#Our Eternal Banquet

[wutheringskies]

Lan-er gongzi, what are your feelings over this matter?

Link: Here!

Excerpt: “Do you not like it?” Lan Wangji interrupts, done with his bath. “Like what?” Wei Wuxian retorts. The sun has set and the lamp-light makes him look softer, more mortal and less ephemeral. But as beautiful as ever. He has a deep pout on his face and Lan Wangji’s chest feels so tight. “This,” Lan Wangji says, gesturing vaguely towards himself, from head to toe. Perhaps, it will be convenient to mention that he is very much naked right now, dripping with water from his bath. Length: 1.7k Tags: No warnings apply, Teens and Up, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Married Wangxian, Canon Dynamics.

So, I finally ended my years-long writing break and wrote my first Wangxian fic. I'm a bit rusty but I'd really appreciate support. This is part of an ongoing series called "Our Eternal Banquet" which will be a series of one-shots, centred around their mundane, married life. I'm trying to stick close to their canon dynamics and characteristics.

For this fic, I'd the idea that Wei Wuxian was canonically the 4th most eligible bachelor, and perhaps the most approachable and I could totally see him being surrounded by all grandmothers and elderly ladies trying to match-make his marriage, and of course, he's going to brag to Lan Zhan, hahaha!

AO3: Here!

[hunsa-jars]

Howdyy my oral exams were held yesterday, got lucky with the topics and I’m very happy with my results

This mouse officially graduated from high school, peeps :’)

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

[aphroditelovesu]

Winter Solstice | Yan!HOTD

❝ 🐉 — lady l: Merry Christmas, my dear readers! I wish you a great day and a prosperous New Year! I hope you enjoy this Christmas special with our yandere family from HOTD! Good reading, forgive me for any mistakes and once again, have a great holiday to you ❤️🎄.

❝warnings: yandere themes, mention of death and obsessive and possessive behavior.

❝🐉word count: 1,941.

A long, long time ago, when the Earth was young and the days were short, people looked up to the sky with wonder and awe. They watched the Sun rise and fall over the horizon, its heat bringing life to the earth and its dark nights bringing a deep sleep to the world.

In the ancient realm of the seasons, each cycle marked the eternal dance between light and dark. As winter approached, a whisper spread through nature. Leaves fell from the trees, animals sought shelter and the nights extended, enveloping the world in a blanket of darkness and cold.

It was the time of the Winter Solstice, a magical moment when the Earth seemed suspended between extremes. People gathered around campfires, telling stories of times gone by, sharing warmth and hope amid the impending darkness.

On the eve of the longest night of the year, eyes turned to the sky, waiting for the miracle. Slowly, the Sun began its journey towards the horizon, fighting the darkness with its golden light. The stars twinkled above, bearing witness to the celestial spectacle.

And then, in the most sublime moment, the Sun began to rise, rising majestically into the sky. The colors of dawn painted the landscape, and people celebrated the rebirth of the Sun, knowing that light and warmth would return to the world. It was a symbol of renewal, hope and the continuous cycle of life.

On the Winter Solstice, people came together to celebrate the courage of the light that faces the darkness, remembering that even in the darkest moments, there is always the promise of rebirth and the light that returns to warm the hearts and illuminate the souls ways.

It had always been your favorite time of year, you loved how the snow fell from the sky and painted everything white, the food, the exchange of gifts and most importantly, it was when your whole family was together. You appreciated more than anything the few moments of peace that your family spent during that date, all happy and together. Like a big, loving family.

Having them all together was what you loved most as you grew up. All the disputes, the fights seemed to disappear during this time of year. Your heart and mind were at peace.

The green of the forest and the fiery red of love and passion. Its fabric was as soft as a spring breeze, a harmonious blend of silk and cotton that moved like leaves dancing in the wind. The predominant green was reminiscent of treetops, its hue varying from a lush emerald green to softer nuances, like newborn buds. The waist was accentuated by a deep red belt, as if it were the blush of the petals of a passionate rose. The intense tone stood out, creating a magnificent contrast with the lush greenery, and a decorative bow added a touch of elegance.

Something beautiful and elegant, with both of your family colors. Of the Targaryens and the Hightowers. There was some small, discreet blue embroidery that symbolized the Velaryon, subtle but standing out in its own way.

You turned to your maid who was looking at you with affection, you smiled at her, ''What do you think, Diane?''

She smiled widely, ''You looked incredible, my princess/prince. A suitable choice for a dinner with your family.'' There was a hint of worry in her tone, but you just held her hands and squeezed them gently.

''Don't worry, Diane. Everything will be fine.''

She nodded, ''Yes... Do you want me to accompany you to where the banquet will be held?''

You politely denied, ''No, but thank you.''

A hint of disappointment flashed in her brown eyes, but she just smiled and after a simple bow, she left the room. You took a deep breath and looked at the ring that adorned your finger, a gift from your grandfather, Viserys. He was sick and you swore to yourself that you would do everything to make this dinner enjoyable for him. He deserved it.

Just as you expected, everything was impeccable and your family was already waiting for you. A majestic dining room, adorned with golden chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting soft light on long solid wood tables.

The walls were covered with richly embroidered tapestries, depicting scenes from Targaryen history and grand festivities. The polished stone floor gleamed in the light of the torches that adorned the walls, reflecting the grandeur of the space.

In the center of the room, a long table stretched out, covered in an immaculate linen tablecloth and decorated with wildflower arrangements and heraldry of noble families. Silver candelabras exuded a soft glow, while golden goblets glittered in the dancing light of the flames.

Music filled the atmosphere as skilled musicians played lutes, flutes and harps, entertaining guests with happy melodies and lively dances.

''(Y/N)!'' Your mother's excited voice called out to you and you smiled at Rhaenyra, who quickly hugged you, placing her head against the crook of your neck, ''You look great, sweetheart.''

''Thanks, mom. You look great too.'' And indeed, she did. Rhaenyra wore a dark red dress decorated with gold that fit her perfectly. She pulled back a little and smiled at you.

''(Y/N)! We're here.'' On one side of the table, your younger brothers sat. You looked at Jacaerys, Lucerys, and little Joffrey, who were smiling at you. You kissed Rhaenyra's cheek and went to sit next to your brothers. Or you tried, for that matter.

For you were quickly pulled to the side as Aegon grabbed you and pulled you closer to him, Aemond, and Helaena. You smiled at your aunt and uncles and greeted them.

''Sit with us.'' Aegon asked and pointed to an empty chair next to Helaena who was smiling sweetly at you. You looked nervously at your brothers, who were staring at Aegon with disdain.

Aemond frowned and placed a hand over your shoulder, ''Come, stay with us.'' His tone said there was no room for argument.

Luckily for you, the doors opened and revealed Viserys along with Alicent, both smiling when they saw you. You apologized to your aunt and uncles and quickly walked over to your grandparents, helping Viserys sit down.

''Ah, (Y/N)... You look great!'' Viserys praised you, as soon as he sat down. You smiled at him and kissed his cheek in thanks.

Alicent pulled you into a tight hug, ''My husband is right, you look great. This shade of green suits you very well.'' She murmured and walked away hesitantly, adjusting your clothes. You kissed your face.

''Thanks. You look amazing too.'' She smiled in response and held your hands, squeezing them gently.

After a few minutes of talking to your grandparents, you walked over to your father and uncle, who were sitting next to each other. Laenor smiled widely and pulled you into a tight hug, not wanting to let go. He only let go when Daemon cleared his throat, irritated.

Laenor rolled his eyes and let go of you, staring at Daemon with an iron gaze. Daemon returned the same look and you acted quickly before they fought.

''Happy Solstice to you both.'' You said, twiddling your fingers nervously. Daemon smiled and patted you on the shoulder twice, pulling you into a hug. You hugged him back.

''Happy Solstice, my child.'' Laenor said after you and Daemon parted ways.

''Happy Solstice, (Y/N).'' Daemon said, looking at you softly. You thanked them and apologized as you left them, wanting to greet your other family members. You spotted Baela and Rhaena sitting near your brothers and quickly walked over to them.

''Finally. I thought you would never come and talk to us.'' Baela complained and got up from the chair and hugged you tightly, ''I missed you, cousin.''

You returned the hug tightly, smiling at her words, ''I missed you too, cousin.''

Rhaena cleared her throat and stood up, hugging you as you and Baela separated.

You smiled at the squeeze and said, ''I missed you too, Rhaena.''

Joffrey got out of his chair and jumped into your arms, laughing loudly when you caught him in a tight hug.

''You're getting too big for me to keep doing this.'' You laughed and rolled him over, placing him on the floor. Russing his dark hair, you smiled when he laughed. You hugged Luke, who seemed especially clingy today. Jace also hugged you tightly and wished you a Happy Solstice.

After talking for a while with your brothers and cousins, you went to greet your paternal grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys were sitting next to Otto, oddly enough, and the three of them looked at you with affection.

''Grandmother.'' You kissed Rhaenys's cheek who kissed yours back.

