#-- in a world that's grown too complex for its own good...''

[biitchcakes]

A hasty trip up California's winding coast finds Spider-Woman's alter ego, JESSICA DREW, strolling the hilly streets of the BAY. By DAY, she rides the wind-whipped CABLE CARS, lets her palate savour the infinite culinary delights of CHINATOWN, and watches, with GIRLISH WONDER, as sea gulls do air dances over FISHERMAN'S WHARF. . . But NIGHT finds her stalking the city's shadow-shrouded UNDERBELLY, lost in a maze of indistinguishable BARS AND BISTROS that are united by the pathetically common thread of CONFUSION and DESPERATION in the air ⸺ ⸺ as clearly as the smell of LIQUOR and CIGARETTES.

❛ APPARENTLY I HAVEN'T GOT A MONOPOLY ON FEELING LIKE AN OUTSIDER IN A WORLD THAT'S GROWN TOO COMPLEX FOR ITS OWN GOOD . . . ❜

( personals DNI . )

[agent-cupcake]

Amen

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f! Reader

Synopsis: No matter the severity of your actions, Suguru would never actually hurt a member of his sorcerer family. Luckily, there are other ways he can think of to punish you. It's for your own good.

Warnings: Explicit smut, dubcon, possessive behavior, manipulation

Tags: Punishment, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, cunnilingus, humiliation

Word Count: 10.4k

Notes: This story is for @laurenzel. I think this can be almost seen as a companion to my previous Gojo story since there's similar toxic motives and means used by the men, but a difference in method.

“Would you care to join me tonight?” was what Geto said to you, smiling so sweetly, so gently. He said it like an offer, or a question, but you both knew the answer. It was the same as it had been since the very first time he asked, since the first time he kissed you, since the first night you spent together.

And you, finally given direction in the big, confusing world, couldn’t even conceive of saying no to Geto. You didn’t have to do, say, or think anything on your own—just follow him. And you did. Happily, you did, thinking nothing of the offer other than how pleased you were that he asked. 

Chills prickled over your bare arms and legs when you walked into his room. The air felt a few degrees too cool, especially when you were accustomed to the August heat. Everything about his room seemed cold. It was furnished in stark contrast to the simple, traditional temple façade the rest of the complex maintained outwardly. Black painted walls, a hard floor, and ebony furniture upholstered with dark leathers and suedes. There was a flat, modern utilitarianism to the room despite its luxury, all at once inviting and off putting. The silky black sheets and dusky saturation of velvety vanilla and citrus lent a sex appeal to the room that you inextricably associated with Geto.

“Will you help me with this?” he asked, gesturing to his clothes. 

“Yes, of course,” you said, rushing to his side to help him undress. Even though the vestments Geto wore were for show, the articles were genuine and required careful handling. A perfect costume needed to be authentic. You unfastened the kasaya first, hanging it up. 

“I think,” he said while your hands were busy, “we need to talk about what you did.” 

You paused, turning to him with your brow furrowed, your stomach dropping in response to the accusatory tone of his voice. “What did I do?” 

“You killed Kurokawa.” 

Your frown deepened, your chest tightening with a harsh burst of guilt. “How do you know that?” 

Geto raised an eyebrow. That was the wrong thing to ask, it made you look more guilty than you were. Besides, the answer was obvious. He knew everything. You shook your head fast, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t sound like an excuse. 

 “I… I thought you would be happy I took care of him,” you said. “He was causing trouble. He was a bad man.” 

“If you thought I would be pleased, why didn’t you tell me right away?” 

There were reasons, weren’t there? Good ones, explanations that could help you smooth this over. Beneath the weight of his gaze, you couldn’t think of any of them. “I… I don’t, um…  I was going to, but I didn’t want to distract you or anything. I’m not… I didn’t mean-”

“No. You didn’t tell me because you knew you were wrong,” Geto stated, telling you so directly that you couldn’t help but believe it.  

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“To be clear, I’m not concerned with his death,” Geto told you. “I’m worried about you. About what you might do without my intervention. I have been for a while.”  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you said. That was probably the most true thing you could say, the sentiment that defined your existence. You did not understand. 

“I like to think that you’ve grown since you joined the family, but sometimes I don’t know if I can trust you to act with a clear head. Kurokawa was a doctor, wasn’t he?” 

You bristled at the reminder, mentally pushing back on the idea that you did it for such a personal reason. “He was… he was dangerous,” you argued. “He wanted to get the police involved.” 

“That isn’t my point,” Geto explained. “You acted out on your own. I knew Kurokawa was causing problems, but I didn't ask you to kill him. He still had value to me, in his own way." He paused, considering you with pursed lips. "If you told me what you did immediately, maybe I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but as it is, all this proves is that you haven’t moved beyond your past experiences. I can’t trust you."

You bit your lip, swaying back as if those words had been a physical blow, only becoming more confused. Completely and utterly confused about how killing somebody who was a bad man, killing a hateful monkey upset Geto. You did it for him. You did it because the man was evil, and because he said terrible things, and because he was a hideous embodiment of the type of person who would see you locked up tight in another drug dispensing, mind-numbing, monkey hospital. 

All you could understand was that you had disappointed Geto, and the cutting violence of his doubt cut deep into your chest as physically as a knife. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Are you going to finish this?” Geto asked rather than acknowledge your apology, pulling at his collar. You nodded, rushing back to his side to untie the obi sash and fold it, helping him shrug off his black yukata to hang that up as well.

Left in a tight undershirt, a pair of loose pants, and socks he was quick to peel off and toss aside, Geto-sama emerged from his costume looking a decade younger and twice as dangerous. Like this, he was Suguru. You weren’t equals, but you were more than a little familiar. Although, you weren’t sure if you would dare to be so friendly with him now that you understood you were in trouble.

Before, you assumed you were here because he desired you. Now that felt presumptuous and silly.   

You averted your eyes and stepped back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The silence physically hurt. Apologies built up like a dam in your head, stopping any other sort of thought from getting through as guilt brewed and boiled in your stomach. Worse, you couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe you had knowingly acted against Geto, against the family, because of what Kurokawa represented to you. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted. And, if that was true, maybe you deserved his anger and all of the terrible things that followed anger.     

“Are you nervous?” Suguru asked. 

“No,” you said quickly. 

“Liar. I can hear it. Your heart is racing. You’re scared. Is it me?” He nudged your chin up with the side of his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes and the little smile he wore. “Are you frightened of me?” 

“You’re angry,” you said, shrinking back. “Angry with me.”

“Oh,” Suguru hummed thoughtfully, “so you’re scared that I’m going to punish you. Is that it?” 

Hesitantly, you nodded. 

“You’re right, I am.” 

Your breath caught before you shook your head fast, panicking. “No, you… I’m really sorry. I mean it, I was just trying to… He deserved to die.”

“I understand,” Suguru said, “and I appreciate what you say you were trying to do. The problem is that I don’t believe that was your motive. That is why I’m upset.” He ran his fingers through his hair, putting into a messy bun. “Do you understand the distinction?”

You blinked fast, feeling the horrible bite of tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now… what do you think would be a fitting punishment?” 

You looked up at him in stark shock, hoping desperately that you misunderstood him. He didn’t clarify anything, simply waiting for you to answer. You shook your head again, your mouth opening and closing before you managed a meek, “I don’t know.” 

“But you agree, don’t you?” he asked, going over to his chest of drawers. Suguru looked at you over his shoulder, eying you up and down, drinking your awkward nerves. “You deserve to be punished for your disobedience.”

You exhaled sharply, conflicted about what kind of answer to give. More importantly, what kind of answer he wanted. If you were smarter, you would be able to talk your way out of this situation. If you were better attuned to Suguru’s needs, you would be able to give him what he wanted. If you were loyal, he wouldn’t have been mad in the first place. Those thoughts weren’t helpful, all you could do was stare and try to solve the puzzle of his mood. You had seen that little smirk on his face when he teased Nanako, but also when he killed non-jujutsu sorcerers that had outlived their usefulness. 

“You’re really asking me?” you finally got out, the only response you could muster.

His back was turned to you now as he looked through the drawer, but you saw his shoulder raise in a casual shrug. “I’m curious.” 

 Your gut instinct was to deny that you deserved punishment to try and spare yourself, but you held that impulse. You had already agreed that you did something wrong, so denying that you deserved punishment could make things worse. Then again, if you agreed, then maybe he would take that as permission to do even worse. Either one could potentially upset him too, because it would prove that you didn’t know what he wanted. Suguru did nothing to alleviate your nervous indecision as he turned around, holding an unmarked red box, watching you with that enigmatic smirk.

“If you think I do,” you said carefully, “then-”

“No,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking if you acknowledge that you deserve punishment for what you have done.”

“I won’t do it again,” you told him, your voice soft. “I promise.” 

Suguru frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know, but it’s true,” you insisted. Rather than relent to your distress, his eyes narrowed dangerously, finally giving you some indication about the response he actually wanted. “I do!” You said quickly. “I…” The words were thick like syrup, awkward to get out. “I deserve to be punished.” 

Suguru smiled, setting the box on the bed and sitting on the black leather footboard bench, his legs spread wide and comfortable and head slightly tilted.  

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked softly.

“Hurt you?” Suguru asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “I would never hurt you. I don’t think you’re likely to learn from pain anyway, hm? It wasn’t effective for your parents or doctors.”

“But… but you said you were going to punish me?” you asked, looking between him and the box with an increasing amount of anxiety. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Your jaw dropped. “I… My… You mean it?” 

He raised both eyebrows, daring you to deny him. You clutched at the front of your dress, your shoulders curling in. 

“But why?” you asked. He immediately gave you a pointed look, like you were stupid. “This… it’s… You want to…?” You couldn’t even finish the question, the whole thing was so divorced from any coherence you could wrap your head around. 

“You're allowed to say no and leave, I won’t stop you,” Suguru told you. He considered that for a moment, his head falling to the side. “If you stay, we’ll switch to your safe word rather than no. You remember it, don’t you?”

Safe word? You remembered him establishing that the first night he allowed you into his bed, but you hadn’t really thought much of it. Why would you ever want him to stop? Now the thought of it made you feel a little cold, and not because of the air conditioner valiantly chugging away in an attempt to keep the August heat at bay. It had taken a few days to come to terms with sleeping with Suguru after it first happened, but this was unreal in an entirely different way. You felt like you were looking down a very long, dark tunnel, like you were hopelessly and utterly lost.   

“I do,” you said faintly. “I remember.” 

“It’s your choice then.” 

You winced, unable to look at him. You weren’t going to leave. That was unthinkable. The idea of undressing in front of him like it was some sort of show wasn’t especially comfortable either, but you understood that you would do it. “That’s… it’s embarrassing.”

“I’ve noticed,” Suguru said. “You don’t want to think of yourself as the type of woman who would strip for a man. But you are, and you will. For me.”

You flushed darker, avoiding his eyes. Trying to keep your breathing from going completely out of control, you nodded. It was easier to obey. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you left his room right now, where you would go, how you would feel. It wasn’t about you, it was about what you had done to disappoint Suguru, and how you would make it right. He wanted to know that you were loyal, that you had left behind the pathetic wretch you used to be. 

Humiliating as it was, he was helping you. That was all he had ever done. 

“Yes, sir.” 

With shaking hands, you unzipped your dress. Considering the summer heat, you were wearing as little as possible. Three articles of clothing separating you from his eyes. You weren’t sure if that was better, making it so the process of undressing wasn’t so drawn out, or worse because it meant you couldn’t stall. 

“Keep going,” Suguru said when you hesitated with your thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of your panties. Closing your eyes, you pushed them down. The only positive you could think of was that you had the foresight to shave the night before. Ever since the first night you slept together you’d been taking personal grooming extremely seriously. Removing your bra was the worst of it all, but you dutifully undid the clasps and pushed the straps down your arms. He had seen you naked before, you reasoned. Even if you were disappointing, he still had asked to see you. It was fine. 

If Suguru wanted it, it was fine.

“You’re too pretty to be so self-conscious,” he told you in a very calm, matter-of-fact way. 

You tried not to shuffle awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your stomach to hide their shaking. “Thank you,” you said softly, unable to meet his eyes even if you could feel them heavily on your flushing skin. 

“Come here,” Suguru ordered. In your peripheral, you saw his hand raise, a single finger curling to draw you towards him. 

You obeyed on awkward feet, glad to close the distance. He sat up to meet you face to face, having to look up at you for once and pulling you closer. You automatically parted your lips to kiss him. That was something you knew how to do. But his parted lips only brushed the corner of your mouth. When you tried to tilt your head to catch him, Suguru pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open—when had you closed them?—to see him smirking at the little trick. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, releasing you.

Nerves knotted and tangled in your stomach. There was something hot about his detached control, but you weren’t sure you liked it either. Vulnerability was discomfort. And still, you knew better than to argue or question. Trying to preserve as much of your modesty as was possible, you got onto his bed. It was easier to comply. Better to be obedient like he wanted. You didn’t want to disappoint him again. 

“These are for you,” Suguru said, finally revealing the contents of the red box by lifting the glossy lid. 

You stared into the box with curiosity, and then with a sharp pang of recognition. After that, nerves. Dread. Excitement. Blinking over and over didn’t change what you saw, there was no mistake about what lay inside. A lot of leather. Some chains. Scarf-like ties. You were pretty sure the wand-shaped item was a vibrator. 

Suguru choked you last time you had sex, and he pinned your wrists down and pulled your hair and left marks on your thighs and chest, but this was different. Dangerous. This was scary. 

“Geto-sama…” you said nervously, sticking to the formal address in the hopes that he would understand the sincerity of your doubt. “I’m not…”

“As I said, you’re allowed to stop this at any time,” he said, dropping the lid back onto the box with a crisp snap. “I would never force you into anything. If you truly feel bad for what you have done and want to prove yourself to me, I shouldn’t need to coerce you.”

Guilt and nerves writhed in your stomach. And excitement, always excitement for the simple reason that it was Suguru. You would do anything for him, wouldn’t you? He had saved you. You disappointed him, it was only right that you did as you were told. You pushed the lid off again, forcing a sort of resolve. Your heart beat like a frantic war drum in your chest, and you were flushing so hotly it felt like a fever. 

“What’s this all for?” you asked, your voice hoarse. 

“You won’t be able to hold still on your own,” he replied simply. “Besides, I think you’ll look sexy like this. I was waiting for an opportunity to try it.” 

The bottom of your stomach gave way to anxious lust. You licked your lips, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Okay,” you said softly. 

“Put them on for me,” Suguru said, pulling out four of the leather cuffs. Your eyes widened, your lips parting to argue that as a step too far. It would be so much easier for you if he did it himself, if you didn’t have to actively engage with putting yourself in a literal bind. 

Although maybe that was the point. This was punishment. 

Prove your loyalty. You could do that for him. 

Despite your forced mental affirmation, the whole task seemed too daunting for a moment, you had a nervously suffocating sense like drowning, but you forced that down. You would do anything for Suguru. That’s what this was about. Proving to him that you were loyal, that you would do as he said. That you were devoted.  

You did the wrist cuffs first, slipping the first over your left hand and tightening the strap with your right. There was only one size; they would fit snugly. Thick chains hung from both cuffs. Although they weren’t as bad as pure metal bracelets, the leather wouldn’t be kind to your skin if you resisted too much. Tightening the strap on the right cuff was even worse since you were working with your non-dominant hand. 

“Do you need help?” Suguru asked, laughing at your frustrated attempts to get the tongue through the buckle. 

“Don’t laugh, please,” you begged, talking very softly to hide your increasingly unstable emotions. “I’m trying.” 

“Here,” he said indulgently, “let me.” Suguru held out his hands for you to let him finish securing the cuff. “Do you need help with your ankles?”

“No, I… Thank you,” you said, unable to look at his expression. You could do this. You had to do this. 

Still, your hands trembled unsteadily. When you nervously fumbled with the leather strap around your ankle, he laughed again. 

“Don’t look,” you mumbled. The chains hanging from your wrists playfully clinked against the chains on your ankles.  

“I have to make sure you do it properly. You could hurt yourself.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whispered, more petulant than anything.  

“I know,” Suguru told you sweetly, “but you’ve been such a good girl so far.” 

Your breath caught at the praise. At the very least, he looked away to pull off his shirt. You used the distraction to get your ankles secured, watching him remove his pants with your hands between your legs to retain some modesty. Suguru, stripped to his boxers, surveyed your handiwork, a little smile growing on his face.

“What?” you asked nervously. 

“Given how shy you are, I thought it would take more than this to convince you to do this for me. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or impressed.”

You frowned with a twisting sense of betrayal, but he cut off your displeasure by grabbing your legs to yank you towards him, leaning over the bed so he could kiss you.  

Before Suguru, you hadn’t really understood what the point of kissing was. It was an act of affection you mirrored with others because it was what people did. When Suguru licked your lips open for himself, you understood. Any touch of his body against yours had a potent effect, but the openly intimate domination of his tongue against yours, his fingers slipping up your hair to tilt your head, the hand on your bare waist, it was enough to clear your mind all over again. Igniting the purest type of motivation—lust. 

You wanted to show him your devotion. You wanted him to know you were sorry. You clung to his shoulders, hoping he could feel it.

All too soon, Suguru pulled back, his lips hovering inches from your own. You tried to follow, but he held you in place by your hair. 

“I’m impressed,” he said, answering his comment from before. “I admire your dedication. I only wish it extended to your actions. I can’t trust you until I know you obey me.”

“I do,” you said. “I…I will.” 

“Not yet.” Suguru didn’t wait for your response, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, your cheek, and then tilting your head to whisper in your ear. “Move back. I’ll take care of the rest,” he told you, his husky voice making you shudder.

“Yes, sir,” you muttered so softly you wondered if he heard you. When Suguru pulled away, you scooted back to sit in the center of his bed, waiting and watching with equal parts nerves and anticipation. He picked through the red box again, pulling out another set of leather cuffs and a bundle of those silky scarves. 

“Open your legs,” he ordered in a business-like voice as he joined you on the bed, crawling up to you and readying one of the leather straps. The sudden shift of tone surprised you, throwing you off all over again. 

“What’s that?” you asked nervously. He gave you a sharp look and you relented, opening your legs. Being exposed so brazenly made your skin crawl, but he paid no attention to your naked body, wrapping the strap around your thigh and fastening it, repeating the process on your other leg. 

“What is it that the monkey said to upset you?” Suguru asked casually as he tested the straps for give, deeming them satisfactory. The conversational tone burst your bubble of rose tinged intimacy, sending your thoughts back to unpleasant places. “I assume something set you off.” 

“I… um…” As if revealing a magic trick, he unwound a length of the red scarf-like fabric, distracting you from a question you hadn’t really understood in the first place.

“Or did he try to attack you?” Suguru pushed, neatly doubling the scarf and pulling it around your back. He had to sit close as he blindly tied the knot and the cashmeran twilight scent of his skin filled your senses, you held your breath when he pulled away just to keep it close for a moment longer. 

“Have you done this before?” you asked as he wound the scarf around your chest and shoulders with a practiced hand, searching for a distraction from the embarrassment. 

“Does it bother you if I have?” Suguru asked. 

“No, sir.” 

He had to lean forward again to fasten the final knot on your back. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “What happened?” 

You winced. “He called me delusional. He said I’m just a… a bitch in your harem, and that I’d go down with you.” 

“I see,” Suguru said, pulling back, his expression impassive. 

“I’m really sorry, Geto-sama,” you said. 

“Are you worried he’s right?” Suguru asked, his voice so saccharinely sweet it had to be mocking. 

“I don’t… I don’t know.” 

“You are special to me,” Suguru told you sweetly, petting your hair. 

“You’re special to me too,” you said, eager to try and express your adoration. “Very, very special.” 

“I’m doing this because you’re so special to me. I can help you grow, and help you move on. I can show you the benefits of an honest life without the petty influence of the weak, but I cannot force your obedience. I need you to choose to listen to me, to obey me.”

“That is my choice,” you said. 

“Haven’t you heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” Suguru countered, revealing the final trick of his little magic show. The chains on your wrists connected to those on your ankles with a few inches of slack, your ankle cuffs connected to the straps on your thighs, and the loose ends of scarves from the harness he had just finished tying were threaded into the D-rings on your thigh straps. Unable to balance upright, you rolled onto your back, fully exposed and unable to do much of anything about it. “This is your chance to make amends.” 

Suguru put his hand on your bare chest, right above your racing heart as it beat against your ribs. “You’re scared again,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Do you not believe that?” 

