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tabibitto · 7 months

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some more sebastian michealis content pretty please? ur writing was wonderful to read in "always yours", i love the way you described the bond he has with the reader

Twisted Love | Sebastian Michaelis

A/N: Thank you darling, Sebastian is actually my favorite person to write. His personality gives lots of room for creativity, so i hope you like this as well <3

CW: mentions of religion, female reader, fluff, hurt with comfort, angst, dissociation, panic attack (with comfort)

The afterlife is a topic that is constantly in question. The Buddhists will tell you reincarnation, the Christians will tell you heaven and hell. The Atheists will say there is nothing, or shrug and say 'i don't know'

Whatever the case may be. The only thing that was certain to you, was you already knew what was after death.

You had given it name, after all....

Sebastian Michaelis.

He was your life, death and the afterlife. You had bound your soul to whatever he had in that dark, sinister and ridiculously tall body of his.

If it even was a him. Demons were not restricted by something as trivial as genders and sex. He could take on the form of your mother for all he cared and watch as your face contorted into one of horror and concern. He could be your ideal lover on paper come to life. He could be a fictional man you fantasize over. It wouldn't matter to him as long as he got to fuck you and devour you after a certain amount of time, and your contract was finished

"Penny for your thoughts, my lady?" Said a deep and familiar voice that snapped you out of your existential crisis. Which was a much more reoccurring thing since the notion of God, demons, angels and Grim Reapers was apperently a real thing now. One you would encounter and ponder about almost everyday of your life

It amused Sebastian, how a tiny human racked her brain over a thing that was so normal to him, it was as natural and trivial as how humans viewed their reality. However it only concerned him on days where it made you dissociate or even have a panic attack when you began to think it over on top of your mental issues

"Darling?" He uttered the name so sweetly, so deadly. From the depth of his throat into a poisonous whisper in your ear. You shuddered, shivered at the hot water, you realized has been tepid for a while, and the sponge in Sebastian's hand had gone from firm and gentle scrubs to lazy little rubs.

"Yeah?" You whispered, your voice surprising you from how it cracked and sounded so...distant. Even to it's host.

"Y/N." The voice was more stern now. Deeper. You realized you hadn't responded to something he had said. Everything felt...timeless. Empty. So quiet your ears rang and you could see yourself across the room...

How your body swayed from one side to the other. Your nipples hardened by the now cold water. With a looming Shadow behind you... embracing you...trapping you....ripping into you—

"Mistress" Sebastian urged. Holding your face. His gloves and vest off. Leaving him in his white,button up shirt and black slacks. The seal of your binding bright and black on his sickly pale skin.

He leaned in, parting the knees that were hugging your chest so he could kneel between them. Uncaring of how water splashed around them and soiled his clothes. And how the temperature of the water began to warm with his presence

He gently cradled your head. Letting his scent, thick with a cologne you had picked bring you back, ground you. Your eyes were teary, blurry, black

Black beauty he had fallen in love with, strangely enough. Even stranger so, he didn't even know if it was love. He was a demon. Over 500 years old. He was around to bring the black death to all of Europe. He hadn't known, and still didn't if he had ever been human.

If Sebastian Michaelis, the butler of the Victorian era was ever human. He had never pondered it. Never cared. Why would he? He was a creature that could not die to anything of the world he helped shift, make and destroy, depending on what master he served

Sebastian never pondered the before, not..before you

Before you he would rip into any cheap soul he came into contact with to satiate his hunger. Before you, he had begun to starve himself, looking, searching for a specimen good enough for his tastes.

He still recalls how you cried out for him. For anyone to save you from your prison. How weak, delicate and fragile you were. So bony and teary eyed when his shadow appeared, ripped into every human who hadn't been you. Who hurt you

Perhaps even then he had already developed an obsession for you. A twisted devotion for you before he was even yours. Before you even called out for him, had you already been meant to belong to him amd solely his.

Just how you pondered the meaning and existence and purpose of humanity, he pondered you.

On nights like this when he held you in his arms, in the middle of a cold bathtub, dimly lit by a candle or two when you had your episodes. How you so desperately clung onto him. In your mind he didn't actually care. He had made it very clear the first couple times you tried to even utter any feelings for him, that he, a demon, was incapable and uninterested in feelings. Especially for someone of a life form so lowly as yours.

It was a necessary cruelty. Because even now he didn't know if he was feeling love for you, or a twisted, sickening obsession with you. All of you. There were days he wanted to kiss you sweetly, just as he was doing now. And days he wanted to rip into your chest, crawl into your skin and devour your soul.

He wouldn't call that love. Who would?

But if he had to call it love so he could feel your gaze soften, how your soul's taste would sweeten so much he could feel a burn in his throat without even tasting it. To see your teary eyes close and your soft face gently nuzzle into his chest in affection you tried so pathetically hard to convince yourself he could feel.

It was hard, really. To abide by the contract. When you would be so gentle with him of all people. Something would crawl into his chest where a heart would be and it would itch him to rip into himself and tear it out.

Whether he had been human once or not mattered not anymore. He told himself. But on days like this where he had wiped your tears, dressed you gently and tucked you beside him in your chambers, under your order for cuddles. He pondered if he was human, what could he have given you

Would he have been strong like he was now? Could he have the strength to protect you? Could he have bedded you as you liked? Gave you a child even, if it was what you wished? What would a child look like, one that carried his blood in their veins and your sweet face

Would he be able to care for you how he did now? How he pampered you and didn't let you lift a finger?

Would he have been a provider? Not let you work so you could stay at home, pretty and perfect for him to make love to when he came home tired,sweaty and longing to be in your arms

Sebastian pondered these feelings. Exhaustion, joy, pleasure, anger. Things that did not control him, that did not exist in him. In all his years of existence he never spared them a thought

But when he held you he felt them all.

A peculiar curiosity as to the what ifs of a human being. How they had so little time and spent most of it wasting away at a school or a job. How many never felt or experienced true love. How many never had someone to hold or be held. Never felt the joy of a son or a daughter or a loving parent

Did you feel these things? Before your parents died in that fire? Before you lost everything you had ever had and was taken as property for sick and twisted old men to do with you as they wanted? Did you ever want to be a mother? Live to die old?

.... Sebastian glared at your sweet little face. Puffy and pink from tears. Your lips swollen from his kisses. How your hands clung to his bare chest. Legs wrapped around his thigh. Your cold nose burrowed into his neck that sent shivers down his spine.

He didn't notice when he eyes began to water and harden. Glowing red under the moonlight through your window. When the warmth between you two became burning hot and his fangs dug into his lips

He listened as you occasionally whimpered when your dreams tried to darken into nightmares and he would hold you tighter, feel you soften under his arms.

Sebastian felt something warm and wet on his face. It wasn't your tears...no...no you had stopped crying hours ago and the sun was up...

It was up?

Sebastian shot up in bed. Breathing hard.

He couldn't breathe.

He glared at his palm. Wide eyed

It was dripping wet.

"Im... crying?"

#sebastian x reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #kuroshitsuji sebastian #kuroshitpost #kuroshitsuji angst #black butler angst #sebastian michaelis #black butler fanfic #black butler smut #black butler #sebastian michaelis angst #sebastian michaelis fluff #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian michaelis comfort #black butler ciel #black butler sebastian #black butler season 4

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mysicklove · 7 months

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𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

DAY 4: SENSORY DEPRIVATION

With: Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Sub! Kyojuro, gn! reader, blindfold/gag/earmuffs, feather usage, ice usage, nonverbal safe word discussed (not used), implied wax play, crying, begging/pleading, reader is a liar.

A/N: Everytime i wrote about his happy trail i thought of ashi. LOL. also this fic is a mess im going to be honest. not my best work, my friends.

Rengoku doesn't understand why he was put in this position. He doesn't understand why he has a blindfold on with his arms tied together behind him, and his legs strapped to the bottom of the chair. He doesn't understand why he has a small black gag in his mouth and pink fluffy earmuffs.

The thing was, Kyojuro struggles with restraints. He just can't seem to sit still when he receives pleasure. He wants desperately to obey your commands, but your touch always sends him spiralling, and his body always jerks and twitches without meaning to. He has accidentally knocked your hand away so many times when you overstimulate him, or forced your hand back onto his cock when you edge him. It was just a force of habit, and he always apologizes profusely when he does so. Its not like he means to disobey you.

So, tying him up was the next best option. Plus, depriving him of his senses was just because you were feeling cruel, and you wanted to see how strongly he was bound to react with your touch.

So here he was, completely at your mercy, shivering slightly from what you could guess fear or guilt. He has never done anything to make him deserve a “punishment”, but you were mean. He just looked so pretty when his face was contorted in fear, you couldnt help yourself.

Rengokus blindfold was already dampening with tears as he continues to tremble under your view. His whole world is dark, and everything is silent. The lack of his senses was a strange feeling, and it overwhelmed him. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry. Im sorry," He pleads into the gag, the words coming out so muffled you can barely make out the apologies.

You grab his chin, and press a kiss to his temple, his cheek, and his neck. Immediately he seems to calm down, and you take this time to remove just one of his earmuffs. “Did nothing wrong, Kyo. There is no need to cry.”

He jumps at the sudden sound, and turns to where your voice was coming from. He sniffles, but nods, leaning his head forward to hopefully coax out more affection from you. You smile at him and move to rest your palm on his cheek. He nuzzles it immediately, thankful for any touch. The darkness and the silence made him feel alone, and he was grateful to have some sort of reassurance.

Your hands graze at his thighs, and he flinches at the feeling, breathing into the muzzle. “Not going anywhere, relax pretty. I'm here,” You coo, using your other hand to run through his hair. He seems to finally begin to melt, his arms no longer struggling against the restraints, and his body refrained from shivering. “Gonna make you feel good, yeah?”

He doesn't even try to speak, the gag wouldnt allow him to anyways. But he nods his head obediently, trying not to move too much from excitement. You kiss his cheek again, hardly containing yourself from how cute he is. Then, you reach back and place a small bell into his hands. He slightly cocks his head to the side, no doubt furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “If you want to stop, ring that. Can you do that for me?”

He nods determinedly, and then rings it to test it out. Immediately, like a puppy, he turns to you, expectantly awaiting his reward for listening. You indulge him, giggling slightly and kissing the space right below his ears, one of his erogenous zones. He groans into the gag, accidentally pulling at the restraints once again. “Good boy!” You praise, and it sends his head spinning. “Now, ring that whenever you feel uncomfortable and I will stop, alright?” He nods his head. “Good. I'm not going to hurt you tonight Kyo, so you can relax.”

You fingers continue to drag along the area inches from his now hard dick, eyeing it contently. It sticks up proud, and seems to be begging to be touched. You smile and turn back to him, watching the way his chest raises from his breath in steady motions. “I'm going to put your earmuffs back on, so it's going to be a little quiet. It'll just make all the touches more pleasurable, I promise.”

He nods his head, and lets out a gargled, “love you,” through the gag, to which you smile, and murmur your own words of endearment. Then, you cover his ear with the earmuffs, and sigh.

Like a predator stalking their prey, you circle the chair for a second, overwhelmed at the possibilities of what to do to him first. Your fingers drag over his neck and then trace down his arm. He shivers with every movement, feeling goosebumps rise with every graze of your finger. Its overwhelmingly sensitive, and he swears he can almost feel your breath on his skin. His sense of touch was heightened with the lack of the others.

Your mouth latches onto his neck, slightly nibbling at the sensitive skin. He pants into the gag, and slightly bares his neck to give you more room. You pull away for a moment, and blow on his neck, sending his whole body into a fit of shivers. You cant help but giggle at the action, and place your hand on his thigh in mock comfort.

Your head was growing foggy from the meer power you felt over him. He was completely at your mercy, and other than viciously fight at the restrains, he could do nothing. Of course you loved him, and would never dare to do something he didn't like, but you couldn't help but tease him just a little. You may have lied about the “only” pleasure aspect of it.

You sit yourself on his lap, startling him. Baring no mind to his reaction, you lean up and kiss his chin in reassurance, before turning to your right and grabbing the object you have been dying to use.

A dainty white feather. Something so soft and fragile, that is going to send your lover into a spiral. The thought made your mouth water, and Kyojuro, almost sensing your thoughts, visibly gulps.

You first run your own fingers over his chest, grazing over his nipples. He remains motionless, but you can see him tense. His chest was a very sensitive part of his body, and he was afraid of what was to come next. Rightfully so.

You pull away, and glance downward toward his abdomen. With a wicked grin, you take a hold onto the feather and graze his lower stomach, just where his happy trail begins. Its a light touch, and you barely even skim the surface of his skin, but the reaction is immediate. Another full body shiver, seemingly from the ticklish feeling this time.

You hum, pleased with the reaction, and continue your antics upward. His pants grow louder into the gag with the passing seconds. Finally, the feather drags along his chest. The spot you have been most curious to see.

The feather glides over his nipple and he lets out a garbled whine. The buds harden in an instant and he nervously shakes his head. You ignore it and continue your movements, circling his chest.

Rengoku twitches under your hold and pulls against the restraints. He is so unbelievably sensitive there, and with the addition to the blind fold and earmuffs, he swears the feather is borderline overstimulating him. He can feel every bristle of it, and the cool air it pushes towards him when you slightly flap it. It sends him into a frenzy. It's too much, but too little. He wants more of the stimulation, but he also wants to pull away. He wants you to be rougher with him, but the idea of that makes him nervous.

He doesn't know what he wants, and just like usual, he begins to tug at the restrains, body uncontrollably twitching. His chest tries to cave inward from the ticklish feeling, but he doesn't go far considering the restraints. He just continues to shake his head back and forth, high pitched yelps and complaints barely making it through the gag.

“Aw baby, are you sensitive there?” You tease mostly to yourself, knowing he can't hear you all things considering. His squirms make you giggle, and you take vague notice to the bright hair that shakes from side to side from his sporadic movements.

It tickles so much. It tickles and it feels good, and it hurts, and it is too soft, and he is losing his mind. The feeling of being bound, forced to take everything you give him only seems to make the feather more tortuous.

He feels it begin to move downward, and Kyojuro heaves, trying to catch his breath after holding it for so long. His mouth clentches around the gag, and he tries to calm down his body.

But of course, he can feel the feather move downward and oh. Oh no. He couldn't handle it down there. It was too sensitive.

He whips his head back and forth and whines into the gag. It comes out as a broken plea, and he can't hear your response, but he hopes you may take his noises to heart. He didn't get his hopes up.

The feather brushes around the tip, and Kyojuro yelps, jerking so much that the chair beneath him lifts up just slightly. You send a warning slap to his thigh, and he cries out, the tears beginning to flow again. It hurt more now that he couldnt see it. He apologizes through the gag, but it doesn't do much, other than make him drool all over himself.

You trace it up and down his cock, and he begins to tremble again. His dick is twitching with every stroke, and honestly it enamored you how reactive it was being. Cute.

One of your hands move back up his chest, thumbing at the nub, while the other continues its slow, light movements of the feather. Bringing it from the head, all the way down to his balls, giggling when your hear his cries.

“Not pweasure! Not pweasure!” He sobs, his thighs trembling. It tickled so much he couldn't stand it and with the addition of your fingers pinching his nipples, he was crumbling. You lied to him. He was supposed to feel good. Not to be teased to till he cant breathe anymore. You are so cruel.

Of course he couldnt say anything, nor use pleading eyes to beg for you to stop. But his body jerking back and forth, trying desperately to get anyway from your hands and the horrible, horrible feather definitely convey his emotions.

You grab one more item to end up the scene, finally setting down the feather. To continue on with little warning on what you had stored for him was cruel, even for you. But, of course you will have fun watching his reaction to this.

You place the small item in the palm of your hand, and gently bring it over to his cock. Then with a sadistic grin, you drag it down the shaft.

The first thing Kyojuro feels after the removal of the feather was cold. So unbearably cold, and right on his dick.

Ice. It had to be.

The chair comes lifting off the ground again from his quick movements to get away. He's screaming into the gag, and shaking his head profusely, begging for you to take it away. It was so cold, and he was so sensitive. His hands pull at the restraints and his body tries, and fails to crumble inward himself.

The blindfold slips off one of his eyes and he finally gets a view of you. His eyes are glassy, and flooded with tears, and his eyebrows are adorably furrowed in a plea. He makes a noise when you pull the ice away slightly, and you look up at him.

“Aw Kyo, you want to see that badly?” You coo, and he can barely read your lips from the tears. He shakes his head and sobs, head hanging low. You bring the ice cube to his chest and he whines, eyes screwing shut automatically as his nipples harden. The cool water stains his chest, and he is shivering under it.

His hips and back drive into the chair, to try to create some distance from the horrible coldness. It doesn't work, and his one eye watches the way the ice cube coats the dark patch of hair on his lower abdomen, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. It was making his way back to his groin, and all Kyojuro can do is cry, and hope you be easy on him. He can't stand the cold. He was made for heat.

One hand grabs onto his cock, steading the trembling thing, and the other holds onto the cube. “Well, if you want to watch so badly, might as well give you a show,” You whisper, and Kyojuro cant read your lips this time. So, he stares at you with mild confusion and fear as to what you are going to do next.

With one last malicious glance, you place the ice cube on top of the tip, and swirl it around his hole. He screams again, back arching, and staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. You don't let up even when his legs try again and again to shut, but ultimately fail.

He can feel the cool liquid drip into his slit, and he feels as if he cannot breathe. It was one of the strongest sensations he has ever felt before, and his fingers dig into his palm to help steady himself. It was so cold. Unbelievably cold, and the water was dripping inside him, in a place where it should not be.

Kyojuro didnt know what to do other than take it. The silence of it all was driving him even more mad, and he wonders if having him see this was worst than being blindfolded.

Your circular motions dont let up, and eventually it's the ice that begins to melt, considering how hot the hashira runs. You rub it over his now slightly shrinking dick, and his whole body is shivering. But, his whines and cries have finally gone down, instead just loud pants to try and catch his breath. He must be growing used to it.

This was a good stopping point. You run the remainder of the cube over the throbbing tip again, and he whimpers slightly, but it doesn't compare to what the noises he made before. You kiss his thighs, and drop the sliver of ice back into the metal bin, whipping your hands on your shirt.

He did well. It was impressive really. How good he did. But, you didnt expect anything else from your lover.

You smile to yourself, and then reach up to remove the earmuffs and blindfold. But strangely enough, Kyojuros one free eye wasn't looking at you. His whole neck was staring to the right while his chests rise and fall with heavy breaths, as if he was entranced by something. Drool coats his mouth, but he doesn't seem to notice, so enthralled at what he is staring at.

You follow his gaze, eyes widening when you see it.

You watch as the candle you lit earlier to set the mood, drips with wax. It falls onto the candle stand, and Kyojuro stares with hearts in his eyes as if mesmerized by the wax.

