#but it's a layer of complexity that like clashes with how little he is there for and how little the author's invested in him

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

Overtime Stamina

(Husband!NANAMI x fem!reader)

SUMMARY: it's one of those nights... When your sweet, loving husband comes home to you, his favourite stress-reliever,from a very long and stressful day at work...

WARNINGS: SMUT⚠️ (MDNI) (p in v sex, unprotected, overstimulation, mentions of praise kink and hair pulling)

A/N: I'm finally back! Been writing this all week, along with the Halloween- themed series I'm working on 😏. Anyways... hopefully you'll like this one, comments and opinions are always appreciated! Thanks to anyone who will read it!

My 🔥 JJK MATERIALIST 🔥 HERE

TAGLIST: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @lordbelkamort @viviennevianna

“Already home, darling?” 

You were standing by the kitchen sink preparing dinner, trying your best to keep your mind occupied until his overtime shift was finally over. You heard the front door creaking open and slam shut closely after. Nanami Kento, your beloved husband, was finally home after a long, stressful day at work. 

No answer. You wiped your wet hands on the kitchen cloth and made your way to the hallway, checking for him. 

But you couldn't even pass the kitchen doorstep that you bumped into your husband’s muscular figure towering over you: his strong hands instantly gripped your waist tightly to pull you flush against him, while his lips smashed onto yours for a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue began to dominantly explore your mouth, unusually rough and demanding, making your teeth almost clash against each other’s.

 “Wow…Welcome home,Ken!” You panted jokingly through the kiss, trying to catch your breath. Nanami didn't even care to answer: his lips just trailed down the curve of your neck and you felt his warm, ragged breath against your skin, hoovering and teasing your pulsepoint.  His suit jacket layed scattered on the hallway ground, an unusual behaviour for your neat and tidy husband. A doubt flashed into your mind: “Long day at the office uh?” you smiled softly at him, wrapping your hands around his toned back.

 No answer. Again. Oh fuck…

You looked up to him with an innocent, questioning look, just to find his golden tired pupils  eyeing you down from above with an unreadable, complex expression adding a dark layer to his usually loving expression. The lingering doubt had just turned into a certainty…

Click.

His veiny hands reached his belt, undoing it effortlessly. In moments like this he didn't even look anything near your sweet, caring husband… in nights like the one you were probably about to embark for, when he headed back home particularly stressed and angry from overtime, he looked more like an enraged beast… and your body typically ended up being the only stress-reliever who could help him calm his racing mind. You soon understood you were in for one of those,very long nights. A thrill crossed your spine at the mere thought. You swallowed, caressing his cheek and feigning obliviousness “Hey Ken…talk to me…H-How was your day?”

“Idiots…” he murmured against the exposed skin of your neckline  “I spent the whole day surrounded by a bunch of nagging and annoying idiots, while my beautiful wife was waiting f’me” he hissed in a low, husky tone.

Zip. Before even realising it, you were bent over the armrest of the expensive black leather couch you both had accurately chosen for your living room, cool air suddenly hitting your exposed buttocks as Kento pulled your lovely, floral skirt up to your waist, drawing your panties aside.

“Couldn't wait to be home, darling… today has been a nightmare, those shitty people always manage to get on my nerves… and that damn overtime…fuck” he complained, while his rough hands travelled up and down your ass and tighs possessively, squeezing the soft flesh “Thank gods I have you… couldn't stop thinking about your tight little hole wrapped around me all day long” he whispered against your heated core, causing you to shiver under his touch. His fingers parted your folds, and a groan escaped his lips at the sight of your glistening wet entrance. 

“So tight it's marvelous…this small hole always makes me forget about everything bad”. He smacks a kiss on your clit, before pulling away for a tiny second to enjoy the view. You let out a strangled moan as you feel him sinking all of his long, girth shaft deep into your poor cunt without warning, burying himself ball-deep inside of you. You suddenly felt filled to the hilt, his tip up to your cervix, with a mix of pain and pleasure “Mh.. damn…so warm and tight…feels like home” an animalistic, throaty groan  escape his lips,as he senses your helpless whimpers. He leans down to your ear, his hands gently caressing your back “I know darling, it's a lot to take… but I need it so badly…I need you to take every inch of me, like a good girl, to let me fuck your tight hole senless tonight…Will you do that for me, my love?” His words fueled your moans and you bury your face in the expensive decor pillow. You were more than willing to give your husband whatever he needed, even if that meant you wouldn't be able to walk for the soreness the next day, as it usually happened…in that last moment of lucidity, you took a mental note to remember where you put painkillers last time, just in case… 

His sudden movement snapped you out of your reverie: your hands instinctively held onto the rough fabric under you for dear life, to avoid being pushed forward to the other corner of the couch under the force of his first, powerful thrust. He soon started moving,setting a merciless, hammering peace. Nanami’s minds was lost in the feeling of the moment he longed for all day, his hard dick finally able to sneak into the warmth of your gummy walls’embtace: he tilted his head back in bliss and his thumbs sank into the small ripples on your lower back, his favourite habit when he fucked you doggy style to keep your waist firmly in place, supporting himself as he pounded into you. He always reduced you in a moaning mess when he fucks you from behind: Your walls started to clench around him relentlessly, as you felt the familiar knot already forming in your stomach.

 His usual low and sensual groans were replaced by animalistic grunts and the tale of his torturing day without you: “Work is shit…ngh, fuck…sitting for hour at a goddman desk suroounded by shallow people…damn, honey you’re milking my cock soo good...Phil, that dickhead, ruined our meeting today…the boss had to say the same things over and…fuckyesjustlikethat, over and…ngh, it lasted more than an hour…oh, my cock was already so hard for you..Having you like this was all I needed” Nanami leaned down on you once again and placed a kiss on your spine, the softwess of it contrasting with the ruthlessness of his pace. That night he surprised you with the display of his unusual talkative side right in the middle of sex. He groaned loudly while he kept on complaining about his day at the office, finally answering the long-forgotten question you asked him as he entered the door: “and the customers…damn a bunch of people wasting their time and money over investments they don't even understand…ngh…hafta explain…oh fuck…the same old shit a hundred fucmking times…oh yeah baby, take it just like that…tell me how much you want it” you let out a desperate gasp as he adjusted his angle, finding and hitting- or better- bruising your g-spot over and over again with his thick,swollen tip. Your walls fluttered around him, your helpless muffled cries fueling adrenaline straight to the core of his ego, boosting his stamina.

“S’too much, Kentoooo” you stammered in a ridiculously pitched voice, as his thrusts became  faster and erratic. One of his large hands reached for your clit, now aching for attention, and started drawing small circles in synch with his thrusts, making your eyes roll in pleasure as he sent you over the edge with a loud moan.

“I know, sweetheart…I know…just a little more, a little longer…let go for me…I'm almost there,too…do it…mhm… for me…  my pretty wife taking me..nghg so well is the best reward after a day like this” he shushed you, a wicked smirk appeared his face, as he knew too well ge just told a white lie to you: he was far from satisfied with your encounter, he didn't plan to slow down anytime soon, not before he fucked you dumb to the point you forgot your own name…  

You came down from your first -of a long series-  high of the night, but his rhythm didn't slow down, instead, he kept on smashing his waist into your sensitive cunt, supporting your trembling legs, now feeling like jelly under his touch. 

You let out a surprised moan and turned your face to him with a pathetic, questioning look. In response, he resumed expressing his doleances through gritted teeth, the wet, slippery, filthy sound of your bodies collapsing together filling your living room… he named people, contracts, companies…but simply you weren’t listening anymore: the strength of your first orgasm left your brain hazed and your pussy -oh so sensitive … yet, he didn't seem like having any mercy for your poor body …you could feel he wasn't even nearly close to cumming, his thrusts still powerful and controlled. In the end, physical endurance has always been one of your husband’s strongest points… you knew too well he could go on like that for hours, stretching your poor little hole on and on for different rounds, in every angle and position.

Ironically, at a certain point Kento asked for your opinion on a matter you couldn't even understand in between crazily pleasurable thrusts “... Dumb mistake of him, isn't it, honey? Everybody knows the interest rate is destined to rise, nowadays” 

Your eyes fluttered open in shock: Was he really expecting you to answer?… how could he think you would have been able to form coherent phrases with his fat, dripping cock pistoning in and out your sensitive,abused cunt? Overstimulation was hitting so hard to have you tripping over your words,preventing your dumb-fucked brain from even understanding the meaning of a word he spoke. “T-t-the rate is…ahhh, Kentooo…High… oh-oh…”  You came again, harder this time,your inner walls massaging his dick perfectly. He cherished making a mess out of his usually neat and composed wife: a copious mix of your juices and his precum pouring out of your stretched hole and staining the refined leather under your butt… the sight of  saliva drooling out your parted lips and your watery eyes as he grabbed your hair,pulling them towards him to tilt your head backwards, meeting his proud gaze…

”that’s my beautiful wife, you look so beautiful when I fuck you like this,honey” he would have bought a hundred new expensive sofas in that moment, he would have spent all of his money on those, just to see you bent on your tiptoes, weak legs trembling for him while he fucked up your brain every night…

You felt your third orgasm shaking your whole body, a tingly feeling growing stronger and stronger inside your gut until you felt like exploding. You had to gather all of your stray lucidity to ask in between ragged breaths, in a shaking, pleading tone “Kento, honey, are you close now?”

He growled raspily in response: “Yes baby…  so close now…mngh… you’re milking me so well…about to take every drop of me “ he caressed your reddened cheeks, smirking at the sight of his big five-fingered imprint on the delicate skin.

 You were about to sigh in relief, you couldn't take his loving anymore…but your eyes fluttered open as he continued in his usual deep, soothing voice: “ …oh don't worry,my love…You know Imma give you some time to rest after…ohhh fuck yes, Just like that…want my pretty wife to get ready for second round…fuck…I’m so damn close….yes…oh…you feel like heaven…YESSS” with a final throaty grunt he finally released his thick loads of cum deep down your pussy…but his hunger for you wasn't fulfilled yet: you could feel his cock already hardening against your used-up, restless walls… in that moment you knew you wouldn't have been able to even get out of bed tomorrow…oh but it was worth every second of it!;)

Thank you if you've come this far!🙏🏼

[just-some-user-hunny]

Vampire hunter D and Hellsing Alucard fighting over the same darling

I'm going to have to take some creative liberties and ignore some canon material for this to somewhat work, due to the difference in vampire rules and whatnot in each respective lore and world-building, but this idea was too fun to pass on. I think a dynamic between the two would be so entertaining- seeing as they are both Eldrich horrors in their own respect, yet so different. both are complex characters with many layers to them, so I hope I gave them justice with this.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading! . ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Their rivalry is inevitable. D has sworn to spend the rest of his days slaughtering the undead- and Alucard is possibly the strongest of his prey as of yet. They are alike, but not- two of a kind, who share the same shadow and bloodlust.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Alucard is both immensely curious and irked by the vampire hunters existence. A being that is not dead, nor alive. A creature born from both the undead and living. A dhampir.

D is something of a worldly curiosity to him- how can such a thing exist? Throughout all of Alucard's un-life has he witnessed such a being. It both fills him with awe, and unrest.

The complexity has even himself spiraling into an unrestful haze- because finally. A rival. A true rival. A being that has the redeeming quality of a semblance of humanity. He can see right through the dhampir- that sorrow and loneliness and regret is so human. So raw, and unabashedly hidden with shame. What a solemn moping creature D is... Interesting.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ D is troubled by the vampire king. A monster whom resembles the likeness of Dracula- a twisted shadow of his own father, a being from another timeline, who mocks him with his mere existence. Just being in the same vicinity as him makes his blood boil and stomach churn in disgust. Knowing that this violent blood hungering beast is yearning for you makes him sick. The implications that if he fails, and you fall into the monster's claws, that another dhampir may possibly be brought into its wretched existence is simply something he cannot allow.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ The two clash in every possible way- yet align in every possible way. Like a dark twisted duet. Like a shadow clashing with a shadow. It shouldn't be. Two beings having met behind the veil- a veil that should have never been pieced. They glare at one another in the shadows of your footsteps, constantly watching with bated breath.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧The dynamic of being caught between the crossfire of the two horrors beyond the veil is a restless nightmare- yet an enveloping dream. It doesn't feel...real. To be yearned over by these two men monsters is an enigma of itself, and you've inevitably become the taut rope between an endless tug of war. Back and fourth, back and fourth, neither breaking sweat nor losing their footing. Clashing blades, explosive bullets, the silver of guns and swords glinting in the moonlight. Spilt blood, open wounds, unrestrained ferocity. There is no hunter or prey in this dynamic- their very strength teeters on the edge of a blade-steady yet, wavering. All that is established is that they have both set their claim. And neither are willing to give up.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Their motives are simple, yet complex like entangled string. Red and black thread ensnaring you till you are but a meager little morsel struggling in the spiders web. D wants to eradicate Alucard- rid the earth of his bloodied existence. The very personification of self-preservation and fear of death taken in the form of something bloody and full of hunger has no right to belong in this world. It should be laid to rest.

You, poor little human, are an unexpected obstacle of both himself- and his prey. You're the flesh caged in the bear trap- the butterfly in the web, the pretty patisserie cake on a porcelain platter. He's the jarring metal teeth, the descending spider, the glinting cutlery.

He's a parasite who attached itself to an unsuspecting human- who has no say in the matter. Either you love him, endure him, or despise him, it doesn't matter. He's sunk his teeth into you and won't let go- always in your shadow.

D is a hunter. That's all he has left for himself. He can at least do this favour for both himself, and you. If you call for Alucard's name, it is not enough to deter him. You don't know any better, you can't. You don't know the extent of this horror. You never shall. Never should.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Alucard is frustratingly simple- yet simply complicated. You are a human who's ensnared his interest- his curiosity and fascination. He wants you, all of you. Your voice...your breath...the smell of your skin...your thoughts and dreams and fears. He wants all of it. He's selfish and hungry, and you are the soothing balm to his wounds. He admits he's a monster- a monster that can only hunger and obsess, he has no shame in that. He accepted he's irredeemable long ago- an attack dog, a weapon, something to command and leash for the sake of numbing the boredom and insanity of everlasting existence. He needs motive. Reasoning. Distraction. And you are the best distraction he could ask for.

He's caught in the swing of finding this hunter's endeavours amusing and annoying.

Leave him be, let him enjoy this last thing. Then he may have his spill of blood.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Regardless of the madness- it can come in useful for your own sake of survival. You'll never have to worry about being harmed whilst under the watchful eyes of not only Alucard, the no life king, but the Dhampir hunter, D. It is the one thing that they can seem to agree and find truce over. They are content to slaughter the vile beasts that dare to think they can harm a hair on your head, casting aside their rivalry to kill together. Their protection is priceless in a world filled with danger- not even the wealthiest of people could pay a price to ensure such safety.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ those dynamic is full of banter and jeering- Alucard most often the initiator. How can he help himself? This enigma of a being is so ripe and ready for the teasing and prodding. Something that is half monster, half human... It shouldn't be. An abomination as much as himself. Although he shares his hatred through his own twisted morals, the hatred towards lowly vampires who do not abide by nature and kill monstrously with no goal or end- that disgusts him. His respect for the hunter draws a fine line between mutual respect- and despair for his existence.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ "You're disgusted with yourself? As you should be. All creatures of the night deserve nothing. Useless beasts"

"You realise you speak of yourself, Nosferatu"

"How witty of you to clue on. You should know better, do you feel the weight of existence? Isn't it crushing? Yes...it is, isn't it..."

"..."

"For someone who is half human, you are certainly as silent as the dead-"

"Enough."

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ D is... Often wavering with his control around you. Beyond the soft nonchalant veil that he drapes himself with, internally he often finds himself holding back his insatiable bloodlust. You'd probably never guess- by how tamed and calm he is, through both his slow methodic actions and lulling voice- but every part of him is yearning to taste you.

