Little Pink Starfish

In the aftermath of ecstasy, Ishar’s unfocused eyes slowly regained their clarity, once more reflecting the world and shimmering with light. Then, his gaze met Veloan’s.

With a deliberately gentle tone, Veloan wiped a streak of semen from Ishar’s abdomen with his fingers and held it up, whispering sweetly, “Do you enjoy me that much? You came just from being entered.”

Ishar’s purple eyes glared back in reproach. That look clearly seemed to say, “Whose fault do you think that is?”

Noticing the rare, raw vulnerability in Ishar’s expression—something never seen before—Veloan’s smile deepened.

Annoyed, Ishar raised a trembling hand and grasped Veloan’s chest tightly. He had meant to grab his shoulder, but his strength failed him, overwhelmed by the lingering heat coursing through his body.

Understanding Ishar’s condition all too well, Veloan gently wrapped his arms around his waist to support him, planting soft kisses over and over. Ishar blinked, as if debating whether to keep sulking, but eventually gave in, pretending to do so reluctantly.

“Can you move now?” Veloan asked.

“…You mustn’t do that again. Like just now. Understood?”

“Yes. I understand.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear.”

Only after extracting that promise did Ishar, now slightly more composed, place both hands on Veloan’s shoulders and slowly lift his hips.

Since Veloan had entered him more deeply than usual, even the act of pulling out scraped his inner walls with a sharp, vivid heat.

“Haaagh…”

Though he was the one moving this time, Ishar’s body still trembled. But he didn’t stop. Raising and lowering his hips, he shivered with each motion, feeling Veloan inside him in full.

“Hnn, haah…”

“Ahh…”

As Ishar took him in and rocked his hips on his own, Veloan licked his lips, his gaze burning as he watched intently.

The Ishar who had always seemed so ascetic now looked like the very image of a divine seducer sent by the gods to tempt mankind—so beautiful, so utterly sensual.

As Ishar moved his hips to strike the spot within that gave him the most pleasure, the way his inner walls reflexively tightened whenever Veloan’s shaft threatened to slip out was unbearably obscene.

“Ah?! A—ah!”

Unable to hold himself back, Veloan gripped Ishar’s waist and began to guide his movements. Ishar, swept up in that force, had no choice but to follow, his hips moving under Veloan’s control.

His will crumbled far too easily under that pressure. Now nearly moving entirely in time with Veloan’s rhythm, Ishar was consumed by the pleasure that surged beyond his ability to restrain. His breath grew heavy and ragged.

Despite having climaxed not long ago, Ishar’s spent member had already regained its firmness—now standing erect and leaking pale seed with every thrust of his hips.

“Ah—Veloan, wait…! Hngh—!”

Suddenly, his body tilted—and in the next moment, Veloan gently laid Ishar down on the sofa.

As if flowing like water, Ishar naturally ended up beneath Veloan, one of his legs lifted and resting on Veloan’s shoulder. When their eyes met—Veloan’s gleaming with fierce intensity—Ishar felt a jolt of alarm.

The heat-fogged haze clouding his mind cleared in an instant. That look in Veloan’s eyes was almost frightening—just like the first time he had knotted.

Dreading the possibility, Ishar tensed up and hurriedly spoke.

“Veloan, wait—let’s just calm—ahh, aah!”

Veloan’s shaft drove in mercilessly, slamming into Ishar’s depths. Each thrust felt like a club grinding against his inner walls, kindling a deep heat in his abdomen that spread through his entire body. Ishar tried to suppress the moans spilling from between his lips, but the relentless stimulation from below made even that impossible—his jaw slackened, and control slipped away.

Pulling back only to thrust forward again, Veloan’s tip struck Ishar’s sweet spot without mercy, grinding and pressing in a punishing rhythm. The pleasure, unceasing and sharp, quickly surged past what Ishar’s body could handle.

As Veloan leaned in, adding his weight to the motion, a new wave of pressure shot through Ishar’s lower abdomen, intensifying the pleasure until it ached. Unswallowed drool dripped from his chin, trailing down as his senses blurred into haze.

It no longer felt like his body belonged to him.

He belonged to Veloan. And—

“Veloan… is mine too.”

The thought filled him with joy—pure, ecstatic joy.

Desire, now unbound by reason, consumed Ishar completely, leaving nothing restrained.

The rough breath and low moans spilling from Veloan beside his ear drove out the last of his reason, sweeping him further into a world ruled only by sensation and want.

As the thick, hot flesh continued to drive deep between his hips, Ishar only craved Veloan more. But this emotion—it wasn’t just hunger for physical pleasure.

“Ishar.”

It was the desire to become one with him.

A yearning that went beyond flesh—kindled by the sight of Veloan above him, gazing down with eyes gleaming in raw greed, as if he wanted to devour every part of him. And Ishar… wanted that, too. To be wholly consumed—and to consume in return.

Ishar moved willingly, following the pull of his own desire. Lifting his upper body slightly, he opened his arms.

