#jo majesty

[officialjomajesty]

Cover Art for my new single “Ain’t Gon’ Front” dropping 3-23-23

#female rapper #jo majesty #female rappers #hip hop #rapper #ny #ny rap #east coast rap #unsigned artist #unsigned hype #music #new artist #new music #lingiere #baddiiesfr #bad bitch music #bad bitch #bossbitch #pretty bitch music #pretty bitches #gold #aesthetic

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think it's time to put this out there :3

EDIT:

To clear up confusion, I left off Apollo & Nico because

1) Apollo would SLAUGHTER everybody on this poll because He Is The Queer Rep and

2) Nico is very very popular and the poll would be rigged if I put him in, giving him a very unfair advantage over Every Other Very Very Good Queer Rep we have here.

Also apparently Reyna is AlloAce instead of Aro...huh. To me she gave off some strong Aro vibes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, I understand Will Solace is Bisexual in TSATS- however, in as few words as possible, there are so many retcons in TSATS that contradicted canon, so I do not see TSATS as canon. Reasons why are a whole essay that I do not want to write.

Because of this, I still see Will as Gay, as do many others in this fandom. There is absolutely no disrespect intended from this-remember, this is a fictional book series about fictional characters. We are allowed to interpret characters in different ways, and I just so happen to interpret Will as Gay.

Please do not get upset over this, all character interpretations are just as valid as yours. Thank you.

#the trials of apollo #percy jackon and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #hemithea #pjo josephine #pjo emmie #emmie and jo #reyna avila ramirez arellano #alex fierro #magnus chase #piper mclean #lavinia asimov #hiss-majesty #will solace #pjo hoo toa #toa #pjo #hoo #trials of apollo

[radialarch]

trying to motivate myself to finish sex pollen by reminding myself i love sad blowjobs

---

movement. his majesty breathes out, explosive, wipes a hand through the equations with a sudden violence. jo yeong’s already halfway to him when he stumbles down onto a knee.

"your majesty." the labored breathing, and sweat-slick throat. he's never seen his majesty's eyes so dark. "this isn't sustainable." they're running out of options. there are no poisons— the flex of his majesty's fingers against his thigh. his breath on jo yeong’s wrist.

"the cameras are inactive," jo yeong says. he has already imagined his majesty's marital bed; this is just logistics. "the detail's been dismissed. you'll have full latitude to take care of your symptoms when i retire. please—"

"it's worse." his majesty, each syllable bitten off. "when you're not here."

when jo yeong was twenty-four— opening ceremony for a museum. an anti-monarchist had worked construction, smuggled in a receiver cast in polymer. the makeshift gun was only good for one shot, but they hadn't known that.

jo yeong remembers covering his majesty, caging in his shoulders, head down and low. in the enclosed space the smell of gunpowder was thick and stinging. his majesty had gone still beneath him the way he'd been trained, and jo yeong had half his attention on his majesty's pulse, the other half on the comms. hostile detained. atrium cleared. weapon recovered. he hadn't registered the heat in his side until the all-clear, shifting himself off his majesty.

"yeong," his majesty had said. his hand was on jo yeong’s jacket, sticky and wet. "you're hurt." and jo yeong had thought, with a peculiar relief: good. he'd been afraid he'd lose his nerve.

this isn't worse than being shot. this isn't anything. jo yeong's body has been a tool for a long time; it’s not his.

he's on his knees. his majesty's robe is only loosely tied, and jo yeong has wanted this for as long as he's known want.

"i can—" his voice is unrecognizable. his head, bowed, nearly touching his majesty’s shoulder. his shuddering heart. hasn't he been giving it up all this time? it doesn't change what he is to speak it. "if you wish it, i—"

his majesty gets to his feet. "you're dismissed, captain."

jo yeong had a deployment to the east sea, once. it was mid-february; his father warned it'd be cold. the wind didn't let up for three weeks. jo yeong remembers: flecks of light glinting off ice at night. the clear slicing cold stealing his breath, shocking until he went abruptly numb.

“you’re ill, your majesty,” jo yeong says. “i can’t leave you in this state.” this is the first rule jo yeong teaches every new recruit. his majesty’s life over obedience; everything else can be forgiven.

“if i ordered it,” his majesty says. he's barefoot. jo yeong's eyes catch on the skin stretched over the knob of his ankle. "if i said, yeong, stay and have sex with me. you would."

his majesty can be callous, careless; he is not cruel. jo yeong holds himself still so he won't flinch. "you need it."

his majesty, moving. his hand on jo yeong’s face, delicate, tilting him up to meet his eyes. "ah, yeong," he says, almost tender. "what i've made you."

“no, your majesty.” this is an old argument. the night before jo yeong joined the royal guard. his majesty, with uncharacteristic uncertainty: will this change you. jo yeong’s answer is the same now as it was then. “i am what i chose to be.” he would do it again, given the chance. his majesty belongs to the kingdom, but the boy, consumed with grief, and nothing between him and the world— he’s jo yeong’s.

his majesty is close, bright and brittle-eyed. his thumb is sliding along the edge of jo yeong’s jaw. “i won’t ask you not to be angry with me,” he says. as if jo yeong could. as if jo yeong hasn’t already surrendered, his miserable pounding heart laid bare for taking.

his majesty’s mouth, hot and damp. jo yeong’s ribs sliding open for the knife.

#putting your hand on your king's dick while calling him your majesty the whole time: hashtag just jo yeong things #trying not to watch more of my country until i finish this fic but this has not been helpful lmao #gotta get the unhinged sex pollen loyalty kink blowjobs out of my system before i fully fall down the impending woo do hwan rabbithole #who does gay yearning like him. no one. #some wip nonsense

[tybaltsjuliet]

here's the thing about charles dickens. [discussion of his antisemitism, misogyny, and racism ahead.]

his last, unfinished novel, the mystery of edwin drood, features helena and neville landless, heroic and sympathetic south asian (sri lankan, specifically) characters, and the racism they endure in an english town is relevant to the plot to the point where neville ends up falsely accused of murder. in the wake of the indian rebellion of 1857, dickens applauded the english brutality against "that oriental race," and called for genocide.

fagin is called "the jew" 274 times in the first half of oliver twist. an article in the jewish chronicle asked why "jews alone should be excluded from the 'sympathizing heart' of this great author and powerful friend of the oppressed." at first, dickens dismissed this, and claimed he was just being accurate about london's criminal makeup. but he was moved enough by eliza davis's letters to him on the matter that he halted the printing of the latter half of oliver twist so he could change the text and remove the antisemitic language therein.

dickens was an abolitionist who despised chattel slavery in the united states, and called emancipation a "moral duty." dickens didn't think black americans were intelligent enough to vote, and he wrote an entire character in bleak house who is a joke to be disliked and mocked because she'd rather oversee charity missions to help children in africa than be a proper mother and tend to her own family at home in england.

speaking of one's own family at home in england, dickens smeared his wife, catherine hogarth, publicly so he could justify separating from her and taking up with a younger woman. catherine hogarth was likely mentally ill, likely living with postpartum depression. she was also an author in her own right and loved her family dearly. her reputation never recovered in her lifetime from the claims he made about her. in dickens's novels, time and time again, from nicholas nickleby to david copperfield to our mutual friend to the mystery of edwin drood, men who menace and take advantage of vulnerable women are portrayed as the worst kind of villains, deserving of whatever grisly ends come to them.

charles dickens was both privately and publicly a raging asshole in many ways and the world would be worse off without him, because he wrote for bourgeois, comfortable victorians, the very people who so often failed to "think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys." in the same breath that he calls agnes fleming, who opens oliver twist as an unwed mother dying in a workhouse, "weak and erring," he dares to add that "i do believe that the shade of that poor girl often hovers about that solemn nook-ay, though it is a church." he calculated jo's death to the page in bleak house for maximum effect. but when he wrote of the orphaned crossing-sweeper, "dead, your majesty. dead, my lords and gentlemen. dead, right reverends and wrong reverends of every order. dead, men and women, born with heavenly compassion in your hearts. and dying thus around us every day," people listened.

i dedicated years of my life to reading him and studying him and thinking about him and writing about him and his novels. now, i turn to condemn him; now, i turn to justify him. i wish i had a time machine so i could shake his hand. i wish i had a time machine so i could publicly debate him. i wish i had a time machine so i could break his nose.

charles dickens gives me courage and hope. charles dickens makes me want to tear my goddamn hair out. he is everything i despise and everything i love about the victorian age in one; the term "a man of his time" ought to have been invented for him. the leaps and bounds the victorians made for progress in the public good are only matched in greatness by the extremity of their atrocities against their "fellow-passengers" on this earth. the way we think about nearly every modern social ill can be traced back to the 19th century; the way we think about nearly every modern idea of social justice can be traced back to the 19th century. every last one is writ large and small in dickens's novels. he and his age are the greatest contradictions in human history and that's why i can't shut up about them, ever, even when i am exhausted by them, even when i am inspired by them, even when it was two centuries ago and it shouldn't matter anymore, but it does. it always will.

#filthy victorians; they made me what i'm made of. #;swan has a word. #;the long nineteenth century. #;they who call the whole world brother.

[viviuxd]

INNOCENT LOVE : a viking is in love with me! (Part 2)

SYPNOSIS:You are explaining to the Viking king why you cannot marry him, while you do so he agrees to join your belief and leave his gods, just for you.

PAIRING:Viking x Christian!reader

TW:mention of difference in spiritual beliefs.