“I’m just…” you squirmed uncomfortably, unable to articulate what you felt. You didn’t know what you felt, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the intensely physical embarrassment and the panicked disquiet of being bound and exposed.  

“You know what to do to make this stop,” he pointed out, his hand dragging down your chest to your flinching stomach. “Just say the word, and I’ll let you leave.”

Suguru told you that almost like it was a joke. He was daring you to use the safe word and stop him, to show him that you weren’t as devoted as you claimed. His hand reached your pelvis and you whimpered, your hips wiggling in an undecided way. Did you want him to touch you, or were you nervous for that part? You couldn’t tell. The feelings were the same. 

He finally dropped over you, both of his hands resting on your ass before brushing up your thighs, pressing them further apart as he kissed you with an open mouth. Suguru’s tongue urgently met yours, teasing enough to invite your active and enthusiastic participation. To show him how much you wanted him. Of course you did. 

With a surprising bite on your lower lip, Suguru left your mouth to move down, licking and kissing his way across your jaw, following the line of your neck. He stopped there, sucking hard right above your pulse until you shuddered hard, making a soft, helpless noise. Your hands anxiously jerked, but all that did was snap the chains taut. Taking his time, his hand trailed down your thigh, his fingernails scraping the skin, until he reached your pussy. 

When Suguru’s fingers made contact with the sensitive flesh, you yelped, and he bit your neck hard enough to draw that yelp out into a pathetic keen. Your attempt to free your hands so you could push him back served only to pull your legs open wider. 

“Was that too much?” Suguru asked, lightly tracing your slit. 

“Hurts,” you said, your breathing hard and fast. He chuckled warmly, finding your clit and tracing little circles over it, just teasing. You whimpered. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, his lips brushing your skin as he moved down your chest. 

You made a choked, conflicted sound in your throat, any coherent response leaving your head the second his mouth closed around your nipple. Electric pulses of pleasure zipped down to your core, made that much more intense by the fingers on your clit. Suguru added more pressure against it, the weight sweetened by the friction of his calloused fingertips. Your hips rolled into the touch, your back arching for every delicious movement of his tongue or teeth on your nipple. 

A hoarse wail left your mouth when he released you with a wet pop, moving to do the same to your other nipple. His fingers were truly grinding against your clit at this point. It wasn’t the sweet enticement of pleasure, but a brute force motion that guaranteed you would come fast. 

You whined and moaned and shuddered, fighting the restraints. Sweat slicked up your skin, chafing beneath the restraints as you jerked, your body going taut to prepare for the sudden orgasm. You managed a choked, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” And then that tension snapped. It was good, but the rush was too fast and fleeting, fizzling itself out before you could savor the feeling. All it really did was make you want more.

With another lewdly wet pop, Suguru pulled off your nipple and sat up, his hand retreating from between your legs. “How did that feel?” he asked.

You swallowed, nodding fast. “‘s good. Tha-aa-nk you, sir.” 

“It’s interesting to me how much more sensitive girls are after coming,” Suguru said, teasing you with his fingers lightly tracing over your slit. “It’s almost obscene. Men need time, but you already want more, don’t you?” 

You shuddered, panting and flushed. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He smirked, although you couldn’t say you really understood the joke. Your entire body twitched, the chains clinking, and he licked his lips, looking at your flushed body like he was eying up a meal. 

Your eyes squeezed shut when he ran two fingers from your entrance, dragging a smear of slick arousal up to your clit. 

“No, don’t close your eyes,” Suguru said, beginning to draw patterns over your swelling clit. “Look at me.” 

You nodded, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze despite how overwhelming it was to be watched while he touched you so intimately. You squirmed, inhaling sharply through your teeth, already feeling the tantalizing build. 

“What about you?” you asked. “You don’t have to, um… um…” Blinking fast, breathing hard, your words scattered like dust and you felt the same tightening in your core, the sparkling promise of release. At the exact moment you were about to come again, Suguru pressed his hand flat between your legs, denying you that final push over the edge. 

Whining and desperate and so, so close, your hips bucked upward, desperate to come again. It was already too late, out of your grasp. “Geto-sama, please, I was-”

“No,” he said simply. 

“What?” 

“No. I’m not going to let you come again. I’ve already given you one more than you deserve.”

“No,” you whispered, horrified. “You… You can’t.” 

“No?” he repeated, his fingers tracing your clit slowly, with the barest amount of pressure. “You remember why I’m doing this, don’t you? I’m punishing you.” He pressed more intently against your clit. Unable to comprehend denial, your body began the process of drawing up tight. “You need to learn to be obedient. You have to learn to take whatever I see fit to give you.” 

“I am,” you gasped out. “I do, I-I will, I’m…” Your back arched, your arms and legs falling aside as if to make an offering of your body in the hopes that he would let you come this time. “I’m sorry that I… that I did that,” you babbled, your pussy tightening around nothing as your body got ready to come. “I’m really… really… I’m-” 

Suguru stopped just when you were on the precipice again, tapping your folds as if to mock your need. You squinted at him, your chest hitching a heavy breath, tears pricking your eyes. “But I said… Oh…” You didn’t finish what you were saying, too distracted by the slick slide of his fingers inside of you. So good. You swallowed hard, your cunt squeezing his fingers desperately as his fingers curled, dragging against your g-spot as they pulled out before thrusting forward. 

“If your words meant anything, you wouldn’t need to be punished in the first place,” Suguru pointed out, although you weren’t paying very close attention, your body awkwardly trying to roll into his fingers as they slowly fucked you. He touched your clit with his other hand, once again ensuring that you would come quickly. 

Too quickly, really. The intensity of pleasure shocked you, especially since you were so sensitive, desperate for more. “Please, can I… will you please… Please?” you begged, your animal need curbed slightly by fear. 

“You should know that no other man will do this for you,” Suguru said. “No one else will ever care for you the way I do.”

You nodded fast, knowing that was the truth. No other person in the world had ever been as kind or compassionate to you as Suguru. Nobody had ever wanted you, or made you feel important, or given you purpose. You loved him. You felt that affection swell alongside your building orgasm. 

He would let you come this time, he wasn’t slowing down. His fingers made a sickening wet schlick as they pumped in and out of your pussy, working in time with the finger on your clit. You were there, your body taut and ready and desperate and-

A wail escaped you when he stopped at the last moment, your entire body jerking in desperation to reclaim your ruined orgasm. As soon as it was gone, he returned to touching you in the same way, vigorously chasing you back to the edge and abandoning you seconds before you could get off. 

“Please,” you begged.

“I told you no,” Suguru reminded you, adding a third finger to pump and curl into your pussy as if to punctuate the cruel statement. You were off the edge now, but your body still stupidly strove to take more pleasure. You blinked tears, confused and needy and trembling, your breathing shallow. 

“Why?” 

He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. The touch on your clit had you throwing your head back, your nostrils flared and teeth clenched. Chains clicked together when you tried to free your arms, but it was a fruitless struggle. You didn’t want to respond to his touch in the same way, you needed a reprieve, but there was no escape. You were sensitive. Your body remembered coming once, and that was enough of an incentive to try to get more. 

“You can always stop me,” Suguru said. “If it becomes too much.”

“It’s…” you told him, although your attempt to seem brave was weakened by your breathy, pathetic voice. “I’m… I can take whatever you give me. I’m…” You sobbed, overwhelmed by the drag of his fingers against your g-spot. He barely had to put any pressure on your clit, it was so swollen beneath his teasing fingers. “Please, sir. I just… Just one, please?”

“I already let you come once,” he reminded you, amused. 

You moaned miserably, your head tossing back and forth as you readied yourself for another orgasm. You hoped that maybe if you could just come before he noticed, then that would be enough to soothe the horrible ache, the fearful deprivation he kept stoking to a blaze. 

It was there, right at your fingertips, on the tip of your tongue, and Suguru hummed happily when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. You shouted, thrashing against your bindings. They all held, keeping you helpless beneath him. 

“Please, I… please.” 

“No,” Suguru said, slowly pushing just one finger into you. You sobbed when he used it to massage your g-spot. Not giving you any real pressure or weight or friction, just that constant reminder of the pleasure you had been denied.

“I can’t,” you said tearfully, straining to get more out of that single finger like a starving woman being thrown crumbs. 

“You can,” Suguru told you. His word was gospel. It didn’t matter what you thought. 

He pulled his finger out before you could get too used to it, only to return with three. You choked, your body jerking hard enough against the restraints to hurt, suddenly thrown into high gear as he properly finger-fucked you, bouncing your entire body. 

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching your clit, you could get off just on this. Your body was thrumming with denied pleasure and you wanted it so bad you could scream. 

“Yes, yes, please, yes—No!” 

You were properly sobbing this time when he stopped, almost horrified by the intensity of your body’s disappointment when his fingers pulled out. You had no idea how he was getting the timing so perfect, but it was worse than if he was just hurting you. Suguru shoved his fingers into your open mouth while you were still reeling, smearing the taste of your pussy onto your tongue. You didn’t need his instruction to suck on them, hoping that the display of thoughtless obedience would earn you some leniency.   

“Good girl,” he cooed, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, almost enough to make you choke. When he pulled them out, he didn’t linger, kissing a line down your stomach. Your arms fought the restraints when you realized his intentions because you weren’t sure you could handle feeling his mouth on you like this, not if he was going to keep denying you. 

“No,” you whined. “Please, I… I can’t…” 

“Yes, you can,” Suguru said calmly, not even bothering to look up at you.

A heavy, almost guttural moan left your mouth when his tongue licked past your folds, tossing you right back into the abyss of lustful need. All he had to do was brace his forearm across the backs of your thighs and you were unable to do anything, your trapped arms and legs twitching, your feet kicking uselessly into the empty air, the chains connecting them to your wrists clicking. 

Suguru was good at this, switching between flat-tongued licks and pointed patterns, closing his lips around your clit until you were choking out these pathetic little chirps, your body reacting in a way entirely out of your control. 

And when you were there, right at the very edge, he pressed a kiss to your clit and looked up at you from beneath his dark eyelashes. 

You sobbed, throwing your head back in a childish display of disappointment. 

“You’re alright. Breathe,” Suguru said.

“Please,” you begged.

Suguru hummed as he lowered his head, shaking it side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. Your toes curled, your hands forming pathetic fists.  

It didn’t take much to build you up all over again, your entire body was wired and ready. You didn’t think you had ever felt so aware of yourself. Your skin, your pussy, your heart, your body, everything crackled and blazed. What was he doing, drawing kanji with his tongue? You didn’t know, but it felt amazing. You chased that feeling knowing you shouldn’t, thinking that maybe this time, maybe if you were fast enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe-

“No, please, I just wanna…” Suguru’s tongue stilled and he pulled away, watching you fall apart at yet another denied orgasm. “No!”

He casually pressed two fingers into you, massaging them against that spongy spot with a wet squish that was beyond obscene. “You know what to say to make me stop,” he told you.

“I know,” you said, wishing you could cover your face, wishing for some point of sanity here in this lust-mad haze. “I don’t want… Please, Geto-sama, I just wanna come, please.”

“Oh?” he said, his other hand returning to rest on your pelvic bone to playfully tease your clit. “Do you think you deserve that?” 

“I…” You tried desperately to figure out the correct answer by looking at his expression, but you couldn’t tell and his hands kept you distracted. Deserve didn’t matter, all you could think was that you wanted to come. “Yes?” you said, hoping very much that was the correct response, practically praying for the torment to end. His fingers slowed and you let out an embarrassing little keen. “Ah… No, no I…” His expression still didn’t change, leaving you scrambling. Your chest hiccupped with a sob, your confused spiral boiling down to the pit of desperate need. “I don’t know.”  

Rather than respond, Suguru’s head lowered between your legs once more to tongue your clit in time with his fingers. You felt a hot rush of hope that you got something right, that he was finally going to let you come. Your entire body surged towards the feeling, going so stiff that it made your trembling muscles ache. 

And there, right on the edge, he stopped. You didn’t have it within you to do anything other than cry, openly weeping at this point. If he were only teasing you it would be one thing, but he was purposefully working you right up to the edge and then abandoning you there. It was the feeling of being unable to sneeze amplified to a million, that torturous feeling of almost.  

“I’ll do anything, please,” you told him, your voice coming out broken.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t before?” Suguru asked. You opened your mouth to argue, only to realize that it didn’t matter. Nothing you said or did mattered, you were helpless to him. You had already surrendered everything else, the only thing you could do was obey and hope for his mercy.  

You understood. He didn’t want you to beg. He wanted you to obey. To be good for him without question. 

You could do that. 

Suguru pushed his fingers back into you, repeating the whole process of working you up and abandoning you again. And again. And then he added his mouth. There were several times in your life you’d been pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, and right then you were convinced that you were going to go mad. But you grit your teeth and endured it. You had to. This was your punishment, and Suguru would decide when to end your misery. 

You had to be good for him.  

Had you ever been this wet? Swollen too, all of your blood flowing dangerously hot between your legs. It was disgusting, your pussy was sloppy and red and he barely had to touch your clit at all to build you right up to that edge. And it was just as easy to let you fall, disappointed and unfulfilled and growing increasingly, painfully distraught from the denial. 

You beat your fists pathetically against the bed, hitting your head into the pillow like a madman. Air puffed out of your chest fast and hard enough to make your head spin, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. 

Rather than continue the torture, Suguru grabbed your chin, dragging you out of your spiraling haze. His fingers were slick from being inside of you. You met his eyes through a veil of tears. “Have you had enough?” he asked, his voice wavering with a parody of pity. “I’m worried you’re going to hyperventilate.” 

You blinked fast, trying to gather the coherence to respond. “I can… I can take it,” you told him with a miserable sort of resolve, your voice thin and breathless. 

Suguru smiled. “Really? And if I said I intended to leave you like this, perhaps to go find a way to fix the mess you made?” 

The thought was enough to make you sob. His attention was torturously uncomfortable, but being completely denied any resolution, being left bound and soaking wet and electrified with unfulfilled need, you almost would have rathered he hit you. 

But you nodded, forcing yourself to accept it. Anything less would be to reject his authority over you, right? It would make you seem less loyal. “Anything,” you whispered.

“Ah, that look in your eyes is wonderful,” he cooed. “You mean it, don’t you?” 

You nodded insistently. “I love you,” you told him, speaking without thought, saying it because it was true. “I’ll do… I’ll do anything.”

“Okay, I’ll let you come,” Suguru said, releasing your face so his hand could wander back down between your legs. 

You made a weak noise, your body unconsciously jerking, straining towards him. 

It was pathetic, he barely had to do anything, simply brushing his flat fingers in light circles over your swollen clit. And that was enough. Fear flooded your insides alongside the same frantic, hot rush of pleasure. All of your muscles contracted in a mass of sore, shaking muscles and bestial desperation because you were afraid he would stop again, afraid that he would deny you and there would be no recourse other than pathetic acceptance.

“Please, please, I-I love you,” you plead, your voice whispery, rough and desperate, borderline incoherent.

And he didn’t stop. 

That wet, hot snap of release was one of the best things you had ever felt. You convulsed, chains clicking and leather chafing against your skin and his name spilling from your lips over and over. He worked you right through the orgasm. You were crying again, sobbing and shaking and sticky hot. It felt good. It felt like forgiveness. 

“Another?” Suguru asked. Your eyes had been shut, but now they opened to see his smile.

You just shook your head, lacking the capacity to respond. 

He didn’t wait, pushing three fingers into you while teasing your clit with his other hand. It forced your body through a surprisingly uncomfortable rubbery mixture of overstimulation and mindless need. It left you feeling like an elastic band being stretched and stretched. In spite of that feeling, a few solid, harsh pumps later and you were coming again, your pussy squeezing his fingers to keep them there while he worked you through it. There was very little drama to it, you were already wrung out. But it was good. Hot and wet and good. 

Suguru didn’t stop. You fought the restraints, wanting to move, to writhe, to get more comfortable, to take some control back because you needed a moment to collect yourself. 

“I really-” It was hard to speak. Hard to form the words. Hard to get them out. “Oh God, I—ah.”

Almost painfully sensitive, the rough pounding of his fingers against your g-spot started to register as too much. You fought the restraints, a different sort of panic setting in. To keep your body from rejecting the pleasure of his touch, Suguru doubled down against your clit, pressing a little harder. You had been starving, but now you were splitting full from the assault pleasure. 

“Too—oo much,” you got out through your teeth, although it probably didn’t seem like it was too much when your back was arching accordingly, your pussy clamping down around his relentless fingers, that coiling buildup of release reaching its apex. 

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your fingers and toes clawing helplessly at the sheets as you came, practically choking on the hot feverish intensity of your orgasm. 

“No, it’s not,” Suguru told you. His fingers slowed at least, and then pulled out. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, he immediately shuffled down the bed so he could situate his head back between your thighs. 

You hissed, tensing up, your arms jerking against the restraints. Your clit was too sensitive for his tongue, he had to understand that. “You… You don’t… Have to,” you got out, your voice unsteady from how hard you were panting. “I don’t need-” 

“Don’t worry,” Suguru said sweetly. “I’m not doing this for you.”

The wet, warm patterns he drew on your clit with his tongue sent you into a sort of delirium. No matter how sensitive you thought you were, it was intoxicatingly good. He focused entirely on what made your hips try to jump, what made you moan and whine. When he slipped two fingers into your pussy at the same time, you felt ready to lose it entirely. You were falling apart. Splitting at the seams. You came with a harsh cry, Weeping at the fizzling heat of pleasure. 

Suguru didn’t stop. He just hummed and flattened his tongue and kept going, forcing you right past that sickening few seconds of sensory rejection and towards another orgasm. You could do it. You focused on that because even if you weren’t entirely sure you wanted more, you wanted to be good for him. How ungrateful would it be to not come when he was kind enough to eat you out? 

Covered in the sickly shine of sweat and shaking so uncontrollably that it felt like the world itself was trembling, you came again.  

When he was content you were done, Suguru stopped, pulling his fingers out with a final brush against your g-spot to make you whine, your body mindlessly writhing. He sat up, brushing back strands of sweaty black hair with the back of his hand. 

You wilted in place, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing while he messed with something else. It was hard to collect yourself, but you could already tell that you would be sore tomorrow. 

Hearing the shift of fabric, you opened your eyes to see Suguru remove his boxers. Despite your messily deteriorated state, the sight of his cock roused enough of your mind to focus. He was hard, the red-flushed head bobbed as he casually stroked himself which might have been for your benefit. Despite the sensory overload, your pussy tightened in anticipation of feeling him inside of you. If he fucked you and you did good enough to make him come, then you would be done. That was, at the very least, an end goal. One more thing you could endure for him, and then he would forgive you. 

Suguru looked down at you with a fond smile, an expression that seemed more than a little cruel when he was stroking his dick, when he knew fully well that you were painfully oversensitive and this would make it that much worse. 

“Should I make you beg?” he asked warmly, tapping the head against your painfully sensitive folds. You whimpered, squirming. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted this, and he probably knew that, but maybe that was the point. It didn’t matter, you wanted him, you wanted to be good for him, and that superseded every other thing you felt. 

“Please, Geto-sama,” you begged, defaulting to the formal address because you needed him to accept it, because he was your lord and master in every way except by name, because you adored him and worshiped him, and you needed him to understand that. “Fuck me, please. I’m yours.”

“So vulgar,” he said, sliding his cock up and down through the wet, sloppy mess he’d made of your pussy. “I wonder what happened to the sweet, innocent girl you used to be.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Please.”

“I’m kidding,” Suguru told you, bracing one hand on your thigh to force your hips to curl while lining up his cock. “Aren’t you going to beg?”

“Please-”

“No, no. Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look up at him through tear-covered lashes. “Please, Geto-sama. Please, I’m yours.” 

It was nothing for him to push in. You were wet and eager and it felt good. The feeling of his cock popping past the initial barrier of muscle and driving deeper into your pussy was one of the most uniquely pleasurable sensations you had ever felt, no matter what the context. It gave you the sort of fullness nothing could replicate, physically grounded you in a way nothing else ever had. 

Since you were watching, you got to see his expression slacken into one of pleasure. Your pussy fluttered and squeezed, just making room for him. 

You gave up keeping your eyes open as he drove himself even deeper, throwing your head back to just take it, to ignore the discomfort of his cock grinding against what felt like raw nerves. Suguru braced his hands on your thighs as he rocked his hips, taking his time. 

“What does it feel like?” he asked. 

“Good,” you said quickly, your tongue feeling loose like you were drunk. “So… So good.” 

“I want to feel you come again,” he said. “You don’t mind, right?” 