''Grandpa.'' You hugged Corlys and he hugged you back and complimented the blue details on your outfit.

''Otto.'' You greeted your great-grandfather, who smiled warmly at you. He seemed relaxed and calm, more so than he normally was.

''Shall we have dinner in honor of this happy day?'' Viserys's loud voice sounded in the room and everyone focused on the King. There was a bit of tension about where you should sit, but you chose next to Viserys and Rhaenyra, who shook your hand under the table.

Servants brought silver trays loaded with delicious delicacies. Large roasts of meat browned on skewers, exuding a tantalizing aroma of exotic spices. Tables were adorned with fresh fruit, from crimson apples to juicy grapes, and freshly baked bread that looked like it had come straight from the oven.

Plenty of wine circulated among everyone and soon everyone was laughing and talking. Your heart felt lighter when you saw your entire family happy, getting along for the first time in a long time.

After the banquet, you all went to one of the rooms of the castle, where the gifts were. The exchange went well, you received gifts from everyone individually and you presented them with what you carefully chose. Ser Criston was present and you gave him a gift too, under the watchful eye of your family, a pure Valyrian steel sword. He smiled in thanks and said he would give you a gift later.

When it seemed like the exchange of gifts was over, Otto said, ''We have a special gift for you, (Y/N). From all of us.'' He gestured to your entire family, who looked on expectantly. You took the gift from his hand, a wooden box with gold details, which was well packaged.

As soon as you opened it, all the color in your face disappeared. It was a head, a human head. You felt like you were going to throw up when you recognized the head. Diane, your servant.

''W-What is this?!'' You groaned, the words stuck in your throat as you held the box, your legs shaking as terror invaded your body. Everyone seemed calm, even Viserys.

''This is our gift to you, my child.'' Rhaenyra said and approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, ''To remind you not to approach anyone.''

''They can't be trusted,'' Alicent began to say, ''Diane couldn't be trusted. Criston was the one who cut off her head and Rhaenyra, Helaena and I cradled her. The choice of the box was Daemon's.''

They looked at you expectantly, as if they hoped you really liked the gift. Your hands were shaking so much that the box fell to the floor, Diane's severed head falling to the floor.

A perfect ending to a loving Winter Solstice with your family, from their perspective.

[not-fortune-cookie]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

                Upon the vast Silver Tree that concealed a Corrupted Beast within, a small Cookie dawned in Pearly White robes stood upon the roots. Their gaze softened as a hum of a song uttered solemnly as they put their forehead on the trunk, whispering a woe towards the shame they felt for the Cookies befallen under the Witch's cage.

                They had witnessed the fall of the former heroes. The corruption that darkened the heart of the now-Beasts. They never foresaw the torment and destruction to be inflicted towards their fellow cookies.

                Their dough soured as the time passed in memory. They never had seen this outcome to protect the peace from the Beasts that was hidden beneath the roots of the Tree. For their once friends had become strangers. Let alone foreseeing the transformations of these fallen heroes from their closest companion to be a... MONSTER.

                At the sound of soft cracks near them, the Cookie perked up. "Elder Faerie Cookie..." they muttered, knowing his identity upon his quiet steps. "Fret not of my being... For I am grieving..."

                "I would assume so, starlight," the Fairy King softly said, his arms placed behind his back as he approached the sorrowful Cookie. "Since eons of protecting this Silver Tree, you still mourn the imprisonment of these Beasts."

                The Cookie winced at the reminder of the true colors of the ones they had longed to reunite. Their crystal eyes melted in shame, gripping their weapon tightly, and thoughts grew with agitation.

                The betrayal. The broken promise. The heartbreak they suffered to see their closed Cookies locked away...

                "Elder Faerie Cookie... They have been my allies." They said, tone keeping their solemn tune. "My companions. My... friends."

                "Friends that turned their backs to all Cookiekind..." The Fairy King said, albeit harsh held the truth. "Come now, starlight. Why haven't you let go of the memories of these Beasts? You are to rule alongside me, to prevent them from harming anyone once more."

                "Is it wrong for me to reminisce the past, dear friend?" They said as they break contact from the tree, staring at the roots that White Lily Cookie bound when the Beast almost broke free.

                "Even with time, the bonds that I have with them were not easy to sever..." They clenched their hands with their lips quivering.

                "But it's time for you to open your eyes, starlight," Elder Faerie Cookie said as he reached over to them and lifted their head to meet his gaze. "They are no longer what you paint them to be. For as long as our dough is crisp, we are to prevent them to cast discord."

                He sighed, "We have a duty to uphold, [Y/N] Cookie. I need you to keep strong. To assist me to rule the Faerie Kingdom. Please, I cannot lose you, too."

                [Y/N] Cookie's gaze softened, their thoughts lingering with the slumbering White Lily Cookie they and Elder Faerie Cookie protected. In an eternal sleep, hanging into the life energy she still has, the Ancient Hero had helped strengthen the Silver Tree when the Beast almost broke free within.

                They had lost their precious friends, and now they're also losing the one close to them once more. Elder Faerie Cookie spoke the truth. The Kingdom needed them, they cannot lose their current people.

                "You're right..." They muttered, looking towards the banquet. Most faeries singing praises, "I must focus on events of today."

                Even with the hollow feeling in their chest, they couldn't help but ponder. A pit in their stomach gnawed with dread, making them glance towards the Silver Tree.

                They dismissed it, looking towards Elder Faerie Cookie as they offered a small smile, they held his hands and squeezed them in reassurance. "I'll be here with you. You will not lose me."

                'I cannot bring them down.' They thought as they glanced around with a smile and wave as they watched the festive faeries continue to sing praises.

                However, no one noticed the crack into the seal and a peal of giggle escaping from the Silver Tree...

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 7: Eternity's Promise

Summary: Astarion is alone.

Word Count: 4.9k

Pairing: Soft Ascended Astarion x Female Spawn Tav/Reader

Warning: 18+. Blood and Violence. PiV. Cunnilingus. Handjob. Masturbation. Obsessing over his consort’s panties. Obsessive and Possessive behavior. Heavy trigger warning for Panic Attack & Anxiety. Our vampire lord really going through it.

Link to AO3!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

A/N: yall this one was hard to write and took way longer than I intended, i hope I did it justice. please enjoy <3 I’m hoping chapter 8 will be out soon, I have 4 days off next week (mini vacation!) so I still intent to post chapter 8 this coming week :)

Pic by: @druidess-vp <3

Astarion believed he hadn’t forgotten what true suffering felt like: there had been too many times in his past where he was tortured, beaten, starved – no, he had certainly suffered. But the vampire lord had been out of touch with his pain for a long time, enveloped in a loving, fairy-tale-like existence with his darling consort, so perfect and submissive, for the past two thousand years. 

Astarion had everything he could ever want: riches, power, eternal love.

Even when he listened to the news from the realms, on how multiple nations had evolved to civil war, the threat of societal breakdown imminent, he had you, which was enough for him. Everything else could be rebuilt, just like the Ancunín name – but you couldn’t be replaced. 

“Involve the military. Whatever needs to be done, have it done,” Astarion demanded, his frustration growing immensely as he was acutely aware of his wife’s discomfort at the banquet; but he had to ignore it. Astarion had an incredibly powerful mind after his ascent, but that didn’t stop him from feeling mentally spread thin.

“The people are already marching to the capital of Amn. Neverwinter has been taken by a militia,” A man said; Astarion hardly bothered to memorize the faces of his advisors and other figureheads, anymore. It was easier to identify them by scent alone. 

Astarion mindlessly twists his wedding ring, the only one he had chosen to wear. He wanted to protect the Ancunín fortune and the power he’d consolidated, if possible – and most of all,  he really didn’t want to have to handle the managing of accounts during a coup. 

Suddenly, Astarion senses a strange feeling – one that he is familiar with, instantly recognizing it: a vision is coming over you, and he’s already racing towards you, wasting no time excusing himself.

“Astarion, Astarion, Astarion!” Your voice rang out in his head as you called his name over and over. Your fear was imminent, your panic rising by the second.

“I’m coming, my love!” Astarion desperately responds, but your cries only continue, racking through his mind as your fear becomes his own.

“Follow,” Astarion commands Alpohso and Ygritte, who obey immediately. 

Snip.

Astarion’s eyes widen. There is something bubbling inside him, deep in his chest, threatening to blossom as he digs his nails into his palm. It’s painful, making his heart physically ache. Your thoughts and feelings slip away from him, making that void between the two of you entirely empty: Astarion only hears his own thoughts reverberating in his mind. 

Upon viewing the Vampire Ascendant when the cord is cut with his consort, he merely pauses, his intensity so frightening that his spawn tremble with fear, dropping to their knees, ready to serve their Master in whatever way possible. He is empty, a vassal of space that is filled with a vicious anger so feral and vile that Astarion himself fears it. He doesn’t understand what’s happened: he knows you aren’t dead, because he would just know if you were, but he can’t sense you anymore, can’t probe into your mind, and for the first time in two millennia, Astarion finds himself alone.

