhile, Mingyu just leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the whirlwind of accusations and shocked exclamations swirling around us. In fact, he looked like he was enjoying it relishing in the fact that our secret was out, but it had been on his terms.

I, on the other hand, was mortified. “It’s not it’s not what you think!” I stammered, but I knew it was useless.

“Oh, it is exactly what we think,” Seungkwan said, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “You two have been sneaking around! How long has this been going on?”

I glanced at Mingyu, desperately hoping for some backup, but all he gave me was that signature smirk, the one that made my heart flutter and my nerves unravel all at once.

“You could have just told us, you know,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head but clearly amused. “We’re not that scary.”

“I… I didn’t know how,” I admitted, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “It’s complicated. And I didn’t want it to affect the group.”

“It won’t,” Joshua said reassuringly. “We’re all adults here. Well, most of us.” He gave a pointed look at Dino, who pouted in response.

Mingyu finally spoke up, his tone casual but with a hint of something more serious. “We didn’t mean to keep it a secret forever. But, you know, timing and all that.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Mingyu’s innocent act. “Sure. I’m guessing you two were having too much fun sneaking around to care about the timing.”

At that, Mingyu laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile a little despite the chaos. He wasn’t wrong. There was something undeniably thrilling about our secret, the stolen moments, the whispered conversations when no one else was looking.

“So,” Hoshi said, leaning forward with a grin, “since it’s all out in the open now, when’s the wedding?”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Hoshi, please.”

“Yeah, Hoshi, slow down,” Mingyu said, his voice teasing but his gaze soft as he looked at me. “One step at a time.”

As the teasing continued, the shock and chaos slowly turned into laughter, and before long, the members were back to their usual antics, though with the occasional jab at Mingyu and me. It wasn’t the reaction I had been dreading; in fact, it was almost a relief to have the secret out, to not have to pretend anymore.

And as I stood there, watching Mingyu banter with the others, I realized that maybe this wasn’t as complicated as I had made it out to be. Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

The secret was out, but the excitement, the connection we shared that wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, it felt stronger now, more real. And as Mingyu caught my eye from across the room, his smile warm and teasing, I knew that whatever came next, we’d face it together.

The sun was setting, casting a soft, golden light through the blinds of my living room. Mingyu had come over after practice, and what started as an innocent evening of takeout and a movie had quickly turned into something much more heated.

I wasn’t sure when the moment shifted. Maybe it was the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered or the way his hands found mine, gently at first, then with growing urgency. Whatever it was, the air between us became thick with anticipation.

Mingyu was all over me, his hands tracing the curve of my waist as he pulled me closer, his lips trailing down my neck, leaving a searing path in their wake. Every touch, every kiss sent jolts of electricity through me, setting my skin on fire.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against my neck, his voice husky, breath warm against my skin.

I didn’t respond with words couldn’t, really because his lips were back on mine, and the intensity of the moment consumed everything else. He moved with a mix of tenderness and passion, like he couldn’t get enough but wanted to savor every second. I could feel the heat between us growing, a whirlwind of desire that had been building for so long finally spilling over.

Somewhere between the living room and my bedroom, Mingyu’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands rougher, leaving little doubt that he was marking me as his. Every bite, every nibble on my neck was deliberate, as if he was claiming me all over again. I gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin beneath my ear, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips when he saw the effect it had on me.

“You’re going to have to explain this tomorrow,” he teased, his voice low and filled with mischief as he pressed a final, lingering kiss to the base of my throat.

“Not my fault,” I shot back breathlessly, tugging him down for another kiss. “You started it.”

The night blurred into a haze of warmth, tangled sheets, and whispered promises. By the time the morning sun filtered through the curtains, I was sprawled across the bed, my body deliciously sore, and Mingyu was beside me, his arm draped lazily over my waist, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“I’ve got to go,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “But I’ll see you at the studio later?”

“Yeah,” I sighed contentedly, still basking in the afterglow. “I’ll bring the coffee.”

The next morning, I walked into the studio with a tray full of coffee cups, my body still buzzing from last night. I was glowing, and not just in the metaphorical sense. I could feel it the way my skin tingled, the way my heart raced just thinking about Mingyu.

But the marks on my neck? Yeah, those weren’t so easy to hide.

The moment I stepped into the studio, the teasing began. It was like they’d all been waiting for me to show up, and judging by the smirks on their faces, they knew exactly what had gone down the night before.

Seungkwan was the first to speak, his voice loud and filled with exaggerated disbelief. “Oh my god! Look at you!” He dramatically pointed to my neck, where no amount of makeup had been able to cover the evidence of Mingyu’s handiwork. “You look like you’ve been attacked by a pack of vampires!”

The room erupted into laughter as I tried to balance the coffee tray with one hand and pull up my collar with the other, failing miserably to hide the marks.

��Did Mingyu do that?” Dino asked innocently, though the wide grin on his face told me he knew the answer.

Joshua leaned back in his chair, grinning from ear to ear. “I’d say those are definitely his handiwork.”

I could feel my face turning red as I placed the coffee on the table, trying to avoid their gazes, but Jeonghan wasn’t about to let me off the hook. “Wow, you didn’t even bother to hide them this time. I respect that.”

“I didn’t have time!” I protested, but my words were met with a chorus of knowing chuckles.

Just then, Mingyu walked in, looking far too casual for someone who had left his mark all over me. He scanned the room, his gaze landing on me, and that same infuriatingly smug smirk appeared on his lips. “What did I miss?” he asked innocently, though the gleam in his eyes told me he was fully aware of what was going on.

“You missed your girlfriend walking in here covered in your love bites,” Seungkwan said, not missing a beat.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow, crossing the room in just a few easy strides. He came up beside me, his arm looping around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. “What can I say?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “I get carried away sometimes.”

I elbowed him in the ribs, but I couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at my lips. It was hard to be embarrassed when Mingyu was so completely unbothered, standing there in front of everyone with that cocky grin on his face.

“Honestly,” Hoshi chimed in, dramatically shielding his eyes, “you two need to stop. My poor, innocent heart can’t handle all this PDA.”

“You’re just jealous,” Mingyu shot back, chuckling as Hoshi pouted in response.

Jeonghan sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re all witnessing this. First, the secret dating, and now this. How long before you two start making out in the practice room?”

Before I could respond, Seungkwan clapped his hands together. “I’m starting a betting pool. Place your bets on when these two are going to get caught by the manager.”

“Seungkwan, stop!” I said, though I was laughing now, unable to stay mad at the ridiculousness of it all.

But Mingyu just pulled me closer, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “They can say whatever they want,” he whispered, his voice so low only I could hear, “but I’m not stopping.”

I looked up at him, my heart skipping a beat. There was something so easy, so right about this about us. The teasing, the jokes, the shared laughter it all felt like part of a new normal, a normal I didn’t mind one bit.

And as the morning went on, with the members throwing playful jabs and Mingyu sending me sly smiles from across the room, I realized something: no matter how much they teased us, no matter how much they joked about our relationship, there was a sense of acceptance, of warmth, that made it all worth it.

Because at the end of the day, this Mingyu, the band, the laughter, the teasing was home. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As the practice started and the room filled with music, I caught Mingyu’s eye from across the studio. He winked, and I couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what, we had each other.

And that was all that mattered.

264 notes · View notes

marvyu · 5 months ago

Text

HE AIN'T HITTING IT LIKE HE SUPPOSED TO HIT IT

pairings. xu minghao x female reader genre(s). smut

summary. at a party you find unexpected intimacy with minghao making you question your current relationship and discover what you truly need.

warnings. explicit language, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, intoxication, kissing, fingering, oral sex, protected penetrative sex, breakup, cheating?, emotional conflict -- if i missed anything lmk!

the hum of the party surrounds you as you step through the doorway, the bass from the speakers pulsing in time with your heartbeat. colorful lights dance across the crowded living room, where bodies move in sync with the music, laughter, and conversation blending into a cacophony of sound. you scan the room, spotting your boyfriend in the far corner, engaged in a heated debate with his friends. you sigh, the tension between you two hanging heavy over your head.

you refuse to have sex with him, a boundary he hasn’t been too understanding about. he thinks you’re not comfortable yet, which is partly true, but there’s more to it that you can’t quite put into words. it’s not just about being uncomfortable; there’s a fear that grips you every time you think about taking that step with him.

in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a drink in hand, you spot minghao. his aloof demeanor and intense gaze make him stand out even in the dim lighting. he’s always been a bit of an enigma, quiet and reserved, which only fuels your irritation towards him. tonight, you decide to approach him, a mix of curiosity and annoyance driving your steps.

you weave through the crowd, the heat from the bodies around you making the room feel warmer than it is. as you approach the kitchen, the chatter and laughter seem to fade into the background, leaving just the steady thrum of the music and your own heartbeat in your ears.

minghao stands there, seemingly lost in thought as he sips his drink. he doesn't notice you at first, and for a moment, you observe him. his expression is neutral, his eyes scanning the room with a certain detachment. he's always been like this, you think. aloof, almost distant. it irks you, this air of mystery he carries.

“hey, loner,” you tease, leaning against the counter beside him. the corners of your mouth twitch into a smirk as you try to catch his attention. “why so serious?”

minghao finally looks at you, his gaze cool and detached. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence between you stretching out. he takes another sip of his drink before responding. “just enjoying my drink,” he replies, his tone as blunt as ever.

you roll your eyes, taking a moment to study him. he’s dressed simply, yet there’s something about the way he carries himself that commands attention. you’ve never understood why he intrigues you so much, especially given how different he is from your usual type.

“always so mysterious,” you comment, your voice light, though there’s an underlying edge to your words. “what’s it like being the brooding artist of the group?”

he raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “what’s it like always needing to be the center of attention?”

you can’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprises even you. “touché,” you say, raising your own drink in a mock toast. “i guess we both have our roles to play.”

the banter feels comfortable, almost familiar. it’s strange, given how little you actually interact with minghao. your interactions are usually brief, marked by sarcastic remarks and quick retorts. tonight, though, there’s something different in the air.

“so,” you say, leaning in slightly, “why are you really here all alone? don’t tell me you’re avoiding everyone.”

he shrugs, his gaze drifting over the crowd. “sometimes it’s better to watch than to participate. you see more that way.”

you follow his gaze, the throng of partygoers a blur of movement and color. “and what do you see?”

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something—interest, perhaps?—before his expression smooths over again. “people pretending to be something they’re not. it’s entertaining.”

you scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “and you’re above all that?”

“i didn’t say that,” he replies, his tone neutral. “just that it’s easier to see when you’re not in the middle of it.”

there’s a brief silence as you process his words. you’ve always thought of minghao as...detached, maybe even a bit pretentious, but tonight he seems more… grounded. it’s disarming, and you find yourself wanting to know more.

“you know,” you say, your voice softer now, “i always thought you were kind of a jerk. but maybe i was wrong.”

he chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine. “maybe you were. or maybe i am, and you’re just starting to see it.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “well, if you are, you hide it well.”

there’s another pause, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. you’re not sure what it is, but it makes your pulse quicken.

“so, what about you?” he asks suddenly, his gaze piercing. “why are you really here? with a boyfriend who doesn’t seem to pay you much attention?”

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. you glance over at your boyfriend, still engrossed in his conversation, oblivious to your absence.

“i don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “maybe i’m just trying to figure things out.”

minghao’s expression softens, and he leans in closer. “figure what out?”

you take a deep breath, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. “why i’m with someone who doesn’t understand me. why i can’t bring myself to be… intimate with him.”

he studies you for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. “your boyfriend probably doesn’t even know the way you taste.”

your breath hitches, the bluntness of his statement hitting you harder than you’d like to admit. you laugh it off, though the sound is hollow. “yeah, true,” you sigh, surprising even yourself with your honesty.

minghao's eyes narrow slightly, curiosity evident in his gaze. "what, really? why?"

you feel a mix of irritation and vulnerability. his directness is unnerving, and you can't decide whether you appreciate it or hate it. "scared," you mutter, turning your eyes away from him, focusing instead on the rim of your drink. the conversation suddenly feels too real, too raw.

he frowns, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "scared of what?"

your fingers tighten around your glass, the condensation making your skin slick. "too many questions," you reply, your voice strained. you take a large sip of your drink, the alcohol burning down your throat. "i'm going to go dance."

you push away from the counter, your heart pounding in your chest as you head towards the makeshift dance floor. the music engulfs you, the bass vibrating through your body. you lose yourself in the rhythm, the world narrowing down to the beat and the movement of your limbs. for a moment, you manage to forget the piercing gaze of minghao, the weight of his questions lingering in the back of your mind.

you spot mingyu in the crowd, his tall frame and easy smile drawing you in like a magnet. he's talking with a group of friends, but his eyes light up when he sees you approaching. you feel a surge of confidence, the alcohol making you bolder, more uninhibited.

