#garuda shield

[gurindammedia]

Laksma TNI Tunggul menyampaikan, karena TNI AL yang memiliki pemahaman terhadap area operasi sehingga negara yang ikut dalam SGS 2023 ini mempercayakan Indonesia memimpin jalannya tahap sea phase ini

[hexonthepeach]

dive

pairing: f4!nct dojaejung x fem!reader (past johnny x reader mentions)

genre: hana yori dango/boys over flowers/meteor garden/f4 thailand reverse harem au (mild allusions and characterization only)

warnings: brief mentions of past bullying, dom!doyoung, hopelessromantic!jaehyun, mommykink!jungwoo, reader is a bit of a switch, smut (mmmf, double penetration, oral f & m receiving/giving, unprotected sex, anal, semi-public sex), degradation/humiliation kink (reader), pet names: baby, mommy (reader), puppy (jw)

wordcount: 10k

author's note: i wrote this as a distraction from other projects after listening to perfume on repeat and lamenting the end of promo. intended as a oneshot but i have some ideas for continuation. please let me know if you enjoy it (and more importantly, what you enjoy)

The Bangkok night is warm and thick and redolent with flowers. The expensive vacation home one of your three companions had arranged for your short stay is quietly luxurious, separated from the city bustle but still hazed with light past the high walls and thick foliage surrounding the pool. 

You'd never made a habit of asking who paid for what with your travel companions, but you guess by the mix of old world and new that it was Jaehyun's idea to stay here–perhaps even a Jeong family permanent accommodation. His family's import business had done well in the region, judging by the luxury sports cars parked in the driveway.

Everything about this trip is surreal–worse for the fact that a fourth presence lingers like a ghost in your periphery. 

He should have been here. Indeed, you've taken his place, filling the natural void like a small drop in an ocean-sized hole. 

Everything about this distraction brought you back to him: the rose petals strewn across your pristine bed, the snarling garuda statue lurking across the aquamarine oasis. 

Johnny is 8600 miles away and still very near. 

Jaehyun joins you at the pool's edge, slipping some well-concocted drink near your manicured fingers–most likely Jungwoo's contribution by the tasteful sprig of flowering basil. You'd refused multiple drinks at the club, still flagged from a day of travel and self-conscious of the eyes on your table and you’d finally agreed to one now that you were back safe in your own private enclosure.

He shucks off his sandals to dip his feet in beside yours, nudging you beneath the water to remind you that even with the grief that's hollowed you out inside, you're not alone.

Jaehyun doesn't speak–well accustomed to your need for silence when you've inevitably descended into that space again. 

Unfortunately, Doyoung isn't as accommodating. 

"What did we say about moping, Y/N?" A tall shadow stands beside you, swaying slightly. 

"I'm not moping," you say, sipping from your glass of Mekhong soothed with sugar and soda. "Just thinking."

"Wasn't the point of this vacation to get you to stop doing that?" Doyoung is touching his toe to the warm water when there's a sudden rush from behind you, a startled cry escaping the man before he hits the surface fully clothed. 

"Was he bothering you?" Jungwoo asks, looking completely unfazed about shoving the other man in.

"You bastard," Doyoung says, spluttering up and tossing his hair back as he holds his phone out of the water.

"It's waterproof."

"That's not–"

"I'll buy you a new one." 

"Now you're going to have him trying to return the favor," you say, giving him a sly smile.

"Oh I think I'll be alright," he says with a wink, backing up a few paces before cannon-balling in. If you'd been doused by Doyoung's ungraceful landing you're soaked thoroughly by the splash Jungwoo makes, finding yourself shielded by Jaehyun's torso wrapped around you. 

You hadn’t even thought to protect anything but your drink, your heart stuttering as you find yourself inches from his flushed face and rosy lips.

"You okay?" he asks, wiping water from your face with his silk sleeve. 

"Yeah," you say quietly. "Can't see the tears now, right?"

He blinks at you, believing you by the clouded expression in his dark eyes.

"I'm just kidding. Not crying, see." You smile at him as best as you can muster, hoping your carefully-applied makeup isn't running off your face. 

"Don't you want to join us?" Jungwoo has escaped Doyoung by pressing himself to your knees, shoulders well out of the water at standing level. You shake your head, suddenly shy.

"You should have let those girls come back with us," you say. "All that work wingmanning for nothing."

"Blame Doyoung for boring them talking about tariffs," Jungwoo says, ducking as the other shoves water in his direction. "Besides, we didn't want you to be alone."

"You know I don't mind, puppy." You tousle his wet hair, sipping deeply again. Through the fogged rim of your glass you catch his cheerful expression falter. It lasts only as long as he realizes Doyoung is floating on his back, swamping him with a tackle.

"I asked them to keep it just us for tonight." Jaehyun says, breaking his quiet. 

"Saving the party for Phuket!" Jungwoo shouts in the background, mispronouncing the first syllable deliberately to sound like fuck it.

"Have someone you're missing tonight, too?" Your tease lands with a thud, watching your best friend's mouth crease at the corner as he chews his lip. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude–"

"No," he says. "I know how you feel."

"How far away is Paris?" you ask, not expecting an answer.

"5 hours," Jaehyun says, grinning slightly. It's a callback to so many months of watching him stare out towards the airport from the school rooftop with you, letting you listen while he mused on what she might be doing at that hour, how long it would take to get there. 

You'd encouraged him even as your heart broke–feeling the dwindling embers of a schoolgirl crush on him turn to ash. You would never be as good as his childhood love, even if you had taken up her place as his companion seated beside him on the piano bench when he practiced, or studying beside him as he drifted off into one of his many naps.

It was better this way–more comfortable just being able to be with him without the worry that you could live up to her, your heroine in highschool. But there would always be something there.

Doyoung clambers out to sit beside you, far enough away not to dampen the fuschia Versace metal mesh minidress he'd gifted you earlier. It was the perfect costume to play the part of nouveau riche jetsetter for a girl who lived one step up from a basement apartment. 

No one would mistake you for class, or even an influencer, but in their company no one was looking at you anyway. Most people thought you were Doyoung’s assistant or Jungwoo’s sister. The nasty looks, sometimes worse, always followed when they introduced you as their friend.  

"What can we do to make this a magical night?" Doyoung asks. You find yourself unable to answer, eyes caught on the smooth definition of his chest through the barely buttoned translucent shirt he'd worn out. You note he's lost the matching loose tie, probably still wrapped around a girl's neck on the dance floor.

"It's already so nice," you say, looking up at the blink of stars through the light pollution. "Thank you for including me." 

"You think we'd leave you behind?" 

The way he says you carries all sorts of strange subtext, considering your history. It had been a long journey from being mercilessly bullied and shoved into the dirt you came from, as Johnny had called it, to here. The lap of luxury, attended to by three specimens of wealth and privilege so out of your league you may as well be batting a thousand.

"Well it’s not like I got you in the divorce," you say, knot twisting in your chest. "I guess even now it’s hard to tell if you’re just being nice to me because you feel bad for me."

"First of all, he left all of us," Doyoung corrects. His voice is a little raspy, as if he's controlling his emotions. The admission leaves you questioning. You knew how close they were but they'd never shown any sign of being affected by Johnny's sudden departure.

Maybe you'd just been too busy wallowing to notice. 

“Second, you’re special. Too special to let just anyone play with. If you hadn’t noticed, we enjoy your company.”

"And when have we ever done something nice?" Jungwoo rests his arms on your knees, almost pulling you into the water. Jaehyun pushes him back with his foot, earning a tug on his leg that does little to move his immovable weight. 

"You're a package deal, though. Like a blend," you raise your mostly empty glass to drive your horrible attempt at a metaphor to death. “Even with one ingredient missing you can’t beat the original.”

“Well I won’t deny you're a strange substitute,” Doyoung says, gracefully using your words to make his point. It reminds you of how he’d spent hours drilling you with details of tea ceremony when your ridiculous coworker had asked for a demonstration of his family’s heritage business. 

“But taste requires innovation, and it’s often the unexpected addition that changes the entire flavor profile. You’re new but you’re refreshing, and unique. Not something to be discarded because anyone demands it.”

“That’s a very poetic way of saying you still like me even if I’m an uncultured pain in the ass.”

"Poor little weed," Jungwoo says, hands splaying over your bare thighs before Jaehyun can foist him off again. “Are you insulting Doyoung’s taste? You're the first girl any of us have agreed on."

"I doubt that considering what I saw last Friday. Did all of you sleep in Doyoung's room or did you take turns–"

You catch Jungwoo's scheming look with Jaehyun right before the cocktail glass is plucked from your hand and you're picked up on both sides, Jaehyun lifting you by the waist and Jungwoo taking over once you're free of the edge.

"Let me go," you shriek, folding over his shoulder. 

"Are you sure?" Jungwoo bends his knees until your hem is submerged, not phased as you beat on his back with soft hits.

"At least toss me in so you can get a head start," you threaten. He indulges you, lifting you up out of the water like he's going to help you recreate that pivotal scene from Dirty Dancing only to throw you back and into the deep end. 

You hold yourself in a ball and sink, breath held, channeling your best hello darkness my old friend as you wait for the inevitable. It takes less than ten seconds before Jaehyun dives in after you, pulling you up.

“Got you,” you say, grinning through the trickles of warm water. Jaehyun looks less than amused, lips thinning into a tight line as water drips from his bleached blond hair.

"Don't scare us like that," Doyoung gripes, joining you a few seconds too late. You shoot him and Jungwoo a look over your perch on Jaehyun's arm, clinging to him for comfort.

“Yeah, please.” Jaehyun breathes. 

"Is my makeup coming off?" you ask. He's been staring at you funnily as you float beside him, bodies brushed up in the expansion of his clothing and the occasional contact with his frame.

"What?" Your best friend sounds dazed, water collecting in his dimples as he smiles softly.

"What?" You parrot, teasing, mirroring him in the way your eyes dart to his mouth, not surprised to find his lip trembling. His uplit face is shadowed with hidden feelings you can only guess at. 

That years-old urge to kiss him returns. It could be considered revenge for back when he'd grabbed you and given you a taste of what it would be like that day after he’d come back from his trip abroad. You'd melted into him like it was the most natural thing in the world, the illusion only broken when Johnny had slammed the rooftop door shut on the way back down, flowers for whatever apology he'd half-assed scattered across the dirty tar paper.

You'd slapped him afterwards, surprised to find him smiling. He's in love with you, isn't he? Had to be sure.

There'd been so many times after that he'd played with your feelings you'd lost count, but one constant remained: he would never pursue you fully if he believed it would hurt his best friend.

Your chest feels tight just imagining what might have been, had you changed course back then. But you've long given up dwelling on might have beens.

Jaehyun is less mercurial now that he's older so you’re the one to catch him by surprise, lips pressing to his cheek right beside his mouth–in the smile lines you know too well. It's a quick send-off before Jungwoo can grab his legs and pull him under from below. 

Doyoung takes the opportunity to capture you by the waist, keeping you from becoming a casualty of their underwater fight. He looks just as serious as always, even without his usual glasses.

"Sorry about the dress," you say, working to stay afloat.

He laughs at you, prone to condescension as always. "If you like it we can get you another. But do you really want to wear the same thing twice?"

"Some of us can't replace our wardrobe every week," you huff. 

"Are you under the impression I'm replacing a bespoke suit collection every week? All I'm saying is you should have a new dress for every occasion. Especially if you're with us."

You jab him in the side, surprised at the hardness of his ribs but also delighted by his startled wheeze. 

"I'm not your kept woman."

"Not even if we want to keep you to ourselves?" 

A little shiver runs through you, making eye contact with him as he mouths the waterline. It's said so innocently but you know better. He and Woo had been dropping double entendres since well before takeoff from Seoul.

Flirting was Jungwoo's thing, a silver lining to the dark shadow of a personality that enjoyed being subtly in control. As the future heir to a crime syndicate it was much better than experiencing his hidden anger. Doyoung though . . . as much as he dabbled in shadier scenes and pretended to be a womanizer he's old-old-old money, from a strata inaccessible to anyone who's genealogy can't be traced back to the Goryeo dynasty. 

The idea of him folding you into his life, much less keeping you, is absurd.

“Well that does seem to go against the whole idea of this being a trip to finally get over . . . everything,” you say, deflecting from his intensity. “What happened to letting me live like the F4 for one week?”

“Is this not it?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“What if I want you to play wingman for me? Find me something meaningless to distract me?”

You're not expecting the dark storm that settles over his refined features.

“I think you have enough distractions here to keep you occupied.”

Your pulse picks up, hearing the hidden message loud and clear. He'd heard your laments to Jungwoo about how long it had been since you even thought about being with someone else, how you'd never really gotten to date after three brutal years of school, work, and accidentally making the worst chaebol tyrant in Seoul fall for you. 

Now that you're free for the first time in your adult life, you want to experience what it's like to be just another girl, like the ones they so frequently invited to their tables at function and club alike.

"Are you insinuating you're not going to let me bring anyone back if I find a fling? After I just spent all night singing your praises to a healthy pool of candidates? Double standard, much?"

Doyoung wraps an arm around you to keep your head from knocking against the tiled pool edge. He's backed you into it without you even noticing it. 

"You can try," he says, gripping the wall next to your cheek. "Though I would question the sanity and intelligence of anyone who took you up on it." 

There's his brand of cruelty: casual threats delivered without a hint of remorse. You'd been on the receiving end, perhaps were now, but you're not afraid of him in the slightest.

"You're not reporting all of this to him, are you?" 

Doyoung doesn't answer, nostrils flaring. 

"Or is he only texting 'Woo back?" you ask. 

"Who texted me?" Jungwoo asks with open curiosity behind him. 

Doyoung presses a single finger to your lips in warning, releasing you. 

"Didn't you get the number of that model? Miss Thailand 2016 runner-up?" You toss your head slightly to clear it, still feeling heat suffuse your cheeks from just a touch against your mouth. It really had been too long. 

"Oh she's too good for me," Jungwoo remarks, jokingly. "Besides, I already have a failed beauty queen right here." 

You snort. “In what world is second place a failure when it’s your first time?”

The contest had just been a university charity project but you'd worked hard to earn that spot after Johnny had entered you in as some kind of sick game from abroad. Jungwoo had helped you conquer it–had even got you a side gig modeling when his usual partner had dropped out at the last minute at one of his shoots. You’d just been there to deliver coffee and now you were on a cover being printed in 15 different countries. 

You always liked reminding Jungwoo of his Pygmalion moment because that's when you'd genuinely seen his kinder side–even if you suspected he may have threatened at least two of the judges to land you on the final stage. Losing had been worth it to spend time with the member of the F4 you’d never been close to in high school. 

"Maybe she doesn't deserve you," you say, swimming around him to grab him loosely around the shoulders. “Not many can appreciate having a personal rescue dog to save them from getting wrinkly fingers.”

You're immediately indulged, Jungwoo paddling you back to the shallow end where Jaehyun is lost in thought, staring at white blossoms from one of the trees in the courtyard floating in front of him. Doyoung is just as contemplative. 

It’s probably best to not let it stretch out any longer–you were always a fan of ripping the bandage off quickly even if it hurt. 

"I'm going to go take a shower and call it a night." You announce, hearing Jungwoo groan. "Unless . . ."

"Unless what?" Jungwoo perks. Jaehyun squints up at you where you stand over him. You look at Doyoung instead, as he drags himself out of the water to sit on the ledge beside the stairs.

"Unless you tell me what we really are."

