#and i can have very black and white thinking and it is difficult.

[hazamacore]

The Interweaving of Desmond & Eloise

an analysis on how they have been established as a pair

Collection of all essays so far

At the stage we are currently at, the end of chapter one with around thirteen hours of content to watch and even more outside of direct canon to examine, Desmond and Eloise have established themselves as a pair in a similar vein to Damon and Eva or Mark and Jett. Their pairing feels obviously deliberate and indicative of deeper meaning, which we’ll no doubt see more of as the game proceeds. In this essay I want to cohesively lay out all of my current thoughts on them - developed from TikTok posts I have made (x / x / x) with other newer points from my notes that do not appear in said posts. 

While I personally enjoy their relationship in a romantic context, this is not intended as a ship post, and you are of course free to interpret it how you like. It’s just looking at how they relate to each other as characters and their canon relationship and giving my thoughts on what that means for them! Regardless of how you interpret the context of their relationship, that these two are being set up as close is undeniable.

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER ONE AHEAD!

Firstly, I want to establish the significance of pairs in Project: Eden’s Garden overall. So much about the game circles back to pairs: the killing game ‘officially’ ending when only two remain, everyone waking up in pairs, Toshiko being the Ultimate Matchmaker, Tozu and Mara being a pair, bunking in pairs, splitting off into pairs… and much of this can be put down to the theming of the Garden of Eden with Adam and Eve. With everyone’s animal motifs, another Biblical story in Noah’s Ark comes to mind. The point is that the abundance of pairs is both relevant and very deliberate. 

Fundamental design

From the moment we first see them in the train CG, Desmond and Eloise are together. When we first formally meet them, they are the only ones in the courtyard. They are a pair from the beginning in the same way as Mark and Jett and Wolfgang and Grace. 

And, on first looks and first meetings, I’ll begin my thoughts on how they as individual characters relate to each other as foils with their visual designs and names. Being fictional characters, there was an entire design process filled with intent that went into creating them, and I really think Desmond and Eloise were created with the other in mind to make them both contrast and complement each other. 

Their contrasting colour schemes of blue and black VS red and white immediately relate them to one another and put them in proximity of one another. Through their colour schemes they have been designed to be seen next to each other. 

It is also their colour schemes that give instant insight into how they contrast each other in personality. Desmond’s blue suits his cool, composed disposition, his observant nature and how, although he is more reserved, he still integrates with the group and is a primary contributor. Throughout the situation and throughout all the suspicion he endures based on his talent, Desmond remains calm, in part, I think, because he knows he cannot afford to appear angry lest it confirm people’s biases. Considering how prominent that idea of prejudice has been with Desmond so far, I also heavily doubt him being designed as Black is coincidental or without connotations. Especially when you consider just how irrational the suspicion and assumptions placed upon him are. 

(Desmond’s third Free Time Event, talking about how difficult a confined space like the academy is for him) Damon, internally: And yet, that cool demeanour of his never falters - even when talking about his situation. Is this what he means when he talks about discipline…?

Conversely, Eloise’s red speaks to her being more volatile - prone to outbursts of fear, panic and, notably, rage. It is interesting to me that Eloise’s colour scheme is primarily white/grey, with her reds as secondary and, in her clothing, beneath her uniform. But her eyes, the “windows to the soul”, are red. Eloise at first impression seems only timid, and this leads both characters and audience alike to assume that she is weak, and she is also reserved and rather closed off especially in conversation with the likes of Damon. But Eloise has a strong fortitude that manifests later in chapter one as she gains confidence in the setting - standing up to and threatening Grace, leading the accusations towards Grace in the trial, and her Free Time Events most notably. Her red is closed off until triggered. Damon notes that “the most confident she’s ever sounded” is when she’s expressing her belief that the runners of the killing game should receive the death penalty which so starkly contrasts with Desmond’s focus on resolving things peacefully. Similarly to Desmond being Black, I also heavily doubt that Eloise being designed as fat is without connotations regarding this theme.

The meanings of their names push this even more blatantly. Desmond’s name is of Anglo-Saxon origin and means ��Great defender” which adds to how spelled out the theme of guarding, protection, defence becomes in his character during chapter one - notably in relation to himself and Eloise. In his blackmail, which I will go into in more detail later, it explicitly says he “guards the only one he trusts”. This defence finds contrast with offence in Eloise’s name being of French and Teutonic origin meaning “Fierce warrior” which speaks to how assertive she becomes when pushed. Her Free Time Events serve as good indication with how she says outright to Damon that she plans to fight back if targeted for murder and expresses anger when he starts “prying into [her] personal life” in an outburst of “It’s none of your f-fucking business!”. Down to their names they present as foils.

Linking to this talk on personalities and first impressions is how these two contrast in how they are perceived by other characters and audience alike - their shared theme of “judging a book by its cover”. 

While Eloise has a talent centred around combat and wielding a blade, she is not nearly suspected the same way Desmond is due to her appearance as pale and soft in conjunction with her timidity, with the decision to make her fat adding to this as well. She is actually afforded first impressions based on personality, where Desmond is instead defined by potential threat in his marksmanship - the first thing Wolfgang ever says to him is, “With all of those weapons, I must ask…you…haven’t killed anyone, have you?”, and Eva’s belief that everyone is out to get her and have marked her as an easy target merges with preconceived notions about Desmond’s character and talent to lead her to assert that telling Desmond about his blackmail could “put [her] in danger”.  Contrasingly, in building up to their confrontation of Grace, Damon perceives Eloise as “bumbling”, “uncoordinated”, and not of “any help in a verbal shutdown”, and he proceeds to be utterly proven wrong - with the use of “uncoordinated” in reference to the Ultimate Fencer giving great indication of his poor judge of character. This contrast, then, makes it notable how they stick together and understand each other in a way others do not. 

(RE his bunking idea: Eloise understands what Desmond’s intentions are while others assume ill of him) Cassidy: I mean - hey, don’t expose us! That’s unfair! Desmond: Hold on, I’m not trying to expose anyone…! Eloise: Um, I think I get what he’s trying to say. Eloise: You just want everyone to be honest with each other…so we can cover all our bases…right? Desmond: Yeah…that’s right… (During the chapter one investigation as Grace guards Wolfgang’s room and denies everyone entry) Desmond: That’s what I tried telling everyone else, but they pretty much gave up. Jett and Mark went to the dining hall, Diana went to the laundry room, and Toshiko and Ingrid went to the courtyard.  Desmond: Eloise and I, though…we’re not gonna let this slide.

When going through their Free Time Events, it becomes clear that Desmond and Eloise even contrast each other when it comes to their backgrounds and honing of their talents. Desmond comes from a notably wealthy family who have a history of Ultimate Marksmen - that talent being as hereditary as literal genetics. From the start, Desmond has been showered in opportunity - he mentions having an expansive field that puts the academy’s courtyard to shame, a personal shooting range, a personal tennis court, and a personal swimming pool. He used to attend competitions on a local and regional scale until he got the opportunity to compete in the Olympics. 

Comparatively, Eloise had no such influence when it came to getting into fencing and simply joined a club and her honing of her talent was defined by a lack of opportunity. She rose through the ranks via forfeits - her opponents were so afraid they point-blank refused to fight her and so she had to take matters of improving into her own hands by practicing alone or with her teacher. Her lack of opportunity stems from how her family is certainly not as well-off as Desmond’s and she comments on giving her prize money to her mother and sisters. This is a point of similarity between the two - they both disregard the money they have earned through their talent for themselves and instead place focus on their families. Desmond cares more about making his parents proud, and Eloise cares more about giving the money to her family. 

Beyond every aspect in how Desmond and Eloise foil each other is how similar thematically they are in a way that allows them to understand and trust one another in a way they don’t seem to lend to anyone else. They understand that the other is perceived by strangers in a way that doesn’t necessarily align with their fully realised selves, Desmond’s calmness soothes Eloise’s volatility, Eloise’s sword takes the front while Desmond’s guns and bows take the rear - they are an inversion of each other and interwoven as a pair.

To finish off with their fundamental designs, official art for Project: Eden’s Garden is, in my opinion, interesting to look at. Desmond and Eloise are depicted next to or interacting in some way with each other in every piece of official art they share which pushes them further as a ‘pair’. It really emphasises how rarely in-game they’re apart - with the only instances of that being during nighttime, every free-time after the first one, and most prominently the Prologue’s investigation. Otherwise, they are always at least in the proximity of each other. I don’t think official art and seeing which characters appear together the most and how exactly they are interacting is insignificant at all - two sets of Halloween official art stand out to me as entwining Desmond and Eloise by their talents. In one, Desmond is dressed as Link from the Legend of Zelda and wielding a blade and, in the other, Eloise is dressed as Artemis from Greek Mythology - the Goddess of the Hunt who was known for her archery, a choice that becomes especially interesting once you remember that Artemis’ fellow archer brother, Apollo, was heavily associated with swans. 

Blackmail, blackmail

“With his weapons at hand, Desmond guards the only one he trusts.”

Since I posted my initial interpretations of this on TikTok, I’ve seen more discussion on it, and I don’t think it is controversial at all to suggest that the “only one” referred to here is Eloise. The only other options, to me, are this “only one” being someone outside of our main cast or Desmond himself. However, I have found myriad evidence that points towards it being Eloise that I’ve spread across different videos on TikTok but can now relay all in one place here. 

First, what is meant by “weapons”? As the Ultimate Marksman, Desmond has access to guns and bows in the literal meaning of that and this is how Eva, Damon and everyone else interprets it. It is also true - Desmond is always depicted with his quiver slung over his back, so he does indeed have his weapons at hand. However, there is another way of looking at this - Desmond’s “weapons” do not have to be literal. 

During chapter one’s trial, Grace admonishes everyone for “trusting Desmond so easily” after he defends himself from accusations based on the taser gun and Damon has the option of commenting on Desmond’s charisma that persuades people to trust him (or… “charm” as he puts it). Desmond’s “weapons” could refer to his rhetoric, especially with how he utilises the angle of ethos in comparison with Damon’s logos and Diana’s pathos - that being, focusing on getting across and defending his character, something that as previously discussed Desmond is exhaustively used to doing. His “guard” could manifest in him coming to this “only one”’s defence in verbal bouts just as much as it can be taken literally, something that we have in fact already seen if you subscribe to the idea of that person being Eloise.

Next, the meaning of “trusts” should be dug into. It is easy to assume that because Desmond behaves cordially with everyone and seems to possess a vested interest in getting everyone out of the killing game and to safety this means he is openly trusting in the way Diana is, but there is a lot once you start looking that proves otherwise. Desmond does not vehemently deny the possibility of murder like Wolfgang or Diana do but instead accepts the reality of their situation and approaches it with the knowledge of murder in his mind. He is against exploring the Alpha Sanctuary due to whatever Tozu has hidden within it, he takes note of the dangers of the pharmacy and what drugs could possibly be used to murder - even saying that “we should all start paying more attention to our food” - and is the one to come up with the bunk buddies idea due to the broken locks. Desmond does not trust that his peers absolutely will not be tempted by murder. Most illuminating is during his second Free Time Event when Damon tries to use the trustworthiness of the other students as a debate topic and Desmond becomes noticeably uneasy and closed off. 

Damon: How about… we debate the trustworthiness of the other students? Desmond: Huh…? What do you mean? Damon: Isn’t it self-explanatory? You and I argue about whether or not the others are trustworthy. Desmond: Uh… I don’t know, dude. I’m not really comfortable with that. Damon: Why? Desmond: W-what do you mean why? I can’t just say my… (own emphasis) Desmond: I mean, I can’t just throw doubt at people for no reason. 