Part 1

"What are you doing?!" You shouted angrily. Your hands instantly landed on his chest, pushing him back as you averted your gaze, noticing some servants present. You felt embarrassed for exposing your life in front of those people and hid your face, looking down.

Thorkell noticed your sudden change in attitude and chuckled playfully at your shyness. He turned toward your gaze and realized what was happening. He smiled mischievously and stood tall.

"Everyone, out! Our queen needs privacy," he demanded with a deep, powerful voice that echoed in the room.

You watched as everyone present left immediately, almost running. "I am not your queen," you murmured, glancing at him sideways.

"Soon you will be," he affirmed, grabbing your wrist with a firm grip that hurt you a little due to the force he exerted.

They took a few steps until they reached the throne. He let go of your wrist and turned on his axis to stare at you. He examined you with his eyes and then nodded toward the throne where he had been moments ago.

"Sit there," he demanded with the same dominant voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You were about to refuse. You didn't want to give hope that you'd accept, but neither could you decline; you didn't want to be disrespectful. Besides, Thorkell's gaze intimidated you. You were sure you'd have nightmares about him that night.

You climbed the steps leading to the throne. It was huge, imposing, and beautiful, just like Thorkell. You sat on it; it felt strange. You had always dreamed of being the queen of a nation, and now you had the opportunity, but you felt bad for disobeying God's commands.

You shook your head and clumsily got off the throne, embarrassed by what you had just done.

"I can't, I can't be the queen of Dantohira, Your Majesty," you apologized insistently, looking down in a gesture of submission and respect so that Thorkell wouldn't take it as an offense.

"Damn it!... Could you explain why you're forbidden to marry me?" He grunted angrily, one of his hands resting on his head, rubbing his temple.

You played with your hair, trying to calm your nerves a bit. "We're different... You believe in pagan gods, and don't take it the wrong way, Your Majesty," you said. "It's just that I am faithful to my God, my Lord, and I know that it won't please Him for me to join someone who doesn't love Him. Besides other differences..."

"Name them," he replied sharply, staring at you intently.

You sighed nervously, still not ready to have a discussion with the King. "I don't like your customs... I wouldn't like to marry a man who has several women, or a bloodthirsty man. I'd be in constant fear."

Thorkell approached you, this time respecting your space.

"You'll be the only one. I'll never look at other women, and if I do, I promise to gouge out both my eyes."

You chuckled a bit, charmed by what he had just said.

"That would be very nice, but... even so, you would still worship other gods," you looked at him sadly, noticing his attempt to maintain the marriage proposal.

"I'm not asking you to give up what you do for me-" You were interrupted by Thorkell's sudden action.

Thorkell turned around, leaning on the royal throne, grunting.

"Teach me about your God," he grumbled.

°१९*०°

"Then are you going to become a Christian now or something? I never imagined you doing something like this for someone, Thorkell." Tyr, Thorkell's younger brother, mocked him and his infatuation with you.

"Shut the damn mouth, Tyr," Thorkell growled, fed up with his brother's mockery.

"Brother, understand me, you've never been interested in a woman, and now you're doing these stupid things for a Christian girl. I'm starting to think she's a witch or something," he joked again, bursting into loud laughter.

"Anyway, that girl is quite pretty, I don't believe she's still a virgin... surely she's already slept with some lad over there," mentioned one of the guards who was close to Tyr. He was about to burst into loud laughter until Thorkell punched him, causing him to fall to the ground.

"Don't you dare talk nonsense about her, you useless," Thorkell growled as he kicked the guard's face forcefully.

"If she comes out of your mouth again, I'll knock out all your teeth, got it?"

Tyr grabbed Thorkell to prevent more blows, smirked mockingly, and looked at Thorkell.

"You see what I mean? You're more aggressive than usual, and it's because of that girl."

"Thorkell, you're in love with her."

#christian!reader #viking x reader #viking #vikings #thorkell #enemy to lovers #forbidden love #original fanfiction #original works #fanfic #headcanon #killer x reader #yandere x reader

[hpowellsmith]

my brother in law and i have made our ways through all of your available cog stories (you have become a household name); i wanted to ask if there are any choice of games or other interactive fiction you recommend? i saw you answered in 2020, but wanted to see if there's any more on your radar since then!

I have a bunch of links and recommendations over here including my top ChoiceScript games ever. And I am here to recommend lots more!

Please note that I have the time and energy to play very few games and a vanishingly small number of WIPs. This only a tiny snapshot of the amazing interactive fiction out there. Do check out IFDB, sub-Q, the IF Comp and Spring Thing archives, the Narrascope and AdventureX speakers and exhibitors, and the interactive fiction tag on itch.io.

More below because there are A LOT:

Here is a big bunch of ChoiceScript games that I had a great time with!

Choice of Broadsides by Adam Strong-Morse, Heather Albano, and Dan Fabulich

Choice of Romance by Heather Albano and Adam Strong-Morse (note that it is not romantic and is not a dating sim!)

A Crown of Sorcery and Steel by Joshua LaBelle

Blood Moon by @barbwritesstuff

Deathless: the City's Thirst by Max Gladstone

The Dragon and the Djinn by @atharfi

The Eagle's Heir by Jo Graham and Amy Griswold

Fine Felines by Felicity Banks

Hollywood Visionary by Aaron Reed

Nikola Tesla: War of the Currents by Dora Klindžić

An Odyssey: Shadows of War by Natalia Theodoridou

The Play's the Thing by Jo Graham and Amy Griswold

Rent-a-Vice by Natalia Theodoridou

Siege of Treboulain by Jed Herne

Stronghold by Jo Graham and Amy Griswold

Their Majesties' Pleasure by Leia Talon

Thieves Gambit: Curse of the Black Cat by Dana Duffield

Tower Behind the Moon by Kyle Marquis

Turncoat Chronicle by @zincalloygames

Weyrwood by Isabella Shaw

Visual novels:

Analogue: A Hate Story by Christine Love

Dream Daddy by Game Grumps (writers: Vernon Shaw and Leighton Gray)

EXTREME MEATPUNKS FOREVER by Heather Flowers

Ladykiller in a Bind by Christine Love

Other IF-adjacent games with visuals that I have loved:

80 Days by inkle (writers: Jon Ingold and Meghna Jayanth)

Fallen London by Failbetter Games

Overboard! by inkle (writer: Jon Ingold)

Over the Alps by Stave Studios

Twines:

There are so many more that I've enjoyed but these were what popped into my head right now - this is one where it's essential to check out itch.io:

Anything by porpentine charity heartscape especially With Those We Love Alive and Vesp

16 Ways to Kill a Vampire at McDonalds by Abigail Corfman

Cactus Blue Motel by Astrid Dalmady

Detritus by Maz Hamilton (published as Mary Hamilton)

Faith by @kithj

Invasion by Cat Manning

Human Errors by Katherine Morayati

If I Die, Consume Me by @fiddles-ifs

Mama Possum by Kevin Snow

Nine Months Out by @nellplays

Salvage by @atharfi

Tangaroa Deep by Astrid Dalmady

To Spring Open by Yoon Ha Lee and Peter Berman (as Two-Bit Chip)

Parser games:

The Boot-Scraper by Caleb Wilson

The Compass Rose by Yoon Ha Lee (note that I didn't finish this one because I am bad at puzzles)

Galatea by Emily Short

Gun Mute by C. E. J. Pacian (as above)

Laid Off From The Synesthesia Factory by Katherine Morayati

Lime Ergot by Caleb Wilson

Midnight. Swordfight. by Chandler Groover

Take by Katherine Morayati

Games made with other tools:

Cape by Bruno Dias (Raconteur)

Honeysuckle by Cat Manning (Texture)

Prospero by Bruno Dias (Raconteur)

I play such a vanishingly small number of WIPs that it's ridiculous but I did really enjoy what I played of these two and am looking forward to more:

Body Count (@bodycountgame) by @nellplays (Twine)

Chop Shop by Becky @losergames (Twine)

Fervency (@fervency-if ) by Niko Charos (ChoiceScript)

#interactive fiction #choicescript games #twine games #indie games #visual novels

[dangermousie]

* some of these royal gentlemen did not murder daddy but all were believed to have done so by the object of their affection at one point.

** ok he did not kill FL’s fam but he killed enough of his own and married his half sister so I think it compensates? OK, I just want LJK in my poll!

*** not sure he offed her fam but he did take down her whole kingdom so we are gonna count that.

Empress Ki:

Bloody Heart:

Sejak:

Queen Love and War:

Queen for Seven Days:

The King’s Woman:

Goodbye My Princess:

Till the End of the Moon:

Moon Lovers:

Ja Myung Go:

#cdrama #kdrama #poll

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1) Chapter Thirteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Thirteen: One Hell of a Prince

Summary: Sebastian, (Y/N), and Ciel find a strange prince and his khansama in London.

            “Have you still not apprehended the culprit, Abberline?!” cried Lord Randall as (Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel walked up to another crime scene of an Englishman being hung upside down naked in the street.

            “I-I am profoundly sorry, sir!” said Abberline.

            “Failing to catch Jack the Ripper, doing nothing but putting feathers in that brat’s cap…” Randall huffed.

            “That brat? Do you mean Ciel Phantomhive?” said Abberline as he looked over case files. “I cannot help but feel he bears some immense burden even though his is still but a child.”

            “A child?” remarked Ciel, leaning over to see Abberline’s files without announcing himself. “A series of incidents targeting those who have returned from India?”

            “Master Ciel!” exclaimed Abberline.