The buzz of cicadas seems to die a little, soft music inside the house drifting out through the glass. 

"Friends, hopefully?" Jungwoo says.

"Well you aren't bullying me anymore, so yes. But friends don't keep their friends from moving on from past relationships."

"That's not at all—" Doyoung begins.

"Let me finish," you interrupt. He's immediately quiet, throat bobbing as he looks beside you at Jaehyun's taut shoulders.

"I'll never fit in with you or your world but we both stopped judging each other for that a long time ago, I think. I like spending time with you, I like knowing you'll still include me even if . . . " You can't bring yourself to say Johnny's name. "Even if I'm just another ghost who's outstayed her welcome."

It was their term for dropped flings and casual encounters, with a whole subset of terminology for the ones who couldn't get the hint (poltergeist), or lost their cool at their dismissal by screaming and crying (banshees). 

It hadn't been like that for you even the second or fifth time Johnny had broken up with you–always for reasons out of your control. You'd shown him the same aggression and cruelty in answer, but you’d never begged for him to take you back, ever, and you certainly had never sought out his friends. 

It had always been their prerogative to spend time with you, and you’d leaned into it your freshman year of university study and singlehood, wanting the support network denied you by being alone and poor in a city you could barely afford. You’d never take their money but you had accepted their company, and had enjoyed it far more than you could have imagined. 

Even if it kept you in Johnny Suh’s outer orbit, what you had with them meant something to you. You didn’t want to lose it when he came back. From the press releases about his recent promotion, it would seem to be soon.

Waiting for that inevitability is like attending your own funeral before you’re dead, pallbearers for company. 

"You're not a ghost," Jaehyun says. "And we won't abandon you, ever."

"You'll just keep me and this dynamic trapped in amber until Johnny changes his mind, then? It's been a year already. I don't want to lose any more of my youth to him, and I don't want to lose you when he comes back and you all act like he's done nothing wrong."

"That won't happen," Doyoung says, sighing. 

"No, because I'll leave before then." You get out of the water, brushing your face free of the hot tears. "Wouldn't want to ruin your fun."

Jaehyun pulls you back, strong enough you lose your footing and sink into his submerged lap. 

"You're not going anywhere," he says. There's no malice or anger in his tone, just quiet assurance. He cleans your face again, blue silk cuff coming away black with mascara. 

"You asked what we are. Remember when you used to come sit next to me under that stupid ad?" 

"Yeah?" you sniff. You'd spent hours with him sitting on a city bench as he stared up at a billboard for luxury clothing with her face on it. She’d been the dream he chased at your urging, the fantasy that had sadly broken with proximity.

"When I was in France, after things became clear, I would go and sit somewhere and pretend like you were there with me."

"I hope it was somewhere fun, like the Louvre," you joke. 

"Too crowded." He shakes his head, smirking. "Would look weird talking to myself."

"Oh you talked to invisible me but you couldn't pick up the phone once?"

He shakes his head again, squeezing you. 

"Anyway. The point is you're stuck with me. And them."

"And Johnny . . .?" 

"Stop bringing up our ex," Doyoung says. Not your ex, our ex. 

"It's a valid concern," you say, adjusting in Jaehyun's hold to rest your head against his damp shoulder. "I'm not going back to him. And I know you'll choose him over anyone else."

"No," Jaehyun says. 

"You're the exception." 

You lift your head to blink up at Doyoung.

"Didn't think you made those."

"Well you just haven't spent enough time with me, then."

"You planning on spending time with me?" You smile lazily, hand drifting to squeeze his leg. It's always fun to see his unflappable face twitch.

"He already blocked off half his itinerary for private tours. Jaehyun had to fight him to split it equally," Jungwoo says. Doyoung splashes water into his face with his foot.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says sourly. 

"Like the massage tomorrow morning?" 

This time Doyoung's kick makes waves wash over you and Jaehyun, leaving you spluttering.

Jungwoo takes it, smiling once his floppy brown hair is pushed back out of his eyes again. He grins at you from the water. "You'll take your dog for a walk when you remember I exist, right?" 

"Why not just come with us?" You'd often wondered if there was an invisible tether for how often they appeared together.

Doyoung clears his throat, Jaehyun shifting uncomfortably under you. 

"What am I missing?" You laugh awkwardly, looking between them. 

"I forget the only man you've ever dated never dated anyone seriously, either." Doyoung looks somewhat pleased with himself. "Traditionally when you spend time with someone you're interested in you don't have company–"

Shock runs through you like ice dumped over your head. "You can't be serious."

Doyoung's face is incredibly serious, Jaehyun's proving only a little more relaxed about the disclosure. You turn around to Jungwoo, floating nearby with a humored expression. 

"You're not part of this are you, 'Woo?"

"Of course I am. You deserve a break from stuffy museums and romantic dinners to have some real fun."

His eyebrows lower a bit in some sinister joke, and for the first time a little fear courses through you. It's been a long time since you saw their manipulative and controlling side, but bringing you to a foreign country to date you, their best friend’s ex, without telling you . . . That's a whole new level of it.

"This isn't a competition, is it?" You hide the tremor in your voice. 

"Between us? Of course it is," Jungwoo says.

"And the terms?" You look at Jaehyun, who is unable to meet your gaze. "Let me guess, whoever fucks me first?" 

His eyes widen in genuine dismay, panicking. "No, of course not–we just wanted to give you a chance to decide if . . ."

"If what?" 

"If you liked one of us more than the others," Doyoung finishes for him. 

You find yourself breathing heavily, face flushed. 

"What if I can't choose?" You ask, gaze fixing on Jaehyun's mouth as he bites his lip, still looking guilty. 

"If you decide you don't want to be with any of us, then things stay the same. Nothing changes. We'll still be friends." He says it all slowly, deliberately, almost as if it’s rehearsed.

"And if I choose one of you? Do I get to suffer the jealousy complex of another deeply insecure and emotionally unavailable man?"

That hits them where it counts. They'd all watched Johnny take out his fears on you, masked under bravado, posturing for an audience that more often than not was just you and his friends. His peers had rarely done the same, unless you counted Jungwoo following his enforcement orders like a loyal hound or Doyoung orchestrating clean-ups. 

No, they'd skated clean through multiple horrorshows by simply being there to throw their weight. No one else had the notoriety and resources to cover up the trail of damage left in Suh's wake.

You stand up again, turning between them. "And none of you are worried about Johnny finding out?"

A lump forms in your throat, bitterness about even having to invoke your own personal demon. Yes he'd walked away, but you knew his sense of entitlement would never allow his interests to be compromised by another–especially his closest companions.

And here they are, looking between each other and discussing your fate with the deliberate calm of a business transaction.

Apparently the only consequences were for you.

"Or is that the real game you're playing here," you ask. "Degrade me so far in his eyes he'll want nothing to do with me while you write me off as disloyal trash."

Jaehyun sucks his breath in through his teeth, and you note how hurt he looks. Jungwoo seems even more upset, full bottom lip jutting out.

"I know what you've been through, and I know it will be a long time to forget," Doyoung says. "But we're not him."

You remember an old saying your father had taught you: when you're holding a hammer everything looks like a nail. Better applied to problem-solving perhaps, but you'd also been dealing with one, giant nail-shaped problem since he'd crashed into your life. It was stuck in your heart and time and healing hadn't removed it. Maybe it was permanent, but you still had to live with it. 

"I just don't understand how you think you think this will work."

"You're awfully concerned about what he thinks," Jungwoo says, rising over you. "What about moving on?" 

"I don't give a fuck what he thinks. I'm just looking out for you. You know he'll punch first and ask questions later. What if he does something reckless?"

Jungwoo is laughing at you through closed lips, eyes crescented in mirth. "We have you to protect us, right? Just roundhouse kick him in the face again."

“That was lucky,” you say. “He wasn’t trying to murder me, either. There’s probably an American hitman on his way right now to take us all out and make it look like an accident.” 

“He would definitely hire locally,” Jungwoo corrects you. 

“And here I thought you were braver than that,” Doyoung muses. “Do you think we need his permission? You certainly don't.”

That makes you pause. You look at Jaehyun. Of all the people in the world he was the closest to their former leader. They’d fought even more than he and you had, and Jaehyun had always conceded, taking it on the chin, letting Johnny drag him along in his wake. The one time he'd stood up to him had been for you and it had almost fractured everything irreparably.

His black eyes pierce into you when he looks up. 

“I think y/n can make any decision she wants to,” he says dangerously. “None of us will stand in your way, whatever you choose.” 

“You promise?” you ask, tilting your head to let your wet hair brush over your bare shoulder. 

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Jungwoo says. 

You wait for the others to show visual signs of concession: Jaehyun nodding, Doyoung making the sign of the cross in what is an obvious misuse of the gesture. 

“Good. Because if Johnny finds out what I’m doing on this trip, he’s not the only one who will kill you.”

"I think we should start enacting a punishment whenever she brings him up again," Doyoung says.

"Great idea," Jungwoo says, sweeping you into his wet hold from behind. The chill you'd been feeling exposed to the air dissipates a little, his warm chest against your bare shoulders. You shiver a little at the intimacy, feeling him laugh even if he doesn’t make a sound.

“What will it be?” Doyoung defers to Jaehyun.

He leans back . “She does something to distract herself.”

You purse your lips together, affecting an air of deep thought. "My choice?"

"Always," he says, not breaking eye contact. 

"Rock, paper, scissors, then." You nod at him. He grins, Doyoung groans. Jungwoo's long arms wrap around your waist, hands already in position. 

"Surely there's a better way we could eliminate your options," Doyoung says, almost missing the cue and throwing paper to the other two's scissors. 

"Better luck next time," you tease.

"Kiss it for luck." The back of Jungwoo's hand presses to your mouth moments before Jaehyun initiates. 

Jungwoo loses the second quick round after a draw, crushed by Jaehyun's rock. 

"I should have known you were cursed." Jungwoo pouts, not letting you free until you've ducked back into the water to escape him. You give him a wink as you swim towards the stairs, emerging between Jaehyun's spread legs before he can close them. 

"What are you doing?" he asks, warily, still leaned back against the last stair.

"What I want," you say, blinking drops from your lashes. You move weightlessly on to his thighs, grabbing his soft face in your hands. He's unable to process what's happening quickly enough to respond as you tilt his face up and press a gentle kiss to his parted mouth. 

You ignore Jungwoo's wolf-whistle in the background, partially aware Doyoung has shifted nearby the moment you'd slid into your friend's lap. All that is noise as the gentle sound of the water feature drowns the startled sound you make when you're grabbed and pulled back to Jaehyun's mouth. 

This time it's real: solid and delicious as he crushes against you, tongue sliding across the seam of your lips until you let go of your held breath to softly exhale into his. Small dips of his chin coax you into opening for him, your hands threading into his hair to anticipate his movements as he kisses you like it's the last time in his life he'll ever get the chance. 

"That's enough," Doyoung says, Jungwoo booing him. 

The other two may as well not exist, your thumbs circling Jaehyun's cheekbones as you retreat to inspect the damage. He's usually so composed it feels like peering into a different universe's version of him, rapture and satisfaction warring with concern in his expression. 

"Thank you," you whisper. His eyes focus again, teeth exposed as he tongues them. 

"Any time," he says. It's funny how instantly he regrets the word choice, the pink in his ears and cheeks deepening.

"Not thinking about you-know-who now, are you?" Jungwoo asks, right behind you. 

"No," you say. "But I suspect you wish I'd say yes if only for the consequences."

"That was hot," he admits. "But I don't typically like my prospects thinking about other men." 

"Can I tell you a secret?" You crook your finger, clutching on to Jungwoo's wet patterned shirt when he leans down far enough to be in range. 

"I only made you play for it so we could find out who goes first." You say it in his ear, letting your mouth drag against the shell.

He pulls back, hesitant, nose brushing against your cheek. 

"Really?" 

"Kiss me and find out," you offer. 

He doesn't wait, lashes against his cheeks as he meets you halfway, tilting your head to the side for full exploration of your lips. He's much gentler than you expected, shy almost, tender even when your tongue meets his and you can taste the hint of sticky mango rice you'd had for dessert earlier. 

"Good boy," you say once you've broken free. He smiles in the way you're used to the most, right side of his face crooking with an edge of deviousness.

You turn to find Jaehyun watching, eyes starry with arousal but unreadable. Doyoung is on his feet as if he's preparing his exit, expression stony. 

"Is something wrong?" you ask, meeting his calculating stare.

Doyoung opens and shuts his mouth, water pooling at his feet. 

"Not enough punishment for you?" There's an edge to your voice that you recognize as the tone you'd used many times before, in your idiotic quest to tame one of his own. 

The tension breaks when Doyoung laughs softly, crouching down and crooking his finger. You wade up the steps to meet him, hyper aware of the drag of eyes on you as you emerge from the water, dress clinging to your skin. 

"I planned out such a nice trip for you, and this is what you really want?" Doyoung asks, eyes traveling down your body and back to your face in the kind of assessment that you'd seen other people wither under. 

"Why do you think I agreed to come?"

“Noted.”

He nods, slightly, but makes no move to take what you'd already given the others. You don't let it dissuade you, fingers digging into the hard line of his shoulders to press your lips to his. 

It's like kissing a statue. A challenge you're willing to meet as you delve further, rocking him back on his heels. You pry open his mouth with gentle bites and licks between each kiss, past his perfect teeth until you can explore his tongue with your own. You don't realize your hands are fisted in his wet hair until you're done, finding him collapsed on the wet cement, panting. 

"Was that sufficient punishment?" you ask.

"For you? Absolutely not," Doyoung says, the rare full smile gracing his kiss-swollen mouth. "For them? Yes."

You glance back at your other two companions, clocking that they're both nearer than you remembered. Jaehyun's hand drifts over your hip, as if he's questioning letting you go in the first place. 

"Should we set some rules? Or are you all going to take them as an excuse to break them?"

Jungwoo chuckles. 

"No competition. Equal time, equal attention. And no possessiveness," you state. Doyoung looks up from under his brows with amusement, clearly enjoying your groundless attempt to set boundaries. 

"I don't care what you throw at me as long as you don't walk back what you said about our friendship."

"I think we're something different now," Jaehyun says, voice cracking.

"I know," you say. You run a hand over his head, feeling his temple come to rest against your waist. "But you crossed that line first. I'm just saving you the trouble of playing some silly game to come on to me. I'm not a prize to win. I'm a person who knows you all better than you think."

You turn to Doyoung again, holding your ground. "You said you'd give me the true F4 experience."

"Within reason," he demures. 

"Then lose your hangups and let me have a taste of what it's like to be just one of those girls you have no problem with having fun with. No special treatment, no regrets."

The stunned silence has you feeling a twinge of embarrassment at pushing your agenda this far.

"Impossible," Jungwoo answers. 

"Why not?"

He pulls the hair away from your neck to kiss beneath your ear. Gooseflesh appears on your arms even in the warm air, anticipating his answer, but he's too occupied with trailing his mouth down, sucking lightly over your pulse. You feel dizzy, hand reaching back to hold his head to you.

Once he's had enough of watching you unravel Doyoung jerks you forward, grip tight around your wrist.

It's a familiar gesture, a reminder you are at their mercy. He cuffs his hand around your neck like he's going in for another kiss, stopping at a few inches. 

"You don't get to set all the rules. This one especially. You are not just some girl with whom we engage in forgettable, inconsequential relations."

He pauses, eyes darting to your mouth before meeting yours again. "If we go down this path you're getting the real thing. All of it."