You let out a shaky breath, turning to him on last time, reading his mind. He glances at you and nods every so slightly, with a small huffs. You grin at him, readjusting his blindfold and grabbing the candle. You watch Rengokus adams' apple bob as he gulps in both fear and excitement.

He was shivering so much, it was like he was in dire need to warm up. And you had just the solution for him, and instantaneous way to heat up his skin again.. A drop of wax drips onto Kyojuros thigh, and the man does his best to not scream at the burning sensation.

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#mello.writes #Barkforme!#Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #gn reader #x reader #reader insert #kyojuro smut #kyojuro x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader smut #kny smut #kny x reader #kny kyojuro

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thebiscuitlabryinth · 1 month

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[prev]

For some reason, Pure Vanilla's dreams always take place in memories. The situations may be different, and the details may be blurred and absurd, built from a collection of fragmented moments spanning his life, but the locations themselves are always familiar.

That's why it is significant, glaringly so, when he finds himself somewhere he doesn't recognise.

It isn't a small room, but it feels smaller because it is hedged in by the dark shapes of bookshelves and chests. A large desk is nestled to the left, and a window sits ahead, clearly large but covered by a thick curtain. It leaves the room swarmed with shadows that seem to watch and breathe, hardly fended off by the feeble efforts of the desk's waning candelabra.

It makes viewing the room difficult. If he had his staff with him, Pure Vanilla would have cast some light, but he hasn't had it in his dreams for a while now, so he makes do with the meagre light he has. It is enough to realise that the room is a mess, the desk chair tipped over with books, scrolls, papers and quills, many of them looking like they were snapped, strewn about haphazardly. There's an inkwell on its side on the floor, spilling the abyss everywhere and soaking into the floorboards and loose paper.

The new location makes hope spark within Pure Vanilla, but it is dampened slightly by the uneasiness born from the visible disarry. "Where..?"

"This is my old study." As expected, Shadow Milk's voice swirls around the room to greet him, and a moment later, he emerges from the nothingness of the pitch-black corner, the edges of his silhouette blending into the darkness.

He doesn't look surprised or irritated at the sight of this time capsule of a room. No, his face is blank, verging on bored, as it often is when relics of his distant past crop up. It is a welcome sight, if only because Shadow Milk has a tendency of being more seriously receptive to questions when he wears that expression.

"What happened to it?" Pure Vanilla asks quietly, his voice bouncing back loud in his ears anyway. He doesn't move from where he is standing, a little wary of disrupting the mess on the floor before him.

Shadow Milk doesn't have the same hesitation, walking all over the littered documents with his arms folded leisurely behind his back. He peers down at them with a lazy gaze, but his voice and smile is light when he responds. "Oh, nothing interesting! I was just terrible at organisation, I'm sure you've noticed."

Well, being more receptive to questions doesn't mean he answers them honestly or in any kind of straightforward manner. The fact that Pure Vanilla is here already feels like enormous progress, because whether Shadow Milk made a conscious decision to meet here or not, his relative calm now must mean that he is willing for Pure Vanilla to see this, even if he isn't willing to explain its history.

Besides, Pure Vanilla isn't entirely oblivious. He has seen scenes like this before, and he can connect the dots himself.

Shadow Milk steps into the ink puddle and drags the abyssal liquid across the crumpled papers – a clearly intentional move, because he isn't bound by gravity unless he chooses to be – as he continues to scan the mess without a care in the world. He pauses at the edge of the candlelight's reach, squinting as he bends at the waist to get a closer look at a stack of bound papers.

Then, he lights up, dropping down to sit on the floor as he picks the papers up with both hands. He sits on the line between the fading candlelight and the hungry shadows, sinking back into the darkness like it is natural, but his eyes are all bright and his smile feels more genuine.

"One of my playscripts!" Shadow Milk announces, almost sounding giddy as he flicks through the pages with an air of fondness he doesn't quite manage to hide. Then, as if he can't help himself, he puffs his chest out a little and starts proudly explaining, some of his extra eyes flicking over to glance at Pure Vanilla. "I had dozens of these lying around. I never had the time to stage any of them myself, but they were extremely popular back then. That's to be expected, since I was the best wordsmith to grace Earthbread. Still am, to this day!"

In the dim, still moment that follows, stretching long and precious, Pure Vanilla doesn't see the Beast of Deceit before him. He doesn't even see the brilliant scholar, the Virtue of Knowledge, not quite.

What he sees is a Cookie, whole and complex and alive and beautiful, and his heart pangs, softly.

Pure Vanilla feels drawn to him, to the glimpse of something real and present, the current evolution of the past that lays abandoned around them, the past he has grown fond of in stolen glances, and suddenly he is moving. He carefully picks his way across the room, which isn't easy with the mess and the dark, but he manages, tiptoeing around ink and paper.

"It's their loss, to not have my genius plays anymore." Shadow Milk sighs dramatically as he begins to leaf through the script more carefully, silently reading it line by line. An edge of bitterness peeks through his tone. "Nobody knows how to appreciate good artistry these days. What more can you expect from little mindless fools?"

When Pure Vanilla sinks into a kneel beside him, Shadow Milk's extra eyes all gravitate towards him inquisitively, even as his main pair continue to soak in the script. The pressure of them drapes over Pure Vanilla like a cloak as he clasps his hands together in his lap, taking a moment to mull over his own words.

"...Perhaps you should try having a more open mind." He says finally, not unkindly. Shadow Milk stops, still as a statue, before turning to face him with a concerning crack of his neck that, despite knowing his habits by now, still makes Pure Vanilla wince.

"Huh?" The sound is flat and loud, too loud for the shrinking boundary of the study, and it is obvious he is offended.

"I've been thinking about you a lot recently, and your situation." Pure Vanilla admits, something placating lacing into his voice as his attention lingers on that beloved playscript to avoid meeting Shadow Milk's sharp eyes. "Have you ever considered the possibility of your imprisonment ending amicably?"

"Huh?" Shadow Milk repeats, his voice more abrasive as his patience dwindles. He heard him perfectly fine, Pure Vanilla is sure, but he must want an elaboration.

"You seem to think the only chance for your freedom is to escape by force." Pure Vanilla explains, glancing up to take in Shadow Milk's face, his brows furrowed and mouth an unreadable line. "But I'm sure a compromise can be made to some degree. The things you have done are too severe to be settled by an apology alone, but- but if we can agree upon a system of redemption and rehabilitation, then–"

Shadow Milk cuts him off with a wild bout of laughter that rips through the study like a clap of thunder, hunching into himself as he unceremoniously drops the script. He tries to cover his too large grin with a hand, his many eyes pinning Pure Vanilla in place with the frantic look crystallised within them.

"You're joking!" Shadow Milk forces out through his stubbornly smiling teeth, voice gravelly and rattling with traces of laughter just short of hysteria. "Do you even hear yourself? No, no, you must be joking!"

"Not at all. I wouldn't joke about something like this." Pure Vanilla insists, seriousness plain on his face as he shifts to face him fully, a little concerned by the reaction. "Good punishments are meant to teach a lesson. As long as you are willing to learn from it, I don't see why your imprisonment couldn't be renegotiated."

The laughter gives way to a cold silence, and Shadow Milk's eyes narrow as he grits his teeth in a half-scowl, hand still obscuring half his face. "You're serious." He says slowly, words dripping with disdain. Then he huffs, shaking his head as his voice takes on a more playful tone. "Don't be silly, I've told you not to overthink things so much. Besides, the Witches," and here, his attempt at playfulness falters under a charged growl, "would never entertain something like that. Cowards, all of them!"

Maybe Pure Vanilla is reading into things, overthinking just like Shadow Milk accuses him of doing, but he can't help hearing a note of hurt in his voice. The fact he brought up the Witches so quickly speaks volumes by itself, and sorrow and pity bubble together in Pure Vanilla at the thought of what Shadow Milk must view as the greatest betrayal.

"...I don't think they'll mind." Pure Vanilla says after a moment of consideration, folding his hands in his lap. "The Witches rarely interfere with the lives of Cookiekind – at least, not since I was baked. Even when you broke the Seal and escaped briefly, they showed no signs of interference."

"Cowards." Shadow Milk mutters again with a tight, sardonic smile. "Afraid of reaping what they've sowed. Of course they don't dare to show their faces anymore!"

Pure Vanilla frowns slightly, but chooses not to comment, glossing past that to deliver his point. "That means the terms of your continued imprisonment solely relies on the Faeries and White Lily, now."

"Yes, yes, yes, do you think I don't know that?" Shadow Milk huffs again, waving an impatient hand as he leans back against thin air. "And? Are you going to, what, appeal our case to our great and wise Guardian?"

"Well, yes, that is the idea." Shadow Milk blinks owlishly at him as if that was a surprise, and Pure Vanilla adds sheepishly. "Not immediately, of course. There are more pressing matters at the moment, and I don't want to add more stress to her shoulders." Then, quietly, more to himself. "...She's going through enough as it is."

The look Shadow Milk gives him is complicated, far too complicated to parse in the sparse lighting. When he speaks, it is weighted with disdain and disbelief. "That's actually your plan?"

"If you're willing to consider it seriously." Pure Vanilla's reply is sterner to express his own determination, a little frustrated by the lack of cooperation, but when Shadow Milk remains visibly suspicious, he softens again and sighs.

Of course he's supicious. Nobody has tried to lend him a helping hand since his fall from grace. To be forsaken like that would make anyone somewhat jaded.

"...Remember what you told me? We are the same." Pure Vanilla begins patiently, keeping his voice calm and soothing as he shifts a little closer to him. "We just fall on opposite ends of the same spectrum. I could fall to darkness, but it is just as likely that you could return to the light."

"Yes, and didn't I tell you that was a stupid thing to say?" Shadow Milk muses mockingly, head lolling too far to one side for his neck to still be intact. And yet, he was playing along, the whole of his attention resting on Pure Vanilla with a sense of intruige. That was enough to encourage him.

"You did, but you also told me that people change, didn't you?" Pure Vanilla continues steadily, not hindered by Shadow Milk's lazy rebuttal. "I understand you meant that Cookies can change for the worse, but quantifiers always exist in pairs, so the opposite is also true. Cookies – you can change for the better."

The flickering candlelight makes the colour of Shadow Milk's face murky, accentuating his flat expression as he straightens his head back on his shoulders with a dull crunch. His eyes burn like shooting stars as he says slowly, overpronouncing each syllable, "Possibilties are never guaranteed."

"Guarantees leave no room for possibilities. Similarly, an endless imprisonment leaves no room for change and growth." Pure Vanilla argues back mildly, and in an attempt to connect with him, he finds himself reaching out for Shadow Milk's hand. He clasps it gently between both of his, pulling it closer to his own chest as Shadow Milk's expression momentarily shutters in surprise.

"You've been abandoned for a long time, and I'm sorry about that." Pure Vanilla murmurs, head leaning closer to make sure Shadow Milk can hear him as he warms his cold, dissolving hand between his palms. "You have done awful things, and you needed to be stopped, but it is cruel of them to bury you alive without any chance to redeem yourself, to condemn you to stagnation."

Shadow Milk doesn't interrupt. His eyes rest squarely on their joint hands, and he makes no attempt to pull away, despite his intial surprise. His expression betrays nothing.

"I know you reject the idea on grounds of impossibility, but I truly believe you can change for the better." Pure Vanilla smiles down at their hands, voice warm and earnest, and it is the truth. He looks up, making sure to meet Shadow Milk's bright, bright eyes to convey his sincerity. "I believe in you. More than that, I care about you."

The word comes out a little shy, but not hesitant. He is making a point – trying to show that even if Shadow Milk may feel like he has been abandoned to rot, that doesn't have to be the truth.

Shadow Milk breaks his stony silence with a click of his tongue.

"You care too much about too many things." He retorts, a taunting lilt filtering into his voice as the corners of his mouth curl upwards. "That doesn't mean much. It just makes you a fool with a bleeding heart."

"And that doesn't make any of what I say less true." Pure Vanilla replies easily, projecting confidence. He refuses to let Shadow Milk scare him off now. "I really do care about you."

He hesitates for a tense second before moving one hand to cup Shadow Milk's cheek, to show him in actions. Shadow Milk stiffens under the touch, but relaxes in the next blink, baring too many teeth in a lopsided grin that dances along Pure Vanilla's palm, still vaguely mocking.

"Really?" Shadow Milk drags the syllables out, pressing his face into Pure Vanilla's hand as his narrowed eyes never waver from him. The darkness creeps over his shoulders, the protection of the old candelabra gradually shrinking. "Why, I didn't think you could be such a flirt!"

"I mean it, wholeheartedly. You can always tell when I lie, you must know this is the truth." Pure Vanilla insists and insists, because it is all he can do, a strange desperation starting to form, now that he can imagine a peaceful solution so clearly. He grips Shadow Milk's hand tighter, but the hand on his face remains carefully gentle. "All I want to do is help you, if you'll let me."

It is important that it is a choice Shadow Milk makes, and not something forced upon him. It won't work if it is forced. Still, as Shadow Milk's eyes grow lidded, Pure Vanilla suddenly can't bear to watch anymore.

"So please," he whispers as he closes his eyes, body leaning forward with the weight of his urgency, "can I...?"

There is a beat where there is stillness, and then Shadow Milk lets out a soft laugh, barely more than a breath. Pure Vanilla feels him move forward, fingers brushing his dough as his hand falls away from his face, and then– then–

Then their lips meet, and his mind goes blank.

The kiss isn't gentle. It isn't harsh or aggressive either. It just is, and just as quickly, it isn't again.

Pure Vanilla's dough is burning when Shadow Milk pulls back, his chest warm like the bowels of the oven, his stomach swooping in pleasant and sickening loops. Overwhelmed as he is, it is horribly difficult to open his eyes, but he is compelled with a need to see his face.

Unfortunately, even when he manages to force his eyes open slightly, there isn't much to see. The candelabra is quickly going out, its retreat inviting in a darkness that Pure Vanilla cannot see anything in, let alone the details of a face. The only proof that Shadow Milk is still there at all is the feeling of his hand in his, and the familiar presence of his gaze.

"You can try," Shadow Milk answers from the darkness, a teasing smirk audible in his words, "if you really think you can convince the Guardian of something as elusive as mercy."

Pure Vanilla nods quietly, certain that Shadow Milk can still see him even if the opposite isn't true, his tongue unable to find words quick enough to answer verbally.

When he wakes up, far later than he usually does and well behind schedule, his face is still glowing with leftover heat. He presses his cheeks into the cool surface of his pillow, and feels something in him settle, satisfied.

I can save him.

[next]

#i wrote a majority of this in a mad burst of inspiration. bone apple teeth!#also there is one part left in this series after this. take that as you will :)#shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #pureshadow #echo paradox au #the biscuit library

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autistichalsin · 4 months

Text

I know a lot of people find it boring how much Halsin talks about nature, and I do get it- it is repetitive. However, I also find that if you break some of his statements down into what he's implying, you end up with something a lot more interesting. (ESPECIALLY because a lot of these support the "Halsin is autistic" interpretation.)

Take, for example, Halsin talking about his place in the world, specifically relating to relationships:

Halsin: I still have hot blood in my veins. Nature gifted us our desires, and the means to act on them. But we muddied its beautiful simplicity with rules, social strictures... clothes. So, I am not bound to nature. I am unbound in nature.

Halsin: Relationship? Such terms belong to civilisation - a little unfamiliar to my lips. You know what we share is more fluid, more founded in the principles of nature.

Implications: Halsin finds society too complicated. He enjoys nature because its rules are simpler and more sensical; rather than social rules and structures that are beyond him (especially when you take into account the autistic Halsin interpretation), he feels comforted by nature, which is complex in a way that he understands.

There's also Halsin's friendship with Thaniel.

Halsin: I had a friend when I was young, long ago. He played with me in the forests where I grew up... but eventually, I realised no one else had heard of him. It was Thaniel, of course. Nature was my very first friend. I get older, but he hasn't changed a day. I knew then that I had to be more than a companion to him. I had to be a protector.

Implications: Nature, by being Halsin's first friend, has always been what Halsin is comforted by. It has been a steady and comforting presence for him, something he can rely in, in contrast to other people who are unpredictable. Nature is consistent and comforting for him.

Halsin, infamously, is not happy in the city of Baldur's Gate.

Halsin: Too much noise, too many lanterns kept burning... nature's rhythm is ignored here.

Implications: Halsin is overstimulated easily by excessive noise and other sensory inputs. Nature provides him somewhere quiet.

Halsin: I wish... I wish there was a better way. I wish everyone could see the sun, have a full belly, and know nature as a friend. There is a balance that is yet to be found.

Implications: Again, Halsin sees nature- not just Thaniel, but all of nature- as a friend. A source of comfort and companionship.

Halsin: I think on [politics and high art] also. But nothing matches the splendour of an ancient tree.

Implications: Halsin loves the beauty of the natural world as much as anything else. Rather than art or music (which he can appreciate), what he prefers is something that grew rather than being made.

Halsin: I am... less anxious to find myself in a city. So removed from nature's power - I do not know how I will fare.

Implications: Not only does Halsin prefer not to be in the city, but he is actually, to some extent, frightened of it (likely due to how overstimulating it is for him), in contrast with his feeling of being right at home in nature.

There's other things to note as well. If a Dark Urge player embraces Bhaal and then tells Halsin to bow, Halsin has this to say:

Halsin: Nature bows to none. It will fight on and survive, no matter what madness your god has inspired you to undertake.

Implications: Halsin views nature as strength, and admires that very much. He draws a lot of his tougher qualities from this aspect of the natural world.

Or a line where Wyll gently points out that he talks about nature a lot:

Halsin: When you care about something deeply enough, it consumes every thought and word.

Implications: Halsin isn't thinking of little else besides nature because he's "boring"; it's because it's important to him. (A special interest, one might say.) And when something is deeply important to a person, they think of everything else in relation to that thing; think of a sports fan who constantly uses sports metaphors to understand the world around them.

There's another party banter with Wyll that is telling when combined with what he has to say about the city, too.

Halsin: It is most unfair to pour such scorn on rats - they have their place in nature, same as you or I.

Halsin: I thought cities were supposed to welcome folk of all walks of life. Clearly I was mistaken.

Implications: Halsin feels everyone has a place in the natural world, yet that the city shuns those it deems different. As someone who has struggled greatly with fitting in/finding a place he "belongs", Halsin feels more sympathetic to nature, where all living things belong, than anywhere else.