Your eyes fluttered open in confusion, shutting when he suddenly snapped his hips forward. “I can’t,” you whined. “Not again.”  

“You can,” Suguru told you, grinding his cock as far into as he could, pressing as deep as possible, deep enough to make you whimper and writhe. Could he feel that? Could he feel the way you were shaking all the way down to your bones, feel the way your heart raced and fluttered and skipped? 

And then you heard it turn on. When you heard the buzzing, your brain was wildly scattered enough that you thought it was an electric toothbrush which made no sense whatsoever. When he pressed the vibrator directly to your clit, you yelped, trying to buck it off but only serving to grind yourself into his cock. 

A few little circles with the thing against your clit was all it took for you to choke, your body seizing up with another orgasm. You were acutely aware of the way it caused your cunt to squeeze and suck his cock, coating it in a fresh wave of arousal as he pulled out, making a horrible wet slap when he thrust back in. 

Suguru groaned, keeping the vibrator directly on your clit as he chose a slow, steady pace. 

“I can’t,” you tried to tell him, squirming and writhing with renewed vigor as your body started to tense up to come again. You couldn’t stop it and of course it felt good but it was too much, almost burning. You could handle it. If you came again it would hurt, especially coming with his cock grinding so persistently into your overly sensitive cunt. 

“I thought you were being good,” Suguru said, rewarding you with a heavy, harsh thrust that made you wail. And another. That sent you over the edge, whimpering and shaking and incoherent with the overwhelming influx of heat and tingling overstimulation. Like the brittle snap when breaking a glow stick, or taking a crisp, juicy bite of an apple. It should have been good, but all you could feel was the wet, helpless violation of something ruined. 

Suguru moaned openly, driving himself deep enough for his hips to slap your ass with each heavy thrust. Your head whipped from side to side, the only form of protest left to you. He kept moving the vibrator to make sure you didn’t get too accustomed to any one type of stimulation. It was torture. Horrible torture. You wouldn’t have thought coming could be so agonizing, and yet when you drew up for another sharp, shuddery orgasm you couldn’t recognize it as anything else. 

“Is this better or worse than before?” Suguru asked, his words stuttered with each hard thrust. 

“I don’t… I can’t…” You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything except convulse and cry and come. Again. 

You didn’t understand. 

“You don’t know?” he asked, breathy yet amused. “You’ll have to—to tell me later.” 

The problem was that you had no place to think. You were too full. Suguru continued fucking you hard and steady. All you could hear was the slick slapping of wet skin and that infernal buzzing. There was so much weight behind every movement, like he was trying to batter his way into your womb. Each thrust was followed by a whimper or moan or cry. And the relentless vibrator against your clit. It hurt. It burned. 

“I don’t… don’t…” 

“You’re… not done,” Suguru told you, his voice heavy and breaking with exertion. “Come again.” 

You weren’t sure if you were actually crying anymore, or just sobbing and panting and so sweaty it felt like you were crying. You couldn't form any coherent words, or even incoherent rejections. So you obeyed, the taste of blood on your tongue and stars dotting your vision, your pussy burning and inner walls pulsing around his cock as you came again. Suguru groaned, his lovely lips parted and eyes closed. 

“One more,” he demanded. “Just… Just one… More.” That word was punctuated with a hard thrust and an especially cruel grind of the vibrator against your overstimulated clit. There was no point in saying no, or even believing it wasn’t possible. He knew more than you did. You didn’t know anything. 

With a miserable whine, you came again, although at this point it felt like there was just a long, helpless flow of overstimulation marked with waves of overbearing heat, and then your pussy tightened around his cock and it dragged cruelly against your g-spot, and that was all you could manage before you were tossed back into the mindless daze of agonizing excess.

“Even though it hurts, you’re…” He didn’t finish that breathless thought, although his amused smile went away when his hips suddenly stuttered and he fell forward, his forearm resting by your shoulder. 

Mercifully, Suguru shut the vibrator off, letting it fall somewhere to the side, bracing his other arm on the bed next to you as he sought his own end. Your arms and legs fell to the side, slack except for when your muscles spasmed or jerked. Every thrust added to the relentless cycle of too much, especially from this angle, you could feel the way your body worked itself up to come again, responding to his pleasure as if it were your own. 

“Geto-sama… Suguru please,” you begged and there was a chance he couldn’t make out that you were attempting to form actual words, but even with your sanity fraying at the edges from his torture, you wanted him to come. You wanted to know there was a reason for your complete unraveling, that you had a real, good purpose, some sort of justification to exist. 

Suguru forced your knees all the way up to your chest, pushing his cock as deep as possible as he came, working himself through it with shallow thrusts and these intoxicatingly sexy stuttered moans. Distantly, beyond the hellish, sweaty shell of your shaking body, you had the distinct thought that everything was worth it just to hear him moan like that. Just to be rewarded by his pleasure. Because you loved him. Because you belonged to him. Both of you were flushed hot and disturbingly slick with sweat and it hurt for him to be pushing so deep. Out of all the little cruelties he had subjected you to, the fact that you were unable to hold onto him like you wanted was one of the worst. 

When Suguru pulled out, that hurt too. Every part of your body hurt. He left you to fall bonelessly limp onto the bed, rolling around to lay next to you. 

In the relative quiet, your ears rang with a tinny discordance, paired with the engine roar of rushing blood. Your tongue was sandpaper in your mouth—little wonder, you had no idea how you had any liquid left in your body—and your limbs hurt from being stuck in the bound position for so long, but you couldn’t say you wanted to do anything to fix those things. As soon as the severity of those discomforts occurred to you, so were they carried away by the lapping tide of exhaustion. You felt like a sponge that had been squeezed dry. That’s probably what you looked like too.   

“I didn’t expect it to be so… Difficult to contain myself,” Suguru mused softly. You didn’t respond, marveling at his voice. It was very nice. So soothing and smooth. Perfect, just like every other part of him. “It’s wrong, but necessary. You never learned the right way to live, I have to guide you. Otherwise you could hurt yourself. You could hurt our family.” There was more conviction in those words, like he was trying to argue against a point you hadn’t made. 

Even if you were to be unbound, you wouldn’t dare close your legs. You couldn’t feel his cum slipping out, maybe you were too swollen. That would explain the painful heat. 

“I wish I didn’t have to make my point like this,” Suguru continued. “But I'll do whatever it takes for you to get it.” 

Mute confusion was the only thing you had left—you were barely aware enough to listen to what he was saying, let alone divine any meaning from the words. Your body hurt and you were thirsty and sweaty and tired. You didn’t think anything. You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t even confusion, it was just pure exhaustion. 

“Ah, you’re a mess,” Suguru said, sitting up. You groaned in disapproval when he started messing with the straps around your thighs, taking them off. Without the harness's support, your legs dropped limp onto the bed. Still, you didn’t move. You couldn’t fathom moving. “Hey,” he chided, “don’t go to sleep.”

You grunted unhappily. 

“Will you open your eyes?” Suguru asked, touching your fever-hot cheek. After a second, you did, meeting his gaze with your own dazed, blank stare. His expression was tender, you thought. So kind, so sweet, so gentle. “I need you to listen to me now, hm?” 

You made a sound to show that you were listening, looking up at his beautiful face with a marveling sort of adoration. Suguru really was beautiful. It was little wonder so many people thought he was a holy man. He undid the chains keeping your hands and ankles connected, letting your arms flop lifelessly into the sweaty sheets.

“I forgive you,” Suguru told you, his eyes scanning your body slowly, taking in the sweat and the reddish flush and the twitching, trembling of your muscles with some kind of affection. “But, and I need you to remember this,” he continued, his eyes returned to yours, “next time you disobey me, it will be worse.”

Worse? You couldn’t imagine worse. The idea of worse made your eyes sting, panic threatening to crawl back out of the abyss of your exhaustion to send you into a fit of tears.

You blinked and swallowed against your dry throat. “I’ll be… be good, I promise,” you said in a voice that was little more than a hoarse croak. 

“Shhh,” Suguru shushed softly, brushing your damp hair off of your sweaty forehead. “Don’t be scared. Everything I do, I do because I love you. You are precious to me, you know that, don’t you?”

Those words worked like ether sweet anesthesia through your head and you believed him, loved him, trusted him. He did this because he loved you, and because you needed to learn. Of course. That made sense even if nothing else did. 

[reality-detective]

It’s time for me to have another rant! 👇

Buckle up!!! ⚔️🛡️

The State of America:

I am angry. As an American, I am sick and tired of what this country has become. I do probably curse more than I should, but I am pissed off.

Our schools: Children are being indoctrinated by school teachers about sexual activity rather than things they should be learning about. You know, like civics, math, real history and science? What grown ass adult wants to discuss sexual intercourse with a minor? I’ll tell you, a social deviant fucking pervert. That’s who. I will not expose any child to that madness ever.

Our military: Our military is the weakest it has ever been. I have friends that are still in the military and they cannot wait to get out. Not because of their lack of service to this country, but the lack of leadership. The good ones are tired of getting slammed with “woke” PowerPoints on shit that doesn’t even matter to military readiness. It’s dumb. And our adversaries are laughing at us. I can’t even recommend someone to join the military until it is returned to its rightful place as the strongest military in the world.

Our southern border: The southern border is a dumpster fire. More illegal aliens and fentanyl are pouring through the border at record rates. The saddest part about this is the Democrats are wanting ILLEGALS to vote for any and all elections. Democrats only use their party for votes to continue their reign of power, while their own districts are literal shit-holes. Republicans are not safe from this and they really aren't much better. If they wanted the border shut down they would too. Always remember that Americans being murdered was never enough to shut the border down.

Joe Biden: I will never accept the thought that Joe Biden got 81 million votes. You cannot make me believe that the alleged President of the United States of America got the most votes in American history, then was kicked out from running by his own party. Give me a fucking break.

Kamala Harris: This Indian American woman locked up more black men than I have ever seen in my life. She doesn’t care about black people. Never has and never will. She just wants your vote.

Mainstream Media: These retards have been fed so much propaganda that they actually think Donald Trump will incite a civil war if he doesn’t win the 2024 election. You all have an extra chromosome if you truly believe that. There are some that are just gaslighting but a large portion of the population is too stupid to vote if they can’t decipher this.

Speaking of Donald Trump: This man has been given more bullshit to a public servant that I have ever seen in my life. For crying out loud, it has been over 2 weeks since the Deep State almost took his life and no one has been held truly accountable. They are all behind it until proven otherwise. Imagine if that was the other way around. Democrats would want to put the nation on lockdown like they did during COVID.

National debt: As of today the United States is at $35,000,000,000,000.00 in debt. How irresponsible of adults. I will never be gaslit to send money overseas anymore especially since Americans are struggling to put food on their table. How outrageously treasonous.

And to top all of this off. I am a white male that was in the military and now I'm considered a domestic terrorist by some. How unbelievable is this? The same ones that are backing the Military Industrial Complex. The same “elected leaders” that I served, don’t have our backs when we return home. The military are the ones that uphold and defend the Constitution, not them.

This is not what America should be about. This is not the country I served. Not anymore.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!! 🤔

God Bless America. 🇺🇸

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

i think its weird that the story has allll of this time to explore the archeron sister dynamics but never does. there's a good six years of time that goes by before the real rift between the sister starts (when feyre goes hunting). we know that papa archeron favored feyre and elain - why doesn't the story delved into what that may have felt like for nesta to lose her mother and then be placed in a dynamic where she isn't liked anymore. and then to add everything on top, they're poor, they've lost their status, everything that gave nesta value doens't exist anymore. and not only that - she's lost her only source of validation. the kind of cool exploration of jealousy and girlhood. that's a huge shift for all of the girls.

or how does feyre factor into this new dynamic. we can assume that for her formative years, she was neglected or isolated from her sisters. and while that allows freedom, in some sense, it breeds loneliness, and resentment. or even an eagerness to please. exploring how feyre may subconsciously looks for validation through martyrdom would be very interesting. it’s something i felt like was at least present on a surface level. the hunting doesn’t even have to be about love for her sisters, it could have been an aha moment; a moment where feyre realizes how she can establish value for herself in that household. think about it: no one ever saw feyre, no one ever saw her as valuable, it would make sense if the story played into the absurdity of feyre’s hunting. like it makes no sense logically to us as readers, but to feyre as a character it’s the only way she feels she can make her family actually see her. this could even develop into creating the idea that feyre's love language is through acts (which I think is actually something substantiated in the text). if we were to continue onto

and even the 'favoritism' that's shown toward feyre and elain is something to be explored bc its not something the sister's actually 'benefit' from. it just exists. its not like feyre gets extra meals bc papa archeron may like her better, and its not like elain benefits from that dynamic as well. it just obvious he's very offput by nesta - that he viewed nesta oftentimes as a woman instead of a little girl.

and then what happens with nesta, feyre, and elain have to grapple with the ways they’ve been abused.

during feyre’s formative years, she wouldn’t have received the physical abuse and harassment that nesta received from mother and grandmother so her understanding of nesta’s dynamic with their mother would have been more romantic. feyre may associate any type of attention as positive due to the result of her own neglect by her mother. so she would’ve gone on not understanding nesta’s turmoil.

on the flipside nesta would have romanticized feyre’s “freedom.” and grown jealous of the kind of free-spirited person feyre she perceives feyre to be bc of such. there is no fear of not following the rules, of being perfect, of having to sacrifice your happiness for a good match. and while some of this is true for feyre, it’s not necessarily positive. it doesn’t negate that feyre’s neglect was just abuse too. the book could even explore the jealousy nesta feels at not being to be ‘master of her own fate.’ and how her childhood made mental roadblocks that make it hard to just march to the beat of your own drum.

these are conflicts that can (1) still reiterate the theme of abuse and abusive family relationships. (2) this reads into an actual feminist lens in which these women are complex characters dealing with a complex sitituation. the expectation is not that nesta, feyre, and elain remain these morally good paragons of virtuousness.

we have elain - who arguably operates one of the most interesting portions of the sisterly dynamic by being the middle sister. i think that could breed a character that’s much more organically perceptive to the world around her. i even think the story attempts this initially at the end of tar before there was a hard reset in maf. think about it - she’s could be placed in situations that hallmark that gradual loss of self in this dynamic; how does elain feel about the arguments between feyre and nesta? perhaps she follows nesta bc there is jealousy? resentment? or does she envy feyre’s ability to take charge of her own life? i would have it where elain has to grapple with these false perceptions of her sister and how she can find her own spine. we could even argue that maybe the sisters (feyre and nesta) are tangibly holding her back (not just implied) and have the sisters deal with how they contribute to elain's initial lack of a spine.

the story could play it in so many directions. mutual jealousy between all three sisters, all envious of one another bc of how isolated they were to each other. if the story wanted to, it could even still play into the idea of an abusive nesta with this dynamic - flesh out her abuse in ways that still (1) emphasize the tragedy of these women and (2) establish that feyre is a victim in this scenario (see: azula). if the story moved away from moralization and just told a story the existence of an abusive nesta would not be this controversial (considering all of the male leads are kind of abusive). i also think the exploration of a tangibly abusive nesta could factor in a broad thematic discussions around abuse.

[huellitaa]

the world is yours, literally 💭🎀🧁

so if you've been on this side of tumblr or any girly self improvement etc. side of social media, there's a high chance you've discovered the statement "you are the creator of your own reality" or "the world is yours" or something along those lines at some point. it sounds so far fetched when you first hear it, without any thought going into its true meaning, but the reason this is used so much is because it is true.

we are our lives. you are the world around you. everything in our lives is intrinsically entwined in ways we can't explain and the biggest connection out of all of them is us and life. it sounds obvious and self explanatory, sure, but when you think of it on a deeper level and dig into the complexity of the notion, like most things, you'll find it holds a lot stronger of a stance in your life.

have you ever noticed how so many metaphors for your life and bettering yourself reference and relate to nature and the world? "treat urself like garbage and the flies will come”, “water your own garden before anyone else’s”, “the darker the night, the brighter the stars”, “needing good roots to grow", they all relate to the sun and the sky and the sea and the world and the ground we stand on. they all relate to earth.

have you ever noticed how when people free themselves from bad situations, their reality and their world around them seems to get better too? how it seems to shift along with them?

because we are our world. every building we've built, every concept we've invented, every life we've created and every life we've lost, everything on this earth down to the last blade of grass was once nothing, but once we began to discover and create and flourish and bloom (see, the analogy still stands even there), the world grew along with us, and still is every day.

in truth, the world is in no set way, shape or form. it is not a singular entity. that's why your life can be remade and reshaped so easily within the blink of an eye (but that's for another time) because the world you know is solely your reality. that's the reason everybody has a different perception of you just as you do them, the reason why we have separate interests, conflicting outlooks, the list goes on.

the more we grow, so does our world, and our reality. you've seen how many people have changed and grown and gotten happier and healthier and only kept on going when they finally began to step up and better themselves, how their world changed along with them. because us and the world are one and the same.

the most important thing i'd like you to ask yourself is how do you treat the world? how do you view the world? and how do you treat and view yourself? are there any particular differences? similarities? anything that stands out? what is the world to you?

all my love... 💬🎀🫶🏻💗

[ginxyy]

lollapalooza and Denim

- Denim is always a good idea. Even more so when its on a man called Minghao

The lights dimmed in the vast expanse of the Lollapalooza stage, casting a vibrant ambiance that seemed almost otherworldly. The last notes of the concert echoed in the air, but my heart was still racing, thrumming to the rhythm of every song Minghao and the other members of Seventeen had performed that night. I had come to support Vernon, my boyfriend and Minghao’s longtime friend, but as I watched the dazzling display of talent unfold before me, there was only one person I could see Minghao.

He was a vision on stage, drenched in the glow of the spotlights, his denim ensemble hugging every sculpted curve of his body just right. The way his slicked-back blonde hair caught the light made him look almost ethereal, a celestial being moving effortlessly across the stage. Each fluid dance move, every powerful note sung was a declaration of passion, one that sent shivers down my spine.

But it wasn't just his talent that entranced me; it was the electricity that seemed to pulse between us. Minghao had always held a magnetic allure, one that danced on the edges of our friendship.

A connection that had grown deeper and more complex over time. I could feel it intensifying under the layers of the music and the screams of the adoring crowd, wrapping around us like an invisible thread, pulling us closer together, even as I stood there, hands intertwined with Vernon’s, my heart heavy with a mix of emotion.

As the concert came to an end, the audience erupted into applause, the sound thundering like waves crashing against the shore. My eyes sought out Minghao, and once he caught my gaze, a sly smile broke across his face, igniting a fire deep within me. He beckoned me with a subtle tilt of his head, a silent invitation that sent my heart racing. I knew I shouldn’t respond, that I should remain rooted to the spot beside Vernon, but the allure of Minghao was impossible to resist.

After the final bow, I felt an irresistible pull, and before I knew it, I was slipping away from Vernon’s side. The thumping beat of my heart drowned out the world around me as I navigated through the crowd, my instinct guiding me toward the back exit where I found Minghao waiting, his breath heavy and cheeks flushed from the performance.

“Hey,” he murmured, excitement glimmering in those dark, expressive eyes.

“Hey,” I replied, a shiver crawling up my spine at the intimacy of the moment, the closeness that hung in the air between us.

“You were amazing tonight,” I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. I was almost entranced by him, caught in a web of emotion that spun thick and sticky around both of us.

His smile widened, the corners of his mouth lifting, revealing a confidence that was both charming and intoxicating. “You always say that, but tonight felt different,” he admitted, stepping slightly closer. There was an urgency in his tone, a kind of desperation that made every nerve in my body sing. I was hyper-aware of the warmth radiating from him, an electric connection sparking between us.

It was a dance of glances, stolen moments, and lingering touches. My heart fluttered with guilt and fire, knowing that I should be thinking of Vernon, yet all I could focus on was the energy that had always been so palpable between Minghao and me. There was an intensity in those moments, a heat that burned bright enough to set the world aflame, and in that instant, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in him.

“Let's get out of here,” Minghao said suddenly, breaking me from my reverie as he grabbed my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to pull away, to remember who I was with, but my heart raced with rebellion, the draw to Minghao too powerful to ignore. So, I let him lead me.

We found a quiet spot away from the chaos, a small alcove that felt like our own hidden world, away from the watchful eyes of fans and friends. The sound of the music faded into a thrumming background hum as we stood there, close enough that I could feel the heat emanating from him, my stomach twisting with uncontrollable longing. There was an unsaid understanding between us, heavy with the weight of what we both felt but couldn’t fully articulate.

“Minghao…” I started, but the words twisted in my throat, stuck and tangled with the conflicting emotions flooding my mind.