You are his: his first spawn, his favorite spawn, his consort, his wife, his best friend, his one and only. “Where the hells are you?”

Astarion doesn’t come back to himself until he hears the high pitched screaming of a woman in his ear. He is back at the crèche, in a grand hall he doesn’t even recognize. Astarion knows he followed your scent here, to the end of the trail.

The blonde servant is holding onto a pile of blood and guts on the floor, the gore slipping through her hands as she clutches her chest. Looking at the blood on his hands, he couldnt be sure what he’d done to the spawn, but Astarion thought the servant was surely being dramatic – Ruth would heal, he was a vampire for god's sakes, and the pain the couple felt was nothing compared to how Astarion himself felt.

Something about seeing the two lovers together makes Astarion even more angry, his fury growing steady with every passing moment of your absence. Your voice plays back in his head, your image, the memory of your tender touch…

Cynthia sobs echo through the chamber of the dining hall, even louder than the crowd of gith that hung around the corridor, as she brings her wrist to Ruth’s mouth: the vampire latches on, sucking greedily at his lover. Astarion thinks it might make him feel better if he killed Ruth’s beloved; it would be an apt punishment for the spawn, but it wouldn’t be great enough. Astarion didn’t think any punishment would. Moving towards the couple, Astarion feels a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

The hand is firm, not aggressive but assertive. The hold on him isn’t trying to keep his fist, but get his attention; Astarion turns to see Lae’zel, her makeup smudged and eyes filled with common fury.

Astarion can hear the sound of the Kith’rak attempting to clear the hall, followed by a barrage of questions from the crowd. 

Astarion flinches away from her, her touch only making his skin crawl. He flits through her mind before she can even speak, gathering all the information the gith had about your disappearance. You vanished through a portal of darkness, Ziir’o had grabbed your hand, but the force was too strong, and you slipped away.

Lae’zel begins to speak, but Astarion moves past her, deciding Ziir’o should also be punished. But Astarion stops, recognizing something in the eyes of several of the gith: they, too, longed for you. It only reminded him of your absence, of that blank space in his mind that only increased, like the never ending expansion of the universe.

“You promised me forever, Tav.”

Instead of crushing the young gith’s chest and eating his heart, Astarion materializes into red mist, flitting away from the scene to scan the crèche for any sign of you. After many hours, he finds himself in the enchanted forest, zipping through the trees and murdering anything in sight.

The cavern in his chest only grows more hollow, and Astarion finds himself crying out for you with every stab, every bite, until his throat feels sore. He ran himself to the point of exhaustion, and although he would recover quickly, the wild thumping of Astarion’s heart made him feel a bit more steady. Alive, reminding him that he was still here, even if you weren’t, which means that he would just have to get you back.

Once Astarion finds his way back to your room, he numbly lays himself on your side of the bed, his nose rubbing into your pillowcase. He knows he can't waste any time, and he will only stay like this for a moment – but it’s a moment he needs, because he’s feeling your absence wash over him all over again, threatening to sweep him off his feet.

He finds himself in a daze, and there is a feeling in his heart that could only be described as frigid. Astarion brushes his fingers through his silver curls, closing his eyes as he accepts how wrong he was to think he ever understood suffering.

****

Astarion rests for only a moment before his mind is itching at him again, his thoughts on loop as his heart churns in his stomach. He felt desperate for your scent, desperate for any sign of you: he found his way to your laundry, finding the clothes you had worn to training that the servant hadn’t gotten around to washing yet. 

They smelled distinctly of your sweat, your blood, and he needed your odor close to him – gods did his chest ache. Astarion would swear on his life his heart wasn’t physically beating right in his chest: he imagined it bruised and broken, fragmented, all its pieces being held by you, leaving behind a shell of a man. 

Astarion lays your clothing on the bed, finding himself clutching your silk panties in his hand. They were white, perfect for one so demure and delicate as his beautiful spawn wife –

Bringing the crotch of your underclothes to his nose, he closes his eyes as he takes in your most intimate scent: but it only makes him feel a deep ache inside, his hardening cock only making matters worse. “I need you, Tav.”

He decides to lose himself in the moment, to escape the looming pain: freeing his member, the warmth of his hand and the fabric of your soft panties has him coming undone quicker than anticipated. His strokes are rough, fast, and he’s imagining your hot, wet mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, his tip reaching the back of your throat. Your eyes would always tear up, but you were such a champion for him –

Astarion lets out a strangled cry as he shoots thick spurts of come, careful not to soil your underclothes, his tears falling before he can stop them. 

Astarion doesn’t understand how this has happened: doesn’t understand how he will begin to fathom that you are gone. He knows he must act soon, but his entire body is aching for you, his hands shaking. His orgasm only made him feel your absence more, and Astarion is cursing himself. 

Suddenly, Astarion remembers the necklace, the warding bond, and he’s grabbing at his throat, only to find the twinkle of the gem had died. Astarion can’t help but imagine you dead, or chained up somewhere, being used – the thought makes him sick.

Moth had you. It was the only person in the world who would take you from him. Astarion had left you alone, and now you were gone, and it was entirely the worst feeling he could recall, other than when Cazador’s blade carved the symphony of the contract into his back. 

Astarion really couldn’t waste anymore time, he decided. He needed to know the specifics of how you were taken and where: he knew about several of Moth’s palaces, and who knows how many more the dragonborn might have, but he may be able to narrow it down if he could get close enough to search for your scent. 

Once Astarion’s recovered, he stuffs your panties into his pocket before gathering your things; he’s interrupted by a brief knock on the door before it swings open. Lae’zel enters, followed by the spawn and your warriors, all ten of them. Astarion hissed at the intrusion, not wanting any of them to muck up the smell of you that still lingered in the room.

Lae’zel immediately notices Astarion’s bloodshot eyes. She remembers something an old hero said, something about vampire lords not being able to love, only craving one thing. The state of her pale friend makes Lae’zel question if what the old hero said was anything more than plain ignorance. 

Their conversation happens in a snapshot, Astarion’s tone lifeless but nonetheless frightening: “This is your fault.”

Lae’zel blinks. “You needn’t be absurd. We are here to help you, Astarion.”

Astarion doesn’t respond for some time; he is thinking about your smile, his deplorable thoughts twisting this precious image to one of your fangs piercing the throat of a dragonborn. Astarion had heard Moth was known for his exotic beauty, and he is seething at the very thought of you caressing scaled skin. 

It was worse if he was taking you by force, if you weren’t enjoying it – that is only the cruelest torture, and Astarion is prepared to tear across realms to prevent this from happening. But if Astarion was being honest with himself, it hurt him more to imagine that you were enjoying your time with this other man. This other vampire…this other lord. ‘He will be her new Master.’ The thought has Astarion crawling in his flesh. He had to have you back, either way. And he was not so proud to deny help, not when it came to you.

“A wizard. We need a good one.” Astarion looked around the room, his hand involuntarily grabbing at the fabric in his pocket, almost as if to check they were still there. He would have to find something else to track you, something of yours that he was willing to part with: your adorable white panties were not one of them.

The gith nod at his request, Lae’zel sending one of the young ones to fetch a shirt of yours.There is something about Astarion’s aura that clears the room, leaving only Lae’zel and the spawn behind, who kneel whenever Astarion is idle. It deeply unsettles Lae’zel, but something about this entire situation felt off to her.

“Is it not strange, to you, that this lord betrays the nature of vampires by taking a spawn he didn’t create?” Lae’zel asks, wiping away a smudge of makeup with a finger. Drenched in sweat and a few tears, It had been a long night for her. Handling Orpheus and the Kith’rak’s reaction to the situation had her reeling: Orpehus was more apt to help, but Elan wanted the vampires gone. Lae’zel and Orpehus had the final say, of course, and she was permitted to continue doing what she was doing: gathering her fighters and spreading her cause in whichever way needed to happen. She couldn’t leave Astarion like this and knew this was the next part of her strange journey.

“It’s not that strange  if you consider the fact that this lord is utterly insane.” Astarion also thought it was rather strange how the Crystalline Spire had no windows, and it made him feel even more closed in. “And I am the only vampire alive who matches him in power. It was only a matter of time before he attempted to take me down.”

“He is a red dragonborn, correct?”

“Yes.”

“It is in their nature to hoard. You’re sure his first name is Geldon? Geldon Moth, the red dragonborn?” Lae’zel’s quizzical tone was beginning to irritate Astarion.

Astarion looked to his spawn. “Up. Gather.” Lae’zel watches uneasily as the two spawn begin to collect the rest of your things. “What do you mean to say?”

“He can’t be much older than you, Astarion. Dragonborn had only been in Toril for hardly two hundred years when you and Tav met.”

“Don’t say her name,” Astarion’s voice was a force that barreled through Lae’zel’s mind, causing her to grab the sides of her head in anguish. The corner of Astarion’s mouth twitches, relishing in the way her heart flutters with fear.

