#I love how they play with themes all the way through

[kurokawaia]

ATTITUDE!! 彡 Bakugou, Shoto, Dabi, Hawks

| MDNI - 18+ | WARNINGS :: bakugou x fem!reader, hawks x fem!reader, dabi x fem!reader, x fem!reader, shoto x fem!reader, second pov, suggestive content, nsfw themes, implied smut/nsfw, no actual naughty acts, pet names used: babe, baby, sweetheart, dear, my love + more? MINI ONESHOTS. total wc :: 1.5k

⋆·˚ ༘ *REQUEST :: Could you maybe write a headcannon where reader says can you please shut the fuck up to them ? It can be more nsfw suggestive like. Like dabi finds it kinda hot and katsuki is kinda pissed but more in a amusing way. Could you do it pls for hawks,dabi,katsuki and maybe shoto? - @carokitten

DABI

Yeah good luck with you saying that actually making an impact because, surprise surprise, it is not going to work, if anything that just turns him on. "Don’t pretend you don’t like it when I—" You didn't even know what Dabi was rambling about while you were trying to concentrate on your task.

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you snap, the words just slipped out before you could register even saying them. Immediately after you bit your bottom lip, mentally cursing yourself because you know your mans a freak, it probably gets him going.

Dabi stops abruptly after hearing your outburst and rests his hand on his palm, his elbow balanced on the table right beside you. A smirk rises on his lips as he nudges your shoulder. "Damn, babe. That's kinda hot," he chuckles before slyly slinging his arm around your shoulder, his hand moving your chin towards his face as you were looking away. With a swift movement, you are know dangerously close to his face, only a mere inch away, the pad of his thumb playing with your bottom lip teasingly, watching your face turn red. "Say it again," he teases, moving closer until his lips will graze your own, until your heart is pounding so loud you can't process any thoughts, licking his lips like he’s about to devour you whole.

You roll your eyes. "I swear to god, Dabi—"

He leans over you, almost causing you to fall of the chair, Dabi's lips press against yours and a haste movement of his tongue slipping past before you could even register until he pulls away. Swear all you want, babe, I’ll make you beg me to keep talking, to help you through it..." he murmurs slowly and your cheeks flare up knowing he was referring to something other that yapping your ear of.

HAWKS

Hawks has been teasing you for the past ten minutes, throwing in suggestive comments every chance he gets. He’s clearly enjoying the way your cheeks heat up and the way you stiffen momentarily whoch just made his experience so much better. Flustered, {name}, flustered, {name}, flustered, {name}, is the only thing singing in his head right now. "Y’know," he muses, his chest pressing against your back as you finished wiping the counter, causing you to be flush against him and the cool marble. "I could just keep talking if it means getting a reaction outta you. Kinda fun watchin’ you get all flustered like that—"

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you cut in as nice as you could. Hawks freezes because he has never aroused such a reaction in you such as that before and it made him let out a laugh from behind you, moving his arms to cage you in, so you won't move. No, no, no, no. You aren't going to let him get to you. "Ohh, feisty," he grins and you let out a shaky breath feeling his lips graze the crook of your neck. He's getting to you. "Didn’t know you had that in you."

"I mean it, Kei'," you mumble, unable to comprehend between the sensations of his touch and how his words made your lower abdomen do flips. "What if I don’t?" he murmurs and you could feel him pressing in closer to you, you aren't going to last if this keeps up, his voice dipping lower. "What if I just keep talking, keep whispering in your ear, keep making you—"

"Kei, stop right now," you say, cutting him off but this only riles him up further, and did you really want him to stop? No. No you did not. One of his arms move so that now, after his hand slowly traces up from your hips to your chin, tilting your head back into his shoulder, having clear access to your neck to place kisses on. "Well, sweetheart, you just made this a whole lot more fun for me." Oh, you just made this a whole lot more fun, sweetheart."

BAKUGOU

Bakugou is ranting about something—probably a fight that happened on patrol, probably how he’s the best—and you’ve been nodding along, but he just. Won’t. Stop. And, Oh my days, it is giving you a headache. "So then that extra tried to land a hit, and I fuckin’ dodged it—like obviously, dumbass should’ve known better—"

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you sigh, rubbing your temples, shoving your face into the pillow your head was laying on. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to explode—literally. "Ohh, you think you’re real funny, don’t ya?" He smirks and you don't reply, the headache in your temple getting worse.

Suddenly you feel a big, heavy mass fall onto you causing a winded groan to leave your lips, muffled by the pillow on your face. "You don't get to say that to me and just sink into the pillows, baby," he taunts, snatching the pillow off your face, a surprised escaping your mouth. Blush coats your face as he leans his forehead against your own, lips about to press to yours, your breathing stills while your heart begins to poud hard in your chest. "Go on. Say it again. See what happens."

Maybe you should snap back at him more often...

SHOTO

Shoto has been talking in his usual calm, tone, explaining something in excessive detail. At first, you were listening, but now he’s been going on for several minutes, completely unaware that you’ve stopped paying attention. "I read that different types of ice melt at slightly varying speeds depending on density," he continues, watching the ice cubes swirl in his drink, referring to the ice in the cup, comparing it to his quirk. "It’s not significant, but it is interesting to consider in—"

"Can you please shut the fuck up?" you say, your cheeks meeting your palms. Shoto pauses mid-thought, blinking at you. He's buffering, trying to process your words. "…Did you just tell me to shut the fuck up, dear?" You sigh, resting your chin in your palm. "Yes, my love. I did." For a moment, he just stares at you, as if contemplating something. Then, so effortlessly it makes your stomach flip, he leans in slightly, his gaze steady.

"That was rude," he states. You open your mouth to reply, but his fingers brush your wrist absentmindedly, and you suddenly feel very aware of how close he is and lord have mercy, you're about to fold. "You don’t usually talk like that," he continues, "I think I like it."

What?

He was leaning in to place a kiss to your lips, and you were about to fall onto the futon in reciprocation until he pulls away, going back to yapping about his ice water. You groan. "Oh my god, Sho'."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

honey's a/note:: i do know about dabi's past i just don't want to spoil anyone who isn't up to that bit yet in the manga/show! i got spoiled on for his reveal and i will not be the one to spoil it for anyone else! so i will try my best!

[azurem]

What is your thoughts on a headcanon that Ink’s extremely deep blush is brown? Whilst i am at it, what would Nightmare think upon seeing it? 👀

(because that is the colour you commonly get from mixing the colour of the rainbow that is his usual blush.)

It's a nice headcanon! Though I'm half sure it'd be against canon (au where everything's the same but ink blushes brown if super flustered??) since Ink's super deep blush instead implies his rainbow freckles appearing!! Silly thing i love him. Brown blush would look very cute on him though, he'd look so monochrome/aff

— also I believe Ink's rainbow theme is very. Prism based, from what I've seen? A ray of white light passing through a prism disperses into 7 rays of color and all that. If the experiment is done in like, the. Inverse? Way? The rainbow turns into white. So in theory I believe it'd make more sense if Ink's super blush was white instead. Though I assume Ink's magic doesn't overlap, there's a reason why his tongue and blush is sectioned. Maybe different creators' emotions cannot be mixed??? Evil stuff—

Nightmare would like it way too much I think; both because Ink just never gets flustered enough to really see him that affected (he really likes to see proof that his efforts are doing something) and because he'd feel smug at the knowledge that he finally has the upper hand for once. This being said, the first time he' see it he'd probably tease Ink about it so much Ink just gets away from him by AU jumping because they'd get salty. A proper response, of course (he needs to learn limits!)

Second time is better. But his smile is still very much smug so Ink still gets salty. By the third time Ink would stop running away and let his destiny finally happen (unskippable romance scene)

Tbh I just think Ink is very skittish once he gets embarrassed enough, specially since shame isn't a very common thing for him to feel. He'd have no resistance to the emotion at all, so he'd be so obviously embarrassed you couldn't miss it. I imagine you could force embarrassment from him by having him drink too much from the purple (my hc color for his fear/shame) but it'd be just so mixed with fear it wouldn't be enjoyable for anyone involved ngl.

I also imagine Ink with like, a light level of embarrassment? Would play along if they're making fun of him. He fakes getting more embarrassed if they're poking fun at him, but he gets more snappy if he actually does (if he has available red, of course)

Anyways. I think the first time™ went kinda like this?? Maybe??? I can't get Ink's voice right but assume it's the purple talking

"...Oh? I've never seen this color here before."

"Well— Well! Maybe you missed it? Don't be silly. You— stop laughing! Why are you laughing?"

"It's cute."

"You're so— Get back in character already! C'mon, we were just— that's it! I'm going to... to. To—"

"Is it a whine I'm hearing?"

"It's not! No!"

"Is it not? I'm sure I couldn't have mistaken such a charming sound."

"Kay! Kay. So this is how it is! You think this whole thing is funny! That's what it is!"

"Oh, no. Though I won't say I'm not enjoying myself."

"...! ...!!!!!!! ...!!!!!!!"

"Ah. It's darker now."

(Ink proceeds to go fetch Broomie while Nightmare follows him closely like a hyena following sick prey No I don't have More comparisons)

"...And what are you doing now?— oh."

[thealexchen]

Why Dontnod's games feel original and inspired (and why Deck Nine's games don't)

So, I've talked at length about how Double Exposure feels much more like a corporate product than a playable piece of art entertainment [My initial thoughts on the DE trailer] [My thoughts on the early access paywall] [My thoughts on the weird marketing].

But now with the release of Lost Records, I feel like I have no choice but to confront the question: were any of Deck Nine's games truly original or inspired in any way? And honestly, I have to say no.

Objectively, I could say it's because Deck Nine literally has not produced any original IP's since their rebrand from Idol Minds in 2017. Their only narrative adventure games are all part of the LiS franchise. But even their most original game, True Colors, pretty obviously follows the first game's narrative formula (young woman with a superpower investigates a sudden disappearance/death in a small town with a dark secret, has two opposite sex love interests, learns about a twist villain, is nearly murdered, and goes through a psychological nightmare in the last episode) to a tee. But oh look, there's also a LARP!

But I believe there's more to it than that, because when I look at Dontnod's games, they are always inspired by other works. Life is Strange 1 plays very clear homage to Twin Peaks with the Pacific Northwest setting and Rachel Amber resembling Laura Palmer. Max Caulfield is named after the protagonist of The Catcher in the Rye, another novel about the fleeting innocence of childhood and superficiality of society. Life is Strange borrows tropes from Donnie Darko, Groundhog Day, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Stand By Me, and even Blue is The Warmest Color for its themes and plot points. Just take a look at its "Shout-out" page on TV Tropes. And the result is... something completely original, with riveting plot twists, memorable characters, and an ending that will make you cry.

This shouldn't make sense, right? You'd think this big soup of references would turn into an indistinguishable mess of cliches, but Life is Strange managed to be a synthesis of everything the writers loved and were inspired by, to become something completely new. Why? Because nobody had tried to take Twin Peaks, Donnie Darko, and The Catcher in the Rye and turn it into a video game before! And make it gay!

The point being, Dontnod consistently makes original material because they take creative risks. This is definitely not done lightly, since they still need to be a company that generates profit, but they still prioritize making art over selling out. Their stories feel inspired because they are inspired; when writers love what they're writing about, the result is a passion project that has loving, clever nods to all the works that are woven into it.

So perhaps a way to reword that first question is to then ask, "Have Deck Nine's games ever been inspired by anything?" And unfortunately, the answer is still no. Instead, they just copy what they hope will sell well. And a bland imitation for the sake of generating profit is never going to produce anything that feels original.

This takes me back to Lost Records, which is also clearly inspired by the same works: Twin Peaks, It: Chapter One, The Craft, The Blair Witch Project, The Goonies, Stand By Me. But again, no other game studio besides Dontnod has ever looked at these works and thought, "But what if it starred teenage lesbians instead?" Or, more specifically: "How do we capture the spirit of what made these media great and incorporate that into a new story for a new audience?" And those characters have so much thought and care poured into them too: while I've been disappointed that Double Exposure Max looks airbrushed to hell and back, I love that the Bloom & Rage girls have asymmetrical faces, acne, freckles, body hair, skin discoloration, and diverse body types. Double Exposure is marketed as nostalgia bait for fans, where Max is reduced to a prettied-up, polished-up, representation of nostalgia, not even her own character anymore, in a game that otherwise has no connection to the original. Her quips are reduced to "Hey! Remember our good ol', dad-joke cracking, dorky Max Caulfield??" and her grief is shoved aside for "Hey, look at that appealing new love interest! Because we knoooow y'all love your sapphic romance, right?"

By contrast, Lost Records has only been out for 10 days, but I already feel like the girls are some of the most memorable characters I've come across in gaming for the niche they fill. Swann seems like your typical Max-like dork, except she's also a movie buff and giddy about bugs, horror, and the paranormal; and has clearly been affected by her mother's fatphobic beliefs. Autumn is a level-headed leader who always stuck to her desire to help others, and her Blackness naturally informs her desire to feel valued and not cause trouble in a small, very white, conservative town. Nora intrigues me so much for going from a fun-loving rebel punk teen to a more gender-conforming, capitalist-leaning, influencer businesswoman. And Kat feels like an evolution of Chloe's cynicism, where her scrappy charm belies an almost unsettling obsession with the occult and a deep, tragic chasm of rage at having to confront her mortality far too young. They make sense. They feel carefully written, genuine, and like real people.

But most of all, Dontnod's games have never felt like products. In fact, most of their characters have historically gone against the grain of what traditionally "marketable" characters are. The first LiS took all these aforementioned stories about straight white men and chose to remix and retell it through the eyes of a young, queer, time-traveling girl instead. Tell Me Why is the first AAA game with a trans protagonist, and Tyler is voiced by a trans actor in all the language dubs. Lost Records decided that it would tell its story through four queer teenage girls, with women writers onboard, and fucking own it. As long as Dontnod keeps making games that stick to their creative integrity, I'll keep respecting their vision in whatever they decide to create next. Also, maybe I should finally watch Twin Peaks.

Thank you for reading!

[bnyf]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ#1 crush ♡

╭﹕୨୧﹒yandere male elf x female human reader ♡

┊ warnings : yandere content and themes, unhealthy behaviors, relationship and relationship dynamic, sexual content, noncon, kidnapping, size difference, strange dynamic.