Despite this, he still wants said peers to trust him. His motivation to escape the killing game and prevent murder, I believe, is genuine - however, he remains beneath the veil of hypocrisy in how he expects everyone to trust him without him trusting them. 

So, how does this link to Eloise? 

From the prologue, the theme of Eloise and Desmond being each other’s alibis and backing each other up is established. Wolfgang asks Desmond to keep a shaken Eloise company and he does so for the duration of all the other introductions. When the fake body of Cara is discovered, Eloise insists that she heard no screaming from the courtyard nor did anyone run out, and calls on Desmond to back her up, which he does. This is the first exchange of trust and reliance between them, and it only strengthens during chapter one. 

The first major instance is in relation to Desmond’s idea of sleeping in pairs. Knowing his distrust towards his peers and that he has this one person he has an interest in protecting, it is notable both that he would be the one to raise concerns about the broken locks and that he would proceed to input that, “As the one who suggested the idea, I’d say we just pick our buddies ourselves-”. Desmond wanted to choose his bunk buddy, ostensibly so he would be able to more readily “guard” them, and this, I think, is crucial as evidence that the “only one he trusts” is someone among the class. While he doesn’t respond outwardly negatively to Toshiko’s desire to be in charge of the pairs and Ingrid’s subsequent assertion that they split by gender, this is easily explained by how intent he is on maintaining a calm disposition. 

Eloise’s behaviour in this scene is equally noteworthy. She defends Desmond from accusations that he’s making people vulnerable and that she harkens to ideas of honesty and understanding Desmond’s intentions speaks to a building closeness between them. Much like Desmond, Eloise appears selective with her trust through how focus is repeatedly placed on her as ways to assign bunk-buddies is discussed, combined with how her character profile notes how she is “always ready to make her escape if anyone gets too close to her”, which I believe can be applied in both a literal-in-regards-to-fencing and figurative sense. We can discern from her Free Time Events that Eloise holds her privacy close to her and that she has certain people that she openly does not trust nor like - she doesn’t want to have a decision like who is going to be with her at her most vulnerable just chosen for her. 

Toshiko: Fear not! In all my infinite wisdom and kindness, I shall pair the rest of you! Eloise: Ah… that’s not really necessary… (...) Ingrid: Strangers’ll usually be more comfortable spending the night with the same gender. Eloise: Then… we’re splitting it by gender…? (...) Wolfgang: We won’t have Ms. Kayura’s help, but I’m sure we’ll figure something out. Let’s go. Eloise: … 

Furthermore, it does not feel at all coincidental that the scene directly after Desmond’s blackmail is revealed by Eva sees Grace pressuring Eloise to hand over her blackmail and Desmond attempting to defend Eloise before she reassures him. Eloise’s silence after Grace says that she better not have shown anyone speaks volumes - from the map during Free Time and their alibis for the time of Wolfgang’s murder alike we can explicitly see the amount of time these two have been spending around each other in the courtyard.

Grace: That fencer girl has been giving me the side-eye ever since the blackmail was announced. There’s no other explanation! Grace: Give it! Desmond: H-hey, stop that! Eloise: It’s okay…I’ve got it…

On the morning of Wolfgang’s murder, Desmond and Eloise spent all their time together in that courtyard, paralleling their positioning in the prologue. Just as then, they are each other’s alibis and they are the main one backing the other up. They proceed to stay by the other’s side literally throughout the investigation and figuratively throughout the trial. It is notable that textually Grace and Kai underscore how defensive Eloise and Desmond have been of each other throughout chapter one’s investigation and trial to accuse them of working together - ostensibly, Desmond being the murderer and Eloise his accomplice. When the two of them and Damon confront Grace during the investigation, they are largely backing each other up and adding to each other’s points while Damon chips in on his own - even going as far as to threaten Grace, knowing that she was shot at by Mara before.

Eloise: Um…for us to believe that, we need to see it ourselves… Grace: You think I’m lying? Desmond: There’s a chance you could be, unfortunately.  (...) Eloise: Also, um…couldn’t this be considered breaking the rules…? Eloise: Tozu wants this game to be fair, but… being prevented from searching every room doesn’t seem very fair… Grace: …Even if it isn’t, what are you gonna do? Eloise: … Eloise: I’ll…report it to Tozu. Grace: A-ah? Desmond: Nice idea. What do you say we look for him now? Desmond: If Tozu agrees this is sabotage, he might call Mara to help…

In the trial, when Eloise first accuses Grace, Desmond backs her. When Grace’s innocence is proven and Eloise apologises for accusing her, Desmond continues to press Grace when she shouts at Eloise by insisting she “must know something about [Wolfgang’s] last known whereabouts”. When Desmond brings up the golf clothes and equipment in Wolfgang’s room, Eloise backs him. When Mark accuses Desmond of having access to weapons like the taser gun, Eloise reacts before Desmond does. During the nonstop debate about the taser gun, Eloise brings up her and Desmond’s shared alibi as they were together the whole morning. If the player takes the Pathos Route during the trial, it is Eloise’s voicing of her doubts in voting Diana and wanting to hear her side of the story that then leads into Desmond’s own agreement to hear her out. This series of events, I think, proves a degree of trust that has built between the two that they have not extended to anyone else - even during Eva’s execution and Diana’s speech, the two are depicted together. 

The nature of Desmond’s blackmail combined with how he and Eloise are written in this chapter as consistent supporters of each other and consistently shown together leads me to be rather firm in my belief at the moment that Eloise is this “only one” his blackmail refers to. Their relationship is given as much focus as Damon and Kai and Wolfgang and Grace, which indicates the importance of it and really, really doesn’t bode well for their survival. My personal speculation at this current moment sees Eloise killing in self-defence, in which instance we will see Desmond’s ‘guard’ come to fruition. 

Sharks and swans

It can’t be a P:EG analysis without looking at the characters’ animal motifs - especially with how chapter one confirmed their relevance with the focus on Wolfgang, Eva and Diana in particular!

Desmond’s animal motif is a shark as represented by his shark’s tooth earring and this is immediately notable in tying into the dominating theme of prejudice and “judging a book by its cover” that has presented itself in contrasting ways in his and Eloise’s characters. Desmond being instinctively assumed to be dangerous and a ‘threat’ due to his position as the Ultimate Marksman directly correlates to how sharks are perceived in the media and, by extension, society. One way his shark motif is relevant lies in how it conveys this theme of being misunderstood. 

As previously noted, the first thing Wolfgang ever says to Desmond is an interrogative question about whether or not he has killed someone before, it does not take any amount of mental gymnastics for Eva and Damon to agree Desmond’s blackmail makes him dangerous, and it does not take much convincing for the majority during the trial to agree on his likelihood of murdering Wolfgang due to the taser gun originating from his room. Surely, we are instantly reminded of how sharks are similarly misunderstood as obvious killers due to how they have been negatively sensationalised by the media - leading to a general consensus in society to view them as an inherent threat. 

“Sharks have been vilified in human culture for centuries, and negative attitudes toward sharks continue to pervade mass media, perpetuating stereotypes, often conveying inaccurate information [7–11]. One way the public’s fear of sharks, which resonates deeply and viscerally, manifests itself is a pervasive overestimation of the likelihood of being ‘attacked’” (Andrew Nosal et al, 2016, The Effect of Background Music in Shark Documentaries on Viewers' Perceptions of Sharks, p.2)

Eva asserts that Desmond finding out about her having his blackmail could make her a target and, generally, the other characters are quick to assume ill intention from him. For example, him bringing up how everyone’s locks to their dorms are broken raises accusations of him exposing people and him testing people’s locks sparks similar reaction - with Wolfgang even denying him future agency by saying Desmond should go to him first. 

Desmond’s shark motif combines with how his talent is perceived to beg us as viewers to deconstruct assumptions of him being this ticking time bomb waiting to explode - to pick apart preconceived notions, examine what makes you think that way and why. It is simultaneously fascinating and frustrating to see predictions from fans about how the rest of the game will play out position Desmond as an ‘obvious’ killer due to his marksmanship and because his animal motif is an apex predator painted as a “man-eating monster” by the media, ignoring how his talent has been handled thus far and contributing to the dominating narrative about sharks that does not reflect reality. 

The majority of shark attacks on humans are results of curiosity bites on the shark’s end or mistaking humans for, say, seals. In personifying sharks and acting as if they have the same moral decision making as humans and go out of their way to maim and kill, they have become severely endangered themselves. In an article on shark conservation that analysed how sharks are portrayed in American and Australian media, it was identified that there were “four types of risks from sharks and fourteen types of risks to sharks in the articles” and that “Forty-four percent of the articles mentioned elevated public risk perceptions or fear of sharks” (Bret Muter et al, 2012, Australian and U.S. News Media Portrayal of Sharks and Their Conservation, Conservation Biology, Vol.27, No.1, p.190), which is to say that humans are more of a risk to sharks on the whole than sharks are to humans such as through overfishing, finning and habitat destruction and that this can directly parallel the ‘attacks’ on his character that Desmond has endured so far in the story.

In direct contrast in this respect, there is Eloise and her swan motif represented by her hairpin. The dominating cultural perspective on swans is that they are uniquely beautiful and elegant, they are symbols of purity and aristocracy and are a protected species in many countries including the US, UK and across the whole of the European Union. This places them at the utter opposite end of a general consensus scale to sharks and their features in popular culture reflects this from Hans Christian Andersen’s Ugly Duckling fairy tale to Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake ballet.

Swan Lake is of particular note to me due to its duality of the white and black swan that can be applied to Eloise’s characterisation. Through her white clothing, fencer-defined elegance, and timid demeanour, Eloise brings to mind Odette the white swan - or the Swan Princess - who was cursed to be a swan by day and woman by night and who is revered for her beauty and purity. Contrastingly we have Odile, who impersonates Odette while she is bound to her swan form and is the ‘black swan’ - more conniving and wicked. Traditionally, Odette and Odile are roles performed by the same ballerina and so represent this idea of duality even more. Now, Eloise is neither conniving nor wicked, but she certainly is not the ‘Odette’ that people perceive her as on a surface level, and has assertive and, really, quite aggressive talons that unsheathe when she deems necessary. 

(Eloise’s first Free Time Event, unprovoked) Eloise: If…if you ever try to do something to me… Eloise: …then…I’m going to fight back.  (...) Eloise: Once, I completely overpowered a person using just a pen… Eloise: And, uh…if you don’t believe me… Eloise: …I…can give you a taste of what that person felt. 

Additionally tied to this is the Medieval moralist view on swans as symbolic of hypocrisy. The idea stems from Hugh of Fouilloy’s Aviarium where he asserts that swans’ white plumage concealing their supposedly black flesh is reflective of a sinner who conceals their sins with a faux pious front…this line of thinking of “white = morality, black = immorality” is notoriously flawed and susceptible to challenge, and this specific idea alluding to black flesh even more obviously so. However, as a spiritual Christian belief, it is relevant when considering Project: Eden’s Garden not least because the game’s religious allusions ask us to question the very concept of Eden and how Western institutions use religious imagery - especially in how they distort it and use it for their own narrative. Every image of nature in the academy being artificial highlights this. Thus, this old idea about swans and hypocrisy may be taken into account… it is not so much direct hypocrisy that relates to Eloise, but the theme of appearance not reflecting reality and a warning to “not to be deceived by outward appearances” (Natalie Jayne Goodison, Introducing the Medieval Swan, p.12). Eloise’s character profile outright tells us to “not be deceived” (by her “size”, but this can apply generally). 