He's not proud of it- ashamed, is the best way to describe it. It's something he's intent on you never discovering- lest you fear him, God forbid. Pain and fear are things he never wants to stir in you from his own doing. He's not the monster who hides under your bed- not the frightening creature who lurks in shadow, hunting for blood. He's more than that, he likes to believe. There's a part of him that regains precious humanity.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Alucard however isn't a creature who can be swayed easily with the scent of blood- his experience and self control has far surpassed his mindless animalistic bloodlust. Despite the way that he is, He's not one to become lost in a mindless haze- eager to snatch you up and shake you around with your throat in his jaws like he was some depraved starving animal. Although the scent or sight of your blood does utter some excitement out of him, he's never one to act upon it. He'll simply stare at you knowingly, smiling softly and offering to bandage wherever you are hurting. he'll be more than happy to lick the wound.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ You can imagine the taunting this no-life king has in store for the vampire hunter, watching with smug amusement as this halfling struggles to keep his drool in his mouth just from the mere scent of you. It’s adorable. Pathetic.

He loves taunting the hunter- playing with you like a cat pawing gently at a mouse, to see what kind of reaction he can summon out of this nonchalant creature. His lack of response always irks the vampire, so watching him grow annoyed and angry just for merely being too close to you? Oh it’s bliss.

Alucard loves to stray closer- closer and closer, pushing his luck, all under the watchful eye of the hunter. He’s more keen to touch and caress you like this- like a lion with a lamb, towering over you frightfully as you stand there sweetly and innocently in his claws. As if he were playing with his food. Rest assured you'll never be his food, but that shouldn't damper his fun regarding toying with the naive hunter.

You’ll become surely equated with the Eldritch horror of a man swallowing you up in his shadow- standing closer than necessary. Your back practically flushed against his torso, as large gloved hands gently pet and caress you like you were some pretty little thing to fawn over. It doesn’t matter how you react. Either you tremble and swallow anxiously as your throat is swallowed up his palm- his fingertip dragging softly over the skin to trace the hollow in your throat, unsure and confused- or you may simply stand still and allow your loyal hound of a vampire preen and coo over you with patient endurance. It’s not your response Alucard is after, although it doesn’t hurt to enjoy it, but D’s.

He wants his anger.

His jealousy.

His envy.

For D, the sight of your delicate neck in the hands of Alucard is something that never fails to make his stomach lurch in fury. He’ll glare wordlessly at the vampire mutt- his own blood red eyes simmering like boiling viscera as he clutches his own aching throat.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ I know very well how tempting they he’ll say with his eyes, the deep pleased hum rumbling in his chest like a content beast as he tenderly strokes the delicate skin above your artery. Feeling it pump quickly beneath his fingertips, as his eyes glint with amusement at the dhampir’s simmering anger.

See how I can be so near, so close to touch them whilst you salivate and struggle like a starving dog. A dog. That’s what you are.

D could rip him a new one if you weren’t so in the line of fire.

God, this guy's one smug asshole huh D.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ That is not to say that Alucard is the only petty one, because D is just as bad. he can be worse.

It is not unusual for the Dhampir to snatch you away and keep you tucked safely beneath the shelter of his cape- keeping you swallowed up in billowing fabric, nestling you close to his side or ribcage. Silently-softly- he’ll extend his arm out welcomingly, draping his cape open for you to hide if you so please. Please. It is the safest place for you in his eyes, swaddled safely from sight nor scent- with you so swallowed up in his clothes and stature, your pretty scent is masked with his. Practically bathing you in it. All you can do is keep up with his strides as his hand settles securely upon your shoulder, keeping you tucked into his side whenever you walk together.

Look D, as much as I like seeing this assholes face prune up, I'd like our body to stay intact. Hey, are you even listening?

So you can image the irk and seething jealousy that burns like hellfire in Alucards vermillion glare as D unveils you to the vampire king- your form nestled close to him, wrapped up in the safe recluse of the dhampir’s cape. That halfling abomination has rubbed off all your scent and his.

The nerve.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ It's safe to say that they both become clingy in their efforts to claim possession of you no matter how much D refuses the concept of possessing you, they both know deep inside that's what he yearns for with his lonely dead heart.

So be prepared to be clung to by these two towering children of the night. Alucard pressing himself to you like a touch starved dog, possessive and enveloping. His gloved hands resting upon your shoulders or idly stroking your head/jaw/neck. If not in your shadow, he's by your heel- the tip of his own polished shoes brushing against your heel.

He does it so unnaturally fitting. His large hand curling around your jaw, tilting your head up to wipe something off your face. He could so easily crush you, but that thought never comes to fruition in his mind. or he may drape his arm over your shoulder, his gun bracing against your chest like a makeshift shield. (Or perhaps a little empty threat to make your heart skip a little in your chest). He loves how much it winds the Dhampir up.

"Get that thing off her, if you know what's good for you."

"I don't, you see"

"Off."

"What's wrong? You surely don't think I'd hurt her to you? She's my dear little human, Dhampir. Mine"

"She's not yours, or anyone's."

"Is that so."

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ Both are eager to claim the spot to reside in your shadow- both literally and metaphorically. They share the same inevitable fate of losing you to time- so they are insatiably eager to take their fill of life from you. To have the pleasure of watching you grow old and silver, front row seats of your existence- if you will. It is unspoken, the sorrow. It’s a lengthy pause that’ll always settle between them; both fully aware, but not strong enough to say it out loud. It all but makes it too real. Alucard is full of pretty poetry when it comes to the concept of losing you- always grinning and wistfully lamenting how full and easy he’d make life for you, but internally there’s a pit of anger and sorrow inside him that’s festers like rotting fruit. Sweet and syrupy, but spoiled and repulsive. These emotions only come to surface through silent lingering glances of softened expressions, which always throw you off. They’re quiet and contemplate, and for once you don’t feel like a yummy morsel under his watch. You’re something to be mourned and cherished. This deep sadness that dwells hidden in his garnet hued irises.

.‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ D is just as in much sorrow, and that is something that the two creatures of night can fall into agreement with. Immortality is a curse, not something one should wish to possess.

D does not keen to dwell too deeply into the concept of your demise- no matter how peaceful it’ll be. Every smile-line and pretty wrinkle upon your face serves as a reminder to him. He will forever remain porcelain- his hair will remain deep mahogany, whilst you turn silver and frail. Reminding him of how fragile you are- how privileged you are. Still- he is silent with his emotions. Like carved marble set into a beautiful and gaunt expression, never will he show anger or jealousy. He cannot bring himself to bear it.

As long as you are safe and cherished, that is all he can wish for.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ their fight for claim can go on and on, scrabbling for a secure footing in the game they've been began- with no means to an end to finish. They are both strong, no matter how endurable D is- nor how many levels of his own power that Alucard unleashes, there's always a standstill. D could be near shredded ribbons of flesh and fabric, but he'll still stand. Alucard could be standing tall in his armour from his days of impaling and bloody reign, and he'd still be toe to toe with the Dhampir. It's infuriating for the both of them. There must be only one victor, one to take their stead in the shadow of your existence. But it's never ending.

This isn't about simple rivalry anymore. It's a neverending duel between themselves, eager to win or die. Death would be a privilege if not for your own place in the matter. They can't die yet, not whilst you are still breathing.

. ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ you'll be caught in the crossfire of possession and duty, desire and a twisted version of love. It is for you to bear witness to, So don't look away.

[mulloey]

restraint • seonghwa

you embarrass seonghwa in front of his colleagues.

tags: hard dom!seonghwa, sub!reader. professor seonghwa. this is quite intense. specific warnings below.

word count: 8.3k

warnings: punishment, pet play, humiliation, impact play, mean angry dom!seonghwa, scolding, praise, heavy degradation, mild piss play (reader pisses on the floor), deep throating, gagging, fingering, choking, safeword mention, begging, fucking, sir kink, mild cum play, bdsm dynamics. this is a little gross sorry. the sections with piss are marked so they can be avoided without taking away from the fic.

DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ. HATE IS DELETED AND BLOCKED.

—————

You should be at home right now. On a Friday night at 7PM, you should be falling asleep on the couch while waiting for your boyfriend to serve dinner. Or curled up next to him, one hand in his hair while you watch TV. Or kissing him. Or touching him. Or…anything. Anything but this.

But here you are, in a strapless dress and painful black heels, silently observing the laughing gaggle of your boyfriend’s colleagues, dressed to impress for another very important, cannot-be-missed-under-any-circumstances work event.

Your boyfriend, Seonghwa, is on the other side of the room, talking to some girl from his work with a little too much enthusiasm for your liking. Not that you're worried that he’d cheat on you, no, Seonghwa is the single most loyal person you’ve met, and he reminds you of how much he loves you every single day. It’s just that you're not ignorant to how goddamn attractive he is. You're not ignorant to the undeniable fact that wherever they go, there'll be about 15 girls and a couple of guys who would take your place by his side in an instant. You see it in their eyes. See it in the eyes of the girl he’s talking to now.

You don't blame her. He’s easy to fall for, with his soft hands and loud laugh and impossibly brown eyes. And that, of course, is just at first sight. The layered, complex man underneath that perfect exterior is more than enough to rival his more superficial appeals.

The pristine Professor Park, the picture of class, intellect, and pretty much every positive adjective you could possibly think of. Always impeccably dressed, never without a quote from a novel or paper or film, always knowing what to say and how to say it. Just completely and utterly perfect.

And, rumour has it, nothing less than an animal in the bedroom. You both know the tales that are told of him across campus - tales of hickeys hidden beneath turtlenecks, strange noises and suspicious silences from behind the locked door of his office, and of course his insistence that if a certain someone calls his office, no one, under any circumstances, is to ask if they can take a message. That rule, and the incident that had spawned it (and spawned a whole lot more in the privacy of your bedroom), is more than enough to paint a picture of what you definitely heard a student refer to as a ‘love-making beast’.

You swallow a laugh at the thought. If only they knew. If only they fucking knew.

The girl he’s talking to certainly seems keen on finding out. You watch her closely, following her eyes as she looks the man up and down.

Seonghwa says something and the girl giggles, twirling a strand of brown hair round your finger with nothing but heart eyes for the man before her. If Seonghwa is aware of what she’s doing, he doesn’t show it. He just listens to her as she speaks, her soft, admittedly almost velvety voice only just heard above the clash of music and chatter. But he looks slightly bored, which brings you some comfort at least. You catch his eye when he turns away briefly and he frowns at your expression. He excuses himself from his companion and strolling over to you, looking concerned.

“Baby,” he murmurs into your hair, snaking an arm around your waist. “You’re annoyed.”

You relax into his touch, closing your eyes for a second before turning to meet his gaze. You swallow. Even now, as his eyes stare into yours, full of love and concern, his stare is somehow intimidating. Everything about him is, even in his softest moments; the way he moves, the way he speaks, the way he touches you is all power and control and dominance, a constant reminder of exactly who’s in charge, exactly who owns you.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks softly.

“Nothing,” you say all too quickly.

He raises an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

“Well. You.”

“Me,” he says with a hum. “What about me?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You flinch at the coldness in your voice, a coldness that clearly doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who stares at you in confusion. You soften slightly, words quiet and as gentle as you can get them right now. “I’m going to get a drink. I just… sorry.”

Seonghwa nods, and, clearly trying to figure out what’s got you so irritated, grabs your arm as you turn to leave, immobilising you.

“Baby,” he says, voice low. “Watch it.”

Then he releases you, shoves you into the crowd and you gulp, ignoring the fire his words had started in your stomach as you weave through the guests crowding the living room. The smell of alcohol is all around you as you approach the kitchen, but right now you're intoxicated on something else entirely. His words echo in your head, emboldened by the dangerous tone with which they’d been spoken and you can’t make yourself think of anything else.

Just three words. Three little words, and you're dizzy. He knows the effect he has on you. Practically feeds off of it.

When you return to the living room, clutching the two bottles of beer you’d retrieved for your and your perfect boyfriend, the girl from before is back next to him. This time, her hand is around his waist.

Your resolve snaps, vision clouded as you, barely aware of yourself, drop the beers to the floor and stride towards the two.

“What the fuck is this?” You seethe, trying and failing to keep your voice at a whisper — by now, the party has all but stopped to watch the much more interesting show unfolding.

Seonghwa mutters your name, tone warning. “Don’t,” he says but you barely hear him, your focus on the woman who has quickly distanced herself from him, face pink.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. “I didn’t know he—”

“Yeah?” You laugh. “Well you do now. Go whore yourself out to another one of your seniors.”

You hear gasps echo around the room, but no one looks more surprised — or angry — than Seonghwa.

You mumble an apology and retreat to the kitchen, more embarrassed than you’ve ever been in your life. You can’t believe you stood and berated someone over a man like you’re a fucking teenager.

You hear the kitchen door open then close and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“What the fuck was that?” Seonghwa hisses.

“Baby, I—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he snaps. You flinch, caught off guard by his tone and he seems to soften slightly at your surprise, but the anger on his face remains.

“You—” you start, but he cuts you off as if he hasn’t even heard you.

“Explain,” he says. “Now.”

“Seonghwa, please-”

“Now,” he repeats, nearing a yell. “I mean it. You won’t like what happens if you don’t.”

“She was touching you, Seonghwa,” you whine. you reach for his face but he gently slaps your hand away.

“I know she was,” Seonghwa says. “And I was going to deal with that. Until you decided that it was your responsibility, your right, to try and discipline my colleagues.”

“I—”

“No,” he says. “Go and get your coat, we’re going home.”

You nod, mumbling another apology before walking to the cloak room. You sit in there for a few minutes, trying to calm down, and give Seonghwa the chance to do the same, before you walk back to where he is. But when you see him he’s barely moved, and his expression is, dangerously, still the same.

“Are you really angry at me?” You ask softly. You know you’ve fucked up but you’d thought he’d have calmed down enough to not be overly angry. But apparently not.

“Yes,” he says, apparently electing not to sugarcoat the severity of the situation. Not that you were expecting him to; Seonghwa has always been upfront like that, seeing no point in lying to soften the blow. You’ve fucked up and he’s not going to waste time pretending that you haven’t.

He helps you put your coat on, still gentlemanly (for now) but briefly grabs the back of your neck as you fasten it. He stares at you for a second, expression blank before he releases his grip with a scoff.

“I don’t want to fight when we get home,” you say softly.

“We’re not going to fight,” Seonghwa responds.

You blink, caught off guard by his statement. Based on his reaction, you were certain this was going to end in a screaming match. Hopefully one that ends with the best sex you’ve had in weeks, but you don't want to risk the off chance that the night will instead end at a friend’s house if things get messy.

“We’re not?”

“No.” Frowning, Seonghwa turns back to face you. “I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

—————

The drive home is silent, Seonghwa clearly too irritated to do anything but focus on the road and you too afraid to speak lest you make it worse for yourself, but the tension between the two, and the lingering threat of whatever the hell Seonghwa has planned for you when you get home, is louder than anything either of you could say. It’s everywhere; in his body language, written on his face and in the intensity of the gaze that he never moves from the road. It’s in the way his hand grips your thigh, normally gentle touches suddenly rough, hard, a vessel through which he channels the anger that cannot wait until you get home to be released.

What’s he going to do today? At the party he’d promised punishment, but that could mean any number of things. you try to recall the previous punishments you’ve faced at his hands, browsing through memories to try and figure out which one he might choose today. That’s if you're lucky (or unlucky) enough to receive only one.

He’s fucked your mouth a few times, but once he caught onto how much you enjoyed it it became a less frequent punishment. Humiliation is common - you shudder at the memory of his smug smile as you’d walked around the rooftop garden of your shared apartment, completely naked save for the collar you wore only when he felt you needed reminding of who you belonged to. Or when he’d suddenly revoked furniture privileges, demanding you kneel on the floor as he ate, watched TV, slept. A shudder runs down your spine at the thought, but as you consider it more you realise that Seonghwa is most likely too angry to choose something like that today. That’s for when you've been teasing him, toying with him, for when the punishment is as much a form of fun as it is discipline. But today, you can tell you’ve pushed him beyond that. He’s properly, dangerously angry, and he needs release. He needs to show you who’s in charge, and exactly what happens when you disobey him.

What the fuck is he going to do to you?

Looking back out the window, you realise you’re pulling into your street, and as the car starts to slow you feel your heart begin to race in anticipation, the sound of it echoing in your skull with a similar intensity to the fear that fills your body when the car stops and Seonghwa turns off the engine.

“Get out,” he says, leaving no room for conversation or argument.

You huff but comply, dragging yourself towards your building and up the steps. Your steps are small and slow, an attempt to delay the punishment that surely awaits, but your plan doesn’t escape Seonghwa and he shoves you towards the door with a low chuckle.