"hey, mingyu," you say, your voice a little louder than necessary to be heard over the music.

he turns to you, his smile widening. "hey, y/n! having fun?"

"trying to," you reply with a grin. "dance with me?"

he doesn't need to be asked twice. mingyu wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you start to move to the beat. his movements are smooth and effortless, and you find yourself matching his rhythm easily. the music is loud, the bass pulsing through your veins as you lose yourself in the dance.

you throw your arms around his neck, leaning in closer as the song shifts to a slower, more sensual beat. the room seems to blur around you, your focus narrowing down to the feel of mingyu's hands on your waist, the warmth of his body against yours.

for a moment, it feels like nothing else matters. you can forget about your boyfriend, about minghao's piercing questions. all that exists is the music and the movement, the way your body responds to mingyu's touch.

but then, through the haze of the dance floor, you catch sight of minghao again. he's standing at the edge of the room, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. there's something unreadable in his expression—concern, perhaps, or maybe something deeper. you can't tell, and it frustrates you.

you try to shake off the feeling, focusing instead on mingyu. "you're a good dancer," you say, your voice breathy.

he chuckles, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. "thanks. you're not so bad yourself."

you laugh, the sound mingling with the music. but even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. it's as if minghao's gaze is a physical presence, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

the sensation intensifies, becoming almost unbearable. you open your eyes to see minghao still standing there, his expression unreadable but his gaze unwavering. there's a moment of silent communication between you, something passing between you that you can't quite identify.

before you can react, minghao is beside you, his presence commanding. he gently but firmly places a hand on your arm, pulling you away from mingyu with a surprising amount of strength. "come on," he says, his voice steady but leaving no room for argument. "you need to sober up."

"hey!" you protest, trying to pull away. "i'm fine!"

minghao doesn't relent, his grip firm but not painful as he leads you through the crowd and up the stairs. each step feels like a small battle, the alcohol in your system making your movements sluggish and your thoughts hazy. you barely notice the curious looks from other partygoers as minghao guides you to the second floor.

he opens a door at the end of the hallway, revealing a guest bedroom, and gently but insistently guides you inside. the room is dimly lit, a stark contrast to the chaos downstairs. the silence is almost deafening, broken only by the distant thrum of the music.

minghao closes the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding strangely final. you sway slightly on your feet, the room spinning around you as you try to get your bearings. he places a steadying hand on your arm, his touch grounding you.

“sit down,” he instructs, guiding you to the edge of the bed. you sink down onto the mattress, the soft surface a welcome relief.

he crouches in front of you, his eyes level with yours. there’s a seriousness in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat. he reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand, unscrewing the cap before handing it to you. “drink this,” he says firmly. “you need to sober up.”

you take the bottle from him, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. you bring it to your lips, taking a small sip at first, then a larger one as the refreshing liquid slides down your throat. it feels like the first breath of air after being underwater for too long.

“what?” you ask, catching the intense look in his eyes.

“nothing,” he mutters, flopping back on the bed and pulling out his phone, the blue light illuminating his features.

you frown, turning to look at him. “you’re just going to lay on some random guy’s bed?”

“can’t really give a shit, but i think this is the guest room,” he replies, still focused on his phone.

you nod, a small “oh” escaping your lips. the silence stretches out between you, filled only by the muffled sounds of the party downstairs. you take another sip of water, feeling the fog in your mind slowly start to lift.

you lean back on your hands, your gaze drifting to the ceiling. “why did you bring me here?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

minghao glances at you, his expression unreadable. “because you were about to make a mistake,” he says simply.

you furrow your brow, confusion and frustration warring within you. “what mistake?”

he sits up, his phone forgotten as he turns to face you fully. “you were drunk and about to do something you’d regret. i didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

his words hit you harder than you expected, a mixture of relief and irritation flooding your system. “i can take care of myself,” you snap, though the conviction in your voice wavers.

“i know you can,” he replies calmly. “but sometimes it’s okay to let someone else look out for you.”

you stare at him, the weight of his words settling over you. there’s an honesty in his gaze that’s disarming, and for the first time tonight, you feel a flicker of gratitude towards him.

“thank you,” you say softly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue.

he nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “anytime.”

the silence that follows is different—less charged, more comfortable. you take another sip of water, the clarity returning to your thoughts as the alcohol’s grip begins to loosen.

after a minute, a sudden surge of boldness washes over you. the silence stretches, filled with unspoken tension. you glance at minghao, his focus seemingly back on his phone, but you can feel the subtle shifts in his attention, the way his eyes flicker toward you when he thinks you aren't looking.

you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. the alcohol has dulled your inhibitions, but the clarity from the water has given you a strange sense of purpose. with a determined exhale, you shift your position, moving to straddle his waist. the motion is deliberate, and it catches him off guard.

minghao's phone slips from his hand, forgotten, as he leans up immediately. one hand instinctively goes to your waist, his grip firm and grounding. his eyes search yours, curiosity and amusement mingling in their depths.

“what’re you doing?” he asks, his voice low and tinged with genuine curiosity.

your heart races, the intensity of the moment making you acutely aware of every sensation—the warmth of his hand on your waist, the rise and fall of his chest beneath you, the way his breath mingles with yours. you hold onto his shoulders, the contact grounding you as you lean down, bringing your face inches from his.

“if i’m being honest… you look really good tonight—and i’m horny,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly with a mix of desire and nerves.

minghao's laugh is rich and warm, a sound that reverberates through your body. his grip on your waist tightens slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the charged atmosphere between you. “what happened to you being scared?” he teases, his eyes darkening with interest.

you swallow hard, your gaze dropping to his lips before meeting his eyes again. the closeness is intoxicating, the tension palpable. “well… it’s you,” you whisper, the words hanging in the air between you. “you know what they say, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

for a moment, time seems to stand still. the room around you fades away, leaving just the two of you suspended in this electrifying moment. then, as if pulled by an irresistible force, your lips finally meet.

the kiss is everything you didn’t know you needed. it starts tentatively, both of you testing the waters, but quickly escalates. it’s hungry, desperate, and filled with a passion that takes you both by surprise. minghao’s hand slides from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might disappear.

the world outside this room ceases to exist. there’s only the taste of him, the feel of his body against yours, the way his breath hitches when you press closer. the kiss is messy, your lips and tongues clashing in a dance that feels both frenzied and perfectly synchronized.

minghao shifts beneath you, his other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, angling you for better access. you moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you and spurring you both on. he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting heavily.

“y/n,” he murmurs, your name a soft plea on his lips.

you don’t respond with words. instead, you kiss him again, your lips moving with more urgency, more need. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared desire—the rustle of clothing, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic beat of your heart pounding in your ears.

minghao’s hands are everywhere, mapping out the curves of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. he slips his fingers under the hem of your shirt, the contact of his skin against yours sending a shiver down your spine. you arch into his touch, craving more, needing more.

he flips you onto your back, his movements fluid and purposeful. his lips trail down your neck, sucking and nibbling at your sensitive skin, each touch making you gasp and writhe beneath him. his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until you lift your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head and discard it.

“beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes raking over your exposed skin with a reverence that makes your heart flutter.

you reach for him, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. he helps you, shrugging out of the fabric and tossing it aside. your hands explore the expanse of his chest, feeling the muscles tense and relax under your touch. it’s overwhelming, the intensity of your desire for him, the way every nerve in your body seems to be alight with need.

the kiss deepens, becoming sloppy and filled with need. minghao's lips move against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. his tongue teases your lower lip before delving deeper, tangling with yours in a dance of raw desire. each kiss feels like it's pulling you further into a vortex of passion, leaving you craving more.

his hand slides up your thigh, the touch light and teasing at first, sending shivers down your spine. the heat of his palm against your skin ignites a fire within you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. he pauses for a moment, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin just below the hem of your skirt, making you gasp.

minghao's eyes meet yours, a silent question lingering in their depths. you nod, giving him the permission he seeks. with a swift but gentle motion, he flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. the weight of him, the warmth of his skin against yours, is both grounding and electrifying.

his lips leave a trail of fire down your neck, each kiss deliberate and sensual. you arch your back, giving him better access as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below your ear. he nips at the skin, eliciting a soft moan from you, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

minghao's hand continues its journey, slipping under your skirt and trailing up the inside of your thigh. his touch is firm but gentle, his fingers exploring the soft skin with a reverence that makes you tremble. he pauses again, his eyes locking with yours as his fingers brush against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“you’re so responsive,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “it’s driving me crazy.”

you bite your lip, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues to tease you. “minghao, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “patience,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your collarbone. “i want to savor this.”

his fingers slide under the fabric, finding your wetness. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand as he expertly teases you, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through your body. his thumb circles your clit, the pressure light and teasing, driving you to the edge but never quite letting you tip over.

“minghao,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to you as if afraid he might pull away. “i need you.”

he pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reactions. “i’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

he slips a finger inside you, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. you gasp, your body arching into his touch, every nerve ending on fire. he moves slowly at first, his finger exploring your depths with a gentleness that makes you ache for more. he adds another finger, stretching you, filling you, each movement deliberate and controlled.

his lips find yours again, the kiss a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. you lose yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him, every touch and every kiss pushing you closer to the edge. he moves his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your clit, the dual sensations driving you wild.

“please,” you beg, your voice barely a whisper, the need for release consuming you. “i need to come.”

minghao’s eyes meet yours, a flicker of something soft and caring in their depths. “not yet,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours in a barely-there kiss. “i want to watch you fall apart.”

he increases the pace of his fingers, each thrust hitting just the right spot, his thumb applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit. you feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

“please,” you beg again, your voice a desperate plea.

with a final, skillful flick of his fingers, he pushes you over the edge. you cry out, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing over you in an intense, all-consuming rush. minghao doesn’t stop, his fingers and thumb continuing their relentless assault, prolonging your pleasure, making you see stars.

he watches you the entire time, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. “you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

when you finally come down from the high, your body trembling and spent, he gently withdraws his fingers, his touch soothing as he caresses your thigh. you look up at him, your eyes half-lidded and hazy with satisfaction.

“minghao,” you whisper, reaching out to him, needing the connection, the closeness.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. “i’m here,” he whispers against your lips. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you pull him closer, your fingers trailing down his chest to the waistband of his pants. he inhales sharply as you undo the button and slide the zipper down, your touch sending a shiver through him.

he stands up briefly, the absence of his warmth leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. his movements are hurried, but there’s a grace to them that you can’t help but admire. the way his muscles flex under his skin as he discards his clothes is mesmerizing, each motion deliberate and efficient. you watch him, your heart pounding in anticipation, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him.

minghao’s shirt falls to the floor first, followed by his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. the dim light casts shadows across his body, highlighting the defined lines of his muscles. he glances at you, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and slides them down. you can’t tear your eyes away, your gaze drinking in every inch of him.

when he’s finally free of his clothes, he stands there for a moment, the weight of the moment hanging between you. the raw vulnerability of being completely exposed, both physically and emotionally, is almost overwhelming. you reach out to him, your fingers trailing lightly over his abdomen, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch.

he shivers slightly, his breath hitching as your fingers brush against him. he reaches for a condom from his discarded pants, tearing the packet open with his teeth. the sound is loud in the quiet room, a sharp contrast to the softness of the moment. he rolls it on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours.

minghao lowers himself over you, his body a comforting weight, his skin warm against yours. he pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle and filled with concern.

you nod, your heart swelling with affection and desire. “i’m sure,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions coursing through you.

he positions himself at your entrance, the tip of him pressing against your wetness. he pushes in slowly, the sensation both familiar and entirely new. you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fills you completely, the stretch a delicious burn. the world narrows down to the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly.

minghao moves slowly at first, his thrusts measured and controlled. he’s giving you time to adjust, to savor the sensation of being connected in such an intimate way. each movement is deliberate, his eyes locked on yours, watching for your reactions. the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s so attuned to your needs, makes your heart swell with emotion.

as you grow accustomed to the feel of him, you begin to move with him, matching his rhythm. the pace quickens, each thrust deeper and more urgent. the room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure—the slap of skin against skin, the soft gasps and moans, the rhythmic pounding of your heart.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing more, craving more. he responds with a thrust that hits just the right spot, making you cry out his name. “minghao,” you moan, your nails dragging down his back, leaving faint red trails.