"We know you have experience." Jungwoo adds. 

Oh you knew. They fucked around but they were careful about it, always gentlemen, always above board. NDAs in some cases, mostly for Doyoung. You didn’t know all of their specific proclivities outside of Jungwoo exclusively chasing women a generation older but you suspected whatever they enjoyed was much less wholesome. 

Like Johnny's needs once he'd finally had you. He'd bent that way and much, much more. The difference was he'd never been as precious with you as they were with their little conquests.

If they didn't want the safety of a legal cushion it didn't mean they didn't need it–they just didn't think it would be a problem.

"I'm sure you've heard a lot of things about me," you say. A whisper of rage underlies the words, colored by so many rumors foisted on you well before you'd ever accepted their company–even more when they had. 

Whore. Cockslut. Used goods.

Johnny had always been a contradiction–surprisingly prudish about sex but quick to use the grossest allusions to it when pressed for details by his friends, liberal in his name calling. They'd known him since childhood–they didn't believe him, even if everyone else had taken his words as gospel. You'd had your revenge by proving just how true those words could be in private.

"We don't know anything you don't," Jaehyun says, quickly. 

"Still, I don't think you know what you're signing up for," you say. "If anyone is using anyone in this arrangement, it's going to be me. Or I'm out."

"You worried we can't show you a good time?" Jungwoo asks. It's a funny question with him pressed into your back like he'll push your head down into the water if you answer incorrectly.

"I'm worried you'll chicken out," you say, grabbing Doyoung's wrist to keep his fingers on you, covering them with yours to increase the tension. You'd always been strong.

Doyoung's expression is matched by his lingering hold on your throat, squeezing a little and making your eyes drift shut in pleasure.

"You always did seem to enjoy the humiliation a little more than our other targets. Can't say it wasn't an encouraging factor. You like it, don't you?"

He lets you go with a slight push, registering the way your eyes haze over with reflected lust.

"Yeah. Blame a few formative years of getting my signals crossed. Just part of the damage." There's no shame in your voice, another casualty of their efforts.

"You're not damaged," Jaehyun remarks.

"Not beyond repair," you agree, gaze burning into Doyoung's. His regard is a thousand times more revealing than a kiss, most especially the tic in his cheek every time Jungwoo decides to leave a mark with his tongue and teeth on your throat and you reward him with a moan.

"Should be fun seeing which one of us can push past your comfort zone, then," Jungwoo says, breath cooling the last bruise he's left on the back of your neck. "Find out if you have one."

"You're not dropping the competition?" 

Nervous anticipation gives you butterflies, different than the ones springing up being teased by the three of them. Not one of them accepted being outclassed.

"No." Jaehyun says it well before the others. His hands drop to your legs to hold you steady as Jungwoo continues his assault on your neck. "But equal opportunity. I think we can all agree on that."

"Don't worry, we'll play fair," Jungwoo says, biting your shoulder. You jerk in his grasp, vaguely aware of fingers at your hem. Doyoung continues to watch, tongue darting over his lips.

"I hope not," you say. "I won't."

It's all the permission your captors need.

Your breath stutters as Jaehyun's hand slides up your inner thigh, circling the wet skin absent-mindedly. You whine a little, teased by the first intimate touch you've had in months.

"You better stay quiet. We do have neighbors," Doyoung says, voice pitched low.

"Think you can shut me up?"

He takes the hint, sliding his legs back over the ledge, letting you finish unbuttoning his shirt to expose his creamy skin. You spread your fingers over his firm abdomen, flicking aside the sheer fabric. He's intoxicatingly sensitive, muscles tensing as you follow the path of water down his long waist.

"You sure you want to play this game?" Doyoung asks, hand resting on your shaking fingers as you struggle to unbutton his damp jeans.

You look down at Jaehyun, smiling at him when you find he's still enraptured by your upper thighs. You wait until he looks back up, head cocked for permission.

"You alright with sharing me, tonight?"

Miles are crossed, bridges are burned as he contemplates the ask, returning to his shy efforts at warming your naked skin, lifting your hem to dangerous territory.

"Wouldn't dare stand in your way."

Jaehyun's approval is the best thing you've seen in a long time, even more so when he adjusts to be eye level with your now exposed underwear, back pressed to Doyoung's leg. 

Jungwoo tugs at the strap of your dress playfully. 

"Can puppy wait his turn?" you ask, looking up at your other torturer. 

Jungwoo kisses you over your shoulder, messily, before casually breaking one of the thin straps of your dress where it's attached to the delicate gold cherub adornment. The night air pebbles your skin, exposed nipple hardening more as he trails a fingertip lazily around it.

"As long as you need." 

He angles you down a bit towards the other man, just as Jaehyun's mouth finds you through the thin fabric of your lingerie–hot and perfect. Your knees are already weak and you have to catch yourself on Doyoung's thighs as you're touched and kissed and licked, still partially submerged and torn between warm and warmer.

There's a bit of menace in Doyoung's face, watching you unzip and find his length. He adjusts a little when you tug down the elastic waistband of his underwear, his cock already mostly erect despite the water. He's not as big as Johnny but perfectly sized, long and veined as he hardens in your hand. 

You experiment with laves of your tongue against his flushed head, watching him for a reaction through your lashes.

"Sucking me off before I can even take you on a proper date." He tsks, the sound changing when you lower your head, tongue folding around his tip to devour him whole. 

"You look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says. "Wish I could take a picture–"

You cut him short by taking him deeper, feeling him press at the back of your mouth. It's been awhile since you tested your gag reflex.

Thankfully Jaehyun has compromised on watching you while pushing your underwear into your sticky folds, Jungwoo playing with your breasts in the most maddening way possible with soft flicks and tugs. 

Both of them are sending you skyrocketing to a level of joy yet unexperienced this lifetime, much less this year. You have to concentrate on Doyoung to keep from falling apart too quickly.

Jungwoo's long fingers help clear your hair from your face so you can breathe, giving them all a better view as you choke, letting drool slip from your mouth as you take it deep and hard. 

The noises coming from your throat are nowhere near as obscene as the sounds Doyoung makes, angled back and thrusting weakly with each moan. You always thought his voice was beautiful, scratchy and breathy, but hearing him say your name in between gasps has your entire body enflamed. 

"Fuck, you're good," Doyoung says quietly, angled back on his elbows. 

Jungwoo holds your damp hair back, wrapping it in his fist to help guide you more gently. You relax your throat and take it, tears leaking from your eyes. If touch had you vibrating before, the sensation of being debased in this way has you dripping, your arousal exposed by Jaehyun's fingers slipping your panties down to the water.

"She's soaked," he says, running a single finger through your folds. You answer with a groan, other hand in his hair to hold him back before he can dip in again.

Jungwoo tests you, too, giving you a few swipes to collect your slick. He brings his fingertips to your mouth when you finally take a breath, letting you clean them.

It's delightful how Doyoung is unraveling already, arched back, eyes glassy. He drinks in the sight of you sucking two of Jungwoo's fingers until your cheeks hollow.

"You think you can finish what you started?" you ask.

"I don't think I'll ever want it to end," he admits.

"How about coming on my tongue?" You ask, pumping him slowly. You chase the taste of yourself with kitten licks of the beads of white on his head, going lower to trace his veins. 

"Only if you want to swallow everyone tonight," Doyoung says. The offer is tempting. You hesitate long enough that he reads you like an open book, adding an edge of threat. "Or do you want to be stuffed like the little whore you are?"

The affectation has you seizing up in long-withheld gratification. Jungwoo grinds against your ass as Jaehyun ignores your hold to finally lick long paths up your inner thighs, chasing trails of slippery arousal and water to dive in, fingers spreading your legs wide.

It's impossible to find a retort, sinking back into Jungwoo's embrace as you're attacked from below.

"I think you should only fuck me if you can make me come," you counter. "And it's still Jaehyun's turn–"

Your words are punctuated by a cry, Jungwoo's hand clapped over your mouth as Jaehyun pumps into you with two fingers, hooking into your g-spot.

"Ooh," Jungwoo says over your head. "Guess you'll have to wait." 

Doyoung sighs, taking over with his hand when you're bodily dragged back, Jungwoo lifting your dress to take it off. 

"Leave it on," Doyoung says. "The ravaged look suits her." 

You shoot him a look, unable to maintain your expression when Jaehyun's mouth works likes he's devouring you in turn, teeth scraping as he explores every inch of you, teasing your clit with darts of his tongue. Jungwoo frees your mouth to let you breathe, babbled words of praise spilling from you in between small cries.

"So good, so right, god, fuck–fuck." You're inarticulate as Jaehyun pumps his fingers slowly, spreading you and pressing right below his languid tongueing. Jungwoo's attention returns to your sensitive breasts, gently twisting each bud between his fingertips. 

"Keep it down," Doyoung warns, but it's impossible. 

Electric tingles spread down to your toes, tipped against the smooth pool floor. You let yourself relax in Jungwoo's hold, curling over your lover's head. Jaehyun is incredibly careful with you even as you're brought deeper, water lapping at his collarbones as he holds you spread and licks you in broad swaths. 

"Need a hand?" Jungwoo asks, somehow catching Jaehyun's nod mid-effort. You're unmoored by the hand that slips in from behind, fingers curling into you shallowly, water lapping your immersed buttocks. Jaehyun gives up control but he's still also buried in you, drawing wetness out of you with each stroke of his fingers.

Jungwoo matches his speed, knuckle to knuckle, as Jaehyun moves up to apply pressure to your clit again. 

"You two can get her ready. I want her after she's been used," Jungwoo says. 

"Of course you do," Doyoung says, dropping back in the water, demanding your attention. You indulge him with your hand, pumping him loosely beneath the surface. It's hard to coordinate as Jungwoo's hand fucks you into the pressure of Jaehyun's grip tight on your upper thighs, each circle of his tongue on your clit making your vision shimmer. 

"She's so close. Bet we can make her squirt." 

"No," you say, automatically self-conscious. 

"Did you hear that? She thinks she has a choice." The heel of Jungwoo's palm smacks wetly against your ass as he finger-fucks you, already too much before Jaehyun seems to pull you towards him, pressing hard into your walls. It's unlike anything you've ever felt, completely at their mercy as Jaehyun applies suction to your clit to bring you to the brink. 

"Come for us," Doyoung says. He's pressed to your side, rutting against your waist while taking your mouth to keep the shriek building inside your throat muffled.

There's no controlling the powerful waves tearing through your core, your legs shaking and buckling as the orgasm begins and doesn't seem to end, torn from you between all three of them. A hot gush of liquid coats your thighs as you throb around their fingers, pleasure morphing into pain until you're begging for them to stop. 

Jaehyun is the first to let you go, rising to share your release with a crushing kiss that takes your breath away, Jungwoo's fingers still reaching deep inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwoo says. "Was that your first time?"

You nod, cheeks hot, forehead pressed to Jaehyun's. You cling to him, still not quite down to earth from your climax. 

"Thank you," Jaehyun says, laughing slightly. "Was that too intense?"

"No," you shake your head. "Just hold me, please."

"Forever," he says, lifting you to straddle his hips. He manages the stairs to collapse on the deck, wrapping you tight in his arms as you kiss him deeply, cleaning his face of your release with gentle swipes of your fingers.

"You sure you don't want to go inside?" he asks, when you begin to unwrap him from his shirt. 

"I need you so much," you say. "I can't wait another moment."

He grins, shyly, kissing you as you help him out of his undershirt to reveal his swimmer's frame, triangular torso buckling into visible abdominal muscles. He's breath-taking, even more beautiful when you help him out of his pants and underwear to find his thighs flexed beneath his hard cock, shorter but thicker and so perfectly full and ready for you to sink down on. 

He doesn't question taking you raw–brow furrowing in concentration as you adjust to his girth slowly.

"We'll do this without an audience soon," you whisper, hoping he can still hear you as he bottoms out in your heat and his eyes flutter shut. 

"Yeah," he says, breathily. He's not moving, soaking in the sensation of having you completely wrapped around him. "I couldn't wait, either. You feel just as perfect as I imagined."

"So good," you assure him, moving for him. The lingering effects of coming harder than you think you ever have in your life aren't stopping you from bearing down on him, taking him harder and deeper with his wide shoulders for leverage. 

"Fuck, baby," Jaehyun growls. "I'm not gonna last like this."

He takes control with a firm grasp on your waist, pumping up into you. Soon he's bouncing you mercilessly into his hips, laid back on his wet clothes.

You haven't forgotten about the other two men, not when Doyoung's kneeled behind you, straddling Jaehyun's legs to stroke himself against the swell of your ass. 

Jungwoo grabs your hand to wrap around his own exposed cock, letting you feel him before you can even take in the sight of him bobbing over your head. Your finger and thumb can barely connect around his shaft, length too much to fit half of it in your mouth before you know it will be in your throat. Now you understand why the screams you'd heard from his room always sounded on the borderline of pain. 

"Too much for you?" He asks, angling the velvety soft head to catch on your open lips. Jaehyun slows down his thrusts to let you ease into taking the other man, pumping Jungwoo's base as best as you can as you sloppily accept the suffocation.

"Must have had a lot of practice getting your throat fucked to take me so well," he says, angling your head to move past the back of your tongue. You can't answer so you squeeze his balls instead, applying just enough pressure with your nails to have him groaning in appreciation. 

You lose your rhythm when you feel spit drip down your back, Doyoung collecting your earlier release from your thighs and mixing it with his saliva to rub his fingers against your puckered hole.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for all of us?" he asks, pressing a digit into the ring of muscle, causing you to choke on the heavy weight in your mouth.  

Jungwoo pulls out, saliva trailing from your lips as he gives you a break to adjust. You press your forehead to the sheer tank separating you from his flat belly as you look over your shoulder.

"I can take it," you say, trying to relax. Doyoung inserts another slender finger, making you clench around him and Jaehyun until the other man is panting. 

"I didn't ask if you could take it. I asked if you were going to be good."

"Fuck me and find out," you taunt. He's not like the others–he denies you anything but the wedge of his fingers into your ass, adding a third to stretch you when you're not loose enough. 

Jaehyun fucks against the intrusion, holding out until you're closer as he twines his fingers with yours and watches you work Jungwoo's oversized cock in your mouth and hand. 

"Knew you were a little slut who wanted to have all her holes stuffed. One of us wasn't enough for you, you had to make us share. I'm the only one who gets to fuck this tight little ass, though."

Doyoung drops another gob of spit on the dimple at the base of your spine, letting it slide over the gape left when he slides out his fingers. You cry out at the first intrusion of his cock into your barely-lubed hole, fighting to stay on top of Jaehyun as he works in with shallow thrusts, inch by agonizing inch.

"Keep forcing me out," Doyoung says. "I'll just fuck you harder." 

As if to prove his point he grabs on to your ruined dress at the back, arching your spine for you and making you take him deeper. The burning pain blurs into delicious aching pleasure–you needed this more than you could have even imagined. Jaehyun grunts inarticulately, palming your breasts and squeezing them in time to the ecstatic shudders rolling through your body as you're filled. 

"Open up for me," Jungwoo says, cock back in your gaping mouth. You let him hold you by the hair to fuck into your mouth, spit and tears mixing to splash on your breasts. 

When they resume their individual efforts you feel yourself being pulled apart by sensation, only able to manage sharp breaths through your nose to keep from drowning as tears leak from your eyes and sobs rip from your throat. 