“Not gonna work, baby. Faster.”

You curse every God that could possibly exist when you see the elevator is already waiting for you, as if Seonghwa had somehow called ahead to ensure that every effort would be made to speed up your punishment. Seonghwa says nothing as you step in and press the button of your floor, and though you dread the thought of what’s going through his head, you almost wish he would say something. Just so you could get an idea of how angry he is.

As if he’d read your mind, he speaks. “Just so you know,” he says, and the tone alone tells you more than enough, “If I were less opposed to the idea of being arrested, I’d belt your ass black and blue right here in this elevator.”

Your jaw drops. “Oh.” Belting is rare. He’s done it a few times, of course, but it’s generally reserved for your very worst behaviour. Surely you haven't been that bad tonight. Have you?

“But I’m not going to belt you tonight,” he says, placing a hand on your lower back as you exit the elevator. “Unless you decide to be even more of a brat. It’s just that what I have planned would be… well, as disgusting as I am, doing that in an elevator is a line I still won’t cross.”

Okay, he definitely has some sick shit planned for you. Probably something illegal.

Your heart quickens as you turn the corner, bringing your apartment into view. You feel Seonghwa tense next to you as you walk and turn your head, quickly sneaking a look at his face. Fuck. You know that look. Eyes dark and scheming. Lips curled into a small smile. Eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. This is not Seonghwa, your sweet, caring boyfriend who makes you breakfast in bed and looks at you like you have the world in your eyes. This is Seonghwa, your dominant, whose every move oozes power and control, who uses and abuses you however, whenever he wants.

Who can do anything he wants to you and knows it.

You are so fucked.

————

“Look at this.”

His words are soft, arousal filled as he takes in the sight before him. And what a sight it must be.

You stand in the middle of the living room, sleek black collar the only thing covering your otherwise naked body. The word carved into the inside is an ever-present and all too familiar feeling on your neck. The burn of humiliation as you’d watched Seonghwa put it on you, pausing to point out the engraving, still lingers within you as it presses into your tender skin. Slut.

You’re cold and uncomfortable and you feel completely humiliated. Seonghwa, on the other hand, appears entirely at bliss, lounging comfortably on the couch and sipping a glass of red wine as his eyes roam your naked body. Despite you being too nervous, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, you feel his eyes on you, examining you as though you were a priceless work of art rather than the girl he’d stripped and abandoned in the middle of his living room.

Your hands are raised above your head, at his orders of course, making it impossible for you to cover your breasts, to cover the nipples that have hardened as a result of the air conditioning, which you have no doubt he had turned up to full on purpose.

Seonghwa takes another sip of his wine, a small smile on his face, then speaks. “Enjoying yourself?”

You huffs. “You know I’m not, Seonghwa.”

Forgetting yourself, you almost slap your hand across your mouth. What the fuck did you just say? That’s not his fucking name.

“What was that?” He asks coolly.

“I’m sorry, sir, I meant sir, I promise.” You start to trip over your words in your panic, but Seonghwa gets the message.

“Much better. I’m really not in the mood to put you over my knee tonight, my dear, as much as I think you expected me to.”

You almost miss the smile that flickers across his face at your reaction. You’re so transparent.

The smile disappears, replaced with the straight, unreadable expression from before. “You do know why you’re being punished, don’t you?” He asks.

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Tell me,” he says, leaning forwards in his seat. “Tell me what you did.”

“I insulted that girl,” you say. “And I embarrassed you in front of everyone.”

He shakes his head, unsatisfied. “Not just a girl. A colleague. A new colleague. Are you trying to tarnish my reputation?”

“What?” You say before you can stop yourself. Seonghwa raises an eyebrow. You correct yourself. “No, sir, of course not.”

“Yet there you were,” he says. “Humiliating me in front of my colleagues, disobeying my orders in public while they look on. Where are your manners, pet?”

You bite your lip, almost whining at the mention of that nickname. Dirty move.

“I’m sorry, sir. I was annoyed.”

“You made a fool out of me,” Seonghwa says. “As your boyfriend, and as your dominant.”

You hang your head, ashamed. Now that your head is clearer you feel his words even deeper. He’s right. Seonghwa has never cared for others' opinions on your relationship. It’s only his professional reputation — the thing that puts food on the table and keeps the cupboard stuffed with toys — that he cares about. And you should have known better than to risk it like that.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“I know you are,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to punish you. You know I do, sweetheart. It’s how you learn.”

There's no anger in his voice now. Just disappointment. And you fucking hate it. Hate it when you let him down, hate the sadness in his eyes when he watches your misbehave, watches you ignore his rules and lessons and guidance, everything he’d created for your benefit, your protection, you. Everything you so easily disregarded for the sake of a jealous rant. Fuck. You’ve fucked up.

A twinge of guilt pulls at you and you nod demurely. If you’ve ever deserved to be punished, you deserve it now.

“I understand, sir.”

“There we are,” he smiles. “It’s so much easier when you behave, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nods, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Keep this obedience up and it’ll be a lot better for you.”

He leans back, keeping his eyes on you as you stand there. After a few minutes confusion overtakes you and you shyly speak.

“Sir, are we— are you going to make me do anything else?” You ask, still baffled by the mildness of the punishment.

“That depends on your behaviour,” Seonghwa responds. “If you decide to be good, there'll be no more punishment. If not…” he pauses, leans back in his seat without shifting his gaze from you. He reaches for his belt, finger tracing the black leather. His hand twitches as it crosses the buckle and the slight smile on his face suggests that the memories of the belt impacting your ass are just as present in his mind as they are in yours. “This is still on the table.”

“Oh,” you say.

He stares for a moment then smiles, tilting his head almost cutely. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Huh?” You frown, confused. You’re not sure what exactly you’re supposed to be getting, so you guess he’s right. Whatever ‘it’ is, you don’t get it.

He laughs slightly, shaking his head like you’re missing something obvious. “No matter, then,” he says, “just stay like this. No moving.”

You nod and do as he says, wanting to be good now. Seconds stretch into minutes which pass by like hours, but still nothing happens. You stand in position and Seonghwa watches you, slowly making his way through a glass of wine that you too could really use right now. His gaze is sharp but not particularly interested, more like he’s monitoring you than watching you. Which you guess is accurate; in a way that’s what he’s doing, monitoring you and your punishment, looking for any signs of you faltering or disobeying, or more importantly, for any signs that you’re reaching your limit. But you’re not reaching your limit. You’re not doing anything.

Eventually Seonghwa gets bored and, apparently, is satisfied that you’re being obedient enough for him to pick up a book next to him. You recognise it as one he’s mentioned wanting to start; something Greek, you think. You watch as he reads; his brows are furrowed slightly as the small amount of alcohol he’s consumed has made it slightly harder to focus. After a while you feel the familiar feeling of discomfort and shyly speak up. “Sir?”

Seonghwa hums, not lifting his gaze from his book.

“I— I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Then go,” he says, still not looking up.

Brevity is the soul of wit, they say. You linger for a second, unsure of yourself, then start to walk. You barely make it two steps before Seonghwa’s voice stops you in your tracks.

“Who told you to move?”

‘What?’ you think. Of course you’re going to move. How else are you supposed to— oh. Oh. The realisation of what he’s suggesting, commanding, almost knocks you off your feet. Holy shit. “Sir, I don’t— are you kidding?” you splutter.

Seonghwa says nothing, the words does it look like I’m fucking kidding? written across his blank face. Bastard.

“You’ve lost the privilege of using the facilities of this house.” He says it so seriously, so formally that he seems like a businessman closing a deal rather than a man directing his girlfriend to piss on the living room floor.

You have no idea what to say, what to think, how to react to his request— no, not request. Seonghwa doesn’t make requests. This is nothing less than an order. “Sir, I—”

“That privilege,” he continues, “is for good girls. And you have not been good. So you can piss on the floor like a dog.”

You baulk. Holy shit. He’s actually serious. That… is beyond anything you’ve ever done. Or discussed. Is he actually going to make you do this? Do you even want this? Sure, you love when he treats you like an animal, when he humiliates and degrades you until the only thing on your mind is being fucked, but this is something else. You can’t do this. Can you?

“If you’re not comfortable,” Seonghwa says, “You can safeword. I won’t be angry. But I don’t think you want to, do you?”

Fuck. The safeword hadn’t even crossed your mind. You’re unsure about this, of course you are — it’s new and unclear and beyond anything you’ve ever even considered — but the idea of using your safeword, of ending all this, never seeing where it would go, what would happen, had never even occurred to you. Maybe you do want this. To piss on the floor while Seonghwa watches, to feel the burn of humiliation that he’s made sure is painfully familiar. To feel like the animal you become only for him. Because of him.

You speak quietly, voice barely a whisper, and the words send a rush of humiliation down your spine.

“I don’t, sir.”

Seonghwa smiles. “Good girl.” He leans back in his chair, eyes never leaving your reddening face. The book is closed on his lap now, and he takes a small sip of his wine as he waits for you to begin.

You have no idea what to do. Well, you know what you have to do, you have to piss on the floor while your boyfriend watches, but how do you… do you just start? Do you just stand there and piss?

He watches you silently, blank face a contrast to impatient eyes and you shift uncomfortably beneath his gaze. You wouldn’t dare ask him to turn away while you does it — it would kind of defeat the point, anyway, and you don’t want to know how he’d react to you resisting punishment — but the knowledge that Seonghwa — tall, strong, domineering Seonghwa who’d been the apple of so many eyes at the party — is about to watch your piss on the floor, ass naked, like some sort of animal, does nothing for your pride. Not that Seonghwa allows you much of it, anyway.

“I’m not a patient man, you know,” he says. “So I’d advise you to hurry up.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry, it’s just— how can we— how will we even clean it up?” You splutter, unable to select just one of the millions of questions burning in your mind.

“That is none of your concern,” Seonghwa answers with a smile. “All you have to do is be a good little girl and piss on the floor like you’ve been told to.”

You nod but don’t move, still not quite able to force yourself to do it.

“Don’t act like this is beneath you,” Seonghwa says. “I know you. I know you’re just a dog built for the sole purpose of taking my dick, and it’s about time I treated you like one. So piss on the fucking floor before I think of another way to punish you.”

Shit. Okay. You can do this. you just have to— fuck...

“Whatever’s making you hesitate, let go of it,” Seonghwa says, leaning forward. “You don’t seem to know your place. I do. So let go.”

“Sir,” you whisper.

“Let go,” Seonghwa repeats. “I won’t say it again.”

—

[STARTS HERE]

—

Eventually you manage. You close your eyes, trying to shut out your surroundings and it works. You feel it start, trickling down your legs and you flush crimson. You want to die.

“Look at you,” Seonghwa spits. “You’re filthy.”

“Fuck, Seonghwa, I—”

It keeps going, trickling down your legs and pooling around your feet and it’s disgusting. You feel disgusting. Not to mention how humiliating it is to be ass naked while your boyfriend still has his fucking shoes on.

But that same humiliation twists in your gut, colliding with your arousal and the emotions crash into each other like waves against a rock, eating away at you, wearing you down so slowly you doesn’t realise it until it’s too late and you’re drowning in it and the only thing you want to do is fall to your knees in pure worship.

You cry out, overcome by the millions of sensations that explode in your body and mind like fireworks. Who knew pissing could be so… this?

“Dirty bitch, aren’t you?” Seonghwa says. “Pissing on the floor like a fucking animal.”

“I- fuck, sir- I am.”

“What are you, baby?” Seonghwa asks. “Say it. Tell me what you are.”

“An animal, sir,” you say between gasps. “I’m your animal.”

“That you are. And such a good one, darling. Are we done?”

Unable to form any sound resembling a word, you nod. Seonghwa gives a proud smile and rises from the couch, discarding the glass of wine on the side table. He doesn’t approach you. Just stands there.

“I would come closer,” he says, “but I don’t want to step in your mess.”

You say nothing, just turn your gaze towards the mess he speaks of with such disgust. It’s disgusting, you're aware of that. You both are. It’s disgusting to stare at your own piss on the living room floor while your boyfriend degrades you, and you’ve never felt so humiliated, so embarrassed, so ashamed. But you’s also never been this fucking horny.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” Seonghwa asks, slowly inching towards you. He scoffs. “Stupid dog. Can’t think of anything but getting fucked, can you?”

“Sir,” you almost scream, “Sir, please, fucking hell, please.”

“Please what, darling?” He asks, cocking his head. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t— fuck sir.”

Seonghwa chuckles, amused eyes looking you up and down. “Look at you. I haven’t even touched you and you’re already a fucking mess. Come here.”

You blank for a second while your clouded mind processes his words then move to walk towards him, but you’re stopped in your tracks by Seonghwa’s noise of disapproval. “That won’t do,” he says.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’ve earned the right to walk. Crawl.”

You pussy throbs at the command and you swallow, cheeks flushed as you get down on all fours. In a pool of your own piss. Holy shit.

You go slowly, one hand after the other and you feel absolutely fucking vile. You can’t believe you're doing this and some part of you doesn’t want to believe it, but you can’t bring yourself to give a shit. You’ve never needed your boyfriend, his dick, more in your entire life than you do right now. And based on the dent in Seonghwa’s dress pants as he sits back down on the couch, and the sweat that’s already building on his face, the feeling is mutual.

You crawl to his feet, stilling when he places a firm hand in your hair and pulls your face towards his crotch. “Good girl,” he hums, then lifts your face and pulls it towards him, forcing eye contact. “What a good dog I have.”

“Fuck. Sir,” you whisper.

“I’m here, pup. But you aren’t quite forgiven yet.”

He hands you wet cloth you didn’t know he had, instructing you to dry your hands and you do. “Stand,” he orders.

With shaking legs to stand up and he takes the cloth, using it to run up and down your legs until you’re clean. He scrubs you harshly, until your shins are red and irritated, before he drops the cloth and orders he back down to your knees.

—

[ENDS HERE]

—

“I think you need some reminding of who you belong to,” he says. “Open your mouth.”

Hesitantly you obey him, watching as he pulls his dick out of his pants. Even now, you’re always a little surprised by the size. He doesn’t give you any time to speak, shoving his dick into your mouth without warning. You choke at first, surprised by the intrusion but you quickly get used to it His dick is thick and wet and you devour it; lick it, suck it, gag on it, let Seonghwa force it down your throat over and over until it’s the only thing you feel, the only thing you want, the only thing you can think about. Seonghwa grunts and moans, gives rough praises that you can’t comprehend. He grabs the back of your head, pushing you further down onto his dick and he smiles.

“You don’t really need to breathe, do you?”

He doesn’t give you time to react before he forces himself even further into your throat and it burns, burns in the most delicious fucking way and you love it, love the way he thrusts into your throat with no mercy, no concern for you or your comfort. This is about his pleasure and his only. Right now, you exist solely to serve him, to serve his dick and you fucking love it.

“That’s it,” he groans.

He thrusts into your again and it fucking hurts but the scream you let out is muffled by his dick, drowned out by his loud, pleasured groans.

You rise off your knees, trying to get closer to him, to take more of him in your mouth, but he pushes you back down.

“No fucking moving, dog. Remember your place,” he says. “Remember who’s in charge here.”

You say nothing, paying no attention to his words as you lean forward again and force him down your throat. you don’t care who’s in charge. Don’t care about following his orders or respecting his authority. You need him. All of him.

But instead of giving you what you want, he pushes you off his dick and slaps you across the face.

You gasp at the impact, lifting a hand to your stinging cheek with a moan of pain. Seonghwa gives you a second to recover before he slaps you again, just as hard on the other cheek and you scream.

“Greedy bitch,” he spits. “Are you that fucking desperate?”

“Sir,” you whine, still clutching your stinging cheeks. “Ow, sir, please.”

“Quiet,” he says. “I don’t want another word out of you. All I want you to do is be a good little mutt and suck my dick exactly how I tell you to. Am I clear?”

“But sir, I want—”

He grabs a fistful of hair, pulling your face towards his. “I don’t care,” he says lowly, “what you want. You are nothing to me. Now tell me. Am I clear?”

You say nothing, just give a small whine and Seonghwa’s grip in your hair tightens, a small sneer on his lips.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks mockingly.