he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, his movements becoming more erratic as he nears his own release. “come for me, y/n,” he whispers against your lips, his voice rough with need.

with a final thrust, you shatter, the orgasm washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent. minghao follows soon after, his release spilling into the condom, his body tensing and then relaxing against yours. the feeling of him filling you, even with the barrier between you, is overwhelmingly intimate, a physical manifestation of the connection you feel.

the room is quiet, save for the distant hum of the party downstairs and the sound of your breathing as you both come down from the high of your shared experience. minghao's weight shifts beside you, his warmth a comforting presence in the cool room.

he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender. his fingers linger for a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek before he speaks. “you okay?” he asks, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, the reality of what just happened beginning to sink in. “yeah,” you breathe, a small smile playing on your lips. “i’m okay.”

relief washes over his features, and he nods, his eyes never leaving yours. he pulls away slightly, his movements slow and careful as he disposes of the condom, his actions methodical and precise. you watch him, feeling a strange sense of intimacy in the mundane act.

when he returns to the bed, he lays beside you, his presence a comforting weight. he props himself up on one elbow, his gaze soft as he looks at you. there’s a moment of silence, filled with the unspoken emotions and thoughts swirling between you.

minghao breaks the silence, his voice serious but gentle. “we can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” his words are a request and a plea, the gravity of the situation clear in his eyes.

you take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “whatever,” you mutter, feeling a mix of emotions. the reality of what just happened is complex, a blend of relief, confusion, and something else you can’t quite identify. “thanks for the first time,” you add, your voice softening as you meet his gaze.

a soft laugh escapes his lips, the sound soothing in the quiet room. “anytime,” he replies, his eyes softening as he looks at you. there’s a warmth in his gaze, a depth of emotion that makes your heart ache in a way you can’t quite explain.

you both lay there in silence for a while, the quiet moments stretching out, filled with the unspoken understanding between you. the reality of what just happened is starting to settle, the magnitude of the shift in your relationship becoming clear.

minghao’s fingers find yours, his touch light and reassuring. he squeezes your hand gently, a silent promise that he’s here for you, that this moment meant something to him too. you squeeze back, the simple gesture conveying more than words ever could.

you turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “this changes things, doesn’t it?” you whisper, the question hanging in the air between you.

he nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, it does,” he admits, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and hope. “but maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

you ponder his words, the truth of them resonating deep within you. the dynamic between you has shifted, the lines between enemies and something more becoming blurred. it’s a lot to take in, but there’s a part of you that feels a strange sense of contentment, a sense of rightness in what just happened.

as the minutes tick by, the silence becomes more comfortable, the tension easing into a shared understanding. you both know that things won’t be the same after tonight, but there’s a sense of anticipation, of curiosity about what the future holds.

minghao’s eyes grow heavy, and you can see the fatigue setting in. “we should probably get some sleep,” he murmurs, his voice soft and drowsy.

you nod, feeling the exhaustion creeping into your own limbs. “yeah, you’re right,” you agree, snuggling closer to him, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence.

he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his embrace. the feeling of his body against yours is reassuring, a silent promise that he’s here with you, that you’re not alone. you close your eyes, the events of the night replaying in your mind as you drift off to sleep.

the night passes slowly, filled with the quiet sounds of your breathing and the warmth of minghao’s embrace. when you wake in the morning, the first light of dawn filtering through the curtains, you feel a sense of calm, of clarity.

you glance over at minghao, his face peaceful in sleep, and you wonder how this will change things between you. there's a part of you that’s excited, that’s hopeful for what the future holds. but there’s also a realization that you can’t ignore: your current relationship with your boyfriend isn’t right for you.

the thought of breaking up with him has crossed your mind before, but it’s never been as clear as it is now. last night made you realize that you deserve to be with someone who understands you, someone who makes you feel safe and cherished. someone like minghao.

quietly, you slip out of minghao’s embrace, careful not to wake him. you sit up in bed, watching him for a moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing your anxious thoughts. leaning down, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent thank you for everything he’s shown you, for the clarity he’s brought to your life.

minghao stirs slightly, a soft murmur escaping his lips, but he doesn’t wake. you smile softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face before you slip out of bed. the room is cool, and you shiver as you gather your clothes, dressing quickly and quietly.

before you leave, you take one last look at minghao, a sense of determination settling over you. you know what you have to do, and you’re ready to face it. you’re ready to make a change, to pursue something real and meaningful.

as you step out of the room and close the door softly behind you, the reality of what you need to do sinks in. you pull out your phone, staring at the screen for a moment at the spam messages he sent last night.

boyfriend: baby? boyfriend: yo where you at? boyfriend: people are telling me they saw you leave with that guy you claim to hate wtf??? boyfriend: IM WORRIED. IM GOING HOME. YOU BETTER CALL ME!

you sighed, before typing out a message to your boyfriend. it’s not an easy message to send, but it’s necessary.

you: we need to talk. you: i think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.

367 notes · View notes

fvsm4x · 4 months ago

Text

𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐃 ✧ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩 𝟏 • 𝐫𝐞-𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝

Growing up as childhood friends, you and Satoru Gojo share a deep bond that only strengthens as you both mature. Now, as your personal knight and protector, Satoru's feelings for you become harder to hide.

cw. guard gojo s. x princess fem. reader / arranged marriage / violence / tension / wc. 12k

taglist: @sadmonke @theonlyhonoredone @itzmeme @dcvilxswish @kalopsia-flaneur @misslovingpearl @gojoslefttoenail @ryumurin @zoeyflower

series masterlist - prev | next

The morning sun spilled across the palace grounds, casting long shadows over the training fields where knights sparred with precision and discipline. But inside the royal stables, the atmosphere was anything but orderly. You tightened your grip on the reins of your horse, the powerful creature pawing the ground impatiently as you readied yourself for the day’s escape.

The sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears just as you swung up into the saddle. You turned to see Satoru Gojo, your ever-vigilant knight, striding toward you with that familiar mix of exasperation and amusement in his eyes. His silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, tousled in a way that hinted he’d rushed here, probably after hearing you’d once again slipped away from your royal duties.

“Y/N,” Satoru called out, his voice a blend of authority and a sigh that told you he’d been through this too many times before. “Tell me you’re not planning to ride out of the palace again.”

You flashed him a grin, the kind that always made his shoulders tense. “And what if I am? You know these council meetings bore me to tears, Satoru. I need a real adventure.”

He reached your side just as you guided your horse toward the gate, his hand landing on the reins,“And what do you think your father will say when he finds out his only daughter has ditched her royal duties for the fourth time this month?”

You shrugged, meeting his gaze without a trace of guilt. “He’ll probably scold me and send you to fetch me, just like always. So, why don’t you skip that part and let me have a few hours of freedom before you drag me back?”

Satoru’s lips quivered in a half-smile, though his eyes held a warning. “You know I can’t do that. My job is to keep you safe, not to mention make sure you’re present at these meetings. You’re the future queen, Y/N, not a knight out for a thrill.”

His words were serious, but they only fueled the rebellious fire burning in your chest. You leaned forward slightly, your voice dropping to a daring whisper. “Maybe I’d rather be a knight than a queen. At least knights get to see the world beyond these walls.”

Satoru’s grip on the reins tightened just enough to halt your horse, his gaze locking with yours. “And maybe you forget that the world beyond these walls isn’t as forgiving as you think. It’s my job to remind you of that, even if it means being the one to stand in your way.”

For a moment, the air between you was charged with the tension of an ongoing battle—a battle you both knew too well. Satoru was right, of course. Your father had assigned him to you not just for protection, but to temper the wild streak that had always set you apart from other princesses. But where was the fun in always being right?

With a dramatic sigh, you sat back in the saddle, a playful pout on your lips. “Fine. I’ll attend the council meeting… after we take a quick ride through the forest. Just to clear my head.”

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “And by ‘quick,’ you mean?”

“An hour. Maybe two.” You flashed him your most disarming smile. “Come on, Satoru. It’s a beautiful day. Don’t tell me you’re going to spend it cooped up in that stuffy council room.”

He studied you for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—the struggle between his duty and the undeniable pull you’d always had on him. Finally, he sighed, releasing the reins and stepping back. “An hour,” he said, his tone firm. “But if you’re late to the meeting, I’m not covering for you this time.”

You grinned triumphantly, nudging your horse forward. “Deal. Now try to keep up, Sir Gojo.”

With a whoop, you urged your horse into a gallop, the wind whipping through your hair as you sped toward the forest. Behind you, you heard Satoru mutter something under his breath before he mounted his own horse and followed, the sound of hooves thundering against the ground.

As the two of you raced toward the trees, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of exhilaration. Satoru might be your protector, but he was also the only one who understood your need to break free, even if just for a little while. And in these moments, when it was just the two of you and the open road ahead, you felt more alive than any crown or royal duty could ever make you feel.

The dense canopy of the forest enveloped you as you and Satoru plunged into the shadowy depths, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. The familiar scent of earth and pine filled your senses, calming the restless energy that had driven you out of the palace. Here, among the towering trees and winding paths, you felt like yourself—wild, free, unburdened by the expectations that came with your title.

You glanced over at Satoru, who was keeping pace beside you, his expression a mixture of focus and resignation. His horse moved as if in perfect sync with him, every motion smooth and calculated. You knew he was keeping a close eye on you, ready to react if you did something particularly reckless—as you often did. The thought brought a smirk to your lips.

“So, how long before you try to drag me back this time? Cause I don‘t believe you will allow me to be here for an hour.” you teased, leaning forward slightly as your horse jumped a fallen log.

Satoru didn’t miss a beat, easily clearing the log himself. “You’re right, but it depends on you, princess. If you manage to stay out of trouble, maybe we’ll actually make it back on time for once.”

You laughed, the sound echoing through the forest. “Where’s the fun in that? We both know I’m not built for sitting still and behaving.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But maybe, just this once, you could surprise me.”

You leaned back in the saddle, the reins loose in your hands as you looked over at him. “Surprise you? Like agreeing to marry one of those pompous suitors my father keeps parading in front of me?”

Satoru’s smile faded slightly, and his gaze turned serious. “Y/N, you know this isn’t just about you. The kingdom—”

“—needs me to marry for alliances, to secure peace, to fulfill my duty,” you finished for him, the familiar words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I’ve heard it all before, Satoru. But no one ever asks what I want.”

Satoru's expression became gentle, and he moved his horse closer to you while speaking in a softer tone. He asked, "What do you want?" The question hung in the air, the only sound being the steady thud of hooves on the dirt road as you both rode in silence for a moment.

This question had crossed your mind before, usually when you were alone in your room feeling overwhelmed by thoughts of your future. You wanted freedom, adventure, and the chance to live life on your own terms. But there was something more profound you yearned for, something beyond duty and your royal responsibilities.

You felt a deep desire for something meaningful, something that resonated with your true self. This unspoken longing stirred within you, pushing you to search for a sense of purpose that went beyond the boundaries of your kingdom.

But before you could respond to Satoru’s comment, the sudden rustling of leaves in the underbrush snapped your attention back to the present. Satoru’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, his sharp eyes scanning the dense line of trees ahead. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to spring into action. “Stay close,” he commanded, his voice dropping into a low, serious tone that left no room for argument.

Of course, you ignored him. You pulled your horse to a halt beside his, your eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, and for a fleeting moment, you almost convinced yourself it had been nothing—a deer, perhaps, or the wind stirring the branches. But then, out of the darkness, figures began to emerge, their forms blending into the gloom until they were almost upon you.

They were men clad in ragged, mismatched armor, their faces hidden beneath hoods pulled low over their eyes. Bandits.

“Looks like we’ve got company,” you muttered under your breath, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through your veins.

Satoru shot you a hard look, his voice a razor-sharp edge. “Y/N, get back to the palace. Now.”

The command bristled against your nerves. You tightened your grip on the reins, your jaw set stubbornly. “I’m not running, Satoru. I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

His eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw, but he didn’t argue further. Instead, he drew his sword with a smooth, practiced motion. The blade gleamed with a deadly promise, catching the dim light filtering through the trees. “Fine,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “But stay behind me.”

The bandits clearly underestimated you, assuming they’d caught an unprotected royal on a leisurely ride through the forest. They had no idea who they were dealing with. As the men moved to encircle you, Satoru spurred his horse forward with a speed and ferocity that caught them off guard.