He took a step closer, his face mere inches from mine, the intensity of his gaze pulling me in like a moth to a flame. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for so long.” His voice was low and serious, causing a ripple of excitement to run through me. “There’s always been something between us. You know that, right?”

I nodded, my breath catching in my throat. The truth hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. It felt like stepping onto the edge of a cliff, the thrill of the leap overshadowed only by the fear of the fall. Minghao brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and the softness of his touch sent shivers cascading down my spine.

“I don’t want to come between you and Vernon,” he continued, his voice steadying despite the tumult of emotions swirling around us.

“Neither do I,” I confessed, my voice tremulous. “But when I’m with you…” The sentence hung unfinished, as the weight of my feelings pressed against my chest, demanding to be acknowledged.

He closed the distance between us, his breath ghosting over my lips. “But when you’re with me…” he mirrored my thought, and our gazes locked in a moment charged with unsaid possibilities.

In that instant, surrounded by the afterglow of music and the lingering scent of sweat and excitement, the world outside faded to a whisper. All that mattered was the thrum of my heart and the way his eyes searched mine, catching fire with an intensity that begged us to act.

With that small, insistent gravity, everything shifted. Our hands found each other again, fingers intertwining in a desperate embrace as unspoken words exploded between us. Without thinking, I leaned forward, caught in the undertow of our connection, the barrier of guilt falling away like fragile glass.

Our lips met, soft and tentative at first, but then as if all the pent-up longing collapsed into that one moment a fire ignited, fierce and undeniable.

With every brush of Minghao’s lips against mine, I felt the war between my heart and mind fizzle out, consumed by the passion that enveloped us. My heart raced. The world was a blur outside our embrace, the concert fading into a distant memory as I sank into the kiss, wanting only to lose myself entirely in him, at least for this fleeting moment in time.

But even as my body succumbed to the heat of the moment, a quiet voice nagged at the back of my mind. I was still holding onto a thread of reality a life with Vernon and the warmth of his affection. I dreaded what this would mean, the chaos that this moment of passion would bring. But Minghao felt like a different kind of love, uncharted waters that stirred a kind of desire I hadn't known I was searching for.

As we pulled apart, breathless and slightly dazed, I looked into his eyes, a mix of elation and angst swirling within me. I was standing on the precipice of something beautiful and terrifying all at once a moment that buzzed with potential, a dangerous love that beckoned me closer.

The air between us hung thick with tension, the taste of Minghao’s lips still lingering on mine. His eyes bore into me, dark and consuming, pulling me deeper into a vortex of desire and confusion. I had never felt anything like this before this overwhelming attraction that threatened to unravel everything I had built with Vernon. My heart pounded in my chest, an erratic drumbeat that matched the intensity of Minghao’s gaze.

For a moment, neither of us moved, the world outside reduced to a hazy blur as if we were suspended in time, trapped in this secret corner of the universe where nothing else mattered. The sharp scent of sweat and the fading echo of the crowd filled the air, but my senses were entirely attuned to him Minghao. His presence consumed me, like wildfire, spreading through every nerve in my body, burning away any rational thought. The guilt I had felt moments ago flickered like a dying ember, overwhelmed by the raw magnetism between us.

I could still feel the ghost of his lips on mine, soft yet demanding, as though he had been waiting for this moment as long as I had. The electricity that had sparked between us on stage now seemed to hum through the air around us, making it difficult to think of anything other than the way his touch had sent shivers down my spine.

“Minghao…” I whispered again, the weight of his name heavy on my tongue, filled with all the questions I couldn’t bring myself to ask. What were we doing? How could I face Vernon after this? But even as those thoughts tried to take root, I found myself stepping closer to him, pulled by a force I couldn’t resist.

His breath hitched slightly, his eyes flickering with an emotion I couldn’t quite place desire, yes, but also something deeper, something dangerous. His hand, still warm from the stage lights and the intensity of his performance, slid slowly up my arm, tracing a path of fire along my skin. I trembled under his touch, my body betraying me even as my mind screamed at me to stop.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confessed, his voice low and rough, vibrating with a hunger that matched my own. His words struck me like a bolt of lightning, sending a rush of heat through me. I had always known there was something between us, a connection that went beyond friendship, but hearing him say it aloud made it real in a way I hadn’t been prepared for.

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Minghao… we can’t…” The words felt hollow even as I said them, my voice faltering under the weight of the moment.

“Can’t we?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my core. His breath was warm against my skin, and every inch of me ached with the need to be closer to him, to feel the full weight of his body pressed against mine. The logic that had been desperately trying to keep me tethered to reality was slipping away, dissolving into the overwhelming sensation of him, of us.

I gasped softly as his hand found the small of my back, pulling me against him, the heat between us flaring like a flame stoked by desire. The soft material of his denim jacket rubbed against my skin, and I could feel every inch of himthe hard lines of his chest, the rapid rise and fall of his breath. My hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, clutching at the fabric as though it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

He tilted his head, his lips grazing my jawline, igniting sparks of pleasure that rippled through me. Every touch, every brush of his skin against mine, made it harder to think, harder to remember why this was wrong. I was losing myself in him, in the way he made me feel alive, electrified, like I was on the edge of something thrilling and dangerous.

His lips moved to my neck, pressing a trail of soft, burning kisses that left me breathless. I let out a soft moan, the sound of it swallowed by the hum of the distant crowd, but Minghao heard it felt it. His grip on me tightened, and I could feel his restraint beginning to fray, unraveling as quickly as my own resolve.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against my skin, his voice a strained plea, as though he was fighting his own battle. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to stop. My silence spoke louder than words, and he must have heard my unspoken answer because the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine again, fiercer this time, more desperate. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty just raw, unfiltered desire. I kissed him back with the same intensity, pouring everything I felt into that kiss, as though it was the only way to make sense of the chaos swirling inside me.

His hands roamed my body, exploring the curves and planes with a kind of reverence that made my heart race even faster. He pulled me closer, and I could feel the heat of him seeping through his clothes, melding with mine. It was intoxicating the way he touched me, the way he made me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered in that moment. Every kiss, every caress, made the line between right and wrong blur until it didn’t exist at all.

But then, as if the universe was intent on reminding me of the consequences, a voice broke through the fog of desire.

“Hey… what the hell is going on?”

I froze, my heart dropping into my stomach. Minghao pulled back, his expression shifting from one of pure desire to something darker, more guarded. I turned slowly, dread pooling in my chest, and my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him joshua, standing just a few feet away, his eyes wide with shock and something else… hurt.

His gaze darted between Minghao and me, the confusion clear in his expression. He had seen us. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, the weight of what we had just done crashing down on me with brutal force. My mind raced, a thousand excuses and explanations swirling in a frantic whirlwind, but none of them made it past my lips.

“Joshua…” I stammered, my voice barely audible, but I had no idea what to say. What could I say?

Joshua’s eyes narrowed, a mixture of disbelief and betrayal flashing across his face. “What are you doing? Does Vernon know about this?”

The mention of Vernon’s name felt like a dagger to the heart, twisting painfully as the reality of what I had done began to settle in. I had kissed Minghao. I had let myself get carried away by the pull between us, but Vernon… he was still out there, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind the scenes.

“No, he doesn’t,” Minghao said, his voice calm but edged with something I couldn’t quite place. He took a step forward, his posture protective, as if he was ready to shield me from the fallout. “And it’s better if it stays that way.”

Joshua’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “Are you serious? Minghao, this is Vernon we’re talking about. He’s your friend.”

“I know that,” Minghao snapped, his tone harsher than I’d ever heard it. “You think I don’t know what this means?”

Joshua shook his head, frustration written all over his face. “Then why are you doing this? Why would you risk everything for… for a moment?”

Minghao’s expression softened, and for a brief second, his gaze flickered to me, filled with the same intensity that had ignited everything between us. “Because it’s not just a moment, Josh. It’s more than that.”

Joshua scoffed, his disbelief palpable. “More? Minghao, you’re playing with fire, and you’re going to get burned. Both of you.”

I stood there, trapped between the two of them, the weight of my guilt and the gravity of the situation pressing down on me like a heavy stone. My mind was spinning, my emotions a tangled mess of regret, desire, and fear. Joshua was right. This was dangerous. What had I done?

“Minghao…” I began, my voice trembling, but I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. I didn’t know what to do.

Minghao’s hand found mine, squeezing gently as if to reassure me, but it only made the knot of anxiety in my chest tighten. I couldn’t ignore the gravity of what had just happened, the implications it had for all of us for me, for Minghao, and especially for Vernon.

Joshua shook his head again, taking a step back as though the sight of us together was too much to bear. “You need to figure this out,” he said, his voice low and filled with disappointment. “But I’m telling you now, this isn’t going to end well.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving us standing there in the aftermath of our impulsive, reckless actions. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Joshua’s words hanging in the air like an impending storm.

I pulled my hand from Minghao’s, stepping back, my breath shaky as I tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing through me. “This was a mistake,” I whispered, though my heart ached as I said the words.

Minghao’s eyes darkened, hurt flickering across his face, but he didn’t argue. He simply nodded, the tension between us still thick, still simmering just beneath the surface.

But I knew Joshua was right. This wasn’t going to end well.

Minghao’s eyes bore into mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the tension thickened between us. Joshua’s departure should have brought clarity, but instead, it ignited something more primal within both of us a shared understanding that this moment, however forbidden, wasn’t over. The gravity of what had just happened hung in the air, but neither of us was ready to acknowledge it. Not yet.

The pulse of our shared desire was undeniable, even with the weight of guilt pressing down on me. I could feel it the way my body was still drawn to him, the fire between us refusing to fizzle out despite the storm of emotions swirling in my mind. My gaze drifted back to Minghao, who was watching me with a look that sent a shiver down my spine, filled with longing and intensity.

His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he took a step toward me, the air crackling with tension. The dim lighting of the alcove cast shadows across his face, accentuating the sharpness of his features. His expression was conflicted, but his eyes were dark, hungry, as if he was waging a war between what he knew was right and the undeniable pull he felt toward me. The restraint he had shown earlier was beginning to fray.

“I don’t want this to end,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was holding himself back by a thread.

My breath hitched, and my heart raced as the weight of his words crashed into me. Every logical thought screamed at me to pull away, to put distance between us, but my body betrayed me. I wanted him, craved the touch of his lips on mine again, needed the way he made me feel like no one else ever had. Even with Joshua’s warning ringing in my ears, I couldn’t stop the flood of emotions coursing through me.

Before I could say anything, Minghao’s hands were on me, gripping my waist firmly as he backed me up against the cold wall of the alcove. The hard surface met my back with a soft thud, sending a jolt through me that only heightened my awareness of how close he was. His body pressed against mine, and I could feel every inch of him solid, warm, and intoxicating. The heat radiating from him was almost unbearable, every nerve in my body on high alert.

“Minghao”.. I started, but my voice broke off as his lips crashed against mine, cutting off any protest I might have had. His kiss was desperate, filled with a kind of raw intensity that took my breath away. There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tentative just pure, unfiltered need. My hands instinctively flew to his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if I could anchor myself to him and make sense of the chaos inside me.

His lips moved against mine with a kind of urgency that matched the rapid pounding of my heart, and I could feel the way his body trembled slightly, like he was holding back from completely losing control. But I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted him, needed him, in a way that both thrilled and terrified me.

I gasped as he broke the kiss, only to trail his lips down my jawline, leaving a burning path in their wake. His breath was hot against my skin, and my head tipped back involuntarily, exposing the column of my neck to him. Minghao didn’t hesitate. His mouth latched onto the sensitive skin just below my ear, and I let out a soft moan as the sensation rippled through me, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.

He sucked gently at first, but then his lips tightened around the delicate skin, the pressure intensifying as he left a mark—his mark. The realization that he was claiming me, branding me as his in that moment, sent a thrill of excitement through me that I couldn’t suppress. My fingers dug into his shoulders, urging him on, silently begging him for more.

“Minghao, please…” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for, but I knew I needed more of him, needed to feel the full weight of his desire for me.

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze dark and smoldering with a mix of emotions I couldn’t fully decipher. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “I’ve wanted this for so long… to feel you like this… to be this close.”

His words sent a shiver through me, my entire body humming with the intensity of the moment. There was something in the way he spoke, in the desperation that laced his voice, that told me this was more than just physical for him. This was something deeper, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair, which had become slightly disheveled from the heat of the moment. “I’ve wanted this too,” I confessed, my voice trembling with the weight of the truth. “I’ve tried to deny it, but… I can’t anymore.”

Minghao groaned softly at my admission, and before I could say anything else, his lips were on mine again, kissing me with even more urgency than before. His hands roamed my body, sliding down my waist and over the curve of my hips, pulling me impossibly closer. The rough texture of the wall behind me contrasted sharply with the heat of his body pressed against mine, and it only heightened the sensation, making everything feel even more intense.

His lips left mine again, trailing down the side of my neck, and I felt the unmistakable sting of his teeth grazing my skin. My breath caught in my throat as he bit down gently, leaving another mark, and then soothed the spot with his tongue. The mix of pain and pleasure was intoxicating, sending waves of heat coursing through me. I could feel his need for me in every touch, every kiss, and it matched my own.

“Minghao…” I breathed, my voice shaking with a mixture of desire and anticipation. My hands slid down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, the heat of his skin seeping through the fabric. I needed to feel more of him, needed to drown in this moment with him.

His mouth moved lower, sucking at the hollow of my throat before trailing down to the exposed skin just above the neckline of my shirt. He kissed and nipped at the sensitive flesh there, his hands gripping my waist as if he was afraid I might slip away. But I wasn’t going anywhere. I was as lost in this as he was, consumed by the fire that had ignited between us.

His hands slid up my sides, brushing against the hem of my shirt, and I gasped as his fingers grazed the bare skin of my stomach. Every touch sent a spark of electricity through me, making it harder to think, harder to focus on anything but the way his hands felt on my body.

“I need you,” he whispered against my skin, his voice low and rough with want. “I need to feel you… all of you.”

The intensity of his words made my heart race even faster, and I couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through me at the thought of what he was asking for. I knew I shouldn’t want this, knew I was crossing a line I couldn’t uncross, but I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. The need for him was overwhelming, consuming every rational thought until all that was left was the primal desire to be as close to him as possible.

Without thinking, I tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head in one swift motion. Minghao let out a soft grunt as the fabric slid over his skin, and then he was back on me, his lips finding mine again in a kiss that was hot and demanding. His bare chest pressed against mine, the heat of his skin almost too much to bear, but I craved it craved the way his body felt against mine, the way his touch sent shivers of pleasure through me.

His hands roamed my body with newfound urgency, sliding under my shirt and skimming over my bare skin. The feel of his fingers on my flesh was electric, sending waves of heat coursing through me. I gasped against his lips as he tugged my shirt up, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over my head and toss it aside. The cool air hit my exposed skin, but the warmth of his body pressed against mine made up for it, and I shivered at the sensation of his bare chest against me.

Minghao’s lips moved down to my collarbone, kissing and sucking at the skin there, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. Each one sent a thrill of pleasure through me, making me arch into him, desperate for more. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer, and I could feel the hard line of his body pressing against mine, the heat between us almost unbearable.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured against my skin, his voice thick with need. “I want to taste every inch of you… make you mine.”

His words sent a shiver of anticipation through me, and I moaned softly as his lips continued their path down my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His hands slid down to my waist, and I could feel his fingers trembling slightly as he hooked them under the waistband of my pants, tugging them down just enough to expose the skin of my hips.

“Minghao,” I gasped, my hands tangling in his hair as I pulled him closer, urging him on. Every touch, every kiss, made it harder to think, harder to remember that there were

Minghao’s hands gripped my hips with a hunger that mirrored the fire burning inside me. His breath was hot against my neck as his lips continued their assault, leaving a trail of heat and desire that made my entire body tremble. The cool surface of the wall pressed against my back, but I barely registered it as Minghao’s body closed in on mine, pushing me harder against the unyielding stone.

His fingers dug into my waist as he pulled me closer, his mouth moving lower, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the curve of my shoulder and down to the soft skin just above my collarbone. I could feel his breath hitch as he kissed me, the tension in his body palpable as if he was fighting to control the overwhelming need that pulsed between us.

I gasped when his teeth grazed my skin, followed by the warm wetness of his tongue as he soothed the bite. The contrast of sensations made me shudder, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him. I was completely lost in the moment, every rational thought drowned out by the intensity of my desire for him.

“Minghao…” I whispered his name, my voice shaky with the weight of everything I was feeling, but I couldn’t find the words to express what was happening inside me. I had never wanted someone so fiercely, so completely, and the way he was looking at me—like I was the only thing that mattered—only made it harder to think about anything else.

His hands slid up my sides, fingers tracing the lines of my ribs before settling just beneath my bra. The heat of his touch seared through me, sending jolts of electricity straight to my core. My breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just above my chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, each word dripping with a kind of raw need that made my heart race. His gaze flickered up to meet mine, dark and intense, and in that moment, I could see everything he was holding back, every ounce of restraint hanging by a thread.

I was powerless against the pull of him, my body responding to his touch with a kind of desperation I had never felt before. I arched into him, my hands sliding down his back, feeling the taut muscles shift beneath his skin as I pulled him closer. The heat between us was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, but I didn’t care. I wanted him, needed him, more than I had ever needed anything in my life.

His lips found mine again, this time with more urgency, more desperation. The kiss was hot and messy, filled with the kind of longing that had been building between us for far too long. I could feel the tension in his body, the way his hands trembled slightly as they roamed over my skin, like he was barely holding himself together.

“Minghao, please,” I gasped against his lips, my voice barely more than a whisper, but I knew he heard me. My fingers gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, all of him. Every inch of my skin burned with the need for more, my mind racing with the intensity of what was happening.

His hands moved with newfound urgency, sliding beneath the fabric of my bra and palming my breast, his touch sending a shockwave of pleasure through me that made me gasp. His thumb grazed over my hardened nipple, and I arched into him, a soft moan escaping my lips as the sensation rippled through me.

The way he touched me, with such reverence and desire, made my head spin. I had never felt this way before, like every inch of my body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with the need for him. Minghao groaned softly against my neck, his lips trailing down to my chest, kissing and nipping at my skin as his hand continued its slow, torturous exploration of my body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion as his lips hovered just above my breast. “I can’t stop… I don’t want to stop.”

Neither did I. My hands moved down his back, feeling the heat of his skin beneath my fingers, and I could feel the way his muscles tensed beneath my touch. His body was hard against mine, every inch of him pressed against me in a way that made it impossible to think about anything other than the overwhelming desire coursing through me.

His lips closed around my nipple, and I gasped, my head falling back against the wall as a wave of pleasure washed over me. He sucked gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive skin in a way that made my knees weak. My fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as I arched into him, my body craving every touch, every kiss.

“Minghao…” I moaned, my voice barely more than a whisper, but I knew he could hear the need in my voice, the desperation that matched his own. His hands moved lower, gripping my hips as he pressed his body harder against mine, his lips never leaving my skin.

I could feel the heat of him, the hardness of his desire pressing against me through the fabric of his jeans, and it only made the fire inside me burn hotter. My hands moved down his back, slipping beneath the waistband of his jeans and pulling him closer, needing to feel more of him, to close the distance between us.

He groaned against my skin, the sound vibrating through me and sending another jolt of pleasure straight to my core. His hands gripped my hips tighter, lifting me slightly off the ground as he pressed his body harder against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and the sensation of his body pressing against mine was almost too much to bear.

We were lost in each other, the world outside our hidden alcove fading into nothing as the heat between us consumed everything. His lips found mine again, kissing me with a kind of desperate intensity that made my heart race. Every touch, every kiss, was filled with the kind of passion that had been building between us for so long, and now that it had been unleashed, there was no going back.

His hands moved to the waistband of my pants, his fingers trembling slightly as he fumbled with the button. I could feel the urgency in his touch, the way his breath hitched as he finally managed to undo the button and slide his hand beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed against my skin, and I gasped, my body arching into his touch as a wave of pleasure washed over me.

“Minghao, please,” I moaned, my voice shaky with the weight of everything I was feeling. I needed him, needed to feel him, more than I had ever needed anything in my life.

He didn’t hesitate. His hand slipped lower, his fingers brushing against the wetness between my legs, and I gasped, my entire body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. His touch was gentle at first, teasing, but the desperation in his movements mirrored my own, and soon his fingers were sliding inside me, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me that made me cry out.