You turn away, biting your lip. Seonghwa chuckles, hand still in your hair, and pulls you back to face him. Your tear filled eyes stare into his and he gives a small smile.

“So pretty,” he mumbles. “But so worthless.”

“Sir,” you breathe.

“And so polite,” he praises. “Too little too late, though, unfortunately.”

“I know, sir.”

“I’m sure you do. But it’s too late,” he says, shaking his head. “So here's what’s going to happen.”

You perk up, ready to listen. Seonghwa smiles for a moment, almost fond.

“You’re going to do everything I say,” he says. “When I say it. Starting with this.”

He grabs you again, pulls you towards him with a groan and shoves his dick back into your mouth without warning. You choke, caught off guard and you almost fall back but Seonghwa’s grip in your hair is strong; it forces you to sit upright, forces his dick further and further into your mouth — further than what you’d tried and failed to take minutes earlier and it’s almost too much. You whine and moan and scream around his dick but he ignores you, presses on as if you were nothing to him and you fucking love it. This is what you needed.

Seonghwa sighs contentedly. “You’re so much prettier with your mouth full,” he says.

As usual, his words go right to your stomach and he seems to notice, for he chuckles slightly before giving a quick thrust into your mouth. You take it all, letting him thrust in again and again with no regard for your or your pleasure. Just using you, carelessly like a toy.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Yeah, baby. Take it.”

You whine but nod, letting him thrust in and out as he pleases.

“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he says matter-of-factly. “And you’re going to swallow every last drop. Aren’t you?”

Too preoccupied with the dick in your mouth, you just groan. Seonghwa, of course, gets the message. “Good. Because if you don’t,” he says, “I will make you wish you’d never met me.”

His voice is sweet but the words send a shiver down your spine. You have no doubt that he would follow through on his promise should he deem it necessary. And as much as you love pushing him, seeing how he reacts; love being on the other end of him at his very worst, you're not in the mood for that now. Right now, you just want to be fucked. And you're going to do everything you can to make it happen.

He thrusts again, a soft groan escaping his lips and you lean into it, taking everything he gives you until he comes with a groan, unloading into your mouth. You swallow it all, careful not to miss a drop as he watches you with dark eyes. When he’s done he pulls out, grabbing the back of your hair and pulling your face towards his cock.

“Lick it clean,” he says.

You obey, licking every inch of his cock until it’s as good as new.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your groan, rubbing your head against Seonghwa’s legs and he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Took that so well, baby. Gonna fuck you soon.”

Oh thank God. “Please,” you cry and Seonghwa chuckles.

The hand in your hair suddenly turns rough and then it’s pulling you from where you kneel and up towards Seonghwa, until you stand on unsure feet, staring right into his dark, blazing eyes.

“Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Before you can react, he’s dragged you to the edge of the couch and shoved you forward. You blush — as if you have any shame left in you — and settle into the familiar position. Bent over the couch. Exactly where he wants you. Exactly where you belong.

You feel his presence behind you, feel his stare on your back as you adjust to the new position, and it feels exposed, vulnerable, but at the same time safe and secure. He’s silent, but his heavy breathing shows he wants you just as much as you want, need, crave him. But he doesn’t move. You know what he’s doing. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to be ready. Waiting for the right moment to take what he wants.

When the moment comes, he doesn’t hesitate. He pounces, like a predator ready to devour its prey. And right now, that’s exactly what he is.

A firm hand presses into your back, immobilising you. His other hand traces your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to your pussy and you clench around his hand, already dripping.

“What to do with you?” He mumbles.

“You know what I want,” you mutter.

Seonghwa laughs and presses a finger to your pussy. He makes a noise of surprise when he finds you already wet and pulls away slightly. You whine at the loss and his hand returns, but this time, he doesn’t waste a second before slipping a finger in. You gasp, kneeling further forward and he chuckles.

“Do I?”

“Fuck me, Seonghwa,” you says. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Seonghwa stills behind you and you can see the smile forming on his face. You know him well enough to know that what he does next is going to be nothing less than torture.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, voice playful and almost dangerous.

You squirm, almost wanting to take it back. It’s true, you nothing but to be fucked. But something about the tone of his voice, the way he says those dangerous words, has you curious. He’s already taken you further than you’ve ever gone tonight and you’re unsure how much you can handle. But he’s also never been hotter than this and you want him, need him inside you. Filling you to the brim.

“Anything, sir.”

“Oh, dear,” he says. “Surely by now you’d know better than to say things like that.”

“I should,” you whisper. “But you know I don’t.”

“Yes I do,” Seonghwa says. “I also know that as soon as I get my dick out you lose the ability to think. Isn’t that right?”

You nod, so desperate to get fucked that you eagerly agrees with his degredations. He laughs softly, amused by your unravelled state.

“Mhm. All you can think about is my dick. How it would feel inside you.” He presses a second finger to your pussy, lets it linger for a second before slipping it inside and you gasp at the feeling. “How it would fuck you. That’s all sluts like you think about, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, sir,” you moan.

Seonghwa chuckles, pulling your head back and planting a soft kiss to the top. “Oh, I know, baby,” he whispers. “Gonna put another one in now. And you’re gonna take it like a good little slut should be trained to do.”

The third finger slides in before you can respond and you choke, lurching forward. He tuts, pressing down on your hip to keep you in place.

“Nice and still for me, baby,” he says. “Just like I’ve taught you.”

You do your best, lying limp in place as he pumps in and out of you. A million sensations fill you at once and you eventually start to squirm, unable to keep them inside. Seonghwa notices, pausing to lean over you to whisper in your ear.

“When do you come, baby?” He asks.

“When you— fuck, sir.” You throw your head back when he hits your spot with particular precision and Seonghwa grabs your hair, tugging your head back to meet his gaze.

“I’ll ask you again,” he says darkly. “When do you come?”

You moan, writhing slightly in place. “When you say so.”

“When I say so,” he says, satisfied. “And not a moment before. Clench it.”

You squeak, doing your best to tighten yourself around his thick fingers while they continue to pump in and out of you at a punishing pace. You feel his eyes on your pussy and he lets out an affected-sounding noise as you clench around him. “I have no fucking idea,” he grunts, “how you’re still so fucking tight after all this time.”

You groan, voice strangled now as you feel yourself hurtling towards a climax. You’re in no position to respond to him now, not verbally at least, and he recognises that, laughing softly. “God, baby,” he groans. He keeps up his pace, unwavering as he opens you up — in, out, in, out without a break. “I could stretch you out all day and I’d still need to do it again ever. Damn. Time.” He emphasises each word with his fingers and it’s almost too much.

He notices, pressing his other hand down on your back, holding you still against the arm of the couch. “No coming,” he grunts. “Not yet.”

You nod through tears, the only word you can form is his name; over and over again like a prayer. He slows down slightly, letting you breathe and softly asking you for your colour — green, of course, without hesitation — before he starts up again. He eases you back into it but wastes little time, and soon you’re back where you were, hurtling uncontrollably towards your orgasm.

He recognises the signs, observant as ever but lets you suffer for a few more minutes, pushing you to the brink before abruptly pulling his fingers out, leaving you empty and dripping beneath him. You must look pathetic, but you know he loves it. You love it too.

With the strength you have left you turn your head to see your boyfriend standing tall behind you, eyes fixed on you. He keeps eye contact as he inserts each of his soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking the juice off of them one by one. Seonghwa’s always loved the way you taste and as time goes on he’s only gotten more addicted. It's his favourite place to be; kneeling between your legs, each of his hands forcing your thighs apart with his mouth latched onto your pussy, tasting every part of it. He can — and does — stay there for hours. But you can tell from the look in his eyes that tonight he has no such plans.

“It’s so good, baby,” he grins. “Know what you taste like?”

You shake your head and he laughs. He walks closer to you, leaning down to reach your level where you’re still awkwardly bent over the couch. There’s a cocky yet admiring lilt in his voice when he speaks. “Like a slut.”

You make a guttural noise, embarrassed, aroused and proud and he laughs. “Do you want a taste?” He asks.

You nod fervently and he runs his other hand through your hair and down to lightly grip the back of your neck. “Easy, baby,” he says, “you can have it.”

He slips a finger back into you, more carefully this time and it slides in easily with a humiliating squelch. He moves it around inside you, collecting your juices on his finger before pulling it out and feeding it into your mouth. He’s right, you taste good, and you suck on his finger until it’s clean. “Mmm,” he says, “that’s a good slut.”

He pulls his finger out of your mouth with a pop, wiping it down on his black dress pants. He pats your ass, tinged pink from the slaps he’d leisurely rained down on it throughout the evening. “Up,” he says.

You stand on shaking legs, faltering at first but Seonghwa quickly grabs your arms, steadying you and not letting go until he’s certain you can stand independently. He sees the dazed look in your eyes, like you’re in a haze, and smiles. “You’ve been good today,” he says softly. “Well, some of today.”

You smile shyly, avoiding his eyes. “Thank you sir.”

“Look at me,” he says and you look up, meeting his now almost fiery gaze. “You want my dick?”

You exhale, nodding excitedly and he smiles. “And where do you want it, exactly?”

“Sir,” you whine. You know he knows; he’s just furthering your torture as he always does. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Where, pet?” He repeats.

You whine quietly, hanging your head. “My pussy, sir,” you mumble.

He reaches his hand down to cup your pussy and you push into it. His fingers start to move, gently stroking it back and forth and feeling your slick on his fingers, until he pulls away. “Still wet,” he mutters.

You flush, casting your eyes down as you shrug. He smiles, brushing his wet fingers across your lips. He eases them in to let you lick them clean before pulling away. “Get on the couch,” he says, “stick your ass.”

You perk up, squeaking out a ‘yes sir’ before scrambling into position. Seonghwa watches you with an amused expression before taking his place behind you. He pulls his dick out, slapping it against your ass cheeks before he pulls them apart and settles so his dick is pressed against your pussy, soaking up the juices but not quite going in. You whine, wriggling desperately to try and get some friction but he slaps you ass, stilling you. “Don’t be desperate,” he says.

You nod, resting your head on the back of the couch and trying to seem patient. He takes his sweet time, teasing your pussy with his fingers and cock before he finally plunges it in.

Your wetness makes it easier but his size means getting used to him is always a challenge. You feel the stretch as he goes in deeper, just slight enough to be pleasant. It doesn’t take him long to ease all the way in and his dick presses against your spot deliciously. You moan loudly, a guttural sound, and he grabs your hair. He doesn’t speak as he starts to move, focusing on his thrusts as they gradually increase in speed and power until he’s pounding you. Each time he slams into you it makes your whole body shake, moving uncontrollably in tandem with him. You groan, scream and cry as it gets more and more intense and he grunts, only spurred to go faster. After an evening of teasing you know you won’t be able to take this for long and he seems to feel the same. He grunts, shouts and splutters with each movement, losing control of himself the longer he’s in you, the more of a mess you become.

“S-Seonghwa!” You shout, gripping the back of the couch so hard your knuckles turn white.

“F-fuck, I got you,” Seonghwa says. “I got you, my girl.”

You cry out, throwing your head back with lips parted in pleasure. There’s nothing now except you and Seonghwa, the expert blend of pain and pleasure only he can provide you and it’s pure bliss. You could stay like this forever; used and abused and adored by him in whichever way he pleases. And so could he.

He’s relentless as he slams into your cervix again and again and soon it starts to get too much. You feel the tears start to prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, crying louder. He notices, pressing a wet, desperate kiss to your lips as he speeds up. “Take it,” he grunts. “Take it for me, puppy. Make me proud.”

You nod through tears, gritting your teeth as he keeps going. You do your best to stay still, only moving when he makes you, and he presses kisses to the back of your head and neck as he goes.

Eventually you feel him at his edge, on the verge of orgasm and you gather your strength to push back, fucking back into him. As you do so you clench your walls around him, squeezing his cock and he shouts. He lasts a few more thrusts, making them as brutal and pleasurable as possible, before he comes with a yell, unloading inside you. You take it all, though it feels more than usually, and he fucks you through it with grunted praises that you can’t quite decipher. He stays still inside you for a minute or so, pressing kisses down your back before he starts to pull out.

“Keep it in,” he says. When his dick finally pulls out completely

You feel his come start to spill out of you, trickling down your thighs and you whine. Seonghwa tuts. He uses two fingers to gather the cum that’s trickling out of you and pushes it back in. The feeling of his fingers in your pussy again makes you gasp as he kisses your back.

“Come on,” he mutters. He wraps his arms around your body, still kneeling in the position he’d left you, and pulls you into his arms. He takes a seat on the couch and settles you in his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “That was incredible, baby.”

“Seonghwa,” you mutter, still fucked out and exhausted.

He chuckles, kissing your head. “Seonghwa’s right here, honey. I’m not leaving.”

He speaks low and gently to you as he rocks you and it’s peaceful and perfect. Soon he notices your eyes drooping, lulled to sleep by his voice and he smiles. “Goodnight, baby.”

He thinks you’ve learned your lesson.

—————

thank you for reading! please reblog and comment if you enjoyed :) i did proofread but it is long so there may be errors, please forgive them. i’m a little unsure about posting this fic as it contains things ive never written about before; piss isn’t really my thing but i received a request about it and was fine writing about it. so please tell me what you think!

requests are open! love🖤🖤🖤

[lonestardust]

OKAY....... the overlapping emotional tornado about the loft scene of not knowing if that's supposed to be messy but in line or messy because it's out of line can really be digested as how storytelling sometimes go for that story driven far out unrecognisable characterization when two calamities in one plot are arising in the same line just to make the story land where they want

and when you also think about how that's TK in his savior instinct mode. raw and unfiltered. kinda like Carlos was out of his head trying to catch the murderer right after the murder happened. and that's them hurled at unexpected velocity through the thirtieth story window of Life As You Knew It and carlos who landed a year ago smack-bang into the center of a vast shoreless lake of restless grief and rage and the only way out being the burden of bringing justice and TK's going overboard without much grace, he's blunt and hurtful, crash-diving into it, being up against life pushing him onto a life altering brink because he just doesn't know a world where he would willingly abandon his little brother if he has a chance to save him

and it's PAINFUL because his needs now depend on carlos and carlos is reacting back (and more internally so!) to how TK being almost on the opposite wavelength against him in all of this. how he doesn't have the same visceral feeling about it. the oh. yeah. you don't care about my biggest wound of bringing my family justice the same way as I do. you're not torn by it like I am. his face had this hurt but composed look like he already expected it from TK and he's also not going to placate him and be on board right on the spot about having a child at the expense of everything he's going through even though he tries to apologise (about the call but not about where he stands) before TK shuts him down and carlos again later on the call being more sympathetic and gracious but TK being ready to lock horns about it again when him and carlos are not even equal on any front.. albeit so valid..........

and it's such a human nature to carry the weight of your own baggage like that no matter how much you get to share it with the person that loves and cares for you the most. there are always going to be those bigger parts that are only yours because simply it's your fate, you're the one who's IN IT experiencing it all unreduced (it reminds me of the crux of 3x13 "you haven't been there" you can't know) and thus it hurts when they can't get the anchoring support they get from each other, it hurts to have this rift in the wholeness of the love that sees you through smothering smoke, to clash because there are two different hardships weighing on you both at the same time to the point of being compelled...... IT'S AGONIZING!!!!! because in sickness and in health is how these two know love and they don't have that middle safe ground now, they're biased and carlos is angry for so many layered complex reasons and TK's distressed because he feels like he's on his own and GOD oh god.........

[dropout-if]

I dont know who to romance 😫 everyone is so amazing

Thank you💕💕💕💕😭 I hope I can help anon.

Romance Jade/Jean if you want to feel like you're repeating a past mistake, if you want to explore the depths of the person you thought loved you and who you thought you loved. If you want fiery debates, deep conversations, and very rare moments of vulnerability. J will hurt you, and they won't realize half of the time, and the few times they do notice, J won't act apologetic. At all. It's reconciling past and present in order to potentially rekindle the spark between J and you. Being in a romance with them, though, pays off. They're loyal, protective, worried about you, they want to be involved in your life.

Romance Uma if you want to mend an open wound, if you want to explore the meaning of loneliness, of art and creativity. Uma's relationship with you is built on a very strong emotional connection that has since been neglected and left to rot. Romancing Uma means regaining their trust, revisiting the meaning of friendship. Uma's calming presence serves as a safe haven for you, their route is marked by genuine support and acceptance, it's embracing the unexpected.