You leaped from your horse, landing lightly on your feet as you reached for the short sword hidden in your saddle—a gift from Satoru, who had spent years teaching you how to wield it. The first bandit approached you with a lazy confidence, his swing wild and uncoordinated as if he expected an easy kill. You sidestepped his attack, your blade slicing through the air with precision as you cut across his arm. The bandit stumbled back, clutching his bleeding wound with a pained grunt.

As you turned to face your next attacker, you felt a sudden pull on your gown. The fabric snagged on a jagged branch, and with a harsh rip, it tore from your hip to your knee, exposing your leg. You glanced down briefly, irritation flaring at the sight of the ruined silk, now stained with dirt and torn wide open. But there was no time to dwell on it.

Another bandit lunged at you, and you refocused, your movements unhindered by the ruined gown. If anything, the tear gave you more freedom to move, allowing you to dodge and strike with greater agility. You parried his attack with a quick flick of your wrist, then countered with a swift slash across his side, sending him crashing to the ground.

Satoru was a force of nature beside you, his sword slicing through the air with lethal precision. His movements were fluid and controlled, every strike landing with deadly accuracy. Even in the chaos of battle, there was a part of you that felt strangely alive—more alive than you ever felt within the walls of the palace. Here, in the midst of danger, you weren’t just a princess confined by duty and expectation. You were a fighter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the one person who made you feel truly free.

The battle ended almost as quickly as it had begun. The bandits, realizing they were outmatched, retreated into the forest, leaving behind only a few groaning bodies and the remnants of their failed ambush. You stood there, chest heaving with exertion, a triumphant grin spreading across your face as you watched them flee.

Satoru sheathed his sword, turning to you with that familiar look of disdain. “Next time you decide to skip a council meeting, could you at least pick a direction that doesn’t involve getting us ambushed?”

“And miss all the fun?” you shot back, wiping a smear of dirt from your cheek. “Besides, you’re always saying I need to learn to defend myself.”

“You did alright,” he admitted begrudgingly, though his tone was far from complimentary. “But if you’d just listened to me in the first place, your dress wouldn’t be ruined.”

You glanced down at the torn fabric, the once-beautiful gown now reduced to tatters, and shrugged. “It’s just a dress. I’ll tell my father it was a casualty of battle.”

Satoru sighed, shaking his head. “Your father’s going to have a fit when he sees you like this. And I’m going to be the one who has to explain it.”

"That’s what you get for sticking around," you quipped with a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe next time you’ll think twice before volunteering to be my knight."

Satoru’s usual smirk flickered, but instead of the usual banter, his eyes darkened with something harsher. "Believe me, I will," he muttered, his voice carrying an edge that made you flinch. His tone sharpened as he added, "You think this is a joke, don’t you? Running around, playing hero. You could’ve been killed back there."

You bristled at his words, your own irritation flaring up. "I’m not some helpless damsel, Satoru. I can take care of myself."

His eyes flashed, and for a moment, the anger simmering beneath the surface broke through. "Yeah? And what happens when your little stunts get you killed? Who’s going to take care of the kingdom then? Who’s going to explain to your father that his only heir got herself killed because she couldn’t stay out of trouble?"

The harshness in his voice stung, more than you wanted to admit. You opened your mouth to fire back a retort, but the words caught in your throat when you saw the genuine fear in his eyes, barely concealed by his anger.

For a brief moment, the tension between you felt like a knife’s edge, sharp and dangerous. But then Satoru’s expression shifted, the anger fading into something more conflicted. He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his white hair. "Damn it, Y/N," he muttered, his voice softer but still tight with emotion. "You don’t get it, do you?"

He reached out abruptly, wiping a smudge of dirt from your cheek with a roughness that was more from his frustration than anything else. His hand lingered for a moment, and then he quickly pulled back as if realizing he’d let his guard down too much. "Be careful next time, will ya?" he added, his voice softer but still tinged with irritation.

You stared at him, your own anger mingling with a confusing swirl of emotions. "Whatever," you muttered, trying to dismiss the moment, but your voice lacked conviction.

He scoffed, clearly still irritated. "Yeah, 'whatever.' Just remember that next time you’re charging headfirst into danger, thinking you’re invincible."

You met his gaze, the tension between you heavy and palpable. His eyes were a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, worry, something else you couldn’t quite name. You wanted to say something, to break the tension, but before you could find the words, he turned away, the harsh reality of your situation crashing back in.

"We should head back," you finally said, your voice tinged with reluctance as you pulled away from the charged moment. "Before my father sends the entire guard to find us."

Satoru nodded, but there was still a tightness in his expression, a lingering anger that hadn’t fully dissipated. "Yeah, we should," he agreed, but his voice was clipped. "Wouldn’t want anyone else thinking you’re out here getting yourself into more trouble."

As you both turned your horses back toward the palace, the tension between you didn’t fully fade. It hovered, unspoken and unresolved, following you like a shadow. Every step your horse took seemed to echo in the heavy silence that had settled between you and Satoru. The air around you felt thick, charged with the weight of things left unsaid.

The ride back to the palace was quiet but not peaceful. The silence wasn’t one of comfort, but of brewing storms. Satoru rode beside you, his posture stiff, his jaw clenched tightly as if holding back a flood of words. You could feel his gaze flicker toward you now and then, sharp and assessing, but he kept his thoughts to himself. Not that you needed him to speak to know what he was thinking. His anger was palpable, radiating off him like heat from a fire that hadn’t yet burned out.

The wind tugged at the torn edges of your gown, a constant reminder of the fight you had just won. You could still feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, though it was beginning to fade, leaving behind a weariness that seeped into your bones. The thrill of battle was something you had never been able to resist, but it always came with a price. Now, as you neared the palace, that price felt heavier than ever. The fight was over, but you knew the real battle awaited you inside those stone walls.

You risked a glance at Satoru, who was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable. But you knew him well enough to see the signs—the tense set of his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the reins a little too tightly. He was angry, maybe even more than usual. His silence spoke volumes. You could almost hear the reprimand he was holding back, the same words he always threw at you after a dangerous encounter: You’re too reckless. You’re going to get yourself killed. Why don’t you ever think before you act?

But you weren’t about to apologize. You had done what needed to be done. You weren’t some fragile flower that needed constant protection, and it frustrated you that Satoru couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see that. You knew he cared, but sometimes his concern felt suffocating, like a chain that kept tightening around you. You weren’t just a princess locked away in a tower. You were a fighter, someone who could handle themselves in the face of danger. But convincing Satoru of that was a battle you never seemed to win.

Satoru’s concern cut deeper because you’d known him for so long. You weren’t just a princess to him, and he wasn’t just your knight—he was your childhood friend, someone who had stood by your side through countless trials. That connection was what made his anger sting all the more. He wasn’t angry because you were a princess who’d been reckless; he was angry because you were you, and he cared too much to see you put yourself in harm’s way.

You tried to shake off the irritation, but it clung to you as stubbornly as the dirt on your dress. Satoru hadn’t said much since the bandits attacked, just the occasional sharp comment about your recklessness. His voice still echoed in your mind, laced with a bitterness that stung more than any wound. "You think this is a joke, don’t you? Running around, playing hero. You could’ve been killed back there."

You knew he was right, at least partly. But the way he said it, like you were nothing but a foolish child playing at being a warrior, made your blood boil. Who was he to lecture you? He was just your knight, sworn to protect you, not to control you. He had no right to judge your choices, especially when you were the one who had to bear the weight of the crown someday. The crown he seemed to forget you were destined to wear.

The palace loomed ahead, its imposing towers and thick walls casting long shadows in the fading light. The closer you got, the heavier the sense of dread that settled in your chest. You could already imagine the scolding you’d receive from your father, the disapproving looks from the council. They wouldn’t care about the bandits you’d fought off, the danger you’d faced. They’d only see the torn dress, the dirt, the reckless princess who couldn’t stay out of trouble.

As you approached the main gates, Satoru finally spoke, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

His tone was sharp, laced with the irritation he’d been holding back for the entire ride. “You know,” he began, not looking at you, “one of these days, your luck’s going to run out. And when it does, I won’t be there to pull you out of the fire.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the urge to snap back. The tension between you had been simmering since the fight, and now it felt like it was about to boil over. “I didn’t ask you to pull me out of anything,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” Satoru shot back, his words dripping with sarcasm. “Because getting ambushed by bandits and nearly getting yourself killed is just another day for you, right?”

You tightened your grip on the reins, trying to suppress the frustration building inside you. His words cut deep, not because of what he said, but because of the way he said it—like you were nothing but a burden, a reckless child who didn’t know better.

“I didn’t nearly get killed,” you retorted, your voice rising despite your best efforts to stay calm. “I handled it, just like I always do. I’m not some helpless damsel you need to save every time something goes wrong.”

Satoru finally turned to look at you, his eyes flashing with anger. “No, you’re not helpless,” he said, his voice low and intense. “But you’re reckless. And one day, that’s going to get you in trouble you can’t fight your way out of.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You could feel the anger radiating off him, but beneath that, there was something else—fear. It was fleeting, almost imperceptible, but it was there, lurking behind the harsh words. Satoru was afraid for you, and that fear was what fueled his anger.

But instead of softening at the realization, you felt your own anger flare up. “You don’t get to decide how I live my life, Satoru,” you snapped, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. “I’m not some fragile flower that needs to be kept under glass. I’m going to be queen one day, and I need to be able to fight my own battles.”

He let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “And what good is being queen if you’re dead before you even get the chance? You think just because you’re royal, you’re invincible? That nothing can touch you?”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. The truth was, part of you did feel invincible—like nothing could truly harm you as long as you kept fighting, kept pushing forward. But Satoru’s words cut through that illusion, bringing the reality crashing down around you.

“I know I’m not invincible,” you said quietly, the fight suddenly draining out of you.

Satoru didn’t respond right away, and when he did, his voice was softer, almost resigned. “Just don’t make me bury you, Y/N. That’s all I ask.”

The words hit you harder than anything else he’d said, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The thought of leaving him behind, of dying and never seeing him again, was something you couldn’t bear to think about. But you couldn’t let that fear control you. You had responsibilities, duties that went beyond your own safety.

“I won’t,” you promised, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

The palace gates creaked open, and as you rode through them, the tension between you and Satoru clung like a heavy fog. The silence was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the chaos of the fight that had just ended. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions pressed heavily on both of you, making each breath feel like an effort.

The ride through the palace grounds was quiet, each hoofbeat echoing in the cold air. The once-thrilling adrenaline of battle had dissipated, leaving a weary heaviness in its place. The torn edges of your gown flapped in the wind, a constant reminder of the skirmish and the mess you were about to face. The closer you got to the courtyard, the more the anxiety of returning to your father and the council weighed on you.

As you arrived in the courtyard, the scene was immediately filled with the unmistakable tension of disapproval. A group of guards stood at attention, their faces a mix of concern and irritation, while one of your father’s advisors, an elderly man with a stern demeanor, was clearly waiting for your arrival. His gaze shifted to your disheveled appearance, taking in the torn and dirt-streaked gown with an almost palpable disapproval.

The advisor’s eyes narrowed as he took in the state of your attire. “Princess Y/N,” he began, his voice carrying a sharp edge, “I trust you have a very good explanation for this?”

You dismounted with a weary sigh, trying to steady your nerves. The advisor’s scrutiny was the last thing you needed, but you knew better than to brush it off. “I’m fine,” you said, your tone firm though tired. “There was a bandit ambush. We handled it.”

The advisor’s frown deepened. “Handled it, you say? And what of the dress? This is hardly suitable attire for someone of your status.”

Before you could respond, Satoru, who had dismounted beside you, stepped forward. His face was still set in a hard line, but there was a note of frustration in his voice. “The dress can be repaired,” he said, his tone sharp. “The important thing is that she’s safe.”

The advisor looked between you and Satoru, clearly not impressed. “Safety is not the only concern, Lord Gojo. The princess’s appearance and behavior reflect directly on the crown.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened, and he shot you a quick, unreadable glance. The flicker of irritation in his eyes was almost imperceptible, but it was there. His anger wasn’t solely directed at the advisor or the situation. it was also a manifestation of his frustration with the entire situation, including your stubbornness and the danger you had willingly walked into.

You felt a surge of guilt and irritation. The bandits were no longer the issue; it was the aftermath—the judgment from those who couldn’t see past the torn fabric to the reality of what had happened.

The advisor's voice cut through the air, carrying an edge of reproach as he spoke. "We will need to discuss this matter further. Please proceed to the council chamber immediately. Your father is waiting for you."