I think that when you break up Halsin's love of nature into all the little things it implies, it paints a much more interesting picture of him, personally. It also supports the "Halsin is autistic" interpretation, which makes him even MORE interesting.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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youthnighttarot · 1 year

Text

Baddie Check (Good qualities about you)🫦💋💄💅🏾

Tarot Reading

Pile 1

Pile 2 Pile 3

🔮 Welcome to my tumblr!! I’m 🔮youthnighttarot🤗

Things to know

💜This is for entertainment purposes only and, not to be taken seriously

💜Take what resonates leave the rest

💜All feedback is welcomed as longs as it’s respectful

✨Take a breath before you choose your pile

Pile 1

Tarot cards pulled: 10oS, 8oP (rv), 10oW

Oracle cards: Edward VIII (story may resonate with you watch a documentary) Lover card

First things first when I was shuffling I was supposed to say clear the energy ended up saying clear the check. So maybe you be clearing this check pile 1 because you a baddie that’s about their money!! Ok I’m not sure if you know this yet but you are a sex fiend….not like in the addiction sense just the energy that you give off. It’s like that girl/boy could rock my world. You’re also really goofy like you be playin LMFAOAOAOA frfr.

You may have been betrayed in the past or backstabbed by someone who you worked with. They weren’t putting in any work and, you had to constantly take the brunt/bulk of the work. This could have overwhelmed you and even strained your creativity but you came out on top. With the 10oS this woman has knives all in her back but she’s focused on her phone. You may not be as nonchalant but, you don’t give basic bottom barrel hoes energy and time they don’t deserve.

You’ve been through dark times and felt overwhelmed by creative project or just in general. You may have lacked motivation within your career or in regards to money/stability. People see this and view you as resilient and strong. You are that girl/guy because you never let this betrayal or malicious gossip make you skip a beat. You can carry a lot but that doesn’t mean that you should have to, though this is part of your hood qualities. It can easily become a bad habit if you let it get out of hand. You may have an online social media business and you are thriving but need time to rest. This is also what makes you a baddie you will work your ass off and rest just as hard. (Yesssss pile 1 can you help me out with that)

Extra

💅🏾A king is nothing without the woman he loves

💅🏾Make your own kingdom and choose your own family….I feel you go by this mantra 🕉️

💅🏾Your very luxurious

💅🏾You’re a good lover because you don’t rely on lies or rose colored glasses, trying to be the next Edward and Bella like it’s a movie. You take it seriously and are logical/reall about what a relationship entails

Pile 2

Tarot cards pulled: 7oC (rv), Judgement, the hanged man (rv)

Oracle cards: Gala Dalí, one eye open one eye closed

One of your good qualities great I should even say, is that everything good that comes in your life comes in 2s, 3s, or 4s. You have a lot of abundance surrounding yourself. Something regarding the eye of Horus is significant here. Ok some of the good qualities about you pile 2 is that you have a kind nature but you also know how to cut through bullshit. You are not one of those people floating through life and allowing things to happen to you versus for you.

You are quite a decisive person especially in matters relating to heart and emotions. You may be disconnected from certain religious ideals and people can view you as a hedonist. (Chile🙄) simply because you don’t always comply but little do they know spirit is divinely protecting you. You’re not emotionally unbalanced you feel how you feel no matter how hard someone tries to sway you.

You may not be spiritually bound to any particular religion and this scares people.

You could be a witch/high priestess for some of you. You’re just you and you don’t try to be anyone else but you. (Purr 🐈) So people could celebrate you or even look up to you many ones. (Archangel Micheal, Raphael, and Azriel are looking after you have a lot of power on your spirit team) (Yemaya and Oya for some of my Yoruba gyals) (Nana Asee for my Akan gyals shout out) (Aphrodite and Cupid?) (Freya and Odin) You have uncertainties sometimes but you’re emotions never cloud your judgment. You understand what it means to be in tune as you should!! You may have been spiritually inclined always but repressed for others peace of minds.

Extra

💅🏾 It is by being in the shadow that one emits the most light…you truly believe this and this way of thinking has greatly benefited you

💅🏾You used to constantly be looking over your shoulder or you just didn’t trust easily

💅🏾You no longer jump the gun, or assume you know someone’s nature until you see it in its truest form

Pile 3

Tarot cards pulled: 9oW, The Magician (rv), The hermit (rv)

Oracle cards: Marilyn Monroe, Magic is being used (rv)

So you know when to take time out for yourself first of all pile 3. You can sense when someone is trying to manipulate or play the con-game with you. You also know how to get people to do exactly what you want but, you don’t maliciously take advantage of people rather suggest. You take time to yourself in order to pondering your actions or how other people actions led up to your actions. So you may avoid it happening again at all cost. You are a dreamer. Again I’m getting your not afraid to reflect on your wrong doings…you take accountability.

You’re a person who knows when to shut social media off. You have no aspirations to chance fame/notoriety it just happens for you. You’re not caught up in trying to be a baddie you just simply want to be you. That is as all nothing less. Some of you could have some sort of connection to gypsies or Eastern European culture?

You believe in divinity and equality, you dress nicely as well. You know how to stand up for yourself by saying no…you are not afraid of sitting with yourself or your thoughts. You’ve traveled (physically or mentally) long and far in order to get to this point in your life. You have the emotions, the career skills, and the mindset to wether any storm. You are not deceptive but can sense deceptions easily.

Extra

💅🏾Never pick stability over a good time…at first I was like 🤔but what I got is that you don’t just choose something because it will bring you finances or wealth you choose to do something or be with someone because it makes you happy

💅🏾You don’t use spells and magic on people to get them to like you they just do

💅🏾Whatever story that people have in mind for you, you say to hell with and continue to be yourself

Call me beep me if you wanna reach me🔮📱

💟 @youthnighttarot ~ tumblr

Email~ [email protected]

💟 youthnighttarot1111 ~ PATREON EXCLUSIVES

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starlightandfairies · 1 year

Note

Hey! Since requests are open may I request Daryl x reader where they separate after the governor attacks the prison but they reunite in Alexandria, or Daryl finds readers dead body being eaten?? You can choose which one <33

If your comfortable with it I would prefer reader with she/her pronouns, thank you <3

Description: The reader and Daryl are separated after the attack on the prison and are reunited back at Alexandria.

Warnings: fluff, swearing

*I'm so sorry for how long it has taken me. I might also do the other option as well*

Requests are open!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 883

The attack on the prison was brutal and heartbreaking, it had been a home and things had been going wrong for way too long. It was only bound that this was going to happen, groups were formed as they went separate ways in order to get away from the herds and the wreckage. Daryl had been separated with Beth, all the others had someone but Y/N. She was all by herself, it killed her and being alone did nothing good for her. She needs people and needs to have someone with her so she was hoping that she could find someone soon. Better yet, hoped that Daryl was alive and that they find each other again.

Y/N had a system, she walked throughout the day, barely any stops and sipped water all throughout her journey on foot, then would find a new body of water before it was dark and would hide in a car as the night went on. The first moment she saw another form of human life, she hide in the back, her gun firmly in her hand as she watched a man check the back of cars and then leave them. Not wanting to create a problem for herself, she stayed hidden and hoped that the man would look in the back of the car and even if he did that he was nice and would leave her alone.

Her heart jumped in her chest as the man ran into the car she was currently in, she placed a hand over her mouth as he closed the door hiding from a heard of walkers and holding something in his hands which appeared to be a number plate from a state that she couldn't make out. She placed the gun to his head, speaking quietly, not prepared to make any moves as she didn't want to kill anyone.

"Tell me your name, what you're doing and your morals, I'll put the gun down as soon as you tell me this and if I agree with your morals then we can both hide in here before they go. Okay?"

"My name is Aaron, It sounds really silly, I know but I'm collecting state number plates for my boyfriend, it's something that we do. You know, to pass the time and deal with this world. I won't hurt you, you look like you've been through a lot and I can take you to my community you can rest there, have some food and if you don't like it there you can leave." Y/n sat back, apologising to Aaron for holding a gun at him and agreed to go with him.

Y/n sat in a room, staring at the camera nervously as she answered the questions, it brought on emotions she didn't want to deal with. She was terrified of the fact that she did not have Daryl, that she didn't have her friends and begged that they were all okay and that she would see them again soon.

A couple of weeks passed, and Y/n had decided to stay for that time, going on runs in the hopes that she would see someone she knew and turned up empty-handed every time. Y/n had come out of her house after what had been a few days.

Aaron had been stopping by, giving her food, making sure she was still alive and still living amongst the others. The girl sat on the porch, reading a book, feeling happy and proud to touch something new, to read a book that she hadn't touched before and she felt at peace for a short while.

The girl glanced up, searching the area for a moment, freezing as she saw a familiar face. She threw the book to the side, stumbling as she raced over to the group, tripping over air and already had tears in her eyes.

"Daryl!" She shouted, panting as she ran as fast as she could to finish the distance between them both. Daryl stared at her, he couldn't believe that the girl running towards him was alive and she was safe. He dropped his crossbow to the ground, finishing the distance and picking her up in his arms. He whimpered lightly, Y/n cried in his arms and gripped at the iconic leather vest the man always wore.

Daryl slowly dropped to his knees, soaking into the ground with the girl in his arms and placed kisses on her forehead. Sobbing lightly as the girl was finally in his arms again and seemingly unharmed and in a place that seemed to be safe and with decent people.

"I was so scared, I thought you were gone." She whispered, smiling as he tightened his grip and held her off the ground.

"I've got you," Daryl whispered, feeling everything he has been feeling for the last little while come back to him and had a couple of tears well in his eyes as he held the girl in his arms. Daryl did not want to let her go, did not want to let her out of his sight. The girl he loved was alive, with him and he felt safer with her back with him.

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seventh-fantasy · 6 months

Text

li xiangyi, yin, and femininity

we all know that li xiangyi is a character of fractured identities. and li lianhua is an unreliable narrator to his own story. these make him not the most straightforward character to study. but I've believed in treating li lianhua as a part of li xiangyi, rather than separates. and there must be a common thread that ties all of him together. thus, I offer what I have found to be the most useful lens to use to view him as a cohesive whole, regardless as li xiangyi, li lianhua, or any other identity he may reinvent into: his 阴 yin qualities. (yin of yinyang)

this framework suggested by the drama's text itself has helped clarify to me his strengths, weaknesses, motivations, and struggles. by identifying this constant, too, makes it so much easier talking about what has changed in him.

[to the, hopefully growing, boli lhl hivemind @markiafc @ananeiah]

there are some notes on the concept of yinyang and chinese conceptualisation of gender I have to preface with.

[disclaimer: of course, I'm not even trying to cover a tip of what experts have extensively studied and debated in a depth it deserves. all I'm doing is try to parse the broad, fundamental ideas that are needed to explain my blorbos through my own spotty brain filter. so there bound to be nuances I've overlooked or some degree of my own interpretation. pretentious but needs to be done.]

阴 yin and 阳 yang are concepts characterised by passiveness, darkness, gentleness, femininity etc, and proactivity, light, toughness, masculinity etc respectively. a very key and handy concept to have in mind is their relationship to each other - which I'll not attempt at explaining better than literal scholars have:

Yin and yang exist only in relation to one another internally as the way warmth-coldness only exist relative to one another. Furthermore, when using yin-yang as an organizational schema, achieving balancing harmony is always the goal, not domination nor subordination of one to the other. [x]

while yin and yang can be symbols of femininity and masculinity, it doesn't mean all female are yin and all male are yang. it's certainly not a strict 1-to-1 equation. the concept of gender in chinese context is more social than biological. this suggests room for fluidity, and shaping of identities, often through social rituals as one journeys through life. it also means that there can be femininity in the masculine, and vice versa - in fact, that's only healthy because you need a good balance of the two worlds. no one part is better than the other. if you think of the two components as relative to each other, they are always interacting and affecting each other, rather than being strict and inert binaries. simply put, it needs to be kept in mind that there are greater nuances in applying yin and yang to the definitions of gender, and to avoid at all cost a simplification of this framework into a binary.

sure, the show has implied that lxy's powers and energy are yin-coded. but femininity is only one of the multiple attributes of yin. so how are we extending lxy's yin to femininity specifically? it's in the text that substantiates and qualifies lxy as feminine. dead women being used as proxies to his character. being literally dressed as a woman in order to put himself into their shoes and feel what they've felt. adopting a name that happens to be very, very feminine - 莲花 lianhua (lit. lotus flower) (it must be caveated that chinese names are NOT gendered. but there are just some names that are more feminine than others.) him coming to lead a life revolving around traditionally feminine, domestic things as li lianhua. him having interactions with the women around him like he's in his own element - no pressure and tension at all, unlike with all the other men.

as such, I'm more willing to use yin and femininity interchangeably in discussing lxy (while it's not necessarily applicable to every point that will be mentioned albeit there being some degree of implied association). and it's for the sake of elucidating what I feel is an intention or very plausible reading of the canon text in parsing feminine experiences in lxy's character. and thus, his queerness.

one last note is that taoism is going be mentioned quite a bit as well because of how much it as a philosophy honours the yin quality. its key tenets include valuing passiveness and inaction as a form of action, and submitting to the nature of things. and we will see how those come up in lxy's life too. (though I'm not gonna attempt to deep dive into it here beyond broad strokes of it.)

a huge part of li xiangyi's yin actually manifests in him being a passive person. this applies not just to li lianhua, but also li xiangyi. I know. ok wait hear me out. the idea of yinyang is after all components that can change and are relational to each other: thus, there were points in li xiangyi's life when he was less passive than other points, but they ultimately don't match up to the degree of aggression displayed by other men around him. so relative to their display of proactivity and aggression, he can be considered as passive. the best example is that of shan gudao proposing to launch an offensive on jinyuan alliance, while lxy - as much as he was arrogant about it - was standing his ground on not taking action in favour of peace.

it has already showed up in his childhood as well. he wasn't a particularly competitive child: 从来都没有谁要和你争 nobody has ever thought of competing with you over anything, he told sgd as he recalled of their times growing up. it was in fact sgd who was desperate to control and override lxy's presence. baby lxy did not hesitate at all over giving up on winning in favour of protecting his only rare few close relationships left in the world (given how hard-earned relationships are when they're non-familial !!!!). as much as I resent the one-dimensional writing of sgd, he has served as a very strong marker to highlight on lxy's yin.

I've harped on it several times before but this is the time I finally get to explain it proper: my own theory is that li xiangyi became an unparalleled swordsmaster because of his yin/feminine quality, not in spite of it. an interesting point that had been out in the open unclaimed until it was brought up in our friend group is that, li xiangyi does not actually fit anybody's conventional image of a 武林盟主 wulin mengzhu (ie. ruler of wulin). it would most likely have been some burly, muscular, ultra-masculine dude. even if they don't look like the demonic monk, it should be someone more like di feisheng. but. it's li xiangyi, the boyish, delicate-looking kid, who came to the top. (no wonder people - mostly men - love or love to bully hate him like weak men hate powerful women??)

"why didn't they cast someone who looks more like a wulin mengzhu (read: traditionally manly)?" no, no that's precisely the point. nobody said wulin mengzhu have to look manly. and also who is to define the manliness required to be in a place of authority? (or in my other meta, we would ask, who is to define anybody gets to have the authority over anyone else at all?)

by taoist ideal, gentleness is the most refined form of strength. li xiangyi has been haunting and distracting me in my chinese calligraphy practices lately because I'm thinking about how this must be the closest to what it felt like lxy becoming the best swordsman in jianghu. (so pretentiously brainrotten of me, I know, BUT IT'S REAL and I'm suffering.) mastering a chinese art is essentially about mastering a delicate balance between force and gentleness; being able to draw force from softness 柔中带刚 and an ability to maintain this balance. a beginner will instinctively hold a brush for the first time with brute, unrefined force. some fairly reputable contemporary calligraphers, according to my teacher, can be seen as being either too soft or too forceful - but are still able to pass off as good enough. it's then, the master of masters who will have the sophistication of a firm yet flexible control of the brush with the appropriate use of gentleness/laxness that produces a harmony of strokes. this idea extends to any other sort of chinese craft or practice including traditional chinese medicine, and I believe, swordsmanship too. I'm taking a fucking leap of faith here to say this because I practise NO sort of (chinese) martial arts, I must caveat. (someone who does may want to say something...) but theoretically that should be how it works.

it is not for no rhyme or reason, or *handwaves* that lxy emerged to the top AND is almost undefeatable. among a competitive, forceful (ie. yang) wulin, li xiangyi stood out with a power and energy defined by yin (ie. gentleness and stability) that led him to create his signature 扬州慢 yangzhouman. it is characterised by 慢 slowness (my calligraphy teacher says to us all the time to take it slow), and also described by dfs as 中正绵长 - which I would best describe by painting a picture of a steady and stable stream. these precisely speak of the essence of a mastery of gentleness as strength to me.

conversely, dfs's way in mastering power is very largely premised on taking action because he literally had no other choice in the environment he grew up in. both of them develop in opposite ways. it was the case of gentleness for lxy clearly because he grew up in a safe, nurturing environment that had allowed him to be slow and steady at his own pace, drawing on his natural gifts.

now top of the wulin world at 17, li xiangyi founds sigu sect. li xiangyi, the boy before becoming menzhu and li xiangyi the leader of sigu sect are not the same.

how then did a (relatively) passive boy like lxy end up founding sigu sect. this lxy is the one who was fostered into competition - though not in an abusive, twisted way. in fact he was raised in a rather taoist way by his shifu: to be honest with yourself and respect your opponent. so he honoured whatever powers he had been bestowed with by nature. he gives into it. even so, at another level, I just have a sense that shifu and shiniang's competitive marital spat had an insidious effect on the boys...though the detrimental effect was more on sgd than lxy. baby lxy feels like a sweet-natured kid who was just in his own zone, you know - some (aka sgd) would say, too much of him even, to have not realised what was wrong at all with his shixiong for years.

that's not all of course. I've always gotten the vibes that his attitude behind forming sigu sect felt more like, this is what all the good men of jianghu do and I will have to do it now especially that I'm the best. it didn't feel particularly personal to me, but rather what would have been expected of him by the social climate of wulin jianghu (eg. lxy saying to 光耀师门 bring honour to his teacher). it's definitely not an expectation from his shifu, who explicitly told him that he was never expected to become a noble figure of any sort, but just to be alive and contented. as concluded by the man himself as li lianhua: "有些人入了江湖是为了立心，而有的人入江湖为的是立命。我却不知道自己真正想要的是什么。some people enter jianghu for the cultivation of the mind, others for a cultivation of a meaningful life. but I never knew what I truly wanted." he was ultimately, unwittingly a passive player in his own story of becoming the great sigu sect leader.