“Minghao…” I moaned, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved his hand with slow, torturous precision, each movement sending waves of pleasure through me that made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

His lips found mine again, kissing me with a kind of desperate need that made my head spin. Every touch, every kiss, made the fire between us burn hotter, until it felt like we would both be consumed by it. His fingers moved faster, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves that sent shockwaves of pleasure through me, and I was lost, completely and utterly lost in him.

I could feel the tension building inside me, the pressure mounting with every touch, every kiss, until I was teetering on the edge of something that felt like it would shatter me completely. Minghao’s breath was hot against my neck, his lips trailing kisses along my skin as his hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I can’t…” I gasped, my body trembling with the intensity of what was happening. “Minghao, I’m going to—”

Before I could finish the sentence, the pressure inside me snapped, and I was falling, free-falling into a wave of pleasure so intense that it took my breath away. My entire body tensed, every nerve ending alive with the sensation as I came apart in his arms, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I clung to him, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed over me.

Minghao groaned against my neck, his hand still moving inside me, drawing out every last bit of pleasure as I trembled in his arms. My breath came in ragged gasps, my heart racing as the intensity of the moment washed over me, leaving me feeling completely and utterly spent.

He pulled back slightly, his fingers slipping from inside me as he looked down at me, his eyes dark and filled with the same need that had driven everything between us. His lips were swollen from our kisses, his chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back, and I could see the tension in his body, the way his muscles trembled with the force of his desire.

“I need you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I need all of you.”

I didn’t hesitate. I reached for him, my hands fumbling with the button of his jeans as I pulled him closer, needing to feel him inside me, needing to lose myself in him completely.

My fingers worked frantically at the button of Minghao’s jeans, the urgency between us mounting as the intensity of the moment consumed everything else. His breath was ragged against my neck, hot and unsteady, and I could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles trembled with restraint as if he was barely holding himself together. I needed him, and judging by the way his hands roamed my body, the heat of his touch searing my skin, he needed me just as desperately.

The button finally gave way, and I tugged at his jeans, slipping my hands beneath the waistband, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. His body shuddered as I brushed against him, a low, throaty groan escaping his lips that made my pulse race. I could feel the hardness of him, the sheer need pulsing through him, matching the ache that had been building inside me for what felt like an eternity.

“Minghao…” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I was feeling. The sound of his name seemed to ground him for a moment, his gaze locking with mine, dark and filled with a hunger that made my knees weak.

His hands slid down my back, pulling me impossibly closer until our bodies were pressed flush against one another. The feeling of his skin on mine, the heat of him, sent shivers down my spine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him into another heated kiss, pouring every ounce of my longing into it. His lips moved against mine with a fervor that bordered on desperation, his hands gripping my hips, holding me against him as if letting go wasn’t an option.

“I can’t wait anymore,” he breathed against my lips, his voice rough, thick with need. His hands slid beneath my thighs, lifting me effortlessly as he pressed me harder against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist, and I could feel the length of him pressed between my thighs, the friction sending sparks of electricity shooting through me.

I gasped as his lips moved down to my neck again, biting and kissing the tender skin, leaving marks that were sure to bloom into bruises by morning. But in that moment, I didn’t care. All I could think about was him, the way he made me feel like I was burning from the inside out, consumed by a fire that threatened to swallow us both whole.

“Minghao, please…” I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair as he sucked at the base of my throat, his teeth grazing my skin in a way that sent a thrill of pleasure straight through me. My body arched into him, my hips grinding against his, and the friction was almost too much to bear. I needed more. I needed all of him.

He groaned low in his throat, his hands gripping me tighter as he shifted, his body pressing harder against mine. The air between us crackled with the kind of raw energy that had been building between us for so long, and now that we were here, there was no going back. Not after this. Not after the way we had finally given in to the inevitable pull between us.

With one swift motion, Minghao pushed down his jeans, and I could feel the heat of him, the weight of his desire pressing against me. My breath hitched in my throat as he adjusted, the anticipation sending my heart racing, my entire body trembling with need. His lips brushed against my ear, and I could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, waiting for my permission.

“Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his voice rough, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me you want me.”

The need in his voice mirrored my own, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “I want you,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of my confession. “I’ve always wanted you.”

That was all he needed. With a soft groan, he shifted, positioning himself at my entrance, and then, in one slow, deliberate motion, he pushed inside me. The sensation was overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that took my breath away. I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders as my body adjusted to the fullness of him, the way he filled me completely, like we were made to fit together.

Minghao’s breath came in ragged gasps as he buried himself inside me, his forehead pressed against mine, our eyes locked in a moment of shared intensity. I could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, waiting for me to catch my breath. But I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted all of him.

“Move,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, but he heard me. He always did.

With a groan, he pulled back, only to thrust into me again, harder this time, and the sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure through me that made my entire body tremble. I clung to him, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he set a rhythm, each thrust pushing me higher, closer to the edge of something that felt like it would shatter me completely.

“Minghao,” I moaned, my voice breathless, and the sound of his name seemed to spur him on. His movements became more urgent, more desperate, and I could feel the tension building inside me with every thrust, the pressure mounting to an unbearable level.

He kissed me again, his lips hot and demanding, his hands gripping my hips as he drove into me, each movement more intense than the last. I could feel the fire building inside me, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust, and I knew I was close so close.

“Minghao, I’m going to—” The words barely made it past my lips before the tension snapped, and I was falling, free-falling into a wave of pleasure so intense that it took my breath away. My entire body tensed, every nerve ending alive with the sensation as I came apart in his arms, my fingers digging into his shoulders as I clung to him, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed over me.

Minghao wasn’t far behind. With a few more erratic thrusts, he buried himself deep inside me, his body trembling as he reached his release, a low groan escaping his lips as he shuddered against me. His grip on me tightened, his forehead resting against mine as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, his breath coming in ragged gasps as we both struggled to catch our breath.

For a long moment, neither of us moved, our bodies still tangled together, pressed against the wall in the aftermath of what we had just done. The only sound was the heavy breathing that filled the small alcove, and the distant hum of the crowd still lingering outside.

Reality began to creep back in, the weight of what we had just done settling over me like a heavy blanket. My heart pounded in my chest, not just from the intensity of the moment, but from the realization of what this meant. Vernon… Joshua… the consequences that would come crashing down the moment we stepped out of this hidden corner of the world we had created for ourselves.

Minghao’s breath was warm against my skin as he slowly pulled back, his gaze meeting mine. There was a softness in his eyes now, a tenderness that hadn’t been there before, and it made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t explain. This was more than just desire. It had always been more, but now it was undeniable.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he finally pulled away, his hands resting on my hips as he slowly lowered me back to the ground. My legs felt shaky beneath me, my body still trembling from the intensity of the release, but Minghao was there, steadying me, his hands never leaving my body.

“I don’t want this to end,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a kind of vulnerability I hadn’t heard from him before. His fingers traced gentle patterns on my skin, and I could see the conflict in his eyes, the weight of everything we had just done hanging heavy between us.

But as much as I wanted to stay in this moment, to pretend that the world outside didn’t exist, I knew we couldn’t. This wasn’t just about the two of us. There were other people involved people we cared about, people we had just betrayed in the heat of the moment.

“I don’t either,” I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper as I looked up at him, my heart aching with the weight of the truth. “But we can’t stay here forever.”

Minghao’s jaw clenched, and I could see the struggle in his eyes, the same war that was raging inside me. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine, his breath shaky as he whispered, “What are we going to do?”

I didn’t have an answer for him. The truth was, I didn’t know. We had crossed a line we couldn’t uncross, and now we had to face the consequences—no matter how much it hurt.

But as I stood there, still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, I couldn’t bring myself to regret what had just happened. Minghao had awakened something inside me, something that had been buried for far too long. And even though the future seemed uncertain, even though the consequences loomed large, I knew one thing for sure: I couldn’t let go of this feeling. Not now. Not ever.

For now, in the quiet aftermath of the storm, I allowed myself to hold onto him just a little longer, to savor the way his body felt against mine, to drown in the warmth of his presence before we had to step back into the real world. Because once we did, everything would change.

(Ok well, i got carried away. Lollapalooza Minghao has me all types of fucked up today so I indulged in him) i hope you guys enjoy this. Let me know if you do ˙ᵕ˙ have a great day too

[ninja-muse]

The Dollmakers by Lynn Buchanan is the most original fantasy novel I've read in a good while. It doesn't follow a familiar plot structure. It's peopled by characters rarely seen but true to life. It tackles its issues, themes, and conundrums without turning them into morals or even necessarily reaching conclusions. The magic has been done before, but also not this way. The world, while familiar in some aspects, also feels fresh and different.

Did I like it? I'm not sure. But I definitely think it's worth picking up.

Because this book is so different, it's hard to encapsulate. The premise of a young woman determined to prove herself and gain the job and status she deserves sounds like it should launch a novel of revenge, of conquest, or of an underdog—but this doesn't. A story about magical dolls designed to fight ravening monsters sounds like it should be about great battles and increasing odds—but this isn't. This also isn't a story about a stranger upending a small town, or mentorship, or political conflicts, or even a mystery. Instead, there are elements of all those things, but this novel is too character-driven to fall neatly into boxes. Shean of Pearl is simply going to do what she thinks best and we're along for the journey.

The complexity of the plot is mirrored in its characters. Shean is capable of kindness and delicacy and righteous anger, but she's also tactless and self-absorbed and unwilling to listen to reason. There are brave characters too afraid to interact with society, kind mentors who fail in their mentorship, sour but welcoming villagers, wandering scholars who hold themselves apart until they don't, rule-abiding citizens who can't value originality, thoughtful people who come to snap judgements, and a host of other people who are flawed and complicated as anyone of us might be in their place. There's nobody I can point to and say, "Here, she relied entirely on a trope."* Buchanan's character work is arguably where this book shines most.

As for the themes and issues, I've grown used to fantasy and science fiction with clear morals, clear good guys, and clear political points. Again, this isn't that sort of book. You have to get well into it before you see what Buchanan's talking about on that level and she's more interested about raising questions and pointing out problems than she is in solving anything. We and her characters are left with things to think about, and with introspection. And no, I won't say more than that. Spoilers!

This isn't to say that this book is without flaw. Mostly, on that front, I found Shean's emotional journey a little sudden and jerky at points, with greater or quicker character growth than her personality led me to expect, and there's one particular moment near the beginning that felt exaggerated for the sake of demonstration rather than being true to character. The rest of my problems, and what's holding me back from saying, "This book was amazing!", I think stem from how different this book is. Is my grumble at that minor character's reaction due to weak writing or because they're so perfectly poised within their world that of course they don't act like a "normal" character? Is this plot line wrapping up too neatly or are we being set up for a sequel? That sort of thing. I should point out this is a debut novel and these are issues I've run into with debut novels before—but at the same time, this is much, much more polished and subtle than a lot of debuts are.

As for the magic and the world, I've run on too long to cover them much, but the doll magic is lovely, the monsters are fascinating, the idea that every nation has its own entirely separate culture and magic is familiar while the details are not, and in general, it's all very strong. Buchanan has a lot to play with and I'd happily read more in this world whether or not there's a direct sequel.

To sum up: this is a very strong, very interesting, very unique debut fantasy. It's a novel to mull over and one I'll be sorting through my feelings for. If you're interested in smaller fantasy stories, fantasies that take their time, or are tired of current fantasy trends and plot types, you should absolutely give this one a look. Buchanan's going to be an author to watch, I think.

* apart from third-tier non-speaking characters, like waiters or shopkeepers

[anonzentimes]

Hello!

What is your opinion on danganronpa 2.5?

hello anon! thank you SO MUCH letting me ramble!!! :)

I really do love Danganronpa 2.5, I think it's really cool that they explain more how everyone was waken up, I also adore that the plot is based off of statements in Danganronpa 2 only elaborating and exploring them more. Not only that, but they make it all about Nagito who's the same character that is complex enough to have three entire songs haha!! So it works out well.

2.5 reverses Nagito's luck cycle which makes it easier to understand and I really love it. It also adds the statement that truly Nagito would rather have his luck not harm others but rather help them and harm himself, there's also the detail that Nagito's luck is so prominent in his life that even in a world made by his subconscious it is always there. It also implies he deep down wishes talent didn't exist which is something he'd never admit or even know he felt with his unhealthy obsession and dedication with hope and the ultimates!!!

I really enjoy world destroyer too, I think his scenes are very interesting, like, ok man thanks for pulling up with your FINGER GUNS??? It's super cool!! His design is pretty interesting too even if it's just adding to Hajime's preexisting one.

I also like the detail that alongside Nagito's own death the memories that he remembers most vividly is Hajime's smile and his time with him which is just very sweet

The moments with Makoto and Sayaka being out of character because Nagito views them, especially Makoto, so highly is super funny too. Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko's friendship is also fun and something we don't get to see often! The background characters we get to see are also just very fun.

I find it really interesting that by swapping Nagito's belief with the opposite it's basically telling what the genuine issue is in their world because his beliefs stems from the flawed ideals of hope's peak. The issue in their world isn't the talentless, it's the talented. No one is happy, talentless people feel worthless, and being talented is exhausting in its own way. All of the social pressure of not being treated as humans being at its most extreme in this world is upsetting for most everyone.

also this Parallel makes me lose my MIND!!!!!!

Danganronpa 2.5 has a lot of REALLY good stuff going on for it, I think the only complaint I see about it is Nagito's "contradiction," which I'll talk a little bit about!

Basically, people like to point out that with Nagito's suicide plan he should have been more upset, "He never believed in Hajime though?"

I've seen a few pretty good interpretations of it, but the one I think makes most sense is that he was talking more to Izuru kamakura since he had gotten his memories back. Nagito's old and new memories merge together, he remembers pretty much everything. Which is why he sees Izuru first, then corrects himself seeing Hajime, and Hajime replies that they're both him.

Nagito then says he knew he'd make it to the lowest stratum, and that he believed in him. Basically saying that Izuru could do anything.

Maybe he believed the supposedly Bad luck from going into the Neo World Program would end up in Good luck? It's unclear a bit, but I definitely believe he's talking to Izuru a bit at the very least. Mostly because if he believed in Hajime in the killing game his luck cycle wouldn't have gone, good luck: the traitor was selected, bad luck: the plan didn't work and they lived.

Nagito has known Hajime and Izuru now and accepts him for who he is. It's honestly really sweet. Hajime himself has grown and accepts Nagito for who he is as well. They both forgive each other and it's just really sweet. They've been through a lot!

Overall little rambles aside, I think Danganronpa 2.5 is really lovely. It adds more to Nagito's character, tells more information about how the class woke up while using actual text from Danganronpa 2, and is just super fun! I love Danganronpa 2.5 a lot.

[songbirdseung]

bad boy, gone good / choi yeonjun

Choi Yeonjun — the epitome of a bad boy, known for his rebellious attitude and mysterious charm. His days were filled with the thrill of breaking rules, and his nights echoed with the adrenaline of living life on the edge.

Enter Y/N, a beacon of warmth and kindness, with a heart untarnished by the city's harsh realities. Fate intervened, weaving their destinies together in unexpected ways. When Y/N, the girl with a smile that could brighten the darkest corners, collided with Yeonjun's world, everything changed.

As their worlds collided, secrets unfolded, and the walls Yeonjun had built around himself began to crumble. Y/N's presence sparked a transformation in him, challenging the very essence of his rebellious nature. Can love be the catalyst for change?

Yeonjun's early years were marred by the harsh realities of an unforgiving environment. Growing up on the fringes of the city's underbelly, he witnessed firsthand the struggle for survival. Raised in a broken home, where love was a scarce commodity and instability was the only constant, he learned to navigate the tumultuous seas of his youth alone.

Fuelled by a hunger for control in a world that seemed determined to wrest it away, Yeonjun delved into the realm of defiance. The streets became his sanctuary, a place where rules were mere suggestions and boundaries blurred into shades of rebellion. His demeanor transformed, adopting an air of defiance and a reputation that sent shivers through the city's spine.

The allure of the night, with its neon glow and hidden corners, became Yeonjun's playground. Graffiti-covered walls and the distant wail of sirens provided the soundtrack to his tumultuous existence. He embraced the role of a bad boy with open arms, finding solace in the chaos that mirrored the storm within.

Yet, beneath the tough exterior and the smirks that hinted at a disregard for authority, there lay a complex soul. A boy who had grown up too fast, who yearned for stability amid the turbulence of his surroundings. The bad boy persona was both armor and camouflage, shielding the vulnerabilities that lurked beneath the surface.

The memory of that encounter lingered, a pivotal moment where the trajectory of Yeonjun's life shifted. The streets, once witnesses to his rebellion, became a canvas for transformation. In the tapestry of his past, that cold night held a defining thread—a thread that hinted at a yearning for something beyond the confines of the city's chaos, a yearning that would eventually lead him to an unexpected encounter with warmth and kindness, the likes of which he had never known before.

Yeonjun found himself on the familiar concrete steps of an abandoned building, the remnants of shattered glass and graffiti-covered walls bearing witness to the desolation that mirrored his own existence. The city slept, but not Yeonjun. His restless spirit roamed the streets like a lone wolf searching for purpose.

As he sat there, contemplating the harsh truths of his life, the echoes of raised voices and slammed doors reverberated in his mind. Flashbacks of a tumultuous household, where love was a scarce commodity and stability a distant dream, played like a haunting melody.

That night marked the breaking point, the moment Yeonjun decided to escape the suffocating embrace of his turbulent home. The city's heartbeat became his guide, and he embraced the streets with an air of defiance, determined to carve out a space where he could breathe.

In current time, the night air was thick with the energy of rebellion as Yeonjun, accompanied by his fellow comrades in mischief, ventured into the heart of the city. The neon lights painted the streets with vibrant hues, reflecting the chaos and vibrancy that fueled their nightly escapades.

Yeonjun's friends each carrying their unique brand of defiance, joined him in this ritual of rebellion. Beomgyu, with his mischievous grin, Taehyun with an air of nonchalance, Soobin radiating quiet intensity, and Huening Kai exuding youthful exuberance—this band of brothers made the city their playground.

The night unfolded in a series of reckless adventures, a collage of moments that defined their camaraderie. They spray-painted walls with vibrant colors, leaving their mark on the city's canvas. The distant sound of music wafted through the air as they danced in abandoned alleyways, an impromptu celebration of freedom.

Yeonjun, the orchestrator of this nocturnal symphony, led his friends through the labyrinth of the urban jungle. They scaled fences, traversed rooftops, and embraced the thrill of the unknown. Each daring feat was met with laughter and shared glances that spoke volumes—a silent understanding that this night was a manifestation of their collective rebellion against the mundane.

Amid the chaos, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. The city, once his refuge from a turbulent past, had transformed into a playground of shared adventures. Yet, there lingered a subtle shift in dynamics, an undercurrent of change that hinted at a journey beyond the recklessness.

As the night wore on, they found themselves perched on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the city sprawled beneath them like a glittering tapestry. The collective laughter echoed in the silence that followed, and Yeonjun's gaze drifted to the horizon, where the first light of dawn painted the sky.

In that moment, surrounded by the camaraderie of friends who had become his chosen family, Yeonjun felt a subtle reassessment of his rebellious pursuits. The thrill of the night was undeniable, but there was a whisper of something more—a yearning for depth, for meaning, and perhaps, for a different kind of rebellion that extended beyond the shadows of the city.

As they descended from their lofty perch, the echoes of their nightly escapades still reverberating, Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling that this journey, shared with those who understood the language of rebellion, was on the cusp of a transformative chapter—one where the shadows of the past might find solace in the light of unexpected futures.

The night hung heavy with the scent of salt and the rhythmic lullaby of crashing waves as the boys of TXT gathered on the beach. The sand beneath their feet felt cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the day's rebellious escapades. The moon cast a gentle glow on the water, and the city's distant lights shimmered like distant stars.

As they settled into the makeshift circle they'd formed, the atmosphere was charged with a unique blend of camaraderie and introspection. The sound of the waves provided a natural soundtrack to the quiet moments, punctuated by occasional laughter that echoed against the vast expanse of the ocean.

Yeonjun, gazing at the horizon, broke the silence, his voice carrying a reflective tone. "You ever wonder where we'll be in a few years? What we'll be doing?"

The question lingered in the air, prompting thoughtful glances exchanged among the group. Soobin, the silent contemplator, spoke up, "I mean, we're living this wild life now, but what about the future? Are we just running from something or toward something?"

Beomgyu, who usually wore a carefree grin, chimed in, "Life's one big adventure, right? But what if we're missing out on something important along the way?"

Huening Kai, always the beacon of youthful energy, added, "I never thought about it like that. What if we're letting the thrill of the present distract us from the potential of the future?"