And this neatly leads into the fact that swans themselves, despite their innocent and pure iconography, are fierce - especially when it comes to defending themselves or their nests. As Aristotle puts it in his (outdated by over two millennia yet still incredibly interesting) work The History of Animals, “[swans] will repel the attack and get the better of their assailant, but they are never the first to attack” (Trans. D’Arcy Wentworth Thompson, 9.12) and Eloise explicitly references this in her fight against her own underestimation and to combat the perception of her as weak both in form and fortitude. Despite what Damon believes, I refute the idea that Eloise’s volatility makes her emotionally weak because chapter one’s trial proves otherwise as does chapter one’s investigation that instantly sees Eloise disprove Damon’s idea of her. Speaking of Damon, it is interesting how he comes to respect and almost understand Desmond who is misunderstood as a threat by others much like himself, but cannot extend the same to Eloise whom he has no axis of relatability to. 

“Still, it is significant that the administrative and agricultural experts voiced concern that aesthetic, cultural, and sentimental ideas about swans guide the birds’ protection in a strange or illogical way, and the resources expert agreed that the main—if not the only—value associated with continued protection of the whooper is sentimental value.” (Shauna Laurel Jones, 2018, Feathered majesty in the grainfield? Conflict, conservation, and the whooper swan in Iceland, p.39)

Desmond’s shark motif presenting through a shark tooth earring is not merely an aesthetic choice and instead possesses symbolic connotations. It is the choice in his design of a shark tooth earring that allows us to connect indigenous beliefs about sharks to his characterisation, as in indigenous Hawai’ian culture, shark teeth are traditionally worn as protective talismans, and certain species of sharks in indigenous Hawai’ian culture also relate to the concept of ‘aumakua’ where under certain conditions a deceased person is reincarnated as a shark and acts as a “beneficent guardian spirit” (Leighton R. Taylor, 1993, Sharks of Hawai’i: their biology and cultural significance, p.19) towards their family, both of which link to the increasingly potent theme of “guard[ing]” in Desmond’s character. 

Similarly, we find ideas of “guard[ing]” with the swan, especially the idea of being guarded. Most blatant is the fact that swans are a protected species in many particularly Western countries such as the United Kingdom, the United States, France, Denmark, Germany, and Iceland, meaning it is illegal to kill or injure them. In a literary sense, we have the Finnish national epic Kalevala wherein the hero Lemminkäinen is tasked with killing a swan that swims and sings in the Lake of Tuonela that surrounds the underworld, but instead he is killed - not textually because he has attempted to kill a swan, but the context of swans as a protected species and how they are symbolically viewed certainly influences this narrative.

However, as a point of contrast, while sharks can be associated with life in the sense of survival and their integral position in ecosystems, keeping them intact, swans are associated overwhelmingly with death. Firstly examining the former, it is notable to me that Desmond’s animal motif is one heavily concerned with conservation efforts to protect against endangerment and extinction, conditions that are in no small part due to human impact. When one sees apex predator their mind tends to swipe to violence, to these creatures being bloodthirsty, instead of taking it for what it really is: an animal that plays an indispensable role in regulating ecosystems. Already, Desmond has cemented himself as a secondary contributor in trials alongside the likes of Jean, Ulysses and Wenona, and within the group he assumes a position not the extent of leadership like Wolfgang and Jean but certainly as a prominent initiator. Sharks have lived for millions of years and their survival is integral to the smooth management of marine ecosystems, to remove them would cause a disastrous knock-on effect. In tandem, the condition of its ecosystem is integral to the survival of the shark, which raises the aspect of Desmond’s Free Time Events that has him lament the lack of open space in the academy. 

“As apex predators, sharks play an indispensable role in regulating marine populations, maintaining biodiversity, and preserving the health of our oceans (amongst many other parts they play in the tapestry of life that is below the waves). However, despite having roamed our oceans for millions of years, they currently face a myriad threats that of our own doing, including overfishing, habitat degradation, and climate change.” (Melissa Cristina Marquez, 2024, Exploring the Intersection of Indigenous Knowledge and Shark Science)

Turning to the association between swans and death is the ever-omnipresent swan song. The myth that swans are silent their whole lives until just before they die, when they sing their haunting song. Eloise can be interpreted according to this in how “silence” can be applied to her initially reserved and shy nature, with the more she develops across the story akin to the theme of transformation found in many European folktales and, unfortunately as a result, becomes closer to death her development in becoming more openly confident will be her “song”.

My personal speculation at the moment is that Eloise will become the blackened through killing in self-defence - something I find fitting for her characterisation, predicted character arc, fencing talent, and swan motif all in one - and so her swan’s song will manifest as her final plight during her trial before she is inevitably sent to death. Relatedly, the conclusion of Swan Lake sees Odette, the swan princess, and Siegried, the prince, die together. I view Desmond and Eloise’s relationship to end in one of two ways - either one of them kills/is killed and the other kills/is killed the chapter after, or one of them kills/is killed and the other survives. Either way, they cannot both live. 

The silver Swan who living had no note, When death approached unlocked her silent throat; Leaning her breast against the reedy shore, Thus sang her first and last, and sung no more: "Farewell all joys! O death come close mine eyes, More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise." (Unknown author)

And so arrives the final point to wrap this whole essay up in one neat bow: Eloise’s swan motif presents in her unwavering loyalty as a pair with Desmond. This is so unsubtle that it is underscored by Grace and Kai in the chapter one trial, sending accusations of them working together to murder their way. As has been reiterated, the two are seldom not depicted together, react to accusations towards each other with the same intensity were they to be directed at them, and defend each other with a consistency they do not afford any other character, with only Diana coming close in Eloise’s case. Like swans who mate for life, Eloise and Desmond have essentially become pair bonded. This happening so quickly is not necessarily a cause for doubt either in my opinion as that also connects to swans who bond as a pair even before they reach sexual maturity at twenty months despite living for a good two decades, and we know Eloise and Desmond’s time is far shorter than that. 

“Someone has to leave first.  This is a very old story.  There is no other version of this story.” (Richard Siken, War of the Foxes)

With everything we have of them so far, regardless of how Desmond and Eloise’s individual stories play out, they will be in one way or another entwined. 

Thank you for reading, and I would love to know your thoughts!

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Aristotle, Thompson D. W.,The History of Animals

Goodison N. J., 2023, Introducing the Medieval Swan

Hugh, 1172, Aviarium

Jones S. L., 2018, Feathered majesty in the grainfield? Conflict, conservation, and the whooper swan in Iceland

Lönnrot E., 1835, The Kalewala

Marquez M. C., 2024, Exploring the Intersection of Indigenous Knowledge and Shark Science

Muter B. et al., 2012, Conservation Biology, Australian and U.S. News Media Portrayal of Sharks and Their Conservation, Vol. 27, No. 1

Nosal A. et al., 2016, The Effect of Background Music in Shark Documentaries on Viewers' Perceptions of Sharks

Taylor L. R., 1993, Sharks of Hawai’i: their biology and cultural significance

Tchaikovsky P. I., The Swan Lake Ballet

[kwimii999]

Nightowl UI - Part 2 - Update #1

(All updates related to part 2 will be deleted once part 2 is released)

I've been busy with work all week and now I'm dealing with health issues so for now there won't be a lot of update about the UI as much

If you refer to this post, you should know that I'm currently working on CAS (Including CAB+CAP), Game Entry and Loading Screens.

Main Updates

Game Entry

Even the game entry is taking a long time because I have to make it coherent with everything else I've done so far.

One would say, " what's wrong ? it looks fine" but no, not everything is coherent yet haha.

Options Menu + Mod Info Menu

I've been fighting the options menu and the mod menu for a while, I need to figure out why the background becomes white and make it black because it actually BURNS my eyes when it happens lol

Game Loading Screens

nothing much to say, it's all done haha

Create-A-Sim Loading Screens (NOT finished)

as you can see, I messed up the create a plumbob loading screen really badly, those hexagons are supposed to be deleted which I will do once I get back to updating the CAS-CAP-CAB loading screens.

Create-A-Sim

CAS has a lot of progress compared to both CAB and CAP

Thing is the main reason why It's taking me so long is, coherence. I need every single thing to be coherent, the same colors for the same icons. Sometimes it's kinda hard to do that because the icons aren't 1 singular image files. they're all in different images depending on what image you're looking at, and you have to recognize it. That's what's been taking me so long

Create-A-Pet

CAP has a little more files but nothing too crazy, I haven't touched anything yet but it's not going to be very difficult either

Create-A-Plumbot

I got progress on CAB, I only have a few files left, thing is, there's so little, I was surprised when I first opened CAB for the first time lol

Bonus Updates

Live Mode

Live mode recieved some changes which I think makes everything more coherent with CAS, Game Entry and everything else so far :) I think I like it even 'more now ! I used to feel like it looked odd and out of place but now I'm pretty happy with the color combinations.

Additional Information :

Did you know ?

I changed the apparence of the small window that appears when you download things from the launcher haha - If you downloaded the App Loading Screens, you should have this :)

I wish I could change the launcher too !

[anderperries]

saying this with the utmost love and respect. u have to stop caring about taylor’s personal life if it affects ur enjoyment of her music to this degree. blacklist the name of whoever she’s dating, unfollow people who keep putting updates on ur dash, do literally anything but sit there and allow it to affect u this much

anon, you’re right and i appreciate it. i try not to care about her personal life too much (as much as i can for the fact i have a parasocial relationship with her lmao) but this also is much deeper to me than her personal life which sucks. it’s more that it is kinda shifting my view of whether i see her as a ‘good’ person and how comfortable i am supporting her if that makes sense? i know it’s going to sound insane to say “it’s an autism thing” and i really don’t have the energy to explain properly rn how it is or why it’s affecting me so damn hard but like,,, it’s an autism thing. i appreciate you though, anon.

[byanyan]

I've talked a fair amount about how byan has been bullied and hurt by teachers in the past (& how they'd hit their limit and seek drastic revenge, in some cases), but I've never really talked much about how byan has also bullied and outright tormented teachers for themself... like yeah, it's definitely because they don't trust teachers or authority figures in general due to their past experiences, but that doesn't mean that their 9th grade math teacher deserved to feel afraid for his own safety or that their 10th grade biology teacher should have been so stressed that she retired early. byan has been done dirty by a lot of people in their life but they've also been a genuine menace to others who gave them no real reason to be, and they have taken enjoyment in it in a lot of cases.

[zukkaoru]

i support women's wrongs but i have to say i'm also a rather big fan of consistent characterization,,

[hoseoksluna]

LIQUID STARS | jjk

pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.8k

summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.

playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine

warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting

note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ

side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!

Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 

It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 

Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 

While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?

You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?

He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 

How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—

Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 

You couldn’t. 

Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 

His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 

“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”

You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 

“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”

Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 

You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 

“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 

For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 

He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—

“Let me kiss you, please.” 

You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 

Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 

You exhaled, he inhaled. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 

He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 

“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 

Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 

“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 

Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 

“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”

Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 

“I get to take Bam?” 

Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 

Probably not. Definitely not. 

“But what about Bam?” 

He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 

“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 

You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 

Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 

It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—

“Deal.” 

Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 

“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 

He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 

You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 

Jungkook groans. 

It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 

You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 

He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 

You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 

You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 

And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 

You want him. 

It began with a ring and ended right here. 

And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 

The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 

Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 

And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 

Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 

“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 

Jungkook grips your waist hard. 