╰﹕୨୧﹒authoress note : after receiving some unwanted but much needed criticism i've tried my hand at writing a little better and fixing errors. i apologize in advance if there's any errors or gaps in my writing, i also apologize for the messed up story that this is. ik some people don't like the way i write the reader but like??? idgaf sorry anyways other than that, i hope you guys enjoy, please read the warnings and proceed with caution <3 i would also like to say that this post is kinda inspired by a very popular yandere artist on here with a male elf oc

what a treacherous fate had befallen on a vitreous soul such as yourself.

it truly is unfortunate, you're so unlucky. how could your luck have run so low? to think, this everyday mundane routine would now be your nightmarish reality was stomach wrenching. you never did anything to deserve this, this was simply some sort of faulty by the gods, right? there's no way this is your horrible ending. no way.

you sobbed and yet... he hummed and chastised you by smacking your puffy clitorous.

it's always like this, it's been like this for...? a while now apparently. you've completely lost track of time. maybe a month or so if you're playing the guessing game.

well, if it wasn't obvious already, you've been taken hostage by an insane elven prince. probably the most insanely angelic, good-looking, prettiest and sick minded male you've ever met.

he really needs professional help. something that he can more than afford considering his house is almost made of gold, his herculean physique adored and draped only with the most expensive clothes, jewels, silks, soaps and scented creams and perfumes. his perfume, so extravagant, worth more than your vital organs all put together. that was the part you admired about elven people, they are so intelligent, so ahead of humans.

but to him? therapy is cheap and free! you're the first ever human he's laid eyes on and that's all he really needs. and really, you're the one to blame for his actions. it's all you. so you should take responsibility, right?

he's sought out humans before, trying to break the barrier between the two worlds and connect with them. he was damn near obsessed with coming into contact with the human realm and ruling over them like a god despite the fact that any sort of magic that threatens to break the barrier and connect the realms or offer passage through the two realms is absolutely forbidden. this is such a serious offense that if caught violating, can lead to public execution.

but your little caregiver did not! give one flying hoot at all, nor did the rules really even apply to royals as the royals participated in a lot of magical corruption and kept it all on the low.

so what a surprise! not really that he'd succeed in his conquest. not entirely since he'd only manage to bring one human to the elven realm, but now he knows for sure he's making great progress. and not only succeed in getting a nitty gritty palms on any human, but such a cute little human female like yourself.

humans are a lot more fragile, smaller, weaker, lesser intelligent beings, almost like a sub species from elves. so that's why you must be taken care of with so much extra love and attentiveness. all this was his reasoning for treating you like a minor being, enabling you and excuses for his weird kinks.

there was no way you'd ever dream of over powering him, not when a large veiny arm wrapped so tightly around your wrists, holding it behind your back, and the other with it's slender long digits effortlessly reaching your g spot.

it was 'bath time' or whatever, which called for a thorough inspection and cleanse. or just another excuse to use your body to his likings.

his tongue lap at your folds and clit, moaning in delight and relishing in all your juices spraying him. his voice muffled by your pussy, making wet sounds as he attempts to praise your gorgeous body: all of which sounds like incohesive unhinged, obsessive rambling of course.

if you ignore this scene and focus on other small things around you maybe you can, somewhat imagine yourself having a luxurious warm bath in the tub, with flowers and scented stuff in the water, scented candles creating a relaxing atmosphere, marvelous one-sided glass view... maybe not the one-sided glass view that's actually a little too scary to think about but yeah, you're having a nice little bath.

the most relaxing bath in the most prettiest and pearliest tiled bathroom you've ever been in.

your insides contorts though and you find yourself coming again undone on those perfectly manicured fingers of his, messing up his perfect face with your essence. your voice is loud and echoes throughout the bathroom, all the way into the bedroom and closet but never enough to each anyone's ears as he's casted multiple protective barrier spells to keep your presence unknown from other elven people. you've came like 5 times already and he won't let you rest, getting high off your pussy juices.

"poor baby, you look so tired, shhh don't worry~ mama will take care of everything, just relax and be good for me, okay? it'll all be over soon, my darling ^ mama will get you all cleaned up and dressed, right after this..." you wish you had the energy to welp out an 'ewwwwww da fuck?!' right about now but you were so weak and constantly sedated. you felt helpless as his bulbous tip hits your pussy, rubbing it back and forth to coat and lubricate himself with your juices. he leisurely teases, making your hole spasm and grasp around nothing, your body reacting in a lovely manner to his advances.

he licks his lips, only putting the tip in before quickly pulling back out. taking his time cause he wants to drive you insane like him. and luckily for him, his mind games always work so well.

his precum leaking and smearing you in the process as he rubs his whole length, measuring your pelvic area with his cock length and soon putting it in to see how far it'll actually go.

you almost blacked out. even though he prepped you well for this it still stings, he's just too big. and you? way too tight, squeezing him like you want every last drop of his seed, has him shivering and grunting in the process.

"fck- you're so tight, baby ngh~"

has him seeing stars and by the time he's balls deep in you and hitting the tip of your womb, you're a drooling and moaning mess. can't even control his obsessive thoughts from spilling out his mouth, he immediately gets to work on those hips too like a wild animal, only sparing a few seconds to sloppily kiss you and slap your thick behind.

it only takes a few minutes before he breaks his load inside you and shifts you into another position, manhandling you and roughing you up like a meat toilet, all for his own enjoyment and pleasure.

his long silky hair tickling your skin. when you think about it, he's so masculine with many feminine traits too, like the perfect balance actually and it is to be expected from an elf. he always wants to be in control, always wants to take care of you like a god watching over his creation. it sorta overlaps with him calling himself your mama but it makes sense in a way. he doesn't see himself as a woman in any sort of way, he just wants unrestricted authority over you.

your tears stream down your cheeks which he licks away and kisses, it only hurts your head trying to rationalize this or even understand it, your vision goes all blurry and for the next few rounds, your in and out of consciousness while being filled.

when you're awake again, you're draped in silk half naked and powdered up, you feel your caretakers strong arms wrapped around you, spooning you as rubs circles into your skin. he's also half naked with nothing but a cloth draped around himself. you both lay on a soft layered bed with many squishy pillows and blankies. fruits, steam veggies and grilled meat laid out on a silver tray for you to enjoy, though your stomach was filled with his cum.

[mageofmadness]

PUPPY CALEB GOING INTO RUT

(2.1k) ૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ nsfw [18+] includes: puppy!caleb, fem!reader, rut, knotting, slight a/b/o themes (kind of, not really), dirty talk, pet names, creampie and breeding kink, messy, wet, 'n sick as always. questionable puppy hybrid dynamics but it’s porn so the how doesn’t really matter, right?

caleb loves nothing more than being your mutt. your puppy boy.

he belongs to you, and by your side is where he’s meant to stay. if you’re somewhere, best believe he’s standing close behind with an arm around your waist or a hand on the back of your neck. he’s territorial, something others have picked up on and caleb felt bad about it until you admitted how much it turns you on. how much you love it. crave it, too. how much you don’t care about what everyone else thinks, and how jealous you get over others looking at and admiring what is yours.

the chain around his neck might as well be a collar with his owner's information on it, and he never misses an opportunity to show you who he belongs to.

sure, you tease him sometimes for his inclinations. caleb can’t help it though—that he can smell when you’re sweetest and your body needs him the most. when he can sense how wet you're going to be before his fingers ever find your needy, little clit. every month, towards the end of the last week, he finds himself waking up and calling off work. caleb lets them know he won't be in for a few days, and he shoots off a text to your work as well, letting them know the same thing on your behalf.

[7:21 am] i’m so sorry, i’m feeling under the weather and am not going to be able to come into the office today. i’ve got a doctor's appointment later and will send you an update with what they say.

caleb is sensitive when going into rut. he needs you here, by his side, and you cannot stray.

he always has a bit of lingering guilt, looking at you curled up in bed. sweet and innocent, asleep in one of his old t-shirts and a raggedy pair of underwear from ages ago. soft skin that stretches for miles and fading bruises from the past week on your thighs and hips. you look so…precious. small. docile and perfect for him. it makes spit collect in his mouth, even more so than usual.

sometimes, he can’t help but fall back asleep, waiting for you to get up. if he’s lucky, caleb rouses later to you petting his ears. your fingers combing through his hair, brushing over the scruff of his neck, and all of it makes him shiver. caleb wakes from sleep hot and hurting, near drooling and whimpering from the ache trapped in his sweatpants and the way your fingers dance where he’s most sensitive.

you always ask if he wants to play, always ask what he needs, and the way caleb buries his head in the crook of your neck, rutting his aching cock against your hip, tells you enough. you sigh, turning around in bed and slipping your hand into his boxers.

caleb can’t help but bite.

he tries to be gentle, he really does, but when your warm fingers are wrapped around his cock and you’re letting him sloppily jerk his hips, he can't help but groan. he can't help but growl, low in his throat, as sticky pre-come slides over your knuckles.

caleb can’t help that he likes when his owner scolds him. says, in that tone of voice you get, “no biting, don’t make me get the leash.”

“bad dog.”

he whines. caleb hates the leash and the way it keeps you from him. the way he comes so hard when it’s wrapped around his throat and you tug just right as he spills inside of you. it’s pathetic, but how else is he meant to show you that he’s yours? what better way than to let you use the leash to bury his cock that much further into your pussy, kissing your cervix and using him however you see fit.

“m’a good dog,” he pants, begging for you to understand. “m’sorry baby, i–i can’t help it. i promise, ngh. wanna be your good boy, please.”

“i need to fill you up…fuck you sloppy. oh fuck.”

caleb can hardly breathe when you turn around, letting the blankets fall so he can see the way you present for him. knees in the mattress, back arched and ass up. he swallows, yanking your underwear down and tossing it away.

“show puppy where you want it, baby. m’too dumb to remember. need to know where you want it, sweetheart. show me your little hole.”

he watches in awe as you move to spread yourself. giving him a perfect view of your tight holes. caleb moans, excitement making him shake from how you’re going to look after he’s done with you. swollen and over-sensitive. red and slick from the abuse of his cock stretching you open and apart for hours. he runs a hand over the small of your back, squeezing your waist before he can’t help himself any longer and slips a single finger into your pussy.

feeling how wet you are, how needy you are for him. how one finger doesn’t seem to be enough. caleb leans closer, letting his breath ghost over your fluttering hole as he tugs it open. he fits another finger inside, spreads them wide and feels you shake. inspecting your perfect pussy, still just as perfect, to make sure it’s ready for him.

“you're so good to me, thank you, honey. so good for puppy. ‘m so, so lucky,” his words trail off as he plays with your sticky mess. seeing how far he can stretch you open before you whine and start to writhe. “always make puppy feel so good, can i make you feel good, sweetheart? please?”

“where do you want it?” he asks, brushing his thumb over your other hole. pawing at you as he bites his lip, knowing the first day of his rut is too rough. he can’t. caleb often loses himself, and he doesn’t want to hurt you with how wide he’d like to stuff every hole you have. how bad he wants to watch your tight ass take his cock. he knows it would feel like heaven.

still, he asks, “which hole, baby? c’mon, tell me where you need it.”

“m’pussy,” you whimper, pressing back into his prodding fingers.

“here? like this?” caleb asks, rutting his sticky pre-come mess against the back of your thighs, groaning when the tip of his cock catches on your cunt and you jump. “how does my girl want it?” he asks, leaning over and crowding you, whispering into your ear. “tell me, baby. you know i’ll give you whatever you want. anything you need, honey, it’s yours.”

caleb’s favorite thing is the lip you give him right before you slip under. right before you give in to the thick weight of his cock that’s too deep, when you’re meeting his thrusts, greedy about every inch of him and how it’s yours. how it’s only meant to be buried deep inside of you, driving you wild and dirty.

“h-harder,” you demand. “don’t tell me you dont know how to use that puppy cock.”

it always turns to begging in the end, though.

depending on how well he fucked you the night before and how sensitive you are from that. how well you slept or how much you feel like being a brat today. caleb lives for the moment he feels your hips settle, when there’s no resistance as he slams his cock into you over and over and you take it like such a good girl. the best girl. the sticky sound of your pussy wanting this so much it’s dripping onto the sheets. it drives you crazy but that’s when he loses himself, too.

when you’re babbling and whimpering. praising him, “m–my good boy. such a good boy, so–so good for me. p–please, hngh. please, can i come? i cant…i–i cant—”

he lives for your praise. he’d die by it.

“you take it so well, fuck. so good. wish…wish you’d let me let me knot you,” caleb pants. letting the fantasy take hold. he’s dreamed of it, but as much as you beg for it, he doesn’t want to hurt you. but right now, “oh, fuck. please, can i? know you can take it. it would feel so good sweetheart, please let me. please, please…i need it.”

you give in, immediately clawing at the sheets when you feel him begin to swell. caleb starts to feel the resistance and can’t help but curse, watching the filthy sight before him. your cunt struggling to take what he has for you, the way it stretches and you whimper but cannot help but fuck back, trying to swallow his knot whole.

it’s a tight fit and it looks like it hurts, but the way you beg for more makes him see stars and the look he sees on your face when you glance back, blindly throwing a hand behind you to search for him, teary-eyed and gone but no less determined to take it, is beautiful. you’re beautiful, from the blush on your cheeks, the sweat sticking to your skin, all the way to the thighs that shake from the stretch.

when his knot pops inside, when caleb feels it settle inside of your warm walls, twitching and coming around him, caleb actually loses his mind. 

“fuckin’ made for this, look at that. you took it so easy, honey. should have known it would fit perfect, you’re my princess after all, huh?”

“you want more? i think you do. sounds like you do, baby. wish you could see what ‘m seeing right now. don’t know if this pussy will ever be tight again.”

caleb's voice is rough as he whispers in your ear, "that's okay, though. good thing i like you like this, hm? i love it when you're a messy girl and oh, don't cry baby. 'm right here, yeah? right here, you feel me?"

you’re gone, and caleb does what he does best—takes care of you. he presses his chest to your sweaty back, protects you from the world as he fucks into you hard and fast. like an animal. unable to move too much from being locked by the knot, it bullies against your swollen cervix with every thrust.

“we just need to fill you up, see?” he pants, feeling the way your walls milk him as he swallows his groans. as he bites down the need to use teeth. caleb kisses away tears as they fall down your cheeks. “can you be good and take it all for puppy? yes? oh, it feels good? fuck, hah, baby. you have no idea. i…i—“

“not a drop—i don’t want a single drop to spill from this pussy, you hear me?”

“I know, i know. you’re all stretched open and sloppy, but you can do that for me, can’t you? it’s all for you, baby. please, hngh, oh fuck. take it. there you go baby, yeah. squeeze and tighten up. no messes.”

when he finally spills inside of you, when he feels his come settle deep in your cunt, right where it needs to be, caleb is out of breath and burning hot. 

“s–so tight,” he hisses. “being so good for me, sweetheart. shh, im almost done, just a little longer. i’ve got a little bit more for you, baby. you’ve gotta take it...need you to take it f’me.”

“no, no,” he tsks when you start to squirm. “no moving or it won’t stick, princess.”

“good princesses let their puppies fill them up, right? they let them breed them full. you’re so good to me, baby. so good letting me take care of this pussy when i need her.”

caleb loves letting his cock hold you down, buried to the hilt as you sigh and clench from the overuse. moaning about how it feels so good. so warm and thank you and when you panic the moment he goes to pull out, whining like a bitch in heat for the cock that just ruined you, he can’t help but laugh softly.

caleb licks and bites, taking the time to sneakily nip at your skin when he can finally pull all the way out. his cock gives a pathetic twitch at the sight of your hole. sticky and drooling, too. fluttering, trying to close around nothing, and certainly not as tight as it had been that morning. gaping slightly.

caleb traces a gentle finger around the rim as he places a kiss on your lower back, feeling you jolt. he watches as his come slowly begins to dribble out over his fingers, and sighs.

“i told you not a drop, baby. what’s all this drooling out of your pussy?”

@ mageofmadness 2025. ִֶָ. 226.171.198 245.214.227

[gffa]

People shouldn't be too hard on Mon!

I absolutely love and is grateful of Freed's understanding and appreciation of the Jedi, apparent in the book, apparent in the interview he'd given for the book:

"For me, the excitement of the time period here, is that I tend to think of 'Star Wars' as a setting with plenty of room for grey area stories and moral ambiguity, but there are very clear lines of good and evil as well. There's no version of 'Star Wars' in which you look at the Emperor and go, 'Well, maybe he had some good ideas.' No, the Emperor is evil. And the Jedi and Luke at their best are good. Everything else exists somewhere in there. This is a period where the remains true but no one really knows that the Emperor is evil.

"As far as the public is concerned, this guy just won the worst war in living memory. The Clone Wars were this horrendous affair and Palpatine has put an end to it. Yes, he's declared himself Emperor but he's not the embodiment of all evil. There's not even a Death Star out there. On the absolute good side, the Jedi have sort of been tarnished in recent years. War scrapes away at the shining morality of any organization."