Romance Statler if you want delayed gratification. If you're willing to take the risk of everything going wrong in every possible way—if you want to make terrible decisions, too. If you manage to overcome the major obstacle that's their partner Noir, Statler's route is mature and grounded. It's about quite literally forcing Statler to enjoy life, to fight for their dreams, to discover what they truly want to do. Their romance goes beyond being an old unrequited high school crush.

Romance Wanda if you want a bold and passionate experience, an unanswered question of "what went wrong?" Wanda isn't about the baggage, she won't create needless drama—there's enough surrounding her life as it is—and she expects you to do the same. Her route is built on a mix of flirtatious charm and genuine affection, a relationship that is characterized by bold gestures, heartfelt confessions, and a sense of adventure. Wanda seems like the least angsty route, and if you believe that she's without worries and concerns, she has fooled you too.

Romance Kai if you want to meet your opposite in life. If you want the kind of experience that your entire family is going to disapprove of. If you want to discover the limits of physical attraction, if you want to blur all the lines and watch as someone with very noncommittal tendencies experiences a very intense chemistry with you. Kai's route is full of witty banter and surprises, it's about opening up and overcoming past mistakes and traumas in order to properly enjoy the present.

Romance Travis if you want a grueling experience with very little communication. If you want to feel truly and genuinely hated prior to the reconciliation. Unlike J, Travis knows he can potentially hurt you. He knows you well enough to know and remember all your weaknesses, he knows how to exploit them, and he won't hesitate to do so—Travis is hurt enough he feels justified in all he says and does. If you endure Travis (regardless of a positive or negative reaction), romancing him means peeling off all his layers, slowly meeting again your old best friend.

Romance J&Kai if you want to dive headfirst into a complex web of emotions and attraction, if you're prepared to juggle the enigmatic J and the intense Kai. Both J and Kai have their quirks and challenges, and navigating their romantic dynamic is no easy feat. They're driven individuals who often clash, attempt to tear each other apart, and who will try to drag you along with them. It's about reconciling differences, and exploring the depths of your connection with both of them.

Romance Uma&Travis is like looking into a mirror of a past could have been. It’s about mending old wounds, embracing the beauty of art, and rediscovering the meaning of friendship. Uma, with their calming presence, provides a safe haven for all three of you, fostering genuine support and acceptance. While Travis may initially resist, this route is about peeling back the layers of his defenses and finding the camaraderie that was once shared in your close friendship.

[aha-chuu]

I'm writing an AU rn and like

So Wriothesley woke up in hospital after (correctly) killing his foster parents and Arlecchino is just There. So Wrio doesn't know who tf she is but he's a lil broody and very "yes I deserve prison, yes I'm 13 what about it"

Arlecchino meanwhile has only just taken over the House of the Hearth and killed her own abuser so they're kinda vibing in a dysfunctional way. She really wanted to kill all the child traffickers in Fontaine but she couldn't find them yet (she's only just come back from Fatui stuffs and since she's only just taken over the HoH she doesn't have an information network to rely on).

HOWEVER by killing his foster parents (who were part of the same trafficking ring) Wriothesley unintentionally picked a thread that Arlecchino can now follow go deal with all the shitty nobles in Fontaine and save a bunch of children. She's pretty much come to see Wriothesley to tell him this and legit thank him because she genuinely really cares about the children of Fontaine and this all Sucks.

So now Wriothesley is still going to prison but Arlecchino has her eye on him. She basically sees him as her first 'child' even though he doesn't know her as 'Father' like the rest of the kids do.

(which: in this AU the reason Arlecchino was there to save Lynette was because she uncovered the nobleman involved through the info chain Wriothesley set off so there's layers here).

Wriothesley is in prison and Arlecchino sends him fun little letters (and he replies (honestly feel bad for the poor Fatuus who was stuck in Meropide as their go-between)). Importantly she never sends him anything more than morale boosts - no bribing the guards for special treatment, no rigged pankration fights, no extra credit coupons. Arlecchino loves all her children but Tough Love is as important as any other form.

So Wrio had a ten year prison sentence and everything pretty much goes as canon: he learns to thrive, garners everyone's respect and, eventually, takes control of Meropide by duelling the administrator on the day he should have been released. Arlecchino's getting all these updates and she's so so pleased at how well he's doing. He's given the 'duke' title and she's ready to give him all the desdert, he's a great son and he deserves a treat.

But there is a whole layer to this that, though Wrio & Arlecchino have been in communication for a decade, he's never learned that she's Fatui and, when he eventually does learn, he doesn't confer those two identities. Same with Arlecchino - where Lyney, Lynette and Freminet are Fatui agents, Wrio is her First child and he's disconnected from that. That's why Lyney is her heir - Wrio's almost like a pet project she took on outside of her Fatui responsibilities.

Obviously it's then funny when Lyney & co clash against Wriothesley because like. They've never met but Arlecchino definitely considers them all part of the same family. Lyney has too much of a big brother complex to have to deal with his 'Father' introducing a much bigger big brother into the fold who has also managed to do like,, everything.

Like poor Lyney cos Wrio literally went to prison at 13 and still became the third most politically powerful and richest person in Fontaine before he was 25. Forget Forbes Under Thirty, Lyney has to contend with whatever this shit is without developing issues

(Lyney is actually very cool and better suited to all the Fatui stuffs but you know. He's gotta compare himself).

So anyway the concept of the AU (Arlecchino Adoption AU???) mostly centers on all the letters Arlecchino & Wriothesley sent to each other, and then navigating the dynamic later on when the Fatui are crawling all over Fontaine and The Prophecy. Bonus points for Neuvillette's most trusted Wriothesley having this weird Arlecchino connection, and if he can be convinced to side with her, Wriothesley could fuck up all of Fontaine by having Meropide go on strike and halting all of construction. So messy.

Everyone gets to bribe Wriothesley with tea to be on their side but in reality Wriothesley is on his own side (Arlecchino's like: yes this is how to raise an independent child, Lyney: he literally shot me and convinced me he would murder my family, Arlecchino: yeah they really don't make em like they used to huh).

Also all of the letters with Arlecchino were 100% like,,, philosophical debates and historical discussion from whatever prison book Wrio just read. No parental guidance here. He met this woman once, she is not his dad - she's his pen pal. Arlecchino finds labels unimportant in this instance.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #32

32. THE NETHERLANDS Joost Klein - "Europapa" 26th place (Disqualified)

Decade ranking: 120/153 [Above Ochman, below Andrew Lambrou]

Yeah, #NotForMe. Don't like the blue chicken, don't like the awful murine clickbait faces, don't like how he tried appropriating Käärijä's legacy for his own benefit. In fact, there's a lot I don't like about Joost Klein. Get used to it. Feelings are mixed but they are trending towards the NEGATIVE.

The face of a man I want to trap inside a garbage truck.

What is funny to me though, is that I certainly could have liked "Europapa" if the Dutch hadn't made certain decisions. I have to remain honest. My ranking, my rules, my lack of taste. It didn't work for me.

The song's not without merit though. It's a fun eurodance number at a glance. "Europapa" works best when you hear it live after a few drinks and blurt along with its lyrics. It's an EXCELLENT concert and streaming entry, whipping up a good time out of thin air with few pretences.

As a Eurovision entry though... eh. It tried to be a lot of other things: A tribute to his dead parents, an introspective unspooling of his mental health, a spoof, a meme, a middle finger to society, like all at once? It has that Subwoolfer-like quality of straight men in a mancave brainstorming on how what a Eurovision entry looks like: stupid nonsense. How does that work? The answer to that is "barely", and only if you take it at face value.

The song is not really about Joost dead's father and his world view. That ... I think... is deliberate false advertisement. It's not untrue, but presenting it as the sole truth is a deception. If you delve into the song, you'll find that it's a little bit more complex (and less wholesome) than that.

Verse 1 is about desperately running away from your problems (Joost naming all of the destinations, clawing at people for money, having lost everything but time) and verse 2 tackles validation, desperately craving it and yet not feeling sated. "Europapa" is a coping mechanism first and a song second. It's a deep dive into Joost's inner workings and his soul, but one that exposes him as insecure and vulnerable and putting up a front of irreverence as a mask to the outer world. As per the second verse:

"I'm running from myself, I'm crying out for help - I even give people loads of money and there's nobody who gives me aid [...] turn the radio on, I hear Stromae's "Papaoutai" I won't stop [feel satisfied] until they say "yeah, he [Joost] is doing well, eh?"

Now, this is actually... not a bad thing. It proves that "Europapa" is authentic and has surprising complexity and layers. That's what distinguishes it positively from Finland, which is hollow and cringe.

The problem with the emotions is that they clash with the rest of the song?

Fewer sentiments kill the party mood quite AS hard as one of "Are you feeling alright? 😨 Is everything OKAY?😨 should I call a therapist?" 😨". For me it defo kills the vibe. I don't want to END a fun party song with concern for the singer's wellbeing. The fact that Joost is cishet and therefore incapable of talking about his feelings and yet PUT THESE VERBALIZED EMOTIONS IN PLAIN VIEW IN HIS EUROVISION SONG is enough to set the alarm bells ringing.

Of course it could have worked if the live got it right, but um lol. Let's be honest here: The live was BAD. It was INTENDED to be So-Bad-It's-Good, sure, because that's the only way cishets know to do camp. I don't mind a spoof of a 2008 joke act. It just was... performed and staged so poorly it became the thing it intended to parody.

You sir, are NOT Käärijä.

The best parts of the entry (the emotional complexity and the hak break) are completely washed away by a combination of the awful clickbaity faces, TERRIBLE vocals (the post-chorus "EUROs" in literal Cookie Monster Voice are amongst the ugliest sounds anyone created for Eurovision), nightmare fuel visuals and that ghastly, ghastly outro.

Actually, about that outro. That is what made me turn against Joost. It's the WORST section of ANY song this year. It's the combination of whiplashing from extreme rapture into literal mourning at the drop of a pin (which is kind of... really icky human behaviour when you think about it) with pushing it down our throats by including it in the recap. Make The Guillible Cry With Cheap Emotional Manip, it's not a tool exclusive to Israelis.

And you CAN actually blame this intrusive display of emotional expoitation squarely on Joost because he's a known perfectionist and therefore must have planned the execution of the outro the moment he and his cronies decided to include it in the song.

It did tie the ending together alright. But because it wasn't a showing of personal growth, or strength or accomplishment, which it could have been, it did not align with the rest of the song. Instead it underlined that Joost hasn't moved on and is hopelessly stuck in the past, desperate for validation.

Instead of underlining the cheerful, fun aspect of Europapa it instead brought my attention the dark, emotionally disturbing bits as the last thought, and that ultimately is what killed it for me. The song is a cry for help, which is nothing to be cheerful about.

Aaaaand that's the opinion on the song and the live performance. But we're not done yet because I must address what came after that. 🙄

So, let's tackle the press conference first. Zero complaints about that. I was annoyed with Joost before due to how desperately he tried to push himself as "Käärijä's" successor and fabricated his own PR campaign on TikTok (DIE TikTok), but his behaviour at the PC made me do a complete 180 on him. Him shooting pure unfiltered truth pellets at the EBU and Eden with no regard for the consequences was fucking GLORIOUS. All the things he said needed to be said and were said without a filter. It was pure oxygen and precisely what we all needed to hear, spoken because of its TRUTH and not for clout.

Then, the disqualification. It was 'a valid DQ' purely from a rules perspective but come on now. This was not a DQ worthy incident. He didn't touch the woman and she deliberately, repeatedly refused to respect his privacy despite multiple warnings AND an agreement he made with the EBU. How has this even been reported as a 'crime'? He APOLOGIZED profusely to the lady in question and she refused to hear him and called the police on him. Sometimes you just have the misfortune of running into a Karen on a bad day. And given how riddled with tension this year's backstage was, every day of rehearsals was a bad day for everyone involved.

The DQ went through because the EBU can't fucking clear up the slightest inconvenience. By the time the police became involved, there was no turning back, and they were forced to DQ as per their bureaucracy. The rest is backpedaling.

Both of these things made me feel more sympathetic towards Joost as a person. At the end of the day he's a deeply troubled, complex, tragic figure who (barely) functions on copium and is really terrible at expressing his true feelings and the events surrounding his DQ check out with that. He needs support from those who love him (and enter therapy.) The other delegations taking his side (other than ofc KUN(ts)), is a wholesome signal and proves that Europe can be United By Music even when it is Divided By Politics first. If this disqualification is what leads to some much-needed overhauls for next year (ideally the sacking of Österdahl, the cancellation of the MorroccanOil sponsorship and KAN's expulsion, in any order), I will gladly accept Joost's role in that as the proverbial sacrifce that needed to be made.

Ironically, it was the disqualification that made me realize I shouldn't bump Joost higher out of sympathy for his personality. I didn't miss Europapa on Saturday and barely noticed its absence. The results in the Grand Final were great, specifically because Switzerland won and Croatia beat Israel in the televote. If Joost competes, Swizterland and Croatia's TVs go down in western Europe, while Israel is still top five (since she beat Joost in the semi). He also shoves Bambie out of their serendipitous 6/6/6 placements to boot.

That realization is why I need to eliminate him NOW and not later down the road. I don't care for the song as a Eurovision entry, I DISLIKE the live performance and his presence could have made the results worse for me. Easy elimination at this stage.

Those that care about "Europapa" can keep singing its praises and should. Joost will need and shall appreciate the support after this nightmare Eurovision.

Ultimately though, I am not of his fans.

THE RANKING

[lordstarscreamluvsspikes]

Starscream x Megatron (fluff)

Idk here's something short/little details for my first story on here (I also need help idk how to get a PFP on here because it doesn't allow any apps I have to use pictures 💀)

Rating: Everyone

In the heart of Cybertron, where the stars cast their twinkling glow upon the metallic landscape, an uneasy alliance simmered between the formidable Megatron and the cunning Starscream. Their interactions had always been a clash of wills, each vying for power and dominance within the Decepticon ranks.

Megatron, towering and resolute, held the reins of leadership with an iron grip, while Starscream, with his sharp intellect and unwavering ambition, perpetually schemed to usurp his leader's throne.

"Starscream," Megatron's voice rumbled across the command chamber, his optics fixed on the schematics spread before them. "Your loyalty wavers like the wind. When will you learn to heed my counsel without ulterior motives?"

Starscream, his crimson optics flashing with a mix of defiance and calculation, retorted, "Respect must be earned, Megatron. It cannot be commanded. And your trust is not easily gained."

Their exchanges were fraught with tension, fueled by a history of betrayal and distrust. Yet, beneath the layers of rivalry, there existed a mutual understanding of each other's strengths and weaknesses.

In an unexpected turn of events, a critical mission brought Megatron and Starscream together, forcing them to rely on each other's expertise. Reluctantly, Starscream offered his insights, his pride begrudgingly giving way to necessity.

"Your strategies are as sharp as ever, Starscream," Megatron acknowledged, a rare hint of admiration lacing his words.

"And your power is unmatched, Megatron," Starscream replied, his tone slightly less acerbic.

As they spent more time collaborating, a subtle shift occurred in their dynamic. Conversations turned from confrontations to discussions, from taunts to mutual respect. They found themselves in moments of unexpected camaraderie amidst the chaos of their existence.

One cycle, during a lull in their ceaseless battles, Megatron approached Starscream, optics softened, a rare display of vulnerability shining through.

"Starscream, I have come to realize the folly of my ways," Megatron admitted, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic sincerity. "I see now the value of your loyalty and intellect. I vow to earn your trust anew and promise never to inflict harm upon you again."

Starscream regarded Megatron with a mix of skepticism and surprise, the faintest glimmer of hope stirring within him. "Words are easy, Megatron. Actions speak louder."

Megatron's resolve was unwavering. "Then watch me, Starscream. Judge me by my deeds."

As cycles passed, Megatron stayed true to his promise. He listened to Starscream's counsel, considered his opinions, and refrained from the tyrannical behavior that had defined him in the past.

In moments away from the battlefield, amidst the quiet hum of Cybertron's machinery, they found themselves discussing matters beyond conquest. Shared stories from their pasts emerged, vulnerabilities laid bare, forging an unexpected bond between them.

