In y/n’s part: Child abuse, spanking; not in a good way, subjection to a brothel worker while she’s still 17, stds mentioned, her mother’s abuse, she gets jealous over a doll. Satoru’s: Child abuse again, underaged drinking, drug use, he uses others for sex, he’s bad at feelings, he spirals throughout his section, pedophilia from his father, his mother’s toxic. Suguru’s: Child abuse, his attendants treat him like a girl, he’s subjected to nothing but a doll, his stepmother is her own warning, he uses pretty privilege to get what he wants.
Not as serious warning, but not proofread well, and possible spelling errors
Also, in Suguru’s part he’s cross dressed. Nothing wrong with that, but it relates to his abuse.
That’s about it, see yuh (Enjoy!!)
“You’re playing your notes wrong.” The mistress grumbled before her stick met your arms.
You winced, your teeth gritting and you fingers digging into your erhu tightly. You shut your eyes, trying to swallow your pain.
She stares down at you, as your grip on the instrument lightens.
“Pay attention, and try again.”
Ever since Xiuying came to take you back from Haoyu, she’s been training you to become as amazing as a courtesan your mother was.
She circles you like a hawk as she watches you. You grip the instrument tightly before you begin again.
You’re half focused on the notes. A song about love and longing, the opposite of this house.
You might be grown, you turned seventeen a week ago.
She wasted no time returning to Haoyu’s pharmacy to return you to the brothel.
Ever since your return, she’s been putting you to work.
For the weeks of your return she’s had you working on this foreign instrument. It didn’t matter to her that you were more familiar with plants and medicines…
You slip a note, and before you can even try and correct it her stick meets you again.
“Y/N, pay attention.” She raises her voice, pulling back her stick with the same quickness she had when she slammed in down.
You don’t even try and downplay the pain, you went straight back to playing.
At least six hits and her voice getting louder and directly in your ear later, you finally perfected the song.
“You have your rough spots, but you’re a quick learner, Y/N.” She comments as she grabs the music and the erhu.
You sigh as she takes them away, relief washing over you. But your relief is short lived as you watch the bow slam down on the table.
“Saying thank you, should be another thing you learn quickly.” She informs you, glaring down.
You stare back at her before smiling, “Thank you, Mistress.” You say with a smile as she walks away.
Once she’s turned her back you drop your smile, looking down at your hands as you sit silently.
“Oh, Y/N before I forget…” Her voice comes from the closet as she’s putting the things away. “You need to take care of your mother.”
Your hands freeze up, and you turn to her with widen eyes. “I’m sorry?”
“Haoyu is gone, something about his shop. And you’re the only qualified girl.” She states, matter of factly before she walks to the register to see how much was earned for the week.
You glare at the back of her head before you scoff. Standing up to head to the medicine cabinet.
You grab the medicine she needed before heading to the back of the house.
You slip into her small shack attached to the brothel. You walk down the hall for a bit before you turn into her room.
Long windows shine into the room, the colored glass makes it see as though the room is a light pinkish.
She’s on her back, staring up at the ceiling before she turns to the door.
She locks eyes with you and her sickly expression changes into a scowl.
“You…disgusting little girl.” She starts up, as you walk into the room and closer to her.
You don’t respond. You only set down the tray on the bedside table and sit down next to the bed.
You grab at the medicine on the tray and turn to her. She’s already looking at you with a glare.
You gesture it towards her. She scoffs and slaps at your hand. Thankfully it doesn’t spill, but she does get your hand good.
You sigh and glare at her. “You’re sick, you need your medicine.”
“Then I can feed myself.” She mutters, grabbing at it and feeding it to herself.
She tossed the cup towards you. You glare at her before grabbing it and setting it back on the tray.
She turns and looks out the window. You grab the tray. You’re cleaning up when you hear her shuffling.
You turn to see her holding a small doll. You stare at it before setting the tray down and walking to her.
She turns her gaze to you with a glare. She holds the doll tightly to her chest.
“Where did you get that?” You asked.
She stops her glare and looks down at the doll.
A soft smile spreads across her face, “Her? You say that as if she’s a thing…” She says with a chuckle.
Her arms wrap around the doll as if it was a fetus. “This is my baby girl.” She says with a soft smile and grin.
You feel your world fall apart a bit. Her baby? A stupid doll. A doll that she dint even give birth to…your stupid doll.