I think Freed really understands what Lucas meant when he said "The Jedi have been corrupted by this war."

...but I still don't hold it against Mon cause she's going through hell and she spoilerspoilerspoilerspoiler in the later half of the book. I think she's fascinating, wonderful, equally valid character with equally valid viewpoints as Bail within context of their own worlds and experiences in this novel.

The editor of the book said it best:

Bail – knows the truth about Palpatine, the Empire, and the fall of the Jedi. Caught between his commitment to truth and justice at any cost, and the duty he has to the daughter he’s been entrusted to protect.

Mon Mothma – a master politician, who believes – like so many – that opposing Palpatine is part of the regular game of politics. She doesn’t yet realize, Palpatine stood up from the game board years ago, and she’s playing against shadows.

Mon and Bail are allies, but not really friends (at this time). Padme was their link, and now, she’s gone. Where does that leave them?

For Mon and Bail especially, the secrets Bail holds that he cannot reveal leaves a gulf between them. And what does it mean when they find themselves at odds with each other, over truths they cannot speak?

prev anon) I'm talking about their different mindsets and experiences and viewpoints born from those and I'm not excusing Mon's... *spoilers* anyway I hope you enjoy the rest of the book! It's so nice seeing an author like Freed, who usually writes non-force side of sw, handling the jedi with such warmth, understanding and awareness

This was such a reassuring message to get, thank you! I've been avoiding spoilers for the book as best I can, but I'm only a quarter of the way through it and I was wondering how the various themes were going to go, but Freed's interview quotes and your comments have made me glad that I'm picking up what this book is putting down, because that's exactly how I've been reading it. (And why I'm hoping to encourage more people to read it--though, I will give a warning that this book can be uncomfortably prescient about current events in a way that I wouldn't say Alexander Freed Is A Witch, but that can be very hard to read about if you're not in the headspace to deal with a lot of reflections of the dumpster fire we're currently in.) As for Mon, I hope nobody comes down on her for this, because as much as I scream, cry, throw up, etc., over Bail's scenes, in general I lean a bit more towards Mon's way of doing things, because I think her approach is her answer to the question, "But what can actually be truly achieved?" That she is looking at an incredibly shitty situation with only shitty options and asking herself what can she actually get done, what does she have a snowball's chance in hell of success with? And she knows clearing the Jedi's name at this point in time is not on the table, not when there are a million other things that might actually do tangible good for the galaxy. And I don't disagree with that! I love the Jedi more than anyone, but clearing their name isn't more important that, say, trying to stop the Wookiees from being classified as a non-sentient species! Clearing their name isn't important enough to blow all your political capital and having nothing to show for it when there are people who you can help, with a chance that will actually succeed! Bail's idealism isn't stupid, he's incredible and the galaxy needs a shining light like him, it's necessary for the bigger hope for the future, we can't make it through the dark times without bright, shining hope. So even when they don't always think positively of each other, I never get the sense that Bail and Mon don't understand that the other is doing what they think is best. They just disagree on what that is. And it makes sense! Bail knew and was friends with the Jedi! He knows the truth about Palpatine and how important all that Force shit is to what's going on here! Mon is operating with the idea that this is a political battle--and she's not entirely wrong, she's necessary to the recovery of the galaxy, too, just as Luke is necessary to save the day, so too is Leia, and I sort of see that reflected in Bail and Mon's approaches--one is focusing on the mystical and one is focusing on the political and I think both are important here. So, I have nothing but hearts for Mon Mothma and what she's trying to do for the galaxy.

And I don't see them as antagonists here, I see them as two people who look at each other with the understanding that there is deep love and compassion for people in the other, that they want this other person on their side not just for political alliances but because they care, and maybe they want to scream in frustration that the other person can't see what they see, but I don't feel for a second that this is going to end with them anything other than them as friends. Their scene in Rogue One implies she knows about Bail knowing a living Jedi, if not directly knowing about Obi-Wan Kenobi, which isn't something he would tell just anyone. I'm hoping for the same with Saw, there's going to be conflict about their approaches, and I love that that's clearly a theme/why these three characters were chosen as the pillars of this book, that each of them are shown to have their reasons why and that each of them serve a purpose. I scream/cry/throw up more about the Jedi because that's the most fun for me, but I am enthralled with Mon's chapters just as much, the political tightrope she's on, and I would encourage people to read for those aspects just as much as I would encourage them for crying about the Jedi. ANYWAY, EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS BOOK FOR YOURSELF, I'm having fun with the snippets I'm posting, but the book is so much more than those things! It's one of the best SW for rounding out the characters and filling in the transitions between the movies and TV shows, but in a way that keeps the tension and emotional gut-punches despite that we know where it's going. ALSO, MON MOTHMA AND BAIL ORGANA ARE THE BEST, I'M WILLING TO FIGHT THE INTERNET OVER THIS

[greenxgloss]

MYG Boyfriend HCs

Just wanted to write a little something to welcome myself into the myg/bts side of the internet so here are little HCs (all important links and such will be at the bottom of this post along with a few important updates about my account)

Smut, please minors don't interact (18+)

Min Yoongi who is shy and introverted in public, but when the two of you are alone, he is playful and verbally and physically stims

His most common stim is chewing on your ear lobe or rubbing his lips with his thumb

Min Yoongi who gets you gifts and gives them to you without saying a word

sometimes he just - "here take this." avoiding your eyes and holding his hand out with the gift he got you

Min Yoongi who's love language is acts of service but doesn't make it obvious

"Baby, can you peel this pomagranat for me?" you'd ask him, holding out for him. He'd sigh really hard like he was annoyed and take it from you, and then about 20 minutes later, no less, he'd place a Tupperware of the perfectly peeled pomegranate in front of you and give you a rough kiss on the forehead before returning to whatever he was doing.

Min Yoongi wrote songs about you before you started dating. Before you even knew he liked you actually.

He never played them for you (or anyone) until he finally decided he was going to release them.

Min Yoongi, who again, without a word, will come up and cuddle you

He'll come up in complete silence, carefully take your phone out of your hands and put it away before crawling into your arms and holding you close

Min Yoongi, who prefers being little spoon.

He's exhausted really often after work and prefers to be held, craddled. "Just play with my hair a little," always had you cooing with the requests he'd make, wording them as if he thought he was asking for too much

Min Yoongi who always knows what you wants wether its food, clothes, the music you wanna play or even when you're too shy to make a move on him

Smut MYG boyfriend HCS

Min Yoongi who has an oral fixation therefore not only would he stim, touching, biting and licking his lips but when he's horny he'll do the same with yours especially if you have piercings

He likes eating you out, too. not even always because he wants to make you cum but because it gives his mouth something to do

He likes the way you taste and could lay for hours between your thighs

"Mmmggh baby, please. I'm so sensitive it hurts," you whined, squirming under him, but his arms would lock around your thighs tighter just before letting up and crawling up to do the same to your lips and kiss you for hours

Min Yoongi who likes biting you, gently and hard enough to leave a mark. This includes hickies, and he will bite anywhere

Min Yoongi who drags out foreplay, well, you weren't sure if he was dragging out foreplay or just teasing you.

he loves just peppering kisses everywhere and letting his hands roam wherever they wanted or playing with your tits, maybe sucking them

Min Yoongi, who preferred giving rather than receiving but some days was into your whole humiliation kink and would let it run wild

Min Yoongi can't do quickies. yoongi takes way too long to cum so its rare when you get him worked up enough to want a quickie

He prefers taking his time with you, working you up enough through multiple rounds to squirt or cry out of overwhelming pleasure

Min yoongi who is horny for you all the time

Min Yoongi, who takes his time to be thorough with aftercare

He jokes with you, cleans you up, makes sure you feel safe and comfortable and even makes you food after because he knows how hungry you get

Min Yoongi who mindlessly cups your tits in his sleep when he spoons you

so! i've decided to change around the theme of my account slowly but surely like instead of gifs and shit I'm doing this with pics I don't really know wtf to call this or what I'm going I just lowk miss editing my own covers and this from when I used to write on wattpad so here we go lmfao. please let me know if you guys want me to make separate masterlists for the people and characters I write for! again please look at my yoongi masterlist to see what that would look like. i plan on also writing for Gdragon and if you wanna be tagged in any future works fill out the taglist (which I've edited so if you've already filled it out you'll have to fill it out again)

➽ Taglist form ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Yoongi Masterlist

[manupropriaindigo]

a game dev friend of mine once had a great twitter thread (which has now been sadly deleted) about how video games are a lot closer to stage theatre than they are to movies, specificially about how the player themselves are acting in the role, how playing through multiple times allows the player to fill into the role much like how a stage performer would fill into a role in a play, how a player's tendencies to reload a save to do something the "perfect way" or with the desired panache reflects the improv that happens on the stage itself, things of that nature

i think a lot about how there really isn't a whole lot of study and literature on the topic of experiental and kinetic storytelling elements themselves; we've all heard the phrase "ludonarrative" and usually in the context of how player actions and goals don't line up cohesively with the storyline, but beyond this there's not a lot of exploration of what it means to make a player do something, and what a player ought to feel or think about, and how that lines up with the game's themes. how do you make a video game criticizing the glorification of war crimes actually hit, because it sure isnt "give the player an objective involving doing the war crime, then scold it for doing the objective you told it to do" like spec ops the line did

tangentially i think lobotomy corporation is full of game design choices that deliberately push the concepts it wants to tell and more vidcon writers should be talking about it. a lot of folks including die-hard project moon fans slept on it because its a tedious motherfucker of a game and yeah it is but it needs to be in order to accurately and adequately express the feeling of being middle management in a chaebol that extracts the vitae from monsters and sells it as a variety of products.

example: customizing your agents in lobotomy corporation costs 2 LOB points (points you get that you'd otherwise spend on improving agent stats). in basically every other game of this type, customizing your agents is completely free because who doesn't want to make their friends or enemies or OCs or whatever in the game and have them do stuff. we love our Little Guys and we pack-bond and emphasize with them real hard (see also: cannon fodder giving your little army guys different names and slightly different appearances and still making you mourn their death when the gravestones on the hell at the inter-mission recruitment screen pile up). in lobotomy corporation however its a basically untenable cost up until about halfway into the game because the game needs you to understand that your little guys individually do not matter, because they will die gruesome deaths and ultimately their demise is eclipsed by the need to meet quota and train your new batch of agents so they too can die.

your attrition rate is atrocious and its entirely your responsibility but caring about individuals just means you end up wasting time savescumming so they don't die, and of course savescumming in lobotomy corporation is far more punishing because you don't load a save, you restart the day which, as the days go by and your responsibilities grow, the cost of playing perfectly for the sake of those under your watch grows and grows until you cant afford it.

so you watch your rockstar performer get eaten by a magpie's funny red tummy blotch because his rifle's bullet accidentally nicked it while aiming at an entirely different monster and you just sigh, buy a replacement rifle and outfit for the next day, and move on because the alternative isnt making any progress at all. the game's narrative explained all of this to you about a dozen hours ago and you brushed it off as bog-standard evil corporation line-go-up speak but now youre the uncaring middle manager and it hits a little different

I made a post a little while ago about video games still being in their "stage actors doing stage acting in movies" phase, and a lot of people took that to mean that I am against cutscenes in video games. Which, fair, that's the example I used, and it's a common example of video games pretending to be movies. But that's not really what I was getting at.

Video games are a medium. More to the point: they are an incredibly broad, diverse medium. It's also a young medium. We're still figuring out what works and what doesn't. To my mind that doesn't mean "no cutscenes ever", but "what does putting a cutscene here do?"

I'm circling back around to this now because I just finished 1000xResist, a game which pound for pound is almost exclusively cutscenes. And it works. So I ask myself: would this still work as well if this were a movie? A book? A tv show? A comic book maybe? And the answer, for me, is no. The atmosphere wouldn't be the same, the pacing of the story would be off, you would lose all of the small clever ways the game takes advantage of its medium, and (maybe most importantly) I wouldn't be as personally invested in the questions the game is posing to its audience.

And this isn't the only example. Sanabi and Nine Sols both games I played recently that made me invested in their story through cutscenes. Because they're good. They dont break the flow. They're as much a part of the game as the gameplay.

I want to see more games like this; games that understand what their narrative needs and how the player experience should be paced. Regardless of whether or not that calls for a cutscene.

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

I'M HERE I'M HERE *trips from stone pebble, face first* i'm here...

That's right, my dear fellows, your local theorist is back and freed from the basement! WA-HOO 🎉 What episode do we got today... *sees thumbnail+title* ...oh. huh.

Team...*inhales* care to tell me what. the. fuck is this? "SMG4:" IS BACK ON THE TITLE?! AND THIS DESCRIPTION?!

oh my god the Team hates me so BAD (/lh /jk) WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!

(the following is my live reaction:)

dude, i don't even know what to expect from this but it looks like i'm going to be incredibly annoying in this review 😅 (sorry in advance)

the way Mario goes to the front door of his home is exactly how i enter every room

Mario to Luigi: "Trying to get me back after locking you in the fridge for 5 days?" wha ...y'know what? that sounds about right

*war flashbacks to Ben's tweet*

*slowly turns to Team* what did you do? :) NOW'S NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR KNOWING SMILES, ONLY I SHOULD DO THAT. ANOTHER FNAF REF WITH THE VANNY MASK ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

(hey nicc, buddy, how are you holding up?)

btw the Team could've gone with any mask but they went with this for 4 & 3 🤔

*points at 4* he wants that cookie SO BAD

UE UE UE THEY MEAN THE WORLD TO ME💙💜 they do be scheming

look how much they've changed 🥹 (and i will talk about them later)

AND their expressions? *dies*

*stares at Team suspiciously* wow the framing of this scene is quite interesting, huh

speak yourself, 4. you could barely handle horror games

OH I GET THE CLUE NOW @arco-doodles never could i have ever imagined a roles-reversed version of "the princess carry" 🗣️LET'S GOOOOOOO

SMG3: "You've used the same laugh in like all your videos." and ofc, you would know that. you were like his biggest fan (in the classic era), obsessed even smh /affectionate

HOLY SHIT ARE WE DOING FOUND FOOTAGE THROUGH 3'S POV/PHONE?!?! dude this is SICK

*deadpans at you through the screen* y'know...

I'm a sucker for this animation, dude

gonna bounce around the screen like the DVD logo, spooky style

well this feels familiar

and also the fact that Mario looked like that one meme with the realistic eyes (link) that Ben used as his pfp one time. what's crazy is that Ben hasn't seen this episode yet lmao

OH A BIT OF 2D PNG ANIMATION. also the eyeliner 👀

(hmm why do 4 & 3 get trapped in the weirdest places tf? /lh)

welp we found Luigi, we did it guys *cheesy thumbs-up* roll the credits

also it's giving:

i'm just going to drop this here, ok? ↓

4 lifting 3's chin :)

a TADC ref? in my SMG4 episode? it's more likely than you think

love the small details of not only Mario's post-it note of "Mario's Spaghetti, DO NOT EAT" but also his drawing of "stinky 4" just hung up on the fridge

it is still Mario....... NOT EVEN THE SPAGHETTI TRAP?

somehow 3 summoning ghosts fit with his internet graveyard/dark web role

*WHEEZE* the 2 dollar store item...