“Do you think I'm an idiot, Lae’zel?” Astarion’s heart is filled with fury, with grief, and Lae’zel backs up to brace herself for a fight. His knees are bent, and he’s nearly crouched, like a predator. “He is only a hundred years older than me. He was named and raised by humans after his parents were slaughtered, and he was created by a vampire far greater than I.”

Astarion pauses, his face softer than Lae’zel had seen before. “Lae’zel. Moth has resources beyond what I’ve amassed. He has a harem of spawn who fight for him, and even more thralls. If I could find the bastard, I could probably take him down myself, but he’s well protected. And he has what is most precious to me. I have to be careful…I have to think.”

But Astarion was having a hard time thinking of anything but you. 

Lae’zel steeled herself, clearly shaken by the situation.”And you have a hoard of gith. And the daylight. And me, of course.” She gave him a weak smile, but it was one Astarion oddly appreciated. He doesn’t return it, but stares at her for what feels like an eternity to Lae’zel before the spawn are kneeling before him once more, prepared for their next task. 

“I must do whatever to get her back. At any cost.”

Lae’zel pauses. There is something she doesn’t understand, something she’s missing: the empty look in Astarion’s eyes gives it away. But she retreats, knowing when to choose her battles. 

“We’re returning home for the time being. Ring me once your witch doctor is done with his tricks.” With that, Lae’zel watches as Astarion turns the corner, disheveled silver curls disappearing at the bend.

“Wait!” Lae’zel runs after him. “Let me come with you, Astarion.”

Astarion turns to her, unable to hide the glassy look in his eyes. He flits through her mind with ease.“You think you still love her. And what you feel for her, Lae’zel, is so very little compared to the bond I share with my wife.”

Lae’zel’s cheeks flush. “My feelings matter not, Astarion. Our friend, Tav, is missing –“ Astarion turns around, but Lae’zel continues, sensing that despite his actions, he was still listening. “I wouldn’t ever leave her behind. Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll…none of us would ever have let harm come to her. It will be that way all my life, as it was for theirs.”

Astarion hardly reacts, already leagues away. “Do whatever you want. You know how to find me.” 

****

Astarion isn’t surprised when Lae’zel shows up with five githyanki fighters on her heels; Astarion immediately knows it’s your warriors, the ones whose scents tended to linger on you longer than the others. He meets them in the portal room of your palace, the one the Ancunín’s called home.

“Our mages have yet to find any trace of her on Toril,” Lae’zel’s words inspire only frustration within Astarion. “Astarion, tell me why you cannot sense her on your own.”

Astarion turns, his back to Lae’zel and the others. Silently commanding his spawn to escort the gith out, Lae’zel and Astarion are left alone in his office. He turns to a large painting of you, noticing it having caught Lae’zel’s eye. 

In the picture, you’re looking over your bare shoulder, your long hair cascading down your back. The expression on your face is soft, your plush lips parted in a way that made you look girlish. Your red eyes seemed to follow Lae’zel, who decided she much preferred your old eye color. 

“I’ve had many of her done over the years. That one is my favorite.” This wasn’t true, but Lae’zel didn’t need to know about the collection of lewd paintings Astarion had of you hanging in the boudoir. 

“When was this painting of her done? It’s lovely.” She asks, her tone as steady as her arm.

“Around eight centuries ago.”

“It’s difficult to fathom that much time has passed,” Lae’zel takes a breath in. “You know, I still remember how she reacted on the docks when the tadpole died.”

Astarion flinches at the thought. When the tadpole died, your vampirism became fully actualized; your hunger had become immediately apparent, uncomfortable. Your senses had drastically sharpened, the smell of blood and guts and the sound of beating hearts hitting you all at once. Your eyes widened, filling with tears as your hunger pains wrecked you. Astarion had felt it, your pain, because your vampiric connection had solidified in that moment: it was beautiful, terrifying, and it was then Astarion knew he would always be a slave to you.

Astarion had to take you away from the others, feeding you from his own wrist while doing his best to restrain you until you got your fill. If you were full, your hunger was easy to control – and a vampire’s hunger is everlasting, even if the vampire has special abilities. 

“She didn’t suffer for long that day. I’ve taken care of her from the moment I made her mine,” Astarion narrows his eyes at her, raising his voice as he feels his anger rising. “Why do you bring up the past? What relevance does this have to finding her?”

“You must know where I stand with you, Astarion. I still cannot bring myself to forgive you for turning her into a vampire. For stealing her life, which you so happily did.”

Astarion grimaces before flashing his fangs at her. He hadn’t really the energy to spare. He sighs before he speaks. “I can easily read your mind, Lae’zel. All your pointless words amount to nothing, to me, because I really don’t give a shit. The only thing I care about is getting my wife back. Hats off to you for saying it to my face, I suppose.”

“She was different after that.”

“Still on about that, are we? We both made sacrifices so that we could spend eternity together. That was my promise to her, and I intend to keep it. Let's not waste anymore time.”

****

After a long day of traversing portals across Toril, handling a divide of a once united world, and dealing with the attitude on Lae’zel, Astarion wanted nothing more than to be alone at the end of the day. He had worked through most of the night before Bethild suggested the lord should rest. He had reluctantly agreed.

“Bring me a glass of red, would you?” Astarion didn’t bother to clean his desk: he would be back in just a few hours. 

Bethild hesitated for only a moment. “Of course, my Lord.” The request was an odd one coming from Astarion, but Bethild was good and never questioned him.

Astarion was met with your favorite red wine by the time he arrived at the boudoir. He thought it far too strong and bitter to be drunk before bed, but it did taste like you: right at the fall of night, before you washed away the doings of the day. He swished the wine in his mouth, savoring its sour flavor before he swallowed. 

Astarion can’t help but dwell on what Lae’zel said: how you were different after your turning. This was undeniably true, Astarion himself having experienced it: you were overall less emotional, but more prone to violence, and you enjoyed combat far more than you ever did. But these things had only made Astarion love you more, and your feelings for him only grew, as well. Astarion would know, because he was always watching his darling.

Astarion hadn’t bothered changing since you vanished, and he realized he was still in the extravagant, elegant clothing he had been in at that stupid meeting about the mortal wars. Studying his ensemble, Astarion feels tight all of a sudden, like he buttoned his clothing too tight, or his chest was being crushed, or like he was underwater – drowning. His breathing quickened until the tips of his fingers went numb, and he was surely dying.

But Astarion reasonably knew that he couldn’t actually die like this: but something inside told him he simply wasn’t safe. Astarion grabs at his collar, yanking the buttons free as he easily tears through the fabric, and he doesn’t stop until he’s on his knees, shredded cloth at his feet. Sitting back on his heels, he brings his ring to his lips before losing all composure. His tears are hot and salty, streaming down his cheeks as his arms move to wrap around his waist. When his fingers brush the scar tissue on his back, he flinches away, not even feeling safe in his own body. 

Bringing his hand back to his mouth, Astarion bites his wedding ring, bringing his tongue to the metal, savoring the metallic flavor as he takes a deep breath. He stays like this for some time before gathering himself up. He was a mess, and as he walked to the bathroom to wash up, he caught a glimpse of himself in a vanity mirror.

He wasn’t surprised at his puffy eyes and disheveled hair. Astarion typically gazed into any mirror he could: he adored his reflection, and yours, which had been a triumph of his as a vampire. He was able to give you something that was so cruelly taken from him, and you never had to forget your gorgeous face. 

Astarion gazed heavily into his own eyes, which were the same shade of deep crimson as yours. ‘How rare. How sweet.’ 

Every thought of you burned him, like a double edged sword: to try not thinking of you hurt just as much. Astarion narrows his eyes at himself – even after two millennia of being able to see his reflection, he never got tired of it, but there was something in his expression that was just off. If he looks close enough, if he focuses only on his eyes, he can see you in him…

“I love you, Tav.” But it doesn’t fill the growing void in his chest. The words weren’t a magic spell, even if they felt like it when spoken from your lips. Astarion returns to the bed he once shared with you, your clothes littering the mattress as your beloved vampire desperately tore through your belongings, grabbing anything and everything that smelled like you. 

He should have told you that more. How much he adored you – how much he loved you. How his heart beat only for you, and everything he had in this world was nothing without you. How he felt that even with his ascension, even with everything he’s given you, he still hadn’t given enough.

Astarion stays in reverie while he can – at least until the sun comes up. For now, Astarion simply wants to live in memories of you: your smile, your laugh, your smooth, flawless skin, the pitch of your voice…

Astarion’s tongue was between your lips, your kisses languid and sloppy as the two of you lay naked in bed, silken sheets resting at your hips. Astarion has you on your back; he is perched on his elbow, curls falling out of place as he’s forgotten the world around him.

His tongue sucked and stroked your own, a trail of saliva connecting your lips when he pulled away to look at you. “My treasure…”

Astarion twitches. This had been right before Lae’zel showed up and ruined it all. Astarion goes back further, to a more lewd memory:

Your cunt was sucking his cock in, taking him so relentlessly that he felt like you wouldn’t ever let him go. His hands roamed your body, his fingers stopping to tug at your nipple, the hardening bud sensitive enough to make your back arch just from his touch.