            “It seems there haven’t been any fatalities yet,” said Ciel. He stepped up and took another paper from Randall’s hands. “ ‘Crazy and lazy children, huh?’ ” He read from the statement of the perpetrator. “The culprit’s choice of words is very accurate. I also think this country would be considerably better off without the nouveau riche who cam back from India. At any rate, this mark is…”

            “They’re making fun of us and Her Majesty the Queen!” declared Randall. “The culprit has to be Indian.”

            “Ah, so that’s why I was called out,” said Ciel. “The vast majority of Indians who have been smuggled into the country are situated in the East End underworld society. Scotland Yard still has no idea of the exact number or their precise location, does it? There is no way we can sit idly by while the royal family is slandered. Let’s go, Sebastian, (Y/N).”

            The small group walked along the port to where many suspects might live. As they walked, a man bumped into Ciel.

            “Oh, so painful!” cried the man dramatically as more men surrounded them. “I think one of my ribs has fractured! Damn it, I might die!”

            “This is terrible,” cried another man. “You should get compensation to pay for a doctor!”

            “You better leave us everything you have,” said another voice in the crowd.

            “We seem to have been surrounded by rather loutish thugs,” remarked Sebastian.

            “So unfortunate. We should clear the way,” said (Y/N).

            “Take care of this quickly,” said Ciel.

            “Understood,” said Sebastian.

            “Hey!” The man grabbed Ciel by the collar. “All the Indians around here have a grudge against you English!”

            Which is fair, all things considered, thought (Y/N).

            The man raised a dagger, and Sebastian flicked him in the forehead. The simple motion threw the man to the ground.

            “Are you alright?” asked Sebastian with a smile.

            “Yes,” said Ciel.

            “You bastard,” growled the man. He raised his dagger again.

            “Wait,” said a new voice. Everyone paused as a two well-dressed men, one with purple hair and the other with white, stepped out onto the street. One held a really terrible drawing. “We are looking for someone. Have you seen this person?”

            “What do you want, you bastard?! Don’t interrupt me!” said the thug.

            “Are you having a duel or something?” said the new man brightly. He blinked as he saw (Y/N) and Sebastian beside Ciel. “Oh, he has a khansama with him. Are you one of the English nobles?”

            “And if I am?” said Ciel coldly.

            “In that case, I shall side with my countrymen in this quarrel,” said the young man. He turned to the man following him, the white-haired one, and said, “Agni.”

            “Yes?” said Agni.

            “Defeat them,” said the man.

            “Jo anja,” said Agni dutifully. He began to unwrap his bandaged right hand. “My right hand, blessed by the Gods, shall be wielded for my master.”

            Agni ran at them. Sebastian grabbed Ciel and jumped out of the way, and (Y/N) blocked Agni’s attack, their eyes narrowing as Agni’s inhuman strength, yet he was as human as anyone. Agni adjusted quickly, turning midair, kicking, flipping, and striking with blows faster than the human eye could be. (Y/N)’s reactions were catlike with precision, perfectly timed with his attacks.

            “I’ve hit your vital points several times now,” said Agni. “You should already be paralyzed. How can you still move?” (Y/N) smirked at his confusion.

            “Hey! We were just passing through here!” said Ciel. “It was those men who looked to rob me.”

            “What? You people, did you attack the little one over there for no reason?” asked the purple-haired noble. “That is not right! This time, my countrymen are at fault. Agni, take the little one’s side.”

            That’s how easy it is to change is mind? (Y/N) raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

            “Understood,” said Agni, and in a moment, all the men were lying in a heap on the ground. “It’s taken care of, Prince Soma.”

            “Good,” said Soma. “Well, then, I was in the middle of looking for someone, so I had better be going. See you.” He sighed and turned away with Agni. “English roads are too complicated. Let’s head left next.” And they just…walked away.

            What strange humans, thought (Y/N).

l

            “I’m completely drained,” muttered Ciel once they made it back to the townhouse. “The culprit might have been one of those we saw.”

            “Let us await Lord Randall’s report,” said Sebastian.

            “Young Master, welcome home,” greeted the rest of the servants.

            “If I keep getting called out to London for all these trivial incidents, there’ll be no end to it,” huffed Ciel.

            “Ah! Earl, you really did come!” Lau opened the front door, not caring for decorum or invitations as usual.

            “You’re always so unannounced!” said Ciel. “I keep telling you, if you’re going to visit, at least send a letter or something first.”

            “Have you said that?” Lau’s memory was terrible as always.

            “Since we have a guest now, I shall prepare some tea,” said Sebastian.

            “Fine,” said Ciel.

            “I’d prefer an English Chai blend,” said a familiar voice.

            “Fi—!” Ciel’s eyes widened as he saw Soma and Agni standing in the doorway.

            “Ah, I met them around the corner,” said Lau. “They said they wanted to meet the Earl.”

            “Why are you here?!” cried Ciel.

            “Why? We got acquainted earlier, did we not?” said Soma.

            “Acquainted?” questioned Ciel.

            “And, also, we saved you,” said Soma, walking confidently into the house.

            “Saved?! In what way?!” cried Ciel.

            “In India, hosting for those to whom you are indebted is common sense,” said Soma. “Is it the English way to throw such people out under the cold sky?” He walked upstairs casually to a bedroom.

            “Who are you anyway?!” demanded Ciel as he threw the door open after Soma and Agni.

            “Me?” Soma was lounging happily on the bed. “I am a prince.”

            “A prince?” asked (Y/N). The rest of the servants peeked into the room next to them.

            “This personage is the Bengal Kingdom’s prince, the twenty-sixth son of the King of Bengal, Prince Soma Asman Cadart,” said Agni.

            “I’ll be imposing on you for a while, Little One,” said Soma.

            Presumptuous. He’s going to be an irritating guest, thought (Y/N).

            “Wow! A prince!” exclaimed Finny.

            “A prince!” echoed Mey-Rin.

            “This is the first time I’ve seen a real prince in the flesh!” said Baldroy.

            “You may approach me,” said Soma. The servants crowded Soma with questions.

            “So, you brought your servants with you this time?” remarked Lau.

            “Yes. We have a guard dog to protect the manor while we’re away now,” said Sebastian.

            “Well, that must be a relief,” said Lau.

            “Sebastian, (Y/N), keep an eye on them,” said Ciel.

            “Understood,” said Sebastian.

            “Yes, sir,” said (Y/N).

l

            “Master Ciel, it is time to wake up.”

            Ciel’s eyes opened before jumping in shock. Agni and Soma were in his room.

            “Namaste, Master Ciel,” said Agni, smiling.

            “Why are you in my bedroom?!” cried Ciel.

            “We’re going out, Little One! Show us around!” said Soma brightly, picking up Ciel.

            “Why should I have to?!” demanded Ciel, trying to push out of Soma’s arms. “And I have a proper name! It’s Ciel, not Little One!”

            “Then, Ciel, I ask that you be our guide,” said Soma. “Come!”

            “Sorry to intrude,” said Sebastian, stepping into the room before Soma could run away with Ciel. “But the Young Master has studies and work duties to attend to today to today.”

            “You’ll have to accompany yourselves,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “No, we shall stay and wait for Ciel,” said Soma, smiling as if that was normal.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched in annoyance.

l

            Sure enough, Soma and Agni were not far behind Ciel as he practiced violin. (Y/N) watched in amusement as Sebastian, in a tutor outfit (which made (Y/N)’s eyes unabashedly roam him), instructed him.

            Ciel played as best he could, and Sebastian listened for imperfections. The melody was interrupted, however, when the sound of prayers began. Agni and Soma had erected a statue of a Hindu goddess and were praying before it.

            “What on earth?” asked Ciel.

            “It seems they’re praying, but that’s a rather fantastic idol, isn’t it?” remarked Lau.

            “I’ve seen Cults. This is reasonable for hu-people,” said (Y/N).

            “All I can see is a statue of a woman carrying a head with a necklace of heads around her neck, dancing on the body of a man,” said Sebastian.

            “She is one of the Hindu gods we worship, the Goddess Kali,” said Agni.

            “Hindi gods, eh?” said Ciel.

            “Kali is the wife of Shiva and a goddess of power,” explained Agni. “In far distant times, a certain demon recklessly challenged her to a fight. Of course, the goddess Kali won. However, after that, unable to quell her destructive urges, she went on a rampage of death and destruction. In a bid to defend the Earth, her husband, the god Shiva, lay down at her feet. Having stepped on her husband with unclean feet, the goddess Kali returned to her senses, and the Earth once again became peaceful. Kali is the great goddess who defeated a demon after a mighty battle. As proof of that, she has the demon’s head in her grasp.”

            “So he says,” said Ciel, glancing back at (Y/N) and Sebastian.

            “To think there was a god as strong as that…” murmured Sebastian. “I will have to be careful if I ever go to India.”

            “I rather liked Egypt when I traveled there,” said (Y/N). They smirked. “I convinced some people to worship me.”

            “Well, then, our prayers are concluded, so let’s go out!” said Soma.

            “As I said, I’m busy!” said Ciel as Soma tried to drag him out again.

            “What are you even doing anyway?” sighed Soma.

            “You’re being distracting. Be quiet!” said Ciel. He picked up his fencing sword. He had practiced violin, now it was fencing. “If you want my attention so badly, then I’ll be your opponent!”

            Soma excitedly took the other sword. “So, if I win against you, you’ll come out with us?”

            “If you can,” said Ciel.

            “Good luck,” said Agni.