You exchanged a brief, frustrated glance with Satoru before you nodded and replied, “Well, I’m here now. So lead the way.”

The advisor’s lips thinned, but he made no further comment as he turned on his heel and started walking towards the council chamber. You and Satoru followed closely behind, the sound of your boots echoing in the grand hallways of the palace. The opulence of your surroundings felt distant now, overshadowed by the tension that gripped you both.

As you walked, Satoru leaned in, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You know, you could at least try not to make things harder for yourself,” he said, his tone sharp and edged with frustration.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, replying in the same hushed tone, “And you could try not being such a nag. But I guess we can’t all get what we want.”

Satoru’s response was a soft snort, though there was a hint of genuine frustration in his voice. “Maybe if you actually listened to me once in a while, I wouldn’t have to nag.”

You quickened your pace, creating a bit of distance between you. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re the only one who knows anything, I might consider it.”

The conversation fizzled out as you reached the grand doors of the council chamber. They swung open to reveal a room filled with stern-faced nobles and advisors. The soft murmurs that had been filling the room fell to a hushed silence as the assembled crowd took in the state of your disheveled appearance. The dirt smeared across your face and the torn gown made a stark contrast against the polished grandeur of the palace.

At the head of the room stood your father, his face a storm of worry and barely concealed anger. The lines around his eyes deepened as he took in the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice heavy with a mix of frustration and concern. “Where have you been, and what on earth happened to you?”

You met his gaze, trying to steady your nerves under the intense scrutiny of the room. “I was out on a ride, and we encountered some bandits. We managed to handle the situation, but... well, this is the result.”

The council members exchanged looks, their whispers rising into a cacophony of disapproval and concern. You could feel the pressure mounting as your father’s gaze never wavered, his eyes locked on you with an intensity that made it clear he wasn’t just upset about your appearance.

“Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?” he demanded, his voice rising. “This isn’t just about your personal safety—it’s about the responsibilities you have to this kingdom. You can’t keep acting as if you’re invincible.”

Satoru remained silent by your side, his presence an unspoken weight in the midst of your father’s fiery reprimand. The tension in the room was palpable, a mixture of frustration and concern etched into Satoru’s features. Despite his silence, his presence seemed to amplify the gravity of the situation.

You struggled to maintain your composure, the scrutiny from your father and the council members weighing heavily on you. “I understand your concerns, Father. But there are times when immediate action is necessary.”

Your father’s stern gaze softened just a fraction, though his voice remained firm. “That’s not the issue here. You have a responsibility to protect yourself as much as you have a duty to safeguard the kingdom. Charging into danger without proper preparation or escort endangers not only yourself but those who are tasked with your protection.”

Satoru, unable to hold back any longer, stepped forward. His irritation was clear in his tone. “Maybe if you spent less time trying to prove how invincible you are, and more time considering the consequences of your actions, we wouldn’t be dealing with this right now.”

You glared at him, your frustration boiling over. “And maybe if you weren’t so busy controlling every aspect of my life, you’d actually see that I can handle myself just fine.”

The room crackled with tension, the sharp words hanging heavily in the air. Before the argument could escalate further, your father’s authoritative voice cut through the discord. “Enough, both of you,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “We will address this matter further later. For now, Y/N, go and make yourself presentable.”

You clenched your fists, biting back a retort. With one last glare at Satoru, you turned and stormed out of the room, your torn dress trailing behind you. Satoru’s footsteps echoed behind you as he followed, and you couldn’t help but feel the familiar mixture of frustration and… something else whenever he was near.

As you headed toward your chambers, the silence between you and Satoru was thick and charged. The grand corridors of the palace seemed to amplify the tension, each echo of your footsteps underscoring the unspoken frustration between you.

Satoru caught up to you with a determined stride, his expression a mix of exasperation and concern. He took a deep breath before speaking, his voice laced with irritation. “You know, it’s not just about you trying to prove how tough you are. It’s about all of us who have to clean up the mess when things go wrong.”

You shot him a sharp look. “And here I thought you were just my knight, not my babysitter.”

Satoru’s eyes narrowed. “Well, it’s a lot easier to keep you out of trouble when you don’t keep running headfirst into it. Do you have any idea how reckless that was? You could’ve been seriously hurt, or worse.”

You felt a sting at his words, but you bit back a retort. “I can handle myself. Maybe if you didn’t act like you’re the only one with a brain around here, I wouldn’t feel the need to prove that.”

Satoru’s jaw clenched. “Oh, right. Because risking your life is the best way to prove you’re capable. You know, sometimes I wonder if you do this on purpose, just to get a reaction out of me.”

You stopped in your tracks, spinning to face him. “And maybe if you stopped being so overbearing, I’d actually listen to you once in a while. I’m not a child, Satoru. I don’t need to be shielded from every danger.”

His eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and something softer, almost pained. “It’s not about shielding you. It's about keeping you alive. But if you’re so determined to ignore everyone who cares about you, then fine.Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to always be there to pick up the pieces.”

“Don’t worry, Satoru. I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Without waiting for a reply, you slammed the door behind you, the resounding thud echoing in the corridor. Satoru stood there, his face a complex mask of frustration and concern, but you didn’t give him a second glance.

You made your way to a full-length mirror positioned against one wall of your chamber. The sight that greeted you only fueled your irritation. The gown that had been a symbol of elegance and grace was now a tattered mess, its once-pristine fabric stained with mud and torn in several places. The dirt smeared across your face made you look every bit the disheveled warrior rather than the poised princess you were supposed to be.

As you began to untangle the tangled fabric, the task quickly proved to be more overwhelming than you anticipated. The corset, which had once fit comfortably, now felt like a confining cage, a stark reminder of the expectations and constraints that weighed heavily on you. The delicate silk was now in shreds, and the frustration of the day seemed to pile on top of the physical mess in front of you.

Just as you were about to give up on the gown, a knock at the door drew your attention. You turned to see one of your maids standing in the doorway. Her familiar, soothing voice broke through your turbulent thoughts.

“Princess Y/N? May I come in?”

Grateful for the interruption, you managed a curt nod. “Yes, come in.”

The maid entered with a look of concern as she took in the state of your appearance. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of your torn dress and the dirt streaked across your face, but she quickly masked her surprise with a professional demeanor.

“Oh, my! What happened to you?” she asked, her tone a mixture of worry and astonishment.

“It’s nothing,” you replied sharply, though your voice lacked the conviction you hoped for. “Just… a bit of trouble on my ride.”

Without further prompting, the maid began to work on the gown, deftly maneuvering the fabric and doing her best to salvage what she could. As she worked, her gentle hands and quiet presence offered a brief respite from the chaos of the day. You sank onto a nearby chair, feeling the weight of the events pressing down on you. The adrenaline was gone, leaving behind a weariness that made every action feel like an effort.

As the maid continued to repair the damage, you found yourself staring blankly at the reflection in the mirror. The image of yourself, so unlike the poised princess you were expected to be, brought a fresh wave of frustration. The torn gown and dirt-streaked face were stark reminders of the day's struggles, both physical and emotional.

The maid worked in silence for a few moments before speaking again. “It’ll take some time to get this dress back to its former state, Your Highness. Would you like me to fetch a new gown or perhaps a bath to help you relax?”

You shook your head, the urgency of the situation driving your decision. “No, there’s no time for a bath. I need to change and get ready for the meeting. Just help me get into something presentable quickly.”

The maid nodded, understanding your urgency. “Of course, Princess. I’ll fetch something suitable for you to wear.”

You could hear Satoru’s voice echoing from outside your chambers, tinged with impatience. “Are you done yet? We’re already late. No amount of time will fix you, trust me.”

You rolled your eyes, exasperated by his usual sharpness. “I’m almost ready,” you called back, trying to keep your tone steady despite your growing frustration.

While she went to find a new dress, you started unfastening the torn gown with clumsy fingers, trying to ease the tangled fabric from your body. The act of undressing only heightened your frustration as the corset constricted your movements.

A few moments later, the maid returned with a more practical dress—simple but elegant, better suited to withstand a day of duties. You quickly changed into it, the soft fabric offering a slight relief from the tattered gown. As the maid adjusted the new dress and made minor adjustments, you took a deep breath, focusing on regaining your composure.

When she was done, you gave yourself one last look in the mirror. The new dress wasn’t as elaborate as the one you had worn, but it was clean and presentable. The dirt on your face had been cleaned away, but the fresh look only highlighted the fatigue and stress in your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said to the maid, your voice softer now, though still edged with the urgency of the situation.

“You’re welcome, Princess,” she replied with a sympathetic smile. “You look ready to face the council.”

As you opened the door to leave your chambers, you nearly bumped into Satoru, who was waiting just outside. His gaze quickly took in your new attire, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of relief and irritation.

“Finally,” he said, his tone betraying both exasperation and a touch of amusement. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

You frowned and glanced down at your dress, feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness. “Yes? What’s wrong with it?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you met his gaze.

Satoru’s expression remained neutral, but the slight smirk on his lips told a different story. “Nothing, it’s just that it’s a bit… plain. I expected something a bit more impressive.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your annoyance. “Isn’t the point to blend in rather than stand out? I’m not here to make a fashion statement.”

Satoru shrugged, his shoulders lifting slightly in a nonchalant manner. “Sure, blending in might be the goal. But if you want to make an impression—or avoid further criticism—maybe you should have gone for something with a bit more presence. This dress isn’t exactly going to win you any favors.”

You sighed, feeling the weight of his comment add to your already high stress levels. “Could you at least try to be supportive for once?” you muttered under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration.

Satoru’s eyes flickered with a hint of surprise, but his expression quickly hardened again. “I’m just trying to be honest. If you want to make an impact, you need to do more than just show up. And you know as well as I do that appearances matter.”

You shook your head, feeling your irritation boil over. “Right, because you’re such an expert on what’s appropriate for me. I’ll just add ‘fashion advisor’ to your list of duties.”

Satoru didn’t respond, his silence amplifying the tension between you. You both walked briskly down the corridor, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls. His presence, once comforting, now felt like an added burden.

The grand doors of the council chamber loomed ahead, their imposing presence adding to the weight of the moment. As you approached, you took a deep breath, doing your best to ignore the discomfort of the corset and the restrictive nature of your dress. The anticipation was palpable, the pressure of what was to come pressing down on you with each step.

When the doors swung open, a hush fell over the room. The council chamber, lined with ornate tapestries and heavy wooden furniture, was filled with nobles and advisors, all turned toward you with varying degrees of interest. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to thinly veiled judgment, and you could feel the scrutiny like a physical force.

You walked to the center of the room, determined to present yourself with confidence despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The head of the council, an elderly man with a sharp gaze and a graying beard, looked up from his seat. His eyes, though kind, held a hint of skepticism that made your heart race.

“Princess,” he began, his voice echoing through the chamber, “we were beginning to wonder if you would make it.”

You met his gaze steadily, trying to mask any hint of unease. “I’m here now,” you replied, your voice firm. “Let’s proceed.”

Satoru, who had followed closely behind you, positioned himself slightly to your side. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by a more serious expression, though his eyes never left you. The council members, who had been murmuring amongst themselves, fell silent, their eyes flicking between you and Satoru with varying degrees of curiosity and assessment.

Your father, seated among the council members, cast a critical eye over you as you entered the room. “Ah, Y/N,” he began with a forced cheerfulness, “Don‘t you look beautiful right now. Much better than you did in that torn dress, wouldn’t you agree, Satoru?”

You shot a brief, uncomfortable glance at your father, whose tendency to comment on your appearance and then seek Satoru’s validation always put you on edge. It was as though your father valued Satoru’s opinion more than your own, and it often left you feeling awkward.

Satoru, though he caught the underlying tension in the room, offered a polite smile. “Indeed, Your Highness,” he said smoothly. “Princess Y/N looks as perfect as ever.”

With a decisive clearing of his throat, the head of the council drew everyone’s attention. “Now that we’re all here, let us address the matter at hand.”

He looked directly at you, his expression serious. “Princess Y/N, as you know, our kingdom’s future stability hinges on more than just defending it from bandits or ensuring its safety. It is also crucial that you fulfill your duty to ensure the continuation of the royal bloodline.”

You braced yourself for what was coming next. The topic of your marriage had been an ever-present shadow, hovering over you for months. The weight of this responsibility felt like an anchor around your neck. Your role in finding a suitable match to ensure the survival of the royal bloodline was an expectation you could hardly escape

“The council has been discussing the urgency of securing an heir,” the head of the council continued. “It is imperative that you marry soon and produce an heir to continue the bloodline. The stability of our kingdom and the future of our dynasty depend on it.”