He softly ruts into you, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Tell me again, my favorite spawn.” Before you could respond, Astarion grasped your jaw with his hand, meeting your eyes to his. “Obey me.”

“I love you, Master Astarion.”

“Tav…” the elf moans, his mind already involuntarily flickering to another memory.

Astarion is perched at a window. He swiftly breaks the lock, entering the house silently, crouching as he approaches a sleeping man. 

The man was tall, muscular, his curly red hair and copper skin immediately having an effect on you. Astarion thought the man rather attractive himself, and permitted you to ask him to bed. He had been invited back to the Ancunín estate many times.

Astarion thinks about the way you cried out the man’s name the last time the three of you were together as he slid the dagger into his throat. The way you run your fingers through the hair on the man’s chest and groin flashes before Astarion’s eyes when the man tries to ask why.

“I won’t share in her heart.”

Astarion opens his eyes, cursing at the wretched memory. He didn't understand why he was dwelling on such things, but the pit in his stomach spoke tenfold: he had never told you the truth about the man’s death, even when you cried after hearing the news of it. He hid the information away from you, one of the few secrets he kept, and it only made his stomach churn to think about it. Astarion shakes these thoughts away as he eases out of the bed and makes his way to the balcony. He breathes in the cool night air, the stars shining bright in the sky as he looks off into the abyss of the city below. 

In the coming days, Astarion would be in agony: he wouldn’t rest, his mind flitting to you every second as his thoughts became single minded, obsessive, like he was on a loop that is purely you. Astarion has music playing in the halls continuously, because he began hearing an echo of your voice throughout the palace, and he really thought himself going mad. 

He would create many more spawn, sending them out into the night to scout for your scent. Astarion himself would do so for days, even returning to the crèche to ensure he hadn’t missed any information, but all roads lead to nowhere.

On the mantle of the fireplace in the grand boudoir, a painting hangs: you lie on your back, your breasts exposed, the expression in your eyes is hungry, wanting, and your lips are parted just enough to see the tip of your fangs. Your arms are overhead, as if you are lounging in a stretch. Your thighs are together, and when Astarion looks at the painting, he imagines spreading them, taking your folds in his mouth and pleasuring you until you’ve come undone around his tongue. Astarion has thousands of memories of you like this, desperate and whimpering for him, and something about knowing he’s fucked you, his eternal bride, far more times than his body count brings comfort to him.

But no amount of memories could replace you. Tears were unbecoming of a vampire lord, and yet they began to feel like second nature to Astarion. 

****

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

[gothicflowers]

Philip x f!reader

“Breathe”

SFW - Panic Attack

There was so many people at the yearly shadow company banquet. The amount of shadows had doubled in the past years. There had to be at least 150 people here. And being the commanders wife meant the whole night was spent forcing out hellos and smiles until your cheeks hurt.

Socializing has always been a struggle for you. Always trying to run under the radar. Surprisingly that’s what attracted Philip to you. The loudest man in the room and the lady that never spoke. He found it adorable, much to your surprise he never pushed you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with when it came to socializing.

He knew that it was difficult for you to be in this sort of situation but always maintained positive physical contact with you to let you know he’s there. His hand on your back, hip or your favorite, arms loops together holding you close while rubbing your hand.

It was time for speeches and afterwards the real party would start. Philip as usual would close out speeches for the night, and here the man of the hour was wrapping things up.

“Gentleman I’d say we’ve had one hell of a good year. Partners of shadows I’d like to thank you all for your constant support so these men could go out and get the tough jobs done. And lastly I’d like to thank someone that goes under appreciated. Without her our operations would be an unorganized mess. She’s truly a shadow because you’ll never see all the work she does to ensure we are ready for battle.”

All the shadows knew who he was talking to. Over the past few years you became a mother figure to the company. Always checking in on them after missions. Acting as the company counselor in times of distress. Always cooking and baking because it was calming for you. Making sure all the ammunition and weapons were serviced and stocked. Piles of paperwork. You did the small things that could easily be overlooked.

Suddenly the everyone was standing and a loud round of applause filled the room. Shyly smiling and looking down at the table after realizing everyone had eyes on you. The kind gesture sent you into a sheer panic. Your mind headed straight for the worst. They must have been whispering about you. Judging your hair, dress, posture. Everything. The familiar feeling of being uncomfortable in your skin set in again a burning sensation.

“And on that final note please enjoy the rest of your night ladies and gentlemen.”

By the time graves made it back to your table your hands were shaking. And you could feel your throat start to tighten.

He nealed down infront of you when he noticed you were trying your hardest to disassociate.“Baby what’s wrong”

You choked the words out “they all looked at me, it was terrifying”

Philip quickly realized that what he intended as a kind gesture of appreciation sent you into a panic. He didn’t even realize what the consequences could be of drawing attention to you.

“Oh baby I didn’t mean for it to-“

“Can we go outside”

He gently grabbed your hand helping you up from your seat “of course”

After what felt like a small eternity trying to catch your breath Philip asked if you’d like to turn in for the night. It was an easy answer. Philip helped you into the car and went back in to retrieve your clutch and shawl.

The car ride back was silent until Philip spoke up.

“I’m so proud, you did so well”

“Everyone was looking at me Philip. I appreciate you mentioning me in your speech but I didn’t think they’d do that.”

“Baby, let’s both take a deep breath” Philip grabbed your hands and held them gently in his.

*inhales and exhales together*

You could still feel the tightness in your chest. Tears welling up in your eyes threatening to spill.

“One more for me baby”

*inhales and exhales together again*

His hand gives yours a gentle squeeze. His eyes are calm and relaxed, full of endearing patience and love.

“Good girl”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I panicked”

“You have nothing to apologize for baby girl.”

“I know, I could just feel all their eyes on me. I just hate that you have to deal with me freaking out over absolutely nothing. I feel like a burden.”

“Baby you will never be a burden to me. And they all were admiring how beautiful you looked. Hell I had three of the new guys ask how I managed to get such a beautiful woman to marry me. Still not sure how I did honestly. But everyone loved you baby. Now would you like your weighted blanket and headphones to help?”

“Blanket please”

[totem-but-shark]

The differences and similarities between c and Q foolish is always so interesting to look at

They both have an ambition, though that came later on for cfoolish, and a tendency to make connections. Obviously that desire to build and create massive structures is shared as well

There are big differences though. A massive part of cfoolish was his pacifism and his struggle to find balance, which contrasts with with a chaos thrill seeking qfoolish

Cfoolish also isolated himself more. He deliberately built his home further away and harder to get to while foolish built his home right at spawn.

They’re both fairly well aware of cycles of violence and revenge, and act accordingly.

I also like how foolish almost always builds his homes by water, which is a deliberate choice by ccfoolish, as a throughline

it's SOOOOO interesting!!! there's so many similarities and parallels between the two whilst still feeling like fresh takes on the same base, uniquely shaped by their individual smps lore and experiences but the biggest question that prompts for me is "what exactly MADE them different?". If we consider that in a way they're different spins on essentially the same core character of Foolish the immortal shark totem was there some specific event or circumstance or fundamental difference in their hypothetically separate existences that caused them to split off as they seemingly have.

Where it's easy to spot the similarities when they're carved from the same stone, their differences run just as deep. These are characters with starkly different worldviews if you look close enough.

It's something i've thought about a lot and the conclusion I keep coming back to over and over is that thier defining difference is their relationship with or proximity to godhood.

They're two very very different immortals, Cfoolish was a god/demigod, he spent his life believing in his status as something more amongst mortals and this wasn't truly challenged until he found himself bleeding red red red slaughtered at the red banquet. So much of his character was defined by his past divinity, the grace he fought tooth and nail to regain. Remnants of a darker crueler past, bloodstained hands atoned for with 100 lifetimes of pacifism. Beautiful hollow empty temples. I feel there is a clumsiness to cfoolish, having to learn to be a person after a forever of naive arrogance that could only belong to one who thinks themself a god and afraid like a child when the illusion breaks.

Whilst our knowledge of qfoolishs history is more limited, from the little we've been given he feels far more human. Which might be ironic for an immortal shark dude but there are no stories of bloodlust, worship or great powers beyond comprehension. Only the far more tame, almost domestic tidbits about bumping into bad and shenanigans together over the centuries. In my mind he might've been an immortal traveler walking the earth and doing as he pleased, not as a god but a couple thousand years old regular guy living his normal life just for a very very very long time. Qbad and Qfoolish carry a sense of wisdom to them unique to their qsmp iterations, more traveled and emotionally older than previous versions, like they've seen it all before. I see it in the way they speak and talk with one another and generally interact with the world around them and whilst it's likely a matter of both ccbad and ccfoolish expanding their stage presence and refining their RP but it really does add another layer of depth to these characters.