"No cumming until she creams herself on Jaehyun," Doyoung says, reaching around to press hard into your clit. It's a hard ask with how overstimulated you already are but you can feel your muscles tightening against your will. Doyoung and Jaehyun's uhhs and mms mix in your ears, Jungwoo softly praising you when your jaw relaxes to swallow him despite the rock of your body against the other two. 

"Fuck she's so tight," Jaehyun says. "I don't know if I can wait."

"Wait." Doyoung orders, picking up his pace. "She's close. Make sure she remembers to breathe."

Jungwoo groans, pulling out with a last slap of his head on your tongue, letting you lap at the precum leaking from him. "You two are useless." 

He kneels down beside you, wresting Doyoung's hand away from your sore folds and rubbing soft, tight circles around your nub. It's not the stimulation as much as his mouth on yours, kissing with as much care and intimacy as you'd felt before, that carries you to a peak again.

"Oh fuck," Jaehyun says, lifting you with a last upwards jerk of his hips and spilling inside you. The rush of warm heat is so good you chase it, overworked muscles unable to hold against the sensation and twitching powerfully around both of their cocks buried deep inside you. 

Just as quickly your knees give out, collapsing half on Jaehyun and Jungwoo. Doyoung's shallow movements turn violent as he no longer bothers to keep you locked on Jaehyun, thrusting a few more times into your throbbing heat before emptying himself and pulling out to rub the last few spurts onto your skin.

"Shh," Jungwoo says when you continue to whimper, sniffling from the tears sliding down your cheeks. "You're almost done."

You shake your head half-heartedly, clinging to his shirt. You're dizzy, adrenaline fading and leaving you boneless and blotted out.

"Please. Maybe just a breather?" you beg. "My legs . . ." 

Jaehyun lifts you, and you hiss at the raw pain of your abused knees, grit brushed away by someone else's hands.

"Poor baby." Doyoung says. "Should have done this in bed but you just couldn't wait."

"'S fine," you mumble, swimming in the glow of your last orgasm. "Bed sounds nice."

"Get a towel," Jungwoo says, and Jaehyun rushes to grab one for you. Instead of cleaning or drying you off Jungwoo carries you to the edge of the pool, slipping in and cramming the soft fabric under you as he lets your legs dangle over the edge and into the water.

"What are you doing, puppy?" You manage to ask, holding on to his neck.

"Don't worry. I'll be careful," he says, palming himself between your legs. "Someone want to keep her head up? I need her to watch." 

Jaehyun adjusts to embrace you from behind, spreading your limp legs so they can all see the steady leak of cum from your gaping holes. You hear the telltale click of a picture being taken, distantly aware Doyoung's phone is still–obviously–working.

"What . . . ?" You ask drowsily, acquiescencing to the pull of your dress over your head and off of you. You shiver deeply, warmed by the body heat of the man behind you as the other strips in front of you. 

"You're going to come for us one more time," Jungwoo says, rising out of the water to pump himself at your leaking core. "I'm not letting you go until I can wring every last drop out of you."

"Fuck," you protest, writhing as he pulls you almost off the hard deck and onto his ready length. Jaehyun holds you tight, arm under your breasts as Jungwoo slides into the mess of cum and slick between your thighs. 

"That's right, take it," Jungwoo says, pinning you against Jaehyun. "Breathe, baby." 

"Too much," you sob, finding he's not even fully sheathed when the familiar ache in your belly of being hit too deep whites out your brain. 

"You don't want your puppy?" Jungwoo can barely speak, ramming in deeper with each rock of his hips. "Don't want to be a good mommy and take all of me?" 

Jaehyun is already semi-hard against your back, and you catch Doyoung's approval before he replaces it with a feigned look of disgust, slipping into the water to watch you both. You can see his arm flex, jerking himself underwater, the other holding his phone up. 

"If we'd known you were such a whore we would have fucked you sooner. It looks like you'll need some more breaking in."

You cry out, stretched tight around the thicker root of Jungwoo's cock, letting him wrap your legs over his shoulders for maximum depth. Whatever pain you feel is so merged with the fullness and perfect hit of him against your walls that you don't mind it, you can't help but slip into a dreamy state of bliss. 

"You're doing so well," Jaehyun says into the hair at your temple. "Can't wait to treat you right. Make you come on my tongue again as many times as I can before the sun rises."

"No, no, no," you moan.

Jaehyun pinches your nipple to wake you up, Jungwoo gasping when you manage to clench around him. 

"You both got her pussy first. You should let me take her tonight. Keep her awake by fucking her as soon as she falls asleep." Doyoung threatens, pulling your leg aside to get the best angle of you being impaled and stretched fuller than you'd ever thought you could be. 

"No one's getting her if she doesn't come again," Jungwoo says. He meets your tear-filled gaze, eyes half-lidded. "Is that what you want? To fall asleep on my cock and let me warm you all night until you're ready to fuck me?"

"Please, come for me, puppy," you manage to bite out, touching yourself in earnest to try and fight back. "So big for me, fill me up."

He takes the bait–you're folded in half, legs bent to your chest as he drives in, balls slapping wetly against you. When you're pliant again he readjusts his strokes to press into your upper walls with each rotation of his hips, and for the first time in a long time you realize you're getting close on cock alone. 

Jaehyun seems to feel the change in you, grinding against your back as his hand holds your throat so you can't turn away. The pressure makes you practically feral, crying out for more. 

"Just like that, like that, please please please," you moan over the lap of the water.

"Feel you sucking me in," Jungwoo says, face flushed and sweaty over you, hair dripping water onto your curled belly. "Let go for me so I can come in you so deep you can taste it."

"Yes, yes, please." You buck with the sudden electric tingle of another climax, steady tempo leading you to softer spasms than before. It's fine if you can't tell where you're at or what you're feeling because Jungwoo can, one final snap of his hips dropping you into fucked out darkness. 

When you come to again you're wrapped around him in the pool, gasping at the sensation of his cock still slowly pumping the last of his release into you.

"Trust me," he says, hands under your backside, lowering you into water suspended between the night and the warmth below. 

Doyoung spreads a hand over your breasts, Jaehyun beside him to hold your neck like he's teaching you to float. You let your mouth fall open and your eyes clench shut, tasting pool water before one of them–Doyoung probably, by the sounds--releases thick, white stripes across your tongue. Jaehyun follows suit, cockhead nudging against the underside of your breast as he paints your torso with molten heat. 

"Fuck that was incredible," Jungwoo says, slipping out of you finally so you can sink into the water. You submerge as much as you can to lose the coat of stickiness, until Doyoung decides you're done, pulling you out and against his chest.

"That was . . . a lot," you admit, shaking against him. 

"You did so well." He soothes you with a hand on your head, clearing your hair from your face delicately to press a kiss to your forehead.  The gesture is so at odds with his recent persona that you can't resist burrowing into it, relaxing fully against his naked chest. "Not bad for an initiation."

"I'm one of you, now?" you murmur. 

"Always were," Jaehyun says. He doesn't dare take you from Doyoung but he does lean down to kiss you deeply, hand running broad circles over your spine.

"Just think of all those red cards as an invitation." Jungwoo jokes, sinking down to eye level to caress your cheek. 

You remember scraped knees and busted lips, cafeteria trays dumped on you by entire tables of jealous girls and sycophantic boys. Johnny humiliating you, ordering you to clean his shoe with his tongue when you'd taken the place of your weaker friend who'd spilled on it. 

But you also remember the small moments of acknowledgement–the way Jungwoo had lingered outside your work waiting to get off when you closed to walk you home at night, or how Doyoung had bought out the entire store when you'd used the shitty part-time job as an excuse to duck out of being his date to a formal dinner you had no business being at. 

And most of all, all those hours spent sitting beside Jaehyun in your rooftop retreat, silently appreciating the late afternoon sun turning the city brilliant as you shared one half of a wired headphone.

Maybe having your heart ripped out was worth it, if it meant having this.

"Which one of us do you want to take care of you tonight?" Doyoung asks. 

You smile into his cool skin, melting into the knowledge that you've earned a place very few had shared. You'll enjoy it as long as it can last.

"Play for it."

[lutawolf]

The Sign Commentary Review Ep 5

I'm going to link to my episode 3 commentary because I gave a lot of Thailand mythology information. While I will be watching the show for the first time now and giving you my commentary. I've been Ask a question that gave me heads up that a lot of mythology will show up in this episode. So let's go!

We start the series off with this guy who has a Naga back tat. Then we see the front with him dripping water down himself. I got to hand it to Saint, he really knows how to visually stimulate. Is he the killer?

Are we really gonna ignore that Tharn sees visions? 2. Phaya has gotten his period. I mean, I get it. Nobody wants the love of their life thinking they're crazy, but this has the hallmark of hormonal rage versus righteous anger. Maybe the lack of sleep is starting to get to him. 3. Where do we stand with the physical assault? Do we label this domestic or everyone else feeling that maybe something is off here? Like when a werewolf gets all testosterone before their first change. I mean, you can literally see the freak-out in his face after he realized he has hit Tharn. Which honestly makes me feel better.

Oh, so we now understand why Tharn saw the female and how she relates. And Yai proves once again just how special he is. He really put on that clown mask. That's just wrong.

There are two! Honestly, didn't see that coming. Ahh, well now it's more understandable why they were getting their ass kicked. It's Wit.

I mean, I'm having a hard time caring that he might be killed. Just go ahead and let him go. Tharn sees him getting hit by a truck. I'm so okay with that.

I mean, I get the logic of no vigilante justice. But... People who sexually assault rarely deal with serious consequences. Only about 6% of Sexual Offenders ever serve a day in jail. If an assault is reported (this is rare due to fear factors), there is a 50% chance of an arrest. If an arrest is made, there is an 80% chance of prosecution. If there is a prosecution, there is only a 58% chance of conviction. If convicted, there is only a 16% chance that they will go to prison.

Well, that was therapeutic. The parental guidance warning made me chuckle.

They found him! Now I'm nervous! Ahhh, don't save him Tharn, go save Phaya. Don't judge me, people. I'm a little blood thirty when it comes to this.

A Naga. Not good. He is using his power for the fight, and it looks like it's overpowering Tharn's. Surprisingly, Phaya is keeping pace though, despite the break out of power. Well, until he gets a rope wrapped around him, that is. I was in full support of you dude until you started hurting Phaya and Tharn. Now ya gotta go.

Shit! A lot happened fast!

Tharn steps in front of Phaya and gets stabbed. You can tell from home dudes face that he had never meant to actually hurt Tharn. Which means he knows he is a fellow Naga. Then why is he okay with hurting Phaya? Then we see combined powers. Both Phaya's and Tharn, with Tharn's being green, which is Naga colors. Golden red is a distinct color clue.

Garuda: Is a mythical bird-man creature that is the half sibling to the nage, but they are sworn enemies. The feud started when both he Garuda's mother and Nagas' mother married the same husband. The husband gave each wife one wish. The Nagas' mother asked for a thousand children, while Garuda's mother wished for two children superior to the Naga. The feud grew until Garuda's mother lost a bet ad became the servant of the Nagas' mother. Eventually she was freed, but her children swore vengeance.

The Garuda represents royalty, strength, and divine knowledge. With its fierce loyalty and warrior nature, the Garuda serves a protective function. It adorns shields, swords, and armor as a guardian symbol. The Garuda’s golden wings are believed to shine light on the darkness of evil and ignorance.

Soooo, right now I'm thinking our Phaya is a Garuda. It also explains why in their past life he rejected Tharn for being a Naga. There are some stories of Naga and Garuda that aren't enemy, though. These few stories are about devote Buddhist Nagas and as protectors of the faith, Garudas are unable to kill these particular Nagas.

Poor Phaya is flipping out while Tharn is very calm. You can literally watch Phaya's brain go into a "does not compute point." All because Tharn is glad his is safe and gently wipes his face. It's a stark contrast to the violence that Phaya has been giving him. This whole thing cools him down in the same way that a bucket of cold water would. Despite others showing up, they cling to each other.

Tharn is now cleaned up and very calm. Meanwhile, his other half is losing his shit. Dragging him away to try and get some answers. Finally, some much-needed communication and touchy-feely. I love the way Tharn looks at Phaya when he asks him not to leave him.

Look, he is all soft and gooey like a chocolate chip cookie. He might be talking about work, but his body language is saying something else. This boy is clearly touched, starved. Ahhh, I'm getting all the feels with this scene.

The nurses pausing and kind of turning back to them and then them breaking apart. Hahahaha!

This cute little micro smile. It means everything to have cleared things up with Phaya.

Guys... Someone on this show is an actual survivor. Cause this shit is too accurate. Yeah, they could have talked to a survivor but add it with other things, it's there. This is someone's therapeutic art. The writer? The scriptwriter? I haven't read the book, so I don't know.

Ohhhh, we're digging into his parent's case now.

Phaya staying the night with Tharn again. Slumber party! Yes, you absolutely should play a game of Doctor. Silly boy, he is cute though.

Oh! Another dream. Damn it! I want the real deal but... I mean, at least they are feeding us something. At least the dreams tell us that these boys clearly want each other. Oh, a daydream. Damn boy. Keep it together 🤣🤣🤣 He's trying so hard. I'm dead. I love these two. He is planning ahead, telling Yai to bring him lots of clothes. He'll probably have to crash there more in the future.

But nope, it's the stupid doctor. Who is clearly some kind of naga since Phaya's touch bothers him. He gives a strong kickback. So as I mentioned earlier, Garuda can't harm followers of Buddhism, but they can and will harm those that worship the serpent.

Nobody is buying your shit Phaya, but I'm with you on saying what ever you got to. This dude is creepy. He feels like he owns Tharn and I wanna know why. And we're playing doctor again! Which ends in cuddle time. OMG, I love Phaya so much. That is the fastest count to three that I've ever heard. Love it! Touch starved, Tharn is very handsy when he is sleeping. Phaya does not appear to mind.

Too cute!!!

Apparently, all that love goes out the window when he wakes up. 🤣🤣🤣

Ummm, home dude might be your adoptive dad, but he isn't a cop. Stop talking shop!

The precepts are rules or guidelines to develop mind and character to make progress on the path to enlightenment… The first precept consists of a prohibition of killing, both humans and all animals. The second precept prohibits theft and related activities such as fraud and forgery. The third precept refers to sexual misconduct, and has been defined with terms such as sexual responsibility and long-term commitment. The fourth precept involves falsehood spoken or committed to by action, as well as malicious speech, harsh speech and gossip. The fifth precept prohibits intoxication through alcohol, drugs, or other means.

Damn, Phaya over here tattling. Oh, no! Grandma is sick! Ha, he was tricked.

He is a cop. Of course, it's dangerous. This is why I'm oh so excited that two of my kids want to go into law enforcement. (said in complete sarcasm.) We do a tight focus of the eagle, he has wings on his back. I'm really thinking I'm right here. Damn, he is obsessed.

There is past life Tharn. Water and sky, the places where their other half reside. And there he is. Ahh, I get more and more excited with each one. I can't wait. 💜💜💜

[mikuni14]

The Sign - Ep 5

As usual, I'll start with the police part of the story, the least important. All the time I was thinking about only one thing: if only you were so motivated, if only you devoted as much time, resources and effort to catching a fucking r*pist as you put into catching a grief-stricken, sick man. If only the inspector team leader shook the victim's hand and promised them everything like he promises a fucking criminal. Copaganda just doesn't work anymore, sorry guys, but acab 🤷‍♀️

I was kind of puzzled by Phaya's behavior at the beginning of the episode, I think he should have believed Tharn, his behavior is a bit ooc. I.. think? I assume that the still angry Phaya is just done so that the plot can later give a scene of him coming to his senses after almost losing Tharn (*and insert romantic scene here*). What I liked was how in character Tharn was, and he acted exactly as he should. And the look on Phaya's face when he unintentionally hit Tharn.