“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 

“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 

“Kiss me, then.” 

You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—

When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 

The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 

“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 

He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 

“Bam, house.” 

The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 

“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 

He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 

You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 

“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 

He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 

A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 

He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 

You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 

His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 

You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 

A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 

Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 

“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 

You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 

“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 

You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 

“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 

A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 

He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 

You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 

The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 

You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 

No attachment, no liking. 

Just sex. 

There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 

“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 

You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 

You broke him. 

And now you have to face the repercussions. 

Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 

You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 

There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 

You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 

Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 

Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 

The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 

He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 

No strings, no pain.

But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 

“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 

You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 

He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 

A lump forms in your throat. 

“You sure about this?” he asks. 

One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.

You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.

You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 

Flowery or deceitful? 

A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 

Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—

“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”

He blames himself, not you. 

You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 

“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 

He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 

His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 

Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 

He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 

The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 

“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 

The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 

You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 

“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 

“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 

He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 

“Of course I trust you.” 

“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 

Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 

“Are you scared?” 

You’re an empty canvas. 

“Not anymore.” 

Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 

The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 

You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 

Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 

The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 

Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 

“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 

Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 

Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 

You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 

Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 

Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 

Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 

Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 

You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 

“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 

Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 

“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 

You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 

“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 

You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 

“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 

Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 

He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 

There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 

He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 

A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 

Jungkook sees you. 

“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 

“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.

“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 

When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—

“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 

“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 

He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 

And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.

He stills the buck of your hips. 

You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 

“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”

You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.

“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 

He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  

Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 

Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.

“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 

It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.

You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.

Jungkook stops your movements fully.

“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 

His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 

Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.

“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”

“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 

You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 

Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”

Obeying his desperate order, you do.

A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 

“Did so well for me.” 

The whisper takes you back and you awake. 

You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 

He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.

You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.

Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.

You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   

“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 

You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 

“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 

For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.

Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.

And then he sinks them into your mouth. 

His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 

Happy to be wanted.

Good, because he said you were.

As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 

He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 

Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 

You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 

Musk, vanilla, wood. 

The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 

“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 

Overjoyed. Overstimulated.

Heavenly.

“Good.” 

A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 

You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 

You open your mouth, but no words come out. 

Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.

“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 

You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 

It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 

He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 

You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 

“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 

You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 

He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 

You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 

Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 

He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 

He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 

You nod. “So bad.” 

Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 

“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 

You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.

“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 

Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 

Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.

“I watch a lot of porn.” 

Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 

You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 

“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 

He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 

Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 

The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 

He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 

Neither, evidently, can he. 

“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 

So vulnerable. 

You ache. 

You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 

When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 

You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 

But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 

He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—

Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 

“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 

Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 

He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.

Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 

And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 

“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 

With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 

Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 

“Talk to me.” 

You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 

He stares you down. 

No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 

“I won’t play with you, then.” 

Panic. “No.” 

He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 

Silence. 

He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 

“Jungkook.” 

Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 

“Beg.” 

All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 

Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 

“Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You groan in frustration. 

“Be nice or—”

“Please, lick me.” 

That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 

“Where?” 

A challenge. Your throat dries up. 

“There.” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 

“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 

The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 

And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 

“Lick my clit, please.” 

A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  

“Like this?” 

You choke out a moan. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”

He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—

“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 

Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.

“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”

Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.

Your Daddy. 

You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.

“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 

The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 

And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 

You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 

Daddy and little girl. 

Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.

Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 

And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 

You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 

“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 

He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 

“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 

Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 

“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 

“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.

Your frown deepens. 

“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 

You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 

“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 

It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 

Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 

He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 

There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 

Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.

“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”

You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 

“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 

You nod, trusting him. 

He pecks you. Smiles. 

“How many orgasms are we at?” 

You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”

Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.

A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 

“You obliterated my expectations.” 

“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 

You blush, eyes twinkling. 

“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 

Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 

“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 

But Jungkook grows solemn.

“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 

Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.

“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”

Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.

“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 

“I don’t stop coming.” 

Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.

“And you finger yourself?” 

You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.

“How many fingers?” 

You scoff. “Just one.” 

“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 

You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 

He didn’t break his promise. 

Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 

And there you feel it. 

The sensation unlike any other. 

He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 

“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 

Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.

You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 

“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”

“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 

He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—

Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 

You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 

“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 

“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 

“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 

Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 

“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 

Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 

“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 

“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.

“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 

White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 

“Please, come for me.” 

Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 

The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.

“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 

And it’s the truth.

Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 

Jungkook grunts. 

“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 

He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 

And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.

And you swallow it all. 

Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 

He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 

“Good girl. Good little princess.” 

That you are. A changed person for all eternity.

“Is your tummy full?” 

You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.

The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 

And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.

“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”

What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three

[xiatarot]

pick a pile: your next relationship

< choose an image >

take what resonates, leave what doesn’t.

for entertainment purposes only.

♡

I.

significant signs: big trees, snoopy, rabbits, spider webs, pictures of your grandparents, angel wings, 777, 8, 16, 1717.

zodiac signs: sagittarius, libra, virgo, cancer, aquarius, leo, gemini.

dear pile 1, it seems like the universe here has a different message for you but it's definitely one that you'll need to hear. your next relationship is essentially with yourself. spirit is urging you to look within, and find the love you seek in yourself. love and affection don't necessarily always have to come from a romantic partner; look around you and you'll find many different sources. you have a strong support system, wether in the 3D or spiritually, or both. there's a need for you to retreat and keep yourself in that hermit energy. there's some things you'll need to let go of in order to close a particularly difficult chapter of your life, and as the end of the year approaches, now it's the perfect time to let go of all those negative energies pulling you back from being who you dream of being, so that 2025 can feel like a fresh new beginning. some of you might struggle with addictions or, generically speaking, things that distract you on a daily basis and take you away from spending time doing other more fulfilling things that could benefit you long-term. now it's the time to reconsider your priorities and make amends with the past. what's behind you shouldn't keep you from moving forward. it would be beneficial to open up to one of multiple friends, don't be afraid to ask for help. to-do lists and physical self-care could also help a lot. remember that whatever you're going through it's temporary and it will pass. don't go back to unhealthy situations and toxic behaviors for temporary comfort, act out of love for your future self. take care.

find out more here: ♡ leave a tip: ♡

channeled song:

♡

II.

significant signs: singing, white candles, rainstorms, black guitar picks, silver scissors, anxiety meds, journaling, 12, 444, 1010, 6,333.

zodiac signs: leo, aquarius, capricorn, gemini, libra, virgo, aries.

you will meet your next partner at work or this person will offer you a job opportunity. i'm seeing someone receiving bouquets of flowers at their office. this person could be very conventionally attractive, so much that you wouldn't believe they'd be into you, but they will. this will boost your confidence on the long run. you will meet this person at a time in your life where you feel lost or trapped in some kind of situation that might have to do with finances or unemployment. this person will take it in their interests to do the best they can to help you and take you out of your misery. i think they'll be very financially abundant. beware of jealousy that could arise around you, they could have many eyes on them, for some of you they could even be a public figure or someone that's just relatively known on social media. your person will spend a lot of time observing you and trying to read you from afar, they could've been hurt in the past so they'll take a slow and careful approach for fear that you might turn out to be another lesson for them. this relationship will force you to face insecurities and you might have a hard time in terms of self-esteem and confidence initially. communication and honesty are essential here, as lots of misunderstandments could arise out of it. they will definitely be the one to make the first move. this relationship will be filled with passion and could even lead to marriage if that's something you both want. finances won't be a problem for either of you. brace yourself cause it seems like your person is right around the corner! very happy for you :)

find out more here: ♡

leave a tip: ♡

channeled song:

♡

III.

significant signs: the beatles, monkeys, palm trees, fur boots, cocktails, germany, hummingbirds, golden necklace, december, 1212, 222, 888, 555.

zodiac signs: leo, libra, cancer, sagittarius, capricorn, taurus.

your next relationship will be all about healing. whoever this person is, they will almost surprise you with how much love they'll hold for you. it's like finally feeling warmth after spending a whole life out in the cold. i'm seeing someone deeply stuck in their insecurities and self sabotaging tendencies, your mind might tell you you're not deserving of love and this person will take it as their mission to make you believe you are. it's a gentle and caring type of love, one that speaks through actions rather than words. this person will be your anchor and just overall someone you can count on at all times. they're very caring and sweet, they'll treat you as if you were glass. there'll be a lot of deep conversations and opening up to each other. this relationship will be based on trust. it could be someone you already know or already know of. you might have mutual friends and meet at a party or a special occasion that will require you to dress a bit fancier than usual. this person will immediately want to strike a conversation with you and they'll be endeared by your shyness and modesty. it's a relationship that will heal your relationship with yourself and help you see you're much more deserving and worthy than you were raised to believe. you'll definitely have a family together in the future :).

find out more here: ♡

leave a tip: ♡

channeled song:

[choochooboss]

Submas Sketchdump Vol. 4 July 2022 Part 2!!

I knew that particular month beat my all time record for productivity multifold but I had forgotten SO MANY PIECES from the original collection!! I think I finally got them all?? More stuff under the cut!!

BREAKMAS!! WIP of the first piece I posted of them, here's the link to the final version! I tried coloring this first but the black & white had ultimately more impact so I went with that!

TRAINS!! I like this base color version too! Link to the final version!

The top sketch is a direct reference to Cluedo! A spinoff game, "Missingo", starring certain familiar characters trying to figure out what happened to Ingo/trying to prove their innocence in the case! Also WIP sketches for these two Breakmas comic pages!

As you may know I adore butlermas! For the classy and stylish look which appeals to me in general, and coincidentally I had played PLA & got hit by submas train only one week before butler Ingo's banner rolled out! The pure bliss of finally meeting both twins in a game I felt was incomparable!! This moment in the Curious Tea Party event was really entertaining to me! We got to see submas get serious and stand up against this selfish collector thief! Two towering train twinks with commanding voices looming over the unfortunate guy was enough to make him change his mind ahah! They truly are the protectors

1-hour submas challenge prompt "Descend"! This is the actual one hour result before I continued rendering this!

Mmmmm not my first attempt at drawing them hug and definitely not my best OR last. I want to make that moment something very special when I finally go all out on it!!

Comic cover vibing~

The scrapped last page for this silly comic! Sorry the dialogue is all over the place on the first piece, might be hard to read! I wasn't happy with how I presented Elesa, I wasn't familiar enough with her character back then so I thought of her carrying a toy taser to threat her friend even as a joke was too much and I couldn't come up with anything else for it. This held me back from posting the other three pages for another 5 months! In the last panel

I prefer to not mess up the twins too much but my brain is still very curious and conjures some peculiar stuff like this sometimes.. I think I may have broken his arms there looking at the anatomy, ooops! I hope you don't mind the photo quality or the two weird guys in the corner, they escaped containment!

Idea of warden Ingo, being projected to modern era by his Alakazam, walking through crowd on a train platform & Emmet standing inside a passing train. Their eyes meet for just a few seconds...

Pokemas Ingo practise!

Another WIP of a piece I posted! I started this piece like this but then later I decided to flip the whole thing.

YET another WIP of something I already posted! No idea why I went and mixed up his suits but I like this sketch! They rarely end up looking this clean haha

Sketch version of the self-defense practise piece! I love getting creative with action stuff! I barely ever think of how difficult they are to draw, I just get so excited and fixated on visualising the scenes in my mind I just keep at it, pull out refs and pose in front of mirrors until it looks good to me! I want to draw more action scenes but besides being challenging to draw my brain comes up with more silly and cute ideas than cool ones unfortunately ahah

One more WIP, here's the link to the final results!! I really like how genuine their expressions look here even if the faces are a little off. I recall spending a long time figuring out this perspective. I thought it would be fun to you to see how all these pieces started and... looking at the sketch above and the stuff before that, you can compare some range of my style!