“…Your baby?” You ask, staring at the doll from your childhood.
“Yes. She’s beautiful isn’t she?” L/N says with a smile as she gently rocks the doll. “It’s like my world was dark, and now that she’s here everything’s light.” She adds.
Your fists clench at your sides. It was embarrassing to say, but you were jealous of a doll.
A piece of cloth with Cotten on the inside, buttons for eyes, and horse hair for its long hair.
You’ve been stuck with her your whole life’s. She’s been with you for seventeen years…you were more trapped than her, yet she made it obvious you never had room in her heart for her.
Yet the one thing that could wasn’t her losing the edge and hate she had for you, it was a doll. An attachment from you, your old doll.
She couldn’t love you so she went for a toy.
You know you were being immature. She forgotten most and due to her illness, but you still felt like you had a right to be angry that she loved a doll more than her daughter…
You stare at her as she nurses the doll before you decide to leave.
It keeps you up a bit that night. Waking up late and the madam having a punishment waiting just for you.
She has you practicing that damned instrument to perfection, till the day ends.
Paper work greets him in the morning. By noon lessons welcome him with opens arms. At night a suffocating dinner with his mother and father greet him. Then night softly hugs him.
The quiet, downtime he tries to take in tiny bits. But he’s always so exhausted he’s knocked out and morning comes again.
If he actually got to stay up, he’ll hear a young girl’s screams because his father couldn’t keep his hands away, or he’ll be asleep and woken up by it.
Even with a full night of rest, he’s exhausted.
Then every other day he’s at training. Being put through hell on earth to become the perfect crown prince everyone sees him as.
He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s taken up a bit of a habit…
Bottles and alcohol decorate an attachment in the kitchen. Some new and some forgotten.
Too many for his parents to drink on their own…
Late night drinking sessions join him when his loneliness tries to grasp him while. He’s warm and fuzzy and forgets how much he’s drank.
He can’t handle or hold his liquor, but if it drowns out his feelings he’s willing to let it burn him.
He stares and watches the women that take care of the palace the next morning.
They all run around, taking care of their duties and keeping the palace clean.
They tremble when he walks by, bowing respectfully. Yet once he’s out of sight they’re gushing over him.
Sometimes the liquor doesn’t do the job. It’ll drown his loneliness, but it more so subsides it. He wants human comfort once in a while…
He’ll drag one away from her duties. It never lasts long, and he never feels good afterwards, but she always does.
She’ll try and up her rank after to get closer to him. Or she’ll up her appearance in hopes that he’ll give her a glance.
He’s supposed to be focused on work. But if he’s alone he’ll open the windows and just stare, his gaze falling on the dead courtyard.
He’s seen a lot in that courtyard when it was alive.
Young maids run around and play. When he was younger, just starting his lessons, he was jealous. He wanted to run around, carefree like he used to…
He’s always tried to ignore him, but he’s seen his father standing not to far. Watching them, seeing the young girls.
But, while he’s procrastinating, he’s seen different samurai’s while on duty, holding cigars sticks.
He shouldn’t. But he ordered his servant to fetch him one.
It burned, obviously. But not even in a good way, the stress that was in him didn’t even leave.
He tried it a few more times before he dropped the habit. Once again he felt nothing but stress, coldness, and lonely.
The days blurred together. Papers, lessons, training, it all joins together and suddenly he’s right back to square one to repeat it all.
After a while all the girls and alcohol don’t do much to help him.
He dropped them. If he couldn’t get anything out of it that he wanted, he saw no point in them.
He’ll go on with the rest of his day, numb. Just going around fulfilling what everyone else wants until night.
Don’t get him started on dinner with his family…
His father, the pathetic man he is, sat away from him, but especially away from his mother.
He trembles around her, fearful. She doesn’t pay him any mind, nor her son. But she glances at him once in a while to only remind him to stay on top of his work.
It’s never anything that could help him get his feelings across. She never asks if he’s okay.
She never asks if something’s wrong.
Never asks if he’s alright.
Never says she loves him.
Never tells him anything.
Never acknowledging his existence…
He normally gets through dinner and halfway to his room before his thoughts start to suffocate him.
On a good day, he’ll get to his room and just let it consume him.
On an amazing day, he could get through it without letting it out.
But today, it started early.
Tea parties, powder, incense, perfume, tea, it all drowns him.