            “Well, then, begin!” said Sebastian.

            Agni is going to be beaten, thought (Y/N). He clearly has no idea what he’s doing.

            Sure enough, Agni swung the foil at Ciel’s leg, and it bent.

            “There’s no benefit to hitting the foot with a foil,” remarked Ciel sarcastically.

            Agni parried a few blows and huffed. “That’s unfair! I don’t know the rules!”

            “A match is a match,” said Ciel. “It’s your fault for not knowing.” Ciel had the upper hand and was about to finish the match with a blow to the stomach.

            “My Prince, look out!” Agni intervened. One hand held a cup to block the tip of the fencing foil, and the other struck Ciel’s pressure points, causing his arm to go limp. Agni’s eyes widened as he realized what he’d done. “M-Master Ciel. I’m so sorry. When I thought that His Highness was going to lose, my body moved of its own accord.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. Agni seemed to have some honor, even if Soma seemed immature and naïve. They would remain careful around the unnaturally talented human, but they had to admit, he wasn’t the most intolerable mortal they’d met.

            Sebastian noticed (Y/N) observing Agni, and his eyes narrowed.

            Soma laughed. “Agni, you protected me well. I give you my praise! Agni is my khansama and belongs to me. Therefore, the win was mine.”

            “Th-That’s ridiculous!” said Ciel.

            “Oh, dear, Sebastian, it seems like the Young Master’s honor must be defended,” said (Y/N). They smirked and tossed Ciel’s fallen foil to Sebastian.

            He caught it effortlessly. His eyes turned to Agni. Well, he had to prove a point now that the human had gotten (Y/N)’s attention. “Good grief,” he said. He masked himself easily with disdain at Ciel. “This happened because you teased an amateur who doesn’t know the rules.”

            “My fault?!” huffed Ciel.

            “Nevertheless, as a butler of the Phantomhives, now that my master has been injured, I cannot sit by and watch,” declared Sebastian. “All else aside, we’re ten minutes behind schedule.”

            “So, that’s what you’re really irritated about,” muttered Ciel.

            Not even close to correct, thought Sebastian.

            “I will allow a duel,” said Soma. “Agni, in the name of Kali, do not lose!” Agni bowed and took the fencing foil.

            “Sebastian, this is an order! Shut the brat up!” said Ciel.

            “Make this entertaining, you two,” said (Y/N) brightly.

            “Yes, of course,” said Sebastian, smirking.

            “Jo, ajna,” said Agni.

            “Begin,” said (Y/N).

            Agni and Sebastian were instantly in motion. With each thrust and parry, they danced around one another. Both were perfectly matched for the duel with inhuman grace as they fought. (Y/N) watched in fascination. Agni was most definitely human, but his skills were equal to those of Sebastian at the moment. It was truly fascinating to wat

            At the last moment, Agni and Sebastian both thrust their foil’s out, and the tips met. The foil’s bent. They snapped.

            “Oh, my. The foils snapped,” observed Sebastian.

            “The match is a draw,” said (Y/N), blinking in surprise.

            “Ciel’s khansama is pretty good,” said Soma. “Agni is the best fighter in my palace. This is the first time I’ve seen anyone fight on par with him.”

            Ciel walked to Sebastian and (Y/N) and whispered, “Just what is this man? He’s not one of those…” Reapers…

            “No, he’s definitely a human,” said Sebastian.

            “But with that power…He’s a likely suspect for the hangings,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian nodded. “Indeed. Hanging people would have been an easy task for him…” Perfect. (Y/N) would be wary around him instead of interested in any way.

l

            It seemed that everyone else was having a positive reaction to Agni, as well. When Sebastian and (Y/N) stepped into the kitchen, they expected the usual chaos. Instead, Baldroy, Finny, and Mey-Rin were working well beside Agni.

            “Thanks to everyone’s hard work, it looks like the food will be delicious,” said Agni.

            “This can’t be real,” said (Y/N).

            “Indeed, to have this lot helping you…” Sebastian didn’t have to elaborate.

            “Everyone is born with their own talent,” said Agni. “They have a duty and path laid out for them by the gods. We children of the gods abide by that and do what we can.”

            “You are a most well-rounded individual, aren’t you, Mr. Agni?” said Sebastian.

            “Not at all. Until I met the prince, I was a hopeless fool,” admitted Agni. “I will be forever in his debt. I injured those around me, strayed from the gods, and accumulated many sins. Finally, my day of judgement came. Without leaving any attachment in this world, I would…have died. But Prince Soma gave me a new life. To me, who had not even believed in the gods, who had thrown everything away…A god appeared! Indeed, that day, I saw the holy light of God within the prince.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. An interesting mortal.

            “The prince is both my king and my god,” said Agni. “Therefore, I will use this new life to protect the one who gave it to me and grant as many of his wishes as I can.”

            “Interesting,” said (Y/N), cocking their head. “You truly are devoted to him.” They had no loyalty to anyone in that. Well, almost anyone, but as a demon, they had to be ready to let go of attachments at any moment.

            “Yes,” said Agni. He brightened for a moment. “Ah, and I wanted to say something to you, (Y/N).”

            “Yes?” said (Y/N).

            Agni bowed. “I apologize for fighting you when we first met. Had Prince Soma and I known our countrymen were at fault, I would not have attacked.”

            (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. They put on a smile. “I am perfectly capable of defending myself against you, and you were following your prince’s orders as a servant should.”

            Sebastian’s respect for Agni’s devotion to his master and pure humanity was quickly losing to his desire to throw the man out of the house.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

#one hell of a love #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #demon reader #demon!reader #sebastian x demon!reader #sebastian x reader #black butler sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #black butler x reader #black butler fic #black butler ciel #black butler #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji

[mizldrizl]

Jo Yeong: His Majesty does not like others touching his body.

Also Jo Yeong:

Han Joo Won: I don't like touching people.

Also Han Joo Won:

#The King: Eternal Monarch #더 킹: 영원의 군주 #Beyond Evil #괴물

[maryoliverdotcom]

Virah—Chapter 2

“The Padshah Begum-ji wishes to hear you sing,” a tall, sunburnt man finally announced. “You may enter. Guards, remove your spears—stand at ease.” The guards let their spears fall to their sides, a stoic expression coating their faces.

Qameer drew in a shaky breath. Om namah Shivay, om namah Shivay, om namah Shivay. Victory to Lord Shiva. Cautiously, she stepped into the durbar. She had originally planned to walk in long, sure strides, but right now, she could only focus on not collapsing onto the carpet.

The Padshah Begum was nowhere to be seen. Qameer almost let her shoulders relax—here, take note of the word almost. The relief was gone as quick as its arrival when she caught sight of the courtiers seated on both sides of the carpet, passionate, lustful eyes boring deep into her skull. A man leaned over and whispered something in his friend’s ear.

Qameer rolled her eyes. 

Without warning, a trumpet sounded thrice, followed by a conch. The courtiers stood up, and so did Qameer. She steeled her heart, her grip on the scroll of poetry tightening with each passing second. Om namah Shivay, om namah Shivay, om namah Shivay.

Qameer set her jaw as the Begum entered, her previous nervousness forgotten. There is no place for fear in a poet’s mind. Only truth, and truth only.

Om namah Shivay.

x—x

“Remove the veil,” a sharp voice cut through the silence. “There will be no need for it.”

“But Begum-ji, a woman—”

Her Majesty raised her hand, cutting him off. “I am Padshah Begum. There will be no further discussion regarding this matter.” She raised her chin, looking down at him. “Remove the veil.”

The man’s face remained unchanged as he lifted the purdah in one, swift motion. “Jo agya, Padshah Begum-ji.”

A pause, and then the familiar sounds of the trumpet, followed by the conch. The Begum walked into the durbar, brisk footsteps echoing throughout the room. She took a seat on the Peacock Throne and raised a hand, at which the courtiers sat down. Qameer followed suit, mistrustful of the strength of her knees.

“Mehfil shuru ki jaaye,” the Begum declared, catching Qameer's eye. Her voice was rich and deep, exactly how Qameer had thought a queen’s voice to be. The courtiers briefly paused their daily gossip, turning to look at Qameer with both boredom and amusement.

Qameer swallowed what seemed like bile. Om namah Shivay, om namah Shivay, om namah Shivay.

Maa’s face flashed in her mind. There is no place for fear in a poet’s heart.

Baba, reading her Rumi’s poetry. Only truth, and truth only.

Ma, teaching her how to write. Om namah Shivay.

Hafiz. Om namah Shivay.

Rudaki. Om namah Shivay.

Qameer drew in a deep breath, closing her eyes. She would have no need for the scroll.

“Ae ri sakhi…”

Not a single courtier dared speak as Qameer’s voice cut through the silence of the durbar. “Ae ri sakhi, mai anga anga aaj rang daal du, apne jee se prem rang kaise mai utaar du?”

The Begum’s eyes were fixated on Qameer—her eyes lined with kajal, a bindi placed right between her eyebrows on dark skin. The scroll of poetry dangling loosely from her fingers as she sang, her raised hand and furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes kept returning to her lips, which almost seemed to bend the air to her will. “Ae ri sakhi…”

“Tere bina kahi bhi na vyaakul mann laage—” thunder rumbled lowly in the sky— “birhan sur taal saaj, aaj tere aage…”

Qameer’s voice rivaled that of the thunder, reverberating throughout the durbar as the sky tried to match her poetry with a low rumble. “Nainan ko chain nahin, raina raina jaage—” Qameer opened her eyes briefly. A slight smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as if challenging the raging sky. “Ek pal mai toot jaaye saas ke yeh dhaage—” a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, casting a brilliant glow on Qameer for a split second— “tu jo mooh pher sakhi, deha-praan tyaage…”

The rain kept pounding onto the streets of Aurangabaad, and Qameer kept singing. “Pal bhar tu dekh mujhe, zindagi guzaar du—”

The Begum found herself closing her eyes as she leaned back into her throne. “Ae ri sakhi…”

“Meri sakhi, mai anga anga aaj rang daal du—apne jee se prem rang kaise mai utaar du?”