As the conversation deepened, the beach transformed into a confessional of sorts. Each member shared their aspirations, fears, and the weight of expectations they carried. The moonlit night became a canvas for vulnerability, and the camaraderie they'd built was the brush that painted the tapestry of their shared journey.

Taehyun, usually reserved, spoke softly, "Sometimes I wonder if the choices we make today will define who we become tomorrow. Are we building a foundation or just stacking up uncertainties?"

The vulnerability in his words hung in the air, and a collective sigh seemed to escape the group. Yeonjun, looking at each of his friends, felt a sense of gratitude for the shared vulnerability that turned their nightly escapade into a poignant moment of reflection.

In the quietude that followed, the waves continued their rhythmic dance, a reminder of the ever-flowing nature of time. The boys, surrounded by the serenity of the beach, found solace in the shared realization that life's journey was a delicate balance between the thrill of the present and the unknown promise of the future.

As they stood up to leave, the moon casting long shadows on the sand, there was a subtle shift in the air. The beach, once a backdrop for rebellion and laughter, had become a canvas for contemplation—a place where friendships deepened, and the echoes of the night lingered as a reminder that every choice, every adventure, held the potential to shape the narratives of their lives.

--

The morning sun painted hues of warmth across Seoul, casting a soft glow into Yeonjun's apartment. As he blinked away the remnants of sleep, a lingering sense of introspection from the previous night clung to his thoughts. The beach conversations, the shared vulnerabilities—all echoed in his mind like a gentle reminder of the potential for change.

Yeonjun sat up, his gaze drifting to the cityscape outside his window. The morning held promise, a clean slate waiting to be written with new choices and perspectives. The weight of the past lingered, but the desire for transformation stirred within him.

A tentative resolution formed in his mind. "Maybe it's time for a change," he mused, the words carrying a whisper of determination. Yeonjun envisioned a different trajectory, one that embraced growth, stability, and a departure from the reckless patterns that had defined his life.

But as the day unfolded, the stressors of reality pressed upon him—deadlines, expectations, the constant hum of the city demanding attention. The allure of his old haunts, the familiar thrill of rebellion, seemed like an escape from the complexities of change.

In the face of mounting pressure, Yeonjun found himself retracing the steps of his past. The city welcomed him with open arms, the neon lights and graffiti-covered walls a comforting familiarity. The adrenaline of rebellion called out, promising a temporary respite from the weight of uncertainty.

Hours passed in a blur of graffiti, daring escapades, and the intoxicating thrill of defiance. The city's heartbeat matched the rhythm of his footsteps, and the echoes of the night played out like a familiar song. In the midst of chaos, Yeonjun sought solace, a fleeting escape from the internal conflict that tugged at his soul.

As the moon reclaimed the sky, Yeonjun, standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, felt a mix of emotions. The temporary euphoria of the night's escapades masked the underlying conflict within. The city's shadows, once a refuge, now mirrored the complexities of his own journey.

In the quiet hours before dawn, as the city slept and Yeonjun stood alone, the weight of his choices settled upon him. The desire for change, the yearning for a different path, clashed with the allure of the familiar. The morning sun would soon rise, and with it, the echoes of the night would fade into the reality of a new day—one where the trajectory of Yeonjun's life remained uncertain, hanging in the delicate balance between the past and the potential for a different, yet uncharted, future.

The night wore on, and the city's pulse beat steadily with the rhythm of rebellion. Yeonjun, still caught in the throes of his old habits, found himself stumbling into a dimly lit bar—a haven for those seeking refuge from the chaos outside. The air inside was thick with the hum of conversations, clinking glasses, and the distant melodies of a live band.

As Yeonjun settled onto a barstool, the atmosphere of the place embraced him like an old friend. The bartender, a grizzled man with a weathered smile, poured a shot without needing a request. The amber liquid seemed to carry the weight of countless stories, each sip a silent acknowledgment of the night's tumult.

In the corner of the room, a spotlight illuminated a small stage where a singer crooned a soulful ballad, her voice a comforting melody in the midst of the cacophony. Yeonjun, lost in the ambiance, barely noticed the figure approaching him.

"Rough night?" A voice, tinged with empathy, cut through the ambient noise. Yeonjun looked up to find the hostess, Y/N, standing beside him, her eyes reflecting a curious mixture of concern and understanding.

He offered a half-smile, a gesture that held a hint of weariness. "You could say that. Just trying to escape for a bit."

Y/N nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken struggles that often brought people to the dim corners of the bar. "We all have our reasons for seeking refuge here."

As the night unfolded, the conversation between Yeonjun and Y/N flowed effortlessly. The clinking of glasses and the distant melodies became the backdrop to their exchange. Y/N, with a warmth that transcended the dimly lit surroundings, shared snippets of her own journey—the dreams she harbored, the challenges she faced, and the beauty she found in the small moments.

Yeonjun, typically guarded, felt a subtle vulnerability in her presence. The night, once a canvas for rebellion, transformed into a space for shared stories and connection. The weight of uncertainty, which had driven him to the familiar haunts of the city, seemed to momentarily lift.

As the clock ticked away, and the night began to wane, Yeonjun found himself captivated by the genuine nature of the conversation. In the midst of the city's chaos, he discovered a moment of respite and connection—one that hinted at the potential for a different kind of escape, one not rooted in rebellion, but in the shared understanding and warmth of unexpected connections.

As the night unfolded, and Y/N's laughter resonated in the air, a subtle shift occurred within Yeonjun. The dimly lit bar, once a refuge from the complexities of his world, now harbored the potential for something different—a connection that went beyond the neon-lit rebellious escapades.

In the midst of their conversation, a quiet realization dawned on him. Y/N's presence was more than just a temporary distraction; it was a gentle tug at the strings of his guarded heart. Her warmth, the sincerity in her eyes, and the authenticity with which she shared her stories created a bridge between their worlds.

As Y/N spoke about her dreams, her challenges, and the beauty she found in life's small moments, Yeonjun found himself drawn to more than just the words. It was the way her eyes sparkled with passion, the genuine laughter that danced through the air, and the subtle nuances of her expressions that etched themselves into his consciousness.

He couldn't help but marvel at the contrast between the chaos of the city outside and the serenity he felt in Y/N's presence. The night, once a canvas for rebellion, now unfolded as a tapestry of shared stories and unspoken connections. The music played on, a soft melody that underscored the intimate exchange between them.

In the quiet pauses between their words, Yeonjun's thoughts danced on the precipice of realization. He was attracted to more than just the allure of the city's shadows; he was drawn to the light that Y/N brought into his world. Her authenticity, the way she navigated life with a genuine spirit, resonated with a part of him that had long been buried beneath layers of rebellion.

As he stole glances, catching the subtle play of emotions on her face, Yeonjun acknowledged the stirring of something unfamiliar. It wasn't just attraction; it was a recognition of the potential for a connection that transcended the transient thrill of the night.

Yet, amid the subtle allure of this realization, uncertainty lingered. Yeonjun grappled with the juxtaposition of his rebellious nature and the yearning for something more profound. The night may have been a temporary escape, but in the presence of Y/N, he found himself confronting a truth that hinted at a different kind of escape—one rooted in the genuine connection and the uncharted territories of the heart.

The bar's ambiance hummed around them, the murmur of conversations and the soft melodies providing a comforting backdrop to Yeonjun and Y/N's shared connection. As they settled into a lull in the conversation, Yeonjun couldn't help but steer the dialogue toward the uncharted territories of personal preferences.

"So, Y/N," he began, a playful twinkle in his eyes, "what kind of guys are you into? Bad boys, perhaps?"

Y/N chuckled, a warmth in her expression that mirrored the sincerity in her words. "You know, Yeonjun, I've learned not to judge someone based on appearances or stereotypes. Whether they're a 'bad boy' or a 'good boy,' it doesn't matter to me. What's important is the connection, the compatibility. That's what makes someone attractive in my eyes."

Her words hung in the air, carrying a wisdom that transcended the casual banter. Yeonjun, caught off guard by the depth of her response, felt a subtle reassurance wash over him. It was as if Y/N's perspective lifted a weight he didn't realize he was carrying.

She continued, her gaze meeting his with a genuine sincerity, "People are so much more than the labels we give them. It's about understanding who they are, what they value, and finding that connection that goes beyond surface judgments."

Yeonjun nodded, a newfound appreciation for Y/N's perspective settling within him. The weight of his own self-imposed labels, the confines of being a "bad boy," felt a little less constricting in the face of her understanding.

"That's a refreshing way to look at things," he admitted, a genuine smile forming on his lips. "Sometimes, it's easy to get caught up in those labels and forget that there's so much more to a person."

Y/N's smile mirrored his own, a shared understanding passing between them. In that moment, the barriers of judgment and preconceived notions melted away, leaving room for a connection that went beyond the surface. The night continued, the ebb and flow of conversation carrying with it the promise of a connection built on authenticity and shared perspectives—something that felt, for both Yeonjun and Y/N, refreshingly real amid the transient thrill of the city's night.

--

A week had passed, and the bar that had become a refuge for Yeonjun seemed unusually devoid of Y/N's presence. Night after night, he found himself scanning the dimly lit space, hoping to catch a glimpse of her warm smile and engage in the conversations that had become a source of comfort.

However, fate seemed to play a coy game, and Y/N remained elusive. The absence of her laughter, the missing warmth in her eyes, left a void that echoed in the silent corners of Yeonjun's thoughts.

His friends, the members of TXT, couldn't help but notice the change in Yeonjun's demeanor. The usual twinkle in his eyes was replaced by a subtle hint of melancholy, and the playful banter that characterized his interactions with them took on a more subdued tone.

One evening, as they gathered in the living room of their shared space, Beomgyu couldn't resist teasing. "Hey, Yeonjun, what's with the long face? Did the bad boy finally meet his match?"

Taehyun chimed in with a sly grin, "Yeah, you've been looking a bit too contemplative lately. Is there a love story brewing in the shadows?"

Yeonjun, caught off guard by the sudden attention, sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like that. I've just been trying to see Y/N at the bar, but she's never there when I am. She's a part-timer, and our schedules don't seem to align lately."

Soobin, always the voice of reason, leaned forward with a knowing smile. "Ah, the mysterious part-timer. Yeonjun's got a soft spot for her."

The room erupted in laughter, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes, his attempts to brush off the teasing met with playful persistence. Huening Kai, ever the optimist, added fuel to the fire. "Lover boy Yeonjun! Who would've thought?"

As the banter continued, Yeonjun found himself opening up to his friends about the connection he felt with Y/N. The laughter transformed into genuine curiosity as they listened to the subtle nuances of his encounters with her at the bar.

Beomgyu, with a mischievous grin, declared, "Looks like our bad boy is turning into a romantic. Who would've seen that coming?"

--

As Yeonjun strolled through the bustling streets, the echoes of his friends' teasing still resonating in his mind, he found himself drawn to the familiar hustle and bustle of a nearby mall. The rhythmic hum of shoppers, the vibrant displays in store windows, and the scent of various cuisines mingled in the air.

Amid the crowd, a flash of familiarity caught his attention. There, across the bustling walkway, was Y/N. She navigated the mall with a sense of purpose, her presence standing out amidst the diverse sea of shoppers.

A rush of anticipation coursed through Yeonjun as he approached her. "Y/N!" he called out, his voice cutting through the ambient noise.

She turned, a surprised yet warm smile spreading across her face. "Yeonjun! What a pleasant surprise. What brings you here?"

He shrugged casually, the teasing banter from his friends still fresh in his mind. "Just taking a stroll, you know. Happened to stumble upon this place. What about you? Shopping spree?"

Y/N chuckled, her eyes lighting up with genuine warmth. "Not really. Just running errands and grabbing a quick bite. Care to join me?"

As they walked together through the mall, the atmosphere shifted from the casual banter of their bar conversations to the lighthearted exchange one might expect from friends catching up. The city's chaos faded into the background as they explored the various stores and shared stories about their day.

Y/N's easygoing nature and the genuine connection they shared created a sense of comfort that transcended the initial allure of the night. As they reached a quaint café tucked away in a corner of the mall, Yeonjun found himself appreciating the simplicity of the moment—a chance encounter that felt like more than just a casual run-in.

As they sat, sipping on their drinks and exchanging stories, Yeonjun realized that sometimes, the most meaningful connections can be found in the unlikeliest of places. The mall, once a backdrop for the city's daily rhythm, became the setting for a different kind of encounter—one that hinted at the potential for a connection beyond the dimly lit corners of a bar or the playful banter of friends.

In that moment, as they shared laughter and conversation, Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of curiosity about the unfolding chapters of their connection—a connection that, like the city itself, held the promise of unexpected discoveries and the potential for something more than meets the eye.

As the conversation flowed and laughter echoed through the cozy café, Yeonjun felt a surge of courage welling up within him. The warmth of the moment, the genuine connection with Y/N, emboldened him to take a step beyond the casual encounters of the bar and mall.

Summoning the strength, he cleared his throat and, with a sheepish yet sincere smile, asked, "Hey, Y/N, I was thinking… would you mind if I got your number? Maybe we could hang out sometime, like, properly?"

Y/N's eyes twinkled with amusement, and a playful grin danced on her lips. "About time, Yeonjun. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever ask."

Embarrassed yet relieved, he chuckled, "Well, you know, bad boys gotta be careful with their tender hearts."

They exchanged numbers, the promise of a new connection etched in the digits on their screens. Yeonjun couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the next day—a hangout that held the potential to explore the nuances of their connection beyond the confines of the city's night.

As they parted ways, the warmth of the cafe lingered in the air, and Yeonjun couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter marked a turning point. The city, with its chaotic rhythm and unexpected twists, seemed to be orchestrating a unique chapter in his life—one where a simple hangout held the potential to unravel layers of connection and redefine the narratives of his rebellious heart.

--

The next day dawned with the familiar energy of Seoul's bustling streets. The TXT members gathered in their shared space, a routine invitation to embark on their usual escapades hanging in the air. Soobin, the de facto planner of their adventures, couldn't help but extend the invitation.

"Hey, guys, what do you say we hit the usual spots today? Paint the town with our rebellious spirit?" Soobin suggested, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

However, Yeonjun, with a subtle smile playing on his lips, spoke up, "I think I'll pass today, guys. Got something else on my agenda."

A collective eyebrow raise from the group accompanied Soobin's teasing tone. "Oh, really? Got a hot date or something, lover boy?"

Yeonjun, unfazed, nodded with a smirk. "You could say that. Just something casual."

As he walked away, leaving a curious group of friends in his wake, the echoes of their laughter followed him. The playful teasing resonated through the space, and Soobin couldn't resist making one last comment before Yeonjun disappeared into his room.

"Looks like our bad boy has caught the love bug. Who would've thought?" Soobin quipped, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the remaining members.

In his room, Yeonjun couldn't help but smile at the banter of his friends. The usual rebellious pursuits were set aside for a different kind of adventure—one that involved the anticipation of a friendly hangout with Y/N. As he got ready for the day, he couldn't shake the feeling that this departure from their routine held the promise of something meaningful, a chapter in his life that unfolded beyond the city's night and the echoes of his rebellious past.

In the dimly lit corners of a Seoul nightclub, the atmosphere pulsed with energy, and the echoes of laughter and music filled the air. Yeonjun, known for his magnetic charm and carefree persona, moved through the crowd with an effortless swagger that drew attention like moths to a flame.

In this scene, we find ourselves in a moment from Yeonjun's past—a time when he was the quintessential heartbreaker, a playboy who reveled in the thrill of transient connections. His reputation preceded him, and many were lured by the enigma that surrounded him.

As he danced with someone new every night and left a trail of broken hearts in his wake, there was a certain intoxication in the fleeting encounters and the admiration he received. The city's lights, reflecting in the eyes of those who sought his attention, seemed to validate the reckless pursuit of pleasure.

However, amid the dance floor's pulsating rhythm and the haze of nightlife, there were moments when Yeonjun, in the quiet solitude of his thoughts, felt a twinge of emptiness. The very charm that drew others to him became a barrier, shielding him from the depth of genuine connections.

The flashbacks are a montage of shared glances, whispered promises, and the ephemeral nature of his interactions. In each scene, we see glimpses of the playboy persona, the facade that hid a sense of hollowness.

Cut to the present day, and Yeonjun, as he prepares for a different kind of encounter with Y/N, finds himself dwelling on those moments of his past. The weight of his playboy reputation, the regret for the hearts he left in his wake, lingers in the recesses of his consciousness.

As he faces the present with a desire for meaningful connections, the echoes of his playboy days serve as a backdrop—a reminder of the journey that brought him to this point of reflection and the potential for growth and redemption.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the city, Yeonjun and Y/N found themselves in the heart of Seoul, ready for a hangout that promised to be different from their usual encounters.

They decided to explore the city's hidden gems, away from the neon-lit corners and pulsating beats of the nightlife. The evening air carried a sense of anticipation as they strolled through quaint streets, exchanging stories and laughter.

Their connection, once confined to the dimly lit bar and the casual encounters of the mall, deepened in the midst of shared experiences. They discovered shared interests, laughed at each other's jokes, and engaged in conversations that flowed effortlessly.

As they explored a cozy café tucked away in a quiet alley, the ambiance echoed the genuine warmth of their connection. The clinking of coffee cups and the distant hum of the city formed a comforting backdrop to their shared moments.

In this setting, Yeonjun felt a departure from the playboy persona of his past. The genuine connection he sought, the desire for meaningful moments, unfolded in the simple yet profound exchange of stories and laughter. The city, once a playground for his rebellious pursuits, became a canvas for a different kind of adventure—one that involved the exploration of authentic connections and the unraveling of his own layers.

As the evening unfolded, Yeonjun couldn't help but appreciate the shift in dynamics. The heartbreaker of his past found solace in the simplicity of the present—a friendly hangout that held the potential for something more profound.

For Y/N, the night held a similar sentiment. The playful banter of their past encounters transformed into a shared understanding, and the laughter that echoed through the streets became a testament to the budding connection between two individuals navigating the complexities of their own journeys.

Amidst the soothing ambiance of the café, Yeonjun found a moment to open up to Y/N. The warmth of their connection had already surpassed the transient encounters of the past, and he felt a genuine desire to share his thoughts with her.

"Y/N," he began, his gaze sincere and vulnerable, "there's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I've been living this kind of… reckless life, you know? The playboy, heartbreaker image—it's not really who I want to be anymore."

Y/N listened attentively, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and encouragement. "It's never easy realizing you want to change, but it's a brave step to take," she replied, her voice gentle yet reassuring.

Yeonjun sighed, the weight of his past choices palpable in his words. "I've been concerned about where my current behaviors might lead me. I want something more meaningful, something that goes beyond the surface. I'm just not sure how to navigate it all."

Y/N offered a comforting smile, her words carrying a wisdom that resonated with empathy. "Change is a process, Yeonjun. It's about taking small steps, setting intentions, and being patient with yourself. You don't have to figure it all out at once. What matters is that you're aware of your desires for change and that you're willing to work towards it."

Her advice struck a chord with Yeonjun, a sense of gratitude swelling within him. "You're right. I don't have to rush things. It's just that… I've seen the consequences of my past actions, and I don't want to keep heading down that path."

Y/N nodded, her expression understanding. "Acknowledging that is the first step. And you're not alone in this journey. Surround yourself with people who support your growth, set realistic goals, and be kind to yourself along the way. Change takes time, but it's worth it if it aligns with the person you want to become."

As the conversation unfolded, Yeonjun felt a newfound sense of support and understanding. Y/N's words became a guiding light, illuminating a path towards self-discovery and growth. In her presence, he realized that the city, with its myriad possibilities, offered not only the echoes of the past but also the potential for transformation and a future aligned with the authenticity he sought.

The shared laughter and conversations took on a deeper meaning. Yeonjun, grateful for the connection he found in Y/N, looked towards the future with a sense of hope and determination—a departure from the playboy heartbreaker, and a step towards the person he aspired to be.

As they parted ways that night, the promise of future hangouts lingered in the air. Yeonjun, reflecting on the evening's events, realized that the city, with its myriad possibilities, was still full of surprises—a place where the echoes of his past were met with the potential for growth, connection, and the discovery of something more meaningful than the transient allure of his playboy days.

--

The night's gentle embrace lingered as Yeonjun returned home to the shared space where the members of TXT resided. The camaraderie of their friendship had weathered the storms of rebellion, and as he stepped through the door, he felt a sense of unity that encouraged him to share his thoughts with his friends.