Phaya and Dr. Douchelaton scene was simply awesome, starting with the two of them momentarily slipping into the world of supernatural ���. Everything was cool here, Phaya's claw-like fingers, the way Doc could barely control his rage (that clenching jaw), their fight for dominance, for Tharn. Omg! Personally I like jealousy done well and Phaya fighting for Tharn and winning was a *chef's kiss*. And wow, Heng perfectly shows what a psycho Dr. Chophisdickoff is, his behavior, his expressions 👌

I love that when it comes to sexual fantasies, Tharn is slightly brothel-ish and Phaya has soft fantasies decorated with dancing luminous lights ✨

The shock on the face of the naga-possessed vigilante when the knife pierced Tharn, instead of that pesky bird, was so cool. Also telling. Tharn shielding Phaya and fighting the enemy with his superpowers was my fav 👌👌

Phaya and Tharn's reconciliation scene… oh gosh, what can I say except that when Phaya is angry, he is angry, but when he is not angry, he literally makes the most romatic, raw marriage vows. Or something. The way they touch each other tenderly, how they get lost in each other's eyes 🥺

The bed scene had me chewing on the walls, crawling on the ceiling and understanding quantum physics for a second. Ok, but this is what I call chemistry between characters (actors). It was Tharn trying to mold his body around Phaya's, wrapping around him, leaving not an inch of space between them. The way Phaya gently lifts Tharn's head to cradle him in his arms, to hug him closer, to make sure that there is absolutely NO space between them, that he finally has the opportunity to have Tharn in his arms. IT'S HOW NATURAL THEY LOOK TOGETHER, HOW PERFECTLY THEY FIT TOGETHER LIKE PUZZLE PIECES. The way Phaya took care of Tharn and looked at him with tenderness, the way he stopped Tharn's hand from going any further. Phaya is such a good guy. The way Phaya looks like he's experiencing nirvana when he finally has Tharn in his arms, cuddled up to him. (as a person of refined manners and uninterested in worldly pleasures, I will NOT write anything about the effect that Tharn's shaved legs certainly do NOT have on me. I will also politely ignore how Phaya's attention immediately shifted to those legs in this 👇 scene)

gif by @mymycorrhizae

I also want to say that I keep thinking about how caring, how forgiving Tharn is. How I think of his sweet, sweet face, especially upturned as he looks at Phaya with devotion and love. Tharn has my whole heart. I love how Tharn "don't come near me, you handsome cow" freaks out every time there's even a hint of the possibility of losing Phaya, like when Sand offers Phaya a date with her friend, or when Phaya gets mad at him and don't want to talk to him 😭 So I'm really looking forward to the next episode and long-haired, sweet Tharn/Wansarat caring for the wounded enemy Phaya/Garuda.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Jatayu - Day 83

Race: Avian

Arcana: Sun

Alignment: Light-Law

July 31st, 2024

Hinduism has always been a purveying theme throughout the SMT series. As one of the biggest eastern religions, and one whose practitioners spread throughout the whole world, the lack of Hindus in Japan does not take away from how common and widespread the concepts and beings that make up the sprawling tapestry of Hinduism are throughout the series. Whether it be DDS's overarching themes connecting deeply to Hinduism, to the common recurrence and respect of several Hindu deities throughout the series, I find it interesting how SMT takes so much from the faith, even to the point of pulling out far more relatively obscure figures to make up their scores of demons. Case in point, today's Demon of the Day, and one of the only commonly recurring Avians throughout the series- the nephew of Garuda and attempted savior of the goddess Sita, Jatayu. While the King of the Vultures may have perished, his memory lives on through this series... but how did he die?

Jatayu seems to originate from the Hindu Epic Ramayana, purported as being the son of Aruna and Shyeni, with Aruna being the older brother of Garuda, who I'm sure you're familiar with if you've played through the series. Growing up with an elder brother in the form of Sampati, the two birds were downright inseparable in their youth. However, this would all change one day. The two were competitive spirits, after all, and their favorite contest was to see who could fly higher than the other. Soaring up and up, the two would speed ahead of each other day after day, until, eventually, it began to grow hot. The two had entered into Sūryamaṇḍala, the mandala of the orbit of the sun! Jatayu realized too late that he was about to get Icarus'd, and, scared for his brother's safety, Sampati sped ahead of the other bird and shielded him from the sun at the consequence of losing his own wings. Sampati was sent spiraling to the ground, the two cursed to never meet each other again.

Interestingly, though, this tragic tale would only be the start of the themes of self-sacrifice common throughout Jatayu's forays in Hindu myth. This noble display was only the start of an idea brewing in the Ramayana, one of the most important (and biggest) epics in not just Hinduism, but history as a whole. The King of the Vultures' spotlight wasn't quite over yet, as his exploits would continue on into the life of Rama, specifically in Aranya Kanda, one of the many parts of this sprawling poem. Later in the bird's life, he befriended Sita, one of the many avatars of Vishnu as well as being the female protagonist of the epic. However, this would come to a head when the demon king, Ravana, had abducted her. Hearing her cries for help, Jatayu went to assist, and a tense standoff soon turned into a fight to allow her to get away. To quote,

These just and reasonable words of Jatayu but inflamed Ravana the more and fire flashed from his twenty eyes. He sprang at Jatayu in dreadful rage and a terrible fight ensued between them in that desolate forest, even as if two cloud banks or two mount Malyavans(tags) dashed against one another.

The two's battle was fierce, and surprisingly exciting- I'd honestly recommend looking at it as it's a genuinely well written fight scene- However, a demigod bird only stands a ghost's chance against the king of the demons. After struggling, he'd finally pull Sita away from the demon king, but eventually, Jatayu would be struck down. Taking the opportunity for sacrifice, likely having been inspired by his brother all those years ago, Jatayu had a final stand against Ravana, leading to an hour-long battle ultimately ending in the bird's untimely death.

Thus, the rakshasaking and the vulture-king fought with unabated fury for over an hour ; at the end of which, Ravana profited by a chapce to hew off with his sharp sword the pinions and feet of Jatayu, who fought so nobly for his master Raghuveera. And the lord of the vultures fell to the earth in the agonies of death.

However, even in his death, as he lay nearing his end, he took the time to explain the situation to the then-arriving Rama, as the King of the Demons had kidnapped Sita again already. His sacrifice to uphold Dharma and to protect Sita may have failed, but he still took his last breaths to spite Ravana by weakening the king and giving Rama the information he needed. The recurring themes of selflessness and sacrifice in Jatayu's appearances are incredibly interesting to me, especially given his connection to vultures, a bird which most would consider very selfish. Perhaps, without Jatayu around, they became a far less proud race...? I dunno, I'm just spitballing. Interestingly, something I found in a post going over the story of Jatayu in great depth seems to indicate a greater spiritual significance to birds in general, and perhaps, Jatayu's death may have spelled the end for Ravana as a whole. To quote, as this is a line from the epic,

You will find no rest for the long years of Eternity, for you killed a bird in love and unsuspecting.

In honor of Jatayu, a great sculpture was erected in the Indian state of Kerala, at Jatayu Earth Center, named so after the bird himself. The massive sculpture is the largest bird-based piece of art in the world, showing the significance of the great King of Vultures in both history and mythology.

As for the design in SMT, Jatayu takes the name of King of the Vultures way more literally than most other depictions- the golden crown seems to reflect royalty, and the fur coat around the neck may be an allusion to several depictions of Jatayu also resembling eagles. However, I'm completely unsure as to where the lizard tail came from, as with the overall color palette- sure, it looks nice and intimidating, but for such a benevolent bird, isn't it weird? Whatever, I'm sure someone out there can find connections that I'm just not seeing. I will say, though, it is a very well done design, and I appreciate the fact that it hasn't changed after all the years it's existed in the series. Kinda like Cerberus, it might be a callback, but I'm unsure. Overall, though, I wasn't expecting to get so oddly attached to the vulture king, but his kind ways and tragic patterns of sacrifice certainly make him a surprise stick-out.

Now stop ambushing me in V. Please. I stole your eggs ONCE, JATAYU. PLE-

[ffxiv-f13ndish]

Old Foes and New

collab drabble w/ @ro-valerius [Tofu, Nhagi] ! Credit to @ro-valerius for gpose !

Regardless of what Tofu had told him some time ago about staying out of his business, Virgil made Tofu’s business his own business. The pieces were coming together as he tracked down Tuturoko’s men — not quite attacking, but taking notes from the shadows. Some figures in the shadows were becoming quite familiar.

For instance, he knew he was being followed now. Virgil gave no time to address as he flipped the pages in his book and summoned forth his carbuncle and brought up a shield around himself.

The woman kept to the shadows, smirking under her mask as she lifted one hand, fingertips pointed downwards as if holding on to a puppet by its strings. From the shadows around her sprang forth a swarm of inky dark wolves, each snapping and snarling as they rushed towards the elezen. The woman, however, remained content to remain where she was, even going so far as to sink further into the darkness; she wanted to watch, but not get involved. 

Virgil gave a sigh through his nose. What a nuisance. And here he was hoping to get home in time for a night-time tea. With the close proximity of the wolves, Virgil had to act fast. He didn’t have time to consider the repercussions of straining his aether as the pages of his book flipped and he summoned up Garuda-egi. With a swift move of his hand, he cast an attack which dispersed among the crowd of wolves.

“How appropriate, fighting from the shadows. Your cowardice is reminiscent of whom you serve. Perhaps it is hereditary, beast manipulator?” Virgil said through clenched teeth. He emitted a growl as the maw of a wolf sunk into his wrist, which he counterattacked with a quick cast of painflare. 

The woman laughed at his words, striding forward just enough for him to see her appearance. 

“Oh, you filthy man, I am not afraid of you. We are of the void, are we not? At least, you attempt to be, while I became one with it,” she said, recalling what Tuturoko had told her about her quarry. She allowed a small amount of void magic to ripple around her, more as a show than anything of import. The elezen had taken some of her pets, but she could summon more. And so she did. 

A wolf crept around Virgil’s right, noting the blindness in that eye and looking to take advantage of it. It kept low and quiet as it geared up to lunge, but its fangs met not the neck they were aimed for, instead biting down on the arm of a viera with fury in his eyes. 

“Void or not, woman, you should be afraid,” Tofu growled. The woman scoffed, a frown of irritation on her lips. 

“I am not meant to fight you, yet, rabbit. If you survive these, we’ll meet again,” she said, summoning more wolves and fading away into the shadows. 

Virgil gave Tofu a glance. So it seemed he made it out of bed rest, miraculously. He wondered how long that would last. His eyes fell to Tofu’s arm, a faint scoff sounding from him upon seeing the wound left from the bite of the wolf.

“The one day you neglect to put those damned gauntlets on, you decide to stick your arm into a wolf’s maw for me. I suggest you go back to bed rest, not because your health is ailing, but because you are ill in the head,” Virgil couldn’t help but chide Tofu as he geared himself up for the swarm.

With a labored breath, he brought forth Ifrit-egi, unleashing the flames of its wrath among the wolves to his left.

“You’re one to talk about bed rest, corpse, and I’ll have you know that I didn’t neglect them, they got…damaged and I can’t wear them anymore, I just forgot since I’m used to having them…” Tofu grumbled, cutting open the wolf still latched to his arm and giving a tilt of his head when it evaporated into smoke. 

“Good news, these things seem less…hearty than real wolves, bad news, there are a lot of them.” 

“Stop talking,” Virgil said through gritted teeth. 

Tofu shrugged and ducked forward quickly, dodging fang and claw as he tore through three wolves in one movement, turning on his heel to face two more as they lunged towards him. He kicked the feet out from under one of them, using his new lowered position to swing his knife up and under the second before spinning on his hand to catch the one he had dropped with his other knife. 

He glanced around; he had just taken care of six, Virgil had gotten a handful, and there were…from his count, ten left. 

Ten left, and Virgil was getting tired. Tired of seeing others obtain what he had failed to achieve, and certainly quite tired of getting saved by another viera. With Ifrit-egi still at the ready at his side, he projected another attack — only for the quick-learning wolves to move out of the blast. 

“Allow me this favor. If I do expire, do not allow Dante to take my eyes,” Virgil growled as he stumbled back, a wolf pouncing towards him head on. The pages turned, and he shot a charge of aether at the oncoming wolf to drain its energy — hopefully, it won’t tear off his face with so much vigor. 

“Like hells are you expiring today, Virgil! Lament and Kore would wring my neck if I let that happen!” Tofu said as he rushed the wolf that had geared up to attack the elezen. With one hand, he swiped his knife across the beast, and with his other, he tossed a small vial at Virgil. “Fiora thought you might need this, and I’m inclined to agree!” 

“Either way, they’ll wring your neck for being here,” Virgil huffed as he staggered back against a wall. He prepared to face the wolf, only for Tofu to quickly dispose of it — much quicker than he expected of him, really. He caught the vial, narrowly avoiding dropping it as his hands struggled to keep together. Before it had the chance to slip through his palms, he quickly downed the potion. The sweet punch of it was almost enough to invigorate him alone. However, Virgil needed a moment to catch his breath-

Three wolves snarled and charged as the rest circled around for an opportune moment. Tofu caught one in the jaw with his boot, surprised that even that was enough to undo the creature, and dug his knives into the other two as they closed in. 

-And it seemed Tofu was making good use of that moment. It seemed Virgil was wrong about Tofu. 

Virgil peeled away from the wall. As a wolf came up behind Tofu, he shot it with a quick Ruin spell. 

“Shame my aim is impeccable. Maybe I would have caught you with a proper spell this time,” Virgil jested. He stood up straight as he surveyed what was left. 

“Yeah yeah, you’re so powerful, hey can we get rid of these first, then you can make fun of me?” Tofu called over his shoulder with a quick smile to signify his own jest. Neither of them were very good at joking, but somehow they understood each others’ intent. 

There were five wolves left, and they branched off, two going for Virgil and three gunning for Tofu. Really, they should have all gone for one or the other, but, well, beasts were still beasts, after all. 

Tofu flitted through quickly, knife flashing in the light cast by the torches as he dispensed of two of the three wolves on him with ease. The last one moved out of the way, circling around and leaping from behind, catching Tofu in the shoulder with its teeth for a brief moment before his knife buried into its skull. As the last wolf on him came undone, he checked on how Virgil was faring.

Virgil made quick work of the two wolves that bounded his way with the help of Garuda-egi’s aerial blast. One wolf disposed of into the winds, the other hurled towards him – which Virgil finished off with a potent Ruin spell. 

Despite drinking his potion, Virgil was exhausted. He tried not to show it in his expression as he straightened up. 

“Pathetic,” Virgil spat, eyes narrowed as he stared off into the depths of the shadows, where their attacker had disappeared. 

“Her attack tonight only confirmed my suspicions. It seems your work pertaining to the Basilisks is not quite finished, Tofu,” Virgil dryly explained, leaning up against a wall to keep himself steady as he gathered himself once more. 

Tofu gave an almost curious tilt of his head, but his expression wasn't in it. Based on the colour of the woman's hair, her vocal mannerisms, and the facial markings he could barely catch sight of, he could tie this woman to the mage from before, but he had no idea what tied them to the Basilisks. 