Qameer’s hand slowly dropped to her side as she drew in a shaky breath, her voice accompanied by the music of thunder. “Ae ri sakhi…”

Om namah Shivay. “Ae ri sakhi…”

A crash of lightning, rattling the window.

Om namah Shivay. “Ae ri sakhi…” 

A low hum. The windowpane had cracked.

Om namah Shivay.

A flash of lightning, enveloping her body. She opened her eyes.

The Begum was standing, a small smile playing on her lips as she clapped, slowly, and the entirety of the durbar joined in. The servants rushed towards the windowpane.

Qameer raised her hand in aadaab.

The Begum smiled. “Tasleem.”

@orgasming-caterpillar @ad15124 @raat-baaki @alhad-si-simran @ioverep @amygdaalaa @lemongrass77777 @someonefromawarmclimate @janaknandini-singh999 @ramayantika @amrut-aa please let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist!

the poetry is inspired by (basically copy-pasted from) the song virah from bandish bandits :)

thank you shre didi @raat-baaki for helping with the dialogue! <3

#virah chapter 2 #gaylord writes #i'm so scared omg. currently going through writer's block i'm so sorry

[prismartist]

“Have you ever thought about death, Joe?”

Joe looks at the King, or rather at the back of his head. The King’s gaze is fixed on the full moon outside, framed by the window. In the private chamber, the blackstone whistles as a gust of cold wind blows in, ruffling the King’s fur rather literally. Bdubs is nowhere to be seen; Joe doesn’t feel like asking about that. The King had greeted Joe with determination set on his gray face, everything from his posture to the gray of his skin seeming like stone. It’s the most serious and sincere Joe’s seen the King in months, compared to his overt and almost comedic dramatism. It’s strange, how he seems the most serious in his bedroom, away from prying eyes. 

Joe supposes it won’t hurt to answer. “I suppose I have, my liege. I think we all think about death at one point or another. It’s an undisputed fact of life, except for certain flavors of immortal.”

The King hums in acknowledgment, though not so much in thoughtfulness. He doesn’t speak again for a bit. Joe holds himself awkwardly in the delicate atmosphere. He thinks he should be scared, summoned to the King’s private area in the dead of night with nary another soul to be seen, but the confusion and sleep deprivation overrides it. He decides to give the King some respectful prodding to move the conversation along.

“May I ask why I was summoned, my King?”

The King heaves in a breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot about death, Sir Joe. I have been thinking about it a lot.”

It’s Joe’s turn to hum.

The King continues, “Every King must consider the possibility of failure, is that not so? Of… death.”

“Again, sire, I’d say that everyone must.”

“That is true, that is true.” The King turns his head to the side but does not look at Joe. “And thus, so have I. Especially regarding… the coming events.”

“The minigames.”

“Yes. In the… slim chance, that we are overthrown, that the peasants are victorious… I’d like to create one last thing as King. With- with your help, of course.” 

“And what is that, your Majesty?”

The King finally turns completely, light shifting around his form as he moves, and meets Joe’s eyes. It strikes Joe that he has taken off his diamond glasses, and his eyes aren’t tinted blue for the first time in a while.

“Joe,” Ren says, “I’d like a poem, please.”

Joe blinks. “Why?”

Another sigh as Ren tilts his head, casting his gaze to the carpet below. “I know my kingdom is crumbling, man. I’d like to have something to- to remember this time, to both cherish and mourn it. To put it to a proper end. Simply a will of sorts, if I may.”

“A will.”

“Yes.”

Joe doesn’t have the heart to tell Ren that wills usually include leaving assets to beneficiaries, or that the word he’s looking for is probably “valediction”, so he asks instead, “What exactly would you like for me to write?”

More silence. Ren opens his mouth, then closes it, then says, “Whatever you see fit, Sir Joe. Thou art the poet, not I; I trust your words.”

“Have you told the others about this?’

“No.”

Above anything, Ren’s brevity surprises Joe the most. “Will you?”

Ren sighs. “I don’t think so. I don’t think I need to.”

“So you want to keep it personal.”

A pause, then Ren nods. 

“I can start on it right away. I think a limerick will be most befitting for you.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I approve. That would be lovely. Will you…” Ren shuffles his feet, and Joe marvels at the amount of surprises he’s seen tonight. Then Ren straightens and seems to summon back some conviction. “Will thee care to write thine poem here by moonlight, so that I might surveyeth thine writing?”

Joe can’t help but bow at the kingly voice. “I will, your Majesty.” 

Ren gestures to the desk, and Joe takes a seat, pulling out a notebook and a quill. Ren walks over, a looming dark presence that blocks the moonlight.

“...your Majesty, I kind of need the light to see.”

“Oh. Of course, my apologies.” And Ren moves to the other side. “So what exactly is a limerick?”

“Well, it’s traditionally a comic verse, for jokes and lighthearted stuff. But it has a quite a grand tone.”

“I see.”

“Where would you like for me to start?”

“Well… let’s start with a baker.”

“You got it.”

“Thank you, Joe.”

Joe looks up, and for one more surprise, Ren smiles down at him. Joe nods, and puts his quill to paper. 

“You’re welcome, Ren.”

#that post abt how ren probably asked joe to write the poem helping his king out one last time.... yeha #mcyt #hermitcraft #hermitcraft s9 #joe hills #rendog #rentheking #prismatic writing

[radialarch]

fell asleep thinking about werepanther jo yeong which implies werekitten jo yeong tumbling after lee gon all through childhood and i hope the day jo yeong stretched up on his hind legs and draped his forepaws over lee gon's shoulders and lee gon realized jo yeong was bigger than him was formative in some kind of way

#jo yeong [seriously]: i would never hurt your majesty #lee gon: ok but what if #lmao just thinking about the king's loaded wolf again but jo yeong is so sleek and fastidious he could only be a cat #duty's just another word for love #blogger yells at void

[funkyllama]

Queen Viviana, the Ionian Union's Second Monarch, has died at Wittmund aged 76, after reigning for nearly 41 years.

She died on Monday morning, after Republican rioters interrupted a joint press conference between Her Illustrious Majesty and the Emperor of Pierreland.

The Princess Adrienne, Count Raheem, and Countess Viola arrived at Wittmund shortly after the incident. Princess Eloise was present; The Queen's other child, the Princess Bernedette will leave for Bergstrasse with her husband on Thursday.

Foreign royalty of Europesim, and close friends, were notified, privately this morning, of the details on Queen Viviana's funeral service.

The Queen was born Viviane Tallulah Ilse von Hügel-Rodchester, on 9 July, 1947 to Grand Duke Orville (Later Everette III) and Grand Duchess Laverne. Her mother passed away when the Queen was only five years old, leaving her and her sister in the hands of her aunt Imogene. Despite being her father's eldest child, she was to be raised as a dutiful spare. In 1956, her father married the now Dowager Queen Hana, forming the Ionian Union. A year later, her brother, Prince Stephen was born.

At the age of 18, the then Princess Viviane swore her allegiance to her people. Throughout the years of King Everette's War, the Princess supported the peoples voice over that of her father. In that same year, she grew close to Walter "Paul" Wagner, the president of their Universities Socialist Workers Party of Iona and Student Peace Union groups. The couple married two days after her 19th birthday and the couple welcomed their first child, Princess Adrienne, later that fall.

Together, the couple raised two daughters, welcomed three grandchildren, and lived happily for 46 years, until King Paul's death in 2012.

Her Majesty is survived by, Her siblings: Crown Princess Lorraine of Uspana (Arnaut: German; Abelina; Fernando; Guiomar) and Countess Rose Mary (Josef: Celina; Claire), and Grand Duke Stephen (Rayner: Stephany; Jo). Children: Countess Adrienne and Grand Duchess Bernedette (K'yeon) And Grandchildren: Count Raheem (Viola), Countess Eloise, and Prince Erik (Eddard).

Goodbye my love. @officalroyalsofpierreland @trentonsimblr and @nexility-sims for mention.

#royal simblr #sims 4 screenshots #sims story #ts4 story #s4 story #ts4 storytelling #ts4 royalty #simblr #sims 4 #ch vivi #screaming crying

[the-dust-jacket]

Hello. I've already read the Kingston Cycle, Half a Soul and I'm about to finish the Stariel books. Do you have more recommendations? Thank you in advance.

Oh absolutely!