All together there simply isn't this same connection to divinity, the qsmp world is generally quite detached from religious structure. Maybe qfoolish might've been as powerful as cfoolish or had the capacity to be but never sharpened that aspect of himself pulling him further and further away from cfoolishs acts of wrath that became such an integral key turning point for his character. Qfoolish instead growing comfortable in casual eternity. Could qfoolish never have become a totem of death? How would that have effected his character compared to Cfoolish? Maybe not, it's extremely hard to judge how powerful qfoolish might be with a wiped memory and the possibility of federation power limiters/magic suppressors. Before getting on that train he could've been as powerful as cfoolish in his prime however with the information we have we'll simply never know. I think it's unlikely though, if just by his demeanour. Regardless of qfoolishs theoretical power the qfoolish we know is no god, there is no worship, never hailed as something higher. He's simply himself.

There's this odd dissonance between them especially in their relationship with death. Cfoolish viewed death as something he was excluded from, had power over and only saw in the lifeless eyes of others. Until he didn't. Qfoolish knows death is natural and equally inevitable. He fears it too of course though in the way one might fear the tide, he builds sand castles on the shore knowing they'll get washed away by the morning but can't help but bask in the sun anyway. Qfoolish walks among the people and knows you don't have to die yourself for death to hurt.

[elderberries-and-honey]

Dear Millie,

I know last we spoke, you were dreadfully angry with me and I understand why I haven't heard from you since I moved. But I've been married a year now and I cannot keep things to myself any longer; there are things I simply cannot tell to Mother and so I must say them to you now.

Do you remember when we were young and I would prattle off about never being married? "Well, I'd like to be an old spinster!", I'd tell the girls at the workhouse. All this time, I thought it to be true. Until I met Lawrence.

He is the most beautiful man I could have ever hoped for. He is patient, and kind. I truly think you would take to him if you would only give the chance.

When Lawrence isn't busying himself with the farm, and I my writing, we go to the sea and have wonderful picnics - huge banquets with the food we've grown ourselves. Honey & Thistle like to come right along with us; Thistle loves to watch the fish in the sea and the birds on the shoreline while Honey usually prefers to stay by my side and nap as always.

Lawrence says he hates the cold so we have been spending much of our time outside while it's still warm in the afternoon. Though, I myself can't wait for Winter; I'm sure you remember my fondness of it.

Now, Millie, I know you're still hurt but I hope enough time has passed that perhaps it has dwindled; I like to imagine you have simply misplaced my address.

Even if I never receive a response from you, I must confess to someone that I am with child. I have yet to tell Lawrence, mostly because I have been enjoying keeping this time for just the baby and I.

I fret over the idea of you not being in this little one's life. I hope you will agree to meet them at least, and Lawrence, someday soon - I hope it's true time can heal all wounds.

I love you for eternity.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨, 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝘽𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙚

𝙋.𝙎. 𝙃𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙈𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙣!

next / previous / first

[dokujirai]

Charisma - Tendo Amahiko "Moonlight Hormao" English Lyrics Translation

This is an English translation of Tendo Amahiko's second solo song “Moonlight Hormao.” Song is on all streaming sites.

Please be advised that this is merely a translation into English and may not be 100% accurate.

Any questions, concerns, theories, or feedback is appreciated! Thank you for reading.

TL Notes:

There's so many orgasms

無礼講 (bureiko) is when people of different classes come together and break social rules together. For example in Japanese work culture, companies will have mini-drinking parties leading to juniors drunkenly criticizing work strategy in front of their seniors. They usually just freely speak their minds. I just translate this as “break some rules”

Hormaó is a Greek word that means “to set in motion, to hasten on”

Sexy Amahiko IN YOUR AREA

Oxytocin (cin) The culmination of a euphoric climax Orgasm (asm) Just a little bit more Even if you don’t care, it’ll happen anyways I’ll show you great pleasure

Entwined and inexhaustible Cry all you want I’m showing off this national treasure ha ha ha ha While we’re at it, let's get to the point and break some rules Serotonin and dopamine too Oozing, twitching, heavy load

Festival! It’s a festival! So-re No limits on this Ascension Day Open up your body and soul Cross the equator Your hidden wild side Let’s expose it

Moonlight-light moonlight-light Come forth, I am Life Moonlight-light moonlight-light Fulfill me Moonlight-light moonlight-light The beast within Maomaoma Hormaomaoma

Ah Godspeed my dear Only you can bring me love Lay yourself bare

Our banquet for mankind is marvelous We embraced the wilderness and became one With our eyes, with our with with our hands We hunted, we cultivated, all of creation together as one

Begging for rain, ablutions, purification, repentance In the sun we must bask, bask, bask No one is without blessings

Expose yourself Moonlight-light moonlight-light Come forth, I am Life Moonlight-light moonlight-light Fulfill me Moonlight-light moonlight-light The beast within Maomaoma Hormaomaoma

Ah Godspeed my dear Only you can bring me love Lay yourself bare

Festival! It’s a festival! So-re Indulge in this harvest festival as you please Eternal life and prosperity for all Overcome the path of strife Glowing with enthusiasm Bare, bare, lay yourself bare

Moonlight-light moonlight-light Come forth, I am Life Moonlight-light moonlight-light Fulfill me Moonlight-light moonlight-light The beast within Maomaoma Hormaomaoma

Ah Godspeed my dear Only you can bring me love Lay yourself bare

Gather around and look about Come dance and laugh Gather around and look about Maomaoma hormaomaomaoma Gather around and look about Have a good dance and laugh with us

[wutheringskies]

Everlasting Sunshine (WutheringSkies)

Link: Here

“Mn,” Lan Zhan replies, moving to his dresser, “Is that the same book which you were reading yesterday?” “Yes,” Wei Ying says, “It’s written in your old script so it’s as difficult as reading the collection of righteousness.” Lan Zhan’s heart feels warm at his petulant tone as he picks out a set of travel-friendly robes, “Mn. What is it about?” “Divorce.” Lan Zhan’s hand freezes.

Tags: Post Canon, Slight Angst, Lots of Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lan Zhan is Whipped, domestic

Length: 5.1k

This is the second work in my ongoing series - Our Eternal Banquet. I really like this one, cause, Wei Wuxian is a gremlin. But we (Lan Wangji especially) love him for it. And also Wei Wuxian is endlessly kind and everyone's parent and support person. And Lan Wangji definitely doesn't plan how he wants his coffin to look like.

[writingwhimsey]

Married to the Enemy- Shingen Ch. 5

Chapter 5

After returning to the inn from his date with Ava, Shingen made his way to the veranda, deciding to sit out and gaze up at the moon as he sipped on some good sake. His mind couldn’t help but to wander to the date he had spent with Ava.

It appeared his new bride was truly special. She seemed to truly care for others. She just wanted everyone to be happy. It must have been that drive to make others happy that led her to agree to an arranged marriage.

He had to admit he adored the way her face lit up when she talked about her work as a seamstress. She had looked so passionate and full of hope. He knew he would need to make sure she was able to work with the seamstresses in Echigo. “Maybe I’ll even be her first customer.” He murmured to himself as he sat silently making his plans.

Though Shingen had always wanted a loving wife and family, he had given up the hope of having those dreams realized long ago. He couldn’t imagine putting loved ones through a difficult ordeal. Yet it seemed the only way to bring true peace had been to ally with the Oda and that had meant entering into this marriage. Kenshin would never agree to such a thing and Shingen didn’t want to foist Yuki into an arranged marriage either. He wanted Yukimura to be able to have the life he wanted. So it seemed only natural for Shingen to take the role himself.

And though this was an arranged marriage, Shingen was going to make sure his wife was comfortable and happy. With whatever time he had remaining, he would make sure her days were happy and spent doing the things she loved.

A couple days later…

After what felt like a small eternity of traveling, we finally arrived in Echigo and were soon crossing the castle gates. When we arrived, what looked like a streak of black, blue, and white seemed to rush at us…well more specifically Sasuke.

“How dare you take so long to get back!”

Sasuke was nimbly jumping off of his horse and dodging the attack. He soon had to draw his own sword as the streak materialized into a strikingly beautiful man. “Lord Kenshin, please…” Sasuke protested with a calm face as he blocked a blow from the man.

“No. You took too long, especially when I didn’t give you permission to go in the first place.”

“I’m sorry Lord Kenshin, but I wanted to be there for my friend.” Sasuke replied.

“You deserve this for going against Lord Kenshin’s wishes and attending the wedding. I was all that was needed to attend in our lord’s stead.” Kanetsugu spoke.

I was watching all of this with a stunned expression on my face. That was when I felt Shingen’s large hand come to rest on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, this is just Kenshin’s way of showing he missed Sasuke.” He assured me.

I turned to look at Shingen, a perplexed look on my face. “Really?”

Shingen nodded. “Yes, he’s not very good at expressing himself without his sword.” He was then hopping down from the horse and offering me his hand. “Allow me to help you down, my goddess.”

I took Shingen’s offered hand and slid down from the horse, though I still couldn’t help but to worry over Sasuke…and did he really go against Kenshin and come to the wedding just for me? He really was such a good friend. “Should…should somebody help him?” I asked, still concerned.

“He’s usually pretty good at handling these things himself.” Yukimura spoke up as he hopped down from his own horse. “But if it gets too intense I’ll help him out in a minute.”