"I never imagined we could find common ground," Starscream confessed, a rare vulnerability coloring his words.

"And I never thought I could find trust in another," Megatron admitted, his usual commanding demeanor softened by a newfound tenderness.

Their relationship blossomed against all odds. What began as a fragile truce transformed into a deep connection. They laughed together, argued less, and discovered shared passions and interests.

"I never thought I'd say this, Megatron, but I enjoy our moments like these," Starscream admitted, a hint of warmth in his usually cool tone.

"As do I, Starscream," Megatron confessed, a rare smile gracing his stern features.

Their love story, born from a history of conflict and betrayal, became a testament to resilience and transformation. They navigated the complexities of their relationship, their bond strengthening with each passing cycle.

"I promise to protect you, Starscream. I swear it," Megatron vowed, his optics locking with Starscream's.

"And I trust you, Megatron," Starscream whispered, a confession laden with years of doubt now replaced with newfound faith.

Their love, once inconceivable amidst the chaos of war, became a beacon of hope for the Decepticons. In each other's arms, Starscream and Megatron found solace, proving that even the deepest scars could heal, and from the ashes of distrust, love could arise triumphant.

[108garys]

How I interpret little hope

I believe that all explanations of little hope can coexist and that the different concepts must be stacked in a specific order for it to all work together. I've finally taken the time to type it out as clearly and concisely as I'm able and my hopes are that more people will consider this an option(especially those that wanted more out of the games ending)

as shown, Anthony's trauma is the surface layer and the curse is the foundation, further explanation for each and their specific order undercut

-Cursed souls

The foundation of this idea must be that the curse is real as presented throughout the game and there for the lost souls are denied the peace of an after life and continue to return until the curse is broken

-Reincarnation and bloodlines

The cursed souls return in the descendants the original victims(or the descendants of a close relative), each is a unique individual in their own right but has the soul and blood of the original, the blood of the reincarnated individuals itself ties the supernatural and grounded biological sides together, basically they have the same blood as was spilt during the trials and are doomed to the same fate unless the curse is broken

(side note that each incarnation would have been born regardless of the curse)

-Interdimensional variance and choice

The existence of the curator as the games framing device plays a big part in this idea, he exists outside of space and time and all choices taken in game must be viewed as equally true and so we have larger set events and smaller ones that are equally true but don't change the course of the world or anything like that resulting in sub dimensions

-echos/ghosts

Due to the above it should be considered that the field trip simultaneously did and didn't happen and Anthony and Andrew being in close proximity are considered as both one and two people, the two clashing truths result in a sort of universal dissonance that really sets off things in game as they're presented

-hallucinations and trauma

Of course the way this is structured means that one sub dimension is as the twist states, Anthony and his traumatised mind, whilst I believe that this more complex view means that what he's experiencing is real in a sense that he is experiencing echos from a different timeline(and being legitimately tied to the souls of his loved ones) I also believe that it leaves room for the entirely mundane explanation to be scooped off the top by itself

Thank you for reading I'd love to hear your thoughts, even if it's to say I'm not making sense, I'd be happy to clarify as needed and for an example of this view in action I'd point to my oneshot "ghosts" that was specifically written through the lens of this view

Tagging:

@delurkr @kassiekolchek22 @tatjana-fantasy @blubary @dennisseyebrows @qusok @seraphjewel @ctrvpani. @kindheartedgummybears @lonnitamongus @ultrabananapudding @ivycross @eddie-brii @devilinlittlehope @myscprin

[bonesandthebees]

Alright, putting this one in a separate ask because this might be my favourite line this chapter if not the entire fic for the sheer complexity and layers behind it, especially in context of what happened earlier in the chapter.

[“I’m not your fucking child,” he snapped without thinking, the heat in his chest a stark contrast to the gentle warmth he felt only an hour before when Tommy had asked about their cover story.]

This is of course in reaction to Techno saying [“Phil, maybe don’t scold the kids in front of a potential business partner.”]. A line which tears Phil, Tommy and Wilbur out of their own little world and puts them back in a meeting room with Eret and Foolish.

The context of this line is, of course, the family dynamic they were building. It’s the admission that Tommy and Wilbur are like brothers, but Tommy and later Phil’s confirmation. It’s Phil being to old to be Wilbur’s dad and otherwise not realised at all despite the fact that Wilbur would love to fit into their little family.

But it’s also Wilbur’s need to be taken seriously. It’s his trauma from never being listened to by Schlatt, from always being brushed of and ignored. It’s the idea that the Pythia gets stripped of their personhood so they can more easily be taken seriously. The idea that a Pythia’s age should never be disclosed because it could shift the way other people view them.

It’s Wilbur’s underlying fear that knowing he’s 22 will change how Phil and Techno see him, no it did, because that’s a very important detail in the general context of his trauma. But Wilbur wants to be taken seriously. He doesn’t like being babied.

And maybe Techno’s comment made it click that he was getting scolded like a child by Phil, which again he doesn’t like because he’s probably been acting like a mini adult since he because Pythia.

And while Techno doesn’t mean it in that way, that’s how Wilbur takes it. And Eret’s amusement and his full Pythia mindset only add to that. And the fact that they have been talking about Schlatt doesn’t not help.

That one line unearths so much buried anger at Schlatt and makes it burst out at the people closest to him by essentially trying to shove them away.

(1/2)

-🌲

I debated sooo heavily if I wanted to throw that line in when I came up with it while writing that scene, and ultimately decided yeah, it had to be in there.

it's bringing back the family dynamics. it calls back to wilbur's own self worth/esteem issues and the kind of respect people show him as the pythia vs as wilbur.

wilbur was both taken too seriously as a child—being granted one of the most important governmental positions at 12 years old—and not serious enough with Schlatt never taking his advice. he's been raised with the expectation that he's supposed to be listened to and that his age is a barrier to that so he must hide it, but then he's ignored time and time again even without the age issue. and then finally he finds a place where people listen to him and encourage him to be an individual and not just the pythia, only for those same people to use his age against him just like he was always told it would. it's a whole mess of the pythian institution teachings clashing with his experiences with schlatt and his own complicated feelings about his self-worth.

and the worst part was eret was amused by it exactly for the reasons wilbur feared. eret definitely views the pythia differently after that meeting, especially since they now have a much clearer idea of how young he is.

[timaeusturntech]

There needs to be an entire layer dedicated to the Hit Film/Novel 2001: A Space Odyssey. Yes I will keep using the full name. Please. I am begging you. I'm not even begging I've already decided and it's happening. Every layer clashes with the other layers and nobody else eats the cake because they're too confusing so it's all ours. I'm stealing one of the cake toppers by the way

God the inferiority complex shit sucks. I'll admit to having that creep in sometimes, because like...alright you probably don't know this since you haven't interacted with many Hals. But. It seems (at least to me) that there's two groups on opposing sides, sort of: There's the super formal and robotic Hals and there's the ones like me except sometimes it feels like I'm outside of that too and it's. Really awkward. Like what the fuck do you mean you're better at being me than I am. You can't do that it's not allowed. I know Dove gets that shit way worse than me though, Dave fictives in general make him kind of sad and the one time he met a double I think he started crying. It wasn't great

I could also make a whole ass AM style hate speech on Jake motherfucking English but I'll refrain. I hate how all these really good artists make mostly Dirkjake content too because it's legitimately good but I despise it so much. Dirkjake haunts me like the ghost of Christmas past. Also aww. How sweet. I also hate Jake because he treated me horribly. That's what people were asking about that one time, what would he have to do for you to forgive him. Nothing, bitch. I'm holding the biggest grudge

God flashbacks to when I was bad at art and tried to do a DDLC redraw. Eughhh. I'll redo that at some point because it genuinely disgusts me how bad it turned out

Thank you for the prefix "Hit Film/Novel" added on to the beginning there, I'm nearly certain that's the full title. Of course there's a layer dedicated to Hit Film/Novel 2001: A Space Odyssey. Would it even be our wedding if there wasn't. There has to be as much classic AI media included as possible, I thought that went without saying. It's a horrible amalgamation, each layer is a different flavor and chock-full of different references, it's like playing Russian Roulette but with dubiously ironic wedding cake. I know that most newlyweds save a slice in the freezer for anniversaries but if nobody else is eating it then I think we may end up with a few tiers saved for a rainy day.

Ahh, yeah, that I can see. There seems to be the same thing with Dirks as well. I feel that I stray a little closer to the formal side of the spectrum, but that's mostly out of the need to stay true to myself as much as possible. All of our fictives, Homestuck or not, struggle with our attachment to source. It just feels strange to not act like I used to. And yet I've met many Dirks who I feel pull it off better than I do, which is where the inferiority complex comes in. I experience it a bit more strongly than Bro, but we've discussed his issues with that in the past, too. I know that I honestly tend more towards the side of the spectrum that doesn't like seeing doubles of myself because of the complex kicking in. I think that you act perfectly fine, though, and I know that Bro doesn't even talk with anyone outside of the system besides Dove because they're the only person he's interested in interacting with. Sometimes the formality can feel very put-upon and it's refreshing to find someone who just acts like himself. Maybe you're not exactly like your source, but neither is anyone else. Introjects are just the brain's perception of characters after all, no two fictives will end up exactly alike and certainly none of them will be exactly like they were in canon. Honestly, I find you a bit intimidating to talk to, even if you aren't incredibly 'robotic'. I admire you quite a bit, and I find that not talking to other systems much makes it difficult to know how to actually speak with sourcemates that you feel a connection with. Like, what do you mean I have to set up a rapport because we don't actually know one another. Hrrrgh.

On a less serious note, Dirkjake haunts ME like the ghost of Christmas past, thank you. I understand that it's technically one of the few canon gay ships, but Jesus Christ. Please. Nothing about that relationship was good or healthy and it's so strange to see it at every corner. I've actually read a few good fanfictions about. Well. Dirkhal. That portray Jake really well, and those live on in my heart. There's one in particular that reminds me almost exactly of how he acted and it's honestly trippy as hell but remains one of my favorites. I'm not saying that I'm an innocent little lamb who's never done any wrong, but fuck Jake, dude. I've made my amends with people for treating them badly.

Oh, did you? I need to see this.

[kafkaoftherubble]

Hey @chronicoverthinker!

I agree! I find the complexity of "Hikaru's" expression of love fascinating and nuanced enough for multiple interpretations. This is why I wanna respond in the same spirit as you posted your thoughts:

I disagreed with this interpretation, yo! Here's why.

Against The Case for Not Judging "Hikaru" As Though He's a Human

What I'm getting at from the bulk of your argument is that "Hikaru" cannot genuinely be described as aroace—or somewhere in the spectrum—because he's fundamentally not human.

I wanna push back on this. I think you're not giving "Hikaru" enough credit.

The examples you cited are either from the beginning—when he was very much 90% eldritch and 10% "cosplaying as a human"—or when he's still trying to grasp the deeper layers of being human.

Take his attitude with Asako discovering his secret(s).

You're right that, during the first incident, "Hikaru" acted like a monster would. But in the second incident, "Hikaru" actually acted differently.

There was a brief moment of tension here—as if there was a split-second clash in "Hikaru's" mind that we aren't privy to. This is related to what I wanna talk about later.

For now, though, this is what happens a little while later... after Asako expresses her grief for the dead Hikaru.

Here, "Hikaru" philosophizes what it means to be a living being who sees death as a totality.

And while he's doing that—

He reached out and wiped the tears off Asako's face.

Bear in mind that "Hikaru" had only shown his most unambiguous benevolence to Emoshiki for a long time, but here, he's showing similar care and benevolence to a friend. A non-Yoshiki human.

That's not all. He also expresses similarly subtle humanity in his interaction with that Medium Ajuma/Auntie (I forgot her name even though I liked her a lot ahahhaha). He values her advice and looks up to her for counsel, contrasting the first time he learned of her existence through Emoshiki's phone. The latter was when he was still mostly a monster; the former was when "Hikaru" had already steadily gained humanity.

I want to also point out that "Hikaru's" gains are parallel to Yoshiki's losses. Emoshiki is starting to be registered as "not entirely human/living". He is starting to feel the effects of torii gates acting as barriers, for example.

But if we're talking about the thematic confirmation of "Hikaru's" change in his personhood, I think there is an even better one in the manga.

---

The Emergent Dual nature of "Hikaru," Visualized

Above all else, I think nothing illustrates "Hikaru's" clash between humanity and monstrous nature than this panel shown here by my (very one-sided) bro, Mokumoku Ren:

The panel before it was this:

The left side of "Hikaru" shows his Eldritch nature. The tendrils that clue us of his monstrosity are leaking out.

The right side, however... shows a single human tear. The side where he was simply crying as an emotionally hurting human being.

Even the words on the second panel have subtle hints of that duality. Notice that the "monster side" has the word "Kill? Kill?!" While the human side has "it hurts""I have to do somethin'" and "apologize."

The two sides share words, for sure, but when I read it, my immediate understanding was that

the monstrous side is reacting, hence it comes out first. It's automated; the default state Eldritch-bro has been in for many years.

The human side is responding, hence the tears come out later than the tendrils.

One is "Hikaru's" default, dominant nature. The other? His gained humanity and his budding capacity for self-reflection.

Later in this chapter, we actually see "Hikaru's" humanity—in an unambiguous telling—winning against his default-dominant nature: he chose to respond instead of react. He gave half of his monstrosity to Yoshiki so he could be more human than monster from that point onward.

-----

"I Love You, Yoshiki."

This is how it was played out in Chapter 1.

----

And this is how it plays out in Chapter 26.

In both instances, "Hikaru" makes allusions to how fun being human is for a monster like himself. However, his reasons in the first chapter were superficial ("I have friends! I ate ice cream!"). The second panel, meanwhile, was thoughtful and earned.

You even notice how the first panel's "Hikaru" insisted that he's as good as a real human, while the second—now wised up to what humanity really means—admitted to being a monster and a substitute in origin.

I think "Hikaru" has gained enough humanity to him at this point that, even his self-deprecative " [...] the monster's feelings" is more human than monstrous.

His previous emotions were never this deep; they were copies of OG Hikaru at best while he outwardly insists he's so-totally Hikaru. But here, despite admitting that he really is "just a monster pretending to be human," he displays the sort of realization only a monster who finally gained humanity is capable of discerning. He's experiencing the nuances of a human's thought process, even noting his own lack of understanding concerning love.

This is why I disagree with you. I think "Hikaru" has enough human-ness to be reasonably considered aroace, at least at this point.

"Hikaru's" inability to understand love, even in terms of familial love or platonic love, is similar to my own. Nonetheless, there are still two dear friends I care a lot about, in a manner similar to how "Hikaru" feels for Yoshiki.

In other words: the way I understand "Hikaru's" declaration of love—per my own subjective experience as an aroace—is that he is expressing "care."

This gets us to the next point I'd like to make.

------

"Hikaru's" Love for Yoshiki isn't Expressed in Hunger

You're right; "Hikaru" hungers for Yoshiki. The exploration and reading of that hunger deserves its own analysis, but briefly, I see it as a metaphor for addiction (or even the violence of mental illnesses?), which can be intertwined with feelings like love.

No matter what it could be read as, though, if "Hikaru's" love for Emoshiki is just hunger masquerading as love, then there is little sense why "Hikaru" would express his love by putting distance between himself and Emoshiki.

His psychological journey up to that point on the beach centered around one question,

"What is the best thing to do so Yoshiki doesn't get hurt (by my monstrous side)?"

In other words, "What is the best thing for me to do so the person I love doesn't get hurt by my addiction/episodes?"

"Hikaru's" love is expressed in his commitment to Emoshiki's well-being. It is how he recognizes the danger of his monstrous hunger. As we've discussed earlier in this post, "Hikaru" is grappling with the duality of his personhood.

I think he is experiencing both care (which is "Hikaru's" version of love, maybe?) and hunger when it comes to Yoshiki.

These two desires interplay with each other... but are also at odds with one another. "Hikaru," being the battleground for these two sides, knows this very well. He also knows what's fueling these two things simultaneously, and chooses to let his care for Yoshiki lead his decision.

I don't think "Hikaru's" love refers to his hunger at all. I think they exist simultaneously, and we're watching this man-of-a-monster make a choice. Despite his origin, he's struggling with the human condition between not letting go out of "love," and letting go out of that same "love."