(at this point, as a side note, I do wonder if there were any other similar sects or alliances that function the same as sigu sect that came before it. because I'm damn well sure there must be something, as likely as there must have been generations of wulin legends who came before lxy. but of course, this is not what the story is concerned with at all and I'm ok with that.)

it's crucial to point out that, even despite this being the phase of his yang in the display of taking action and enacting firmness, lxy had still done sigu sect with the sole purpose and manner of upkeeping peace and order (in the way of the pro-universal love, anti-aggression mohist 侠 xia leader of the people). he's still very characterised by yin in my books, especially when vis-à-vis to sgd.

a li xiangyi full of himself and made himself too useful to the people was only bound for a great asteroidal fall, in the concept of 物极必反 - or in taoist lexicon 反者道之动 (ie. anything that has reached its limit will only start developing in the opposite direction). if you think you're above all, you can only go down.

this manifests during the next time he took action - and it was one so forceful that it overpowered even his opponent, dfs who ended up being the passive, receiving party in this case - was in initiating the battle at donghai 10 years ago... and gee oh boy. it didn't end well - for both of them, but even more so for lxy. (dfs was like 'tis but a scratch (shrugs)' as compared to him being ripped off his tendons by jiao liqiao like nezha did to the dragon prince. truth is he had to go into a 10-year healing retreat served by his entourage. :p) ok, I digress.

xiao zijin was quick to attribute sigu sect's fall to lxy's arrogance - in turn setting the stage for lxy's 10 years of self-hatred and the framing of lxy as a villain? irresponsible figure? by jianghu. (god forbid girls do anything! ok for legal reasons, this a joke.) lxy lost his mind in ways I believe he never had in his life there and then upon seeing his shixiong dead. so, you could say he led the jianghu world to ruins out of love (using this term loosely). but it feels inaccurate to say it's due to arrogance. he did not do that out of self-importance or ego, especially when the revenge for sgd was a collective decision made by sigu sect as we know from the flashback. so when llh pinned all fault on himself for being arrogant in the past, it is with caution to take his words because that's the unreliable narrator in him speaking.

anyway, it's precisely li xiangyi that is capable of bouncing back from such a fatal crisis, equipped with his yin and a mastery that gave him the power of flexibility.

it's extremely vital to re-establish that literally the only thing that was keeping li xiangyi alive, physically, as li lianhua is yangzhouman. (monk wuliao literally said that to lxy even though he did facilitate in saving him.) it's the yangzhouman that was drawn from lxy's mastery of yin. without yangzhouman, li xiangyi would not even have the chance to become li lianhua and undergo any needed process of transformation. without li xiangyi, there would have been no yangzhouman. no li xiangyi, no li lianhua, get it?

the point is not to deny the change li xiangyi wants to make and has made. but to acknowledge that change isn't about complete erasure and destruction. something from you survives. something in you had kept you alive to have you come so far, regardless of all the bad bits that you want to denounce of. you've always been worth it.

bringing back the thing about his new name: the distinction must be made that he did not pick it because it was feminine but it just so happened a feminine name had resonated with him. (read: he didn't necessarily identify as a woman but identified with femininity. at least within the parameters of canon text.)

he also made an interesting choice to retain his surname for someone who was desperate to sever ties from his past. hmm. or maybe he wasn't that desperate? when li lianhua says li xiangyi is dead, I believe it meant that li xiangyi the sigumen menzhu is dead rather than li xiangyi as an entirety. li lianhua is a returning to the path lxy could have gone if he did not establish sigu sect, the path that shifu wanted him to take. when he walked to the doors of sigu sect in the aftermath, nothing was actually stopping him from going back (people were still around and alive, instead of all dead people, you know)... except for himself. taking that action would have been too much for him. so he went with the flow of life giving him a chance at rebirth and walked away. there, inaction as a form of action.

zhan yunfei and qiao wanmian have said to li lianhua, oh that doesn't sound like li xiangyi at all. but has it been considered that, maybe it was sigu sect's lxy who wasn't the real lxy? sigu sect lxy was one big performance of the values of masculinity and heteronormativity that llh had came to an awareness of, and eventually struggle with again and resist against in the final year of his life. there had only been some glimpses of his true nature allowed (validated by fang duobing talking about lxy at his altar).

imho, most flashbacks of lxy during that period felt impersonal and more like a template of a hero expected to marry his girl at 18. going through all the motions and steps of a normative life even before he was old enough to grasp and explore his own identity and what it meant in the world. no wonder he denounced so much of what he had done as lxy including liking girls. walking away then also meant a walk away from those duties and expectations. li lianhua is li xiangyi liberated from masculine duties and heteronormative performance.

in doing that, he had the opportunity for the first time in his life to explore what he truly wanted, at least within the parameters of what he could afford to do at that point. he could go on to build a domestic, feminine life within the space of jianghu (as I've established here). it's a kind of feminine lifestyle that doesn't quite exist in mainstream society - being a woman there meant to stay put in a domestic space without much room to move socially. nor did it exist in wulin jianghu because even the women there like shi-guniang and jlq were expected to be masculine, aggressive, competitive. so building a mobile home in the space of jianghu is his way of defining the life he wants and can have. li lianhua is the extension of femininity in li xiangyi - and one that can be free.

it's also worth talking about in my opinion what is one of the most important and a favourite dihua moment: when dfs said to lxy that his greatest weakness was to like being a hero. and a swordsman should be without weaknesses. I'm forever wrapped up in how many layers this can be read in. was he mad at lxy for liking to be a hero or having weaknesses, or both? if the former, it was dfs criticising, based on lxy's public reputation, lxy's oversized illusions about being a hero - a figure of masculinity with an unrealistic sense to uphold noble goals eg. saving the world etc. that is actually perfectly logical coming from dfs, the straightforward, no-nonsense, morally neutral guy with no illusions about heroism (in this case, he feels more like a yin). but at the same time, we should understand that lxy's motivations behind the donghai battle are more personal than noble. if any, it was actually the opposite of noble - it was like he was acting out of the role of a caretaker of his family, and at a cost of the peace and order of jianghu he was set on guarding(!!) dfs also knew that lxy was there just for his shixiong. and so, dfs, who happens to be the epitome of yang, can be read as a symbol of masculinity disapproving of lxy for being sentimental and emotional; for having the "feminine" desires to simply want to defend his family (not saying those are exclusively feminine traits but they have been conventionally associated as feminine). I think both layers of reading are correct and should work together to contribute to the complexity of their characters. (we can see how it contributes to lxy and dfs being the perfect yinyang halves to each other, which I will come back to briefly touch on later.)

for 10 years he lived a life of seclusion and staying-in-his-own-lane a taoist would be proud of. he knew he was dying and has always been ok with dying, as he claimed. but did he want to die? to think of it, it was the opposite. because in those 10 years when he could have 100% just taken action to take his own life, he didn't. in fact, he lived on and took care of himself in the way shifu wanted him to. he had simply preferred letting nature run its course. if bicha didn't take him, he wasn't gonna do anything. but if he died one day very soon, he would be ok with it too. sure, he was maybe banking on a lead to sgd's whereabouts to appear during his last years alive but that clearly wasn't the only thing on his mind for NINE years because he didn't actively go out seeking for that either. this is basically him telling dfs that he would just lie in the sun and wait for the sweet release of death, if dfs were to force him to fight. not even the mortal threat from dfs was enough to move him into action of fighting back or killing himself.

time and again, lxy as llh was dragged into fdb's cases but not only that, he also maintained an impersonal distance with them. it's starkly different from the usual (wuxia) hero archetypes (for eg. fdb) who would be more impassioned and personally invested in the plight of the victims- or unlike most seemingly aloof protagonists who would somehow grow emotionally invested over time. one of the many things I love about llh is that he never tries a second time to persuade people out of their decisions he finds unwise (eg. him just wanting to move on in response to the girls in 女宅 insisting on staying behind with their slave master at first.) he will not interfere in other people's choices made in their own lives. it's not his business. he didn't even want to be there, to be honest.

however as the story progresses, more and more people - especially men, his past, and the leads to the truth came back to demand and taunt him into doing something. they vary from well-meaning people without any harm intended such as fdb intruding upon his private space completely uninvited and qwm wanting him back; to dfs merely seeking him as a mean to an end initially (eg. I only need him to live long enough to have one last fight); and finally, on the other end of the spectrum, outright aggressive and hostile people like sgd and xzj who wanted him to die. under all this pressure, he tried his best to deflect, but he does waver especially when it comes to matters concerning the people he cares about aka his obsession wish of 10 years of looking for sgd's remains that had lied low until fdb entered his life, and then later on taking revenge for his shifu.

looking for sgd became his final bid at taking action. he was operating on a slim chance of getting some emotional closure from finding out his shixiong is dead for real, yes. what a good plan. but objectively unnecessary. or surprise! uhhh...finding out his beloved shixiong is actually alive and would strangle him for one corn chip? AND OH NO IT GOT WORSE- uncovering a devastating truth about his shifu's death that he could have totally gone on with life fine without knowing if he had continued not caring.

but it is sometimes just impossible not to care - it is only human to care. and he is human, not an icon in the image of a hero. so he took a chance, once more, and it killed him in unprecedented ways. it's donghai all over again. things in life don't go as planned. you fuck around and it fucks you back. finding out the truth behind his shifu's death and his family background from the past did nothing for him as li lianhua living in the present.

it's no wonder that this lxy decisively relinquishes the desire to take action in the end. he goes back to letting nature run its course. and this time, stands firmly to it despite everyone begging him otherwise. wangchuan flower could only give him a recovery (or survival?) rate of 30%. there's a 70% chance of failure and even in the 30% he was not sure what he was to become. in comparison, dfs took a 10% chance game of survival in a heartbeat, and it pushed him to new heights. that's how they differ: he thrives by taking risks and action while lxy the other way round. so, something like that has happened before and he wants none of it again.

he leaves lotus tower, only taking his horse and a sack - relinquishing almost every other material belonging he had - and sets off on a journey. before xzj interrupted...where to was he going?? I wonder. we don't know for sure, I think? and are we allowed to know? that makes the scene he had with xzj an understated inflection point in the very last part of his journey. yes, he was already on his way to...maybe die? but not necessarily. you don't have to travel distances with your belongings for that, right? or speak to dfs personally about not wanting to fight? (borrowing one of @ananeiah's takes.) regardless, he was definitely leaving behind jianghu - not only wulin jianghu (he already did that 10 years ago), but also the jianghu space he had carved out in the last 10 years.

what sparked the decision to jump off the cliff in him was dfs's words from the night of their wedding 10th donghai anniversary: 横扫天下容易，断相夷太剑不易 conquering the world is easy, breaking xiangyi sword is not. in the original context, dfs was talking about defeating lxy being harder than conquering the world. but when it came to this scene, it was to lxy about forsaking the very last worldly possessions he had after already giving up on lotus tower and hulijing (including releasing his horse), especially his only connection left to swordsman lxy.

perhaps it had dawned on him that, wanting things at all was bad for him. in the last 10 years, he lived a life of seclusion, wanting very little. but he had still wanted things. there were still things he couldn't let go of that had led him to this state. despite having lived on an identity inspired by a buddhist teaching for 10 years, maybe it was only at this point that he was finally the closest to reaching an understanding of it. (I wish I was knowledgeable enough right now to dive into the possible buddhist reading here but alas. I'll leave it to our resident expert @markiafc)

it doesn't quite matter in the end where he was going after all. what mattered was that he literally went where the water took him and we're not supposed to know where it ends. I'm not seeing this in a bad and pessimistic way though. I think the relief in all this is that he had tried his best to within his abilities. also it's a form of enlightenment in relinquishing a desire, an obsession, a need to take any more action in order to live well. thus his ending felt to me relatively tender, empowering, and kind - albeit bittersweet and heartaching - than other possible kinds of ending, in a story where it was very possible for him to have died under the knives of his opponents or bicha at any moment, outside of his control.

if you've come so far in this post, congratulations! but also a reveal is that... you're not immune to the dihua propaganda threaded throughout this post. :P

as mentioned, other men like sgd and xzj in lxy's life were incredibly hostile to him. their yang nature overwhelmingly powers his yin. but dfs is different. dfs is the yang counterpart that fits perfectly to his yin.

dfs's yang is one that contains yin, that mirrors lxy's balance of yang in yin. it was suggested in text they are yinyang-coded meant to complement each other, given that whenever wangchuan flower's yin vs yang properties were discussed, the two men were always spoken about in the same breath. more importantly, as with the above few analyses of dfs's words playing a big role in shaping of lxy's choices with multiple meanings - as well as their day-to-day interactions - we can see that they constantly play off each other.

dfs's yang energy has been used to help lxy prolong his life (though not saving him entirely), while lxy has used his yin energy to save dfs and subsequently helped him attain his breakthrough. dfs has also helped lxy in his breakthrough of yin but not in the same way as dfs's cultivation of his combative powers, and rather, it's for lxy an understanding of his own path to take in life - a cultivation of the mind (both times 10 years before and after). given how significant dfs is in the shaping of lxy's realisation of the yin path - alike his shifu has, it's no wonder that they were the only two people lxy had imagined in his last sword dance of a farewell to jianghu.

with each of them coming together to form the perfect yin-yang model, they're a harmony of yin and yang representing the cosmos. what I also love is that they didn't start out as a perfect fit, but only towards the end of the story was the harmonisation completed, which makes sense for two components that are always in a flux influencing each other. the fact that they were number 1 and 2 of wulin, and being the only ones capable of understanding each other in a level nobody else could... it all reinforces the cosmic sense of their relationship. they're the halves to a whole, fitting in a specific way nobody else can.

(I mean. technically this is going into the space of extrapolation based on a tangential interpretation of canon text, so do take it with a pinch of salt. but of course this pinch of salt can do wonders for a shipper's feast... :P and this certainly could have been a meta of its own expanding on dfs's side of the analysis, but this is it for now in this context.)

to think of it, li xiangyi has actually died more than that one time that turned him into li lianhua. first was a death of him as a nanyin royalty - I resent having to bring up nanyin like it should hold any weight to the narrative as far as I'm concerned, but the point being that he had a completely different (familial-based) life before that still stands. then he had a rebirth as li xiangyi, disciple and swordsman to his shifu and shiniang, and later died again when li xiangyi the sigu sect leader took over. lxy the sigu sect leader died at sea in the battle 10 years ago and came back as li lianhua. (just like nezha, died after battling at east sea and rebirthed from the lotus) li lianhua then dies by the end of the drama.

there can be a myriad of interpretations as to what exactly happened to him, including the possibility that he's still alive. regardless, we can agree that li lianhua as an identity has ran its course, and he had to evolve again. but into what form?

in the line of thought of yin and femininity, and how his transformation has been in an increasing degree of presentation of femininity - even way back when I was watching the show, I had the idea of him living socially as a woman post-li lianhua. I don't know what he would be realistically doing or what could be practical for him in such an identity. but conceptually it was sensible and compelling to me before diving deeper into the details. (I have more elaboration to do on this that I won't be talking about here publicly but it is in the same strain of idea as this other comparative meta I wrote.)

I think the next possible identity lxy can assume - alive in the material realm or not - is one that will be beyond a material being. a nameless entity. once you've gone through the phases of life - from not knowing to knowing, and perfecting knowledge, then to the surpassing of knowledge - you surpass all worldly existence, and become one with the cosmos.

I end this off with an excerpt from Tao Te Ching's Chapter 41 (I'm not pretending to have read the whole book ok but I couldn't resist including this):

明道若昧，进道若退，夷道若纇 [...] 道隐无名 The bright path seems dim; Going forward seems like retreat; The easy way seems hard [...] The Tao is hidden and without name. (x)

the character translated into "easy" is the same 夷 yi of li xiangyi's name. somehow this seems to encapsulate the journey of his life: one that seems blessed and smooth-sailing but ending up to be rocky and turbulent. but at the end of the day, after all that he had been through, he will become hidden and without name.

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #lhl #lhlmeta #my posts #a big win for the inaction fandom. lxy would have been patron saint #this inevitably turned into a 'lhl is a taoist and buddhist story if not a very chinese story' meta hbhjbjhbhjjb #the last thing i do before going to sleep is write this meta. the first thing i do after waking up is write this meta.#i feel so insane writing this. it kept growing like a monster. do you think this is a joke it's like my part-time job now #but it's one of the few times in my life i have confidence in my insanity. so.#crazier thing is. this meta is approaching 6k words yet i still think there must be things i haven't covered.#the last section is so nuts idk how i even wrote it guys i think i was possessed #it's also like the most pretentious way to put that he's dead in this world ok hjbjhbhjbhjbjbh #to be clear iirc the drama didn't say LXY'S POWER/ENERGY IS YIN in the same way it literally said dfs's energy is yang #but it's definitely implied by the explanation of the flower's healing properties for both of them. on top of yangzhouman #also fuck. another reason he didn't choose to save himself was so dfs could have the yang flower which he believed was what dfs wanted #thank u frens mark and ana for indulging my brain in the first time i brought the lxy as woman thing up. for it to have come this far #ofc disclaimer is that a lot of this is my own reading. it doesnt have to be agreed by everyone #i would be very happy though if any part of it resonated with anybody #also a good part of the analysis is based on my memory of the show. though i did revisit parts selectively to verify. sooooo. yeah.

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jjuwuni · 3 months

Text

shortcut to heaven | yang jungwon x oc

pairings — yang jungwon x reader

genre — fluff, angst, college!au, fake dating trope, drama, occasional smut (minors dni please)

summary — Two strangers seemingly cross paths, everywhere they go.

Would they find their heaven among their chaotic lives?

“ That’s right, I’m talking to you, ” Jungwon, THE Yang Jungwon, with his arm, outstretched, index pointing right at me, “ Do you want to be my girlfriend? Fake girlfriend, that is, so make sure you don't end up falling for me. ” With his right dimple in full view, he smirks at me.

And that was the day my whole life turned upside down.

warnings — a SOCMED AU but with heavy narrations, fake dating trope with some twist n' turns, compared to my other stuff this one is definitely more on the cute, fluff side hehe so not much warnings in terms of content ! OT7 enha is present, as well as probably other 4th gen idols, will use nwjns minji as the faceclaim for y/n, alcohol, drunken mishaps, profanity, there might be slightly dark themes surrounding family and love, no mnc i assure you, making out, smut etc. will happen so minors 👀 watching you !

[ preview (w/ character list) here ! ]

A/N: this is the first part of the STH series!! hope you like it!! it's quite a jam-packed chapter ^^ do let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be added into the taglist as well.

taglist: @jwnghyuns

MEET THE POWER RANGERS & THEIR SHENANIGANS

WON GETS SULKY AND TAKES TO TWITTER 😆

NARRATION — YJW'S POV

Jungwon fixes his hair in place under his beanie that morning, spraying a good amount of his Dior Sauvage perfume and heading down a long flight of stairs toward the foyer of their estate. Yes, estate.

Some would describe his life as being born with a silver spoon. Or in the Yang’s case, a diamond-encrusted spoon. His life was everything but normal, with their family being one of the most well-known families belonging to the 1% of society.

The best part? He was bound to inherit this all.