“And I thought our guys were strange.” Saki said with a giggle.

“Lord Kenshin, we do have a banquet planned for this evening.” Sasuke said, as he jumped back from Kenshin and managed to sprinkle ground spikes to stop the man from advancing. “Also this isn’t the proper way to welcome Ava to your castle.”

Kenshin was then turning to look at me with Shingen, a glare clear on his face. “Ah, the woman, who helped stop my war with the Oda.” He muttered.

“Kenshin, Ava is my wife.” Shingen said. “And I would think you could recognize what a brave thing she has done. 

Kenshin continued to glare at me. “Whatever, just make sure you stay out of my way, woman.”

I was feeling a little irked by his attitude…and being called woman. “Excuse me, but I have a name and it’s Ava. And since we’re all part of an alliance now, and I’ll be living here, the least we can do is be civil and you greet me by my name.”

Sasuke and Yukimura were both looking at me with mouths slightly agape. Kanetsugu looked at me like I had just committed some egregious sin and Saki was looking at me with an amused smile.

Kenshin seemed taken aback, but was slowly sheathing his sword before jumping over the ground spikes. “Just see to the preparations for the banquet and you had better have brought back some excellent sake to make up for all of this.” He declared as he walked away.

“I knew you were brave.” Shingen said, smiling warmly at me.

I felt my cheeks flushing from his praise. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I just say whatever pops into my head without thinking…it’s really gotten me into trouble a few times.”

Shingen smiled at me. “I find it an admirable quality.” He said. “Now, come and I’ll show you and Miss Saki to your rooms.”

Some servants were coming to take mine and Saki’s luggage into the castle, while other attendants were taking the horses to the stables. Saki and I followed Shingen inside as he showed us around, taking us to the rooms we would be living in.

“Saki this room is yours.” Shingen said, gesturing to a door. “I hope it is to your liking and it is right here next to Ava’s room.”

Saki smiled. “Thank you, my lord. Makes it very easy to be able to attend to my lady.” She was then winking at me. “I’ll check it out and start working on getting it set up.” Which was her way of saying she was giving me and Shingen privacy.

I smiled at her, but felt my cheeks reddening at the thought of being alone with Shingen like this. Shingen was reaching for my hand. “Allow me to show you, your room, my bride.” He said, once again making me warm all over, especially with the look in his eyes.

“Okay.” I replied, my hand warming up in his larger one.

Shingen opened the door with his free arm and led me inside. The room was beautifully decorated with the most beautiful hanging scrolls and fine arts. The folding privacy screen was gorgeously hand-painted. There were wooden shelves and a wooden chest for clothes and other things. There were vases with fresh flowers…it was honestly more extravagant than my room at Azuchi.

“I hope everything is to your liking.” Shingen said. “I picked everything out for you.”

“Thank you…it’s all so lovely…it’s too much really…” I said, feeling a bit flustered.

“I can’t have my wife in a room with anything less. You don’t put a flower in a plain vase.” Shingen said, lifting my hand to place a kiss on the back.

“I…thank you.” I replied, my face on fire. It was then that it occurred to me that he said this was my room. “So…uhm…you said my room…uh…”

Shingen smiled at me, his gray eyes warm. “I thought it might be more comfortable for you to have your own space.” He told me. “Unless you are ready to share a room with me.”

“I…we’ve only had one date.” I replied, my face heating up further. “I…I do appreciate your consideration.”

“If there is anything you need, just let me know.” Shingen told me. “And speaking of our date… would you attend the banquet with me tonight as our second date?”

I smiled. “I think that would be a good date.” I agreed. “Are…are these banquet formal?”

“No. Very informal actually.” Shingen answered. “Very relaxed. We mainly use them to keep Kenshin pacified with plenty of sake.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh. “Does he get a little less…violent and stabby when he has enough sake?”

Shingen nodded. “Sometimes.” He answered. “I am very much looking forward to spending this evening's banquet with you, though.”

“I am looking forward to it, as well.” I replied.

Shingen smiled. “I will let you get settled and I’ll be back to escort my lovely bride to the banquet.”

“That sounds good.” I replied.

Shingen continued to smile, his gray eyes on mine as he brought my hand up to his lips placing a kiss on the back. “Until tonight, my goddess.”

The warmth of Shingen’s lips lingered on my hand once more. Shingen really knew how to make me melt. I was going to be a puddle…and we’d only been married a few days. 

[byzantine-nectarine]

From an ancient homily for Holy Saturday:

The Lord's Descent Into The Underworld (attributed to Saint Epiphanius of Salamis) Something strange is happening - there is a great silence on earth today, a great silence and stillness. The whole earth keeps silence because the King is asleep. The earth trembled and is still because God has fallen asleep in the flesh and He has raised up all who have slept ever since the world began. God has died in the flesh and Hell trembles with fear. He has gone to search for our first parent, as for a lost sheep. Greatly desiring to visit those who live in darkness and in the shadow of death, He has gone to free from sorrow the captives Adam and Eve, He who is both God and the Son of Eve. The Lord approached them bearing the Cross, the weapon that had won Him the victory. At the sight of Him Adam, the first man He had created, struck his breast in terror and cried out to everyone, “My Lord be with you all.” Christ answered him, “And with your spirit.” He took him by the hand and raised him up, saying, “Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will give you light. “I am your God, who for your sake have become your son. Out of love for you and for your descendants I now by My own authority command all who are held in bondage to come forth, all who are in darkness to be enlightened, all who are sleeping to arise. I order you, O sleeper, to awake. I did not create you to be held a prisoner in Hell. Rise from the dead, for I am the Life of the dead. Rise up, work of My hands, you who were created in My image. Rise, let us leave this place, for you are in Me and I am in you; together we form only one person and we cannot be separated. “For your sake I, your God, became your son; I, the Lord, took the form of a slave; I, whose home is above the heavens, descended to the earth and beneath the earth. For your sake, for the sake of man, I became like a man without help, free among the dead. For the sake of you, who left a garden, I was betrayed to the Jews in a garden, and I was crucified in a garden. “See on my face the spittle I received in order to restore to you the life I once breathed into you. See there the marks of the blows I received in order to refashion your warped nature in My image. On My back see the marks of the scourging I endured to remove the burden of sin that weighs upon your back. See My hands, nailed firmly to a tree, for you who once wickedly stretched out your hand to a tree. “I slept on the Cross and a sword pierced My side for you who slept in Paradise and brought forth Eve from your side. My side has healed the pain in yours. My sleep will rouse you from your sleep in Hell. The sword that pierced Me has sheathed the sword that was turned against you. “Rise, let us leave this place. The enemy led you out of the earthly Paradise. I will not restore you to that Paradise, but I will enthrone you in Heaven. I forbade you the tree that was only a symbol of life, but see, I who am Life itself am now one with you. I appointed cherubim to guard you as slaves are guarded, but now I make them worship you as God. The throne formed by cherubim awaits you, its bearers swift and eager. The Bridal Chamber is adorned, the banquet is ready, the eternal dwelling places are prepared, the treasure houses of all good things lie open. The Kingdom of Heaven has been prepared for you from all eternity."

[random-xpressions]

Being greedy for God too seems to be an unchecked exaggeration. Why would I ask for more when there's enough light for me to see? Why would I ask for a banquet when there's enough in my plate already? Why would I seek to carry a bag when there's already enough in my pockets to sustain the journey? Somehow we are being constantly driven in this endless pursuit, a chase so eternal that it literally is exhausting. For a moment, just for once, try to pause and reflect. All that you truly need is already here, granted and within the hold of your very hand. How much more would you ask of the universe? How much more would you toil, hunting for some treasure in the unknown? There's a garden right in front of your eyes with flowers of highest fragrance and yet you still run behind a musk deer expecting to capture an even more exotic scent? Relax. Slow down. Pause. Settle. Shun all pursuits, even your quest for divine. How better has anyone phrased it other than our master, Jalaluddin Rumi, when he said: 'in the end, I discovered, that I've been knocking all this while, from the inside!'

Random Xpressions

[crehador]

top 5 hypmic songs that arent by bb/mtc nor including any of their members

THIS FEELS LIKE A VERY TARGETED ATTACK but ok... hm... i have to think about this for a while

1) stella

gotta start with stella, it is truly one of the tracks of all time. there is nothing i don't love about it. the sound of it, the lyrics, the story. the lyric video is so pretty and every live performance of it has been so good. stella triangle formation forever

2) femme fatale

AN ABSOLUTE BANGER i love our women who have done nothing wrong ever uwu the newer chuuoku tracks are really good as well but femme fatale being the first holds a special spot in my heart. and i'm so thrilled reol worked on it because it means we got to have her as a guest star at one of the lives and she was!! amazing!!!