The room’s atmosphere grew heavy with the gravity of the statement. You could sense the murmurs of agreement from the council members, their eyes fixed on you, awaiting your response. Your father’s gaze was stern, a reminder of the familial and political pressure weighing on your shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, you faced the council head-on. “I understand the importance of securing an heir,” you said, your voice steady despite the pressure. “But can we not consider the urgency of finding the right partner rather than rushing into a marriage that may not be in the best interest of the kingdom?”

The head of the council’s eyebrows furrowed. “We’re not suggesting you act recklessly, Princess. However, the sooner you marry, the sooner we can ensure the future stability of the realm. Time is of the essence.”

Your father’s eyes softened slightly, though the firmness of his words remained. “Your duty to the kingdom requires you to balance personal desires with the needs of the state. It’s time to prioritize the future of our dynasty.”

The weight of their words pressed down on you, the realization of your role in the kingdom’s future becoming all too clear. You had always known the responsibilities of being a princess, but hearing it so directly was a stark reminder of the sacrifices and decisions that lay ahead.

As you tried to absorb the gravity of the situation, you could feel Satoru’s presence beside you, his gaze intense but unreadable. He said nothing, but his silence was a reminder of the support and understanding he offered, even in the midst of the council’s scrutiny.

The head of the council cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “To address the pressing matter of securing a suitable match for Princess Y/N, we propose hosting a grand ball. This will provide an opportunity for eligible suitors to present themselves, allowing the princess to meet potential candidates.”

The room filled with murmurs of agreement, and you could feel the weight of the suggestion settling heavily on your shoulders. A ball would not only thrust your personal life into the public eye but also place immense pressure on you to find a match quickly. The tension in the room was palpable, and you knew this was not just about finding a partner—it was about aligning with another royal family.

Your father nodded in approval. “Indeed, a ball will not only facilitate meeting potential suitors but also demonstrate our kingdom’s prosperity and strength. It’s a tradition that has proven effective in the past.”

You glanced at Satoru, who was standing beside you. His usual composure faltered for a moment as the council’s discussion turned more serious. When the head of the council said, “It is crucial that Princess Y/N marry a royal from a different family. This union will strengthen alliances and secure our kingdom’s position,” Satoru’s face twitched slightly.

A subtle cringe crossed his features, barely noticeable but unmistakable if you were paying close attention. His jaw tightened, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if trying to suppress his discomfort. The mention of marrying into another royal family seemed to hit him harder than he intended to let on.

The head of the council continued, oblivious to Satoru’s reaction, “The ball will ensure we find a suitable candidate who meets these requirements.”

You caught Satoru’s eye, and his expression was a mix of frustration and concern. He clenched his fists briefly before forcing his face back into a neutral mask. The hint of annoyance in his gaze, however, was hard to ignore.

Satoru’s frustration broke through as he spoke up, his voice laced with irritation. “A ball, really? Because nothing says ‘find a husband’ like parading the princess around like a trophy.”

The head of the council looked at Satoru, slightly taken aback. “It is a time-honored tradition, Sir Gojo. It’s the most effective way to ensure Princess Y/N meets candidates who are both capable and of high standing.”

You shot Satoru a sharp look and took a deep breath, trying to mask your unease. “I appreciate the council’s efforts,” you began, “but I must express my concerns. A ball feels like an imposition. I believe it’s important to take the time to thoroughly evaluate potential suitors, rather than making a decision based on a single evening.”

“We understand your concerns, Princess Y/N, but the ball will proceed as planned. It is essential to our kingdom’s future to marry into another royal family to solidify our position and forge necessary alliances.”

You tried to maintain your composure, but the weight of the council’s decision was heavy. “I understand the importance of finding a suitable match,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady. “But rushing this process doesn’t seem prudent. There must be another way to approach this without putting so much pressure on me.”

The council members exchanged glances, their murmurs now tinged with a mixture of agreement and dissent. Your father’s gaze softened slightly, but his determination remained firm. “The ball is a necessary step,” he said. “We need to move forward with it. The future of the kingdom depends on it.”

As the council turned to discuss the specifics of the ball—finalizing guest lists, drafting invitations, and other intricate details—you felt the enormity of the upcoming event pressing heavily on you. The realization that your personal life was being turned into a political spectacle was almost overwhelming. It was as if you were being reduced to a mere pawn in a game of alliances and power plays.

Satoru, standing slightly behind you, had retreated into a rare silence. His usual banter and teasing were absent, replaced by a tense stillness that was almost palpable. Though he didn’t speak, his presence provided a form of quiet support. His silence seemed to amplify the weight of the situation, a tacit acknowledgment of the immense pressure you were under.

You could feel his eyes occasionally flicking toward you, his concern evident despite his outward composure. The frustration he had shown earlier was now tempered with a more subdued, but no less intense, support. It was clear that he understood the gravity of the situation, even if he had struggled to express it earlier.

As you and Satoru exited the council chamber, the weight of the meeting pressed heavily on your shoulders. The grand ball was looming, and you were already dreading the upcoming spectacle.

Satoru, noticing your troubled demeanor, couldn't resist a bit of teasing. "So, how does it feel to be the center of attention for all the wrong reasons? I bet you're thrilled to be paraded around like a prize."

You shot him a sharp look, frustration bubbling up. "Oh, really? You think it's funny? I'm not exactly looking forward to being scrutinized by everyone."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not funny—just the reality. You should embrace it. Think of it as a chance to show off those 'charming' qualities they're so eager to see."

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the sting of his words. "Charming qualities, huh? Like my ability to endure endless scrutiny and put on a perfect smile?"

"Exactly," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "If anyone can pull this off, it's you. Just try not to let them see how much you're actually dreading it. It'll be more fun for everyone that way."

You couldn't help but let out a short, exasperated laugh. "Well, thanks for the pep talk. I'm sure it'll make the experience so much more bearable."

Satoru's grin widened. "Anytime. And don't worry, I'm sure the men will be falling over themselves to meet you. After all, you're not just a princess—you're the princess who's about to make their lives infinitely more complicated."

You shook your head, unable to stifle a small smile despite the tension. "You really know how to make a difficult situation seem even more unbearable."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? It's a talent. But seriously, if you need someone to help you navigate this circus, you know where to find me."

You nodded, appreciating the rare moment of genuine support behind his teasing exterior. "I'll keep that in mind. And try not to be annoying in the meantime."

Satoru chuckled as you walked side by side down the corridor. "I promise nothing."

As you and Satoru continued down the corridor, the tension from the council meeting lingered, but there was a subtle shift in the air between you. His presence, as infuriating as it could be, was also oddly comforting. You walked in silence for a while, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

Just as you were about to comment on the absurdity of the situation, a young maiden stepped into your path. She was one of the palace servants, her simple dress and demure posture marking her as such, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes as she looked up at Satoru.

"Sir Gojo," she greeted with a soft smile, her voice lilting with a hint of flirtation. "It's been a while since I've seen you around. I was beginning to think you were avoiding us poor maidens."

Satoru stopped in his tracks, and you noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor—a playful smirk tugged at his lips, and his usual nonchalance morphed into something a bit more charming. "Avoiding you? Now, why would I do that?" he replied, his voice dropping into a smooth, flirtatious tone that made your eyes involuntarily roll.

The maiden giggled softly, her cheeks flushing as she glanced up at him through her lashes. "Well, with all your duties, I thought maybe you'd forgotten about us."

Satoru leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Forgotten? Not a chance. It's hard to forget someone as lovely as you."

You watched the exchange with a mixture of amusement and annoyance, unsure whether to be irritated by his shameless flirting or impressed by how easily he slipped into this role. Satoru had always been good at charming those around him, but seeing it in action, especially now, was a reminder of how effortless it was for him to play this game.

The maiden blushed deeper, clearly taken by his attention. "You're too kind, Sir Gojo. Perhaps we could catch up later, if your duties allow?"

"Perhaps," Satoru replied, his tone light. "Though I can't promise I'll be able to stay away from you for too long."

You crossed your arms, feeling the need to interrupt before this flirtation dragged on any longer. "Satoru, we don't have all day. Or have you forgotten about the ball preparations already?"

He glanced at you, an eyebrow raised, but the smirk never left his face. "I haven't forgotten. But it wouldn't hurt to take a break every now and then, would it?"

"Not when there's work to be done," you shot back, your voice tinged with impatience.

The maiden, sensing the shift in mood, quickly curtsied to both of you. "Of course, Your Highness. Sir Gojo. I won't keep you any longer." She gave Satoru one last smile before slipping away down the corridor, leaving the two of you alone once more.

Satoru watched her go for a moment before turning back to you, his expression still annoyingly amused. "Jealous, are we?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes again. "Hardly. But if you're going to waste time flirting with every maiden who crosses your path, maybe I should find someone more focused to help me."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax, Y/N. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone. Besides, I'm more than capable of multitasking."

"Maybe," you conceded, starting to walk again. "But if you keep this up—."

Satoru fell into step beside you, his usual playful demeanor intact. "Don't worry, Princess. I'm not about to let anyone else steal your attention—not before I've had my fun."

You couldn't help but shake your head at his words, a small smile creeping onto your lips despite yourself. "You really are impossible, Satoru."

"And yet, you keep me around," he quipped, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I must be doing something right."

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. Satoru's presence, frustrating as it could be, was something you'd come to rely on.

But as you continued walking side by side, the playful banter that usually filled the space between you did little to ease the underlying tension. His flirtation with the maid had struck a chord, one that resonated deeper than you'd expected. You stole a glance at him, trying to gauge his reaction, but he appeared perfectly at ease, as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

You quickened your pace slightly, as if the physical distance could help you escape the thoughts swirling in your mind. The jealousy you felt was an unwelcome intruder, one you tried to dismiss as irrational. After all, this was just how Satoru was—charming, flirtatious, and completely at ease with everyone. You were used to it by now, you told yourself. It shouldn't bother you.

Yet, no matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the feeling lingered, gnawing at the edges of your composure. Satoru, of course, kept pace effortlessly, his lighthearted demeanor seemingly unaffected by your sudden change in mood. It was as if he hadn't noticed the shift at all—or worse, that he had noticed and simply didn't care.

"So," you began, trying to keep your tone neutral, "How many more maidens do you plan on charming today?"

Satoru glanced at you, his blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "Should I be flattered that you're paying such close attention to it now?"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm just wondering how you manage to get anything done when you spend half your time flirting."

He let out a soft laugh, tilting his head slightly as if in thought. "You heard her—I haven't been with any maidens for a while, so I'm clearly not spending half my time flirting. But now that you mention it, maybe I should change that. That maiden did seem quite lovely, didn't she?"

Satoru's words struck a nerve, and you felt a flare of irritation rise within you. He said it so casually, as if it didn't matter at all, as if he could just switch his attention from one person to the next without a second thought.

"Oh, really?" you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady but failing to mask the edge of jealousy creeping in. "Well, don't let me stop you. I'm sure the maids would love to have your undivided attention."

He tilted his head, his grin widening as he took in your reaction. "Why, Princess, you almost sound jealous. Could it be that you're not as indifferent as you pretend to be?"

You rolled your eyes, your arms still crossed defensively. "Jealous? Hardly. I just don't see why you have to be such a... a manwhore about it."

You continued,"I just find it amusing how you spread your charm so thin. You must be exhausted, keeping up that act all the time."

His smile widened, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he saw right through your attempt to deflect. "It's not an act, Princess. I'm just naturally charming. Besides, it's harmless fun. You know you're the only one who gets under my skin."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you quickly masked it with a sarcastic retort. "Oh, lucky me. I'm the one who gets the full brunt of your insufferable personality. How special."

Satoru chuckled, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary. "You are special. But I wouldn't expect you to admit that."

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your chest. "Stop flattering yourself, Satoru. It's unbecoming."

He laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "I'm not flattering myself. Just stating the obvious. But if it bothers you so much, I can tone it down—at least when you're around."

You frowned, hating how he always seemed to turn the tables on you. "It's not that it bothers me. I'm just curious how you manage to stay focused on anything serious when you're so easily sidetracked by a pretty face."

Satoru stopped walking, turning to face you with a serious expression. "Y/N, I've never been distracted when it comes to you. Not once. And you know you're pretty."

He chuckled, adding, "But of course, I get distracted by beauty sometimes. After all, I'm still a man with needs." His eyes lingered on you, hinting that his distraction wasn't just about any beauty—it was something more personal.