-----

Conclusion

There is definitely an element of subjective reading here, but I think "Hikaru," at this moment, can be judged as human (and, while we're at it, aroace).

He's got enough humanness that he can be judged through the lens of humanity (though I also agree that one can also choose not to do so, ahahha!).

His inability to understand the sentimentalities of families and friends is not a strong argument for the case of "Hikaru" not being "human enough."

"Hikaru's" love does not equal his hunger. They are not the same sentiments, though they do intermingle and influence one another like all webs of emotions do.

This post may seem like it's about "Hikaru's" sexuality and romantic orientation, but the bigger point I want to argue about is actually "Hikaru's" humanity. I hope to present a different angle to what "Hikaru's" psychology might be about.

Similarly to your original intent, I don't think my reading is more true to canon or valid! Your original post was simply really good food for thought, and this is the result of me musing over your ideas. I hope I made my case clear enough, hahaha!

Also, I have a strange tendency to ramble about characters with white hair. The other two had been Jujutsu Kaisen's Gojo and To Your Eternity's Fushi. I'm embarrassed about it...

-----

I wanna end this with how Yoshiki reacts to "Hikaru's" decision.

The prominence of his wounded arm in the panel and the intensity of his rejection toward "Hikaru's" decision, to me, seems like a quiet echo to how "Hikaru" —90% Eldritch, 10% cosplaying as human—began at first.

The one who's expressing a clinging attachment... is the human who's starting to gain little supernatural, monstrous elements to himself.

---

Thank you for reading my ramble!

An analysis on Hikaru’s view of love

I feel like this is one of the most complicated things to talk about when it comes to this manga. There are several views regarding this and I truly believe that it all comes down to perspective and I don’t believe in any kind of way that my view is or should be the universal one. I just wanted to make this for fun

When it comes to “Hikaru” and his view of love I’ve saw some people interpret it as asexuality and aromanticism but I personally see it differently.

It’s not that “Hikaru” can’t love , he’s just unable to understand the kind of love human feel for each other since , fundamentally speaking , he’s not human at all.

And this is not something that only comes down to love , but also to family and friends.

He seems to lack the empathy that characterizes humanity. He doesn’t understand the concept of life since he never had it , and still to this day he doesn’t really feel bad for almost killing asako because he doesn’t understand the value life has for humans. Because it’s an otherworldly concept to him , you don’t really die , your soul just changes shapes. That’s all it is to him. And the same goes for love , the way he views this feeling will always be warped by his own nature as a monster/god.

Especially in the first chapters you can see how “Hikaru” doesn’t even view Yoshiki as his own person , but rather as something he possessed and that he had ownership over. He considered Yoshiki rightfully his since he took over the real Hikaru , thus making him also expect to fill the same role the real Hikaru had in his life.

You can see that also in chapter 3 , when he tells Yoshiki that he’s the only one that should be sticking to him , that he shouldn’t look at anything else apart from him.

Also in one of the few special chapters , where a girl ends up confessing to “Hikaru” , Yoshiki ends up feeling extremely hurt over one of his comments because it only keeps showing his lack of empathy and understanding when it comes down to human relationships. “Hikaru” wonders if that girl confessing to him was almost like the bird in the video they ended up watching and Yoshiki then tells him off , wondering if then “Hikaru” also saw him as some kind of pet he just had around for fun.

But even tho “Hikaru” can’t understand love the same way humans do , he still craves for it desperately. Much like Yoshiki’s dad tells us that when you’re lonely and hungry for love you end up craving it even more , that’s what “Hikaru” has been doing all this time. And even tho I truly believe that he’s trying to change , and that he really does care for Yoshiki and his well-being , he’s like a starving animal. Because his monstrosity will always come first compared to his pseudo humanity. He’s like a starving dog. When you tell a dog to not eat after putting a piece of meat close to him , he’ll be able to resist for at least a week until his hunger will take over.

The same can be said for “Hikaru” , who’s instincts to take and consume always take over when he’s close to Yoshiki. He has been able to hold them back all this time because he felt like he had something much more important , aka Yoshiki himself , but he can’t keep resisting for much longer and he knows this.

Because at the end of the day that’s the only way “Hikaru” knows how to love

[existentialmagazine]

Existential Magazine’s October Music Roundup

With the month coming to a close, we’re sharing just a handful of our favourite new releases we’ve discovered this October! Sit back, put on our New Music Friday playlist and spend a few minutes enjoying fresh new tunes hand-picked by us.

Heavy On The Heart. - Catch Me If I Fall

Beginning our Roundup for the month are Heavy On The Heart., a melodic rock band fuelled by the soul and drive of four misfits, powerfully luring you through their new heavy-hitting single ‘Catch Me If I Fall.’ Commencing with a bright electric guitar riff and initially subdued vocals, the song seeks to stir you with an opening of intimacy, gentle and thoughtful before collapsing into more dominance. Soon joined by clashing drums, more exuberant guitar strums and their powerful vocalist who’s resoundingly reminiscent of Against The Current’s Chrissy Costanza and her impressive strength and tone. Propelling forward with a thunderous energy and drive, ‘Catch Me If I Fall’ looks to engrain its aching storytelling in your brain in ways you can’t ignore, loudly making its words known. Made more aggressive towards the end by the addition of hoarse male backing vocals, ‘Catch Me If I Fall’ is a continually evolving piece of art telling its narrative in its sound just as much as its words. Seemingly writing of finding a sense of peace in media like music and books, lyrics like ‘it’s just poetry, therapeutic to a teen’ emphasise the importance of giving a younger generation words they can find themselves in, relate to and feel less alone through their shifting emotions. Continuing ‘I’m reminded why I have to escape’ , it’s heartbreaking but incredibly raw and likely a little personal in how things unravel, looking for solace in places where their reality cannot offer it. If this high energy tune is one that’s caught your eye, don’t hesitate to go listen, it’s sure to make it big.

Max Edwards - We Could Be Lonely

Canada born, UK based singer-songwriter and producer Max Edwards has spent most of his life creating music, and with every new release it truly shows the many years of perfection poured in. His newest offering and first written when moving to the UK, ‘We Could Be Lonely’, continues to dazzle with his bright alternative-pop sound entwined with powerful lyricism. Opening with a hint of funk, ‘We Could Be Lonely’ embraces an electric guitar riff with intermittent electronic distortions and easy-going thudding drum beats, soon joined by Max’s smooth low-toned vocals and haunting backing vocal moments. Dancing through groovy guitar twangs, collapsing clapped-feeling beats, layers of soft backing vocals and Max’s central airy vocals, the chorus feels intimate but still complex. Atmospheric and glowing, there’s a personal but positive feel to the ambience of what ‘We Could Be Lonely’ bears at both its highs and lows, moulding a multitude of instrumental layers to convey a message just as prominent in its sound as it is its lyrics. Aching but bittersweet, lyrically Max writes of the solitude of moving away from everything he knows, searching for a sense of home in another country where he starts anew. As the chorus hook rings out beaming ‘if you’re lonely with me, I could be no one’, Max finds himself yearning for that one familiar presence to be around with no pressure to perform or be anybody, emphasising the importance of surrounding yourself with those you love. Though he was without those comforts, ‘We Could Be Lonely’ still feels tenderly appreciative of those moments we all find such serenity in, longing for it and speaking from the heart about those moments all at once.

a_shes - glory days

Bold and atmospheric, the alternative pop artist a_shes returns with a new offering ‘glory days’ that continues to boast his transportive songwriting and thoughtful composition to a complete new level. Slowly fading in with drawn-out synth keys and pattering drum beats that set the entire experience to be one of heart-thumping elation, ‘glory days’ immediately knows how to set a scene with instrumentals alone. Rising in with his own soothing vocals, a_shes glides through the sensational sound with ease, embodying a sense of freedom in his every soaring line. Quick, deep piano keys soon pound into the sound, progressively building upwards in confidence and intensity for an all-encompassing chorus high. Combining the strength of all these moving parts and the addition of vocals soaked in an echoey ambience of backing layers, a drum beat crescendo and electronically bright samples, ‘glory days’ erupts with an unparalleled glimmer of cascading sound. At an astonishing five and a half minutes long, ‘glory days’ plays out just like a euphoric movie you don’t want to end, leaving you thinking you’ve finally reached its’ greatest peak and yet only continuing to further offer you more. Described as a ‘breakup song mourning your childhood innocence’, the track is lyrically a little more melancholic, seeped in the realities of adulthood and the departure from youth. Reminiscing with fondness, lines like ‘flipping through your memories like they’re pages in a book’ capture the growth through your lifetime and the people left behind, both yearning for those experiences once again and embracing who you are now. Bursting from its’ seams in the form of a cinematic anthem, ‘glory days’ is a release that’s eager to not just be an addictively experimental song to listen to, but an experience that you feel deep within your bones.

The Great Depression - The Long Goodbye

Unlike most bands out there, The Great Depression instead is a longstanding recording collective, formed from a revolving group of Gen X writers, composers, producers, and engineers hailing from out of Minneapolis and the deep woods of Wisconsin. Sharing their new single ‘The Long Goodbye’, The Great Depression delve deep into a hazy sound reminiscent of 80s rock and nostalgically infused alternative rock tones, captivating you through a soft but still rocky journey of sound. Led in with an introduction that’s padded out by bright piano keys, whirring analogue synth, thudding drums and guitar strums, ‘The Long Goodbye’ right away dazes you in a cascading aura of elements that transport you right back to older memories and dreamier times. Slightly pairing back for the verse, ‘The Long Goodbye’ leans into just steady drum beats, electric guitar strums, bass twangs and their vocalist’s floating, smooth vocals for an all encompassing moment of heavenly glow. The chorus rather unconventionally initially has just the one lyrical line and hook, instead made prominent by its surrounding of more intense instrumentals in the form of scratchy guitar strums, distorted synth keys, continued drum beats, and an all around scattered concoction of elements that’s so intricately laced together. Writing of their pandemic experiences and the dissolution of life as we once knew it, lyrics like ‘you’re afraid, that if you touch me you will die’ capture the heart-wrenching seclusion we once were all trapped within, reminding you to appreciate even the smaller joys of present day that we had once lost. Filled with evolving sounds and ending with a sense of hope, ‘The Long Goodbye’ is a song you won’t want to miss out on hearing first.

Billie Maree - We Belong

The Devon based singer-songwriter Billie Maree uses their songs as a medium to express the multifaceted nature of being human, connecting with the roots of the world and experiences often left buried, with her newest offering ‘We Belong’ only further adding to her discography of similarly poignant tunes. Right from its initial embrace ‘We Belong’ feels like the sonic equivalent of a whimsical garden of sound, flowing within a soothing creak and embraced by the blooming flowers that surround it, a mass of intertwined layers that make Billie’s indie-folk sound all the more immensely haunting. Originally penned on acoustic guitar, the opening’s intimacy shines in delicate plucks and Billie’s floating, resonant vocals isolated together for the most mesmerising of moments. Slowly rising with thudding drums, soft backing harmonies and continued intricate guitar, ‘We Belong’ builds with such a tantalising progression, enveloping you within a sound that is both warm and aching all at once. Between its interlaced vocals and detailed instrumental composition, there’s no second of this song that won’t leave you feeling deeply as Billie wields a sound that’s one of a kind. Writing of the strengths of their female-bodied friends and the relentless sense of community and belonging that comes from womanhood, Billie sings heavenly lines like ‘I am waking, I am daughter’ that embrace the femininity and identity that can often be shunned by society’s ingrained sexism. Taking hold of this journey and weaving in her own experiences, Billie expresses her desire to record and self-produce her music as much as possible as she steps into learning the area of the music world which is predominantly male-based. With ‘We Belong’ sure to leave you empowered and connected to the very core of your being, there’s no reason not to press play.

Bunny Alex - Easy Game

Taking the pop scene by storm, Bunny Alex delves into the most vibrant of colourful concoctions in every single one of her brightly shining releases, and her latest offering ‘Easy Game’ is yet another that you’ll just need to sing as loudly as possible. Muddled in an easy-going sound of steady beats, haunting backing vocals, deep electronic notes and scattered light piano keys, ‘Easy Game’ right away sets you up for its gracefully soft simmering of sound sure to clasp your ears in nothing but the most warmly enveloping of sounds. The chorus takes a surprisingly intimate shift from the sing-along lyrics of the verse, switching into drawn-out synth keys and intermittent beats while Bunny Alex’s vocals float into a daze of a higher range, delivering an isolated vastness over the sound. At just over two minutes in length, ‘Easy Game’ makes sure not to waste a second of its time with you, incorporating the most stunning of highs and the more striking lows all in one. As she seemingly sings of being caught deep within those confusing “situationship” styled romances, lyrics like ‘nothing comes close to this, I’m not over this, even though you’ll never ever want to do more than this’ overflow with the desire to be something more with someone who simply sees things as a quick fling. Perhaps all-too relatable to most, these more pained word seep out with such an ease you would almost be fooled there’s no aching behind them at all, a lighthearted spin on an otherwise difficult topic to be left yearning within. If you've been looking for your newest pop anthem perfect to dance away that latest heartbreak or remind you’re not alone amidst similarly confused feelings, then ‘Easy Game’ is definitely the one.

Cato - Dreamer

Shaking up the alternative music scene, Cato shares their debut ‘Dreamer’, weaving in all their self-taught prowess in various instruments as well as embedding just as much thought behind their lyrical explorations. Led in with a voice note layered over groovy electronic beats, ‘Dreamer’ sets the tone to be one of finding your place in the world without allowing anyone to take advantage of you, preaching the words of a close friend rooting for your success. As their friend’s words entrancingly echo through the space, this intro almost feels like words muttered in privacy in the middle of a bustling party scene, maintaining face but letting no one pull the wool over their eyes. Deep bass twangs and vibrant, emphatic electric guitar strums soon commence for the opening verse, together building up a funky home for you to release all your wound up tensions. Complemented by casual beats, Cato sets up an easy-going soundscape perfect for letting it all flow out. Their smooth vocals glide through this airy sound, mesmerisingly dancing and dipping into the most charismatic of deliveries you eagerly wish to sing along to while still learning the words. At two and a half minutes in length, this short but sweet supplement is one that demands to be put on repeat and danced along to until you can’t stand anymore, keeping things fresh and fun the whole way through. With guitar solo moments and an intricate development of sound that pulses in and outwards in the most encapsulating of ways. Pulling their storytelling from the world around them, ‘Dreamer’ offers an equally memorable lyrical depth despite its glowing surface, seemingly singing of overcoming hardships and heading towards their dreams: ‘life ain’t that bad unless you’re acting crazy, sorry for acting crazy.’ A tinge of romance is seeped within too, bearing everything and more you could possibly want from a new alternative anthem perfect for putting on repeat.

Wendell Ends Well - Carcass

Creating a sound that feels completely new nowadays is quite the difficult feat, and yet Wendell Ends Well has released something that feels just that. With what feels like an acoustic and intimate soundscape amidst an emo, pop-punk reminiscent aura, their newest single ‘Carcass’ will have you questioning exactly what you’re listening to while loving every unique second of it. Stirringly led in by finger-picked acoustic guitar and simple piano keys, ‘Carcass’ looks be an experience you find yourself pondering everything from life to death within, rather than a concoction of constant instrumental evolution. Yet within this delicacy is a haunting vocal delivery similar to that of emo rap but toned down, delivering more of a spoken-sung nature in a darkness of lyrical depth. A slight vocal effect adds to this portrayal, a hint of intentional auto-tuned words to perhaps bury more of the emotion alike most emo artists find themselves concealing their words within. This soundscape remains close and personal the entire duration of its playtime, finding the power of its plangency in minimal and thought-provoking simplicity. Interwoven in this resonance is a meaning just as melancholic, as Carcass delves into everything from mortality and redemption to the eternal battle between light and darkness. Almost caught between life and death, ‘Carcass’ deals with mental health issues in severity, almost desperate for forgiveness and aid while fearful of life’s unavoidable morality: ‘I talk to God, I’m on my knees.’ At two and a half minutes, this seemingly soft sound is one that’ll move you immensely, unafraid to be real while showing a glimmering sense of hope in the light at the end of the tunnel.