A Matter of Magic, by Patricia C. Wrede (for cross-country Regency romps, rogues, magicians, spies, and Ladies of Quality)

A Marvellous Light, by Freya Marske (for murder and mystery and secret Edwardian wizardry, romance, grand old houses and creepy curses)

Spellbound, by Allie Therin (for forbidden love, found family, and frightening magic in 1920s New York)

Shades of Milk and Honey, by Mary Robinette Kowal (for frothy and impeccably evocative Regency magic)

Sorcerer to the Crown, by Zen Cho (for schemes both magical and mundane and the world of fairy crossing into the world of the tonne)

To Say Nothing of the Dog, by Connie Willis (for laugh-out-loud time travel shenanigans and questionable Victorian aesthetic choices)

Soulless, by Gail Carriger (for vampire assassins, werewolf aristocrats, interrupted tea time, and other terrible inconveniences which may beset a young lady)

A little darker:

The Magpie Lord, by KJ Charles (for semi-secret magical society, creepy family estate, steamy romance all in an Extremely Victorian Gothic setting)

Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, by Susanna Clarke (clever and deeply atmospheric tour of a magical 19th century England, but definitely not romance)

Salt Magic, Skin Magic, by Lee Welch (for curses and magical bonds and frightening fairies)

Widdershins, by Jordan L Hawk (for Gilded Age mystery and romance featuring Lovecraftian horror and humor)

More fantasy:

Uprooted, by Naomi Novik (for fairytale magic and whimsy, adventure and romance and creepy trees)

Seducing the Sorcerer, by Lee Welch (for wizard fashion, romance and humor and whimsical magic)

Stardust, by Neil Gaiman (for wild romps in the fairyland next door, alternately humorous and haunting)

More historical:

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by KJ Charles (for saucy Regency romance and determined social scheming)

Cold Comfort Farm by Stella Gibbons (for dry humor, wacky hijinx, and extended family shenanigans)

Hither Page or The Missing Page by Cat Sebastian (village and manor house mysteries respectively, featuring lots of queer romance and found family with a dash of jaded post-war espionage)

I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith (for yearning and laughs and first love and an eccentric family living in an increasingly run down castle)

A little farther from the brief, but might be worth checking out On Vibes:

The Left Handed Booksellers of London, by Garth Nix

The Chronicles of Chrestomanci, by Diana Wynne Jones

His Majesty's Dragon, by Naomi Novik (more Regency fantasy, but full on Age of Sail adventure rather than comedy of manners, romance, or secret magic)

Among Others, by Jo Walton

Arabella of Mars, by David D. Levine

A Natural History of Dragons, by Marie Brennan

It also sounds like a Georgette Heyer or Jeeves and Wooster binge would be really fun right now!

#ask a bookseller #love that? read this!

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 16 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2268

Warnings: language

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"Hey sis", Jonathan gave you a sad smile, "Want me to bring you anything?"

You shook your head, never taking your eyes away from the orange hues that painted the horizon. "No thank you, I'm alright", you said softly.

Jonathan looked at your bare feet, toes scraping the wet sand as the waves kissed them. The hem of your dress, already wet by the ocean, was stuck on your calves as you dangled your legs under the rock on which you sat. Your eyes looked empty; your face remained expressionless when you did not have to face him. He had never seen you look this sad. Even when your heart ached in the past you always used to put on a show for the people you loved; now it was not enough to mask your pain.

"You'll catch a cold", he said, "Please come inside"

"I won't", you assured him, "I'll go back in in a bit. I just want to see the sunset"

Jonathan bit his lip. He wanted to cry. Eventually, he nodded and left you on the secluded beach, climbing back up the stairs to the castle. He rubbed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was standing outside the new King's office. He heard murmurs; then steps. He ran to hide in the shadows of the nearest column. The door opened.

"I appreciate it, Your Majesty", Gilbert stood proud at the height of an Emperor. He had announced his new title as soon as he and y/n returned to Istidor.

The moment Gilbert was gone, Emerich ran back to the office. He stood in front of the closed door until he gathered enough courage to knock.

"Come in", his father's rough voice came from inside.

It was a wonder how Jonathan kept himself from trembling as he stepped inside. King Edward sat on a large chair, his arms resting on the sides. His face was scared from battle, his hands were calloused from training. His longsword leaned against his desk, taller than half of Jonathan's height already. He was proof that some people were born to rule.

"Jonathan", he said as if addressing a soldier rather than a son, "What is the matter?"

His eyes were still glued on his paperwork as Jonathan approached his desk.

"It's y/n", he said, "I don't think she's alright".

The King raised his gaze along with one of his thick eyebrows.

"She doesn't love Gilbert", Jonathan continued.

King Edward let out a heavy sigh. "Love is a luxury for people like us. he said, "Marriage is built on things much sturdier than love. Things that come with time"

"But why can't she have both?", Jonathan took a step forward, "You're King now so our fates are finally in your hands. Chevalier-"

"You said yourself that that man's goal is to unite the continent under his name", the King intervened, "What he wants is our army and our gold. As a King, I cannot trust a sliver of my Kingdom to a man like him and as a father, I surely cannot concede that my daughter spends her days with someone who sees her as his key to power".

Jonathan covered his face with his hand. Those were his thoughts indeed. He had discussed the matter with his father when y/n first told him about her feelings for Chevalier. He never expected this escalation. But after speaking with Chevalier in person he had seen for himself that there was a heart behind those cruel eyes, and that heart bled from love. "I'm not so sure that is the case", he said quietly.

"I cannot base this decision on your instinct alone. I need facts. Gilbert loves her and I know he aims to build a new name for the Obsidianite Empire, one that is not a synonym of war. But all I've heard about Chevalier is his gruesome feats in combat and the countless assassins after him"

"Y/n is not stupid. She'd know if-"

"You're very smart yourself, Jonathan", the King interrupted him once more, "Yet you should know more than anyone how blinding love can be".

Jonathan lowered his gaze. His father was right. "I understand I'm not the best person to be speaking about judge of character", he said softly, "Still, wouldn't it be worth it to give it a chance? Don't you wish that y/n has what you and Mom did?"

King Edward leaned back on his chair. He brought his hand to his lips, taking a moment to consider his son's words. "Alright", he finally said, "You are right. Ruling is a hard and lonely job. If y/n has someone she loves by her side it will be a hell of a lot more bearable". He leaned closer. "Go find him. Convince him to speak to me. But don't tell him anything about my concernsof him", the King continued, "That said, Jonathan, I don't want you causing commotion either".

Jonathan frowned. "Of course I won-"

"I mean it", King Edgard narrowed his eyes, "Don't tempt any rumours and especially don't let your brother get too involved. We don't want another scandal"

Jonathan bowed his head. He nodded so that his father knew that he understood. "Yes father", he said, "Thank you"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sneak attack!", Clavis drew everyone's attention to him as he charged in the dining hall, sword in hand, heading straight towards his older brother. Everyone's attention but Chevalier's it seems, who continued to casually flip the pages of his book even as Clavis' sword stopped mere inches from his head.

"Clavis, are you insane?", Emma shrieked but Clavis ignored her.

"That could have killed you, you know", the jester prince smiled nervously.

Chevalier breathed a heavy sigh. "I don't have time for your adolescent nonsense", he flipped another page in his book.

"Clavis, put that thing away!", Leon got off his seat.

"You always have time for my adolescent nonsense when something is not bothering you", Clavis's gaze did not waver.

Chevalier finally tore his eyes away from his book to meet his brother's. He always pushed even when -no, especially when- Chevalier did not want him to.

"Rejoice! It's your birthday! And I know how to cheer you up", Clavis finally returned his sword to his scabbard, "I have a surprise for you!"

"I've heard enough", Chevalier pushed his chair back and headed towards the library, where he had resulted to spend his nights.

"You'll regret it if you don't come, I'm afraid"

"Clavis, is this another pitfall?", Yves's tired voice was heard from the other side.

"Gods no!", Clavis cheered, "Those are reserved for you, little brother, cause you just look so adorable all scrambled up!"

"Fine", Chevalier cut him off, "But if you waste my time be ready to meet the consequences"

"Oooh scary...", Clavis shook his palms before throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder. Chevalier looked at him with repulsion. "Don't worry, I am the best at giving people gifts"

Clavis led Chevalier to a secluded part of the garden. Anyone else would be crawling with nervousness, but Chevalier merely rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and waited for Clavis to reveal his card. He did not know why he entertained his foolishness but deep down he hoped that he had indeed found a way to make his days more bearable. Because if anyone would have noticed the cracks that ran through his heart no matter the pretence he put on to perform his royal duties, it would be him.

"We have arrived", Clavis said proudly as they reached the gazebo.

Chevalier raised his eyebrow; there was nothing here.

No. There was only a shadow. He had almost missed it.

He turned his head and that's when he saw him; showered by the darkness of the early night, Jonathan leaned against one of the gazebo's pillars. Chevalier's heart fell. No matter how unlikely he still hoped his eyes would meet the beautiful shine of y/n's under the moonlight.

"If you've come to kill me perhaps you should divert your attention to the actual threat", he told him blankly.

"Impressive", Jonathan smiled, "People don't tend to notice me"

"Say that after I find you when you didn't want to be noticed", the Rholoditian King climbed the steps to meet the foreign prince. "What do you want?", he asked.

Chevalier frowned. Why and how would he help him? His mind raced through the worst case scenarios. His brows furrowed in anger, "Did he do something?"

"No", Jonathan pushed himself off the column, "She's fine- well-".

The prince took a deep breath. He kept his head low as he shook it. He walked past Chevalier. The King suddenly felt lighter. He turned around; Jonathan had swiped the book he had been reading. Chevalier observed as the prince read the title, along with the inscription behind the cover. There was no chance he would not recognize one of his sister's books. She had left it behind before hurriedly returning to Istidor, and it was all Chevalier had been reading ever since.

"It appears your brother was right", Jonathan spared Clavis a look before returning it to Chevalier, "You're not well either"

Chevalier gave his brother an angry look. "Hey don't look at me", Clavis shook his hands,"I said I was happy to see you in pain"

"Clavis."