Him, Sunghoon, Niki and Heeseung have been friends for as long as they all can remember. Though varying in ages, the four of them have hit it off since they were all in diapers, with their parents being friends since their childhood days as well.

To put it simply, the three other guys’ families were also a part of the same bracket of society.

Some would also describe Jungwon as having everything in life.

But one thing was missing.

The one thing that he’s been working hard for the most.

Han Sooyoung. Jungwon has had a crush on her since they were classmates back in high school. She was everything he could ever, ever want. If he were to be the king of the world, he would want no one else but her to be his queen.

Here’s the catch though, she doesn’t want him.

Or at least, that’s what she says every time. But deep down, Jungwon knew that she was only trying to play hard-to-get, and who was he to deny her of that? If it meant that he would get her in the end, Jungwon was willing to move mountains for her.

WELCOME TO JINAE'S LIFE !

NARRATION — READER'S POV

Jinae was fucked, to say the least. After coming back to her dorm at 4am, she didn't realize that she passed out on her bed out of pure exhaustion. As much as she didn’t want to work nights, she knew she needed the extra money for her daily expenses.

Ever since she set foot into her university journey, she told her parents not to worry about her anymore. She no longer wanted to be a burden to her family. After all, her family was chest-deep in expenses and debts.

Which is why she resorted to becoming a working student - juggling two jobs along with her academics. Hard as it was, Jinae thought this would be for the better.

This is why she studies hard and works hard. She desires to one day give back to her parents, after all the sacrifices they've made for her and her older brother, working tirelessly for them to be able to put food on their plates and a roof over their heads.

Luckily, she made it in time, just in time, as the second group just finished their presentation.

When Jinae entered through the back door of the classroom, all she heard were resounding cheers and woooo’s! all around. Sitting next to her best friend Sunoo in the back row, she couldn’t help but scowl.

YANG JUNGWON was front and center, with a rather cheeky smile on his face, as if taking in all the cheers from their classmates and relishing in the moment. Of course, he would get that kind of reception from their peers. He was well-loved, no, scratch that, worshipped - no matter where he went and no matter what he did.

But to someone like Jinae, it was all so superficial. Everyone is just being nice to the guy with the money, the guy with the clout, the nepo baby. Even though she was certain that he didn’t know nor even had the slightest inkling of her existence, Jinae abhorred people like him.

Because people like him come from families who take advantage of people like her parents.

She’s seen it all firsthand.

She watched as affluent families demolished their houses and told them to move out, she’s seen her dad beg on his knees, wishing they wouldn’t take their house away just so they could build big buildings around the city as a display of wealth.

And so, no one could blame her for harboring such feelings around people like Jungwon.

Not that she would say it out loud though, because this university is his. He and his friends had everyone wrapped around their fingers. Even their professor, who can currently be seen smiling and clapping for Jungwon’s group.

"Yo, good luck out there." Remember when she just said that Jungwon probably didn't know who she was? Well, maybe she was wrong on that end because she heard him say that next to her ear as they passed each other on the way to the front of the class, coupled with a little tap on the shoulder and the smile he had on earlier still in place.

Jinae could only sneer, it sounded so condescending coming from him.

EYES EMOJI @ THIS TBH

WELCOME TO THE RANGERS HIDEOUT ! (a visualizer)

NARRATION — YJW'S POV

Going down from his Audi R8 silver vehicle, Jungwon makes his way toward the back area of the Yang estate. A couple of years ago, this part of the estate was pretty much a forest. But the four friends decided that as they were getting older, they needed their own mancave-slash-hang-out place.

A place where they could all just meet up after their long days, talk, drink, and hang out.

The entrance to the hideout looked unassuming, you wouldn’t think that there was anything there, just a mound of soil and grass and a cave opening, but as you head down a flight of concrete stairs and walk up to the steel door to open it, you’re greeted by a different world.

The four of them built this idea from scratch. And no one knows about the passcode to the cave except the four of them (and the people who are tasked to clean it every so often, of course).

As Jungwon enters the rangers hideout, (yes, it’s what they call it, as the four of them were OBSESSED with power rangers growing up), he spots Ni-ki playing pool in one corner, with a sullen Heeseung standing at the other end - clearly giving us an indication on who was winning.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was set up in the bar area, laptop and books open, with a glass of scotch in his hand.

Jungwon decides to join Sunghoon by the bar, grinning at him whilst sitting down on the bar stool next to his, “Are you seriously doing homework? Hyung come on, will you live a little?”

The older only chuckles in response. With that, Jungwon doesn’t pry, he knows the kind of immense pressure Sunghoon is in. His dad and his family were part of a long line of lawyers and prosecutors, and if he were to aim for Harvard Law School, he needed a flawless transcript.

“Yo, Jungwon hyung, how'd it go with Sooyoung this morning?” The younger Ni-ki asks, making his way over to the duo by the bar.

The older between the two had to stop himself from cringing, “Eh, you know. The usual.” Rubbing his nape, he could only shrug his shoulders. “I brought her tulips. Have them flown in from Europe. She took them, said thank you, kissed me on the cheek then left me to go to class.”

Ni-ki inhaled through his teeth, it was tough seeing his best friend like this. “Bro, seriously, I know we make fun of you a lot but are you ever planning to give up? Clearly, Sooyoung doesn’t like you like that. And you know what? It’s so sad to see THE Yang Jungwon getting rejected over and over.”

It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of that, Jungwon knew he looked like a fool at this point after relentlessly pursuing her for years. But he couldn’t help it. “The heart wants what it wants, Niks.”

“Oh puhlease, save the cringe sayings for someone else, hyung.” The younger replies, his face clearly showing a look of disgust. “I admire your persistence. That's all I have to say.”

The other two older guys watched on, donning sad smiles, knowing that they both couldn’t talk Jungwon out of it either. The three of them know him well enough to say that once he sets his mind to something, he tunnel visions.

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writingsofwesteros · 1 year

Note

Reader is Otto's young new bride who hates him and has an affair with Daemon Targaryen. He enjoys spoiling Otto's little wife who is practically his cock slave!!

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

Gods, Otto’s boring, monotone voice continued to pierce Daemon’s ears as he lounged back. The council room half way through its talk. The rogue Prince had been bored ever since he sat down at the table, well, that was a lie. His hand subtly moved under the table to reach your head; pushing you further down his cock.

His hips jerked and your soft gagging was covered up by the arguments that had begun already. A smirk tugged on his lips as he locked eyes with your husband across from him. His hold in your hair only tightened as he locked eyes with Otto. “I am sure you would like this meeting to end the most out of all of us.” Daemon teased; his tone calm.

The hand of the King raised an eyebrow, “And why is that, my Prince?” Otto hummed. You nearly stopped at the sound of your husband’s voice but Daemon’s hand guided you back down. He had trained you to take his whole cock in over the moons of your marriage; you had become addicted to it.

“Do you not have a pretty, young wife to see?” Daemon purred, his tone teasing Otto as you nearly whimpered around his cock. Your tongue swirled around his head, taking his cum already leaking out. Your own inner thighs were completely soaked with your wetness gushing from your pussy.

“Do not talk about my wife.” Daemon chuckled at his words. He was fucking his wife and what would Otto do about it. His chuckling continued even as his brother tried to calm the situation. All the while you were sucking him as if your life depended on it. Gods, he had gotten lucky with you.

“I think this is a perfect time to end the meeting.” Viserys hummed. All the while you concentrated on sucking his head. The act quickly became sloppy. You were completely in your own world that you did not notice when it was only you and the rogue Prince left in the room. “Fucking slut.” Daemon purred, leaning back into his chair.

You whimpered around him; the act sending vibrations onto his cock. His hips jerked now; he was fucking your face and all you could do was take it. Your gagging echoed around the room as your drool and his pre-cum moved over his cock as you bobbed your head. His fingers moved through your locks with ease.

“I bet you are soaking wet, hmm?” Daemon continued to taunt you; his tone was becoming breathless now as he took his own pleasure from you. Your eyes locked up at him; eyes watering. You were a complete mess. He’d ruined you so good and all you could think about was him.

Daemon’s moans echoed around the room without care. His stomach was tightening in pleasure. There was nothing more he wanted to do than cum down your throat but your pretty pussy was bound to be wet for him. His cock twitched at the mere thought. “Get up.” The Prince ordered you as you softly panted when he leaned away from your mouth.

You crawled out from under the table. His hand hit your arse as soon as you were in view. Your bare body was on full display. “Look at you.” He hummed. Those dark eyes of his watching your every move as you stood up. He roughly took your face in his hand; two of his fingers moving into your mouth.

Daemon leaned in and spit left his mouth and into yours. “Swallow.” You did as he ordered. Your body was near shaking in pleasure. His free hand moved in between your legs, cupping your weeping pussy that was soaked beyond measure. He spanked it again and again; hitting your clit.

He squeezed your clit between two of your fingers and you were near sobbing now. The pain and pleasure ripping through you whilst he only smirked. “Lie on the table.” Daemon hummed, slapping your arse once more as you shakingly moved past him. You gulped as you moved onto it; lying down. Gods, anyone could come in and see you, you thought to yourself.

“Spread your legs like a good girl.” Daemon hummed and you did just that. His fat head tormented your entrance. Your wetness drenching him already as he cruelly chuckled. “Beg me.” The words had you crying out, “Please! Daemon, I need it ..need you ne—.” Your eyes widened as he brutally slammed into you.

You were speechless; your lips parted in a silent scream as he quickly jerked his hips. His cock pushing deep and against your spot without trouble. “You should see yourself.” He whispered but you were already gone and he knew it. Your head fell back as you clawed at the table; arching to him.

Daemon only had a handful of thrusts before you were squirting around his cock. “So pathetic.” He hummed; his thrusts never slowing as you babbled absolute nonsense. His stomach was soaked with your wetness as he stared down. His cock easily fell in and out as the floor began to be soaked too.

His hand soon found your sensitive pussy and roughly rubbed your clit. He tapped it again and again, causing your orgasm to be prolonged as well as your second one to roll on in. “No..too much..to..Dae..” You hiccuped in pleasure whilst his chuckles sounded out. His own thrusts were becoming sloppy now.

He leaned in and forced you to lock eyes with him. Your heavy breasts bounced as his cock pushed even deeper. “Going to give you a babe…going to look like me.” He whispered into your ear; taunting you as his thrusts became shallow. “No..no, please..” You cried out but it was too late.

His orgasm ripped through him with a growl of desire falling from him. His cock pushed deeper than usual; flooding you with his cum as your own climax came to you. Your legs were shaking as he moved to bury his head in between your breasts. You pulsated around his cock; milking him.

His hands greedily moved over your body as his lips passionately captured your own. “Clean me.” Daemon hummed as you whimpered out. Your mind is hazy and your body shaking as you slowly move to the floor. His soaked cock from your own wetness was in your hot mouth before you knew it.

“Good girl.” Demon whispered; gently stroking your hair now as your tongue slowly moved up and down his length. The obscene sound of your sucking echoed around the council whilst his smirk only widened. You moaned and looked up at him from under your lashes whilst your tongue continued to work.

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen smut

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wri0thesley · 2 years

Text

right before your eyes - ayato x reader x thoma (3k)

you are willing to pay any price for your lord’s . . . unusual tastes. thoma’s price, though, feels a little steeper.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. power imbalance (reader and thoma both work for ayato). sub reader and sub thoma, condescending mean dom ayato. thoma is getting cucked hard. fingering, masturbation, bondage, a little dirty talk, grinding against one’s shoe. coming in underwear (thoma). reader is referred to as ‘darling’, ‘songbird’, ‘birdie’, thoma is called ‘good boy’. reader is afab but no pronouns or gendered terms are used.

Thoma strains against his bonds, a soft noise escaping from his parted lips, his eyes going dark and wide and hungry - as Ayato steps away and leaves his handiwork fully visible. Your Master smiles at you both and takes an elegant seat on the bed beside you, his fingers curling over your leg and pulling it further onto his lap, hooking it over his own thigh, to ensure that Thoma has only the best view possible.

Thoma’s view, coincidentally, currently consists of your body, utterly bare. Your legs spread wide to reveal the slick space between them; wet, glistening, and entirely untouched by anyone. So far.

“My, Thoma,” Ayato almost purrs, his eyes narrowing as they flitter from you to his loyal retainer, lips curving into that wicked smile which always spells trouble. “You’re practically salivating.”

Ayato’s hand brushes over his own crotch; his cock is tenting the fabric already, the fine material pulled taut as he hums low in the back of his throat and lets his eyes go half-lidded. Thoma’s teeth dig into his bottom lip as he watches.

Ayato’s other hand comes to land on the soft skin of your thigh; gloved fingers brushing over where you’re already sweat slicked and warm, torturously close to your dripping centre but not yet wishing to dirty the silken fabric.

“Darling,” Ayato says to you. The pet name drips with affection, but it’s the affection that one gives to a loyal dog and not to their lover - nevertheless, your body responds yet again. Your heart thumps against your chest. Your breath grows short. The world seems to knit itself hot and tight around your head, leaving you in a fuzzy, confused headspace. “Touch yourself for us.”

Thoma lets out another whine. His green eyes are hungry and desperate; heat seems to coalesce all around him as if he’s in a swirl of his own hot haze, almost visible. That gaze does not move from where you and Ayato sit for a moment, and you hear the tell-tale sound of him straining against the rope that keeps his hands bound behind the back of the chair.

“Thoma,” Ayato warns, but it is fond despite the warning. “Come now. Our sweet little darling’s going to put on a show for us, aren’t you, pretty bird? Have a little patience.”

It is perhaps remiss of Ayato to refer to you as ‘theirs’; inferring on some level that Ayato is willing to share you. Ayato is only willing to share in so much as letting Thoma watch; letting him occasionally brush fingers over bare skin or fasten mouth to your thighs or sometimes use nothing but his tongue to trace the veins of Ayato’s cock. Thoma never gets to come.

Thoma gets to watch. Gets to enjoy. Gets to have himself pushed to the desperate needy entreating of your shared Master to please, please, if neither of you are going to touch him please at least let him touch himself--

The last time Ayato had deigned to let Thoma use his mouth on you, the fair-haired, gentle-souled retainer had lapped and sucked and licked at you like a man starved, hips grinding helplessly into the sheets of his own bed until he’d made a soft noise of surprise and Ayato’s musical voice had cut through your fog of pleasure to exclaim in delight;

“Thoma! How shameful. Did you just make a mess of yourself?”

There will be no such repeat of that today; instead, Thoma has been tied to a chair with wrists behind him. He’s been stripped of his jacket and his trousers; the width of his chest and the corded muscle in his biceps from handling loads of washing and heavy buckets straining as he tries to be a good boy for the young Master. The underwear that he wears pulled tense; his cock leaking precome through the fabric. There is nothing so soft as Thoma’s own immaculately laundered sheets for him to make a mess of right now - just the air above him, shimmering with heat, as Thoma struggles and flushes and sweats and gasps.

“Darling?”

You realise that you have paused. So distracted by Thoma; the big green eyes and the swollen lips and the puffs of breath that escape him, the way his fair hair falls over his face in sweat-soaked strands. Ayato pinches your thigh with the barest hint of impatience.

“S-sorry, My Lord,” you say, and Ayato rewards you with a smile - angles his head to yours to brush his lips over the crown of your head.

“Quite alright, little songbird,” he says. “Now . . . let us hear that pretty song of yours, won’t you?”

You bite your lip as you manoeuvre your fingers between your legs - let your fingertips skim the outer lips of your sex, as you squirm at the sensation. Thoma’s green eyes are transfixed on the space there; the sight of you spread wide open like a blossoming flower, as wet pools on the sheet beneath you.

“Aren’t they pretty?” Ayato hums, gloved fingers brushing your thigh higher and higher. One arm goes around your waist to drag you closer to him, to curve up higher and squeeze the weight of your breast. A sigh of pleasure dies in your throat. “Thoma. Tell them.”

“You’re beautiful,” Thoma rasps out, his gaze heart-wrenchingly wanting.

“Mm,” Ayato chuckles. The hand slipping up your thigh comes to hold onto your own instead; as he guides your fingertips to circle your fluttering hole. “I think you want something inside of you.”

“Yes, My Lord,” you agree, looking at him through pleasure and heat clouded eyes. He’s terribly handsome when he’s concentrating; the elegant lines of his face, his cheekbones, his mouth always turned up at only the very corners. “I-- may I?”

“You may,” Ayato tells you, and he even urges you to press two inside of you; to curl them just so, so that your fingertips brush against the spongy spot inside of you and your muscles twitch in pleasure. A gasp catches in your throat. “Ah. Let’s not forget about the rest of you, hm?”

He pulls his hand away from yours now that he’s assisted you in slipping fingers inside of you, but the silken fingertip brushes your clit as he goes, sending a frisson of electricity right down your spine.

“Use your other hand,” he tells you - so you do. There’s a mountain of pillows behind you, so you do not quite fall, but you have to readjust your position a little - all it serves to do, though, is give Thoma a better view of the two fingers stuffed into your cunt and how your body has stretched to allow them.

You brush them over your clit, not yet giving it full attention - Ayato hums in pleasure once more, as if this is merely a garden party and he is being entertained by some four-piece band or other. Thoma’s presence fades in and out of your consciousness as you increase your speed and pressure and the world narrows to only the heat and pleasure that your fingers are providing; the part of your body where electricity sparkles and flares and makes the complicated knots inside of you unravel.

For a time, that’s all there is - but Thoma’s breath becomes hard to ignore.

He’s panting, desperate and wanting. He hasn’t been so much as touched, and yet he’s ruffled like someone who has been despoiled; hair out of place and lip bitten-swollen and cheeks all ruddy and pink.

You’re close. It’s not fair.

Ayato sighs.

“Don’t come,” Ayato warns you, as he stretches out one leg and hooks the tip of his shoe beneath Thoma’s chair, urging the retainer to use his unrestrained legs to shimmy it forward. “I’ll be very unhappy with you if you do.”

You make yourself slow down on the hand playing with your clit, despite the fact that your body is screaming for you to go faster and harder and let yourself tip over the delicious precipice of your orgasm. Ayato’s needs and wants and desires come first. Ayato gives you a warm smile before he turns his attention back to Thoma - who has indeed taken the hint and is much closer to Ayato than before.

This close, it’s clear to you how much of a mess this whole ordeal has left the housekeeper.

“Good boy,” Ayato praises, and Thoma visibly shudders. You feel yourself clench at the expression on Thoma’s handsome face, around the two fingers still inside of you - and Ayato laughs again.

“My poor little predictable staff members,” he says, leaning down to capture you in a kiss that is more a bite of your lower lip than anything else. You are too messy and far gone to do anything other than slackly attempt to kiss him back, and strings of shimmering gossamer drool stretch than break as he pulls away. “You both simply love being told you’re doing a good job.”