*danny phantom theme plays*

oh. uh, i'm intruding, aren't i? i should go...... ("he wants that cookie so bad" 2: electric boogaloo???)

i hired 3 & 4 to stare at you /silly /ref

love how 3 has his contacts with the regular names (Karen, Bob, etc.) meanwhile for 4, it's "StinkyMessGuy4". 4's different 💅

aw 4 🥹💙 you did a good thing in apologizing

3 NOOOOOOO

*IGBP war flashbacks*

oh, what's that? i was staring at space again? oh, no, I was trying to figure out HOW DID I MANIFEST 4'S CASTLE COLLAPSING IN AN IGBP PARALLEL OF AN EPISODE?! oh god, did the Team somehow see my WIPs of my door fanart? they're hacking into my tablet /silly

so let me get this straight: a supernatural entity with multiple eyes and red is causing chaos, starting from emerging out of the PC to eventually corrupting the castle and its ground, meanwhile, the friends believed that one of them is possessed by said entity and trying to save them in several ways. AND by the end, 3, having a character development moment, sympathizes with their "possessed" friend...

🧍 ...ok yeah I see how it is, Team. and while i was gone for the weekend? smh

eh close enough, welcome back IGBP

before i move on, it's crazy how the Team kept punching me in the gut for the "Eye of Horus/Ra" stem of the Goop!4 theory and now they jumped into the theory's "Eye of God" and Christianity thing with Mario's new form. "wow Mario really is 4's avatar" i can never catch a break 😔 /silly

here's some context *flashback noises*:

*le gasp* he apologized?! BIG MOMENT HERE FOLKS AAAAAA

...and it didn't work? oh shit. i'm still very proud of you 3 💙

THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE SAYS SO MANY THINGS.

ok ok first off, the fact that 3 was serious about his apology. For once, doing the right thing only to be rejected. It feels very similar to the YT arc when 3 was doing his own thing with Snitch Productions. Here tho, 4 is affirming 3's actions, approving it. 3 really did good. if it was 4 back in the classic era, 4 might've had a harder time believing 3 bc of them being enemies, which was what eventually caused Snitch Productions to get destroyed and 3 clicking into his villain arc. BUT HERE, 4 believed and trusted 3's sincerity, especially since we all know 3 isn't the usual type to be emotionally vulnerable. 4 knows bc of what 3 said to him in IGBP

second, this might be a dark subject so fair warning about death. can we talk about how 4, time and time again, doesn't mind the idea of dying? I know we talked about the death guidelines of this universe and sure, it entirely depends on the context/intent behind it. But the fact he's ok with it regardless... Here, in IGBP, and other sillier episodes, it's almost like he accepts it as some sort of punishment, just enough bc by what seems like the end for him, he's doing the right thing or something he loved or from his own doing/fault. And that is what i worry bc in a serious arc, sooner or later, something like this is gonna happen again, and 4 might say he accepts this supposed fate bc he "deserved it" after everything he's done, even before IGBP. This got sad real quick, dude

Really, Team? All this in a silly spooky episode? damn

...let's go on and try to go back to silly mode, ok? ok

GET PRANKED, BRUH‼️🚨🚨‼️‼️

*shaking violently* Team, was it necessary for you to shove the fact that the window to the boarded-up room is right there, in my face? really?

and let's not prank Mario ever again :D

Congrats to Not_wizz for your art being featured in the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

[Ink here! Sorry for the late review, I literally passed out for the whole day from the conference and immediately had a rough production day yesterday. But I'm here now, coming in fashionably late 💅]

This. This was an INCREDIBLE episode, I don't even know how. The animation, the story, all of it was crazy /very pos. If you haven't noticed my insanity already, this feels too familiar to IGBP (says the co-CEO of the Goop!4 theory). at this point, the Team is teasing us. So Team, while I'm upset at the fact that I had to miss this, touché. congrats, you got me good.

Now, some of you might've noticed in the end credits that Cube is the producer instead of Kevin. For the jokes and giggles, Kev may not make it out alive from Creator Clash when his opponent's out for blood, so he's passing it over to Cube. Even some of the Team joked about it when it was first announced RIP Kev /jk.

But no seriously, Cube has been the producer for several episodes now and it's nice to see the Team growing and trusting each other with these roles. I'm sure Kev will be around but hey, things change. we just gotta adapt.

Ok, back to the episode itself. 3 & 4 have really shown how much they've grown over all these years. Obviously 4, who didn't do "childish" pranks before, now does bc of 3's influence and is really getting along with 3. But 3 went through some change from 4's influence as well, episodes before and "subtlety" now. 3 tried to save his friends in Puzzle Park (more worried of their safety than his own) and now he apologizes for that prank they did to Mario. Like he said, he swallowed his pride, and 4 believed in his word. another step of character development for these two, we love to see it.

and ofc, another episode of our goofball Mario, it's really in-character for him to into a biblically accurate angel just for a prank lol.

Anyway, this has been an incredible episode and I applaud to everyone who worked on this 👏 something's brewing and I'm so excited to see what comes next. Apparently, I owe my moot a can of rizz soda so chat, I'll see you all at the next one, and remember: numbers go first........

...so *slowly turns chair* Team, what's up with that title huh? you ain't slick, "SMG4: IT'S A ME..." is LITERALLY a few words away from "SMG4: IT'S GOTTA BE PERFECT". and HEY, what's up with the framing showing the DOOR, huh? NO i'm not delusional, ANSWER MEEEE /silly

[conceptionsofconciousness]

Ashwini Nakshatra: The Color Blood Red's influence through all 12 Houses

The blood red color of Ashwini Nakshatra brings the following traits into the inner self or personality:

The hue of blood red significantly influences various personal characteristics, evoking a wide range of emotions and traits that are deeply intertwined with the human experience. This vibrant color is often associated with dynamism and enthusiasm, suggesting heightened activity and engagement. It embodies a sense of vitality and rejuvenation, reflecting a high metabolic rate that fuels physical and emotional pursuits. The fearless nature often linked to this color indicates a tendency toward boldness and intensity, motivating individuals to embrace challenges with fervor and determination.

Moreover, blood red symbolizes powerful emotions such as passion and love, acting as a catalyst for deep connections and intense relationships. It ignites feelings of desire and lust, stimulating arousal and affection that can lead to profound interpersonal bonds. However, this color also has a dual nature, as it can evoke aggression and anger, manifesting in more volatile expressions of emotion. The intensity of blood red can thus be seen as a double-edged sword, capable of inspiring both profound love and fierce conflict.

In a broader context, the associations of blood red extend to themes of violence and warfare, reflecting the darker aspects of human nature. This color can symbolize primal instincts related to survival, evoking a sense of urgency and the instinctual drive to protect oneself and one’s territory. The psychological implications of blood red are complex, as it encapsulates the full spectrum of human emotion, from nurturing affection to the raw intensity of terror and aggression, illustrating the multifaceted nature of our responses to this striking color.

The blood red color of Ashwini Nakshatra influences each Astrological house in the following ways:

This is for when Ashwini Nakshatra is active within a house in a horoscope. How does Ashwini become active in a house? When a planet is within Ashwini Nakshatra located within a house, or when the house cusp itself is located within a Nakshatra. This can be seen by looking at most charting programs, and looking at the degree of the house cusp (often in zodiac sign), followed by researching what Nakshatra that house cusp degree is associated with. Quick sidenote. This is not a precious art and a concept I have been working with since learning about Nakshatra colors. I would recommend checking both Nakshatra house color along with any planets with a Nakshatra in a particular house. Feel free to comment on your input because I am very interested. When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 1st house:

The hue of blood red has a significant influence on the tangible aspects associated with the first house of the astrological chart, which includes elements such as the individual's personality, assertiveness, and overall temperament. This color plays a crucial role in shaping one's self-esteem and the outward attitude expressed to the world. Additionally, it is linked to the physical body, particularly the head, hair, and facial region, emphasizing the connection between this vibrant color and the fundamental characteristics that define a person's presence and identity.

Example: The influence of the color blood red on the 1st house can result in a passionate and intense attitude. The individual is likely to exhibit assertiveness, energy, and a fearless demeanor. Blood red can make a native very loving and compassionate when connected to the 1st house.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 2nd house:

The hue of blood red significantly impacts the material aspects associated with the second house of the astrological chart, which includes the acquisition of possessions, communication styles, family relationships, business management, and dietary habits.

Example: The influence of blood red on the 2nd house can create excitement around ownership. It may lead to a powerful or aggressive speaking style, with potential outbursts of anger in one's voice. There may be a strong love for food, accompanied by a high metabolism. The presence of blood red in the 2nd house can make a native very affectionate towards family, feeling invigorated when spending time with them.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 3rd house:

The hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects associated with the third house in astrology, which encompasses various dimensions of personal development and social interaction. This color affects one's perspective on growth, shaping how individuals approach their initial independence and the actions they take as a result. It also plays a crucial role in forming subjective beliefs and opinions, as well as in how individuals perceive their surroundings.

Furthermore, blood red indicates one's ability to promote themselves effectively, impacting interpersonal relationships within both the community and immediate social circles. Additionally, it influences short-distance travel and excursions, highlighting the dynamic interplay between personal experiences and the broader environment.

Example: The influence of the color blood red on the 3rd house can lead to an active social life. Individuals may feel invigorated and excited when spending time with others. There may also be a passionate drive for personal growth. Blood red can inspire intense subjective opinions, with a love for sharing them openly. This color can create a fearless individual who enjoys exploring their local environment, potentially exhibiting aggressive driving tendencies and road rage.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 4th house:

The hue of blood red exerts a significant influence on the concrete aspects associated with the fourth house in astrology, which encompasses various elements integral to personal and familial life. This color resonates with the foundation of one's emotional identity, reflecting deep-seated feelings and connections. It pertains not only to the physical dwelling but also to the broader category of real estate.

Moreover, blood red symbolizes domestic possessions and luxuries that enhance the living environment, as well as modes of transportation that facilitate mobility and connection to the outside world. Additionally, this color is linked to the chest area, highlighting its relevance to both physical and emotional well-being.

Example: With blood red influencing the 4th house, an individual may be very active in their personal life. They often exhibit great love and affection toward their family, especially the mother figure. Deep down, they may harbor a desire for power, approaching many life experiences as battles to be conquered. Owning a home can be of utmost importance, as having a dwelling may feel like a matter of survival. Blood red's influence can also foster a love for fast and exciting vehicles, such as sports cars.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 5th house:

The hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects associated with the fifth house in astrology, which encompasses various dimensions of personal expression and creativity. This vibrant color is linked to the ways individuals articulate their identities and engage in creative endeavors, shaping the nature of their artistic outputs and the media they produce. Furthermore, it affects one's perspective on their creations and their approach to romance and dating, infusing these experiences with passion and intensity.

Additionally, blood red plays a role in the enjoyment of leisure activities and hobbies, while also enhancing one's propensity for taking risks in the pursuit of pleasure and self-fulfillment.

Example: The impact of blood red on the 5th house can lead to an actively creative personality. These individuals often display unparalleled passion and intensity for their hobbies. Through their creations, they express what they deeply love. Any media they produce may convey an aggressive tone to communicate a message or evoke an emotion in the audience. Blood red's influence on the 5th house can result in a loving, affectionate, and somewhat lustful disposition. If they have children, they may find their lives invigorated by their presence. On the downside, blood red in this house can potentially lead to violent or aggressive tendencies toward children and romantic partners.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 6th house:

The color blood red exerts a significant influence on the tangible aspects associated with the sixth house of the astrological chart, which includes various elements such as the professional environment, competition dynamics, and strategies for dealing with adversaries and conflicts.

Example: The influence of blood red on the 6th house brings a bold energy to handling competition and opponents. Individuals with this influence may display a desire for power over their adversaries, fearlessly competing and striving to overcome challenges. Blood red can also inspire passion and a high level of energy in their work, making them feel invigorated when engaged in tasks. However, this intensity may lead to aggressive behavior towards co-workers, treating the workplace as a battleground.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 7th house:

The hue of blood red significantly influences the tangible aspects associated with the seventh house in astrology, which encompasses various dimensions of interpersonal relationships and social engagements. This color affects how partnerships are navigated, shaping the dynamics of collaboration and mutual understanding. Additionally, it plays a crucial role in public interactions, influencing how individuals present themselves and engage with the broader community.

Moreover, blood red is linked to concepts of fame and public image, affecting how one is perceived in the social sphere. It also has implications for contractual agreements, emphasizing the importance of commitment and the binding nature of partnerships.

Example: Blood red within the 7th house indicates an individual who leads a very active relational life. Much of their energy may be directed toward being with "the one." They feel most alive when with their spouse or partner. This color can bring passion, lust, and an overflowing sexual nature in relationships. Such individuals may impulsively enter into relationships, feeling excitement at the prospect of coupling. Their interactions with the public can be intense. At their worst, they may exhibit significant anger toward their partners and others in public. They may also treat their relationships as if their life depends on them.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 8th house:

The hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects associated with the eighth house in astrology, which encompasses dimensions such as assets and resources derived from others. This color also plays a crucial role in the regeneration of emotional states, facilitating the processing of external influences that individuals encounter. Furthermore, it enhances receptivity to the verbal expressions of others, allowing for a deeper understanding and integration of their values. Additionally, blood red symbolizes the connection to the values upheld by other families, highlighting the importance of these external frameworks in shaping one's emotional and material landscape.

Example: Those with blood red influencing the 8th house take a very active interest in the resources that others can provide. A significant sense of power may come from having a say in controlling the resources of others within a shared arrangement. Here, blood red can even bring anger and violence over issues concerning money in relationships or business arrangements. Blood red in the 8th house can evoke excitement when someone shares something with them, and they may feel invigorated by simple conversations. The danger associated with blood red in this house may arise from aggression directed toward themselves or against the families of a spouse, potentially leading to conflicts with in-laws.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 9th house:

The hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects associated with the ninth house in astrology, which encompasses various elements. These include the capacity for abstract reasoning, an openness to new experiences and perspectives, the ability to assimilate diverse viewpoints, and the exploration of philosophical concepts. Additionally, this color is linked to participation in rituals, the dissemination of information through mass communication, and the execution of extensive advertising initiatives. The 9th house is also associated with the hips, knees, and thighs, which may influence the types of coverings chosen for these areas.

Example: The color influencing the 9th house brings an active energy to the desire for new experiences. Individuals with this placement are often invigorated by gaining new perspectives. Blood red in this house can also stimulate a high metabolism for absorbing higher educational courses. A natural love for religion and beliefs can emerge when blood red is present in the 9th house, sometimes to the extent that an individual may become heated or aggressive regarding their convictions.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 10th house:

The hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects associated with the 10th house in astrology, which encompasses various elements of one's public persona and societal engagement. This color resonates with the outward expression of the self as perceived by others, encapsulating the essence of public aspirations and the core identity that one projects in social contexts. It also pertains to the allocation of time and effort in daily activities, reflecting the individual's commitment to making a meaningful impact within the community. Furthermore, blood red symbolizes the connection to public real estate and the establishment of safe spaces that foster communal well-being and security.

Example: Blood red in the 10th house indicates that an individual is often passionate about or deeply invested in their career. There can also be a significant amount of time and energy dedicated to public aspirations, leading to a strong desire to stand out in the crowd. Since the 10th house relates closely to public identity, blood red in this house can instill a sense of fearlessness in the eyes of others. Individuals with this placement may be known for their assertiveness and desire to make a significant impact in the public realm.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 11th house:

The deep hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects associated with the 11th house in astrology, encompassing various dimensions of social and creative engagement. This color symbolizes worldly creative expression and acts as a catalyst for innovative endeavors aimed at improving societal conditions. It also pertains to tangible manifestations intended for public consumption, emphasizing the importance of performance in communal settings.

Additionally, blood red represents the willingness to take risks in the pursuit of enhancing the world and the enjoyment derived from participating in recreational activities within public spheres. Moreover, it reflects the dynamics of group affiliations and the relationships cultivated with friends, highlighting the interconnection of personal creativity and social interaction.