RANDOM SUBMAS MISSILES GO

OHHH looks like some nasty passengers got the best of them!! If I recall correctly there was no fight because they managed to paralyse the two before they could act. Fully awake yet completely helpless... how convenient unfortunate. Thank you so much for checking these out!! Not every sketch is that exciting but I'm always happy to hear your thoughts on these!

Previous posts: Sketch dump Vol. 1: April-June 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 2: July 2022 Sketch dump Vol. 3: August 2022

[nymphea0]

Kurkans Mate.

The Beast And The Bunny.

Yan! Ishakan x Reader

Part 2.

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.

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Manhwa :약탈혼 / predatory marriage

/ 약탈혼 (완전판)

: Adult Manhwa (18+)

Author/Illustrations : Saha / Hera(Art)

Word Count : 2.34K Word.

Hello.. Neva again here, I hope you are well and happy and have a nice days

might have some bad grammars, correct me if there are any mistakes in the words in the story I wrote. Anyways i hope you all enjoys my story,love much.- Neva🦋🦋.

- Kurkans Mate Pt.1

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It's been about 3 months since you lived with Esmera, you helped Esmera not only because she saved you, Esmera was also willing to take you in.

Your activities are very ordinary, not much different from how you spend your days in Antra village, looking for herbs and mushrooms and planting vegetables, and collecting firewood.

It's been 3 months since you last met an exotic-skinned man who was injured in this forest.

You sometimes think is this a good choice to save this man? Indirectly you also reveal your identity to the foreign man through your blood healing.

And from the bottom of your heart, you feel a very bad feeling, but you don't know what causes that worry.

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Ishakan, a man from the Kurkans tribe, has an extraordinarily handsome appearance and abilities that are above average humans.

The Kurkans have no shame and are openly hostile to anyone they don't like, the Kurkans will kidnap those they consider to be their partners. Either by force or not.

The Kurkans tribe, is a tribe with the blood of the beast. Animal blood. For some of the continent's inhabitants, the Kurkans are barbarians.

However, on some continents, the Kurkans are also used as slaves, either sexually or just as guards. But slaves are still slaves.

Ishakan is one of the slaves of the nobles, freed by a princess from the kingdom of Estia, Princess Leah Von Estia.

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.

At night in a brothel, Leah walks in wearing a robe and wig to cover her real hair, which is white as the moon.

Walking slowly towards a man with an athletic body covered in a black robe.

"So you are my bed partner?" The voice that sounded quite rough, it can be seen that this is the voice of a noble lady.

Ishakan who saw the princess, could only grin and guide the princess into the room that had been prepared.

Closing the door, then with one push Ishakan pushed Leah against the wall, causing her wig to fall off, her face flushed red when she saw how handsome Ishakan was.

"Why would a princess go to this dirty side of town?" Grinning slightly at Leah, with a voice that sounded seductive, Ishakan asked.

Leah gave explanation after explanation to Ishakan. Leah had no hope of living anymore, with the fact that her family sold her to a nobleman who was as old as her father, Leah could not accept her virginity being given to that nobleman!

Chastity is the highest honor in the kingdom of Estia, because it concerns the dignity and self-esteem of the family, especially a royal family, so Leah has a mission before she gets married, she will embarrass her family by removing her chastity.

Ishakan looked at Leah with a difficult look, on the one hand he didn't want to take Leah's chastity, and on the other hand he also couldn't let his savior suffer, even though Ishakan was sure Leah didn't remember him, because the incident was so long ago.

.

. .

Morning finally, the experts took Leah's purity, Ishakan negotiated with Leah, he would help Leah, although at first Leah really didn't trust Ishakan especially when she found out Ishakan was a kukrans!, a barbarian with animal blood.

A delegation took place between the Estia kingdom and the Kurkan kingdom, where this delegation included peace and an end to war as well as looting and slavery.

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It has been about 3 months since Ishakan has worked as a Kurkan king, the case of the gyipsey that sold drug and sorcery and the case of the attempted release of the Estia queen who turned out to be a dark witch or as the sorceress

And it has been 3 months since he last saw his wild rabbit, you.

Ishakan still remembers the taste and smell of you and your blood. So much that Ishakan is looking for and exploring about your blood, a blood that can heal wounds!

The Antrabeth tribe, Ishakan only knows as a mythical tribe that is said to be a tribe that fights nature because their blood can heal every kind of wound and disease, as well as long life, a tribe that is loved by nature.

However, all of his efforts to find traces of the Antrabeth tribe were in vain, once the world was shocked by the appearance of soldiers carrying blood and a head with blue hair, the Antrabeth tribe became extinct.

The witches, kings and nobles, tried to drink the blood of the Antrabeth tribe, instead of getting long life and healing from the illnesses they experienced, they actually experienced very terrible conditions!

Their skin blistered with bumps all over their bodies that moved, until a nature witch discovered that the blood of the Antrabeth tribe would not work.

if the owner of the blood does not give consent to the blood that is drunk. Those who drink, take and kill the Antabeth tribe, the child of nature by force, they will experience the curse of 1001 nights, a curse where they will not die but also not live.

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Closing the book entitled History of the Child of Nature, Antrabeth.

Ishakan sighed, grinning slightly, something inside him screamed very loudly since he met you, his animal instinct, the kurkans instinct.

If the Antrabeth tribe is extinct, then you are the only one left, Ishakan can't help but claim you, make you his mate!

'Tok'

'Tok'

'Tok'

Genin, Ishakan's aide who doubles as his right hand, entered the room while carrying several rolls of old parchment.

"Your Majesty, here are some carefully selected candidates for the kurkans queen."

Genin handed the scroll to Ishakan.

Ishakan just nodded and opened the scroll, several names of princesses and noble ladies were visible, one of them was Princess Leah Von Estia.

"Take it away, I have found my mate" with his deep voice Ishakan said while grinning.

Ishakan stood up slowly then looked at the genin and said.

"Prepare my horse, I will pick up my wild rabbit" laughed softly as he left his king's room.

Leaving the Genin who stared at Ishakan with goosebumps, every time Ishakan laughed there were only 2 conditions, 1 Ishakan was in a bad mood where usually Ishakan would return to the palace in a state of blood from his victims, and the second condition Ishakan was in a good mood, where every object of his pleasure would definitely end between happiness or... death.

Genin, who never believed in the god of the kurkans in her entire life, prayed to the old gods for the poor creature who managed to catch the attention of Ishakan, the strongest king of the kurkans in the history of the previous kings of the kurkans.

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Ishakan with his stallion as dark as night moved almost more than 5 hours to the place where his wild rabbits were. Normally if he rode a horse he would need 12 days to get here, but because of his animal instincts which also led to his horse, what was originally 12 days, became 5 hours, strange but it's the kurkans we're talking about.

Ishakan with his sharp memory and navigation from your scent, of course he could easily find the forest where you live.

The same forest where Ishakan was injured and resting.

Looking around the forest, Ishakan with his golden eyes like an animal shone brightly as soon as he found the forest he was looking for in front of his eyes, Ishakan could feel the circulation of illusion magic around this forest.

Smirking softly, Ishakan then got off his horse, walking slowly but full of unstoppable enthusiasm, Ishakan entered the dark forest, as soon as Ishakan entered a thick fog covered the forest.

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You, are helping Esmera make gingerbread cookies, and various other cookies.

You are currently not in the disguise of the 1 drop potion for your hair and eyes.

Esmera saw you who was right across the kitchen table could only stare in awe. Your bright blue hair shone brightly at night caused by the reflection of the moonlight, which was as bright and blue as the sky or aquamarine crystal.

But it wasn't just your hair that fascinated her, but your eyes were also very enchanting, as if your eyes were sky stars, a mixture of purple, blue, yellow and gray and there were small white spots around your eyes, like beautiful sky stars.

Sighing softly, Esmera continued to mold gingerbread cookies, while asking you who looked so enthusiastic about decorating gingerbread cookies.

"So excited, huh? Have you never baked before?"

You who were so excited decorating the gingerbread that now looked like a person but in a small and bald version, looked at Esmera and shook your head slowly.

"My family doesn't have much money, so every week we can only bake bread that lasts for at least 1 week.".

In Esmera's eyes you are like a very small, cute and weak kitten! A kitten that needs to be protected and kept safe from the cruelty of this world.

Before Esmera could speak again, the door of the hut was forcibly broken down by someone who broke in!

Esmera was as fast as lightning even though Esmera was old, Esmera was still a nature witch. Esmera placed you behind her, with a silver dagger in her hand.

Esmera's heart screamed in panic!, how could she not feel the ringing of her illusion magic when someone entered the forest?!. There were only 2 answers, one could be that this person had a low life force so that her illusion magic considered something harmless, and the second was a kurkans, kurkans are strong, more stronger the kurkans, more useless a magic is!, but how could kurkans be here? The desert oasis of the kurkans tribe takes at least 12 days to get here

Both you and Esmera look in horror at the entrance to the kitchen.

The sound of heavy footsteps can be heard getting closer to the kitchen.

You of course hold a kitchen knife in your hand.

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Ishakan walks through each forest carefully, until he stops and sits sweetly on a tree trunk, looking towards the hut, Ishakan can see an open window, looking around the room, it must be the kitchen.

Grinning softly until he sees you taking a tray of cookies, your hair that he thought was brown, turns out to be as blue as the sky?!, oh by the old gods of the kurkans, Ishakan wants to come to you, claim you as his!.

You are so beautiful, so fragile and weak, so perfect for him!, his life partner!, his mate!.

With one kick, Ishakan came down from the towering tree, walking towards the door of his wild rabbit hut.

With one kick, Ishakan entered the house whose door had now been destroyed and fell to the floor miserably due to his powerful kick.

Walking slowly until he entered the kitchen, looking towards the corner of the room, where Ishakan was sure the old woman in front of you was a natural witch, because only natural witches used bone necklaces.

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Esmera stared in horror at the figure not far in front of her, tall, with a black leather robe, and a long-handled sword, and a smell that reflected an animal, kurkans!

With a sharp voice full of alert Esmera asked.

"Who are you?!, what do you want from our little hut?!"

Instead of an answer, a laugh! That deep and rich voice was what laughed at them.

You who were behind Esmera were increasingly panicking in your heart, afraid and thinking that this person was an enemy soldier who was still looking for you!!

"Calm down woman, I'm only here to take what is mine, my mate"

That deep voice that sounded very arrogant... have you heard it before! That exotic skinned foreign man with golden eyes like an animal?!.

"You?!"

Loudly and pointing a knife at the figure you pointed at him with full courage.

Esmera looked at you confused, wondering if you knew this figure.

Ishakan he laughed, seeing you in the corner of the room, very small like a rabbit or kitten that was growling at him, oh.. his partner was so cute and fragile. So soft and weak, really in need of protection.

Ishakan gently opened the hood of his robe, revealing his handsome face, decorated with a wide grin showing a row of neat and clean teeth and some of his fangs.

"You remember me right? I came here to take what is mine"

Esmera, she immediately knew what this figure meant!

"Listen Kurkans! You can't take her as your mate! This child is mine, I found her first!"

Emsera ran while carrying a silver dagger in her hand towards this stranger.

But what Esmera fought was a kurkans, of course Emsera was immediately defeated with just one flick of the sword handle that Ishakan didn't even open!