“A-anything for you, My Lord,” Thoma says, breathlessly - and Ayato smiles at him, delighted. You watch as one of Ayato’s expensive shoes edges up Thoma’s ankle - brushes his calf, to the inseam of his thigh, and then--

Thoma’s eyelashes flutter as Ayato presses the sole of his shoe against where his cock is straining in his underclothes. He makes a wet gurgle of pleasure that is nearly a sob.

He’s gone so, so long without stimulation - watched Ayato help you touch yourself, heard Ayato and you discuss how he would treat you if he were given permission . . . that even Ayato’s shoe is almost more pressure than he can handle.

“Shh,” Ayato says, with delight in his eyes. “Ah. You wanted to be touched, didn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Thoma says, and his hips blindly grind towards Ayato’s shoe despite the inherent humiliation of it all. “B-but--”

“Carry on touching yourself,” Ayato says to you. “Thoma. Watch them.”

The bite in Ayato’s voice is clear to hear - but so is the arousal that saturates every word, making them hang heavy in the air. Ayato is no longer rubbing at himself, but from the corner of your eye you can tell he’s just as hard as Thoma. He’s just . . . better at controlling himself.

Your thumb brushes your clit again and it almost pushes you over the edge. You breathe through the desire to come - Ayato has not said you may, and you know better than to do it without permission. The slick noises of your fingers sliding in and out of you are obscene, but no more obscene than Thoma’s low moans and pants as Ayato carries on exactly what he’s doing.

“Tell him how much you wish it were his cock,” Ayato says, as his shoe rhythmically rubs against the bulge in Thoma’s underwear. Before you can speak, though, Thoma breaks in - too desperate to carry on being polite and well-mannered.

“M-my Lord,” Thoma says, voice broken, tears beading in his eyes. “Please-- if you carry on-- I don’t know if I can--”

“You’re getting off on it.” Ayato says with amused derision seeping from every syllable. “Oh, Thoma. You’re really a pervert, aren’t you? All of this time looking at me and our little songbird, imagining them . . . How many times have you jerked off thinking about us sucking your cock, hm?”

“My Lord--”

“Th-Thoma,” your voice makes him start, reedy and needy as it is; a trembling, snappable string. “I wish . . . I wish it were y-you touching me. Your fingers.” Thoma’s fingers are warm where Ayato’s are so often cool; calloused, where Ayato’s are immaculately maintained. Your cheeks heat. “Your . . . cock inside of me--”

(You have seen Thoma’s cock, though you have not taken it the same way you have taken Ayato’s. Ayato’s is longer; slender, pretty and pale, with a slight upward curve that makes you cry out into the ceiling - but Thoma’s is thicker. He flushes more deeply, leaks more slick precome over the girth of his shaft. You desperately want to know what it would feel like if Thoma were permitted to sheath it inside of you).

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Ayato says, all saccharine sweet, but you can sense the way that his leg tenses; his foot grinding more sure and certain against Thoma’s cock. Thoma whimpers. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Thoma admits. “Archons, yes--”

“I’ll make sure you get a good view when I fuck them,” Ayato says, like he’s bestowing some grand honour upon Thoma. “Ah. . . perhaps I’ll make them cry out your name instead. Would you like that?”

Whimpers and groans and needy noises. Thoma is losing control of himself, that much is clear - you can hear a sizzling that you think might be his Vision flaring to life, threatening to singe at the ropes.

You’re close yourself. Your lips feel swollen from biting, your fingers all covered in your own slick as they slip and slide inside of you. You grind your thumb against the nub of your clit, feeling yourself hovering on the precipice.

And Ayato’s voice cuts through the almost-peak, soft and soothing and lilting as ever.

“Let me help, darling.”

A gloved hand over your own - a finger slipping inside of you, silken glove going sticky wet with your slick as it comes to rest between the two fingers that are still buried within your walls and you squirm in heated need. It’s almost too much; the stretch is unusual, almost painful - but his thumb pushes your own away and he uses his own hand to grind on your clit at the same time as he works his foot over Thoma’s crotch.

You come first.

It’s hardly a surprise; there have been fingers inside of you and on you for what seems like hours now, your body on full display, Ayato’s honey-soft words and Thoma’s hungry glances and desperate panting all serving to make you needier than anyone in the room - but still Ayato coos at you as you soak slick all over his fingers.

“Oh, songbird,” he’s saying, as you vocalise soft moans and whimpers into the frenzied air. “I said I would help you, not that you could come yet--”

Whatever he was going to say, though, is broken off by Thoma’s whining.

The pressure of Ayato’s shoe and the lack of sensation has finally gotten to him, too; his hips helplessly rutting up into the sole of Ayato’s expensive footwear, his thighs trembling, beads of sweat rolling down his face as he pants and whimpers. A wet patch spreads over his underwear as feral delight takes over Ayato’s gaze and he loses interest in you for a moment.

“Thoma,” Ayato says. “Oh, Thoma . . . how filthy of you. Look what a mess you’ve made of yourself -- ahh, is that some on my shoe, too? Soaking through?” Thoma is trembling as Ayato eases his pressure only a touch; still almost petting at Thoma’s poor overstimulated cock through the fabric of his underwear as the retainer whimpers and shifts and huffs. “Oh, dear. I ought to make you lick it off.”

“My Lord--” Thoma whimpers. “A-apologies . . . I didn’t mean--”

“Neither of you can listen to instructions,” Ayato sighs, shaking his head, though a smirk is playing around his lips. “Oh dearie me.”

“I-I’m sorry, My Lord,” you respond to his sigh of faux frustration. “I-- please let me make it up to you . . .”

“Darling thing,” Ayato pulls his fingers out of you - smiles at you with endearment written clear on his face. “Of course you will.”

He turns to Thoma; leans forward, elbows on knees, and places the gloved hand that was formerly buried inside of you against Thoma’s lips.

“Be a good boy and make it up to me,” Ayato says. “Before I fuck our pretty songbird, take these off with your teeth, and perhaps when I’m done with them . . . we’ll see about letting you come again.”

It is not a promise; with Ayato, it very rarely is. You doubt that it will come to more fruition than Ayato perhaps letting Thoma spill his second load over your face or your chest; his come splattering on your bare skin. But Thoma’s eyes are still hazy as he wraps his mouth around Ayato’s fingers, as he sucks on the wet fabric a few times and drinks in the lingering taste of your sex before he makes any attempt to take them off with his teeth as Ayato asked.

Because the truth is stark, clear and real.

Both of you would do anything - absolutely anything - for your young Master. And if Thoma’s humiliation and your obedience is the price to pay for his pleasure, it is a price that you are both willing to see through.

Ayato smiles at Thoma. Rubs his thumb across the other man’s cheek - and stands, bestowing a soft kiss upon Thoma’s heated brow.

“Good boy,” Ayato says. “Let me give you a reward. Let me see. Ah, I know.” His smile doesn’t dissipate. “I’ll let you choose; which position would you like to see me fuck our dear little birdie in?”

#writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #thoma x reader #thoma smut #ayato x reader x thoma #poly ship tag #genshin impact posting #cucking for ts #power imbalance

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ewanmitchelll · 5 months

Text

Imagine Taylor Swift’s songs (I): Cruel Summer.

Imagine it’s a modern world and you, such a good girl, fall in love with Aemond Targaryen. But worst is… he’s already taken.

Warnings: fluff; drama, light smut. Rom-Com vibes.

***

You are Helaena’s best friend since college when you took a few of biology’s classes for your course. A bound that now surpasses times, you are often seen around at the Targaryen’s household, an inheritance of Helaena’s father to her, which she shares with Aemond and Aegon, her brothers.

Initially, Aegon had taken a like of you, but by then you were in a relationship, so nothing came to it. However, now you are single again and trying not to get yourself involved in further relationships when cupid seems to play with you again.

How could you know, but an opportunity to travel with Helaena and Aemond came up.

“It’s summer”, Laena is telling you as you have just arrived for Aegon’s party. House is full and you are dressed elegantly for the occasion, but you two are outside because your friend is not very fond of noisy people. “We should travel to countryside. Do you want to come with us?”

“Us who, Laena?”, you tilt your head, sipping your champagne. “And when do you plan to go?”

“Me and Aemond. We don’t like these parties Aegon throw, you know. So we want to get away as soon as we can”, she gives you a mischievous smirk.

You raise your eyebrows. Aemond is the one with a bad boy fame, socially awkward, and whom you rarely had seen these years. Nonetheless, like Helaena, he doesn’t strike your as the type of not fond of partying.

“He’s just busy working with his PhD in Humanities”, she tells you when seeing your puzzled look. “So why don’t we take a break, eh? It’s not as if Aegon will get hurt if we do.”

“Okay… but when do you want to go?”, you’d think this is typical of Aegon to party hard and have his siblings out for the weekend.

“Soon.”

“How soon? I didn’t bring my clothes, I am not prepared to do a long trip”, you protest.

Laena, also enjoying her champagne more than she’d like to admit, waves her hand dismissively.

“It’s no big deal. We are sisters. What is mine is yours.”

Little surprised you are that she has such an influence over you. When have you ever denied her anything?

Knowing this, Laena beams and hugs you.

“You are the best!”

***

Dressed in dark green robes, walking unaffectedly, Aemond spots you and Laena giggling. He sighs, wondering why on earth he’d agree with his sister’s plans on getting away of Aegon’s party.

But then again, he loves a great escape, doesn’t he? Often the dramatic, as their mother likes to snort about.

When seeing you, he cannot help but noticing your curves, taking some time in admiring your cleavage. Then something comes to his mind and Aemond is forced to look away, although he captures a blush painting your cheeks which pleases him very much.

“Well, ladies? Y/N, nice to see you again.” He nods at you.

You feel so suddenly disconcerted that all you can do is nod back. Helaena, not noticing what had just happened, jumps in his arms, thanking him many times for this adventure the three of you are about to have.

You are still processing his gaze, noticing his alluring presence, when he takes you to his very fancy car. As you slide to the back seat, behind Helaena’s, you seem to forget how to breath.

Bad, bad boy. Shiny toy with a price(…) Devils roll the dices, angels roll their eyes.

As soon as he starts driving, every sound dies when Helaena starts to snore. Aemond sees through the rear view that you are uncomfortable so he decides to break the ice.

“Is everything well there?”

You spot a smirk dancing in those lips. And you blame on the alcohol for picturing yourself on his lap and kissing him fervently.

You clear your throat so you focus. Aemond is slightly amused by your awkwardness.

“I… Yes, yes, it is. I was just overthinking. A bad tendency of mine, I suppose.”

“What is it that you are overthinking about?”, he inquires you, possibly aware of the cause of it and instigating you to speak it…

“It’s a silly reason. I don’t often take chances like this, traveling out of the blue, completely unprepared.”

If Aemond is disappointed with the answer, he doesn’t let it show. But he chuckles, though.

“There’s nothing wrong with planning if you don’t forget how to live your life.”

You tilt your head, detesting how easily you lock eyes with him.

“What’s living your life for you in this aspect?”

Aemond side smirks at you.

“For once, not letting others bossy me around.”

You laugh quietly.

“I don’t think you are easily bossed, Aemond.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“What exactly are your thoughts about me, Miss Y/N?”

“I see you so little that I couldn’t form my judgement of you, Aemond”, you smile at him. “Though I don’t think I can judge anyone at all.”

“Not even if they do bad things?”

“What bad things have you done?”

He seems to stay quiet for a while, watching regret rise to your eyes as you don’t like this silence that hangs between you two so suddenly.

“Some things are better left unsaid”, Aemond sort of justifies. “Look, we are here.”

As he carefully wakes Helaena and takes her inside, you struggle with balance as you leave the car. It’s three in the morning, and you wait as some lights are turned on by Aemond, watching as he carries his sister inside.

The house is a typical lake house, or so you think, comfortable and made of wood. The walls are painted in a light shade of green and you can tell that everywhere else is larger: there are trees surrounding you, a firepit, and boats. Yeah, definitely it’s a lake house.

“Are you staying there?”, you hear a voice calling you out.

Coming to the car to pack small bags is Aemond. You notice his hair is short.

“Did you cut your hair?”, you ask him.

He gives you an amused glance before helping leading you inside—since you are still under effect of alcohol.

“Yeah I did. Did you like it?”, he smiles at you when seeing you blush.

“Maybe”, you whisper, hoping he doesn’t listen.

But he does. Aemond finds you adorable.

“Thanks, princess. So…Here you are. You can stay at my mother’s room and use her clothes. Or I could get some of Laena’s for you.”

“Thank you for being so kind. Are you sure it’s okay if I wear something…?”

“Yeah. She likes you all right, she wouldn’t mind.” He could have added that Mrs Alicent hates his girlfriend, for example, but he doesn’t share this detail yet.

You nod, not realizing Aemond’s been studying you.

“Thank you once again”, you raise your eyes to smile at him.

Aemond’s taken aback by the innocence stamped in your features. No reason why you are friends with Laena, he thought.

“Anytime.” He nods his head and leaves, wishing to ignore that so suddenly a spark came uninvited.

You watch him go, disappointed. But turning to close the door, you move to the comfortable bed and drop asleep. All else is briefly forgotten.

For now.

***

What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more.

For a strange reason you are the first to wake up the next day. You look for a swim suit since the morning is apparently hot—no more a prelude to summer, but it in itself—, decided to have a go at the lake.

It’s a beautiful sight from Mrs Alicent’s quarters: when pulling away the curtains, you are in awe at the dark blue lake that runs deep, cut by houses that stand from two sides of the land. There are already boats on, children having fun and adults too. You smile as you hear the birds singing, it’s all so peaceful and inviting.

After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you opt for making yourself coffee when to your surprise Aemond is already preparing it.

“Up so early?!”, you cannot help yourself.

Aemond is shirtless this morning, only wearing pants. You struggle to keep yourself composed as your eyes scan his well build muscles.

Oh Lord.

It’s what you think, detesting to feel some ache in your feminine parts. But thankfully you are able to repress your impressions as he looks at you with an amused smirk displayed on his lips.

“Yes. A bad habit. I’m surprised you are up early. It’s not even nine o’clock yet”, with a move of his head he invites you to sit at the table that is behind him.

As you do so, you reply:

“I couldn’t set myself to sleep properly. I suppose it’s because I am not used to new beds.”

As he finishes cooking some eggs and preparing coffee, Aemond serves you breakfast.

“I can imagine. We did all so suddenly. But in honesty it’s for the best. Aegon’s parties are too much for us”, he tells you. “We only show up to greet guests and that’s it. After a couple of drinks he doesn’t notice us anymore.”

You frown at that.

“I’m sorry to hear that”, you say as you drink coffee.

Black coffee. The way you like it. You smile in content, a sight most pleasant to see. Aemond smiles back.

“Do you like black coffee too, uh? It’s perfect for me as well. But don’t be sorry. It is what it is. What about you? You are familiar with our dysfunctional family, but I know nothing of yours.”

You’d never think Aemond could be talkative if he so wanted. Turns out, however, you are the one who, when encouraged, speaks a lot. But he actually listens when you tell him about your divorced parents, how you ended up living with your grandparents, your profession, everything.

“I think I overshared, didn’t I?”, you think out loud, embarrassed.

“I don’t think you did”, he smiles at you, locking eyes with you again, giving you that same aching you feel obliged to repress. “I’m protective to Helaena and I lament I had no opportunity to get to know her best friend better.”

You tilt your head with a gentle smile on your face.

“So am I a suitable companion for her?”

He is still watching you intently when he says:

“Of course you are, Y/N. Now let’s get you to the lake.”

How the hell are you on his back and holding him tight like a monkey? You don’t know how easily he convinced you doing that, but here you are. Holding your legs, Aemond runs to the lake and…

SPLASH.

You are both under the cold water. But you are still holding onto him as you laugh out loud.

“You are crazy!”

He turns his head lightly so he can match your gaze. A smile is on his lips when he says:

“Am I?”

“The lake seems too deep for me!”, you justify for remaining locked onto his back.

Aemond raises an eyebrow, not minding at all that you are there—he knows he should, but he likes to feel your warmth against him, his fingertips still caressing your thighs.

“It’s completely safe though”, says he, unwilling to let go of you. “Hold on tight, monkey. I’ll take you to the other side of the lake.”

It’s a fun morning for both of you. Staying like this so close, only reluctantly you part to dive in these blue waters, ignoring his lustful gaze at your curves, he hates how easily such thoughts occur him.

And worst. It’s not only about carnal, but when you two speak, it is as if everything is connected. A sentiment, he perceives, so evident in your y/c eyes.

But the moment is briefly gone when Helaena shows up at the window and yells:

“How naughty of you for not waiting for me!”

***

These first days end up in a first week. Every morning you and Aemond leave your beds early to swim together. Every morning, a new intimacy seems to flow.

But it’s only when sun rises slowly in the first hours that you two can spend some time together by yourselves…or when Helaena is the first to retire after a long day.

In late nights, you two watch movies, share a beer and thoughts. But when it becomes too unbearable to keep away this tension between one another. Something happens.

A bell rings.

“Can you open the door, please?”, Aemond asks you as he’s preparing your favorite breakfast. He’s all smiley today, completely forgetful of the consequence of his getaway.

“Of course”, you smile too, sensing his eyes on you as you are dressing shorts today a blue bikini on top.

But when you open the door, you don’t find Aegon or any Targaryen relative on the other side. Instead a taller, dark-haired sensual woman looks you up and down, making you feel embarrassed of yourself.

“H-Hello”, you try not to forget your manners. “Good morning. May I help him?”

“Is Aemond Targaryen here?”, she asks you cooly.

You try to act in a nonchalant manner as you are under those judging eyes.

“He is. I’m sorry, but who are you?”

“Oh”, the older woman seems pleased to find you in ignorance. “He hasn’t had the grace to tell you about me? I’m Alys Rivers, his girlfriend.”

***

So cut the headlights, summer’s a knife. (…) It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got.

You are sitting in front of the firepit eating your marshmallow as you consider the last events. In a matter of thirty days, your mind has been fed with what you now realize to be an illusion.

You fell for his smile, desired his body, admired his wit. You felt heard and seen for the first time in your life. You thought that he encouraged you in holding him tight, smelling his scent when you dived in together… or when you danced after getting drunk with a couple of beers.

Now these memories are poisoned with the fact he fooled you. How cruel. But you should know better, bad boys don’t like good girls.

Tears raise to your eyes, but you swallow them. You don’t see Helaena coming to your side. The two of you stay silent until she breaks it.

“I’m sorry, Y/Nickname.”

“Why are you feeling sorry for, my dear?”, you ask her, confused.

“Because I didn’t tell you he’s been taken. But honestly I was surprised he accepted my crazy idea of spending some weeks of this summer break without his girlfriend. No one likes her, really. She’s crazy.”