Gathering the members in the living room, Yeonjun's expression held a mix of vulnerability and determination. "Hey, guys, there's something I've been thinking about. I've realized that maybe it's time for some changes in our lives, you know? Slowly, but surely."

The room fell into a thoughtful silence as the other members, each absorbed in their own contemplations, looked at Yeonjun with a mix of curiosity and support. Soobin, always the grounded leader, nodded encouragingly. "What kind of changes are you thinking, Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun took a deep breath before continuing, "I've been living a certain way, and it's been fun, but I can't help feeling like it's not sustainable. I want more from life, from our experiences. Maybe we can start making choices that lead to growth, connections, and something more meaningful."

The atmosphere in the room shifted, a shared understanding permeating the air. Beomgyu chimed in, "I've been feeling something similar. It's like we've been dancing to the same rhythm, and maybe it's time for a new tune."

Taehyun added with a thoughtful nod, "Change can be good, as long as we're doing it for the right reasons. What are you thinking, Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun, appreciative of the support from his friends, shared his reflections about wanting to shed the playboy image and embrace a more meaningful lifestyle. The room became a space for openness and vulnerability, each member contributing their thoughts and desires for change.

Soobin, with a reassuring smile, spoke, "I think it's a great idea. We've grown together, and this could be the next chapter for us. Let's support each other in making positive changes and explore the new possibilities that come our way."

As the conversation unfolded, the members of TXT found themselves in a collective agreement—a pact to embark on a journey of growth and change together. The echoes of their past, marked by rebellion and carefree pursuits, now harmonized with the potential for a future filled with genuine connections and meaningful experiences.

In that shared moment, surrounded by the support of true friends, Yeonjun felt a sense of relief and optimism for the transformative path that lay ahead—a departure from the old ways, and a step towards a future built on mutual support, understanding, and the enduring bonds of their friendship.

--

On Y/N's free day, Yeonjun took the initiative to introduce her to the members of TXT. The shared space buzzed with excitement as introductions were made, and Y/N's warm demeanor quickly endeared her to the group.

Yeonjun, ever the showman, decided to give a grand introduction. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet the fabulous Y/N, the one who's going to save us from our rebellious ways!"

Beomgyu, with a mischievous grin, added, "The one who will turn us from bad boys to good guys. Or at least try."

Y/N, amused by the theatrics, curtsied playfully, "Well, hello, gentlemen. I'm here for the challenge!"

As they all sat down, the atmosphere shifted from grand introductions to more casual banter. Soobin, the group's natural leader, decided to break the ice with a friendly question. "So, Y/N, what brings you into the chaotic world of TXT?"

Y/N, with a twinkle in her eye, replied, "Oh, just felt like I needed a little more chaos in my life. Thought you guys could use some company."

The boys erupted into laughter, realizing they were in for a day full of unexpected surprises. Taehyun, always the observant one, couldn't help but comment, "I have a feeling we're in for an interesting time with you around."

The conversation continued with jokes, playful teasing, and Y/N effortlessly blending into the camaraderie of the group. Huening Kai, intrigued by the dynamic, chimed in with a humorous question, "So, Y/N, what's your superpower? How do you plan to tame the chaos?"

Y/N, with a mock-serious expression, replied, "Well, I have the incredible ability to turn rebellious boys into gentlemen with just a smile. It's a work in progress."

The boys burst into laughter, realizing that Y/N's presence brought not only a mission of positive change but also a healthy dose of humor and lightheartedness. Throughout the day, they discovered that Y/N's superpower wasn't just in her ability to suggest positive changes but also in her knack for turning even the most serious moments into opportunities for laughter and connection.

As the day unfolded, the shared jokes and funny anecdotes became the glue that bonded them together. Y/N, with her infectious laughter and playful spirit, seamlessly became a part of the group—a friend who not only saw the potential for positive change but also knew how to make the journey enjoyable along the way.

With a genuine smile, Y/N proposed, "How about we make today a day of trying new things? I've got a few activities in mind that might be a fun change of pace."

The boys, always up for an adventure, agreed enthusiastically. Throughout the day, Y/N curated a series of activities designed to replace their rebellious habits with more constructive and fulfilling pursuits.

She started with a visit to an art studio, encouraging them to channel their creativity onto canvases rather than expressing it through reckless actions. Beomgyu, who had a knack for artistic expression, found a new passion for painting, while Kai discovered the therapeutic benefits of sculpting.

Next, Y/N led them to a community garden, where they tried their hands at planting and nurturing flowers. The act of tending to living things replaced their destructive tendencies with a sense of responsibility and care. Soobin, who initially questioned the choice, found solace in the simplicity of gardening.

Lunchtime was an opportunity for Y/N to get to know each member on a personal level. She attentively listened to their individual goals and aspirations, taking note of every detail. Over meals, she subtly integrated conversations about healthier habits and positive lifestyle changes.

In the afternoon, they visited a local gym, where Y/N introduced them to various exercises and fitness routines. Taehyun, who enjoyed the adrenaline rush of rebellion, found a new outlet in the intensity of a workout. It became evident that Y/N had tailored each activity to address the unique interests and needs of each member.

As the day unfolded, Y/N's ability to understand and connect with the members became increasingly apparent. She acknowledged the little details, the personal goals, and the reactions to different activities. For Yeonjun, she suggested activities that channeled his energy into a constructive outlet, away from the reckless pursuits of the past.

The day ended with a cozy dinner where Y/N shared her observations and suggestions for positive changes. The members, initially skeptical, found themselves inspired by Y/N's thoughtful approach. The city, once a canvas for rebellion, became a space for growth, understanding, and the potential for a future built on healthier choices and genuine connections.

As they bid farewell to Y/N that evening, the members of TXT carried with them a newfound sense of optimism and the seeds of change that had been planted throughout the day—a departure from their old ways and a step towards a future filled with purpose, growth, and the unwavering support of a friend who saw the best in each of them.

Later, TXT gathered for dinner, the playful atmosphere lingered from the day's activities. Beomgyu, known for his mischievous side, couldn't resist the opportunity to stir things up a bit. A sly grin played on his lips as he exchanged knowing glances with the other members.

"So, guys," Beomgyu began, his tone deviously casual, "I've been thinking… Y/N is really cool, right?"

Taehyun and Soobin exchanged amused glances, fully aware of Beomgyu's mischievous intent. Huening Kai, always up for a bit of fun, nodded eagerly. "Yeah, she's pretty awesome. Don't you think, Yeonjun?"

Yeonjun, unsuspecting and caught up in the positive energy of the day, looked up from his plate. "Oh, definitely. Y/N is great."

Beomgyu, seizing the opportunity, leaned in with a mock-confessional tone. "You know, I was thinking… maybe I should ask her out."

The room fell into a sudden hush as everyone turned their attention to Beomgyu. Soobin, trying to suppress a smile, asked, "Really? Beomgyu, are you serious?"

Beomgyu, maintaining his poker face, nodded. "Yeah, she's just got this… I don't know, something about her. I can't help it. I think I'm falling for Y/N."

The words hung in the air, and Yeonjun's eyes widened in surprise. Beomgyu, relishing the moment, continued, "What do you think, Yeonjun? Should I go for it? I mean, you did say she's cool."

Yeonjun, caught off guard, stammered, "Uh, well, I mean, if you think you like her, go for it. It's not like I have a say in it."

The room erupted in laughter as Beomgyu revealed the prank. "Gotcha, Yeonjun! Just wanted to see your reaction. You should've seen your face!"

Yeonjun, a mix of relief and amusement, playfully rolled his eyes. "You guys are unbelievable. I can't believe you pulled a prank on me like that."

--

A year had passed since the transformative day when Y/N entered the lives of the members of TXT, bringing with her a mission of positive change and growth. Now, as they gathered in their shared space, the room resonated with a different energy—a sense of purpose, ambition, and the unwavering support of true friendship.

The boys had evolved into different versions of themselves, each actively working towards personal goals that reflected their newfound determination. Beomgyu, once the mischievous troublemaker, had channeled his creativity into a successful art venture. Taehyun, always the thoughtful one, had found fulfillment in pursuing a career aligned with his passion for helping others. Soobin, the natural leader, had taken on new responsibilities with grace and determination. Huening Kai and Yeonjun had both discovered their unique paths, each contributing to the overall growth and success of the group.

In the midst of these positive changes, Yeonjun and Y/N had found solace and strength in each other. Their connection had deepened over shared dreams, challenges, and a commitment to support each other's personal journeys. What started as a mission to change rebellious ways had transformed into a meaningful and loving relationship.

--

The night was calm, the city outside their window settling into a serene rhythm. Yeonjun and Y/N lay side by side in the dimly lit room, their conversations flowing seamlessly from one topic to another. The ambiance held a sense of tranquility, punctuated by shared laughter and the comforting hum of the city.

As they spoke about dreams, aspirations, and the little moments that had defined their journey together, the conversation naturally gravitated towards the topic that held a special place in both their hearts—their relationship. Yeonjun, with a sincerity in his voice, expressed, "You know, I never thought a simple mission to change our ways would lead to this. To us."

Y/N smiled, tracing patterns on Yeonjun's hand. "Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it? I wouldn't have it any other way."

They spoke of the challenges they had overcome, the growth they had experienced, and the unspoken understanding that bound them together. In the quiet of the night, their words became a shared journey—a testament to the depth of their connection.

As the conversation settled into a comfortable silence, Yeonjun leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, carrying the weight of shared experiences and the promise of many more to come. Pulling back, they exchanged smiles, their eyes reflecting a deep understanding that words couldn't fully capture.

With a tender embrace, they settled into the cozy cocoon of their shared bed. The city outside may have been alive with its own stories, but in that moment, the world narrowed down to the warmth of their shared space.

However, just as they began to drift into the quiet embrace of sleep, the door burst open with a bang. The room was suddenly filled with the blinding flashes of cameras, and confetti canons exploded, showering the room in a riot of colors. The members of TXT stormed in, each holding cameras and wearing mischievous grins.

"So, we heard you were having a moment," Beomgyu declared, camera in hand. "And what's better than capturing the lovebirds in their natural habitat?"

Yeonjun and Y/N, still recovering from the surprise, were met with the chaotic entrance of their friends. Soobin, Huening Kai, and Taehyun joined in the revelry, holding confetti canons and wearing party hats.

Beomgyu raised his camera, aiming it at the disheveled couple. "Say cheese! Or in this case, say 'sleepover!'"

The room echoed with laughter and playful protests as the unexpected sleepover took shape. Despite the intrusion, Yeonjun and Y/N couldn't help but join in the infectious energy. As the confetti settled around them, the room became a haven of shared laughter, friendship, and the enduring bonds that had blossomed amidst the chaos of their rebellious past.

And so, the night continued with impromptu celebrations, shared stories, and the kind of camaraderie that turned ordinary moments into cherished memories. The city outside may have slept, but in the shared apartment of TXT, the night was alive with the vibrant echoes of friendship and the warmth of a love that had blossomed against all odds.

[castlevaniacentral]

Little authors note: This story mentions some touchy topics such as slavery, and dark details of abuse. The Character in this story is more of a POC (all poc females included in this!!! wasn't specific with a race. I just wanted to give us a chance <;3) and there is some Christian metaphors here just wanted to see if i could go a different route. And dive deep into the plot and the ideologies. I hope you all enjoy this fanfic as much as i like writing it.

The Sunrise May never be mine

Prologue. 'what do i know, for i am just what you see'

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓 14𝖷𝖷

There it was. Something you weren’t particularly looking for but had found its way to you. Like an echo repeating your name. A call from destiny that sounded directionless. You rubbed your sore wrist, the shackles still holding you; though you weren’t chained, in your mind. It was just as good as you were. 

But there it was…

A chance to finally escape, to make it out. To possibly go back home. Though that wasn’t possible for now. You were far far away from home. Now you technically didn’t even have one. And it is such a distant memory, that now, you're not even sure if a home exists out there for you. 

cause you don't fit in.

Your armour glistened at you as you stared back at it— locked away in a glass case. You were a case study, or in this case, a part of one. You were born with powers. Many would look at you and call you a witch. But oddly, you didn’t practice witchcraft or spells or any of the sort. These were powers that you were just born with. Gifted with. Not something you learned over time. It’s been with you for as long as you can remember. 

You hid these powers from a young age, but you couldn’t help but summon these powers embedded deep within you from your ancestors but...You were born into a Christian family. 

Magic was frowned heavily upon in the century, your father turned his nose up at you, and left you when you were young. But your mother reminded you that the family power could only be a gift from God and only he could allow you to bear it. 

“Use your powers to protect. Like an angel you are to defend the innocent from the demons that haunt the night” 'But mother,’ ' you have no choice, soften your heart to others. Live compassionately so that you may be able to wear the armour and help others.' 

as much as you remember, it was picky. You could only bare it if you held a pure mindset to world. The minute your heart turned bitter, and your being corrupted- the magic would be with you no longer. You wouldn’t be able to wear the armour.

But to make matters even worse, as loving as your family was and as generous as they were. You were a slave, and freedom hadn’t been in your grasp for your lifetime.

You swallowed your saliva, staring at the armour longingly, it belonged to you rightfully so. Passed down from your great-grandmother to your mother. You were sure she had powers of her own. She could grow a garden with her bare hands. 

 you wouldn’t consider her a witch. But the mistress of the house would, and the sire. Two entitled rich people once again enslaved a culture that wasn’t theirs to destroy. Owning them, ripping them from any root or connection of their identity. Making them a puppet for their amusement. Erasing the identity of theirs that they refer to as complex or not fitting to the standards of their simplicity. 

Making them…’normal’

Oh, how you disliked the word. It would never fit you, your skin was too dark, your undertone too golden. Your hair too untamed, your figure too curvy. How little freckles and moles littered your beauty in delicate spots. Your frame was too much for the men of the house being forced to wear ugly rags and to cover your hair to not look attractive. Because after all you were just a lousy servant for them

Your mother had rooted you deep in what You were. Though as the days went by without her, it seemed as though the roots that had grown you began to wither and dry up. You couldn't read, you couldn't write, heck you could barely even speak proper sentences, they were quick and short but you had understanding.

For as much as she taught you to love yourself. You quietly never did. In the back of your mind you wished you were something else. Someone else.

Why couldn’t you be born as someone else? Anything but the filthy human being you were. You loathed the very thing that made you unique…that made you different.

Cause look at the position it put you in. 

Your fist slightly shook, the nails digging into your now white palms drawing blood. Because of who you were, you couldn’t take back what made you what you were. 

The scripts, the ancient lore of your people, the stories, the greatness. The jewellery…

The sweat…the blood

And the tears. 

You stood in front of what belonged to your family rightfully. Stored in a case as A monument for the family that owned yours. 

it held magic, and they knew it. Because the family that held your family hostage were witches themselves. Trying to understand the power of yours that flowed so effortlessly without incantations or symbols. They took your family's possessions hostage and then them. Your family was cursed to only be able to use their magic through this armour. 

Once a member of this bloodline put on a piece of this armour it would conform to them, becoming a fit just for their time being. Molding onto their skin and burning an incantation into it. You and the armour would become one once it was put on. 

" Because of fear, long ago, our family was forced to become weaker. We’ve been enslaved here for years. Through this armour lies our strength. If you wear a piece of this armour you'll have power. You don't need to wear the whole thing to bare it's energy. "

your mothers teachings stick with you, as you analyze the silver plates. she didn't get to bear the armour either.

The armour whispered your name in a hundred million soft small voices. 

The family that had enslaved your family, came as good, they helped your family they were 'kind' you honestly could have had it worse. Sure they fed you scraps let you sleep in the farmhouse, made you do all the labour but..

they kept you at least. Though they beat you mercilessly they…fed you.

you close your eyes, turning your back to the armour before walking off. You didn't want to stay there in the grand hall any longer, may someone catch you there idling not doing your duties.

-

The years had passed by in a blur, you wouldn't have remembered that you had a birthday or even had to count your age. if it wasn't for your mother reminding you how happy she was to have you. "...you're wonderful girl aren't you. Here..eat more of my share. Its your birthday today. You should eat more!"

she pushed forward the scraps to you, the bones of the leftover meat and bread crust sat poorly in the metal tin. The meals the masters had were lavish and healthier looking than this. But you couldn't complain because at least they were giving you some. 

looking at your thin and tired mother you smiled at her wearily. "you eat." you said abruptly, your mother in turn only offered you a smile. it was so heartwarming, you found home in a smile like that. it wasn't the place or dwelling that made home for you. It was your mother and her comfort. 

-

you were tending to the horses in the stable, gently patting one black horses head you softly hummed, " ash, hungry?" you gently glided your slim hand over the neck of the horse, who only allowed itself to be caressed by your gentle touch. 

"not talking tonight huh?" chuckling you stepped away turning to pick up the bucket of feeding before pausing as your eyes caught view of light coming towars the manor. Slowly lowering the bucket from your grasp you squinted in attempts to see further. like that would work

but once your eyes could make out the view of the light coming closer. It quickly came to you...it wasn't just light. It was torches, it was the church with torches, the so-called priest who guarded the catholic church. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly

this meant they were coming to collect the family...most likely for witch craft. "eat" you dropped the feeding to the ground before taking off in a hurry towards the manor, if you could cut across the field. 

you'd make it in time! just in time to warn them. That they were coming. 

Sprinting off with all your might you huffed through the fields, your hair bouncing with your sudden and rapid movements. Your heart was racing, it started racing the moment you noticed the priest. But... now it was even worse, felt like it was about to fall out of your chest. 

you quickly ran up the stairs towards the grand entrance, stumbling through the doors as you looked for your masters. "master! the church!!! coming!" you blurted out through your heavy panting. 

"i know." the mistress stated with a smog smirk, as she ascended down the stairs with her husband behind her arms behind his back. "they're coming to try your family for witchcraft." 

you paused, "what..do you mean...you guys practice this?..." you stood up straight your face contorting into pure confusion and misunderstanding. "yes, and if they had known they would have trailed us. But we took precautions into letting the church know it was your mother. as far as they know. Anything they may come across here that is magic. Is because her."

you violently shook your head at her words, "No! you can't thats not fair!" you shouted, and just then the priest spoke at the door. " we have come lady Esmeralda. Show us the witch." 

"oh priest! i'm so glad you've come! They've been plaguing our home with spells and incantations! i fear being here! just the though of it sends me into a frenzy!" 

you didn't know what to say to this running down the hall you decided to look for your mother, "Mom!" you screamed out looking through the rooms hastily. As the priest and your masters gathered at the entrance of the manor. 

maybe if you could find her before them? maybe you and her could just run for it? before you knew it you found yourself tripping over the rug in the hall. Your body collided with the ground in a loud thud, just before the large glass case you always admired. 

if there was any time now would be time to break it. or so, you thought.

A large gold vase caught your attention as you stood up. You immediately grabbed it and threw it at the large case, shattering the glass at the instant the gold contacted it. As the armour crumbled to the ground, you reached for the armour right away. After all it was just a piece you needed right? Scrambling to put it on your arms, you panted. you were far too desperate to put on the whole thing right now, after all you just needed the magic! just to save your mother

Then, after a brief pause, you turned back to the entrance and ran as quickly as you could. The breath leaving your body steadily heaved as you mumbled out of desperation, "Don't be...late.". 

but...

by the time you reached the entrance, they already had her. A noose around her neck the rope was already slung over the tree. 

what was this? they weren't even going to take her into the town square? just here? they were going to kill her mother here!? right here on this land that she so fruitfully brought back to life? these people? were going to do it right now?

you dropped to your knees. Your body shaking now, you weren't sure if this was adrenaline or pure distraught. Tears couldn't form or any words, you were a scrambled mess, looking for some sort of sign. and Some sort of help.

"NO!" you screamed out, pleading from the steps as you stumbled forward before tumbling down the concrete flight of stairs. Hitting the bottom with a loud thud, you squawked out, hearing a snap come from your arm. 

Now forcing yourself up you screamed again "Please don't" You tried to stand, sobs now leaving your already heaved burning chest. You raised an arm as if the attempt of your arm of your hand being held out would magically stop what was transpiring in front of you. 

"mom!" you screamed out, as her tired head lifted to see you struggling to come forth to her. She only smiled at you, which caused your heart to shatter even more. And before you were even close, The men pulled the rope lifting your mother off her feet and into the air by her neck. 