His words hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications. For a moment, you were caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze, realizing that his distraction might sometimes be directed toward you. The weight of his gaze made you uneasy, as if he had just hinted at something deeper.

Then, just as quickly, he broke the tension with a grin, letting the moment slip away as easily as it had come.

"Anyway," he said lightly, "don't worry about the maids. They're nice and all, but none of them keep me on my toes like you do."

You shook your head.

Later that evening, after the council meeting and the unsettling conversation with Satoru, you found yourself alone in your chambers. The grand ball was only a few days away, and the weight of the decisions that lay ahead bore down on you like a leaden cloak. The pressure to secure a politically advantageous marriage, the expectations of your father and the council, and the unresolved tension with Satoru—it all swirled in your mind like a storm that wouldn't abate.

You wandered over to the large window at the far end of your room, pushing the heavy drapes aside. The evening sky was a deep shade of indigo, with the first stars beginning to twinkle faintly. The palace grounds stretched out beneath you, the manicured gardens and courtyards bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Beyond the walls, you could see the distant lights of the town, a reminder of the world that awaited you outside these stone confines.

Leaning against the window frame, you let out a sigh, your breath fogging the glass slightly. The cool night air felt soothing against your skin, a welcome contrast to the oppressive heat of the day's events. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to gather your thoughts, but they were as elusive as the wind.

Your gaze drifted over the familiar landscape, your thoughts turning inward. You'd always loved this view—the way the palace seemed to stand as a fortress against the world, offering a sense of security. But tonight, it felt more like a cage. The walls that had once protected you now felt like barriers, keeping you from the freedom you craved.

You thought of the upcoming ball, of the parade of noblemen who would try to win your favor, each one a potential suitor with his own agenda. The idea of marrying into another royal family, of becoming someone's pawn in a political game, filled you with a deep sense of dread. You'd always known that this was your destiny, that as a princess, your life was not entirely your own. But knowing didn't make it any easier to accept.

And then there was Satoru. His words from earlier still echoed in your mind, his teasing and flirtation tinged with an undercurrent of something more. You had known each other since childhood, and his presence in your life had always been a constant. But lately, things had shifted between you, the lines between friendship and something more blurring in ways that left you feeling off-balance.

The thought of Satoru made your chest tighten, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within you. He was infuriating, insufferable even, but there was no denying the connection you shared. The way he could make you laugh, even when you wanted to strangle him, the way he seemed to understand you in a way no one else did—it was all so complicated. And the jealousy you'd felt earlier, seeing him flirt so easily with the maid, had caught you off guard, forcing you to confront feelings you'd been trying to ignore.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. This was no time for distractions. You had to focus on what lay ahead, on the decisions that would shape not only your future but the future of the kingdom. Yet, as you stood there, looking out at the world beyond the palace walls, you couldn't help but wish for a different life—one where you had the freedom to choose your own path, to follow your heart instead of your duty.

But that was a fantasy, one that had no place in the reality you faced. With a resigned sigh, you turned away from the window, the cool air brushing against your skin like a fleeting promise of the freedom you could never truly have.

Just as you turned away from the window, lost in your thoughts, the door to your chambers creaked open. You glanced up, startled, to see Satoru stepping inside without so much as a knock. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by a more serious expression that caught you off guard.

"Satoru," you began, but he raised a hand to stop you, his eyes scanning the room before settling on you.

"You were thinking too hard, I could hear you from my room" he said, his tone half-joking, half-concerned as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest.

You gave him a tired look, your earlier frustration with him simmering just beneath the surface. "Do you ever knock?"

He shrugged, completely unfazed. "Where's the fun in that? Besides, I figured you could use the company."

You sighed, turning your gaze back to the window, though you were acutely aware of his presence just a few steps away. "I'm not in the mood for your teasing tonight, Satoru."

For a moment, he said nothing, and you almost thought he'd left. But then you heard his footsteps, soft on the thick carpet, as he moved closer. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more serious than you were used to from him.

"Alright, no more jokes," he said. "You seem to be carrying a lot. What's going on?" His unexpected sincerity made you glance at him. He stood beside you, looking out at the same view you had been absorbed in moments before.

"Why are you here, Satoru?" you asked quietly, your exhaustion evident in your voice.

He didn't answer immediately, his blue eyes scanning the emerging stars. "I'm not sure," he finally admitted, his tone unusually candid. "Maybe because I care."

You gave a tired chuckle, the edge of your frustration softening. "Wow, Gojo Satoru cares? That's new."

He looked at you, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I might surprise you sometimes."

You shook your head, a wry smile forming on your lips despite yourself. "Is this one of those rare moments?"

"Maybe," he replied with a playful glint in his eye. "Or maybe I just know when someone I care about is struggling."

You felt a flicker of warmth at his words, but you quickly suppressed it, reminding yourself that this was Satoru—the same infuriating man who'd spent the day flirting with maids and poking fun at you.

"You don't have to worry about me," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," he replied, his gaze finally shifting from the window to you. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop caring or offering support. Sometimes, it's the least I can do."

You studied his face, trying to reconcile this unexpected display of concern with the Satoru you were used to. The genuine look in his eyes was at odds with his usual playful demeanor, and it made you feel vulnerable.

"This is all just... politics," you said, trying to sound dismissive. "I'll go to the ball, meet the suitors, and do what's expected of me. It's what I've been trained for, after all."

Satoru's expression darkened slightly, and you noticed his hands clenching at his sides. "And that's it? You're just going to do what they tell you, marry some royal from another family because it's what's 'expected'?"

The edge in his voice surprised you, but you refused to let it sway you. "That's what being a princess is, Satoru. It's about duty, about sacrifice."

He took a step closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the small space between you. "And what about what you want? What about your happiness?"

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "What I want doesn't matter," you said, more harshly than you intended. "This isn't about me."

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between you almost unbearable. Then Satoru sighed,"You're always doing this," he muttered, half to himself.

"Doing what?" you demanded, crossing your arms defensively.

Satoru's frustration was palpable as he ran a hand through his hair. "You put everyone else first, always sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of duty."

His words hit harder than you expected. "What do you know about it, Satoru?" you retorted. "You're not the one expected to marry for political gain. You don't have to choose between what's right for the kingdom and what's right for yourself."

Satoru's gaze was intense, his voice low but steady. "Maybe I don't, but I know you're more than just a pawn in this game. You deserve to have a say in your own life."

You shook your head, feeling a mix of anger and sorrow. "I've accepted my role. It's my responsibility."

Satoru stepped even closer, his voice softening. "But does that mean you have to resign yourself to a future you don't want? I know you feel trapped, but you can still fight for what you want."

For a moment, the room was heavy with silence, the tension thickening the air. You looked away,"It's not that simple," you said, your voice trembling. "There are consequences I can't ignore."

Satoru's eyes were soft with concern. "What consequences?"

You let out a shaky breath, your thoughts turning to the day's events. "You saw what happened today when I defied my father and went into the forest instead of attending the council meeting. He was furious. I need to do better, follow the rules."

You turned to him, feeling a surge of frustration.

"You even told me to stop being reckless, saying, 'One day your luck will run out and no one will be there to save you.' Remember? So why are you suddenly against me acting like a princess? What changed?"

Satoru's expression softened, his gaze searching yours. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated, the weight of his own words clearly affecting him.

He looked at you. "Just please be yourself," he said earnestly. "I don't mind if you're reckless or if you make mistakes. I just don't want to see you lose who you are trying to fit into a mold that's not you."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. "It's not that simple, Satoru."

He shook his head gently. "I know it's not easy, but you're stronger than you think. And whatever happens, I'll be here for you."

The sincerity in his voice was comforting, and you allowed yourself a moment of respite from your worries. "Thank you, Satoru. I appreciate it."

He gave a playful shrug, the familiar smirk returning. "Don't mention it. Besides, it's not every day I get to be the serious one. I'm kind of enjoying it."

A genuine laugh escaped you, the tension easing just a bit. "Don't get used to it."

"Whatever you say, Princess," he said, his voice light again, though you could see the shadow in his eyes. "Just remember, I'll be there at that ball. And I'll be watching."

You forced a smile in return, though it didn't reach your eyes. "Good. Maybe you can keep me entertained while I'm paraded around."

He laughed, the sound almost normal, but as he turned to leave, you couldn't shake the feeling that something important had just been left unsaid.

As the door closed behind him, you were left alone once more, staring at the spot where he'd stood, your thoughts more tangled than ever.

Whatever you were feeling, it didn't matter. Satoru was your childhood friend, someone who had always been there, someone you could rely on. He was insufferable, always flirting and teasing, but that was just who he was. There was nothing more to it, nothing more to analyze.

banner art belongs to _3aem

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mxtxfanatic · 3 months ago

Text

What finally pushes Wei Wuxian into a qi deviation isn’t the fact that Jiang Cheng showed up to hate-crime him and Lan Wangji, but the fact that Wei Wuxian showed up with the best of intentions—informing his dead guardians of his intentions to marry—just to be goaded into attacking their son in front of their tablets, the highest form of disrespect he could’ve performed in front of them. That Jiang Cheng could drag him down to such a level as to engage in something so disrespectful when Wei Wuxian showed up specifically to pay his respects is why it should not surprise anyone that Wei Wuxian’s last thoughts on Lotus Pier is that he wants to leave and never return:

It was only proper to show respect for the deceased. After all, they were at an ancestral hall.

...

Jiang Cheng was exactly who Wei WuXian had wanted to avoid; the last person he wanted to be seen by. Now that Jiang Cheng had found him, he knew he probably couldn’t escape fast enough without having harsh words flung his way. Wei WuXian didn’t want to start any unnecessary conflict, so he said, “I didn’t bring HanGuang-Jun anywhere that contained the Lotus Pier’s secrets. I’m just here to offer a few incense sticks to Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu. We are just leaving.”

—Chapt. 87: Core (Part 9), boat-full-of-lotus-pods

He turned to Jiang Cheng and said, “Jiang Cheng, listen to yourself. Do you even hear what you’re saying? Don’t forget who you are. You’re the leader of a sect. To insult a fellow cultivator from one of the Four Great Sects in front of Uncle Jiang and everyone’s memorial tablets. Where are your manners?”

...

All three of them had weapons out in front of the ancestral hall now. Jiang Cheng’s eyes were bloodshot as he snarled, “Fine! If you want a fight, then let’s fight! You think I’m afraid of you two?!” But just a few strikes later, Wei WuXian remembered, startled, that they stood before the ancestral hall of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. He had only just knelt and prayed in front of Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu for their protection a few moments ago. And now he was attacking their son with Lan WangJi right under their nose! As if a bucket of cold water had just been dumped over him, suddenly, spots appeared in front of Wei WuXian’s eyes and his vision darkened.

...

Wei WuXian did not answer him. Instead, he said, “Lan Zhan...... Let’s go.” Immediately. And never come back.

—Chapt. 88: Core (Part 10), boat-full-of-lotus-pods

Tellingly enough, Jiang Cheng does not hold the same sense of shame in the fact that he instigated a physical fight in the resting place of his ancestors nor that his intentions weren't to maintain decorum when he followed wangxian into the ancestral hall to begin with. In fact, he is fueled by rage to the point of irrationality before he even steps foot into the ancestral hall, so much so that he cannot even accept wangxian disengaging from the fight and attempting to leave on their own:

All the signs pointed to the same conclusion—there was now something more between Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. Unable to make himself turn away or step forward to speak to them, Jiang Cheng had concealed himself and followed after them, reinterpreting their every exchange and gesture through a coloured lens. Feelings of disbelief, strangeness, and slight, mild disgust had momentarily been enough to overcome Jiang Cheng’s hatred. It was only when Wei WuXian had brought Lan WangJi into the ancestral hall that Jiang Cheng’s anger reawakened. The repressed, overwhelming rage consumed his rationality and manners.

...

Lan WangJi harbored no more desire to continue the fight with Jiang Cheng. Wordlessly, he pulled Wei WuXian onto his back and turned to leave. Jiang Cheng was plagued by alarm and suspicion. He was alarmed by the terrifying sight of blood suddenly oozing out of Wei WuXian’s qiqiao. Yet he was suspicious of whether the man was faking it for an excuse to run away. After all, it was a prank that Wei WuXian had pulled quite often in the past. At the sight of the two men leaving, Jiang Cheng called, “Stop!”