You smile at her attempts to cheer you up.

“It’s okay. I understand, truthfully.”

“You’d be a better girlfriend, though”, she smiles back, giggling when seeing a weak blush painting your cheeks. “It’s true. Mama loves you, and no one else is diplomatic like you.”

You scoff at her. A different aching has your heart breaking.

“Helaena, my honey. Don’t get yourself delusional. It does us little good. But I appreciate it though. Truthfully.”

Though your words aim to a self protection, you need a comfortable embrace and Helaena, knowing you, promptly gives it to you. You two stay like this for a while until she says:

“There is a party going on at the neighbor’s.”

You look up at her and say:

“I thought you didn’t like these kind of parties.”

“Aegon’s parties”, she corrects you, pleased to make you smile. “Come on. It can be fun.”

You wish you had an arguments to say no, but seeing Helaena is actually excited to go to the neighbor’s party, you decide to join her. After changing clothes—you dress a white top and a black skirt with red high heels; and Laena is dressing a short dress—you finally go to the party, pleased that at least with Aemond and Alys gone, you’d not have to see them again.

***

I’m drunk in the back of the car. And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar. Said “I’m fine”, but it wasn’t true.

When seeing Laena having a great time with the said neighbor, a handsome lad named Jacaerys, you raise your eyebrows at her insistence in going there. You laugh to yourself, letting her having her fun all the while you look for yours.

You grab one and then another beer. Losing track of time, you prefer to dance like crazy at the gardens. All of this and you don’t see him crossing the limits that separate Jacaerys’s gardens to the Targaryens’s ones. You don’t see him rushing after you, face carefully in check.

You don’t know his desperate thoughts. Couldn’t even think he’s realized a little too late that you captured his heart, taking as he is, never indulging in his bad boy fame or expecting him to be better.

And here he is. Aware he has your heart broken, by never being honest with you about his connection with that woman that is now his ex, he comes to pursuit you.

“Y/Nickname”, his husky voice comes at you.

And you freeze as you turn around only to watch him standing in front of you.

“Aemond”, you avoid his gaze.

“There are so many things to be said. I should have told you I was in a relationship”, he says urgently, trying to take your hands but he is hurt when you give a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was trying to run from her and…”

But you are not listening. You take a long sip of the beer and decide to go back home. Aemond, however, is not a quitter.

“Y/N!” He then holds your arm, making you look at him. “I’m sorry. What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”

I don’t wanna keep secrets to keep you. (…) And I screamed for whatever it’s worth “I love you”. Ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

“I hate you”, and for the very first time you burst in tears. “Leave me alone.”

“No. I won’t”, he is firm on that. “I love you.”

“It’s a little too late for that”, you suddenly realize you two have snuck in the gardens of Aemond’s parents’ summer household.

But he’s too close to you now. Aemond’s eyes are so expressive and when you find his blue ones…

“You don’t love me”, you accuse him, heart racing.

“I do. I fucking love you, Y/N Y/LN. I left everything to be with you, to fix my damned mistakes”, he cups your face and you spot some tears in his eyes. “In losing me, I found you.”

You know he’s being sincere. He is the devil and you are the angel. But then what? You love him regardless.

***

His lips taste so good, his tongue sliding into your mouth makes you shiver. There is drunkness and sobriety in one kiss, mixed all the way. But neither seems to mind.

You are now at the couch, hands quickly removing his shirt, your nails ensuring to leave your mark in his skin.

“Goodness me, woman!”, he groans, aroused. “Never took you as a possessive one.”

You smirk at him, but there is little time to answer as his mouth dives into your neck, pulling gently your hair as his hand slides to your sides. Finally he parts, breathlessly so, as he lifts your shirt and helps removing your skirt.

The way he watches you makes you dripping wet.

“You are so mine”, says Aemond in the kind of authority voice that accepts no otherwise.

“That I am, sir”, you kiss his lips passionately, your hands going to his pants and there working out with his rigid manhood. “As much as you are mine.”

Your mind, however, goes blank the moment he begins to play with your breasts. You moan hotly in his ear, trying to focus, but damn it’s so difficult.

“My dear Y/N”, he moans your name in such a way.

It’s been a cruel summer, indeed, when every teasing has not prepared for its consummation. And now he has you under his command, lifting your legs to stay in between, playing with your feminine parts as his mouth takes a long time in each nipple, making you moan louder and louder.

“So wet for me”, he groans against your skin, pleased to be responsible for your yearnings. “Fuck!”

He lifts his face to contemplate yours all the whilst preparing to slide his manhood into you. Locking your hands above your head, he smirks down at you.

“I corrupted you, my sweet angel”, Aemond bites down your lips. He now spots some bruises showing on your skin.

“I redeem you”, you say softly.

He smiles at you.

“My savior”, he leans to kiss you slowly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And thus the night is the only witness of how one surrenders to the other in endless making love.

***

Epilogue.

It’s that family barbecue. Aemond watches as you interact with his relatives, a proud side smirk on his display.

“Finally you got rid of that woman”, he listens to Alicent’s pleased sigh. “I always knew Y/N was the right one for the family.”

“For me, mother. For me”, the silver haired male corrects her arrogantly. “She’s my future wife.”

Alicent beams at his son.

“Does she know?”

Unconsciously you turn your head and flash him a big smile. You love his family, but you love him more. Aemond doesn’t resist staying away from you. He just winks at his mother before going at you.

Snaking his arms around your waist, he rests his chin over your shoulder and side eyes at you.

“What?”, you tell him in between giggles as you sense his stare.

“Be my wife”, he blurts out.

Your jaw drops, not really expecting that. But there’s no need to think twice.

“Yes, of course.”

And then you two live happily ever after.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #Aemond Targaryen smut #Aemond Targaryen modern #modern world #Taylor swift #cruel summer

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kazoozu · 1 month

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My Terukane analysis after chapter 112 because I’m currently dying

The first thing you notice when Teru shows up the the panel we don’t see him entering the room we just see him locking the door. He has a look on his face the makes it seem like he’s reminiscing on something he’d done in the past or in their ‘previous world’

Akane shows no sign of hatred or sadness. In fact he seems fine with what’s happened or at least he’s trying to see a happier side of what’s going on. Also in this scene after Teru punched Akane his face immediately changed expressions.

He went from a solemn look to one of anger or rather nothing. Something devoid of feeling, even with a frown on his face he’s unwilling to show sadness, letting Akane know that he won’t go the easy way out of this like Nene would.

From his reaction you can also make drawbacks to his fight with kou. I’m both scenes at first he was shocked and upset but again in both he knew he was the only one who could fix things. So used to working on his own and being respected by all its now his duty to solve everything

Teru doesn’t have time for emotions because throughout his whole life he’s been told being an exorcist is what he must do. He can’t be normal, he can’t have fun, he can’t be upset about things because it’ll get in the way of the role he was given but this idealistic view breaks…

The easiest way for him to deal with these feelings is to distance himself from others. Showing them he doesn’t care means he no longer has to worry that they care. He won’t have to be stuck with these feelings if he knows they won’t matter to his friends and family.

Even when he says these things there’s always a sort of pained expression on his face that’s often obscured by either a body part or a dark shadow cast onto him. He doesn’t want to say these things but what more can he do in a situation where he doesn’t know himself how to react.

Anyway back onto the actual chapter when Akane heard Teru say “You really let me down, Aoi” that’s what got to him. Teru didn’t refer to him as clock keeper like in his previous sentence. This was directed at Akane for Akane to hear. Akane, had disappointed him.

Hearing Teru say his name in such a way left him unsure of what to say. Although he believed that the clock keepers were right in their actions he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret at his choice.

Although he helped save the school he disappointed the one person he could truly be himself with. He wanted so dearly to believe what he chose was right but with that right choice he lost someone he truly trusted.

For Teru hearing their past future will soon be nothing but a memory really was too much. Maybe he couldn’t physically have fun with them but not even having the chance for those memories to say real was something he couldn’t accept.

Hearing Akane could so easily forget everything they did together was such a shock it was almost laughable. For Teru his time with Aoi, Akane, Kou and Nene was one he could never forget, one he was truly grateful for.

Growing up he’d never had the chance to play with friends, eat pizza, talk about himself and sing karaoke but thanks to them he got to experience the things he never got to do as a kid as well as ‘help’ his brother on his first date.

Akane expecting him to just forget them is crazy to him. Even mentioning that Teru would enjoy a world like this might as well have shown they never knew each other at all.

Teru couldn’t understand how Akane could so easily let go and Akane couldn’t understand how such a small thing as a world bound for destruction could mean so much to Teru.

Anyway Terukane real enjoy my edit (I’m gonna cry)

#tbhk #tbhk manga #jshk #jshk spoilers #teru minamoto #kou minamoto #yashiro nene #akane aoi

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marimoscorner · 5 days

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A Witch’s Hearth: Finding Home in Nature

In our Disconnected, Urban World

Written by Autumn (she/her) 🍁

To most witches, pagans and druids, the nature around us is as much of a home as our own domiciles. It’s healing to go out to an old growth forest, to bathe in the wisdom of beings who lived before you and will likely still stand tall when you are amidst their soil.

However, not everyone has immediate access to the lovely blessing of a deep forest.

I myself recently moved from the deep, lush forests of the PNW to just about as far south as I could go in my car, chasing the light that I need to function. The move has helped with my daily functions and mental health, yes—but I have been left feeling a bit lost without the forests of home.

Join me as I plan some ways in which I can adapt anew to the nature around my new home, how I may incorporate it in my magic, and how I may carve out a new spiritual hearth for myself.

Perhaps this can help inspire folks to tackle their own homesickness with nature, and to reconnect with the world in which they live (whether or not they’ve made a move).

Once again, please take this with a grain of salt—as this is just from my own experiences. I am not a teacher, I am simply recording my thoughts in the hopes to add my voice to the pot. With that, let’s begin! 🌿

A Deep Homesickness

This photo is one my partner took at our engagement up in WA, right before we ran into a bear

The above photo is how I think of home. The deep green of the forest, the blue of the mountains on the horizon. Moss on just about every surface. The rich dirt that sustained it all. Were it not rainy and dark most of the year, I wouldn’t have left.

Now, I find home in a biome all its own. I’m living deeper into a city than I ever have, and I’m feeling isolated from nature. While the beach is close by, any deep woods that remind me of the edges of the wilderness up north are at the very least two to three hours away by car.

Though I have a hard time remembering this, it is not a bad change. Any plant that is uprooted from the earth it’s known its whole life is bound to feel a bit uncomfortable. But perhaps it can flourish if moved to soil better suited for its intrinsic needs.

Though my experience includes a physical move, this can apply to a homesickness you feel due to a simple displacement of nature in this society. Perhaps you aren’t seeing enough nature, or aren’t able to connect with what’s around you.

Let’s forge ahead to tackle this feeling of loneliness head on!

Finding Similarities

This is a photo I took at a hike about 2.5 hrs out of the way down here. Though without as many trees, it felt much more familiar and was beautiful in its own right

In our modern society, we’re left with a longing to return to nature—to our home. You may find yourself longing for a specific kind of view. Perhaps you’re looking for prominence of a particular element—like a roaring river to enact water or plenty of clover to help you feel the earth. The following is a list of steps to tackle this:

Make a list of things you want to see or things that would help you feel at home in nature. Think of your dream location when it comes to the outdoors. What does it look like? What features does it have? How do you feel?

Go online and find trails nearby with as similar to these features as possible. AllTrails has the ability to search for trails with waterfalls, forests, wildflowers, wildlife, etc. for free. Make good use of the wonderful web of resources provided to us.

Make an effort to connect with nature at least once a month, if you can. Be sure to pack for safety—and take a nice hike, or sit under an old tree and journal in your grimoire. Ground yourself and notice the seasons around you

In this way, you’ll help your soul settle and feel comfortable, which will help with our next steps.

Bring a Piece of Nature Home

Here’s one of my cats, Pagan, enjoying our newest garden box arrangement. I’m so proud of how far she’s come since we rescued this tiny baby

Many times, it’s near impossible to find the time in our busy lives during the week to go deep into nature. Thus, we need to take this connection into our own hands, and build our own miniature wild sanctuary.

NOTE: Do not remove plants or creatures from nature. They are there for a reason.

Take inventory of your available space. Is this your entire patio? A shelf? A portion of your altar? A garden box? A whole backyard? Take measurements so you can better plan

Remember your list of natural things you enjoy. Brainstorm some ways to include them in this space. It could be a photo or painting of your dream location. It could also be an actual plant for a tiny breath of fresh air. If you have the space, you could plant a whole garden! It is whatever matters most to you. Try and incorporate your local biome to help enmesh the two worlds, if they are different.

Thrift and shop around to fulfill the needs of this space. The more you can get secondhand or from smaller businesses in your community, the better. You may even be able to ask your neighbors or friends with impressive plants for a cutting to propagate!

Consider the safety of any children or animals in your life. A lot of plants and flowers can be toxic to certain creatures. Utilize the web to determine what is safe for your situation.

Set up your space and enjoy! You may utilize spells or ritual to fully enact the space and help it to feel more magical, but it is really your choice.

For my family, we live in an apartment. We haven’t had a backyard in years. Still, we’ve found way to turn our patio into a spot of natural respite. We utilize a tiered planter in order to make the most of our patio space. Though we’ve included small flowers that remind us of our old home, we’ve embraced the biome we’re currently in and have an entire row of beautiful succulents. Of course, we also added catnip for our babies, and herbs for our kitchen witchcraft. We also put down these outdoor tiles from IKEA that mimic a lawn and wooden patio. On our table, we’ve put a hummingbird feeder to help better support local wildlife, and are discussing an actual bird feeder.

Embracing the Nature Around You

A photo I took of a playful wild crow. He was an excellent little model!

This is a step I still need to complete myself. When biomes don’t match up with how you picture nature in your craft, it can be frustrating! Especially if you’re in a fairly urban area, you may not have much access or choice in which nature you interact with.

Here’s the good thing, though: it’s all nature, regardless of how it shows up in the world.

Start researching your local biomes. Take account of your local parks and community gardens. Study the history of the land that you’re on, and how it played into the lives of the people that it truly belongs to (of course, do not culturally appropriate. This should go without saying). Explore native biodiversity. Find volunteer programs at local organic farms. Visit a farmer’s market. The list of possibilities goes on.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed or don’t know where to start, this is how I’ll be organizing my journey through this step:

Make a list of natural sights in your area that are easily accessible to you. I’m talking within a 30 minute drive or closer level of close. These don’t need to match up perfectly with your perception of nature—you may be pleasantly surprised in what you find when you open yourself up. This could include: parks, hiking trails, state parks, plant nurseries or shops, local/community gardens, farms that allow for visitors, farmer’s markets, local watersheds that allow for visitors, etc.

Visit these locations safely, documenting what you find beautiful and/or spiritual in each one. List aspects of local nature and how that could make an impact if you were to include them in your craft

Create a mini encyclopedia of local spots that you end up loving for days where you’re feeling disconnected and need a quick pick-me-up. You might even create a jar full of folded papers to pick them at random.

Increase the amount of local natural elements that you include in your craft instead of/alongside elements of your idealized natural space. You may find this area around you feeling more like a home or hearth than you ever have before.

Once you start practicing awareness in nature more and more, you’ll start to notice it in more places. This can not only help with your connection to your location, but can help you build your magical hearth in the energy around you.

Giving Back

This is a photo I took at the San Diego Zoo of a weaver finch building its nest

Nature takes care of us, even when we’re detached from it in our cities. We need to take care of it in turn. If you have the means, find some way to give back to the nature around you if you so wish. Here are some ideas:

Give back to the plants with your energy, or make an offering of compost to replenish the soil

Purchase a Membership at a local zoo or aquarium that prioritizes conservation. This way you get to visit, too, while giving back! I love having memberships because I know on each visit I can really take my time and don’t have to rush about.

Volunteer to help reforest, or to help plant at a local garden. This can even be done by donation if you do not have the access or ability to physically participate

Consider giving homegrown herbs/plants to family and friends—or prepare them to help feed those in your community, if you have the means to donate

Teach others in your community how to properly dispose of waste and how they can help keep our natural beauty alive

Simply compost and recycle when the option is available to you

Etc. There is no one right way to do any of this! Just with your intent, you make your community a better place. Thank you for being in it

Thank you for taking the time to read through my little magical journal and ideas. Even if we don’t fully align, I hope that our paths crossing has contributed to even a slight net-positive in your day. I look forward to writing again soon.

#pagan #pagan witch #paganism #witchblr #witchcraft #druidry #druid #nature

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meyousing · 1 year

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𝓥𝓲𝓮𝓰𝓸, 𝓥𝓸𝔀𝓼 𝓐𝓻𝓮 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷

𝓻𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓽: viego + prompt 6 “I’m not going to leave you, and you’re not going to leave me either.” + prompt 16 “i’ll destroy anyone that gets in my way, anyone that tries to get in between us.”

𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: senna and lucian were able to save you from viego’s captivity and keep you safe, far away from him. but a world that would rob viego of beauty is a world that deserves destruction.

𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼: yandere viego x reader, brief nsfw, kidnapping, manipulation, murderous implications, possessive viego (aka normal viego lol)

“Lucian forgot to buy honey the last time he went out, hope you don’t mind” Senna shot you an apologetic look as she slid your mug across the table, the dark tea inside sloshing over the edge from the motion. She cursed at the sight and you thanked her quietly, letting the porcelain’s warmth thaw out your frigid fingers. Shaking off the cold of the Shadow Isles proved to be a tough feat, so as long as your tea was piping hot, you didn’t mind it lacking any sweetener.

You watched Senna grab a cloth and drag it over the spill, a chill jolting you simultaneously, goosebumps flooding over the expanse of your skin. You couldn’t help but look over to the window as if this chill was caused by an external force; from out there, and not the easily explained reaction of your freezing palms coming into fast contact with the heat of your beverage.

Your nerves were at an all-time high, but could anyone really blame you? This was the first time that you were anywhere near free in a long time. When Viego decided that you were his, that you would be his queen and bound you to his side, your freedom was instantly stripped away. The only daylight you were permitted to see or fresh air you were allowed to breathe was what you could glean from the castle windows, and the only alone time you ever had was to use the bathroom, albeit time that was limited since he would begin calling you back to him if he felt that you were taking too long, rushing you. Other than that, you were always glued to Viego’s hip. Senna and Lucian rescuing you was nothing short of a miracle that required extremely hard work and months of planning. You were so grateful that it worked out, feeling eternally indebted to the couple. You had expressed this to Senna but she would always brush you off, saying that you owed her nothing for simply returning your freedom.