Watching as her eyes strained and turned red, she gasped for air that she knew would not come. Holding your arm you charged forward before you were grabbed by a man who appeared to be with the church. Manhandling you, he threw you to the ground. Your thin body slams into the cold muddy ground. But your eyes didn't leave your mother not once.

not as she struggled in the air, her body twitching to find ease in her miserable state. "God no..." you sobbed out, tears coating your delicate face. "stop.." your mothers once bright eyes now red and bludged from suferaction. Her lips turned blue before her final moments, as she went limp. 

the fear in you had turned to pure rage. Screaming out you pushed the man that held you captive. The ground rumbled underneath the feet of accusers. Immediately he turned back to you "another witch capture her!" You struggled but stood up fast, taking off down the field once more. 

you didn't know where but you knew you had to flee. Running to the stables you went as fast as you could. Hoping you could go even faster because of the men who followed in behind you.

"ash!" you scream running towards the stable as the hose ran out to greet you. You climb ontop, "Yah!' you yell out as the horse stands on its rear legs before taking off into words near the estate. You clutched onto it for dear life. You had no direction, nowhere to go, no money no food. Just armour...that you didn't even know how to control

you sobbed loudly as the horse galloped through the uneven paths, 'Mom." you mumbled out your voice now strained, your father had been bought off, and now your mother was dead. 

there was nothing left of you here...maybe you should have just let them capture you and hang you too...

you thought...your flushed cheeks now laying on the black full mane of the horse.

and this would only be the beginning of your trials.

[fishnapple]

Hi River! 🧚‍♀️✨ I hope you are doing well and happy🩷 I'm Alexa and I'm here for the inner child game.

I would gift you paint 🎨 and a box set of a fantasy novel series maybe🤭 Something related to hobbies and fun so maybe journals, video game subscription or a polaroid camera.

Message for my younger self : Please do not be a self-sacrificing person. It's not worth it in the end. Do not overthink about things beyond your control. It's not your place to decide someone else's fate, their lack of talent or skill should not make you feel like you can't accept appreciation for your own skill. Don't think it makes you egotistic to deserve praise, I know you are humble but still ACCEPT it. It's yours to receive. Do not be ashamed of praise or receiving good things in life. I'm grateful for my beautiful childhood, grateful to you! You made enough memories for me to be happy for a very long time. Growing up hasn't been easy but hey don't be discouraged because I still believe I gained something beautiful despite all I lost. Saw this quote somewhere "The pain wasn't worth it, but it also wasn't wasted. " You have a lot to be grateful for and whatever happens in life, I cherish you and love you because despite making mistakes and wrong choices, you have a heart of gold. You are a winner in my eyes! Spend a lot of time with your parents and sister, friends and all you love. Give lots of hugs, tell them you love them a lot, do activities with them and make a lot of memories. Make them feel loved, don't hold back. Live your life well giving and receiving love. I hope you don't have any regrets. I'm always here for you, whenever you need me.

That's it, I guess. Writing this down felt like a therapy session. I feel nostalgic about my childhood🥺❤️‍🩹 and feel like life was a lot less complex than it is now.

Thank you for this game, River. I really appreciate this😊🥹 Take care and have a lovely day!🧚‍♀️

Hello Alexa, thank you for your gift, those are all the things I love. What fantasy novel series would you recommend to me?

Your inner child's halo:

The message from your inner child:

My sweetheart, I know we're always connected to each other, but it's so nice to write down the words to you like this. It feels like we're exchanging notes with each other, makes me all giddy. I'm in a very peaceful state right now, don't worry about me. At times, we can feel like we're from two completely different world, but it's not. I came from your heart, and you've grown from my heart. I'm the wind that take you far, you're the wings that delight my sky. Always ready to take flight, even when you think you have everything in its place, there will always something new to do, we don't do well when we stay inactive for too long. Don't be bored, there's so many wonderful stories to tell. Don't spend your energy on things you feel indifferent about. If you struggle with motivation, ask me, do I feel happy? I will tell you the truth, it's our job to make us happy. When we're sad, it's also our duty to pick up the pieces and stand up again. I will hold out my hand, you will take it. That's just how we are. Broken things might not come back whole like they used to be, but we keep the pieces, like puzzle pieces, those that made up the picture of life. Hang them on the wall, but don't let yourself bleed. Look at them but don't hold them in your heart.

Always with you, like the beat of your heart.

Message from your inner child - mini game

[clavissionary-position]

Gilbert vs. Azel

(crack but also contains some main story and sequel route spoilers)

Azel: (standing saint-like and unbothered at the end of Gilbert’s pointed cane)

Azel: And now that you’ve learned that little factoid, feel free to donate this—(skewers a receipt onto the cane)—exact amount to me. You know my contact information, right?

Azel: God@TheTemple.com. I’m telling you that free of charge, of course. It’s common knowledge, but it’s okay to be embarrassed if you didn’t know.

Gilbert: Hehe. As it happens, all of your other contact information is also common knowledge. (Retracts his cane to glance at the receipt) To me, anyway.

Azel: I’m happy for you. That means there’s no need to send any more rando princes to my country. It must be gratifying for a mortal to be so creepy, I mean knowledgeable.

Gilbert: Oh no! I’m not the one mystically window-watching into every bedroom ever, am I, Mister God@TheTemple.com?

Azel: May I ask why you seem so envious about that? Your current god complex isn’t lacking by any means.

Gilbert: Well, as you know, you can never know too much. Hehe.

Azel: You’d be surprised. By the way I also charge interest on any pledged donations that aren’t paid off in a timely manner. You will find my rates are completely reasonable.

Gilbert: For a prince.

Azel: For a man with eclectic means.

Gilbert: Ah. (smile deepens) While I’m not Silvio, it’s not a bad idea to attack me through my investments. But unfortunately for you, I don’t pay any bills I can’t read.

Azel: Tsk, tsk. It’s not a good look to lie to an omniscient character.

Gilbert: (pouts) I’m not lying. I mean, this handwriting is pen vomit. It looks like a tiny animal tried to imitate what it thinks a human being writes like.

Azel: (maintains his generous smile even though his eye is twitching) I wrote the receipt out in front of you not even ten seconds ago. Had I known you suffered from such catastrophic lapses in memory, I’d have gone to Prince Chevalier first.

Gilbert: Ahaha! Maybe you should have. He’d have ended this conversation much earlier. With much more blood.

Azel: (grimace) I’m happy we can agree on that much, at least. So in the interest of parting ways as soon as possible… (points at the receipt)

Gilbert: How shameless. So you think you get to order an Obsidianite prince around? I almost admire your foolhardy levels of courage. But I think there’s something that needs to be made clear.

Gilbert: Tigers, you see, are at the top of the food chain. They answer to no man. No god.

Gilbert: Sometimes to bunnies, but that’s the exception, not the rule.

Azel: I don’t contest that. But unicorns, you see…

Azel: (appears to glow under the mid-day sun) …are not even on the food chain.

Azel: (eyes sparkling) They prance-fly in their own pastel dimension, unfettered by this world’s foolish ways and uncivilized biologies.

Gilbert: Hehe, that’s a creative way of saying you’ve noped out of reality.

Azel: (under his breath) Your face is a creative way of saying ‘punch me’.

Gilbert: Hm? What was that?

Azel: (saintly smile) Nothing, nothing. Just praying for you.

Azel: (scribbles an extra surcharge to the receipt) You’re learning so many new things today, Gil. I’m sure you’ll achieve a grown-up’s level of knowledge long before you reach a grown-up’s level of physical stature.

Gilbert: You know, you shouldn’t directly plagiarize insults from whatever is popular at the moment. If it’s too mainstream, it loses its bite.

Gilbert: (dramatic shrug) I really thought a living god would be much more inspired than that, but I guess I was wrong.

Azel: I have better things to do with my time than murder normies, stalk bunnies, and brainstorm funnies.

Gilbert: Are you sure about that? That second point, I mean. A little bunny told me about some very interesting dreams she’s been having as of late.

Azel: (serious expression) I’m glad you brought that up. Can you tell your pet to quit stalking me? I’m a very busy man and I have no interest in starting a harem.

Gilbert: (tilts his head with an evil smile) Tell her yourself.

Azel: …..?

That night in the rosy dream world…

Azel: Oh, goddammit, not this goddamn stupid dream again! (kicks one of the columns) Urgh, that hurts!

Emma: Um, A….zel? Oh hey, I remembered your name this time! Azel, are you here today?

Azel: Of course I’m here. If I’m here, you’re here. If you’re here, I’m here. If you have a cure, I’m all ears.

Emma: Aw, that’s a cute poem.

Azel: Shut-up.

Emma: Right, anyway, I’m sorry about this. (points a gun at him)

Azel: …

Azel: …….

Azel: (watches the crystalized rose on the table begin to rot)

Azel: (sighs)

Azel: Does he want a discount on the bill, is that what this is about?

Emma: (realizes what she’s pointing and scampers to put the gun away) Oh shi… I’m sorry!

Crystalized Rose: (goes back to being uwu)

Emma: I meant to hold out my hand in a truce!

Azel: Truce? I don’t remember being at war with you.

Emma: Apparently we are? Stuff gets twisted around in Gil’s head all the time. Although usually there’s at least a grain of truth to it. But basically I’ll stop stalking your dreams if you stop stalking mine. I don’t know how, but I figure this is a good start.

Emma: (looks up at the dreamy clouds) See, Gil? We’re talking it out. Stop strapping your gun to my thigh while I sleep, please? It tickles and it makes me want to pee!

Azel: This is our dream. He can’t hear you.

Emma: I know, but I heard that if you shout stuff in your dreams, it's more likely you'll remember it when you wake up.

Emma: AZEL IS DEFINITELY THE GUY WE'RE TRYING TO TAKE DOWN IN THE CURRENT STORY ARC!

Emma: I NEED TO STOP CASUALLY TELLING HIM NATIONAL SECRETS!

Azel: (covering his ears) You're the reason I wake up with seven hundred bags under my eyes.

Emma: So... truce?

Azel: Yeah, sure, truce, whatever. (goes to shake her hand)

Emma: (points gun at him again) I'm sorry, I can't let you actually physically touch my hand or Gil will literally kill you.

Azel: THIS IS A DREAM WORLD

Azel: I’m not even going to tell you that your love is cursed. Your entire man is cursed.

[imperfectercell]

the confrontation between cell and gero in hell was one of hells messiest events. because okay Listen. Youre dr gero, you died which SUCKS you JUST started enacting your big plan when your own bots murder you. But then like 12 days later you learn Son Goku died too??? to which you go oh fuck! Did my androids kill him? Im a genius at coding!

But then a big bug appear. The big bug is dead, and it is the future version of that side project you kept in the basement along with all your private notes. You had set that up with all it would need to grow up into a proper abomination, your first foray into artificial life grown in a vat. And this big bug Killed goku. And it is NOT happy to see you, because ITS DEAD TOO. You built it to be Perfect, didnt you? It demands of you, what did YOU do wrong to make it have some type of fault? You tell it that you had no control over its current actions, but it tuts you, and says no, you MADE ME. You made me, and whatever you did, you didnt do GOOD ENOUGH. And you realize that you programming has given this thing the worlds worst fucking perfection and god complex known to man. It not only thinks of itself as perfect, if it Cant consider itself perfect, it will blame the first thing available any flaws.

And you are to blame more than Any one in its eyes. Far be it from it being THIS things fault, its perfect, so it must be Your fault. In a way, it is, for programming it in such a way where it believed it had to be perfect, and felt a vice gripping its mind if it wasn't. But its not as if this thing always made the best choices. Despite your efforts and madness and sadness, you could never Truly program that free will out of your creations. You dont know why.

And then the big bug beats the shit out of you for a few hell years before getting tired of it

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

Speaking of which, how do you characterize the Pregame bois?

I have a document on this

No one is surprised

I have playlists on them

still no one is surprised

They are named Koharu and Shinichi, you may recognize Koharu because thanks to a convoluted series of event he kinda evolved from pregame kokichi to his own original character so I've been kinda tempted to change pregame kokichis name to something else.

I'll put their information under a cut because im too lazy to turn this out of a list into a paragraph form

Kokichi - Koharu

God complex

Believes himself to be the only real person

Wants to be prime minister

Incredibly dangerous manipulator and near perfect liar

Dresses softly and acts weak and shy to make people trust him

Has his entire school under his command with a puppet king in the student council

Knows everything about everyone, no one moves without him knowing about it.

Views the people around him as toys for him to play with or tools to use

No desire for a relationship as he doesnt think anyone could ever even get close to matching him, so any relationship he did take would be uneven and just for appearances.

Parents died at a very young age so he grew up in a rough orphanage where he learned to never trust anyone or anything

Craves challenge and interesting experiences but no one can adequately challenge him so he’s bored

Doesn’t have many social skills outside of manipulation and as such struggles with emotions, whether it be his own or other people’s, even if he hides it pretty well

No hesitation to ruin lives to get what he wants.

Occasionally has secret breakdowns about being alone and stressed but he represses those and pretends it didn’t have them

Loathes people who hurt animals, views them as the lowest scum. Humans are worthless but animals are soft and loyal. Eating meat is one thing, he doesn’t care about that because that’s just life, but if he catches you throwing a rock at a cat or something, your life is over.

Uses bullies to manipulate people by seeming in need of help or pitiable

Feels like he’s never truly seen, he crushes that down as useless observation, he doesn’t want anyone to see the real him, it’d ruin everything.

Monaca is his favorite character and idol, his facade is based on her “pitiable children are the most powerful” philosophy.

Doesn’t make friends as he finds other people to be annoying and unfulfilling, they all seem very shallow and boring for anything beyond use as a toy or tool. No one would like him if it wasn’t for his facade anyways, its all just superficial tolerance. No one actually wants something that actually goes both ways, everyone just wants a shoulder to cry on, no care about the shoulder itself as long as it’s comforting them. So he’ll give them that, it’s easier.

Tries not to doubt himself but does have a rare moment of crippling uncertainty and wondering why he even tries, no one actually appreciates him anyways and he’s so bored and alone, why does he try?

Acts weak and soft and sad and teary and skittish but it's all a lie to both protect himself and gain power

Joined the game to prove his superiority by ending the world’s so beloved game and also become a celebrity. It’s one of many steps in his very long and detailed plan for world domination. Besides the game had long since grown old and stale and predictable

Shuichi - Shinichi

Manic

Self esteem constantly shifting between highs and lows

Yearning for positive contact and romance and also sex

Shockingly self aware of what a mess he is 

Protective of the few people who tolerate him or he likes

Sexual and Violent intrusive thoughts

Resentful but tired

Enjoys really dark subjects

Devoted

Really bad at social cues and knowing whats normal or not

Masochistic and Sadistic

Actually really really good at solving mysteries but easily distracted and easily derailed from his conclusions

Wants to fix himself but a lack of support along with society’s apathy means he’s kinda been left floundering.

Ignores things that make him feel shitty to focus on positives

Parents encourage him to be more assertive and tough, this does NOT help his intrusive thoughts

Honestly just desperate for love and affection, he’d never actually hurt someone for it, but man, sometimes he really wants to.

Smokes to try and keep his chill

Can’t casually get into anything, is either 100% in or 0% in

Reads and writes a lot of fanfiction, actually somewhat a big name for his really well done characterization of more violent or manic characters.

Met Koharu once and saw through him immediately, they never met again after that but he really freaked out Koharu and is honestly lucky he went to a different school.

Danganronpa is his favorite show because it lets him safely indulge in his twisted desires and feels rather cathartic. Plus he loves the mysteries! Joining and finally killing someone for real should be the ultimate catharsis and finally put an end to this sickness in his head....right?

[brown-spider]

Not sure how to say this, but, any thoughts on Peter and Sunny’s relationship? They seem like a really interesting duo, in that both of them seem to have Issues™️, and each has something to learn from the other, but they’re both also too much of a mess to be a role model or understand the other’s actual points. Like, Peter clearly has a good influence on Sunny, by teaching them that they can and should see themself as capable and self-determining, as well as able to make the world a better place. But Pete also seems like kind of a mess with the whole “misery builds character” and “it is my Personal Responsibility to engage in as much self destructive behavior as is necessary to optimally protect others” stuff. At least that’s the vibe I got.

I've actually been thinking a lot about their relationship recently so this ask is nicely timed!

I find it interesting that you got that read on Sunny's Peter about him thinking its his Personality Responsibility to engage in self destructive behavior to protect others. It's not exactly what I had in mind when writing about his "tragedy builds character" mindset but you also aren't wrong 😂

I'd say he struggled more with being self destructive during his first couple of years being Spider-Man, but has since grown out of it and learned that he can't help others if he doesn't help himself first. He's already gone thru many of the Character Arcs, if not technically all of them (based on Miguel's canon schematics) and I think he's what most would call an Excellent Role Model. He's like RIPeter in that way.

But a lot of people who have survived senseless tragedy feel the need to be able to explain/justify it, hence why he chooses to believe it Made Him Stronger. And he thinks it would make Sunny stronger too, because now he not only has his own life experiences as an example, but an entire multiverse of examples. He's never been more sure that the burdens Spider-Man has to bear is an Absolute Truth, but also one worth bearing because he's strong enough to do so, and someone has to do it.

Sunny is completely unaware of canon events, mostly out of their own insistence on remaining ignorant and as far away from The Plot as possible, so this topic doesn't even broach between them. If Sunny knew, they would just be resigned to the canon. Like "I guess this might as well happen..."

If there's anything Peter could learn from Sunny, it's actually about the complexities of crime rates among impoverished and minority populations. Sunny strongly believes that all cops are fucking bastards and no good can be done under the system they were built on, PERIOD. Peter thinks it's just a handful of Bad Apples who are making big impressions.

When Sunny actually comes along with him on patrols, it almost always ends in an argument after Sunny tries to help minor criminals escape from the cops or Spider-Man himself lmao

[ask-thebrothers-kaiba]

Dandelion - What herb are you?

You grew up too fast and all you know is the calluses on your fists and the thousand invisible scars that you pretend don't ache. Your anger burns so bright, so hot or maybe not at all, so deep you could never tell it was there. You are yours and you will defend that to the death after so many years of being ripped apart and denied your own agency and maybe you are still facing the bastards who stole your innocence but you will survive because that's the only thing you know how to do without breaking, the only thing you know besides protect, protect, protect, protect, yourself or sometimes those few others you claim as yours. You are a thousand sharp edges but impenetrable, a traumatized child so covered by thorny armor that you promised yourself you're grown now, you're stronger than anyone who has ever hurt you. You're safe. Nothing will ever hurt you again. You're so alone though sometimes, in a world that sees you as too much or too broken or too angry or too hurt, and you want to scream with the too-much of it, prove that you're okay, that you're self-reliant, that you are strong enough to stake your claim on your body, on your mind, on your heart, on your people, and protect it from any who dare take it away from you. You are the sea in tempest, a howling sky, a tsunami in motion, a force of nature, no matter how much you sometimes yearn to be still, to be safe, to be small. You are a dandelion, stubborn and determined to grow in the rockiest of soil, and bloom again in spring.

[It kind of shook me how accurate this is. It's a little vague in some parts to be general towards a wider audience, but I see it. This stands. I'm posting my own results under the cut.] Tagged but not really by @my-ohh-mai !

[ Mint

The world is a puzzle, so complex and multifaceted that you long to run your hands through the tapestry of its wonders and stay there forever, lost in the threads and colors and stories. You wish to stay there forever and you tell yourself it's to know the world but maybe it's not, maybe it's a fear that you're not enough, that you're so fragile and helpless in a world that moves too fast, to sharply, too many bright, painful colors that you stay locked inside your mind and thoughts, where you decide the tempo of your world, where you can grow and be as competent, as capable as you want, where the world is as wide as you can imagine it and never out of control unless you want it to be. Your shield is your knowledge, your mind, and you never feel ready enough for the world around you, never feel prepared enough, never safe, and you wonder if things could have been different, if you could have been better, happier, more like everyone else if you'd just known what you know now.

I also got a result about wanting to be loved because I couldn't choose between two different answers, and I do sometimes feel that, but I also staunchly believe that self-love should always come before external love. External love is not a replacement for the love we feel for ourselves and I feel even Seto Kaiba is a good example of that. He's got a big ego, but when he's on top of the world, winning, showing the world everything he's got, you bet your fourth rate deck he loves himself. Loving yourself should not be dependent on your performance, my dear Seto, but that's a conversation for another time. Even though I struggle with self-care, self-love, self confidence, I will always be of the mind that the love received from others is more of a great bonus than a way to heal from my own wounds and traumas. Even if my heart desperately wants it to be otherwise. (I've already been through trying. It doesn't work. Don't be like me.)

My result is giving Yugi, anyway. Make of that what you will.

I always wonder if Seto and I could be friends. I wonder if he'd like me. If our personalities would clash. This is an interesting thought experiment, though, no? ]