Example: Since the 11th house extends from the 10th house, blood red in the 11th signifies an active personality driven to create something impactful in the world. Individuals with blood red positioned in the 11th house may feel energized to take risks, which can lead to financial gains through their efforts. These individuals are often socially active and thrive in the company of others. They enjoy having fearless, intense, and dynamic friends to engage in activities with.

When Ashwini Nakshatra and Blood Red is associated with the 12th house:

The deep hue of blood red significantly influences the concrete aspects related to the 12th house in astrology, which encompasses various themes such as liberation and the release of attachments. It also relates to the depletion of vitality and the potential erosion of one's identity, as well as the tendency to merge with one's surroundings.

This color is also associated with experiences that address societal challenges. The development of spiritual abilities related to sound or latent energies is explored within this house. Furthermore, the 12th house plays a role in facilitating meditative states or dreamlike experiences, highlighting its multifaceted impact on both personal and collective realms.

Example: With the color red in the 12th house, being active and expressing energy outwardly can be quite exhausting. Individuals with this placement may shy away from risk-taking, likely preferring a more conservative approach to life. Given that the 12th house is linked to isolation, red in this position can foster a love of solitude, along with a sense of personal power that may not be experienced elsewhere. In dream states, red in the 12th house can lead to intense dreams, allowing these individuals to experience the fearless and vibrant life they struggle to achieve in their waking hours.

Nakshatra Colors Influence through Houses Masterpost (Link collection of all 27 Nakshatras)

[blackwaves]

this is such a nice way to put it all— i'm so fond of bsd forever and i think its relationship to literature is so crucial. bsd is fascinating and captivating on a surface level to me, but the more layers you skin off, the more the strength and consideration of asagiri's storytelling become apparent.

he is saying so, so many interesting things about the classics he invokes and the authors that wrote them. it is always transparent that he puts so much care and thought into them— i think a lot about him encouraging readers to get more into the literature associated with bsd, and the efforts he's made to encourage this wrt museum exhibitions etc. idk i've done a lot of reading into books and papers i would not normally have gone near without bsd and doing it has only ever strengthened my love for bsd, because it's so apparent that asagiri is purposefully engaging with each of these classics+their authors in ways that run far beneath the surface.

i think a lot about this post and what it says about death in bsd; the deathbaiting in bsd is playful and purposeful (getting baited by asagiri wrt a death fakeout is like losing at chess to a dog. etc.) but it's fascinating to me that imo he's saying something about it and it very deeply ties into the themes of bsd. manga where the creators of the literature that echoes through time and makes you feel years and years later are still alive. manga that is so deeply in conversation with those authors and the themes of their works— the way that bsd is always, always asking questions and so fundamentally curious, so fundamentally inquisitive. the way that atsushi is the protagonist of bsd partially because asagiri sees himself in his narrative. the way that asagiri plays with the core threads/themes of different authors and places them together in ways that are never coincidental; authors who were inspired by one another's works and and who never knew one another and everything else, spread across years and deaths and births.

(people who are bad at living. people who learn to live through literature. bsd always, always asking: how do you live? why do you live? why are you alive? bsd always having a different answer. each character's response different, each character's response another answer coming from the past)

idk just: feel strongly / that's what you do when you want to experience the past. "do past and present and future even exist as separate things, or is that a hand, extending from one hundred years ago to right now to hold mine?" is a good way to put it.

the last line being "feel strongly / that's what you do when you want to experience the past" is so important to me genuinelyyyyyyy like. god. god. the dead authors manga for people who are bad at living. the lack of a solid time setting when it comes to bsd in a very deliberate way. the things that asagiri is always always saying about death as a transient state through bsd. fiction and emotion and death and the aftershocks that these dead authors and their literature leave across history.

[completeoveranalysis]

Of Yūko's customers, which ones you find most memorable?

Most memorable customers, you say?

I hope you don't mind me using this as an excuse to make an arbitrary list by way of answer. (Arbitrary lists, my beloved...)

Yuuko's Customers In Order Of How Well I Remember Them

(Though I will exclude all the bigger characters for fairness. So, Syaoran, Watanuki, Lava Lamp, Fai, Kurogane, Doumeki, Himawari, Seishirou, Ashura, Tomoyo, etc, etc. Regular xxxHolic customers only!)

10. Birdcage Customer

What was this about? Was he even a customer? We just don't know!

But the thing most memorable about this whole situation is the most pressing question: WHY DO YOU HAVE EVIL WOLVERINE'S SYMBOL ALL OVER YOUR HOME? It's even on his front sign!

WHO ARE YOU?????

9. The Liar

Mostly at the bottom because I can't resist the irony. She's the first big customer we see - but what do we really know about her? Absolutely nothing, because she lied every step of the way!

What can we really remember about someone who never actually told us anything about herself?

Though I guess you could say her ending causes quite an impact.

8. Monkey's Paw Customer

Did I forget this had happened? Perhaps!

She's one of those cases where the cause and effect are so clear that the rest of the cast might as well not even be there - and I think most of her story IS told through scenes entirely from her perspective.

I think the most memorable thing about her is the Sheer Audacity of hunting down a monkey's paw and being convinced that, actually, she already knows what it does so it can't possibly go wrong. Love that for her. Would kill for this confidence.

(Not literally - but she kind of did that also)

7. Ame Warashi

Her impeccable style. Her winning charm. She's an icon.

I had just completely forgotten that she was also a customer at one point.

She makes up for it for being absolutely great in every scene she was in, but what are you going to do in a list based purely on how well I remember the customer part? Woops! My bad!

6. Karasu Tengu

They get huge points for this being a Central Event in the narrative, but also I completely forgot they were in this as customers. The entire plot scenario? Incredible! Character defining! Et cetera!

The actual Karasu Tengu themselves? Woops! I forgot they were there. My fault though!

5. The Computer Addict

I love this one. She's so ahead of the curve that she was addicted to the internet back when you had to be on the pc to use it. Honestly, relatable. I also went through a phase like this as a young teen, so the struggle was real.

Little did we all know that in the present day the accessibility of the internet would be so rampant that she literally wouldn't even need that pc to indulge her habits anymore. Oops!

But that aside Yuuko is peak during this arc and I love everything about it. Especially the fact that Yuuko just hangs out on message boards in her free time? Wonderful information. I can do so much with this.

4. Oops! All Ghosts

Another incredible storyline. The twists are preserved by some sneaky panels from Watanuki's perspective and Yuuko's morally grey approach to the whole situation is wonderful. What if you wanted to get rid of the ghost in your home, only to find out that YOU were the ghost all along? It has the DISTRESS. It has the CONFLICT. It has the TRAGEDY. 10/10

3. Haunted Photo

Another customer with Peak Audacity. Trying to wish away the consequences of your own actions? Committing something awful but being unable to actually look at the proof yourself? The ultimate wish being an anxiety inducing curse that is sure to fail? Love it.

It's also one of those juicy situations where the morality of the situation basically drives itself. The customer causes her own problems and can't actually be saved - and doesn't deserve it either.

And honestly I think CLAMP should get a lot of credit for having the haunting effects of a photograph slowly turning around in a purely static medium. They really pulled that off.

I still love the evil smile in the photograph the last time we see it. PURE memorable.

2. The Twin

WE LOVE HER? WE LOVE HER.

Being consistently cut off and run down and overwritten and slowly clawing your way out of the situation through the sheer desire to be your own person?

And then the answer is a haircut?

It's another glimpse into the side of Yuuko that really does try cut people a good bargain. The wish could have been taken in any number of ways, but Yuuko went for the easiest and most affordable way that would genuinely help the customer actually fix her life on her own. She didn't specifically need supernatural help for this, but it was the route that presented itself, and it was the one that got her the help she needed when she needed it. Very hitsuzen, very relatable, very identifiable storyline that sticks with you.

Just like the final entry!

1. Kohane

Listen do I even need to explain this one.

Kohane is like THE storyline. It's THE example of what it's all about. It's not entirely supernatural in nature but completely heart wrenching. It has Watanuki playing a central role in fixing the problem, setting up for his future (or at least, what I assume it will be). It ties xxxHolic to Tsubasa and hints at a secret tool that will help with someone later.

And it has Kohane! You can't go wrong.

[fragmentedblade]

I think I've become an official HI3 player. I check the HSR leaks hoping for iterations of HI3 characters now

[xylatox]

Dark Water | cbg

I've made it!! I've been excited to read this one too, I've read Jjae's work before (Strawberry Land Event) ( I literally only just realized but I'll talk more about that after lol), but I'm so excited to read more of your work!!

The rules were easy to follow, really. Simple, concise. Don't swim through bubble rings, keep a spare bag of shells in case of emergency, and stay far away from the drop-off point. — the beginning is already amazing. It already creates thus suspense that has you uneasy but also filled with wonder yknow.

You leaned back on your elbows, pearlescent tail absently flicking ahead of you being the only thing that could give away your position. The long, gossamer-like fins tapered into pretty, elegant points. Delicate. That was a good way to describe you. Though, you supposed your given title was a bit more apt than you'd like to admit. — the descriptions?? immaculate.

The way reader is the Pearl of the Sea, a title that clearly has a weight to it and ironically feeds into the temptation? I love it.

To be your own thing, your own merman, free from your peoples watchful eye, from your father’s. — I love when characters have parental issues, because it becomes such a driving force plot wise.

Your brow creased as you read further on, eager for the context behind the title, The Banishment of the Dark Cecaelia.  — the title??? how do you come up with this omg.

I am such a loser when the theme of cannibalism comes up. Like whether it's literal cannibalism or used as an expression of love, it absolutely drives me insane.

Oh? That gave you pause. This was the first time you had heard someone speak of the Dark Cecaelia in such a manner. Was that… thirst you detected in that woman's tone? How peculiar. — oh this has me giggly

THE LITTLE ONE NICKNAME????? WHAT IF I DIED.

“You could say that.” Fuck. Right. Of course. Who else were you expecting it to be? Perhaps you were hoping for it to be a younger merman, playing pranks on passerbys. How unfortunately wrong you were. — I love how intense this feels

I love that Gyu is misunderstood when referencing the scrolls, like it makes you wonder more about his kind.

Hehe Gyus entire reveal! I'm absolutely obsessed with the tension between them.

“Easy, pretty. Easy.” A hand gripped your chin gently, much more gently than you could have ever expected, and guided you to look into his eyes. Gods those eyes, you could get lost in them forever, fall and fall and fall and never escape their depths. Your body immediately relaxed upon the eye contact, turning as soft as kelp in his hold. — what if I go insane and die.

“You will disappoint me no longer. You will become King someday, and I will be damned if I let childish rebellion be the end of our powerful kingdom. Leave me.” Your father waved his wrist, not even sparing you a glance. — shitty dads always annoy me, it hurts that despite all that, reader continues to yearn for his approval.

Suckers pulled at your skin, leaving angry red blooms across your soft skin, and it fucking burned. Gone were the sure, strong touches you were yearning for, all was replaced by the way this cecaelia seemed to want to rip you to shreds.  — this is insane???? the way reader is literally fighting for his life, insane.

“You are not like your father.” He spoke with finality, like he was unsure of the truth of the statement before, like you had just proved him wrong. Perhaps you had. Perhaps he saw you differently, now. The thought should make you preen, but it only served to make you glower, anger slowly simmering back to life. — despite the literal hell readee went through, I love that Gyu just wants reader to fight, it's kind of sweet.

“Once we are home, I will tell you,” He soothed, like he was speaking to a fussy infant. The implication of his tone made your ears warm. Home? He must have seen your expression at the word, and your subsequent confusion over it, but he made no move to clarify. As far as he was concerned, it seemed his home was now yours. Maybe that was enough for now, your thoughts grew too muddled to properly sort them, so you succumbed to the urge to return to the safety of his neck. — this is absolutely insane??????

Reader finally learned Gyus name :((( I'm so fucking soft rn, the way they're together?? obsessed.

“My pearl,” He replied in kind, delicately cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He had that soft, awed look on his face again that made you feel wholly wanted, wholly desired. You sighed against his palm, leaning into it to press a kiss to the skin closest to your lips. “If you do this, you can never go back. You know this, right?”— god I love their dynamic and relationship so much what the fuck.

They got their happy ending :((( I'm so glad reader took control of his life and is happy. Jjae!!! this was a wonderful read! I had the pleasure of reading your fic for the Strawberry Event, back when I started to become active and it was literally the most insane thing I read like???? it was so good??? (i was also slow as fuck (i skip most warnings ngl) and i didnt even realize you wrote a male!reader but youre so fucking cool for that??)your writing is so intense and insane I absolutely love it. I'm so glad I got to read another one of your works!

Dark Water.

pairing; cecaelia!beomgyu × merman!reader

genre; horror/thriller (??? I think??? theres a lot of tension.) Suggestive, no explicit smut. Hint of fluff.

warnings; lots of tension, implied/referenced sexual content, light petting, this is basically 90% foreplay and tension, mentions of cannibalism, blood and injury, reader gets attacked yk the vibes, character death (but not main!!!), older gyu/younger reader vibes, merman/kingdom au.

synopsis; The rules were easy to follow, really. Simple, concise. Don't swim through bubble circles, keep a spare bag of shells in case of emergency, and stay far away from the drop off point. ― The Pearl of the Sea, you were called. A pretty little prince, beloved by all within the city. You followed the rules. Plans had been made for your whole life, all you had to do was stick to it.

Beomgyu was never part of those plans.

wc; 10,847 (oof... longest fic to date.)

jjaes comments; *slaps roof of fic* this bad boy can fit so much unnecessary lore in it. sorry theres no smut in this one. I want to eventually circle back and turn this into a full blown chaptered fic. in the words of serene, kills myself.

[m.list] [event m.list]

The rules were easy to follow, really. Simple, concise. Don't swim through bubble rings, keep a spare bag of shells in case of emergency, and stay far away from the drop-off point. 

The drop-off point which was, funnily enough, immediately before you. You lounged on a soft bed of seagrass, your short platinum hair floating along to the whims of the warm current around you. You were decently tucked away from view, having found a small alcove just off the main seagrass plains. You leaned back on your elbows, pearlescent tail absently flicking ahead of you being the only thing that could give away your position. The long, gossamer-like fins tapered into pretty, elegant points. Delicate. That was a good way to describe you. Though, you supposed your given title was a bit more apt than you'd like to admit.

The Pearl of the Sea, you were called. A pretty little prince, beloved by all within the city’s gleaming mother-of-pearl walls. You were a treasure among treasures, the only son of the Iron King sat upon the gleaming throne of the sea. Your father had a commanding presence, far more than your own, but you didn't seem to mind that. No, a pretty little thing like yourself was occupied with little else than keeping your head down and getting your work done perfectly. You held perfect grades, you were the shining smile present at every charity event, a giver to the people who fawned over you. That favour seemed to compound when you remained oblivious to it, a humble, delicate thing. 

Who was currently breaking one of the most serious rules you had ever been given. It wasn’t even your idea, something had called you here. Perhaps not vocally, but there was a siren song around this forbidden area. How could something so beautiful be so condemned? So after a particularly stressful day of studying and volunteer work, you finally gave in to the sweet temptation. 

The sight wasn't as captivating as you expected it to be. Sure, the overlook to the deeper waters, far more dangerous than the shallows you've spent your life in, were fascinating. You witnessed aquatic life, both plant and animal, in a way you had never taken the time to do before. Just observing, watching the way natural life unfolds when it is too far from your fathers influence to be contained. 

Though, after the sun's rays began to turn the surrounding water to honey hues, you had begun to grow bored with just observing. Part of you longed to know what it felt like, even for a moment, to be away. To be your own thing, your own merman, free from your peoples watchful eye, from your father’s. 