Esmera fell unconscious on the floor.

You who saw Esmera, the figure of the witch and your savior was already on the floor, in a state of fainting caused by the stranger you saved.

You froze stiffly, not realizing that the stranger you saved was already in front of you!

Your chin was raised, your galaxy eyes met the eyes with the golden irises of the animal.

The stranger spoke in his deep voice.

"Don't we know each other, my wild rabbit?"

Chuckling softly while stroking your face and your bright blue hair, a stark contrast to his brown hair, so smooth like silk.

The man brought his mouth close to your ear, whispering in his deep voice.

"I am Ishakan, Ishakan Kurkans, Your life partner. Your mate."

You stared at this man named Ishakan in horror as he stared at you with eyes full of love, passion and animalism.

His grin was the last thing you saw before darkness descended upon you.

.

.

.

*Source Image : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 ,OG story, Project Dark Manhwa Character Series.

Tag list; @snowflakes666 @nerdygoateepeanut @blurryperrtymoonlight @luminethebest @scenicelixir @n4muqr @cannyyyyy @athena-roy @sirenetheblogger

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions, Always be good people Dear. Much love, Neva🦋🦋.

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 5

Part 4

Warning on this one for description of vivisection injuries

Bruce is the first out of the Batmobile when they pull into the cave specifically to raise a finger to his lips and sign to his collected children to be quiet.

Dick, Damian, and Tim all beat them there, and Steph seems to have invited herself back from patrol in order to see what's up with the creature nobody could see over video feed.

Alfred hovers quietly because of the unknown injuries that likely need treating.

The kids all give him varying prompting looks of confusion about the order as he moves to open Cass's door for her.

He turns and signs to them what Cass had carefully signed to him in the car.

She thinks he's asleep.

Everyone's eyes bug out in surprise, Dick and Steph both making faces like they want to coo out an ‘awwwww.’

Damian seems like he would be tempted to do the same if he wasn't still more than a little wary.

Cass climbs out of the car slowly and carefully, trying not to disturb the sinuous shadow who still has his head tucked into her shoulder and tail and arms wrapped around her.

Steph's eyes get wide, the only one of the kids present who hasn't seen him yet. Alfred barely reacts aside from a slight rise of the brows.

Alfred inclines his head towards the medbay, but Cass hesitates and shakes her head.

It's a little difficult when she's trying to make sure the creature stays secure, but she manages to sign awkwardly behind his back.

Very scared when I mentioned doctors. Probably trauma.

Waking up in anything resembling a medical facility probably wouldn't go well, in other words. Alfred hums quietly, mulling that over for a moment before he nods and gestures for the kids to come help him.

Quietly and efficiently, the group pulls a bed and supplies out of the isolated medbay and into the cave at large, closer to the lounge area the kids have slowly built up through the years than anything.

Ideally the change of venue will be unnecessary, but if the creature does wake up it's worth trying to lessen the chances of immediate backlash.

It's really no wonder he passed out, Bruce thinks. Cass had made it clear he was exhausted and on the verge. None of them are under any illusions that that's not why he accepted her help.

She was the least terrifying option and he was running on fumes.

Alfred glances at Cass, and that's all the prompting she needs to come over and very gently lean down to set the creature on his back on the bed.

Alfred is just as gentle when he has to carefully pluck the shadowy claws out of her cape in order to get him to let go, and Cass carefully unwinds the long tail from her waist and legs.

When she straightens back up, Bruce closes his eyes hard for a moment and bites back a wave of nausea.

Jesus Christ. Medical trauma? No fucking wonder.

Bruce forces himself to open his eyes and look.

Whatever this creature is, whoever he is, he must have escaped straight off of an operating table. The green blood is leaking from haphazard stitches just barely holding a massive Y incision on his torso together.

Vivisection.

Distantly, Bruce hears Dick retching. Sees his kids in varying states of distress over the same conclusions Bruce has just come to.

Mostly, he's focusing on trying to breathe through his anger. It's of no use to any of them right now - they need him calm.

It's strange, looking at the creature's face now. With eyes and mouth closed it's a blank slate of black, no features to be found. Like a mannequin head, misty white hair still unbound by gravity.

Parts of him are just barely translucent, mostly the edges of limbs. Bruce has never seen anything like him.

Alfred catches his eye with practiced ease, signing quickly and looking solemn. Bruce can see the pain hidden behind his calm features, his dismay that something horrific has been done to a living creature.

There is not much I can do without opening him back up, especially not knowing what he is or what is normal. Disinfect, stitch and bandage. Then hope for the best.

Bruce sighs slowly through his nose, feeling helpless but nodding. 

Alfred turns to Cass for a moment.

I assume because you are calm that he is not meant to be breathing?

Bruce nearly chokes, eyes darting back to the dark figure on the bed. Indeed, there's no motion.

Cass nods. Her chest is very green.

Hasn't been. Seems fine.

He doesn't breathe - at least not visibly. Is he like a salamander, does he take oxygen in through his skin?

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter right now. This creature - this boy - needs help. He needs his chest disinfected and his scant few stitches redone.

From the looks of them, Bruce would bet money that he did those stitches himself not too long ago.

Masterpost

[marrowdrip]

*Good Girl*

Your eyes shoot open, staring widely at your own reflection in the bathroom mirror, as the sharp thought strikes your brain like a bolt of lightning.

*Good Girl*

You shudder with pleasure as your mind is suddenly and entirely consumed by those two words... The words your Owner whispers into your brain all the time... But Master didn't say those words this time, so where did they come from...?

*Good Girl*

You know you have to be a good girl, but of course you do. You need to be told what to do, what to think. Taking a deep breath, your thoughts retreat into the foggy pink cloud that your mind has become... Good girls don't think... Good girls are only pink...

Mindlessly going about your routine, your hands find the lip gloss on the bathroom counter top. Smiling vacantly at your own reflection, you admire the outfit you chose for the day; two braided pigtails surround your empty little head, resting on the pink crop top covering your tits. The words "angel baby" run across the top in black ink. Below your bare midriff is a pink and white mini skirt, just barely covering your tush, which is enhanced by the pink platform heels on your feet... Finally picking up the pink tinted glitter lip gloss, you rest your elbows on the counter to apply the gloss, bending at the hip to make it very clear you're not wearing panties. Almost as soon as the brush hits your lip for the first time, your eyes glaze over while staring deep into the mirror...

*Good Girl*

As if you were zoned out, suddenly everything becomes much more enhanced... Your elbows are aching from resting on the counter top for too long... Looking in the mirror, you realize you have put on too much pink glitter lip gloss... It's dripping off of your lips at this point... drip... drop... As if you were putting it on without stopping for ten minutes... Your lips are dripping... drooling... drip... drop... You can feel something dripping between your legs... Squirming and rubbing your thighs together... It feels like... cum... drooling from your pussy... drip... drop... Onto the floor next to your heels... Master's cum...? Your head is even more foggy then usual, but you manage to form some words....

"uuhn... M-m-maaaaaster..."

You look over at your Owner... He's naked, his cock pulsing from having recently unloaded, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he looks over at you... He can't hide his satisfaction...

"w-wh-what habbened?"

Your lips seem heavy as words almost spill from your lips; you find it difficult to speak as the excess lip gloss causes your speech to appear even slower and dumber than normal...

His words are a deep whisper in your ear, making you tremble as thoughts of obedience bubble through your mind... "Don't you remember, doll? I remodeled the bathroom... I installed the new mirror last night, don't you like it...?" Your lips hang open, vapidly drooling and dribbling down your chin as you stare up at Him with bambi eyes... He gently grip your jaw with my hand and whispers calmly, "Why don't you take another look?" He places another hand on the back of your head and gently forces your head to turn, until you face the mirror again, and a comforting sight awaits you... Master, naked and towering over his bimbo as she leans onto the countertop... dripping... drooling...

*Good Girl*

You zone in again, no longer in front of the mirror, and your tongue hanging out... no... It's licking... adjusting to your newfound position, you realize you've been obediently crawling and licking the bathroom tile... The cum that had been dripping out of your pussy onto the floor is now back within you... The flavor dances on your tongue as you lap and swallow until the floor is clean... Still, you're not in control of your body... As if in a trance, you use your fingers to open your mouth wide and move your tongue around, presenting your empty head up to Master while on your knees, wiggling your little tush...

"Good girl"

You shiver with pleasure as you hear your Owner actually utter the words this time...

"Now that you've swallowed up the mess you made, you need to clean up Master as well..." Crawling over to His cock, seemingly powerless to do anything except obey, your lips curve into an innocent smile as you kiss the tip of His cock before wrapping your lips around the head... Slowly, you begin bobbing your head up and down, leaving a trail of slime and pink glitter lip gloss on His shaft...Your mind quiets down as the confusion disappears now that you are where you're supposed to be... On your knees, serving Master... After several blissful minutes with your pigtails firmly in Master's clutches, you can feel His cock swell in your mouth before erupting at the back of your throat, cum coating your tongue as it's removed from your wet hole with a *pop.*

You lick your lips and grin up at me, happy you didn't spill any cum. Then, your eyes go wide and you yelp in surprise as Master uses one hand to grip the back of your head, just below your neck, lifting you up with ease and forcing you to look into the mirror...

*Good Girl*

When you zone in this time, you're laying on the bed, your hand desperately forcing a vibrator against your clit at high speed... You 'woke up' just in time to keep yourself from orgasming, pulling the vibrator away and riding the pleasurable waves of denial, as the bliss of obedience washes over you... You're a good girl... You will never forget your most important rule... You are only allowed cum when Master gives you permission... You sigh, as a silly grin spreads across your face as lay panting, empty, edged... Eventually, your eyes drift up to the ceiling... That's funny... When did Master install a mirror on the ceiling...?

*Good Girl*

[with-my-calamitous-love]

SIX WEEKS (8 YEARS) OF BREATHING CLEAN AIR / I STILL MISS THE SMOKE

touya todoroki x reader

you finally bring yourself to visit your husband in the hospital.

mha official ending spoilers

part 2/3, part 1

inspired by the black dog

what a long 8 years.

touya’s defeat came at no surprise to you. as much as you wanted to root for your husband, to hope he achieves the twisted, revenge-filled dreams he dedicated his like (death) to, you knew his attempts would be futile.

you knew that the moment shouto’s fists connected with your husbands, it’d be over. the flames would subside, and dabi’s fiery reign would come to an end. for just a moment, in the midst of the blue and red flames, you saw a glimpse of two broken brothers. just a glimpse.

what followed wasn’t any less heartbreaking. touya was kept alive in his own, high tech cell. though he had made sure to keep you hidden from the world, you heard from short whispers that there was nothing that could be done about his current state. he could only manage a few words, his vessel slowly slowly dissipating into nothing but ash.

you absolutely could not bring yourself to visit. not in any of those 8 years. maybe its because you knew you could very well be hearing your last words from him soon.

too many memories engulfed in fire. his arsons match and your tear-stained eyes, watching it all helplessly.

so for as long as you could, you stayed in your house, grieving for the living.

until now.

it wasn’t a surprise you were eventually found out. when you opened your door, expecting the mail, you were greeted with a familiar face- not when you were angry about seeing, but not particularly delighted by any means. his dual coloured eyes and scar similar to that of your husbands- not by look but by origin.

you honestly couldn’t remember how he convinced you to leave your home. he may as well have dragged you by your feet, into his car and to the facility they were keeping touya in. this man was technically your brother, too. but seeing him felt like a wound reopened.

touya laid there, his body weak and emaciated, as the machines beeped and whirred around him, monitoring his vital signs and keeping him alive. a futile but admittedly impressive effort by his rich father, wanting to somehow make amends. everyone knew, however, that he was not saving a life- he was prolonging a death. the death of his firstborn son, to be exact.

his mind was hazy, his vision blurry as he struggled to keep his eyes open. the sound of the machines became a constant, familiar background noise, almost like white noise.

as he laid there, fading in and out of consciousness, one thought ran through his mind again and again: you.

while you stood outside the room, touya’s barren body laid in his tomb. his eyelids could hardly closed, so he was more or less forced to take in the grief-stained drywall. he thought about you, every single day. wondered where you were, how you could be doing- he hoped it was better now that he was gone.

your hand was wrapped shakily around the doorknob. just one twist and push. but it felt as though that door was made of iron. why was it suddenly so heavy? why was it being weighed down with the weight of your love and grief all rolled into one?