Your eyes were still fixed on the window, but not really seeing beyond it. You observed the scenic, bustling street and the shining rays of the sun, the gentle rustling of the front garden’s flowers as if they were all a picture; as if they would be flat to the touch if you reached out. As if they weren’t real. Was anything real beyond four walls? Despite the immense gratitude you continued to feel towards Senna and Lucian, you knew that it would be a very long time before they would let you leave the house or be seen outdoors by yourself, for your safety, because Viego has eyes everywhere, they would tell you. By that logic, you couldn’t help but wonder… were you really free after all? How could you be free if you still weren’t allowed to stand within those bustling streets, or to bask in the shining sun’s rays and smell the flowers' sweet scents? If Viego had eyes everywhere, did he know where you were right now? Was this even worth it?

You had begun to space out as these questions plagued you, the view of the outdoors not soothing you much despite how unchanging it was, which should have done nothing but reassure you; made you think that you had all the time in the world to experience nature if it remained the same for so long.

But then the scene did change. A figure deviated from the crowd in the street, adjacent to everyone else who was hurriedly on their way to a destination far away from this address. Being preoccupied with your thoughts caused your eyesight to blur, you were unable to make out who this figure could be as the sight became larger and larger; they were coming closer.

Did Viego find you already?!

A jingling sound was muffled from outside, you blinked rapidly to try and desperately clear your vision, whipping your head to the doorknob to watch the lock turn.

He was coming in. He had a key.

A creak chimed out, the once dimly lit dining room now much more illuminated from the sun as the door opened and revealed Viego’s silhouette to you in all of his glory. You felt stuck outside of your body, paralyzed and only able to utter incoherent sounds equivalent to small gasps for air. He stopped moving in once he had breached the doorway, looking over at you. Your sight was still impaired, but with a few more blinks and shakes of the head you cleared it quite quickly, and your heart dropped in relief.

“You okay?” Lucian asked, his eyes mirroring yours when they widened. His eyebrows raised as he kicked the door closed behind him, his arms too full of shopping bags to do it instead. Now that the sunlight was gone and the regular lighting of the room was restored, you could see him much better. It was just Lucian.

Right. How could you forget Senna mentioning that Lucian wasn’t here when you woke up because he went back out to grab items he forgot from his last shopping trip… such as that aforementioned honey? It was as if your remembrance of her words had summoned her, she was at your side right after Lucian spoke, gently taking your shoulder and watching you with concern. The pressure of their conjoined stares made your cheeks burn in the embarrassment of your mistake. Not to mention how you never liked being the centre of attention; something that made the obsessed spotlight that Viego cast upon you feel that much worse.

“I am, I’m fine. Sorry.” You didn’t feel the need to explain yourself because, above all else, Senna and Lucian were two of the most understanding people you had ever met. Their patience for you was unmatched, you were well aware that they appreciated your situation and didn’t expect you to elaborate when you didn’t feel the desire to. You were sure that they knew what had happened just now anyway, their expressions becoming cognizant rather quickly following your silence.

Senna patted you before walking over to take a bag from Lucian, hauling it to the counter so she could begin unloading its contents. You watched her and sipped at your tea now that it had cooled down a bit, the mundane task that she was carrying out bringing you comfort from its regularity.

“Did you get more honey?” she asked, having finished her chore faster than you could register when the now empty paper bag tipped over on the counter, and she turned to rest her back against the edge of the surface, arms crossing over her chest while she glanced at Lucian. You followed her eyes, watching Lucian place the other bag next to himself on the ground so he could lean down and slip his shoes off with free hands.

“Did I get more of what?” he responded nonchalantly, not bothering to look up as he did. That caused him to miss the instant droop of Senna’s expression which you were happy to have witnessed, stifling a laugh from the interaction.

Consolation began filling you at the sight of such a silly exchange; as you realized that you really were okay. You knew that everything happening to you right now did so for a reason. You were going to have to stay inside the couple’s home for a little while longer if you wanted any future freedom at all, and that was okay. They were willing to protect you for as long as they had to, and you just knew that they would save you once more if a time ever came when Viego did find you again. Of course, you also knew (no, you didn’t actually know. But you dearly hoped) that Viego never would be able to find you again. Besides, if they were able to save you from him in the first place, then he didn’t do a good enough job of keeping you away.

Feeling so comforted, so protected, you decided that today was going to be the first of many when you would finally live for yourself. This was the first time that you were anywhere near independent in a long time. Why not start making the most of it? Chugging down the last of your tea, you stood abruptly, chair screeching as the force of your movement pushed it back on the wood floor. The duo looked at you at the same time, Lucian now upright and jumping slightly at the sound of your empty teacup slamming down onto the table (you mumbled an apology, not meaning to be so rough with their possessions).

“Let’s do something fun. Do either of you have plans?” You placed your hands on your hips, taking on a strong stance to show off just how strong you were after everything you had dealt with thus far.

“None aside from watching over you” Senna shrugged. Lucian nodded his agreement, waiting for you to continue. With a deep breath and a smile, you did.

“We are going to bake some treats. I’ll even teach you some recipes from my homeland! Did you happen to buy any jam?” you turned to Lucian, joining your hands with index fingers pointed at him, ever-focused. He perked up, seemingly delighted at your sudden liveliness. Senna must have felt the same, this was the biggest show of enthusiasm that you had to offer since getting here.

“I don’t remember buying any… but we probably have some here already!” Lucian returned your smile, slipping past Senna to the refrigerator so he could check, careening the door open quickly and creating a cracking sound which caused Senna to scold him and roll her eyes at his sheepishly mumbled apology. A moment passed before his hand raised, showing off a half-full jar of strawberry jam. You shimmied in delight, listening to Senna’s warm chuckle at your reaction.

“What else, captain?” she asked, more than glad to entertain your newfound ardour as she opened a drawer containing various baking utensils, like patterned rolling pins and spatulas. Sparkles formed in your eyes at the sight, the prospect of making delicious, fragrant pastries already making your mouth water and your excitement become unbearable if you were to dally any longer.

You were finally reminded of what it could feel like to be home.

–

With droopy eyes, you wiped some sticky jam off of your cheek as you swallowed the final bite of your cookie, feeling drowsy and content from such a long day full of baking and devouring delicacies.

“I almost forgot how good these are, I haven't had one in years…let alone the entire plate, sorry” you chuckled shamefully, slumping further into the couch as Lucian picked your crumb-littered plate up from the coffee table. Could they really blame you for eating every last one? you haven’t had these cookies in years because there was almost nothing in the Shadow Isles, aside from remnants of some alcohol and limited foods Viego brought you from a long time ago in Camavor, food that was far past the point of decay. Indulgence never happened for you anymore.

“I’ll remember the recipe” Lucian grinned before turning to bring the dish to the kitchen, and you let your eyes close peacefully when the sound of the sink’s running water began. You were only able to doze for a moment, a gentle nudge to your arm stopped you from getting too comfortable just yet. You peered an eye open to see Senna standing over you.

“Why don’t you lay down in bed? We’ll clean up, go get some rest somewhere more comfortable.”

Good idea you thought. Senna was always full of great ideas. She also blinked at you, mildly perplexed as to why you had yet to respond. Oh, you hadn’t said that out loud!

“Good idea” you repeated with the evidence of your fatigue much too clear as you ran a hand over your face and stood on wobbly legs. Senna gave you a sympathetic smirk, classically understanding what just happened as she said nothing else and went to join Lucian in the kitchen, leaving you to your own devices for the night. It really was unfortunate that the activities of the day had worn you out so quickly, you would have loved to spend more time with the two, but you also knew that catching up on rest was equally as important, if not more. At least the small dose of caffeine in the tea from earlier had given you enough energy for baking at all, and what pleasant memories you were able to make as a result!

Upon arriving at your room, you closed the door behind you, domestic sounds of the post-baking cleanup now muffled to your ears as you trudged to your bed with heavy steps. You had decided to stay cozy today, having already worn a nightgown since the morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t let yourself rest just yet within these pyjamas, because they were now covered in flour and stained with small flecks of jam.

Worth it, you told yourself as your eyes fell shut, feeling too sleepy to keep them open a moment longer even as you unbuttoned your gown and let it fall to your feet. Stepping out of it, you decided to take the lazier route tonight, leaving it on the floor rather than placing it in the hamper as you moved to search your drawer for a new one. I’ll clean my room tomorrow morning.

Being left in your undergarments as you blindly felt around in your drawer, the room felt much colder, naturally. Though it was bizarrely cold, the temperature today had not been low enough for you to be reasonably feeling goosebumps rise on your skin right now. With some restraint, your eyes opened and your hands stopped moving. You began scanning around your room, feeling slightly unnerved. What exactly were you looking for, anyway? Maybe your room just felt chillier because it was on the second floor, it took longer for the heat to get up here… right? Just as your chin met with your shoulder and you could see what was directly behind you, a sigh of solace passed your lips.

Your window was open.

Now everything made so much more sense! Regarding the temperature drop, at least. While you couldn’t recall opening your window at any point this morning, you also didn’t want to think too much or for too long about it, scurrying over to close it and warm yourself up once and for all; to be rid of the constant chills that kept running marathons on your flesh today. Reaching up above your head, your fingertips met with the lift and you wasted no time in pulling it down.

As the window closed with a resounding thud, freezing-cold hands grabbed your hips from behind.

Paralysis was imminent, your last motion being the removal of your own hands from the window, unable to move them anymore once they fell back to your sides. Perhaps if you had kept your eyes open when you got here, you’d have noticed the lingering black mist submerging the floor.

“My love,” his voice was trembly, breath frigid on your neck as you felt him push his front against your back, bodies glued together once again, like all of those times before.

Viego found you.

You tried to say his name, but you couldn’t find your voice. You wanted to acknowledge him, get a response, and ensure that you were not dreaming and this was real.

Another thing that you regretfully noticed and solidified how real this was, was that he was hard, slowly rutting his hips against your ass and gradually pressing you further and further against the wall, your cheek squishing into the glass of the window. You already felt utterly violated, so exposed in the minimal clothing you wore and the lewd movements Viego made against you. This lasted only for a moment, but of course, it wasn't over; he flipped you around so he could stand between your legs, to grind against your clothed pussy and move his hands to your face, holding your cheeks with earnest, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the room as they bore into yours.

The friction of his cock against you had started to numb your body, thighs beginning to tremble as you swallowed hard and grabbed at his forearms. As if that clutch could manage to give you any kind of control over this, something you never had with him.

“How did you find me?” you managed to get out with a voice that was almost inaudible, but your words never went unnoticed by Viego even when you tried, no matter how quiet.

“It wasn’t difficult.” His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his eyes following the motion, a quiet whimper sounding in his throat. “Our souls are bound, we will never be truly separated forever.” He was so close. You felt his lips brush against yours with every word he spoke, heat rushing to your face and a familiar feeling stirring inside of you. You had to distract yourself, to think of something else. This could not escalate any further if you wanted to have any kind of power here at all. Viego knew your every weakness.

“A-are you going to take me back to the Shadow Isles?” you asked quickly despite the stutter, and as your voice broke when you spoke the word shadow, Viego’s eyebrows met in concern. His motions ceased, though he remained impossibly close to you. You really didn’t like how calm he seemed. Any time you acted out of line he would lose his mind, giving you punishments that he claimed hurt his heart to inflict but that it was entirely your fault. His display of the polar opposite reaction to your misbehaviour was something to be afraid of, and that you were. You couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to get here undetected, even with the proof of his mist filling your room. But then a horrifying thought came to you.

“What did you do to Lucian and Senna?!”

Viego shushed you too swiftly after you spoke, soothingly dragging his thumb from your cheek to your lips, pressing on the bottom one as he put his forehead against yours.

“What they did is unforgivable, condemnable. How dare they take what is mine?!” His eyes screwed shut in anger and his thumb pushed in a little harder, but not painfully. You noticed that he must have been trying to stay quiet, his words were malicious and enraged but his volume was just barely above a whisper. He took a deep breath before continuing. “One thing I noticed was that you were not scared. You were not upset with them for the atrocity they committed. As much as I wanted to make them one with the mist, I did not want to be the cause of your upset once more.”

This caused your brain to stop. If you heard correctly and were not relying on wishful thinking, Viego was admitting how he was… aware? Aware of how much grief he caused you in the past, of how any time he thought he was making the right decision for your sake, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“If you come back with me now, they will be spared. We will leave now, leave no trace.” He looked into your eyes, hopeful.

You weren’t dumb enough to think that the chances of living a life free from Viego were guaranteed. You were hopeful too though, hopeful that you could have had a bit more time. Two days were not enough. The closest you got to enjoying the fresh air and sunlight was during the walk from the wagon into the house on your first day here: ten seconds, if not less. Before you could stop yourself, a small sob wracked you, tears forming in your eyes as you stifled a whimper. Viego looked like he had a heart attack when you did, quickly pulling your head to his shoulder and embracing you tightly.

“Shh, do not cry. I will keep you safe from now on. I’m not going to leave you, and you’re not going to leave me either. Never again.” He cooed these words into your ear, his tone awfully sultry as he stroked your hair and squeezed you close. All they did was make you feel worse, a full cry leaving your lips as his caresses suffocated you, his body on yours (that was still so naked in comparison) making you feel immensely claustrophobic between him and the wall.

He continued on with soothing you, ineffectively at that. You couldn’t handle anymore, inhaling shakily as you started to resist, trying to push him off of you and create some space between yourselves. For a moment you thought that you had succeeded, as he pulled away and placed both his hands on the sides of your head, fingers weaving through your hair in pause.

Then, after grabbing fistfuls of your hair, he leaned in and kissed you, hard.

If suffocation was a mere phantom sensation before, it was full-on now. He smothered you so intensely and so vigorously that you forgot to breathe, whining into his mouth as you grabbed onto the collar of his jacket for some kind of grounding, dizzying stars appearing behind your eyelids. The rise and fall of your chest became brisk against him, you truly began to worry that he would kiss you to unconsciousness. His eventual pulling away was slow, something you would consider romantic or passionate if this were any other scenario, but the sharp inhale you took through your mouth right after was a definite mood killer. Well, it would have been to anyone else. It seemed you could do no wrong in Viego’s eyes.

“As saccharine as honey,” he whispered, tone low and sweet like the very substance he mentioned; one you regretted not asking for in your tea this morning because a return to the Shadow Isles meant no sustenance or special treats like that ever again. The thought of returning to that dull, prison-like lifestyle sent more tears to your waterlines, which soon streamed down your face. Viego watched them fall, grimacing.

“Your tears induce my own” he spoke brokenly, thumbing at your cheeks with the utmost precision until they were dry beneath his touch.

“I’m so much happier here than with you” you managed to sputter out amidst your snivelling, already knowing what damage those words could induce but still needing to speak your piece either way. Viego seemed legitimately frozen after registering what you said, his movements ceasing slowly.

“I gave you everything. All that I do is for you.” He looked down, contemplative. “How much happier could you possibly be here than with me?”

“I’ve never wanted even half of what you’ve done for me, Viego” you cried, trying not to let the way he looked up at you shatter your heart when you saw how sad his eyes were. Instead, you tried to interpret his expression in a different way… in a way that proved you were getting through to him and felt encouraged to push the limits. “Please, just let me stay here. It’s what’s best for both of us.” You tried shoving at his chest to create some space between yourselves once more, and to your shock, he moved back a step from the force. You shivered from the sudden separation, hardly realizing how much warmth his usually frigid body managed to provide to yours with how bare it was as of now. He was certainly in his own state of shock from your words, even a “heart” as cold and dead as his could feel a pang of hurt from the ugly truth.

You took advantage of his reaction and used the surprise that you felt as adrenaline to get moving. With eyes blown wide and completely focused on him, you began to step away and past him, intent on slowly walking to the bedroom door and throwing it open before making a full run for it, so you could alert Senna of what was going on and be saved from whatever future Viego intended for you.

You only made it a couple of feet away before he spoke.

“Until you return to my arms, all will be brought to ruin.”

You paused, dreadfully looking at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you the same way, his back still visible to you but his eyes piercing.

“I will not lose you again. I will destroy anyone that gets in my way, anyone that tries to get in between us.” He turned to you fully, making your breath hitch as the room started to feel a lot stuffier, the black mist thickening immensely. He approached you through the fog, taking long strides that you tried to back away from but met with the door of your closet after one measly step, effectively trapping yourself once more. Stopping just before you, he raised his arms with upward-facing palms in the falsest show of submission you had ever seen, one that felt like a mockery. “Come back to me, Y/N.”

You remained motionless. Viego was many things, many brutish, despicable things, but never a liar. If he was intent on destroying the entire world until you were in his grasp once more, he would do it hundreds of times over. Despite knowing this and fearing the worst, your desire for freedom still called to you from the back of your mind, a small voice on the brink of defeat, yet one that still held out so much hope.

“Please don’t make me.” Weak and dry, your voice was so broken. Defeated. Even Viego simpered vilely, both of you understood that this was a desperate last effort and that you had no chance, that this effort had failed.

“If you want them to live, you know what to do.”

You were crying again. Not a theatrical, loud cry, simply hot tears that impaired your vision and swelled your throat, making it feel full and suppressive to any words you wanted to say. With a shaky breath and a harsh swallow, you managed to communicate just one. One that you dreaded saying as it would be a form of confirmation, but you could not let this continue, you could not leave Senna and Lucian at risk after all they had done for you.

“Okay,” it was a groggy murmur, with a tone that would have been so obviously averse to anyone else’s ears. But to Viego, it was an instant victory, your wholehearted agreement. You looked at his smug expression while you trod to him heavily, so slow with feet that felt encased in cement as if to stall your impending doom for as long as you could. Viego was not a patient man, but you knew that right now he would let you walk to him for hours longer if it guaranteed your return.

His shorter wait in reality certainly was a guarantee, you found yourself folding in on yourself against his chest much sooner than you would have liked. While his hold was something that you usually dreaded being in, right now it brought a soothing sense of familiarity as you felt his arms envelop you like a shield, protectively. He pulled you even tighter against him, your hips touching and reminding you of the state he was still in even after all of this. He then leaned down until his lips were right by your ear, brushing over your lobe.

“You know how much it pains me to punish your wrongdoings, but I cannot let your abandonment go undisciplined. We will discuss this further when we get home.”

You tried to look up at him while the mist began to engulf your surroundings, your sight becoming more and more narrow until all you could see was Viego and his utterly heartbroken eyes, classically so, because the topic of him hurting you just seemed to hurt him even more. Somehow, the view broke your heart too, regret filling you as you never truly wanted to upset the man who loved you so much. Before succumbing to the darkness, all you could think of was how glad you were to have the peace restored, to know that all would be well between you and your Ruined King once again as soon as you woke up. No more false happy endings, no more delusions of thinking that you were allowed to live and experience silly things like nature. You would be returning to the truth and stability with the man who would do anything for you, and that was all you ever needed.

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