The jester prince responded with a heavy sigh to Jonathan's scolding. His amused expression gave way to a serious one, publicly for the first time in years. "I hate myself for saying this", he hesitantly muttered, "but you look like father".

That sentence reminded Chevalier that he owned a heart, because at that moment it sunk to the depths of the Earth. "I'm not him", he said, the feeling of y/n tears drenching his shirt after that man had assaulted her suddenly feeling once again all too real.

"I'm not saying you are but...".

Clavis shoved his hands in his pockets. He let out a heavy sigh and turned his head away. "Don't make me say it, you piece of shit"

"You two are gonna make me cry", Jonathan scoffed, "You look like shit and he's worried about you. And I worry about my sister"

"She made her own choice", Chevalier said firmly, "I have no right to-"

"Do you love her?", Jonathan interrupted. He took a step closer as Chevalier frowned in confusion.

"What?"

"It's a simple question ", Jonathan continued, "Do. You. Love. Her?"

Chevalier stiffened. He hated this question. He hated how it called on the feeling he once despised and now held dearer than his own life. And most of all he hated that he had to admit it for the first time to someone other than y/n; but he knew Jonathan would not take anything other than "yes" or "no" for an answer.

"You know I do", his voice came strangled.

Jonathan nodded. "Then fight for her"

"That battle was lost the moment we were born"

"That's not true. There's", Jonathan appeared reluctant, "Two things stand in your way: the King's council and the King himself. My brother can help you appeal to the nobles. But you have to speak to my father yourself"

"And your brother will help?"

"Well", Jonathan rubbed the nape of his neck, "I guess you have to talk to him too. I can come with, but he won't speak to me"

Someone else would have asked why. But it did not matter to Chevalier. "So where is he?"

"I....don't know"

"He's in Benitoite", Clavis reminded them with his melodious voice that he was still there. "What?", he shook his shoulders, "I like him so I keep tabs"

"That's concerning"

"Agreed"

Both Chevalier and Jonathan said. But there was no other option.

"You two geniuses think there is no way for you to be together", Jonathan remarked, "But did you even try to find one?"

Chevalier did not respond. The foreign prince was right. Going against y/n's choices was what he wanted least, but the moment she was ripped away from him his will to follow up on that notion became much weaker. If Jonathan was right, that she felt the same as him, and he could present her a path they could walk down together then he had to do it.

"Clavis", he said, "Fetch Four-Eyes"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles away, in the luscious land of Istidor, Gilbert threw an arm around his beloved's shoulders as he sat next to her on the couch. She did not push him away but neither did she cuddle closer to him as his arms enveloped her.

"What are you reading?", he rested his chin on her shoulders.

She flipped another page on the old and tattered book. "I just found it", she shook her shoulders, "It's poems. You wouldn't like it"

"I like poems", Gilbert reached for the book. He flipped to see the cover. "The romance of the rose", he read. Y/n pulled her legs to her chest. "Thus, if I ever knew the sickness of love, you will carry on with little sleep, throughout the night", Gilbert read, "And when you can’t bear your suffering lying awake in your bed, you will have to dress, put on your shoes, and adorn yourself. Then, whether it is raining or freezing, you will go in secret directly to the house of your sweetheart, who will be sound asleep, with hardly a thought of you "

"I think i'll just go to bed", y/n hurriedly put on her slippers and ran upstairs to the bedchambers.

"Oo...kay?", Gilbert was left dumbfounded, with only the book and the memory of her warmth as his company. Gilbert closed the book and checked the cover once again. He clenched his fist. He did not know the exact details, but he felt it in his bones that this was about Chevalier; it was always about Chevalier.

He threw the book away and covered his bare eye with his hand. He had won her hand back, but he could never reclaim her heart.

#the obsidianite jewel #ikepri #ikemen prince #chevalier michel #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri chevalier #ikepri gilbert #ikepri x reader #chevalier x you #ikepri chevalier x reader #ikepri gilbert x reader #gilbert von obsidian x you

[jammed-out]

Hypnovember Day 20 - Transformed

(CW: Siren, pirate, someone being pushed off of a cliff, sex on a beach)

The siren’s song echoed across the waves. There in the cove, over the sound of the crashing waves on the shore, the most beautiful voice rang out across the sea. It was as if it was a chorus of voices, blending and mixing together in harmony, a symphony of one. Each part of it cascaded onto the one before it, like a wave crashing into itself. It mixed with the sea and the wind, blending into the perfect storm of sorrow and desire.

Captain Elspeth Mordan stood on the shore, her hand rested on the hilt of her sword. She stared at over the vast ocean, its dark waves crashing upon themselves, illuminated only be the moonlight reflecting upon it. Her ship was moored out there, somewhere, in the distance. Something had brought her to this place, something that sang out across the ocean, something that only she could hear. The crew thought her mad as they approached the island, a heavily fortified property that no pirate would dare step onto. But the crew of Captain Mordan was no ordinary crew. Her crew was filled with the most cunning, smartest, and most daring pirates that had ever sailed under the sea of stars.

But there, on the cliff on the far side of the island, sat a castle. Even by night, the polished white stone shone in the moonlight as though it were day. Many windows remained lit by golden glow. From one of them, Elspeth could hear the song. She reached to her side, unfastening the clasp around her spyglass. She extended it, peering through it. The lines of carriages slowly approached the large wooden gate towards the top. As the captain had learned, tonight would be a ball, and there was never quite as good of a time to strike for treasure as a ball.

--

“Presenting, the privateer of his majesty’s fleet, The Captain Melgrane and his first mate, Lady Elspeth.”

Elspeth grimaced, it was a good idea to play first mate and instead let Jo Melgrane take the lead. He was the finest forger and impersonator on this side of the world, however, Elspeth did not have to like the idea of playing second in command.

Jo took the lead, moving into the courtyard. Elspeth followed a step behind. Her pirating garb had been replaced by the royal navy’s colors that they had robbed off of a passing ship a few weeks past. Her hair, now brushed and washed, combed behind her head and pulled tightly into a ponytail made her scalp feel tight and pulled. She hated the pomp and circumstance. Her chest felt bound by the garment instead of her usual flowing unbuttoned shirt. Everything was cramped into this outfit.

The ballroom on the other hand, was so vast that even with the hundreds of guests there was more than enough room to move about. Jo paused and gestured around to the many riches that adorned the guests. Glittering stones and gold jewelry hung off of them in abundance. Jo made a point to pause on the occasion, gesturing towards the help, or rather the help that Elspeth’s crew had carefully replaced. Some were moving about collecting coats, swiping a bracelet here and there. Others were handing out drinks and food on trays, keeping an eye turned towards the captain herself. They were here for something, however Elspeth was not aware of what.

“Spread out. Keep an eye out for anything valuable. Try to break away with Smidge if you can, get upstairs to the private rooms where the good stuff is.” Elspeth murmured to Jo leaning in slightly. She pat their shoulder and broke off, carefully slipping through the crowd.

Elspeth passed unseen through the swarm. She was lucky enough to be able to keep her sword at her side, she half hoped that they wouldn’t demand to check weapons and was lucky to be rewarded for her optimism. It was much harder to commit a crime if you had to double back. Every so often she would slip a coin purse into her hand from a gentleman’s belt as she passed by, carefully dropping it into the awaiting hand of one of her many crew members as they crossed paths. It was a routine snatch a grab tactic that they had perfected over time, one they had run many times before.

“Will you dance with me?” A hand wrapped around her wrist, not tightly, but gently prying it away. Her fingers slid off of the coin purse she had been about to swipe.

Elspeth’s eyes raised slowly over the green silk glove that traveled up the arm of the woman restraining her. The flowing green dress that cascaded with blue accents in waves from her shoulders down to her waist before billowing outward in plumes of ocean waves. Elspeth looked up the woman’s dark skin, over her lips, soft, plump, accented by blue lipstick that matched her eyes, eyes that Elspeth could fall into like the depths of the ocean. Rich sand dusted curls hung down from her head dancing over her eyebrows before falling down towards her shoulders.

Elspeth’s breath caught in her throat. She stumbled over the appropriate response, even as the woman slowly led her towards the dance floor. The captain had never fumbled before. She had swooned and stollen the hearts of men and women all across the oceans and yet, none had ever held her like this. She could not speak, nor did she want to.

“I knew you would come to me. None can resist my song.” The woman chuckled softly, not cruelly but in a playful manner. It was as if a thousand bells chimed.

Elspeth felt the dance change directions. She turned, spinning the woman outward from her. Slowly the woman rolled back into her arms, a gentle pivot as they resumed their posture. “You’re the voice I hear. The one I followed across the oceans.”

The woman nodded and turned, pivoting slightly, her dress floating just slightly as she did. “And you came to find me.”

The captain pulled the woman closer, shifting posture. Her hand slid around her body, the dress becoming pressed between the pair. “Why me? What do you want with me?”

“It is rather what you want with me.” Elspeth pursed her lips. The song was coming to an end. She slowly released the woman, her hands moving to clap for the band, but while everyone else turned their attention towards the performers, Elspeth did not look away from the woman. The woman turned back, her eyelids drifting slowly lower. She tilted her head towards the balcony on the far side of the room, the curtains blowing in the open doorway. She led, taking the captain’s hand and gently tugging, beckoning her to follow. Elspeth allowed herself to be led blindly.