“…i don’t think i can do this.” you say shakily, a single tear rolling down your eye at the thought of seeing your dying husband after all this time.

a hand is placed on your shoulder. a comforting touch, like one who is learning to navigate through the grief alongside you.

shouto stood silently beside you, his expression stoic as he waited for you to make a decision.

he knew how difficult this must be for you, the years of pain and guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders. if he was grieving a man he hardy knew as his brother and more as a villain, he couldn’t even grasp how his wife must be feeling- someone who had loved him despite it all.

“you can do it.” he says softly, his voice firm but gentle as he tries his best to hold it together. he doesn’t want you to face this alone, though he knows he cant enter that room with you.

“you’ve made a good name for yourself.” you say, acknowledging shouto’s growth. at least one of the two brothers can still live, still be happy. “no one even calls you endeavours son anymore.”

he nods silently, his expression softening slightly at your words.

“i guess so.” he said quietly, a small hint of a smile on his face. he doesn’t dare to jinx his success. “ i’ve… i’ve tried to separate myself from my father’s shadow, to be my own person.”

he says for a paused moment, looking at the small glass panel that gave a window into touya’s room, his hand still resting on your shoulder.

“but t wasn’t easy. it never is.” he says, taking a deep breath before speaking his next piece.

“the doctors think they can buy him a few more months, maybe.” shouto reveals. the extent of your absence towards your dying husband finally begins to sink in. you waited until it was almost too late to see him. its a guilt like no other. what could you possibly say about to him after all this time?

“…i’m going in.” you say, pushing the door open and letting it close behind you with a click that rings through the room.

theres constant whirring and beeping from the technology keeping touya breathing. he lays there, his body held together by planks of metal and wiring. god, as morbid as it may seem, you wondered why they were even trying at this point?

he doesn’t seem to notice you, not till you walk closer to him. its hard to move his head with that brace around his skull, anyway.

his eyes weakly tracked your movements as you weakly made your way over to the bed, pressing your hands against the glass keeping him inside of his pod. he recognizes you, because how could he not? he married you, after all.

“…hey.” you manage, despite the dryness on your tongue.

your heart clenches as you watch him try and respond. his throat was dry and raspy, like his quirk had given him sandpaper for lung. he was forced to swallow several times before he could even mutter a word.

“hey..” he finally croaks out, his voice barely above a whisper, hoarse and strained.

you take a deep breath, silently cursing yourself for your already shaky words.

“you look like shit.” you have the audacity to chuckle at him, the numb laughter devoid of any empathy. you were grieving, grieving yet angry. as much as you understood and wanted to understand, he still left you.

touya would be nothing if not an asshole.

“thanks, doll.” his voice almost mechanical. “..don’t look too hot yourself.”

there he is. that smartass touya you love. his quick tongue and his smart heard, smarter then he lets on. you love his remarks, his sass, his demeanour. and it seemed that even through all this pain, he still managed to give you some of it.

the tears are already sliding down your cheeks, knowing that this is likely the last time you’ll ever get to feel it.

and for a moment, through your hazy eyes, a silver glimmer catches your eyes.

“…you kept the ring..?” you have to rub your eyes, unsure if its just a grief-stricken illusion.

he scoffs, as if it should be obvious. “yeah… course i did.”

his time is running out and you both know it. you cringe watching his weaken state, trying to slide the ring off his finger. you quickly hush him, your delicate hands carefully reaching into his pod to help him remove the band. though most of his nerves are killed off, he feels as though he’s truly lost his favourite part of him.

his eyes continue to grow tired, but me fights them valiantly to catch a glimpse of you slipping the ring onto your own hand. he had taken that part of him, and given it to you.

you sob, pressing your forehead against the glass. your hand just barely grazes his, feeling the charred skin you still loved, no matter how dead.

“i love you.” you sob, baring your soul to your husband. his eyes close, feeling the exhaustion sink in- but he can’t give in. not when this is his last chance to see his wife.

despite the pain and the knowledge of his imminent death, he manages to find his voice and responds, his voice hoarse but filled with a raw intensity of emotion. he’s doing everything to stay with you right now, though you know it can’t ever make it up.

“… i love you… too…” he croaks, letting what soul he has left reach itself out to you.

“and i’m so mad at you.” you sob. “not just you… i’m mad at the world.. i’m at the world that let your father get away with abusing you and breaking you down.. i’m mad at the world that didn’t see you were a boy who needed help. i’n mad at the universe for not giving you and i a chance… i’m mad at your god damn fire for taking you away from me.”

your tears slide down the glass, only continuing as you see his eyes close. he’s still breathing, yes, but either he was so exhausted from fighting death, or he couldn’t bare to see you in this much pain. probably both.

“i know… i’m… sorry…” he prays you know how sorry he really is. for doing this to you. for exposing you to the evil of the world when he should have been protecting you.

“..don’t cry..” he rasps, asking more for him than for you. you scoff.

“i’ll cry if i damn want to, touya.” you chuckle. “i lost my husband.”

just for a second, its almost like he smiles.

“you… still… call me.. that?”

without a trace of hesitation, you nod. “of course i do.”

he’s having trouble forming his next words and you can tell. you know you have to do it. you somehow have to say goodbye.

“i love you, touya todoroki. i love you so much.” you declare, showing your soul to him right before he enters the afterlife- maybe so he knows to look for you once your time comes as well.

“…i… love you.. too..” he rasps. he’s trying and you love him for it, despite the sobs that choke out of you seeing his struggle just to speak.

“i’ll never ever, ever forget you. i wouldn’t dream of it.” you whisper.

“you better not…” he rasps out weakly. what a fucking smartass you married.

you cant kiss him. but you do press your forehead and your lips to the glass, and give his hand once last squeeze. you have to rip yourself from the room and out the door, otherwise you might have stayed in there forever.

the door clicks behind you. a breath escapes your lips, knowing that you have truly said your goodbye. you still clutch his silver ring on your finger.

the ring served as a reminder. that no matter what happens now, a part of your soul forever belonged to touya todoroki. that no matter how many of your clothes you burn and how many exorcisms you perform on your house, the love you shared with touya will never leave. no matter how much clean air you breath, a small part of you will always miss the smoke he gave. always.

you vowed to never forget him, anyway.

tags!🪽

@the-dumpster-fire-of-life @greenmanshoe @connorsui

[comfortscripts]

A Glimpse Of What I'd Do For You l Coriolanus Snow

Plot - As the First Lady of Panem, it is your duty to protect your husband. Even if it means dirtying your hands. But what is a little blood when the reward is so sweet? Pairing - Young!President!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Female!Reader Warnings - Heavy plot + light porn. They are both mad, but sweet for each other. Murder/execution with guns, blood, body worship (??), nipple play, toxic language (??), light aspects of oral (fem receiving), softdom!corio. I fully believe he would be a total simp for someone on his wavelength Word Count - 1,288

Check out the rest of my kinktober fics

“Darling, could I trouble you for a moment?”

Words breaking through the tense atmosphere that Coriolanus has cultivated in his private office. Harsh oak furniture, meticulously organised bookcases, swirls of browns and reds with faint hints of a cool gold. The help liked to say the cold of the room matched Mr. Snow’s frozen heart, but even the ruthless President of Panem couldn’t help the way his shoulders relaxed at his wife’s delicate words.

“You are never a trouble,” he spoke with the push of his sturdy throne-like chair against the floor, punctuating his words. “Come in, my snowdrop.”.

The First Lady of Panem was nothing if not obedient. Perhaps that’s why Coriolanus allowed you into his kingdom after six months of marriage.

Wordlessly, you rounded the desk to perch yourself upon his navy-blue-clad leg and perfectly placed a light kiss against his lips. The kind of kiss that tempted him to become entangled in your sweet web regardless of duties. Piercing blues too busy consuming his prize, thinking of all the ways to corrupt his pretty petal. Not even noticing you slide a sleek silver tablet onto the desk.

“I have a gift for you, Corio.”

A glossy black screen stared back at him with a barely visible play button. Those pale digits broke from your waist to start the show before returning to their previous position. He could feel the shift of your body and took close note of how you were biting back a smile.

Suddenly a face that has haunted his dreams appeared: Lucy Gray Baird. Coriolanus could feel the bile rising in his throat at the sight of that traitor. Despite the fact she was strapped to a chair with thick masking tape covering her sickening mouth, he felt uneasy.

“What is this?”

“Freedom. Keep watching, my love.”

The tense grasp on your waist must have been aching, almost as if he was punishing you for showing him this she-devil. But it was soon alleviated as he saw your graceful figure walk into the cell of Lucy Gray. Stark white gown, as pure as snow, standing there inches away from her. Stoic guards either side of your regal stance, part of Coriolanus compared your image to the Queen being flanked by knights on his chessboard staring down a lowly pawn.

“Firstly, I'd like to say thank you, Lucy Gray. If you hadn’t betrayed the only good thing in your life, I wouldn’t have my darling husband. Truly, I appreciate it.”

This wasn’t his snowdrop. Never had he heard your voice that dominant and cold. Part of him preened at the words being spoken, yet he feared what was to come. Who had he married?

“You were very difficult to track down. See, originally, I wanted you gone because I knew he loved you, and I don’t like sharing. But then I found out that you wanted to destroy him. Drive him insane with your silly little tweety songs. And, well, no one can drive him crazy except me.”

Just as his mind caught up with the intentions of your words, a glistening of his father’s legendary pistol came into focus. Pointed between the eyes of the witch who once trapped his heart.

“Goodbye Lucy Gray. No one will remember you, and the Snow family will live forever.”

The bang of the bullet felt like an earthquake, but the image of you, his innocent little petal, with blood seeping into your porcelain dress was enough to silence all thoughts. Screen fading to black as the guards moved to remove the body.

“Did you like my gift?”

It was so small, as if you had made him a cake and were afraid that you’d added too little sugar. This was the wife he knew, and the wife he was growing to love. He always knew you were perfect; that is why he agreed to his marriage, but this was more than he could ask for.

He craved loyalty, obsession, ruthlessness, and compliance. You were everything he would ever need, wrapped in a pink bow. Finally, an equal, someone to love him the way he wished to be loved. Coriolanus would get rid of anyone you wished, and to know he has your devotion makes him feel invincible.

“It may be the best present anyone has ever given me. Let me thank you for it properly.”

Spider-like touches tingled down your spine before feeling the cool air prick your skin as Corio relieved the zip of its job, allowing your dress to pool in your lap. Three abrupt taps on the desk said everything, and within moments, you settled your bare body against the chill of the wood. There was nothing better than feeling his eyes map your body with such hunger. Swirls of lust flush through his eyes as he lightly runs his long digits over the exposed skin.