“Do elaborate what you mean by that, Virgil. What ties that woman to the pirates?” he inquired, casting a glance around to ensure the danger was fully passed for the time being. 

Virgil gave Tofu an incredulous, stone cold stare – as if he were reprimanding Tofu for not recognizing something so obvious. Nevermind the fact that the information that Virgil had so scrupulously investigated was not as obvious as Virgil perceived it to be; to Virgil, what he knew should be common sense. 

“Next time you involve yourself in another inane revenge scheme, I suggest that you take great care to discard a target which has no familial or platonic ties — or one who has dissolved them,” Virgil said as he stood upright once more. “The beast puppeteer – of whom you had the delight of facing her creatures tonight – was the sister of the mage your pack had eliminated on the ship. There are quite a few stray frays that remain of the rope which tied you all to the Basilisks. I gather it is only a matter of time before they all weave together into a much more formidable beast with the men which seek to destroy you.”

There was a brief silence hanging in the air before a confused “She had another sister, and that one was on the ship?” Another brief silence followed. “All three of them were mages of some caliber?”

Nonetheless, Tofu squared his shoulders and met Virgil’s gaze evenly.

“Whatever comes for me, it will be destroyed. Whatever comes for my family, my friends, my dear ones, will be destroyed before it can do harm,” he said with determination. 

“Ah, yes. People can have siblings, which may be inclined to practice the same thing, yes,” Virgil flatly confirmed. His head tilted to one side in thought. “The thought to consider this does not please me, but if we are dealing with a mage well practiced in the art of manipulating voidsent creatures – we may have to involve someone I know who is quite… familiar… with voidsents.”

Tofu did another quick survey of the area before turning a half glance to Virgil, looking the elezen up and down before returning to a vigilant watch. 

“I have fought many a voidsent in my time, comes with the whole…Scion and Warrior of Light territory, I believe. I can handle it,” he said, keeping an air of confidence in his tone as he once more looked sidelong at Virgil. “I do note that ‘we’. This has nothing to do with you, are you involving yourself due to the void nature of that woman? What do you hope to gain?”

Virgil’s gaze fell on the injuries which Tofu had received during his feats to defend him. He gave a vexed sigh through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Instead of accepting that your actions to handle things on your own are selfish, I advise that you put more effort into accepting the help. It’ll only make you stronger, believe it or not. You have potential, but you tarnish any efforts to temper it by setting yourself back continuously. You are by no means stupid or useless, I know that much. But the actions you choose, based on the familiarity of it to your past... those are stupid decisions,” Virgil icily remarked, stepping closer as he held his gaze firm to Tofu’s. “The mage came to target me, regardless if it had to do with you. I’m involved now. Remember that.”

Tofu averted his gaze.

“These people… are my demons to face. But I cannot deny that you are right in that she clearly marked you as her prey this time. For what reason, I can’t say, but I suppose as much as I hate it, you are involved. Fine. But no one else. I don’t trust outside of the circle I know. If we need a voice on voidsent…we can ask my sister. Seems that thing’s been talking to her recently, alarming as that is, but it gives her information on the void,” he said, turning his eyes back to Virgil to convey his determination. 

“I understand that. And I don’t care.” Virgil studied Tofu’s expression. His head tilted in the other direction in consideration of Tofu’s sister being involved, attention piqued by the information shared on her.

“That will be necessary. Perhaps it can bring more insight on what this woman is capable of. It might be all we get before I can dissect her myself,” Virgil hummed, holding the crook of his index finger to his bottom lip in thought. “The creature within her… it is not the only voidsent that may be of assistance.”

Virgil paused, reluctant to speak of what he wanted to say next.

“I may… have had one success in my feats to create an evolved hybrid of a voidsent,” he said, after a hefty pause. Tofu shook his head.

“I already said no more. I can’t give that rat more targets to use against me than he already has,” he said stubbornly. Even he knew he could only spread himself so thin. He was already worn out from decades of that man… “I have to end this, and soon…”

“The more targets he has, the less he can focus his attacks. And frankly, it would be convenient for the both of us if this target is disposed of,” Virgil said, making a motion for Tofu to follow him as he began to walk. “For context, that is a joke. But if you intend on ending this sooner, you won’t make any progress alone – as I had already said. Or shall I have to hammer it into your head again? With an actual hammer? At least hear my considerations before you start wallowing and brooding.”

“You don’t know how Tuturoko operates,” Tofu said as he started after Virgil. “He doesn’t attack everyone he knows he can target, he picks who he can corner alone and uses them as bait to lure me out. And if I don’t… If I don’t come for them, he’ll just kill them outright - they’ll have lost their importance. He doesn’t care about anything else, he just wants me dead.” There was a brief silence before he spoke again, his voice soft. “And I have no idea why…”

“Perhaps not. But I do know how some of his men do,” Virgil said, reaching into his coat pocket to grab that infamous journal of his. “I have neglected to obtain all of who is involved, but there is a good chunk in there. Frankly, when I heard about the dealings with this new mage of theirs, I had to switch gears.” He handed Tofu the journal to look through.

“Good news, I know why you’re being targeted now. Stuck your nose in when I told you not to- Okay fine,” Tofu started, but clamped his mouth shut at a look from Virgil.

“It is difficult to be cornered when you know how to get out of a corner. I’m not saying it is foolproof, but having a set tactic may help us…” Virgil trailed off for a moment, taking a glance around at his surroundings. 

“We should not be discussing these matters outside. Let us retire to a home to speak further. There is much to be shared and planned.”

[lily-blue]

Love is a powerful weapon; learn to wield it

☆ characters: naga!kim & singha!you ☆ genre: fantasy kingdom au, guardian spirits au ☆ warnings: brief mention of blood, death and violence ☆ request: DV15. form this prompt list ☆ summary: you’re still too young to understand what it means to fight for your loved ones, but Kim tries his best to guide you towards the right direction ☆ words: 1,8k ☆ dedicated to: @dat-town​​ ♥

There was a parallel world outside that only a few could see; a prosperous kingdom behind a thin veil where most guardians lived. Some of these fearsome albeit well-respected creatures possessed the power of shapeshifting, some remained the same for centuries if the demons of the human realm didn’t shorten their life span drastically. Like it had happened to your maternal uncle before his twin daughters had taken over the temple that he had been protecting half of his life in Siam or your grandfather who had died before you had been born, sacrificing his life for the villagers who had worshipped him and his twin for decades, wishing for peace after long years of internal war.

As young Singhas, you and your twin brother both lived in Wattana, the capital city of your kingdom, in an institute close to the royal palace, where the king and queen could keep an eye on your improvement as guardian candidates. Since the vast majority of your kind had never cared enough about humans to show their faces on the other side of the veil, those who were willing to dedicate their existence to the weak and fallible were given proper training to be able to carry out their mission. You were taught about human history, different cultures that acknowledged your existence and defence and offence techniques that could have helped you win a fight against much greater enemies. To say that you loved every second of your training might have been a stretch, but you did love following in your family’s footsteps despite the limited time your teachers granted you to spend with your friends and relatives. You assumed it was their way of making you all get used to their absence once you moved to the human world.

After all, only guardians on duty could cross the border, and protecting one’s temples and people was a job that never ended. There would be no vacations or paid sick leaves. Actually, according to your teachers, both you and your brother would need to look for a human job once you became a part of the human world as blending in was the easiest way to pick up on the telltale signs when all hell was about to get loose. Humans loved gossiping that much.

The muffled screams and the distinct smell of Garuda blood were the first things that had gotten your attention when on a particularly lonely night you decided to walk around in the garden behind your accommodation to feel closer to your father. You two might have never met as he had needed to leave for the human world with his twin after their father’s death, but you liked to think that you were looking at similar moons.

‘You’re disgusting, you human-fucker piece of shit,’ someone groaned, the pain behind each and very world palpable. Even from a distance, even without looking at their face, you knew that their pain wasn’t one of a friend who had been betrayed. They felt the pain as if their body was nearing its limits.

‘Poor choice of last words,’ your teacher retorted with the usual nonchalance in his voice that made the ease he sliced the Garuda’s throat even more frightening. Your nails sank into palms as you peeked out from behind the tree trunk that you were using as your shield. Your stomach dropped the moment the creature’s head touched the ground.

In spite of those years you had spent in the institute, despite how seriously the royal couple and your teachers took your education, it was your first time witnessing another guardian’s death. The amount of blood that slowly pooled around the headless body was a lot more vast than you would have thought; the still corpse didn’t dissolve into thin air, either, as quickly as you had assumed based on the books and stories you had read. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off the Garuda’s eerily wide eyes. It felt like he was staring at you even in his death.

‘Are you planning to stay there all night?’ Your teacher’s voice pulled you out of your stupor, the disapproving hum at the end of his question echoing amusement. You weren’t sure it was a good sign or you should have been terrified. ‘If that’s how you react when you get scared, you should give up on becoming a guardian. You’ll just get yourself and your brother killed.’

It panged, how dismissively the Naga spoke. As though he thought you were a lost case; as if your dedication meant nothing to him just because, for a moment, your feet turned into stone.

Determined to not show any sign of weakness or frustration, you held your chin high and stepped out from behind the tree, feigning nonchalance. So what if it was the fearsome Naga, the guardian of merciless royal families, Kim Theerapanyakul who had called you incompetent? You knew your worth. You just had to remind him that you were the top student of your class for a reason.

‘I saw nothing,’ the lie fell from your lips immediately and honestly, you were pretty proud of how stable your voice came out while facing someone as deadly and rough around the edges as the Naga. You could almost see yourself walk away from this situation unharmed.

Expect…

‘You saw enough,’ he corrected you, the subtle smirk in the corner of his mouth unnerving. It was giving you the chills, but you willed your body to remain calm. Sure, you shouldn’t have been out so late at night, you should have walked in the opposite direction as soon as you had smelled the blood in the air, but it wasn’t necessarily against the rules. Until Kim had some sort of permission or reason to kill the other guardian. 

Because he had had one, right?

He had to have a good reason. You refused to believe that he had been in the wrong because that would have meant one thing: you were an error in his plan that he needed to get rid of. You bit into your tongue to suppress the nervous gulp that you were about to do.

‘You can relax. He was about to bring hell to the human world with this,’ he showed you the tiny ruby that was atop of his palm before he shoved it into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. You furrowed your brows but nodded in acknowledgement nevertheless. You had never heard about a gemstone so dangerous before, but maybe it was a part of a more complex plan. He wasn’t obligated to tell you all the details.

It was most probably for the better that he didn’t tell you anything more.

‘Wasn’t he a guardian?’ Was yet another question that shouldn’t have left your mouth, but it bugged you: was it necessary to go to such extremes instead of talking things out? Or was there a possibility that there weren’t only demons out there but fellow guardians, too, who wanted to harm those your family members had given their lives for?

Kim tilted his head sideways as his gaze loitered over your body from head to toe. He said nothing, but the silence was as good as any answer could have been. You felt sick and angry.

You were frustrated because you had just realised that you were still too young and naive for people like Kim to not laugh at you when you claimed you knew the world.

The Naga must have picked up on your unstable emotional state because instead of sending you back to your room or scolding you more for your poor reaction, he sighed and sat down on the grass, wordlessly asking you to do the same with another tilt of his head.

It took you a couple of seconds, but you eventually sat down next to him.

When you would tell your brother about your night the following day, you wouldn’t be able to explain how you ended up discussing the difference between a good guardian and powerful guardian - especially because you had been talking about the ones who lost their way and got corrupted in the process -, but you would have no problem reciting your teacher’s conclusion on the matter. In fact, his words might have stuck with you for the rest of your life.

‘They, good guardians, die for love. You kill for it.’ The impact was immediate as a part of you understood that what he was saying would change the way you saw the world forever. However, another part of you, that had barely lived two decades, couldn’t make much sense of the statement. Had he implied that guardians that lost their life were weak?

Wasn’t dying for those people you were protecting one of the most respected ways to leave the world behind?

Your eyes grew wide when Kim poked your forehead with his index and middle fingers. Your neck bent backwards and a pained groan slipped past your lips because of how unexpected his gesture was.

‘Go, sleep. I won’t go easy on you if you’re late from your morning run,’ he warned you, but despite his words and your lasting confusion, you felt more at ease in his company now than you had felt before your conversation.

You were still sitting on the grass, staring out of your head, when the Naga stood up and dusted off his jeans. He didn’t say anything more, nor did he steal a glance at you from above his shoulder from a distance. He became one with the shadows as easily as the rumours suggested. He was gone before you realised.

However, his words stayed with you. They didn’t go away as you grew into a more mature version of yourself who was a little more aware of how the real world worked with every passing day. A version of yourself who, despite the heartbreak, was strong enough to take over her father’s temple when the man and his brother failed to protect their humans from a backhanded attack led by a bitter guardian.

It took another decade and a half for your teacher’s words to finally make perfect sense to you. It happened so naturally you almost didn’t notice the changes: you crossed paths with a ridiculous human being who could not only see through the veil, but was also too fierce and reckless for his own good and as simple as breathing, your life went off its axis.

Before him, you would have fought until your body stopped moving if it meant you could protect those people who were depending on you and your brother. After him, you discovered the power that came with your desperation to destroy everything and everyone that meant harm to him. To stay with him. Because why would anyone die for peace and leave their loved ones behind?

When you genuinely cared about someone’s happiness, there were few things more cowardly than turning into a martyr just because it might have been what a good guardian would have done to avoid bloodshed.

the end.

[sabineelectricheart]

Lipstick Marks

Summary: Crius has a meeting today. An earlier encounter might lead to an embarrassingly pleasant situation.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Heheheh silly little man with his silly little feelings...

While there are several things Crius loves about Anastasia, by far his favorite is how she just cannot seem to keep her hands off of him.

Where he was accustomed to being the affectionate one, the needy one, she're apparently determined to make him seem downright aloof. It is funny, yes, to see that wilful girl, self-sufficient and impetuous, mewl like a little kitten when they are alone together, yes, but it is, more than anything, it is quite pleasant for himself to be the subject of this devotion. It made him a silent sort of giddy, the greedy demands for her time and love disguised into a light and soft tease over the hands and mouth that pepper and pin him down, unrepentant, in position. Not that he resisted too valiantly, or even resisted at all.

His estate might not be particularly large, even with the trickling addition of whatever comes as inheritance from the Lynzel marquisate, but his darling wife had no interest in managing it. It is all fine and good for him, let the accountants and butlers handle the boring business that interest neither of them. Likewise, she was not one for a life of leisure, swinging between salons, gatherings and courtly life, such as her stepmother used to do long before.

Oh, no. Anastasia’s place is with the Knights of Garuda, and of that she made everyone quite clear with that same imperious temperament he loves so much. Which means, much to her husband’s satisfaction, that she would come into work with him every day, and, well, Crius found that caring for the goddess’ birds can be a part-time job if you are good at it.

Which is not to say that he is very assiduous at even that. Already late to his next appointment with the royal treasurer on the ever pressing and seemingly-always relevant subject of funding for the order, his wife has him stuck at the stables, giggling like a pubescent schoolgirl struck with her first passion. Her lips are warm and ticklish at his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and she has both her hands tangled up in his hair, holding him in place for her relentless assault.

Of course, he could get away if he wanted to. His wife is a talented hunter and bower, but is half his size. He just does not. He certainly will not.