Oh, gods. What would he think if he knew you were here, now? He would surely be angry, surely would demand an answer that you didn’t have. Why did you come out here, anyway? You weren’t entirely sure yourself. You glanced up to the water's surface, the sunset refracting through the gentle waves and bathing you in the gentle warmth of the last light of day. Your eyes slid shut for a moment, basking in the peace. You had to savour moments like these, stolen seconds that you kept close to your heart when the stress of your structured life got too rough to handle. 

With a sigh, a pretty trail of bubbles spilling past your lips, you pushed off of the seagrass, the blades tickling your fingers as they dug into the silt below for leverage. 

You left a gentle cloud of disturbed sand in your wake as you made to leave, casting one longing glance over your shoulder to the group of young flounders playing beyond the drop-off point. You’ll have to return soon, if not to be sure they remained unharmed. That was a noble enough cause for return, right? Something your father would be slightly more hesitant to deny you if you brought it up as defence, surely. 

Content with the newfound addition to your schedule, a strong flick of your tail helped carry you closer and closer to home. 

–

The scroll room was a quiet place, compared to the hustle and bustle of the city just outside its walls. Shelves upon shelves, chests on chests were overflowing with information ripe for the picking, and you were a near permanent fixture here. Small and eager, tucked between shelving units as you delved into another scroll. This was a more recent historical account, it seemed, from the first years after your birth. You could hardly be expected to remember much from that time, your memories being mostly of your mother and the gentle tingle of your favourite shell toy.

You had no idea those years were so.. Dangerous. 

Your brow creased as you read further on, eager for the context behind the title, The Banishment of the Dark Cecaelia. 

Cecaelia? That rang a bell. Octopus mermaids, you recalled. Fearsome chimera not too unlike your own people in appearance, but worlds apart in behaviour. You recall bedtime stories about the drop-off point, lessons hidden in rhyme of the dangers that awaited those who ventured too far into the deep water. But what dangers were you warned of? You struggled to remember. 

The cecaeliae were once a proud people, fearsome in both behaviour and sheer number. They populated every inch of our kingdom, they ran shops, held office not unlike the rest of us do. But there was always something different, something darker in nature about these chimera, that we civilized mermaids simply could not abide by.

The issues came to a head during the Great Famine. Food was scarce, resources were far scarcer. Mermen, women and children alike were floundering in hunger, and the kingdom fell into despair. Our great King was working tirelessly, attempting to solve our issue. Our top scientists blamed the issue upon overpopulation and the rising water temperatures, both of which we could do little about.

But the Dark Cecaelia had a plan. He held high office, the King's right hand in both peace and wartime, and he claimed to have devised a solution to our problem. Something he claimed would reduce our numbers in a controlled way, and would solve our hunger problems simultaneously. 

Your eyes widened upon the sight of the next word. 

Cannibalism. 

No, that couldn’t be. Sure, mermen were omnivorous, capable of eating a wide variety of foods, but.. turning to cannibalism seemed too barbaric. Too uncivilized. Apparently, this Dark Cecaelia held no such opinions. Now that you think about it, were cecaeliae omnivorous like other chimeras? Octopi were carnivores… So did that imply that cecaeliae followed by the same rules? You shuddered at the thought of sharp teeth and venom.

He sought an audience with the King, and brought before him a properly devised plan. Down to the smallest detail, the way they would select the expendable and feast on their flesh, using cecaelia venom to minimize the agony of the selected. “Humane” methods, he claimed. The court was horrified at the extent to which this plan had been drawn to. In a fit of righteous rage, the King demanded how the Dark Cecaelia could have drawn up this horrific solution on such short notice, to which he shrugged, claiming it was the most logical and obvious solution to our societies' issues.  

The senate convened, terrified that if they denied the Dark Cecaelia his plan, that it would come to fruition in the form of a coup. The decision to banish all Cecaelia from the kingdom was immediate and unanimous. The Dark Cecaelia himself was brought before his kin and his hair was cut in a ceremonial message of disgrace before he, too, was banished to the deep water beyond the drop-off point for the rest of time. 

You snapped the scroll shut with shaking hands, eyes wild with fear. The drop-off point. The place you were lounging by with ease, the tips of your fin teasing over the edge of the cliff… The thought made you sick to your stomach. You could have been seen by your father, sure, but the thought of being seen by the Dark Cecaelia himself brought shivers down your delicate spine. How could you have relaxed there so flippantly, ignorant of the dangers lurking just below you, just out of sight? You could never return. That much, you were sure of.

–

“Did you hear?” 

“...Another sighting…”

You sighed loudly, bubbles tickling your cheek as they dissipated around you. News traveled fast, it seemed. There were more rumors now than ever before, though you paid no mind to it, preferring to stay in the comfort of your study material. 

“I heard the tentacles were blacker than any squid ink…”

“I heard they are as big as your forearm..! How terrifying…”

You’ve been reading the same line over and over for the past 5 minutes, the words failing to leave any lasting impression on your brain. It had been well over a full moon-cycle since you found yourself at the drop-off point, and apparently there had shortly thereafter been a poor merman who supposedly saw tentacles retreating into the inky blackness of the deep water. You had heard all the salacious (hyperbolic, too, no doubt) details, causing you to heave a bubbled sigh and continue with your work. You had more important things to do than to entertain such stories. You still feared the Dark Cecaelia, that much was true, but you began to grow apprehensive of the public’s view of him. They spoke of him as a legend, as a fable, treating him like he was merely a story instead of a recent blight within the kingdom. It had been 19 years since his removal from society, why were your people so confident about his absence to speak of him so freely? 

“Oh! And I heard–” 

You snapped your scroll shut, hands pressing palm-down onto the driftwood table before you. Your eyebrows pinched together in frustration, eyes squeezed shut to drown out the passerby’s comments. 

“I heard he’s hot. Devastatingly so.” 

Oh? That gave you pause. This was the first time you had heard someone speak of the Dark Cecaelia in such a manner. Was that… thirst you detected in that woman's tone? How peculiar. 

You shook the thoughts from your head. No, that was a most improper train of thought. You needed to focus, and this scroll room seemed to have no peace left to give you. With a delicate huff, you gathered your things and fled the room.

–

It seemed nowhere was safe from the mumbles about the Dark Cecaelia. The whole city– the whole Kingdom, it seemed– had heard of the recent supposed sighting. The comments within the city walls ranged from abject horror to… other topics. You don’t think you could stomach hearing another theory about what those tentacles could do. 

You had fled the Kingdom’s walls with no destination in mind. You only knew you needed to get out of there, to finally find some peace to continue your studies. If you were going to rule one day, you had to be perfect– there was simply no room for error. 

Though, perhaps you spoke too soon. You, in your panicked fleeing, had managed to get lost. Horrifically so. You were still in the shallows, it seemed, but night was approaching fast and you had no idea which direction home was in. Your heartbeat quickened to a dangerous pattering, fast and dangerous like the sound of a storm cloud emptying over the sea. Your head spun. How were you going to get home?

You pressed your shaking hands into fists, attempting to use the pressure to ground yourself. It seemed to work… Perhaps your studies about keeping your head under pressure like your father was paying off. You had half a mind to thank your tutor when you got home. When, yes. Not if. You’d make sure of it. What was it your father said to do when you got lost as a guppy? Breathe. Take stock of your surroundings.

You closed your eyes for a moment, the fading light of day still reaching beyond your closed eyelids. You sucked in a cool lungful of saltwater, letting the feeling wash over you before you opened your eyes slowly. 

Adjusting to the light, you slowly began focusing on the open shallows around you. The seagrass was sparse here, but you dont think youve ever seen such a large grouping of coral before in your life. There was all matter of aquatic life surrounding the reef, anemones and small schools of fish swimming about, playing together. The sight reminded you of the flounders at the drop-off point. You wondered if they were still safe, still playing just beyond your reach. 

Your eyes turned to the sections of kelp, swaying in the sea current and stretching up to the water’s surface. The current was moving west, you noted. Might be helpful to remember should you choose to follow it to see where it leads. Hopefully home.

When you glanced up to the water's surface, you could just barely make out the beginnings of stars in the dark expanse above it. What was it the scrolled called it? The sky? That sounded about right. A place where water floated in light groupings called “clouds” and sprayed their weight back into the sea where it belonged. You felt quite like the water in those clouds now, actually, far from where you belonged. That was when you heard it. 

You could almost convince yourself that it was a trick of the ears, but the deep gurgling behind you made the repetitive motion of your tail still. Something was behind you, something big. You didn’t want to turn around. Here you were, all alone, so far from home that you didn’t even know where you were, but–

The gurgling changed. It sounded repetitive, mirthful. A laugh? So it wasn’t a something but rather a someone. You weren't sure which was worse, really. A rogue sea creature or a sentient being. But the area around you appeared barren save for the small sealife. Who would even live out here? Who could?

“Little one.”

You bristled at the tone. The voice was deep. It rolled over you like too-warm water, thick and heady. You didn’t dare turn towards it.

“Lost?” 

The words seemed stunted, like they were coming from lips that were unsure of their form. This stranger couldn’t have been from the kingdom. Or, if they were– your brain supplied– they hadn’t been there in a very long time. 

“No,” Was your eloquent reply. You were hoping you sounded sure of yourself, like a future king. Like your father. The words fell flat, shaky and hesitant, betraying your nerves. The gurgling laughter began again with gusto.

“No? You seem lost. Frightened?” The voice sounded amused, like an angler toying with its food. The comparison made you uneasy. You were top of the food-chain, here. You should act like it.

With your shoulders squared, face set in a carefully blank expression, you finally turned.

Only to be met with nothing. Were you imagining the voice? Were you hallucinating? You had to be. You turned around, looking left and right–

Oh. To your right, just far enough away that it wasn't noticeable at first glance, was the drop-off point. The jagged cliff edge was unmistakable now that you saw it. Your shoulders did not lose any tension upon the new knowledge, though you were glad to be in a familiar place. Home wasn’t that far away.

But then the situation clicked in your head. The unfamiliar cadence of a voice unused to speaking in the common tongue, the location, the laughter.

“Are you the Dark Cecaelia?” You were unable to stop the words from tumbling from your lips in a rush of bubbles. You had half a mind to slap your hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from endangering yourself further. What were you doing?

The laughter came again, deep, guttural, twisted. You swallowed thickly, flicking your tail to back away slightly. You couldn't see over the edge, you were too far away. But even that distance seemed too little. Too close.

“You could say that.” Fuck. Right. Of course. Who else were you expecting it to be? Perhaps you were hoping for it to be a younger merman, playing pranks on passerbys. How unfortunately wrong you were.

“You were here before,” The voice continued, unperturbed by your fearful silence. You felt your blood run cold, like polar water had been dunked over your unsuspecting head.

“..You saw me.” It shouldn’t be surprising. Of course he saw you. Why wouldn’t he? If this is where he was banished to, why wouldn’t he see you lounging prettily at his doorstep? The idea that this faceless evil had been watching you from afar, while you sat unsuspecting, made you suddenly want to cry. 

“I saw you.” The cecaelia confirmed. He sounded much too amused for your taste, causing your brows to crease in frustration, lips drawing into a pretty pout.

“Why can’t I see you?” The unknown was too scary. It left your imagination to run wild, piecing together all the little rumors you tried to ignore upon first listen. They all came to you now. Ink-black, large tentacles, sharp teeth, venom, deep voice. You couldn't even begin to picture his face, what the rest of him looked like. Perhaps knowing, having concrete evidence of his appearance would vanquish the worst of your fear. You were skilled enough in combat, could probably flee with relative ease should this turn sour, but something was rooting you to the spot. Something deeper than fear, something stronger. 

Curiosity. The need for knowledge, the desire to know everything. It held you fast in your spot, unable to hide behind anything. You were in the open, with nowhere to run but away, as fast as your fins could take you. 

“Why do you want to?” That was a fair question. Why did you ask that of him? Why couldn’t you keep your curiosity to yourself? Why couldn’t you be stronger, fearless– …Like your father. Why couldn’t you be like him? What would he do now? You paused for a moment, considering your options. Running like a coward was lower on your list than ever, unwilling to experience the shame of such an act, lest your father find out. That only left confidence, something that was failing you presently. You cleared your throat, hoping it would find you now.

“Because it is impolite to not look one in the eyes when speaking. We are speaking, no? Why do you hide?” Fuck. Now you’ve done it. Directly confronting the Dark Cecaelia himself, taunting him to reveal himself when he was already being kind enough to spare you the terror of beholding him. Why did you want that confidence, again? It seeped from your body like blood from a wound. Could he smell blood? …Could he smell fear?

“Politeness is useless out here.” His voice still held the air of amusement you detected previously. That was good. You hadn’t made him angry just yet. However, his reply only brought about more questions. If the customs of your home were null and void out here, just beyond the kingdom’s reach, what did matter? How should you conduct yourself? You were used to rules, your whole life was planned before you. How should one behave in a vacuum of that security, without that safety net to fall back on? Your confusion must have been clear as day upon your face.

“Power is what matters. Survival. Base instincts.” He sounded closer, yet you still couldn't see him. He must be lingering somewhere nearby, taunting you. You felt the weight of his gaze, the intensity burning your scales like scalding seawater from a thermal vent. Where was he?

“Power, of which you have none.” His words cut you deep, a painful laceration to remind you of your place, here. You had nothing. You were at his mercy, and apparently he thought it imperative to remind you of it, to let the knowledge of your own helplessness seep into your body like venom.

“Power? I–” You hesitated. He was right, you were essentially powerless. This was, in fact, his home, his domain. You were the stranger here. Even more worrisome was the fact that while you were skilled in combat, you had never fought a cecaelia. All of those extra, powerful limbs.. Realistically, what could you do in the face of that? He was entirely correct. That gurgling laughter bubbled up again. It didn’t matter what direction you turned in, it felt like he was surrounding you. He was close, and it was making your heart race to know that you wouldn’t even see him coming should he attack.

“Name.” It wasn’t a request. He did warn you, you supposed. There were no formalities out here. No societal niceties where there was no society to begin with. Your hands trembled at your side as you clenched them into fists. Somehow, you could feel his gaze dip to watch the movement. 

The second your name fell from your lips, you could sense a shift. Something darker, much more dangerous swirled in the water around you. You had the gnawing feeling that you had just made a critical error. The laughter reached a fever pitch, near hysterical in its glee. 

“The King’s son.”

You nodded in affirmation, the movement jerky and hesitant. Your tail twitched with the desire to flee, but the weight of that gaze kept you pinned. 

“Come to the cliff edge.” Another command. From his reaction to your name, you knew better than to try anything. He seemed on edge, now. Like a predator rearing back slowly, preparing to strike. You’ve never felt more like prey in your life, shivers licking up and down your spine and making your tail tremble as a result. That same shaking tail that carried you closer to what you could only assume was an attack. 

But no attack came. You peered over the edge slowly, big eyes wide so as to not miss a single movement in the water below. What your gaze caught on, however, was that same school of flounders you had seen before. They were playing again, tumbling around each other happily. Your eyes caught on something else floating around them, something you slowly began to recognise as fish food. You had a shell-full of it at home to feed your own pets–

Pets. 

These flounders were pets. His pets.

“You like them. You watched them play.” He was definitely watching you the entire time you were here last. But if he was right there watching you, why…?

“Why didn’t you come out last time?” You had to know. None of it made sense. Why wasn’t he attacking? Why did he not attack last time, either? Why was he so content to just sit and watch?