“Who knew my sweetheart could be so fierce? Those hands weren’t made for killing; they are far too pretty. And who would have expected those callous words to come from such beautiful lips? But you did it for me. Everything you do is for me.”

Standing to attention, he traced the expanse of your collarbone with featherlight touches. Eyes wide watching him in anticipation, every touch made your arousal swell. Never would you rush him; he ruled Panem and your heart. He was your purpose. He was yours. Coriolanus intoxicated you. Faint scents of leather and brandy washed over your senses; the heat of his body against your as he placed calculated kisses against your skin made you dizzy. With so little, he made you feel so much.

A gentle moan fell from your lips as the young president found his mouth on your taunt nipple, carefully flicking the tip with his talented tongue. Oh, how you wish that scandalous mouth was somewhere else right now. His appreciation was felt full force. Those large hands groped at your skin as if he were trying to consume you. Leaving a litter of marks and nips across your chest, as if he were an artist and you, his canvas.

“I would do anything for you, my dear. You gave me freedom from that whore, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to have your love. You are my only obsession. So tell me. Name it, and it is yours.”

A sense of shock washes over you; he has never once asked what you wanted in the bedroom. As with many things in his life, Coriolanus was not open to advice or direction. Images flashed of what you wanted but your tongue tangled as you went to voice it. So caught in the moment, it felt impossible to string a coherent sentence.

“I want- I want you.”

“Be specific, my snowdrop.”

He knew what you wanted. Sinking to the floor as one arm curls around the thickness of your thigh, pulling you closer to his body. That smile told you that he knew, he always knows. Coriolanus wanted to see whether your boldness extended past the video.

“Tell me, Mrs. Snow, how can I please you? You have pleased me so, and I want to show my appreciation, so tell me. Now.”

The feeling of his breath against the wet patch growing on your panties sent a shiver down your spine, feeding the need for his mouth on you. You needed him carnally. Hands wrapped in those icy locks, pale fingers curling inside, and him acting as if he were a man starved.

“I need your mouth- your fingers. Please Corio. Thank me with your mouth. Worship my pussy with those fingers, please, my love.”

Fingers hooking the corners of your underwear, gently discarding the elegant lace. Stormy blues and a haunting smirk told you that he'd be thanking you for hours to come.

“As you wish, my love. I am yours to use, as you are mine.”

A King is only as good as his Queen.

[meglosthegreat]

So... everyone pretty much hated Veilguard's "secret ending", right? Beyond speculation about the Executors themselves, I haven't exactly seen anyone excited about its presence, and for that matter, haven't seen many people talking about it at all.

The closest way I can describe my initial reaction to it was an immediate, visceral disgust. I think I remember uttering at my screen something along the lines of "Fuck off! What the fuck?! Are you fucking kidding me???" and ever since then I've wanted to put into words exactly why it made me feel that way.

For the 88% of you (according to Steam achievement statistics) who didn't see this ending due to not picking up three very specific codex entries by complete chance, you can watch it here. In short, the clip depicts a mysterious voice who sounds suspiciously like Matt Mercer talking about how a group of shadowy figures has "balanced, guided, and whispered" over scenes of villains from the previous DA games, implying that these shadowy figures have been at least partially responsible for all of the bad things happening in Thedas, towards some unknown nefarious purpose.

Now obviously, this sucks. This is hamfisted, unimaginative writing that simultaneously retcons and re-contextualizes elements from DA's past that absolutely no one thought needed further explanation, as well as being exactly the kind of irritating sequel-bait tactics that people have largely grown tired of these days. But why does it suck so much? Why did I feel such palpable distaste for this scene?

For starters, it simply reeks of entitlement, and a lack of respect towards Bioware's own past games. Remember those villains you loved and thought were compelling? Well, their own personal, very complex and thought-out motivations were really just the Executors whispering in their ears the whole time! Loghain making a difficult and calculated decision at great personal cost for a greater good he truly believed in? Executors. Bartrand succumbing to his own greed to the point that he betrays his only family and devolves into a tragic husk of himself? Executors. Corypheus and the Magisters breaching the Golden fucking City??? Executors.

Ignore the infuriating lore ramifications for a second and consider: what do all of these things have in common? They're all instances of complex character motivation; of people in this world doing things for their own reasons that ended up having massive ramifications. In short, they're not events that can be explained easily in terms of black and white morality. And from what we've seen in Veilguard, the current dev team has a serious inability to work with any story elements that do not have absolute moral clarity: the Venatori and the Antaam are Evil. The Shadow Dragons and the Crows are Good. Any nuance; any potential questioning of this duality is quickly explained away or snuffed out.

And that's exactly what they're trying to do, retroactively, with the rest of the series. Having a hard time deciding whether Loghain was right or wrong? Well, worry not, the Executors are Evil and if they were guiding him the whole time, then what he did must have been Evil too! Grappling with how the plot of DA2 was about the inevitable tragedy of a series of oppressive systems reaching their natural breaking point? Well, wrestle no further, for if the Executors were involved then Meredith and Bartrand must've been Evil, no question! What the Magisters did was definitely Not Great, and what do you know, there were consequences for it that they and the whole world very much did pay for. But if the Executors were behind it all, then it was someone else's fault, some Evil power reaching in and making them do what they did, rather than their actions being the result of a horrific series of power abuses done by actual people.

Which leads me to where my initial disgust comes in. Because in a world which has always had core themes of power and its many abuses, actions that have consequences, and the idea that there are no true higher beings; every horrible thing that has ever been done was done by people, the simple act of putting shadowy figures behind key moments in history completely debases and neuters all of those themes. The whole point of Dragon Age as a series up until this point has been to illustrate the complex relationships people and societies have with power, choice, and morality. To remove that link - to place an external force between those characters and their choices - is to rob the series of any meaning whatsoever.

There is a staggering difference between the messaging of a game that tells you ordinary people are to blame for society's wrongs and a game that tells you a secret shadowy faction of evil forces are to blame for them. The former invites thought about one's own society; it has the potential to be uncomfortable and difficult to reconcile with. The latter assures its audience of the fantasy it is couched in. It gives the audience a boogeyman to be angry at, and in so doing deflects any potential for introspection. And that, I think, is the real point of the scene in question.

In a time where our media has become inundated with bland, unchallenging liberal politics, the idea of "cozy" stories have become a growing trend. These types of stories often sport a broad rejection of complicated themes, painful emotions, and nuance, preferring instead to provide a "safe" place to escape to. And with that "safe" space comes a directive not to engage in critical thinking about a work, and not to draw any message from that work and apply it to the real world. Yet this is exactly where Bioware seems to be heading nowadays.

Veilguard has already been faced with heavy criticism about playing things overly safe; removing anything that might be potentially uncomfortable for the player. And the end credits scene is no different. Don't think about things too hard, it whispers to you seductively, in Matt Mercer's soothingly Evil voice. See? The Bad Guys were behind everything, all along.

[notherpuppet]

Is there any particular reason you use ship names with qpr relationships? (Like using a / or radioapple for examples) It makes it a little hard to tell what's meant to be romantic and platonic in fandoms sometimes, no shame for using them obvi and not pushing you to change your tagging or anything. Just wondering

Well the QPR I'm depicting is pretty affectionate (I mean mostly just xo's, not xxx hahaha) so even if it's NOT romantic, it probably may still be perceived as a ship between characters. I'm purposefully displaying a bond that is affectionate and loving, albeit platonic. So I still consider it a ship and that's why I tag it as such.

So with QPRs like radioapple, radiorose, almimzy, radiostatic, etc. etc. (alastor ships pretty much lol) I just figure that if people don't like to see characters in this ship, they're able to just block the tag. There are ships that I don't particularly like, but I just scroll away. It doesn't really bother me, but yknow; we get to cater a lot of our own social media experiences. There's the block and mute options for a reason.

As for ascertaining whether a ship art is QPR or not, I think someone can inquire or just do a little more legwork to figure that out themselves tbh. Some things may not have been written to be QPR, but may fit inside that idea for someone engaging in the artwork/fanfic. Some things may be intentionally written to be QPR and not coincide with a fan's taste or personal ideas. For example, someone may depict a QPR that includes sex. These are valid QPR experiences. On the flip side, someone may not be depicting a QPR and they include nothing explicit or affectionate, but it still fits into someone else's idea of what a QPR can look like. It's not black and white. There is nuance.

We should individually do the work of assessing if a fanart is something that we appreciate or not. AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL AN ARTIST IF YOU DON'T LIKE HOW THEY DO SOMETHING BTW. Just saying. Pretty RUDE ACTUALLY so yknow I would advocate for NOT doing that. I also don't think we need to put it on the artists to define exactly what they're depicting, since it can be a pretty difficult relationship to pin down. Affection and friendship can look very different for lots of people. And I don't think it's necessary for an artist or writer to spell out their intentions for us. Art is a means to express oneself and to have fun. If we choose to engage in an artwork, then we can also interpret it and come to conclusions of our own.

TLDR; I'm gonna go ahead and tag QPRs as their fandom ship names and I think it's up to us as users to cater social media to our tastes individually.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

🤖Pick a Picture: 👾👽The next person you're going to date👽👾

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

👾If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!👾

👽Masterlist👽

👽Pile 1: 9 of Wands, The Sun and King of Wands.

Hi pile 1! This person is someone new coming into your life. "I bring the spark" is what I heard, so expect some really fun adventures with this person. Their presence will help you feel more confident about yourself, bringing out your most fun and adventurous side. Traveling and acquiring new knowledge will be key aspects in this new stage that you will share with this person. They will open you up to new experiences and thoughts, expanding yourself in a unique way. Even though your relationship may be somewhat unconventional or "weird" in some peoples eyes, the connection between you two will be spectacular.

They are also a very charismatic and talkative person, I heard "the peoples princess", so very lovable too. A type of person who gets along with everyone.

👽Signs: Sagittarius and fire signs in general, Gemini, Blond hair, Tan skin, Summer time, Sealing, golden retriever, white shirts, Greece.

👽Pile 2: The Hanged Man, Queen of Cups and 7 of Wands.

Hi pile 2! This person is very sweet and calm. I feel like you are "friends to lovers", you can be friends first and then a couple. It can be someone who is already part of your life or someone you will soon meet.

Their presence in your life will bring stability and tranquility. They will be like "your safe place on earth", someone who will help you connect more with your emotions and with your most intuitive side. They are someone who will do their best to make the relationship beautiful and meaningful. Their sweetness and dedication are very important and I feel that it is one of the pillars that will make the relationship between you so good. This person will be an unconditional support, always willing to be by your side and make every moment together unique and special.

👽Signs: Water signs, White cats, Tall, Glasses, green eyes, Comics, superheroes, winter time, February, blue eyes.

👽Pile 3: 5 of Wands, The Moon and 2 of Pentacles.

Hi pile 3! This person is someone artistic; their vibes make me think of a talented painter, an inspiring writer or even a creative film director. Although they are a bit reserved, they are someone very observant.

It is not easy to gain their trust, i feel that they do not open up easily to all people, but you are the exception to that rule. The relationship you will have with this person will be very healthy and beautiful. Both of you will help each other grow and expand in life. This person will help you to discover a new way of seeing life, discovering your talents and helping you express them.

They will be your unconditional support at all time; they have great emotional intelligence and will give you comfort in difficult times.

👽Signs: Aquarius placements, Aliens, Whales, the sea, Night time, Norway, Snow, Dark hair, Tall height, Black cat energy, August.

👽👾Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 👾👽