"Lord Commander, sir!" One of the squires addresses nervously, a bag of fodder held up to his chest like a shield. The poor teen was probably taken off his task to face the commander’s wrath by his cowardly company. "Sorry, sir, it is just that the master is waiting for you at your office, and he looks impatient. You are due…"

Before Crius can threaten bodily harm on the squire, who is shivering like an anxious little dog, for the interruption, Anastasia relinquishes her hold on him, laughing a little breathlessly.

"Sorry, sorry, it is all my fault.” She apologises amiably, feeling bad for the squire, but not truly regretful about her own transgression. “Please, regard my excuses to the master, but I must get going, too. There are chores to be made.”

He does wish to say something undignified, but he settles on, “Waiting might just be an elucidating experience for a man like the master.”

The redhead suppresses a smirk. “Go, Crius. I shall see you tonight, yes? With good results, I hope. I will miss you!"

"Very well, then." The man answers with a dazed, lovesick smile, that seems to both spook and charm the poor squire standing awkward to the corner, still unaccustomed to how things functioned up there. "I miss you already."

Anastasia kisses her husband once more on the lips, and Crius cannot help but watch as she goes off. The squire seemed to have something else to say, but a harsh look communicating his perilous position shot by the commander and the teen boy suddenly seemed awfully interested in his bag of fodder and how the garudas must be very hungry indeed.

On the way to his office, knights, squires and servants kept doing double-takes as he passes. Some, the older ones in their employ, snicker to themselves and gossip like wives as he passes. Others, gawk with their mouths open, too scandalised to avert their prying eyes. The envoy from the royal treasury, on his part, has his cheeks coloured and an expression of deep displeasure when he reaches the office.

He is used to attention, after so many years there would be no way not to be, and he even welcomes it at the measure it can help in his aims. It is easy for him to disregard the look of others, but he does not fully realize why they were looking at him like that until, some fifteen minutes into a discussion about budgetary limitations of the Crown, he happens to run his eyes through the mirror he keeps off to a wall.

Just about every inch of his face is stained with distinctively lip-shaped red marks. His once neatly combed hair is mussed into a wild curve that makes him laugh as soon as he sees it. Even his clothes, if he bothered to look down, he would see that he is missing his holster and his tie is undone.

The conversation immediately falls into a lull. Crius just leans back in his chair, admiring the undeniable proof that he belongs to someone. He huffs a little chuckle, lifting a gloved hand to almost reverently touch one of the kisses painted on his cheek. Anastasia certainly knew what she was doing.

Looking at the master, he just offers a giddy little shrug. "Life of a man in love, am I right?"

Crius grins through his entire appointment. Even after the lipstick is wiped away, he can still feel the lingering warmth of her love on his skin, in the beat of his heart, and in the butterflies fluttering about his stomach.

*_*_*_*_*

Even If Tempest Masterlist

[doedipus]

With the changes in season 3 of strive, giovanna’s core gameplan was altered fairly significantly. Pretty much anyone who has played against her can see that she’s definitely stronger, but depending on who your sparring groups are, you might not have a very clear idea of what she can and can’t do this time around. 

The biggest knowledge gap I can see so far is around chave trovao, which is her new central oki tool. On block it gives gio high frame advantage and guard crush. This removes the ability to game strike/throw mixups by doing a delayed option, since unlike regular blocking, it doesn’t receive extra frames of throw protection after the animation ends. It also removes the option to yrc, and removes protection while buffering motion inputs. Due to the momentum it grants her, it will often eat fd and deflect shield too. On regular or counter hit, the move causes stagger, which gives her the option to pick up with a shorter combo or throw. In short it basically works the same way as garuda impact, except she can’t string consecutive Big Arrows together repeatedly. 

Because it’s that strong, most of her flowchart this patch focuses on getting to fire off a meaty chave trovao at every opportunity. There’s a lot of consistent setups for this, but if she can tell the opponent is playing passively, she will try to sneak them in constantly. And likewise, the baseline of season 3 gio counterplay is disrupting it as much as possible. 

I have some more detailed notes below the break, but the TL;DR is

if you block chave trovao when you have a reversal or after she ended a combo with sepultura, whatever happens next is your fault ☆

First, if you have a reversal on hand and she does the Big Arrow, use it. Gio’s safejump pressure still exists this patch, but the nerf to sepultura’s knockdown means that it’s less consistent and tends to leave her with much less useful spacing than before. And of course, unlike after chave trovao, you can fuzzy through most of her options here pretty cleanly. So make sure to represent your reversals when you’ve got them.

Next, you have to develop an intuition for whether Big Arrows are meaty or not. Because of its long wind-up time, chave trovao requires specific setups in order for it to come out in time to hit meaty. That said, the lab monsters have been going crazy with these, and there’s quite a few potential ways to route into it. 

Universally, combos that end in sepultura cannot set up Big Arrow. That means that her easy confirms off stray hits like dash 5k 6p 214k, hits she’s not prepared for in canned pressure strings, and fast punishes like 5k/2k 214k will not give her the frame advantage she needs to let one rip. If she tries it, you can 6p her or use whatever other tools you’d usually go with to dodge or counter regular trovaos in neutral. Note that trovao is throw immune while active, so you won’t be able to reversal grab her out of the fake ones.

Aside from that, throw and combos that end in 6H(3) will typically set up for an autotimed meaty Big Arrow. There’s also a slew of reset points she can use to set it up, and some are more consistent than others at varying levels of juggle decay. Off the top of my head, 6p, 5h, 2d can work like this.

The timing on a few of these is pretty tight, though, especially after throw. If you feel like gambling, you might be able to challenge her with 6p anyway. 

After throw, there’s a few other new options gio can gamble on besides going straight for Big Arrow. Empty chave throw or cs can vary timing against opponents who are waiting for trovao. The cs option here also recovers fast enough to be safe against wakeup gold burst. Chave sol poente is another noteworthy one- it’ll cross up and lead to a full combo if it hits, and the disjoint makes it a good option against various abare options. All of these are pretty niche though, since they lack the stability of guard crush.

The chave specials have some theoretical use in pressure, but for now it seems rather underdeveloped. Cs chave or cs 2h chave can be used as an rps point- chave dp will beat 3-frame buttons, and can be used to condition a path to chave trovao or sol poente. Chave dp can also be rced for a high/low the way regular dp can. That said, she can be grabbed out of chave with all of these, and fd makes the whole thing less consistent. 

Chave sepultura can also see some niche use; its added property is that it pushes gio really far backwards. The theoretical usage of this is to disengage from pressure safely against characters she has unusually bad rps against after regular sepultura, like bridget, whose 2s beats both backdash and 2k. 

[hopeandduty]

Day 3: Tempest

Long has it been since she has seen such a storm. 

The winds upon the ocean roar and rage in a manner that would make Garuda proud. Ciardha has stood within the Howling Eye but even its tempestuous winds felt as a breeze before that with which the ocean challenged them. The sailors hurried about the deck but even the full pitch of their yells was swallowed by the clamour of the waves as they crashed against the hull. Water soaked through her every garment but Ciardha had no attention to spare for the way her black hair clung to her face. The storm is doing their utmost to swallow them and like any other threat she has faced, Ciardha will rise up against it. 

It would be an easier thing, she thinks, were it simply some creature to be slain. Could she brandish her sword and draw up the plethora of shadows the clouds have bestowed at midday then this tempest would be ended already. Yet the forces of the star itself were not so easily cowed and Ciardha must take her battle to another field. The ship’s elemental converters are familiar to her, a similar design to those that she utilized against Leviathan. It only takes a glance at the corrupted crystals and the device’s levers to see it activated. The sailors watching her seem stunned for the ease of which she tames them, but she has no attention to spare for this either. 

She has to protect these people, she has to protect her friends. That is the plain of it. No matter what it requires of her, she will offer it. Though Ciardha has vowed to serve no longer, this part of her run far deeper and more intrinsically; it is who she is and she makes no effort to cull that desire. If it requires her to deploy this ship’s magical defenses, that is hardly a trial compared to some of what she has faced.

It is the final device that poses the challenge. It roars as defiantly as the storm, protesting a lack of maintenance in sparks that send several sailors back away from its bite.

“What are you doin’ lass?” One of them yells through the rain; Ciardha cannot tell which. “Ya should be below deck! This storm’ll toss ya over the rail if ya ain’t careful!” 

She knows this risk. The fear of it is still raw in her chest from when Alisaie nearly thrown into the waters. It spurs Ciardha’s actions rather than stall them. If she doesn’t act now it will happen again. To Alisaie, to another– she won’t accept any such outcome. 

Ciardha thrusts her grip into the electric bite of the machine and winces against its sting. She can see the loose wire pulling the aether from the crystals and having nowhere to channel it. Just a bit to the left and–

The ship rocks violently and throws Ciardha against the converter. Metal slams against her chest and drives air from her lungs. The torrent of rain makes it all the harder to reclaim but Ciardha wills herself through the stars she is seeing. She cannot fail everyone now, not here, not ever. She would see this task done, see them safe from the storm and then– then–

Ciardha fits the errant wire back into place and throws the lever. 

The elemental converters flare to life, becoming the only sound to rise above the storm. Their shields raise about the ship casting an almost eerie glow upon those that remain on deck. The rain still pours down upon them, the wind still howls about them, but the ferocity of the storm is cowed and the lightning finds naught to dig into as it strikes. 

Ciardha lets out a single slow breath. 

Her arm and wrist still prickle with the remnants of electricity, but experience tells her this will fade in time. She walks over to the rail and instead counts the heads of those below. Relief washes over her more surely than the rain; none have been lost. Her eyes meet briefly with Erenville’s though she cannot decipher with what manner he is regarding her. She answers with a nod and thinks perhaps she will ask him later should the opportunity arise. 

Little did she know what awaited them beyond this storm.

[weatheredpileoftomes]

monologues unwelcome

For FFXIVWrite Day 5, “barbarous”. Majha & her co-WoLs, end of A Realm Reborn proper, spoilers thereby but also Prae is a meme, ~400 words. Hey I finally wrote something cheerful for this year! Some lines of dialogue…You May Recognize.

They’d left “smug” out of the briefings on the Garlean Empire.

“Your gods are no different from those of the beasts,” Gaius van Baelsar intones. “Eikons, every one.”

Thaliak bloody wept, the man likes the sound of his own voice. Majha crosses her arms and waits for him to finish. Chaanqa, less patient, whips another curl of energy at the magitek shield surrounding him, and then has to dodge when it bounces back at her.

“They are not!” Ta’rhiki tightens his hands around his jamadhars.

Van Baelsar ignores him. “Accept but this—”

“Besides,” Sonjha says with a frown, “some of the eikons are nice too.” He’s a summoner, so he’s biased, but Majha can’t say he doesn’t have a point. It’s not as if any of them have met the Warden herself, or ever will, but Majha likes to think that if they did she’d protect them as fiercely as Ifrit and Titan and Garuda have fought for their children.

“Accept but this,” van Baelsar says again, a little louder, “and you will—”

“The only thing I’ll accept is your unconditional surrender,” Majha says.

Even through the armor she can practically see smoke coming out of his ears. “Accept but this and you will see that Eorzea’s faith is bleeding the land dry.”

“Nah,” Chaanqa says. She casts Unmend again; again it sizzles and spatters off his shield. If Garlemald actually felt inclined to give these to common soldiers, for combat, instead of this one pompous windbag, for gratifying his ego, they’d be a lot more of a threat, though Majha supposes it might not let anything out either.

She wishes it didn’t let sound out.

“Nor is this unknown to your masters!” van Baelsar shouts, frazzled. “Which prompts the question—”

“I really don’t think it does,” Majha says.

Ta’rhiki is practically vibrating. “We don’t have masters, and our friends wouldn’t lie to us!”

The shield generator is inside the shield. Majha looks up, thoughtfully, at the ceiling.

“Your masters lack—wait.”

They are all treated to the sight of a Garlean legatus replaying his last few words in his head. “Which prompts the—argh. Damn it.”

The shield comes down in a sizzle of sparks, and this time Chaanqa’s Unmend hits him square in the chest. He lunges at her with a snarl, even as Ta’rhiki and Ifrit-egi both charge in.

Majha unfolds her arms, calls the wind, and then hits him in the mask with a rock. Satisfying.

[gurindammedia]

Prajurit Koopssus TNI dan Personel pasukan khusus Amerika yang tergabung dalam Special Operations Forces Liaison Element (SOFLE) dalam latihan gabungan bersama Super Garuda Shield tahun 2023

[girlbob-boypants]

Fuck it, then. Might just go ahead and cook up the most atrocious Garuda lore known to man. If no one else gonna do it, might as well make some mediocre fanfic of it

YOU KNOW I did actually think about what I would do with her lore after making that post. The answer was a resounding "no wonder DE is taking so long to post any, this shit is hard."

A few ideas I had tho:

- She was some kind of noble Vlad the Impaler type gal who was sentenced to the infested strain after pushing her luck with who she was allowed to torment. She is feared by noble and peasant alike in modern Corpus culture, which is why her blueprints are rewarded to you by Solaris United, Eudico trusts you to wield the monster from Corpus nightmares against the right Corpus.

- She was a soldier who signed up willingly cause she craved an eternal fight (easiest but most boring option imo)

- She was a member of the lower class of Corpus during the Orokin era. She was found by the Dax in the house of an esteemed and wealthy family, surrounded by the corpses of everyone who had been at the party held there that night, and admiring the way a rather beautiful caplet fit her. When asked why she did it, she said nobody knew how to have a quiet party these days, and was sentenced to the Jade Light. Ballas snuck her out because he's like that and wanted to see what happened. Her symbol is often used when groups of downtrodden Corpus want to do something about their shitty boss. Eudico sometimes let's video feed of tenno piloting Garuda slip through if she thinks Nef will see it.

- Garuda and Hildryn are lesbians and this has nothing to do with any lore Im just using this time to take a stand about it. They're opposites that have a fun dynamic and come from the same area. Hildryn strips enemy shields, rebuilds shields on allies, and has long range gun arms. Garuda is themed around the flesh blood and health of enemies, she can regen health for allies, and she has melee claws. What one lacks the other has in spades. Both of them can fly and make a joke of Grineer armor.

[diamandodusto]

A FEAST TO THE GODS : CHAPTER VIII (FINAL FANTASY XVI)

CHARACTERS

Clive Rosfield : Eldest son of Anabella and Elwin Rosfield. House Rosfield. Dominant of Ifrit. 

Joshua Rosfield : Second son of Elwin and Anabella Rosfield. House Rosfield. Dominant of Phoenix. 

Jill Warrick : A ward of Rosaria and the Rosfield’. Dominant of Shiva. House Rosfield by alliance. 

Cid Telamon : Ex Lord Commander of Waloed, and leader of the Hideaway. Dominant of Ramuh. 

Dyanne Hidgins : Second daughter of Beatrix and Josiah. House Hidgins. Dominant of Leviathan. 

Dion Lesage : Prince of Sanbreque and eldest son. House Lesage, Dominant of Bahamut. 

Barnabas Tharmr : King of Waloed and Ash. House Tharmr. Dominant of Odin.

Sir Terence : Lord Commander of Dion and his lover. 

Sleipnir Harbard : Lord Commander of Barnabas and physical incarnation of his steed as Odin. 

Benedikta Harman : Ally of Barnabas and Chief of the Intelligencers. Dominant of Garuda. 

Hugo Kupka : Economic adviser of Dhalmekian Republic and lover of Benedikta. Dominant of Titan. House Kupka. 

Gav : Cid’s sidekick and scooter. 