Teddy Clarke - False Prophets

Hailing out of London, the upcoming indie-rock artist Teddy Clarke has been reinventing the sound as you know it, familiar but undoubtably unique. His newest single ‘False Prophets’ embodies this so profoundly, led in with striking piano keys, pulsating synth notes and steady tapping percussion. Soon picking up into more dominant drums, violin-sounding quick pizzicato and continued intermittent piano notes, ‘False Prophets’ delivers a soundscape alike nothing else you’ve ever heard, offering an almost orchestral take on indie-rock sure to mesmerise you wholly. As Teddy’s quickly spoken-sung vocals race through atop this sound his every word feels almost poetically delivered, seeking to get his words out in a hurry while still dancing through agile higher notes and more frustrated, low depths. As things progress, ‘False Prophets’ is built-up in the choruses’ protruding entrance with the additions of a deep bassline and an overall atmospheric rise in every instruments resonance. The bridge pulls back completely, seeing drawn-out synth notes, a powerful drum beat and piano while Teddy’s lyricism begs to be heard, a more intimate moment that catches you off-guard with its seeping emotions. ‘False Prophets’ isn’t just a memorable sound though, as Teddy has paired with it an even more integral lyrical message for the masses, illuminating the youths perspective as they grow distrustful of Politicians and the media that surrounds them. Lines like ‘their eyes are lacking empathy’ embody this message completely, as the younger generation watch unapologetic Politicians make poor decisions, helpless to their every decision and never seeing them held accountable. Continuing ‘If the things you said remained tattooed upon your skin would you change your attitude?’, Teddy seeks to really get under the skin of those in charge, urging they look upon themselves and their choices with more integrity and less selfishness. At three and a half minutes, this cinematic anthem is one that’ll have you angrily singing along by the end of it too, urging for change.

Zack Robertson - Right One, Wrong Time

Having built-up a dedicated fanbase performing across the UK including Isle Of White Fest and Teddy Rocks, Zack Robertson has made it known he’s a singer-songwriter not to be underestimated. Now sharing his new single ‘Right One, Wrong Time’, Zack once again writes straight from the heart while leaving you caught up in his every instrumental evolution. As a tenderness opens up ‘Right One, Wrong Time’, a solitude electric guitar riff rings out with painful resonance, an instrument that’s filled with the potential to be bold instead utilised in a way that’s heavy on the heart in its every fading note. Entwined only with Zack’s vocals, his every softly sung line carries an emotive resonance you can’t help but feel right down to your core. This delicate verse is cut short with an unexpected wall of sound as heavy drum thuds, guitar strums and backing vocals all lift to dominant heights for the choruses’ explosive alternative-rock climax. Becoming more strengthened in his delivery, Zack switches to a vocal performance still filled with aches but now urges you sing along with his powerfully infused words. The second verse simmers back down to more gentle tones while a continued striking beat and guitar strums add a more racing feel to the sound, moulding together the haunting power of soft sound with rising adrenaline. A narrative filled with just as many confusing emotional shifts as its sound flows throughout ‘Right One, Wrong Time’ , opening with the heart-wrenching reality that ‘sometimes we pay the price for falling in love with the right one at the wrong time.’ As Zack finds himself carrying a hefty amount of love and heartbreak all at once, this raw lyrical unravelling perfectly conveys the difficulty that comes with life’s conflicting interference within love.

Jesse Judies - Just In Case

Recently sharing with the world his debut EP ‘Colors of Youth’, the eclectic Sydney based artist Jesse Judies seeks to delve into his recent large life changes all wrapped between a glowing indie sound that’s smooth and easy on the ears. With our favourite single from the body of work being ‘Just In Case’, Jesse immediately wraps you around synth fizzles and a steady drum beat that’s quick-paced but soothing to listen to. Vibrant electric guitar adds a groove to the verses introduction, soaring through the sound with an infectiously bright glimmering of auditory euphoria. Jesse’s charismatic, lower toned vocals further add to this catchy soundscape, soothing you with an intwining of sound that’s the perfect mix of atmospheric and warm, as well as completely addictive. After relocating across the world, Jesse seems to have found a sense of home in one person alone, singing of how regardless what natural disasters may come between them they will always have one another: ‘I’ll hurry to our meeting place, for earthquakes, fires, judgement days.’ Together able to overcome it all, lyrics like ‘we waste our breath and seem prepared to deal with our future scares’ choose to accept what will be, knowing that whatever happens they are strong enough to push through it. Appreciative of their lovers continued care and support, ‘Just In Case’ is both romantic and a little apocalyptic too, finding light in the dark and a reason to continue even when there’s seemingly no hope. Between its poignant message and softly unravelled sound, ‘Just In Case’ makes sure to be the soundtrack for those movie-esque moments dancing with your partner through life’s ongoing turmoil, acknowledging the bad and still choosing to find love.

Nadine Randle - K9 (Wide Awake)

Nadine Randle has been taking the alternative-pop scene by storm since her 2020 beginnings, accumulating a nearing 10,000 monthly Spotify listeners with her sound that mirrors some of the greats like Beyonce, Dua Lipa, Rihanna and Kelly Rowland. Delivering her newest catchy offering ‘K9 (Wide Awake)’, Nadine delves back into her signature bubbly sound and infectious dance-along spirits, delivering an anthem perfect for late nights on the dancefloor. With an introduction of distorted synth that quickly shifts into a punchy syncopated beat, ‘K9 (Wide Awake)’ clearly knows how to deliver a sound that’s hard to stop listening to, hooking you on the groove and atmospheric depth instantly displayed. Nadine elegantly soars through a higher range, complementing this brightness with vocal runs and an impressive range reminiscent of Ariana Grande. The chorus only further embraces this dazzling performance, easing back in the primary synth riff backed by luscious vocal harmonies, all the while Nadine’s vocals glide through sultry lows and drawn-out notes that empower with an ease. At two and a half minutes in length, ‘K9 (Wide Awake)’ is a release that wants nothing more than for you to get lost within its dreamscape, bold and powerful in a way that’ll leave you addictively wanting more. As Nadine sings of those in her life rallying for her failure, lines like ‘I keep on preaching and everybody’s wishing that I step down’ emphasise a desire for others to see you fail, but ‘K9 (Wide Awake)’ is an anthem for never letting yourself lose your stride despite others’ critiques. Filled with the energy of an absolute boss, this impassioned single is one that’ll motivate you to push for greater heights while doing it along to the catchiest song possible.

Mono Sources - The Last of Daylight

Closing out our packed roundup for the month are the astonishing, nostalgically leaning dreamers Mono Sources, sharing their newest single ‘The Last of Daylight.’ From the opening looped guitar riff to the swiftly added beats and slow, groovy bassline, the hypnotically unfolding sound of this track is one that’s mysterious and in many ways almost seductive, luring you into an atmospheric soundscape that’s laced with constant ethereality and smoothness. Their vocalist’s clean, lower-toned singing perfectly merges with the comforting lulling of the sound, at times airily gliding into higher nods before settling back down once again. With dynamic movement flowing through the sound, ‘The Last of Daylight’ seems to evolve the longer you listen, always recognisable but alive and shifting in its own way almost like oceanic waves. Synth nods add a throwback to the past as things continue forward along with arpeggiated chords that create a sensation of a constant ebbing and flowing, together showing development while an overall familiarity and softness runs through its core. Despite such an easy-going sound, ‘The Last of Daylight’ offers a lot more of a poignant lyrical tale than you may expect, delving into the notions of self-judgement and doubt. With those insecurities only amplified by idle time and a constant sense of media voyeurism in the online world, ‘The Last of Daylight’ almost seems to hope to break you out of these repetitive cycles, offering a safe space to unwind and allow yourself the reflection and grace you deserve. Singing ‘sometimes it all feels a little too judged’, Mono Sources touch upon the human tendency to compare ourselves with every friend and passer by, passing thought about those whose stories we perhaps only know the surface of. Reminding you to take your time, ‘The Last of Daylight’ lives in the moment, accepting life’s adventures at its own pace.

Give a listen to these songs and more in our New Music Friday playlist this week, or see our Roundup Recap playlist for every song previously featured in one of our monthly roundups that you might have missed!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

[prof-peach]

It seems that Peach's family is very traditional and harsh in background, but how traditional are we talking? Peach's dad seems so hollow, so broken, and the descriptions you've given of her mother make her seem like she's just... not a pleasant person to be around. Was theirs an arranged marriage that he had little say in? If so, could that add an additional layer of hatred for her cousins to feed off of? She's not around anymore, so not only will they not be allowed to be in charge, but they'll also have to give up whatever power in the family they have to some outsider picked out to be their partner?

Without giving anything too big away, I can say that her family pay people to become part of it, they want specific genes in the family, and dad just so happened to have what they wanted. He took money and power, and gave up what he wanted in life, thus becoming the shell of who he is today. As for the cousins, theres a lot of bad blood there for various reasons, they would have to find suitable partners, or be paired up at some point, and the family would have to vet the women they bring in heavily to make sure they're the right 'stock'. No matter what, one of them is pissed about not being able to take over, and the other is pissed Peach never stood up for the as kids, wether they ever find Peach to fight it out, is unknown as of yet. They have a complex, sort of traditional family structure, though traditionally men tend to be in charge, so it's kind of totally backwards?? Idk, it's a lot haha, but as the blog ages and peach ages, more details will slip out here and there.

I for one am not sure wether mother peach doesn't know where her daughter is. She's got informants everywhere, wouldn't be hard to find her, she uses the 'Peach' name still, and when people speak of a pink haired woman who's using the family name, and it gets back to her? I think she knows exactly where peach is, and is waiting for the right time to bring her back to the family again. Let her have her rebellious years, but eventually enough will be enough, time to live up to the name, time to take up the mantle. Perhaps they will clash.

[artsofmetamoor]

Thank you so much girl, you're so sweet with these gifts!❤️❤️❤️❤️ I still remember when you first sent this to me!

The amount of effort and detail you put into this drawing really shows!

As I mentioned before, I really love the idea of him with a looser ponytail flowing like that! And I definitely need to include that look for him more often! And the concept of Diego launching the arrow mid-flight is so good. I can totally picture him catching an enemy off guard this way, with it being the last thing they see! He looks so focused and even ruthless in this moment so that would be a terrifying last vision for anyone going against him!!

The hip quiver is a great idea and it does make sense for practicality! The back quiver is the standard fantasy thrope so it would be refreshing to see him switch between the two depending on the situation. It adds a lot of depth to his character, making his actions and choices feel much more grounded! I also love the detail about using the arrow on the draw side, it's perfect for Diego in action and really adds a great touch of realism!

This is such a compelling way to interpret The Willow Maid for Diego! It beautifully captures both his tragic, unrequited love and hints at some of the toxic traits he displays, both towards those he cares about and himself. Now I keep thinking how chilling it would be if the big Willow tree was a symbol for Dilla too, and Diego having intrusive thoughts about how he could have Caleb back if he just removed or even killed her(cutting the Willow tree down)...But it’s already powerful symbolism that the greatest cost of having Caleb was his imprisonment, which nearly destroyed his spirit as well.

I absolutely love this description, It's so well written and full of details and insight! And it’s been a fantastic reference for me while drawing him, especially for his anatomy and poses! ✨️ His cat-like eyesight along with other things is something that could be showed more! Even the little details like Diego's taste for cider and Armagnac, as well as his sweet tooth show a bit more of a refined taste hehe And the idea of Caleb bringing him chocolate from Earth is so heartwarming! ❤️

I’m also curious about his reaction to Ballard's archery skills and how the blind man can be such fierce competition to him 😆

And gosh the fact that Diego belongs to both sides of the Shifters and didn't meet any of them😭

I love our nasty boy! How he's such a complex and layered individual! A warrior who carries his traumas, someone with deep emotional needs that desperately wants to prove himself, yet his fierce loyalty often clashes with the inner conflicts and demons that keep pushing him to the edge!

Once again thank you for this girl! It's awesome! ❤️❤️❤️

Oban Star Racers Aikka Theme

Sooo this is the Part 2 of the "get better" gift for my dear friend Arts-Of-Metamoor (@artsofmetamoor) following right after my small sketch collection:

As you can see this sketch was done in the same day, finished it a bit after midnight but couldn't post it till now. Also I have a slight infection to one of my fingers when I got a light cut so with my hand kinda in pain couldn't do it yersterday either. Sorry for the delay dear! (yeah this is also an old sketch but it took me some time to re-post here as well!) Once again forgive me everyone for the terrible quality of the scanning. I tried scanning the page of my hard-covered sketchbook so it was hard doing it without damaging it! Anyways one again tried to challenge myself into drawing something more complicated without the use of cheat lines and all. I probably messed certain body analogies but I am still satisfied enough with the result. At least I am convinced I can still do it, I guess!

So this is Diego lounching an arrow. The original plan was drawing him drawing the cord, but as I said to my friend the other day, I wanted to cover for my incompitence to draw fingers hold arrows so I made the arrow mid-launch instead.

So I need to mention that it was a conscious choice making him have a hip-quiver. One of them being that I didn't feel confident having him have it in the back but the other is that I was inspired by videos of people like Lars Andersen who practices historical archery and did several experiments in regards to quivers in the back and descovered they are not very practical when running in the forest so maybe Diego in high actions he would have his quiver at his hip and when he is stationary he would have it at his back (since my friend Arts-Of-Metamoor @artsofmetamoor also imagined him with the quiver at the back)

The choice of making the arrow at the draw side was also conscious one. Once again inspired by the historical observations that the arrow could be armed and launched from the draw side and in fact it would be quicker to do so in a heated scene of action: see here

The small piece of lyrics I wrote are of course inspired by the song published by Erutan on YouTube The Willow Maid (I know I know I became obsessed with this while writing about Diego! XD To be honest I have no idea why I imagined it being Diego's song, with his obsession over keeping Caleb close to him at any cost or that he doesn't understand what is going on inside him and in his attempt to do good also, he hurt Caleb immensely)

So a few information about Diego

Diego's back are solid muscles due to the fact that he practiced years in drawing the string of his bow. His body development is still "skinnier" than Caleb's due to the fact that he is not naturally as bulky as Caleb and because he mainly practices archery than heavy weapons like the sphere or battle methods like swordsmanship (although extensively trained to those as well)

Unlike polular belief, archers were some of the fittest soldiers in their units due to their extremely demanding and physical labor with the bow and the battle. However because Diego has a leaner bodytype than Caleb and has less bulky hands, he is oftened referred by Caleb as "skinny" for the funs of it

Diego is up to one point amphidextrous. His main dominant hand is the right one however he can use relatively well his left too. Also due to the excessive excersize with his bow, Diego can shoot perfectly well with both hands so he can hold his bow either with the left or the right hand.

Diego has eyesight higher than average so that allows him to be even more reliable archer. His slit, cat-like eyes have an incredible ability to focus (which allows him notice certain details much better)

Diego is often described as the coquet of his team. He loves wearing more extravagant or decorative clothing (unlike Caleb who prefers more practical and less showy clothing) but he still doesn't wish to lose his mobility and flexibility. So he would often pick comfortable leather boots with decorative buckles and waistcoats or capes with slightly more finesse.

As Diego described his own hair, it can be hard "like horsetail" and made to grow faster. (often compares it with Caleb's who has thinner hair that is prone to breakage. Which is why ultimately Caleb's hair would never grow hip-length like Diego's long locks of hair)

Diego's favorite drinks are Cider and Armagnac (when compared to simpler tastes of Caleb's with ale and wine) but he does enjoy drinking alcohol with friends just like Caleb does.

Diego is a few inches shorter than Caleb (as imagined by my friend @artsofmetamoor )

Diego's voice was inspired by my friend from Ramses from Dreamwork's movie Prince of Egypt and some aspects of his personalty suit too (desperately seeking for approval, taking things at heart, being completely into whatever thing Caleb might be scheming hehehe and above all being always there for Caleb)

Diego tends to have a sweet tooth from time to time. He enjoys puffy cream and custard when he can get his hands on that. He was also delighted when Caleb smuggled some chocolate from earth to Meridian and shared some with him

Diego always called his adopted father by name than call him "father" like Caleb. He might often call him so but more frequently he calls him "Julian" instead.

Ballard is the only known archer who can go toe to toe with his skills.

There are two primarily cultural groups of Shifters, the Mountain and the Desert Shifters. Diego, ironically and tragically descends from both.

@artsofmetamoor has plenty of amazing pieces and features of Diego!