His mother’s fake coddles when guests were around. He’d cling to her, was this warmth? He clung to it, it didn’t defeat his coldness.
Closest thing he’s gotten to warmth in his life, and it was only for show.
Cause after it was all finally over, she’d pass him off to his attendants before she disappeared into her room.
He’s brought back to reality when he feels his eyes tremble. He was distracted again.
He takes a deep breath, before he continues with dinner.
He watches his family sit in silence, waited to be excused before he leaves and heads to his chambers.
He waits for his attendants to wash him till his skin aches, dressed him up to bed, and finally left him alone.
He stands still for a moment, letting the silence set in before he walks to his bed.
He sits down, pulling the sheets up as he does. He sits for a bit before he pulls them over his head.
It’s a lonely night, like all of them. But he just lets the tears fall, silently.
He doesn’t know what he needs. He knows he just wants someone to give him attention, if they can’t give them that then just some affection.
“You’re not paying attention.” His mother’s voice brought him from his thoughts.
The night and early morning must have blurred together, because next thing he knows he’s right back at square one.
He looked up at her with empty eyes before he picked up his quill.
He misses his youth. He missed the days when all he worried about was if he could have enough time to play.
When he was able to be a child without getting punished because he was a child.
He missed his old caretaker. She was demoted to someone in the military infirmary.
He’ll see her some days, sometimes he catches her looking back at him. Only to turn her gaze away when he looks at her.
He knows if he wanted to, he could bring her back to being his caretaker. But he’s also smart enough to know that his mother won’t hesitate to send her away from the palace.
If she knew all he was feeling, she wouldn’t hesitate to comfort him the way he knew he needed…
He needed someone who understood. Maybe a friend…possibly a partner?
“Young master, you mustn’t play in the dirt!”
“Young master, you must stay clean!”
Young master, your beauty surpasses all!”
“Young master, you’re the jewel of the Geto clan!”
“Young master!” “Young master!” “Young master!” “Young master!”
All he heard since he was young.
There was nothing wrong with it, obviously. But, no one told him anything else. Ever.
He was always pampered since a young age, he was treated as the finest, most delicate, thing ever.
His stepmother made sure he was always dressed in the finest clothes, his appearance was alway perfect, everting was always perfect or set up to perfection.
She made sure he had the best teachers, the best trainers, hell even the best water to bathe in.
His schedule was always tightly controlled. He had classes so he could learn to read, write, ride a horse properly, speak multiple languages, become the leader of his clan, it all fell into a schedule.
It was bearable, because if he finished his work he got to go back to his chambers.
He had four ladies who took care of him. They didn’t bother to treat him like a child, coddling him, trying to keep his innocence, they saw no point.
But, they still had alive feelings towards his mother, and he was the only part of her left behind…
Everyone who was still around ever since he was born, and knew about his mother, told him he looked just like her.
A woman they swear he was obsessed with, yet he doesn’t even remember her.
He remember little fragments of her, her smile and her hair, but nothing more.
They tell him how he has her hair, her patience, her eyes, her generosity. He’s told day in and day out how he’s just like her.
They’d tell him, “Young master, your mother used to do that…” whenever he did something that reminded them of her.
They’d direct him to do something differently. They knew it was in his nature to do things like her.
But they also knew if the mistress saw it, she’d punish not only them but him as well, without a care or a bat of her eye.
They still kept what they knew on the low. When they took care of Suguru during late night, they’d tell him stories about his mother.
How obsessed she was with him, how when she was upgraded she treated all her servants with kindness and compassion, how she put up with the mistress.
As much as Suguru knew nothing of this woman, he enjoyed stories of her. She was a complete contrast to his everyday life, he encouraged his attendants to continue with their stories.
Geto and his attendants kept their sacred ritual under wraps. They’d only tell their tales at night, and it seemed they would’ve nearly grew a relationship.
Yet, nothing ever got past the mistress. She’s a smart woman.
When his stepmother heard of these attendants telling him how similar he was to his mother, and stories of her, they were sent away and replaced.
A new group of women to watch him grow. They all told him how he had gorgeous hair, eyes, a pretty face. How…beautiful he was.
How gorgeous and pretty he was.
He was always told he was similar to his mother, yet no one told him he looked feminine…
Yet, these new…and younger, attendants…they all clearly weren’t taught manners. They also had no fears since Geto was younger, more naive, they clearly thought.