The curtains broke way, the chilly wind of the night air blowing in Elspeth’s face as they stepped outside. Her hair billowed behind her, the ponytail dancing in the night air. The woman slowly released her hand, traveling over to the railing. She leaned against the marble railing and looked out longingly over the ocean. Elspeth advanced slowly, her hand trailing to the sword at her hip, she did not know this woman and some part of her sensed she was in great danger.

“I have heard many tales about you. The great Captain Elspeth Mordan, feared pirate, the craftiest of criminals, the cursed pirate.” Elspeth tugged on the hilt, the blade coming free in the night with a solid swish. It sat placed an inch from the woman’s back, her hair blowing over the blade, the dark metal, untouched by the night air. Elspeth’s eyes burned, dark smoke trailing from the edges of her pitch black eyes. “The one who signed her soul to the sea for a thousand years on the ocean, bound to never find love or companionship except from the waves.”

Elspeth pressed the tip against the woman’s dress, the fabric smoking as it frayed beneath the cursed sword. “Speak plainly or see yourself make a quick fall into the deep below.” The words were icy, chilling the air between them with a cold bite.

“You are not the only one cursed by the sea. I wished to be free of its shackles, now I may not leave this island without the love of a broken heart. But to be a siren…” The woman turned slowly, the blade burning a dark stain across her dress. Her eyes burned a deep blue swirling wave, her skin shimmering in the moonlight with an undercurrent of sea dazed glitter. Her face was somber with longing. “Is to only be loved by those you blind with your song. To truly be loved, I dreamed impossible.”

Elspeth lowered the blade to her side. “Your song was not a call to me for love.”

“It was a call for your blade. A cursed blade to slay a cursed creature.” The woman looked up at Elspeth, longing in her eyes. She stepped forward slowly, her fingers reaching out to trail over the captain’s hand. “I implore you, please end my misery. I can no longer bare to stare out at the ocean, a world I can no longer call home.”

“You could simply sing to me and command my will.” Elspeth’s hand raised to the woman’s neck, her thumb wrapping around it as she gently raised her head to look into her eyes. The curse softened, black smoke abating to reveal her eyes.

“I would not force that act upon any. I can only implore you. My heart can not bare this burden. Please my captain, would you do me this honor?”

Elspeth’s throat tightened. She slowly pushed nudging the woman backwards against the railing. She felt her gasp softly as she pressed against it, slowly being leaned over the edge of it. Elspeth looked at her, her lips so ready for the taking. She had never wanted any like this before. Over the edges of the earth, over one hundred years, none had ever enticed her like this. Her hand raised, thumb tracing over the woman’s lips. They parted slightly, a salty breath escaping against the thumb.

Neither woman spoke, merely lost in the moment. Elspeth leaned forward towards the woman. Her lips lowered to her ear, breath heavy with a desire she had never seen before. “Call to me from the ocean and I shall run to you.”

Elspeth shoved, her hand pushing the woman by her head out over the railing. Surprise etched across her face as she fell backwards. Her dress billowed in the night air, bright shining wave that rippled as she fell rapidly to the dark depths below. She fell with a soft crash into the night, disappearing beneath the depths at the base of the cliff. The waves crashed, cracking upon the rocky base.

Elspeth spun, sheathing her sword. She turned, her first mate, Endraeth, dressed as an attendant standing by the window, her face stoic, no surprise or emotion on it. Elspeth crossed, stopping just to the right shoulder of Endraeth, pausing, their shoulders separated by a mere inch. She waited.

Endraeth did not turn, instead continuing to look out at the waves. “Should I be concerned Captain?”

Elspeth stared out over the party, the many guests oblivious to what had transpired. “I am finished here. I will return to the ship by morning, see that my quarters are prepared for a guest.”

“Should we plan to leave port by then? Or prepare a-“

“There will be no need for a return trip. See to it that the crew is well fed and prepared. We break for the other seas at dawn.” Elspeth turned her head to look at her first mate. “And see to it we are well stocked. We will be having a-“ A song danced on the air, the beginning notes of a tune that only Elspeth could hear. A smirk played at the edge of her lips “permanent addition to the crew.”

Elspeth turned and began to take a step forward when Endraeth’s hand caught her by the sleeve. “Captain, are you sure this is wise. I have sailed with you a decade now and I am not quite sure that you have considered what you are about to do.”

“You know as well as I do that a sailor can not resist the song of the siren.”

“Aye, but you are no ordinary sailor and that is no ordinary song.”

Elspeth nodded. “If I do not return by dawn, see to it the ship rides to glory.” She tugged her arm free and with it made her way through the party.

--

Elspeth stood at the top of the beach. There at the base, shining in the moonlight, was a woman, not unlike the one she had seen before. She lay upon the sand, basking the waves, her hair while wet, blew in the breeze. Elspeth stumbled forward, her feet tripping under her as she ran across the beach. She was thankful for the change back into her captain’s gear, her boots head more traction on the wet sand. Yet still she fell to her knees before the woman, just a foot out of reach.

The song had only grown stronger while she was away. It built, swelling into a storm that bellowed in her ears, vibrating within her chest, dragging her towards the source. She could not resist it, the song of the siren, when it called to you, to resist it was to break your very mind with insanity, to give in to it was to meet a certain death at a watery grave. Elspeth was prepared for the latter to be true.

“I called to you and you came running.” The woman said, her finger drawing circles in the sand. “And yet, you still can not love me.”

Elspeth crawled forwards onto her hands and knees. “I can not love or be loved, but then why can I not resist you. The sea would not send me to you for I can not be taken from my ship and yet, the longing in my chest can not be stopped.”

The woman reached up and brushed her hand through the opening in the captain’s shirt. Salt water stained the edges of the red top. Her hand cold, brushed against the pale bare skin, her fingers trailing over the soft flesh. “I would have you even if you could never love me. I long for your presence, the raw power that boils within you set me free, it should only be that I do the same to you.” The waves crashed against her legs, scales slowly forming on them only for them to fade as the water pulled away. Her bare body shimmering beneath the moonlight and stars.

“I can not love you in the way you deserve in your majesty.” Elspeth said turning her head away.

The woman gripped her chin tugging her head back roughly. “Yet you can worship me as no other ever could, for how could I harm one who can not be harmed. How can I force the sea to take one who can not be taken. You could grant me pleasures that no other ever could.” Her thumb gripped Elspeth’s chin and tugged it down, opening her mouth gently.

“Pray tell me your name so that I may cry it as your lips tear my soul from my body.” Elspeth whispered softly over the roaring wind.

“Cariote…” The woman whispered lunging forward. She dove at the captain, her lips wrapping around the humans. Elspeth could taste only the salt of the ocean on her lips, it burned in the small cuts on her lips and yet, she reveled in the sensation. The captain dove forward, pushing them backwards into the shallows of the ocean. The waves crashed against the pair soaking them both. The cold water soaked into the captain’s clothes as her hand’s found scaly hips, pulling them closer.

The siren pull back and began to sing. Elspeth could feel the song penetrate into her. It filled her deeply with passion and longing, a kind she had never felt before. Siren songs were always grounded in their own feelings. This was how Cariote felt, and yet, Elspeth could feel the emotion swell within her, a sensation she could not feel otherwise.

The world began to blur as slowly Elspeth was lowered into the waves. She could feel the siren crawl onto her, slowly undoing her belt. The waves crashed over them, Elspeth focused her breathing, avoiding the water that threatened to flow into her lungs. As the waves ebbed, so too did the illusion. The human looking woman, now gone, replaced by rich blue green scales. Her hair, tinged green like seaweed. Her teeth, sharpened to points, rows of them, menacing. And yet the song did not stop, and Elspeth did not fear.

Elspeth felt the waves crash against the bare skin of her legs as her pants flew over her head in a blur. It was as if everything moved in slow motion, her hands buried in the wet sand. Webbed fingers pushed her legs apart, spreading them wide as Cariote’s head dipped between her legs.

The song only built, no longer sang by echoed in the night air. Elspeth could not stop what was building within her even if she wanted to. The way the notes played against her body, the way the fingers plucked at the strings tied to her thighs, the way the siren sang her sweet song against Elspeth’s most private of parts resonated with an increased fury within her. Elspeth would die a thousand times over if this beautiful creature demanded it. She would throw herself from the highest cliff, diving over the edge into the ocean below only to be swallowed up by her. She cried out, tears falling from her eyes into the ocean below as the passion erupted within her exploding outward with the thunder of the crashing waves.

The song still carried through the night air for a long while afterwards. Elspeth became lost in it, her own voice merging with it on more than one occasion. She no longer knew where she ended and Cariote began. She was merely a vessel to hold the song within her, that was her true purpose, to be a home for the siren. She knew that now, the most feared captain on the sea, held captive by a simple song.

Cariote lay next to her as the sun began to crest the horizon, bathing it soft golden glows. The ocean washed over the naked pair, clothes long since discarded onto the dry shore. Elspeth’s fingers twitched and trembled, tangled in the sand and surf. Her body would dare not move, not because she could not, but she dared not disturb the siren. The song had long subsided within her, filling her with emptiness once more, and yet, she fell more full than she had in many years. Soon they would depart for their ship, but until then, Elspeth would revel in this moment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed that. I’ll be following @h_sleepingirl prompt list for the entire month because I really like a couple of the prompts on the list. You should also definitely check out and support them.

You’ll also be able to find all of my writings under the tags on my page. Hope you enjoy and see you tomorrow!

#hypnosis #hypnotism #my writings #siren song #hypnovember #jam out hypnovember