The moment Veloan leaned down obediently, Ishar wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him in with a sudden force—then thrust his tongue into Veloan’s parted, vulnerable lips.

He devoured him as if savoring soft, ripened flesh that melted at the slightest touch, completely lost in the heat of their entangled bodies.

“Nh—haah…!”

As Veloan climaxed inside him, Ishar gasped—feeling the swelling knot begin to take shape deep within. He had seen it coming, sensed it in the way Veloan’s thrusts grew rougher, more desperate, and had braced himself.

“What good is being prepared…!”

Even though it was the second time, he still couldn’t get used to it. The sensation of Veloan swelling uncontrollably inside him made it feel as though his abdomen were being completely filled. The heat expanded, stretching his entrance and inner walls further, until a sharp ache welled up—bringing tears to his eyes.

“Ishar, I love you. Ishar… my Ishar…”

Sensing Ishar’s state with sharp intuition, Veloan gently kissed the corners of his eyes, whispering again and again—words of love, as if that were the only language he knew.

Strangely, with each word he spoke, the pain and fear from the pressure inside Ishar faded. And what filled him instead was a love he could no longer deny—a deep, undeniable affection for Veloan.

“Ishar, will you… tell me you love me too?”
Veloan asked softly, his voice nearly a breath, eyes fixed on Ishar with a gaze hazy from pleasure and affection.

But Ishar couldn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled Veloan into a tight embrace, drawing him down and sealing their lips in a kiss.

Because he was Veloan’s sinner—and the greatest coward in the world—he knew he could never give him those words. Not until the day Veloan learned the truth. And with that silence, guilt weighed heavily on him once more.

---

It was the hour when moonlight shone brightest upon the earth.

The pale light spilled softly through the window, settling over Ishar’s body as if caressing it.

Veloan gently ran his fingers through the silver-streaked strands of Ishar’s long hair, gazing quietly at his sleeping face.

His expression was peaceful—so much so that it was hard to believe this was the same person who had just melted in his arms, surrendering entirely to pleasure.

Veloan’s fingers ghosted across Ishar’s cheek, down his shoulder, then paused over his chest—reddened with the marks he’d left. Ishar had grumbled about not leaving any visible traces, and though Veloan had done his best to restrain himself, the evidence remained too clear. The sight made him chuckle softly.

He already looked forward to the moment this beloved person opened his eyes in the morning—and imagined what he might say.

“You must kill me.”

The smile vanished from Veloan’s lips at the sudden, intrusive voice in his head. Though it was Ishar’s voice, he instinctively knew—it wasn’t this Ishar.

“Please… kill me.”

Over Ishar’s peaceful sleeping face, a phantom image superimposed like a sheet of frost.

A lifeless body, limp like a corpse. Worn, despair-ridden violet eyes rising to the surface of his memories. The vision struck Veloan like a blow, suffocating his breath.

“You saw it too—the way Rekayan lost control recently. I’m at my limit. If this continues, I’ll hurt you… and Yujin, whom you love. If you disappear, Eoris will take over again. I want to die as a human. So please… kill me. You’re the only one left in this world who can. Please, I just want it all to end…”

The desperate plea echoed in his mind.

Veloan gently gripped Ishar’s shoulder, grounding himself in the present.

“These aren’t my memories. Just fragments of a dream.” He muttered the words like a chant, trying to shake off the weight of them. Then he focused on the sound of Ishar’s breathing.

The dreams had started after his contract with Eoris. In them, he—Veloan—had lived an entirely different life. So had Ishar.

In that dreamworld, Ishar’s life had been one of endless despair.

The nobility, colluding with Duke Superzen, incited wars with neighboring nations. Through those wars, they secured test subjects and expanded their pursuit of immortality behind the empire’s back.

By the time Ishar realized the truth and tried to shut them down, it was already too late. The beasts that had once dragged Veloan into the abyss—Rasmos and Tuphros—appeared again and annihilated the imperial subjugation forces.

With that, not only the Great Barrier but the warding boundaries of nearby provinces shattered under the monsters’ assault. Major territories like Riccione, Klein, and Elowiniad suffered devastating losses.

During the chaos, the Duke of Riccione died, and his son, Phailen, inherited the title. Phailen came to resent Ishar deeply.

Ishar, in the dream, never rested. He worked tirelessly to contain the growing turmoil across the empire.

But as if waiting for the moment, Genios and Nordrinsa declared independence, throwing the empire into yet another war. Ishar was soon buried under endless state duties.

Meanwhile, the nobles, led by Duke Superzen, sought to reduce Ishar to a mere puppet emperor. After the death of the pro-emperor Duke of Riccione, many turned to Superzen’s side, further isolating Ishar.

And so, his suffering was dragged out, longer and deeper.

In the end, Ishar in that dream was consumed—devoured by the magic tome.

---

Pinky says: Libido? Libi-oh god fuck not again, they’re like rabbits, quick, get the pole.