“Pretty,” was his simple reply. As if it was obvious, as if you were stupid for not figuring it out. Pretty..? Sure, you were familiar with the term, were used to it being used to refer to you. But like this? From his mouth, the word coated in that thick accent– it felt different. 

It felt good.

“That doesn’t–” You stumbled over your words, pink heat kissing the apples of your cheeks. “That doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you come out?” You felt a bit like a child right now. Petulant. Demanding. You normally never acted like this, like a whiny brat seeking attention, but the very idea that he was right here and chose to stay hidden and watch just rubbed you the wrong way. He should face you. He should watch you where you could s–

Oh. That’s a new thought. You wanted him to watch you, you didn’t want him to stop. What’s worse is you seemed to want to watch him watch you. Gods, what was happening to you? 

“I do not owe you an answer, little one. Do you need to be reminded again?” Heat continued to flush your cheeks, spreading down your chest and up to the tips of your ears. You burned with embarrassment, yet you still had half a mind to smack your tail against the silt out of childish frustration. Tears pricked your eyes, becoming one with the water around you.

“But, I–”

“But nothing. If there is something you want, you must say it with confidence. Anything less will get you killed out here.” He didn’t sound angry. On the contrary, he almost sounded amused, as if he was gently scolding a confused guppy. The feeling made your stomach turn in a way you were unfamiliar with. “The others are not nearly as kind as I am.”

Others. You had entirely forgotten that there was a whole group of cecaeliae out here, waiting to exact their revenge on the child of the King directly responsible for their exile. But that begs the question…

“Why are you so kind? The scrolls paint you as a heartless monster…” You trailed off, belatedly realising what you had just admitted. You had actively sought out information on him, you just admitted to wanting to know more. That knowledge was dangerous. 

“Why am I not what the scrolls say I am?” He finished for you, no doubt watching you closely when you nodded in affirmation. He paused for a moment, the contemplative silence stretching between the two of you. You ached to see him, to see what he looked like when he was so deep in thought, mulling over his next words with careful consideration. “Why are you not like your father?” 

Answering a question with another question? Classic deflection. The bratty guppy within you reared its ugly head again, this time you did not act quickly enough to tamp down the urge to show your frustration. An irritated groan spilled from you before you could stop it.

“Reveal yourself! I grow tired of this. Let me see you.” You whined, high and needy. You couldn’t control it. Everything this cecaelia said and did pulled these impulses up to the surface, coaxing your worst behaviours out of you with ease. He seemed to have greater control of you than you expected. 

“Hm.” He said nothing more. Silence stretched once again, but there was no contemplation, only stillness. As the seconds swam leisurely by, your anxiety only grew. How badly you wished to eat your words, to fix it, to hide those bitter impulses and bury them where they belonged. 

A hint of movement. Your eyes snapped to it immediately, catching the barest wisp of something in the depths. A tentacle, large and terrifying, slipped just out of view. Your breath hitched in your throat. 

There was another. Then another. You watched them as they squirmed and shifted in the dark water below the cliff, eyes following their lengths to where you hoped he would be. Up, up, up, your eyes followed until–

Eyes. Sharp, piercing, beautiful. Pretty lips and sharp teeth below a sculpted nose, stretched into a carnal grin.

“Thank you, pearl.” Oh, watching his mouth form the words, watching them fall from his lips like a bubble fountain. Gods, all the rumors were right, yet simultaneously did not do him justice. He was stunning, captivating in every possible way. He was so beautiful it was disarming, enough to distract you from just how sharp those teeth really were. No, you were too focused on the pink tongue that darted out to slide along their jagged points. 

Thank you..? Fuck. You said that out loud? You hadn’t been keeping track of yourself since you locked eyes with the Dark Cecaelia. You were much too entranced.

By the time you snapped out of it, you were far away from the cliff edge. You turned around in a flash of panic. How had you moved so far without feeling it? You had to squint your eyes to see the drop-off point, now. You–

Warm. Something warm and big was wrapping around your waist, circling around you entirely and holding you firmly. You looked down at it, stupefied. You should be scared. You should be fighting. You should do something– 

But why would you? It would be futile to fight, and instead of following your mind, you allowed yourself to fall into instinct. You went lax in the grip, allowing the cecaelia to turn you around to face him again. 

Hazy eyes met sharp ones, and you felt thoroughly scrutinized under his gaze. Like a flayed fish before him, stripped bare and vulnerable. You shuddered at the thought. Why? You had no idea. All sensible thought flew out of your mind the second you laid eyes on him. It was much easier to surrender to the feeling rather than fight it. 

He seemed to see something he liked within you, because he drew back with a cocky smirk stretching his lips. Your eyes followed the movement, enraptured. You took him in fully, seeing every detail up close. Shaggy hair fell around his shoulders, looking as if it were shorn by the dullest of blades. His skin was soft, almost begging you to touch. You wanted to touch, so you reached–

A tentacle grabbed you by the wrist, steadfast and secure. You tugged against it experimentally, once again going limp once you were sure the hold wouldn’t budge. By the time your eyes lazily made their way back up to meet his own, his face was much closer again.

“What spell is this..?” You croaked, voice thick and heavy. You couldn’t even begin to explain why you were so affected, only that you were. 

“You are lucky that I was the one who found you.” He easily ignored your question, and you watched in open fascination as his eyebrows creased in worry. You yearned to touch again, to smooth it out for him. Where were these urges coming from?

“Lucky..?” You echoed, cocking your head to the side. Something flashed in his eyes at the movement, and you swore you could feel the tentacle around your waist grip you just a little tighter. You squirmed. “Do that again.” You felt breathless, sounded breathless. You needed to feel that again. You needed to understand that feeling. Before you could clarify any further, a bell sounded in the distance.

A Bell. The belltower from home, signalling the turn of another hour. Home, where your father was no doubt waiting for you to return from the studies you abandoned. If the Dark Cecaelia noticed the way your entire body tensed at the sound and subsequent realisation, he didn’t mention it aloud. Instead, he just watched. His eyes trailed over every inch of your body as it remained stiff as coral under his touch. 

“Home…” You whispered. Your eyes were glazed over, clearly lost in a terrifying spiral of thoughts about what your father would do to you if he ever found out about this, about where you were, about who you were with– Shit. You had to get out of here, you had to–

“Easy, pretty. Easy.” A hand gripped your chin gently, much more gently than you could have ever expected, and guided you to look into his eyes. Gods those eyes, you could get lost in them forever, fall and fall and fall and never escape their depths. Your body immediately relaxed upon the eye contact, turning as soft as kelp in his hold.

“That’s it, pearl…” He soothed, voice deep and smooth, easing over your every worry like a healing salve. What were you so worried about, again…?

“You're going to go home in a moment, pearl– no, do not look at me with such fearful eyes. You will go home, but you will return to me. I expect you here by the second low-tide cycle every day, am I understood?” It was the most you had ever heard him speak in one go, and you were helpless to do anything but nod along. You’d agree to anything he said, it was far too great a temptation to give your assent when you were being held so firmly and spoken to so gently. He clicked his tongue behind razor-sharp teeth. He followed the sound with another command, “Words.”

“Yes…” You trailed, unsure of how long your voice would remain available to you. It felt like everything about you was fading in the face of such comfortable power. He cocked an eyebrow, expectant. You didn’t even have to think before the correct sentence bubbled past your lips, ticking both of your faces upon their exit from your pretty lips. 

“Yes, sir.”

–

“Where the hell were you? Do you have any idea how many guards I had scouring the Kingdom for you? Have you any clue the uproar your little vanishing stunt is going to cause?” Your father boomed, his voice slicing through the usually peaceful water within the pristine walls of the throne room. You kneeled before him, an acceptable distance away, head bowed in humility. Your hands were clenched together in fists in your lap, and you willed yourself to remain as perfectly poised as you had spent your whole life training to be.

“Father–”

“Save it. I do not wish to hear whatever feeble excuse you have to offer. My opinion remains the same. I have been far too gentle with you, allowing you to study in spaces of your choosing and on your own time. No more. You will adhere to a stricter schedule, and you are not permitted to leave your chambers until I deem you fit enough to be seen by the public once again.” Your father pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, and the hot shame of humiliation seeped into your bones slowly. What were you supposed to do? You could never raise a word against your father. While your subjects regarded you highly, they had no idea the power imbalance that occurred behind closed doors. They had no idea the treatment you truly faced within these gleaming walls, which, to you, seemed more akin to a prison. 

A gilded cage. 

“You will disappoint me no longer. You will become King someday, and I will be damned if I let childish rebellion be the end of our powerful kingdom. Leave me.” Your father waved his wrist, not even sparing you a glance. You sucked in a slow gulp of seawater, trying to steady your shaking limbs as you pushed yourself up from your place on the floor. You were used to this, but the humiliation never ceased. No matter how much you disliked your father, part of you continued to yearn for his approval, to be told you were enough, that you did well, that you were loved. But you knew your place. You may be related by blood, but the weight of the crown overshadowed any allegiance. 

So you accepted your fate with your head bowed, and made your way silently to your chambers under the watchful eye of a guard you had never bothered getting to know the name of.

–

Once the doors had been closed and locked behind you with a resounding finality, you allowed yourself to sink pathetically onto your bed. The soft sponge gave way under you, cradling your body as you tried to burrow deeper into its comfort. Maybe if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to hide from it all. 

You groaned. It was fruitless, of course. Running was never an option for you. You had a kingdom to take over one day, to rule over your subjects with an iron fist like your father and his father before him. Was that really you, though? The Pearl of the Sea, ruling like your father, the Iron King? It was unlikely. You knew you weren’t cut out for the same method of ruling, but he refused to hear it. What he wanted, he got, and that included you. You’d become whatever he wanted you to be, and you had no choice over the matter. When you lifted your head, your gaze caught on the closed shutters of your windows. 

If you were trapped here, you might as well be productive, right? Perhaps even enjoy the view? With limbs that felt like the lead on a fishing line, you eased yourself up and swam closer to your windows. You eased the shutters open, watching the waves far above you dance and refract the light of the sun above. You remember from your studies and first-hand sightings that creatures lived up there, whole civilizations thrived above water. Though part of that couldn’t quite make sense in your brain, especially when you were younger. How could one swim above water? How could one breathe? You knew better, by now, but it still seemed funny to you. You rested your head upon your hand, leaning against the windowsill as you continued observing and contemplating the world around you. Far off to the east, you could barely make out the looming shadow of the mainland, the grey rocks forming the cliffside were unmistakable. You remember seeing creatures with long appendages instead of tails, even recently hearing a group of merpeople set upon bullying a poor humanoid while you sunbathed on a nearby rock. You wouldn’t call them friends, not really. Friends aren’t as cruel or power-hungry as those merpeople were. You considered their behaviour to be much more in line with sirens than mermaids. In that case, the bullying wouldn't have surprised you. Sirens were tricky, fickle creatures. A darker variety of chimera like the cecaeliae.

Upon the thought of him, your eyes darted immediately to where the drop-off point was. You could just barely see the grass plains that lay before it. Sometimes, when the water currents were at ease and the water pollution was low, you could clearly see the outcrops of shale and volcanic rock that made up the drop-off point. To your knowledge, the area itself was set on the edge of a vast crater, deep and dangerous. No civilized merman would venture down there, not voluntarily. You had to be truly cruel to survive in such an environment, where most places within the crater not even the light dares to touch. 

Anything less will get you killed out here…

You shuddered at the memory of deep-voiced warnings, of warmth and the security and strength that came with being held fast and still by something bigger than yourself. The second low-tide cycle was usually around the few hours surrounding midnight, when the sky and sea were as dark as void. You were trapped up here, unable to leave the rooms that comprised your chambers. How were you supposed to honour your promise? Leaving the Dark Cecaelia waiting was simply not an option. You were not stupid enough to make an enemy of him.

This left you in quite the dilemma. You were at a crossroads, knowing either way could spell your ruin. Just what chances were you willing to take?

You shifted your gaze to the kingdom below you– or, more accurately, the ground far below your window. The sun would be setting soon, and with it, the tides would change. You sent one glance behind you to the doors, which remained untouched as they were when you first were locked inside. Your father had never loved you. No amount of following his commands would change that. But his enemy..? 

You would need to wait for the cover of night to find out.

– 

The eerie quiet of the seagrass plains were unsettling to say the least. You shifted the bag on your shoulder, your minimal items clinking together quietly. It was a good thing you had the foresight to wrap them in cloth first before absconding out your open window. Of course, you stuffed pillows under your sheets to make it appear you were there should someone open your door to check on you, but it was merely a precaution. You knew no one would. 

You didn’t have much, just a few essentials. Your pouch was filled with seashells, emergency rations and a few select weapons. You came out of your room with a goal in mind, and you were going to see to it that it was accomplished. 

Everything looked different under the glaring lack of illumination breaking through the waves overhead. The churning of them made you uneasy. There must be a storm kicking up. You frowned, finding it harder to swim toward your destination when the currents picked up more and more, the further you swam along. Your arm came up to shield your eyes from the silt that mixed in with the more aggressive currents, trying and failing to aid your view of the area surrounding you. Just a bit further, you could almost see the cliffs edge–

Warm. Something warm and big slithered around your waist, and you immediately wanted to relax into the touch but… Something about it. Something about the weight of it, the warmth, the feeling–

Wrong. It was all wrong. Immediately you began to thrash, to shake off the hold on your waist, but it was already too late. You were being dragged, harshly, through the churning water. You tried opening your eyes, willing to brave the onslaught of sand in order to free yourself, but you stopped short. Ink. You were surrounded by ink. You couldn't see out, and the chilling realisation settled in your body that it also meant no one could see you. Even if you managed to cry out for help loudly enough to catch someone's attention, cecaelia ink alone would dissuade them from coming to your aid. You were on your own, here. 

Suckers pulled at your skin, leaving angry red blooms across your soft skin, and it fucking burned. Gone were the sure, strong touches you were yearning for, all was replaced by the way this cecaelia seemed to want to rip you to shreds. 

“Evil thing,” The voice mocked you, unfamiliar and scary. “You will pay for your fathers crimes with your blood.” You couldn’t afford to be rendered still by fear, you had to move. You swung your arm out, reaching blindly for the bag you were carrying. If you could reach your weapons, if you could reach anything, you could better your chances of survival. You felt the brush of the familiar material against your fingertips, and you slammed your hand down on it, hoping it would give you enough leverage to grip the knife inside without leaving yourself too open to attack–

Crunch. 

White-hot pain seared up your arm. A scream bubbled from your lips, unbidden and guttural in its anguish. You didn’t need to see the damage to know that your forearm was broken. Quite badly, if the feeling was anything to go by. You had bigger issues to worry about. Snickers seeped into the inked water around you, amused by your pained cries. The grip on your waist loosened just enough for you to seize your chance. Swallowing the bile rising in your throat due to the pain, you reached again with purpose. Your fingers found purchase around the cold hilt of your knife. You were infinitely glad that the damaged arm was not your dominant one as you fixed your grip on your weapon. What was it your instructor always said?

Find an opening, strike.

You needed that opening. An opening you did not currently have, not with the way this cecaelia was ripping at your waist and tail. Sharp teeth and nails found your skin, tugging with the intent to tear you apart. It was working, clearly. The tangy smell of your blood mixing in with the disgusting smell of ink in the water. You were surely going to attract other predators if you didnt get out of here fast– assuming you lived long enough to do so.

Luckily, the bloodied wounds marring your skin proved to be just the opening you needed. The substance made the cecaelia’s grip slip off of your torso, leaving him unsteady and open for attack. Your previous combat practices rung in your ears. 

Strike.