Darius Hidgins : Eldest son of the Hidgins. Dyanne’s Shield. House Hidgins. 

Jacob Aryn : 

Bastin Aryn : First heir of the Aryn’. House Aryn. 

Ornela Aryn : Second heir of the Aryn’. House Aryn. 

Anael Aryn : Third heir of the Aryn’. House Aryn. 

Beatrix Hidgins : Darius and Dyanne’s mother. House Hidgins. 

Josiah Hidgins : Darius and Dyanne’s father. House Hidgins. 

Anabella Rosfield : Clive and Joshua’s mother. House Rosfield then Lesage. 

Elwin Rosfield : Archduke of Rosaria. Father of Clive and Joshua. House Rosfield. 

THE HOUSES 

House Rosfield : The Phoenix. Lords and governs Rosaria. Faith of the Eikons. Current head : Clive Rosfield. 

House Lesage : The Dragon. From the Holy Empire of Sanbreque. Governs the same region. Faith of Greagor. Current head : Sylvestre Lesage.

House Hidgins : The Sea Snake. Allies of the Rosfield and has lands in the same regions. Later alleged to Sanbreque. Faith of Leviathan, Eikons. Current head : Josiah Hidgins. 

House Tharmr : The Knight. Possesses Ash and Waloed. Faith of Ultima. Current head : Barnabas Tharmr. 

House Kupka : The Titan. From the Dhalmekian Empire. Current head : Hugo Kupka

House Aryn : The Stag. From Waloed. Faith of Eikons. Military house of Waloed and allies of House Tharmr. 

Thanks to : @aria-lesage​ and @damatheirin​ for their help and support. 

CHAPTER VIII 

DION  

For once in his life, the palace was so silent. No maids, going back and forth if not the one who took out the bloodied sheet from her bed to change it. Dion had told her to remain in bed until he could get out of the bedroom, covered, he undressed the upper part of his body to make it look more real, and only opened the door himself to the poor redhead that would discover their “duty” done during the night. They discussed it for a bit, beforehand, how she felt, he reassured her, even. Made a version both of them could tell the curious ones. Sure, he strictly avoided sitting on the bed at the sole moment he knew what happened on it, but the couch was comfortable enough to get his cheeks on to wait. 

He warned her the castle would speak of them two. That, gazes would be given, whispers chanted. That she had to bear with it, that, during his absence, there was a chance for his father to invite her more to spend time with him. Dyanne was maybe still too innocent when things were about herself, but Dion, on his side, was her polar opposite. Thus, protecting her as much he could. 

And she was on her little cloud, how could he take her off it ? That was not what he wanted. Himself, got to see Terence again, during the night. Spent it just the way Clive and Dyanne did, he could only understand her. In the end. 

Therefore, when the red-headed maiden took off the bedsheets to take it out of the bedroom, he laughed heartily : she would run to Anabella to tell her, if that was for her good graces. And, thus, this would get to his Father. And, before his departure, he’d be given a word with him. 

And it went, just as he planned. 

“My Liege, his Grace, commands you to come to his chambers. He wants to discuss with you.” Dion nodded kindly, in the corridors of the Castle of Oriflamme. Making his way, he made his bones crack quickly, in absolute relaxation. He knocked on the door thrice, before his Father dared to ask him to enter. 

“I am expecting you to explain what were your shenanigans last night. No hiding. No lies. I know the versions of those who witnessed, you better tell the whole truth, Son.” He sat on his father’s couch, crossing his leg one above the other. “I intended to bed the woman who shares my days, Father. Isn’t what a man shall do in such case ? Our departure on the sea is for today, I did not want to lose time with her and desired to spend more in her company.” 

“You two aren’t even wedded!” 

He faked surprise. “Yes, that is truth, I must admit. But, I am only but a man, Father. Is it really that bad ? I can marry her, when the political situation between the realms will cool itself. As of the time being, it is no good idea to betroth us, by the way. In my opinion, we shall wait for a bit.” 

“Did you come in her?” 

He was stunned on the spot, his maroon gaze becoming almost surprised by his father’s directness. He took a couple of seconds before finding his senses again. “I… No-I don’t remember it well. In the middle of action, I must admit I did not exactly look, if you would pardon my language.” He lied. 

“What will I do if…?” 

Dion thought. Yes, he didn’t think of that possibility. Not to say he wasn’t there to look if Clive bred or not, sweet Dyanne, and he didn’t want to know. He wouldn’t ask her, either. They were close, but not this close. “There are plenty of solutions, there. You are the Emperor, your Grace. Tell our folks and nobles you’ve betrothed us in secret, and we wedded in such as well. Thus, nothing shall be more muttered throughout the populations that surround us.” 

Sylvestre sighed. This boy exhausted him. Since his very birth, Dion always did as he saw fit and didn’t exactly look who could be affected by his own actions. The latter got up from his seat, approaching his father. “I shall take her today, say goodbye to her brother, therefore do not expect those hounds to remain silent when they’ll see us three, or even four, with Lord Rosfield always with him. I shall get you warned, Father. May Greagor lead us to victory.” 

He went out of the room, before pressing on to the outskirts of the castle to join the Deccan. He asked Dyanne to move by herself to the docks to say goodbye to Darius, Clive, and himself. Until then, he left her to her own doings. Yet, Sylvestre, on his own, was already thinking of the outlets of this matter. 

Wasn’t Dion right, in the end ?

ANABELLA 

Fucking wench. 

Whore. 

Bitch. 

Slut. 

She threw a vase nearby, awakening the birds by her window, she yelled and then clenched her fist into striking the table of wood. Wounding herself in the process. That fucking streetwalker, she thought. She bloodied a sheet on the ground, her feet kicked in it. She cursed Dion, she cursed Sylvestre for his incompetence, she cursed Dyanne for messing up with her plans to place Olivier, heir. Anabella thought numerous times of how she’d get her way, but now the Dominant of Water and of Light shagged, Sylvestre would focus on his eldest and Olivier would… She shook her head. She could simply not come to terms with the fact of the ending she’s planned would never happen. 

Anabella looked at herself in the mirror. Oh, how beautiful she was in that dress. But then, her thoughts went back to Dyanne and Dion. If two Dominants bedded, there were higher chances their offspring would be also one. Hence, discrediting all of her efforts to take good care of Olivier’s future. He’d be nothing but a discharge of sperm. All because of Dyanne’s fucking womb and the fact the Erysean’ women were known for their fertility. That was also why Elwin chose the girl as a spouse for Clive, as well. Just because of the wonders, genetics from her god-damn people. 

Anabella wished she (the Sea Snake) would drown. But, Leviathan couldn’t drown, could she ? And, despite all her good pride, Anabella feared Bahamut and his bursts of rage. At the moment, she could not even attempt to give a moon tea to their political hostage, in case that’d be suspicious. And, she knew Sylvestre wanted to become a Grandsire, oh, so badly. All of this must've been a dream for him. And, Anabella started to become afraid of the possibility of Dyanne reaching the good treats of Sylvestre, due to her role in this atonement of bullshit. 

“Bring me ink, a feather, and paper.” She commanded her lady-in-waiting. The other blonde woman executed herself, ordering the latter to prepare her a bath before sending the letter she attended to be received. Anabella smirked as her fingers swung against the piece of paper, attending. She wrote three of those, three of them. She enveloped them, destined to be posted by the woman she called “her favourite”. 

“Where, my Lady?” 

“East, The Iron Kingdom, and the North.” 

She nodded, as Anabella engulfed herself into the warmth of her path. 

Was it a women’s war she desired ? 

Then she shall have it. 

DYANNE 

Oh, how much she hated that. 

If somebody had told her the aftermath was to be thing… Embarrassing, maybe she would've thought twice if not thrice before getting there. But here she was, now on the docks, watching the knights come and go in paddles to fill up the Deccan. She admired the ship, its sea-city rising tall and proud on the sea. White, white, pure as untouched snow. Golden, like the sun. She smiled when she spotted the sigil of her house : the seahorse. 

“I thought you would never come.” She heard behind her. Turning around, she found Clive and urged herself to not break off before the urge to reach his arms and kiss him on the spot. She could not get away with herself, neither could he, if she ever was to do that. “I hesitated. Maybe denial suits me better than facing good ol’ truth after all.” She half-joked, remarking her brother was discussing with Dion not far away. She waved at them. 

“You would have regretted this.” Assured Clive, keeping also his hands to himself. “Surely, yes. I would’ve. How does it feel ? To know you’ll be soon enough on the Master of all Ships ?” Clive laughed heartily before giving a glance around his fellow, Dion and Darius. Of course, the stares were judgmental, curious, but nowhere near what it was two days ago. “I never thought I would've got on the Deccan. It was more mythical than anything else, for me.” 

She smiled, before seeing Dion and Darius approach. She embraced her brother before Dion and she shared a gaze. “Here we are, at last. Time to sail.” Confirmed Darius. She pushed back the tears from her eyes, at his words. Of course, she trusted Leviathan to take care of her Shield, the man she loved and the one she considered her brother. 

“Please, I beg of you three, make it out alive. I could not bear your losses. I can’t think about continuing without you all.” Dion winced sadly at what she said. Sure, this was the duty of going to the front. Moreover, on the sea itself to land. But at least, the very least, was to assure their safety. And hence, hers. If they’ve lost, Greagor above could only know what would await her. Dion grabbed her hand, gently. “Remember what we said last night : I gave you everything I’ve had to ease your wait. But, be courageous. You are Dominant, and a strong person. I know you can do this.” She nodded, as Darius wiped off a tear running down her cheek. Clive was distraught. He couldn’t touch her, nor could he even get closer without being looked upon by those who dared listening in their conversation. 

But, may the Founder be blessed, Dion seemed to understand that. He called them off, to the ship, to wait on them. Thus, executing themselves, they were all three on the deck. 

“I will take care of myself, sweet sister, you shan’t fear for me. I will always come back to you, even without a member, I would. It’s you and me until the end of the line. Plus, I got Leviathan’s blessing. I can get myself just fine.” Swore Darius. She dug her head deeper against his armoured torso, before kissing his cheek wholeheartedly. Then, Dion called Darius to help him pack some ropes, letting only the two else, together. 

Without a glance upon them any further, Clive kissed her forehead and dragged her into an embrace she wished would never stop. “Thank you, Dyanne.” She raised her head, looking at Clive right into his eyes. “For what?” she asked. Lord Rosfield kissed the tip of her nose, his hands resting in the crease of her back. “You eased the pain. All these years. You, Darius. You were the only mooring anchor I had, when I was alone and lonely. Not only that, but you visited me each day, gave me all of your attention, you’ve never given up on me. Never. And for this, I shall give you all of my gratitude. I wished I would stay, to accompany you each day. But I can’t, and this breaks me.” 

Dyanne’s eyes watered again, as Clive kissed under each of her eyes, his lips becoming salty due to the taste of water. “This sounds like a farewell.” She concluded. He shook his head. Was it ? No, definitely not. But he wanted to be honest, to say what was on his mind. “No, see it like a promise of a better future for you, for Darius, your parents, me, us. I’ll avenge Joshua, my Father, you, myself, and all the ones they’ve wronged. Your company and your brother have kept me standing still and straight in my boots, always looking for my goal. And I owe it to you two. Then, I promise you I’ll do everything to make it out alive. To make it back to yo-.” She kissed him tenderly, on her tiptoes, her flat shoes not making her taller, Clive took a salty taste upon her lips, but took greed in their paradoxal sweetness. “I will have to go.” He said as he heard Darius and Dion coming back. 

Jumping in the paddle, Clive and the two other men waved at her, as Dyanne teared down, falling on her knees as she witnessed them three drifting away. They’ve felt their heart break, all of them. But they could not turn back. 

War is war. 

Goodbye, Brothers, she thought. Goodbye, dearest Clive. 

< PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER >

[bisquicklite]

Is their any moment that happens between them that you know happens and just makes you melt? 

:3 Thank you for the ask! (My very first one! Just pretend I am throwing confetti at you in celebration!)

I have so many soft moments between my ship that make me melt and feel a bit dumb! But since I've only started documenting my catgirl (Osha) and the knight she loves (Haurchefant), I'll start with one of the earliest moments.

Before these two had properly gotten together they were pretty solid penpals. It started pretty innocently with Osha wanting to keep someone in Ishgard with some kind of authority informed about the neighboring primal problem- and if that someone just happens to be the very handsome and lovely knight she spent several days flirting with, well, what do you expect? She's only mortal, and she thinks Lord Haurchefant is, just, so lovely. But that is how it starts, with these two dutiful idiots sending letters of the latest goings on, always with well wishes and prayers for the other's safety and signed off with affectionate goodbyes.

The first significantly sweet moment between these two happens near the end of ARR; Garuda is defeated, the remaining Scions are (mostly) reunited, and it looks like Eorzea is going to be sending her to war. Osha is more than willing to fight, but she is not without concerns. This time last year she was still racing chocobos! Now they want her to go off and spearhead the fight against the invading imperial forces? She’s their best bet? Really?

And Osha expresses these concerns in one of her letters to Haurchefant, backtracking at the end of the letter by saying ‘Please ignore my self-pitying rambling. The recent days have been long and I find myself longing for times when I was less burdened. Oh, geeze, that sounds even worse. If anyone asks, please pretend that my letters are full of something a bit more heroic.’

The next letter she receives from Haurchefant is accompanied by a gift. Along with a letter full of reassurances he sends her a blade, something short and easily kept on hand (and very nice, Osha thinks, of fine quality and made of good, solid Ishgardian steel.) He tells her that if he wasn’t bound by his own duty he would happily go to battle at her side. But as he’s not free to be her shield in the coming battle, he asks her to take this blade in his stead. That even if it does not spill blood for her, it may still serve as a good luck charm full of his hopes and prayers that she will be victorious in the coming days.

And Osha, who is a practical woman who likes to believe herself a romantic, thinks that this is the sweetest thing ever. She has, for over a decade, thought of herself as cursed. And so she has always been especially fond of good luck charms. It is the moment she starts to think of Haurchefant as someone more significant than a flirtation, for what they’ve had had always been light and fun and simple and not super deep. But a gift like this, with such thoughtfulness behind it, speaks to something more. 

So Osha gets a very lovely knife (it's got flowers engraved along the blade! It's so pretty!) and is, just, super smitten.

[anchanted-one]

Legend of Lightning Chapter 74. Bugtown

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/118079749

“Shields failing fast!”

Vajra and Kira were granted a small, two-man shuttle as their entry into Balmorra. Neither wanted to risk the Garuda on something like this. The shuttle had shields and armor, but the manoeuvrability of a brick.

“Why’d there have to be a patrol now, of all times!?”

“And right at our entry point too!”

Vajra desperately pulled the sluggish ship through a twisty path, relying on his Sight and Force-fuelled Instinct to avoid the most devastating shots. But despite his best efforts…

“Can’t… shake… them!”

He started to panic again, as he had on the day he’d flown into the Oppressor. He wasn’t a bad pilot, thanks in great part to his combat instincts, but he felt much less secure in a ship. It was so easy for a mistake to spiral into death by fiery explosion! And a ship was never as under his control as his own body. This drunken Huttsmobile, especially.

Shields at fifteen percent!

“Easy, boss!” Kira had noticed his state. Summoning the most admirable veneer of calm, she settled back in her seat. Leaning over slightly, she whispered softly. “Forget what the instruments are telling you. You’re doing just great. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here with you. We’ll survive this together. Kay? I know we can do it.