But, no one knew. They acted perfect when the lady came around. Even going as far as to groom him to perfection and dressing him the way the mistress wanted.
It wasn’t a secret, his stepmother had a constant want for him to be perfect. For him to look the best.
She’s let off some of her anger and resentment towards him and his mother, sh was still delusional on her infertility, but she’s grown into the age where if she did have a child, there’d be complications.
Now she’s trying to make the most of him.
She lets him be treated as a princess. Lets his attendants dress him up like a doll. Treat him like he had no emotion of his own.
He was forbidden to play outside, they were always fearful the sun would burn his skin, or the dirt would ruin his beauty.
He was sheltered indoors. Subjected to just his lessons and maids that wanted him to constantly try on different outfits.
They were bearable when they first came. They did their job and dabbled a bit.
But once they realized the mistress only wanted to make sure they kept him to his studies and duties, they were good to do whatever they wanted.
This freedom gave Suguru’s maids free reign over what they decided for him.
It started off tame with normal yukatas, then they began getting them in brighter shades, with more feminine designs, and next thing he knew when he had free time they were dressing him in kimonos.
Suguru was always good at keeping a smile. He’d laugh along with his maids as they forcefully cross dressed him and shoving him into the things they wanted to see.
But when he’d be alone at night his face would drop to a deep glare.
He’d think about how all he was good for, was his looks. How if only he didn’t look like his mother, maybe he’s be seen as an actual boy, and not some girl in hiding…
He’d accidentally let his want to be seen as more than a boy with a pretty face.
His attendants were wrapping him in clothes, tight silks, and shoving hairpins into his scalp.
He’d been so distracted by the tightening ribbons and the hair accessories digging into his head that he’d let his smile slip.
“That hurts…” He’d let his tongue slip too, because next thing he knew everything had came to a stop.
His attendants stop their endless chatter and laughter to look at him.
They stared at him before they began to swoon instead, saying how adorable his pout was and how they apologized dearly.
They left him alone, as they decided to take up his free time to do what they wanted.
He stared at the closed door, the silence ringing in his ears. He slowly looked away, the mirror staring back at him.
He slowly approached, bending down a bit to look at all of him.
His eyes…his lips…his hair, his soft face, his soft hands…He was always told he was pretty and how beautiful he was, of course he saw it, but now he was actually seeing it.
That’s how Sir Geto learned about pretty privilege.
He’d start using it to get his way.
If he was unhappy with someone he was talking to, he’d charm them into taking their leave.
He’d use it to manipulate his teachers into letting him leave his class early.
He’d used it on his attendants to get them to leave him alone. They’d try it back, but he’d only seen their ugliness.
As much as he abused it, he knew better to try it on the mistress. He knew she saw right through him.
She knew what he was playing at, and she instructed everyone to stay strong around him.
It never worked, but he saw her fight for power as amusing.
She was one of few people he could get through.
But he still had one last person to try it on.
A man he rarely saw, ever. It would be once in a blue moon they saw each other,yet every time they did his father would avoid him.
He’d try and hunt him down, yet his father was a coward, scurrying away from him every chance he got.
Geto did have the patience of his mother, yet he was immature, and a bit less impatient than his mother was.
He’d cornered the old man, smiling brightly. He’d possibly asked for something pointless, like another horse, more things to lavish himself, or possibly some new attendants. Maybe ones that didn’t have the mental capacity of little girls.
Yet, he stopped abruptly. The old man that sat before him, sat in a way that showed how properly trained he was.
Yet, he had a bit of a tremble to him, one that Geto might’ve missed if he hadn’t been paying attention so closely.
His eyes also had a…sad glint to them…
Geto brushed it off as if he just couldn’t get through to him, yet…
Before he and his father departed, he whispered under his breath,
“You look just like her…”
He got everything he tried to manipulate out of his father, and a note from his stepmother,
Telling him to dress finely, they were heading to the capital.
Dividers by @/cursed-carmine
I’m pretty much free balling these chapters and the course of the story, so it pretty hard to brainstorm different things to put in the chapters to move the plot. I’m mostly just throwing ideas together and hoping they make sense 💔
Anyways, sorry for ranting. I normally hate doing that. But if you want to see more comment, like, reblog, do whatever you want so I know to continue!
Have a good day/night/afternoon, whenever you reading this.