—Chapt. 88: Core (Part 10), boat-full-of-lotus-pods

#mdzs #jiang cheng #canon jiang cheng #human metas mxtx #it's actually funny in a sad sort of way how many times this section stresses #just how important and sacred the ancestral hall is #that it is a place of peace and tranquility that must be respected #just for fandom to come in and say that jc running loose at the mouth in front of his parents' tablet is A-ok #because being gay in front of dead people is the highest level of disrespect #higher than insulting your allies and respected individuals in front of those same dead people #higher than hate-criming someone #but hey what do i know? not like it's in the book how important this place is or whatever

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

Text

Circular battery self-sufficiency

I'm coming to DEFCON! On FRIDAY (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On SATURDAY (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

If we are going to survive the climate emergency, we will have to electrify – that is, transition from burning fossil fuels to collecting, storing, transmitting and using renewable energy generated by e.g. the tides, the wind, and (especially) the Sun.

Electrification is a big project, but it's not an insurmountable one. Planning and executing an electric future is like eating the elephant: we do it one step at a time. This is characteristic of big engineering projects, which explains why so many people find it hard to imagine pulling this off.

As a layperson, you are far more likely to be exposed to a work of popular science than you are a work of popular engineering. Pop science is great, but its role is to familiarize you with theory, not practice. Popular engineering is a minuscule and obscure genre, which is a pity, because it's one of my favorites.

Weathering the climate emergency is going to require a lot of politics, to be sure, but it's also going to require a lot of engineering, which is why I'm grateful for the nascent but vital (and growing) field of popular engineering. Not to mention, the practitioners of popular engineering tend to be a lot of fun, like the hosts of the Well That's Your Problem podcast, a superb long-form leftist podcast about engineering disasters (with slides!):

https://www.youtube.com/@welltheresyourproblempodca1465

If you want to get started on popular engineering and the climate, your first stop should be the "Without the Hot Air" series, which tackles sustainable energy, materials, transportation and food as engineering problems. You'll never think about climate the same way again:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/06/methane-diet/#3kg-per-day

Then there's Saul Griffith's 2021 book Electrify, which is basically a roadmap for carrying out the electrification of America and the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/09/practical-visionary/#popular-engineering

Griffith's book is inspiring and visionary, but to really get a sense of how fantastic an electrified world can be, it's gotta be Deb Chachra's How Infrastructure Works:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/17/care-work/#charismatic-megaprojects

Chachra is a material scientist who teaches at Olin College, and her book is a hymn to the historical and philosophical underpinnings of infrastructure, but more than anything, it's a popular engineering book about what is possible. For example, if we want to give every person on Earth the energy budget of a Canadian (like an American, but colder), we would only have to capture 0.4% of the solar energy that reaches the Earth's surface.

Now, this is a gigantic task, but it's a tractable one. Resolving it will require a very careful – and massive – marshaling of materials, particularly copper, but also a large number of conflict minerals and rare earths. It's gonna be hard.

But it's not impossible, let alone inconceivable. Indeed, Chachra's biggest contribution in this book is to make a compelling case for reconceiving our relationship to energy and materials. As a species, we have always treated energy as scarce, trying to wring every erg and therm that we can out of our energy sources. Meanwhile, we've treated materials as abundant, digging them up or chopping them down, using them briefly, then tossing them on a midden or burying them in a pit.

Chachra argues that this is precisely backwards. Our planet gets a fresh supply of energy twice a day, with sunrise (solar) and moonrise (tides). On the other hand, we've only got one Earth's worth of materials, supplemented very sporadically when a meteor survives entry into our atmosphere. Mining asteroids, the Moon and other planets is a losing proposition for the long foreseeable future:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

The promise of marshaling a very large amount of materials is that it will deliver effectively limitless, clean energy. This project will take a lot of time and its benefits will primarily accrue to people who come after its builders, which is why it is infrastructure. As Chachra says, infrastructure is inherently altruistic, a gift to our neighbors and our descendants. If all you want is a place to stick your own poop, you don't need to build a citywide sanitation system.

What's more, we can trade energy for materials. Manufacturing goods so that they gracefully decompose back into the material stream at the end of their lives is energy intensive. Harvesting materials from badly designed goods is also energy intensive. But if once we build out the renewables grid (which will take a lot of materials), we will have all the energy we need (to preserve and re-use our materials).

Our species' historical approach to materials is not (ahem) carved in stone. It is contingent. It has changed. It can change again. It needs to change, because the way we extract materials today is both unjust and unsustainable.

The horrific nature of material extraction under capitalism – and its geopolitics (e.g. "We will coup whoever we want! Deal with it.") – has many made comrades in the climate fight skeptical (or worse, cynical) about a clean energy transition. They do the back-of-the-envelope math about the material budget for electrification, mentally convert that to the number of wildlife preserves, low-income communities, unspoiled habitat and indigenous lands that we would destroy in the process of gathering those materials, and conclude that the whole thing is a farce.

That analysis is important, but it's incomplete. Yes, marshaling all those materials in the way that we do today would be catastrophic. But the point of a climate transition is that we will transition our approach to our planet, our energy, and our materials. That transition can and should challenge all the assumptions underpinning electrification doomerism.

Take the material bill itself: the assumption that a transition will require a linearly scaled quantity of materials includes the assumption that cleantech won't find substantial efficiencies in its material usage. Thankfully, that's a very bad assumption! Cleantech is just getting started. It's at the stage where we're still uncovering massive improvements to production (unlike fossil fuel technology, whose available efficiencies have been discovered and exploited, so that progress is glacial and negligible).

Take copper: electrification requires a lot of copper. But the amount of copper needed for each part of the cleantech revolution is declining faster than the demand for cleantech is rising. Just one example: between the first and second iteration of the Rivian electric vehicle, designers figured out how to remove 1.6 miles of copper wire from each vehicle:

https://insideevs.com/news/722265/rivian-r1s-r1t-wiring/

That's just one iteration and one technology! And yeah, EVs are only peripheral to a cleantech transition; for one thing, geometry hates cars. We're going to have to build a lot of mass transit, and we're going to be realizing these efficiencies with every generation of train, bus, and tram:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/29/geometry-hates-uber/#toronto-the-gullible

We have just lived through a massive surge in electrification, with unimaginable quantities of new renewables coming online and a stunning replacement of conventional vehicles with EVs, and throughout that surge, demand for copper remained flat:

https://www.chemanalyst.com/NewsAndDeals/NewsDetails/copper-wire-price-remains-stable-amidst-surplus-supply-and-expanding-mining-25416#:~:text=Global%20Copper%20wire%20Price%20Remains%20Stable%20Amidst%20Surplus%20Supply%20and%20Expanding%20Mining%20Activities

This isn't to say that cleantech is a solved problem. There are many political aspects to cleantech that remain pernicious, like the fact that so many of the cleantech offerings on the market are built around extractive financial arrangements (like lease-back rooftop solar) and "smart" appliances (like heat pumps and induction tops) that require enshittification-ready apps:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/26/unplanned-obsolescence/#better-micetraps

There's a quiet struggle going on between cleantech efficiencies and the finance sector's predation, from lease-back to apps to the carbon-credit scam, but many of those conflicts are cashing out in favor of a sustainable future and it doesn't help our cause to ignore those: we should be cheering them on!

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/12/s-curve/#anything-that-cant-go-on-forever-eventually-stops

Take "innovation." Silicon Valley's string of pump-and-dump nonsense – cryptocurrency, NFTs, metaverse, web3, and now AI – have made "innovation" into a dirty word. As the AI bubble bursts, the very idea of innovation is turning into a punchline:

https://www.wheresyoured.at/burst-damage/

But cleantech is excitingly, wonderfully innovative. The contrast between the fake innovation of Silicon Valley and the real – and vital – innovation of cleantech couldn't be starker, or more inspiring:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/30/posiwid/#social-cost-of-carbon

Like the "battery problem." Whenever the renewables future is raised, there's always a doomer insisting that batteries are an unsolved – and unsolvable – problem, and without massive batteries, there's no sense in trying, because the public won't accept brownouts when the sun goes down and the wind stops blowing.

Sometimes, these people are shilling boondoggles like nuclear power (reminder: this is Hiroshima Day):

https://theconversation.com/dutton-wants-australia-to-join-the-nuclear-renaissance-but-this-dream-has-failed-before-209584

Other times, they're just trying to foreclose on the conversation about a renewables transition altogether. But sometimes, these doubts are raised by comrades who really do want a transition and have serious questions about power storage.

If you're one of those people, I have some very good news: battery tech is taking off. Some of that takes the form of wild and cool new approaches. In Finland, a Scottish company is converting a disused copper mine into a gravity battery. During the day, excess renewables hoist a platform piled with tons of rock up a 530m shaft. At night, the platform lowers slowly, driving a turbine and releasing its potential energy. This is incredibly efficient, has a tiny (and sustainable) bill of materials, and it's highly replicable. The world has sufficient abandoned mine-shafts to store 70TWh of power – that's the daily energy budget for the entire planet. What's more, every mine shaft has a beefy connection to the power grid, because you can't run a mine without a lot of power:

https://www.euronews.com/green/2024/02/06/this-disused-mine-in-finland-is-being-turned-into-a-gravity-battery-to-store-renewable-ene

Gravity batteries are great for utility-scale storage, but we also need a lot of batteries for things that we can't keep plugged into the wall, like vehicles, personal electronics, etc. There's great news on that score, too! "The Battery Mineral Loop" is a new report from the Rocky Mountain Institute that describes the path to "circular battery self-sufficiency":

https://rmi.org/wp-content/uploads/dlm_uploads/2024/07/the_battery_mineral_loop_report_July.pdf

The big idea: rather than digging up new minerals to make batteries, we can recycle minerals from dead batteries to make new ones. Remember, energy can be traded for materials: we can expend more energy on designs that are optimized to decompose back into their component materials, or we can expend more energy extracting materials from designs that aren't optimized for recycling.

Both things are already happening. From the executive summary:

The chemistry of batteries is rapidly improving: over the past decade, we've reduced per-using demand for lithium, nickle and cobalt by 60-140%, and most lithium batteries are being recycled, not landfilled.

Within a decade, we'll hit peak mineral demand for batteries. By the mid-2030s, the amount of new "virgin minerals" needed to meet our battery demand will stop growing and start declining.

By 2050, we could attain net zero mineral demand for batteries: that is, we could meet all our energy storage needs without digging up any more minerals.

We are on a path to a "one-off" extraction effort. We can already build batteries that work for 10-15 years and whose materials can be recycled with 90-94% efficiency.

The total quantity of minerals we need to extract to permanently satisfy the world's energy storage needs is about 125m tons.

This last point is the one that caught my eye. Extracting 125m tons of anything is a tall order, and depending on how it's done, it could wreak a terrible toll on people and the places they live.

But one question I learned to ask from Tim Harford and BBC More Or Less is "is that a big number?" 125m tons sure feels like a large number, but it is one seventeenth of the amount of fossil fuels we dig up every year just for road transport. In other words, we're talking about spending the next thirty years carefully, sustainably, humanely extracting about 5.8% of the materials we currently pump and dig every year for our cars. Do that, and we satisfy our battery needs more-or-less forever.

This is a big engineering project. We've done those before. Crisscrossing the world with roads, supplying billions of fossil-fuel vehicles, building the infrastructure for refueling them, pumping billions of gallons of oil – all of that was done in living memory. As Robin Sloan wrote:

Did people say, at the dawn of the automobile: are you kidding me? This technology will require a ubiquitous network of refueling stations, one or two at every major intersection … even if there WAS that much gas in the world, how would you move it around at that scale? If everybody buys a car, you’ll need to build highways, HUGE ones — you’ll need to dig up cities! Madness!

https://www.robinsloan.com/newsletters/room-for-everybody/

That big project cost trillions and required bending the productive capacity of many nations to its completion. It produced a ghastly geopolitics that elevated petrostates – a hole in the ground, surrounded by guns – to kingmakers whose autocrats can knock the world on its ass at will.

By contrast, this giant engineering project is relatively modest, and it will upend that global order, yielding energy sovereignty (and its handmaiden, national resliency) to every country on Earth. Doing it well will be hard, and require that we rethink our relationship to energy and materials, but that's a bonus, not a cost. Changing how we use materials and energy will make all our lives better, it will improve the lives of the living things we share the planet with, and it will strip the monsters who currently control our energy supply of their political, economic, and electric power.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/06/with-great-power/#comes-great-responsibility

#pluralistic #debcha #solarpunk #energy #cleantech #bill mckibben #material science #promethean climate transition #rocky mountain institute #battery mineral loop #climate #environment #peak minerals

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