You swung your good arm, striking the cecaelia and burying the knife deep into the side of his ribs. Clearly not anticipating the return of violence, he fell back just enough that his tentacles released you. You stood your own ground, now, falling into a much more familiar fighting stance. Your body was weary, coated in blood and your arm hurt, but the adrenaline settled into something worse than instinct. You were a predator, after all. 

Act like it.

You didn’t give the cecaelia time to recuperate. You took your opening and lashed with furious precision, a sick satisfaction blooming in you as you watched his blood seep into the water and mix with his own ink every time you drove the knife into him. Tentacles tried to grasp at you, but a harsh slash of your knife through the gummy flesh of the appendage, severing it from its host, took care of that problem. You couldn’t hear his screaming anymore, couldn’t hear him pleading for you to let him go.

Your previous fears about attracting predators in the nearby water were all but forgotten. You were the one with the scent of blood in your nose, and you wanted more. 

Slash, slash, slash– 

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. You didn’t even know if he was still trying to attack you anymore, but you didn’t take the chance to find out. You just kept stabbing, and stabbing, and stabbing–

“Little one.”

You whirled around, a crazed look in your eyes. You must have been quite the sight to behold; blood seeping from your wounds and into the water in delicate whisps, arm broken and turned in a way that looked wrong, bloodied knife clutched in a white-knuckled grip that you immediately raised upon instinct. 

“...How long were you floating there?” Your tone was flat, not truly asking a question. It was a demand– like your father would make. The Dark Cecaelia made no move to reply, instead studying your body as if taking inventory of your injuries. The action only stirred up the dark depths of your fury.

“I said…” You approached, chest heaving with the effort it took to keep yourself upright and battle-ready, “How long have you been fucking floating there!?” You were nearly on top of him now, face to face with the cecaelia you came here for, the one you just risked your life to meet at his behest. Your mind flew to wild places, accusatory voices in your head spewing volatile words towards him, ones that you were powerless in your current state to stop. 

“Where the fuck were you!?” You seethed, fist clenching around the hilt of the knife harder, preparing for a strike you had no control over. You were mad with rage, head clouded with bloodlust and self-preservation. Anyone around you was a threat, especially someone who sat there and watched you get attacked and did nothing. Watching. Was that all he ever did? It seemed that way, now. All he had ever done with you was observe, and it never failed to make your skin crawl. The weight of his gaze was too much, too overwhelming, too disarming. Go for the eyes–

A sting erupted in your wrist, forcing you to drop the knife. You were unable to do much else than watch it slowly sink to the sea floor. Your breathing remained uneven, body poised to strike even without the weapon in your hands. You raised the only good one left– Or, you tried to. It didn't move. You strained harder, staring down at the unresponsive limb. You grew frustrated, a growl rumbling in your chest at the mark on your wrist. At first glance, it might seem like a remnant of your earlier fight for your life, but you knew it was much too small to have come from one of your attacker's suckers. No, this was smaller, pointed, like a pinprick.

“Did you just sting me…? What fucking right do you have to do that–” 

“Little one.” He sounded insistent, now, imploring. The tone immediately doused the fire within you like a cool rain, snuffing out the embers of your rage with gentleness. You swallowed, jaw snapping shut.

“You did well. You defended yourself. You took a life in exchange for your own.” He paused, weighing the words in his mouth until he seemed to find the ones he was searching for. His eyes trailed from you to the heap of cecaelia meat behind you. To call it a body would be too kind. He met your eyes again, the moment stretching between you uncomfortably. You didn’t dare speak. He stung you already. It wouldn’t take much else to snuff your life out entirely right now. 

“You are not like your father.” He spoke with finality, like he was unsure of the truth of the statement before, like you had just proved him wrong. Perhaps you had. Perhaps he saw you differently, now. The thought should make you preen, but it only served to make you glower, anger slowly simmering back to life. 

Your arms dangled uselessly at your sides, one from your injury and the other due to his potent venom, but you ached with the need to attack. You were still too high-strung, too deep in your panic for survival. Without your arms, you felt far too vulnerable. You bared your teeth, nose scrunching when he made to approach you further. You snapped at his hand when it approached your face. Too fast, your mind panicked. Threat.

But the touch was soft. Reverent, gentle in a way that sent your fight-or-flight ridden brain into a tailspin. Just as you began to ease into the touch, his grip turned colder, tightening around your chin to force you to look at him. Your eyes snapped open. When had you closed them?

“Not at me. Never at me. If you are to learn to hold your ground properly against a cecaelia and escape unscathed, you will never bare your guppy teeth at me. Am I understood?” His tone was icy, commanding in a way that sunk into your skin like oil. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest still, yet his presence seemed to help even out your breathing anyway. You nodded shakily. His grip softened again, gathering your shaking form up and cradling you close in his arms.

“Close your eyes.” You didn’t really need the instruction, eyes closed as soon as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. You barely knew this creature, but the grip he held you in felt suddenly like safety, a welcome respite for your battered and stressed body. You felt water rush around you, the movement reminding you that you were being taken elsewhere with neither your knowledge nor permission, but you ignored it in favour of nosing against the column on his throat to seek out more of his body heat. 

A chuckle bubbling from his chest should have made you nervous, perhaps even shy, but you were too overwhelmed to react accordingly, to behave as proper as you should be. Customs were left at the Kingdoms gate as far as you were concerned. In his arms, traveling who knows where with this cecaelia… No longer were you a prince, and he your kingdom’s mortal enemy. Instead, you were just you, and he was just… God, you didn’t even know his name. 

“Your name..” You prompted, voice sluggish with exhaustion as it settled deep in your bones, “You never told me.” 

The laughter you had grown familiar with now rang out again, like what you had said was truly amusing. You lifted your head from its comfortable resting place with great effort, and he outright cooed at your bewildered expression. You pouted.

“You know mine, can I not know yours? It’s much too formal to call you by the title my father gave you. It feels insulting…” You confessed, eyebrows pulling together in a furrow. His thumb rubbed gentle patterns into your still-numb arm. 

“Once we are home, I will tell you,” He soothed, like he was speaking to a fussy infant. The implication of his tone made your ears warm. Home? He must have seen your expression at the word, and your subsequent confusion over it, but he made no move to clarify. As far as he was concerned, it seemed his home was now yours. Maybe that was enough for now, your thoughts grew too muddled to properly sort them, so you succumbed to the urge to return to the safety of his neck.

–

When you finally blinked your eyes open, you found yourself in a cave of some sort. The first thing you noticed was that the walls were smoothed out purposefully, little shelves carved into them to hold little bottles of glowing fluids and other interesting trinkets. Magic, your brain sluggishly supplied, cecaeliae can wield magic. 

The second thing you noticed was that you couldn't move. It wasn’t a frightening realisation, somehow your body knew before you looked down at yourself that you were still safe in the Dark Cecaelia’s hold. You took stock of yourself, your body felt… much better. Gone was the bone peeking through your non-dominant arm, it was just as it was before the attack, blemishless and supple skin returned to its former glory. You marveled at it for a second longer before your gaze trailed to the mass of tentacles wrapping around every part of your body. You followed them up, eyes lazily trailing up to meet the eyes of the Dark Cecaelia himself, who was already watching you with an unreadable look in his eyes. In the back of your mind, you registered that he was still rubbing soothingly over your no-longer-numb arm. 

“Beomgyu,” He spoke, voice deep and thick and settling over you as beautifully as his tentacles did. You blanked for a second, blinking at him with sleep still clinging to your lashes. What?

“Beomgyu?” You repeated, head lolling to rest against his shoulder. You were now eye level with his jaw, which you sleepily trailed your finger along the line of, feeling the stubble. It helped remind you that this was real, that he was here and holding you so safely. He smiled.

“My name.” He stated it simply, the hint of a shrug jostling your head ever-so-slightly. You frowned at the movement, which he somehow must have picked up on because he laughed. You wiggled in his grip in retaliation, testing how much you could move and– 

Oh. That felt nice. You felt his grip tighten on you when you struggled, though he knew your struggle was only for show and testing limits. The added pressure made your stomach flip in a way you were beginning to become familiar with. It only ever happened with him. With Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu.” You echoed it again, feeling the weight of it on your tongue, wrapping your lips around the vowels. You liked the way it felt to do so, to say his name and hear him hum in response. You didn’t have the brain power quite yet to notice that you sounded a little too breathless, a little too whiny.

“What is it, pretty?” He prompted, though you could tell by the way he spoke that he wasn’t quite looking for an answer. Your hand was splayed against his chest, and now that you noticed it, you simply couldn’t look away. Your fingers twitched against his skin, nails just barely biting into the flesh. He hummed again, the sound deep and stirring something within you again. 

“Do it again,” you breathed, echoing a request you remember uttering a day prior. Was it only a day ago that you felt this inexplicable pull, a dangerous desire for more? It was hard to wrap your mind around. Surely you were under some sort of spell, but by this point you didn’t care. You needed more. Needed more of Beomgyu.

He tilted his head, as if confused for a moment before realization dawned on him. Ah, yes, he remembered the last time you begged for him so sweetly like that, with not a clue in the world what you were truly asking for. It was adorable, truly. His grip tightened around you once again, pressing against your body from torso to tail. You choked on a gasp.

“Little one.” You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, head too fuzzy from the affect his actions had on you. All you could manage was a distant-sounding hum, and little else. He seemed pleased with that, if the rumble in his chest was anything to go by. You wiggled in his grip again, needy. Needy for what, you didn't quite know. 

“Little one,” He tried again. You hummed again, a bit faster this time. Why wasn't he doing it again? What was taking so long? “Do you even know what you want, right now?”

You shook your head. No, you didn’t. But you didn’t really care to, as long as he continued. 

The tentacles removed themselves from your body, and you keened high in your throat, indignant at being denied. Warm hands shifted your weight, making you sit up. You slowly met his eyes, and the intensity in them froze you in your place. His gaze trailed down, and the image of him staring at something near your lap, slack-jawed and wanting left you feeling like a red-hot iron. Hot, searing the water around you to a boiling point. You squirmed under the weight of it, and found yourself slowly following his gaze. What your eyes finally landed made you freeze.

A slit. Something you knew was there, realistically. You knew biology, of course, but the normally closed opening was open and dripping something thick. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You were aroused this whole time? God, if that's what it felt like, you no longer judged those who spent their lives seeking this pleasure. You found yourself gnawing at your lower lip upon the realisation. You hesitantly looked back up at him, hands moving to cover yourself. 

“I– I’m sorry if I made you uncom–” He cut you off, snatching your wrists and pulling them away from your lap. 

“Do not hide yourself from me. Tell me what it is that you want.” His words left no room for debate. They never did. He took command over you like it was as easy as breathing, and with how frequently he did so, it might as well be. You swallowed, trying to combat the lump settling in your throat. You let your hands settle by your side obediently. You wracked your brain, trying to figure out how to answer him. What did you want? Everything, you knew. You wanted everything from him. You wanted to leave your fathers image behind. You wanted to be held again. You wanted to be wrapped up in his tentacles again, unable to escape. You wanted to learn to fight back. You wanted to make Beomgyu proud.

A cheshire grin spread on Beomgyu’s face. Shit. You said that aloud, didnt you? You seemed to do that around him without intending to. His power over you was truly astounding.

“Flattery, my pearl, will get you everywhere you wish to be.” The smile remained, unwavering. It seemed to grow sharper, predatory, and it sent heat licking at the base of your spine. 

“You want to make me proud, want to learn to fight like a real cecaelia? Your father always was hesitant to follow my suggestions, brilliant as they were... But it seems I’ve gained something far greater after my exile.” He trailed a finger along your arm, watching in thinly-veiled amusement as gooseflesh erupted in the wake of his touch. He followed an invisible line, tracing up your shoulder, collarbone, neck, jaw. At last, he held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes locked hungrily on your lips. 

“I gained you.”

The words stole the breath from your lips. He.. thought you alone were worth all the torment he went through at the hands of your father? You struggled to wrap your mind around it. Surely this was all just sweet words designed to ensnare, to trap you, keep you pliant against his every whim. If it was, it was working. You were doomed.

“You gained me,” You echoed, unable to look away. He had bewitched you, mind, body and soul, and you were powerless to say no. It was useless to deny it, to pretend he did not possess you wholly. “I am yours.”

A groan tumbled from his mouth, and he leaned forward just a fraction more. You could feel the warm water of his breath rushing over your face, and you suddenly ached for him to be closer, yet his grip held you right where he wanted you. Just a breath away. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He whispered it like a secret, like reverent devotion meant only for you to hear. Your heart swooped dangerously in your chest at the words, squirming slightly. You needed to be closer, needed to feel how true his words were. You needed him to prove it.

“So show me.” Your words were simple, perhaps too simple. You couldn’t stop them if you tried, far too breathless and high-strung to deny the desire any further. You were tired of the tension, of the gaze on you from afar. You needed him up close, needed him to do more than just watch. You needed him to touch.

And touch, he did.

He surged forward with no warning, pressing his lips to yours in a searing, claiming kiss. You immediately yielded to it, allowing him to take what he needed, and give you everything. You thrilled at the contact, the way his lips pressed to yours before he grew too greedy for anything remotely chaste. Sharp teeth nibbled at your bottom lip, creating tiny cuts that made you hiss into the contact, yet you didn’t dare pull away. You couldn’t now, even if you tried. He held you fast against him, a crushing grip against your arms to keep you in place. His tongue traced along the duller edges of your teeth, pressed over the roof of your mouth, tangled with your own tongue, and you were helpless. You wined, high and desperate in your throat. You had never even been kissed before, much less did you imagine your first kiss would be such an intense claiming. You reveled in it, the electric feeling dancing through your body and settling hot and heavy at the base of your stomach. That thick liquid continued to make a mess of your lap, and you outright sobbed when a finger trailed gingerly over the edges, spreading the fluid. 

You felt positively dizzy, pliant and vulnerable to his every whim.

“Beomgyu…” You cried against his lips, though you weren’t exactly sure what you were calling for. You needed less, you needed more, you needed everything. He was somehow able to understand you, smiling against you before finally pulling away. You rocked forward, attempting to chase him. He laughed.

“My pearl,” He replied in kind, delicately cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. He had that soft, awed look on his face again that made you feel wholly wanted, wholly desired. You sighed against his palm, leaning into it to press a kiss to the skin closest to your lips. “If you do this, you can never go back. You know this, right?”

Never going back. To the castle, you assumed. The idea of never returning to your father should scare you, but it didn't. You were safe out here, tucked up close to Beomgyu, far from your father’s influence. His power stopped at the drop-off point, the same place where Beomgyu’s began. You would be safe as long as you had him to keep you that way, and there was no doubt he would teach you what he knew, turn you into a fearsome fighting machine. Someone he would be proud to show off to the others. You preened at the idea, nodding your head vigorously.

“I never needed him. I only need you.”

–

If someone had told you just weeks ago that you'd be the lover of the Dark Cecaelia, that you had given up your crown for dark water and uncertainty, you would have laughed them out of the room. There was no way you wouldn’t follow in your fathers footsteps, becoming just like him atop the throne. There was no way you'd give up your whole life for this stranger, for this danger made so obvious by the texts you grew up reading. But Beomgyu was nothing like the scrolls, and you were nothing like your father.

You were happy, and perhaps that was all you ever needed. 

[rouge-the-bat]

this can be because you liked all the starters a lot, or wasnt into any of them for a gen, or whatever other reason.

if you get multiple games in a gen/replay games and choose different starters for each game/playthrough, then you can take into consideration if you had any difficulty deciding who youd have as a starter on your first playthrough.

[aintashes]

working on the timeline on my site this morning ( still a huge wip but i'm proud of how it's turning out so far so here it is ) and just had a giant swell of feelings about my boy, how are y'all today