3) enishi

godddddd enishi. where do i even start with enishi. there is just a POWER to the vocals of this track that i am absolutely obsessed with. it's tough to choose a favorite track on cross a line because i love them all so much but enishi is honestly up there. the first time i heard it i was like the cat discovering the red part is the good part of the watermelon. O_O eyes activate

(prior to enishi release this spot would have belonged to osaka dreamin' night, also such a fun bop that i am eternally grateful to for introducing me to creepy nuts)

4) I CANNOT POSSIBLY CHOOSE A BAT SONG. ALL OF THEM.

listen! listen!! literally every bat group song has been a hit they do not miss. bad ass temple funky sounds. kaigen. rip. awesome fucking party <- this has a different title in translation but i cannot ever remember it and always end up calling it something like this lol (it is apparently "hella awesome banquet" i had to look this up)

i guess. I GUESS. if i had to pick one. kaigen and rip would be slightly above the others because the live version of them are just so electric. the performances of the others have been really good as well! but kaigen and rip are special. and between the two of them... um... this is Difficult

i'm going with kaigen. but really. they are all amazing. hayama (kuko cv) just has the best stage energy ever

5) ok... so i'm giving it to rivals... BUT

man eliminating all members of bb/mtc truly cuts out so many tracks lol they are all over the place. off the block party album i would probably say my favorite (excluding the ichisama solos) is get busy (but alas jiro is in that) followed by shiro to kuro (but alas jyuto is in that)

SO fifth place goes to third place off the album.. rivals! it really is just such a fun song like you can't go wrong with a track where a line of the lyrics is literally "🥺🥺🥺🥺"

ON THE OTHER HAND I AM REALLY PARTIAL TO ONCE UPON A TIME IN SHIBUYA OR YOYOYOYO AS WE LIKE TO CALL IT and also torima get on the floor... and kizuato... and shibuya ghost night... and pink love... you guys know i was once an fp stan right lol

tl;dr IT'S TOO HARD I LITERALLY LOVE THEM ALL

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

-5- Compelled

As Dawn suspected she would, she missed her corps de ballet level performance. It wasn't the lead role, but she'd fought for her place on the stage and in the company. She'd beat out so many others for her spot and was proud, so it hurt her severely to miss out. Not to mention, she'd missed her plane back to the U.S. and was stranded in a foreign castle where every night she had to worry about death.

Every other evening was a banquet, and each time, she was cleansed, re-dressed, escorted, and protected by Deanna. Each time, Prince N'Jadaka would sit and stare, then disappear after he slit the sacrifices' throats. Where did he run off to? Why didn't he ever dance or drink with his people? Most of all, what did he want with her, and why was she still there?

"It's strange that you're alive and still unbitten," Deanna twirled a yellow flower between her fingers. She, Dawn, and Julip were in the garden to provide Dawn a change in scenery and some fresh air. "Anyone else would've been eaten at the first banquet if not on the spot."

"It's been a week of not dying, I don't know what the hell he's waiting on and if he calls me his pet one more time," Dawn sighed, weaving flower crowns in the lush green grass bursting with colorful wildflowers. She sat one over Deanna's hair. "Why am I being held like a prisoner when everyone here is stronger and faster than me? The fuck am I gonna go?"

"Did you see the way Abidemi was looking at you, waiting for us to leave you in the library alone?"

"When?"

"Yesterday. You didn't see her?" Deanna hadn't had a friend in decades and didn't anticipate her own protectiveness. She was unwilling to let anything happen to Dawn outside of the prince's doing.

"Of course you didn't see her. It's hard for the living to detect us. You wouldn't sense us if we didn't want to be sensed," Julip chimed, lying on his back. "If Deanna ever left your side, even for a second, you'd probably be dead. The impulse control with some of the newers is, as you say, shit."

"That's really what you think is gonna happen to me," Dawn asked directly. He slid a finger across his throat.

Dawn narrowed her eyes, contemplating giving him the crown she'd made for him. "Anyway. On top of that, I'm wearing dead people's clothes, isn't that some kind of bad luck?"

"Bad luck is what you're waiting on," Julip adds. "The prince is going to come to his senses, and you're going to be a mess that gets cleaned from the floor. That's how it goes."

"And if I don't die," Dawn challenged. "You'd better hope I'm not like you because I'll be annoying the shit out of you in revenge for the next twenty years."

"It's a matter of time. Enjoy this," he gestured to the field of wildflowers, "Because when the prince realizes you are not who he thinks you might be, you're dead."

"Who does he think I am?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm telling you not to form any delusions. When it's your time, die like the rest."

"I can't lie. It would be nice to have someone normal around," Deanna's face brightened.

"At least I'd have super strength," Dawn shrugged. "That ain't too bad."

"Don't be stupid," Julip blurted, sitting up. "Don't even entertain it. We're damned, Dawn." It was the first time he'd used her name. "I don't think you truly understand the magnitude of what I'm saying to you. I cannot die. I'll never see my parents or have children of my own. I'll never see the world beyond these trees. Do you think I'd ever choose this if I knew 104 years ago that I'd be a soulless parasite trapped in a prison for eternity? There's no reprieve. Do you think I wanna live like this? I do not breathe. I do not sleep. I do not shit. I don't make decisions for myself. I miss normal food, Dawn. I miss normal people! This isn't natural. We're dead. We should remain dead. We shouldn't be here!"

Deanna fell onto the grass to put a hand on his mouth. "You're going too far. We have our orders." He pushed her off.

"She needs to know. If she turns, this is what she can look forward to. Do you have family? Friends? Interest?"

Dawn nodded.

Dawn nodded.

"Even in death, you'd see them again. But if you come back, you never will. Do you control the simple things in your life? What you eat and when? Where you go? Where you sleep?"

"We don't. There is no 'No'. There is no hiding. Not even my mind is safe. I am a slave."

"Then help me go," Dawn begged, holding his gaze. "You said you don't make any decisions for yourself. Well, what if you could? Just once."

"We can't," Deanna stated, putting her foot down.

"I'd rather die," Dawn glared with conviction.

"The prince has sadistic ways of dealing with our kind, and we're all we have left," Julip clarified, but he didn't blink, and neither did Dawn. "If you get caught," he tested.

"If you're on the verge of a death and he offers you a cure?"

"Fuck a cure," Dawn spat.

"Julip, no!"

"Straight 10 miles to the big tree carved with our initials. Right until you hit the stream. Cross it. Walk 12 miles. Pass the clearing and the snake pit. Left at the cave. You'll die before you hit the stream."

Dawn took off before he could change his mind. She ran straight as fast and as far as she could for approximately 3 miles, rested, and then walked 3 miles until the light from outside of the canopy dropped making it nearly impossible for her to see her way through the dense trees. Her field of vision narrowed by 80%, and her speed reduced to a careful crawl as she cautiously combed through potential dangers. She'd never see the initials without light.

"Shit," she panted, looking back. The whole situation was fucked. She couldn't go back, but she couldn't go forward and risk falling into danger or missing the tree. She also couldn't hide or run if one of the hoard came after her. All she could do was hunker down in the open and wait for daylight, which was equally dangerous.

That's what she did.

Meanwhile...

Prince N'Jadaka had Julip detained deep in the castle dungeon where every bone in his body was repeatedly broken, allowed to heal, and then broken again. Semi, a trusted guard, was personally responsible for beating the afterlife out of insolent subjects who went against the prince. The screams of the woman in the green dress were loud in a neighboring cell.

"I compelled you and your moronic sister to keep that woman within your sight, and what have you done?"

Compulsion: The ability to control the mind of another through eye contact or verbal demands. Only Prince N'Jadaka is known to have this ability.

N'Jadaka was irritated, but more than that, he was curious. "What about her could cause someone as unspoiled and indifferent as you, Julip, to fight against compulsion," he questioned telepathically, looking deep into Julip's brown eyes while bending back and breaking his fingers one by one. "There must be a reason."

"She'll die quickly on her own like all other humans with no business in the woods," Julip groaned weakly, now under stronger compulsion. "I made a choice for the first time in a century. No one else will fall under the misery of your tyranny." His head dropped as N'Jadaka turned, leaving him to Semi.

N'Jadaka was no fool. He, too, had sensed something strange about Dawn. Something internal warned him that letting her perish would be a grave mistake, one that he'd regret. It was the reason he'd taken such an interest when she'd entered the forest. It was the sole reason he'd rescued her. He had his theories...

In the dark of night, the fearsome prince moved soundlessly through ancient and majestic trees, tall and dense. He knew every corner of the 3,258 mile rainforest, and Dawn was easy to track. She hadn't gotten far, just a few miles.

He kept his eyes on her, trailing from above until she settled on the ground with her back against a tree. It was a foolish place to make her bed. Hours slipped by, and she was wrapped in the silk of venomous tarantulas. They covered her from head to toe, yet she didn't feel it. He hated that about humans. Their incompetence, fragility, and lack of perception made it impossible for him to sympathize, but that same feeling in his gut told him to keep her alive. So he summoned his green parrots. They were compelled to roam the skies and serve as his eyes. They circled above her, swooping down to snatch, eat, and intimidate spiders. When Dawn did wake, she wasn't afraid.

The song of insects was alive with the chirp of crickets. The starlit leaves of vines and bushes reflected the changing blues from the sky peaking through branches that stretched like fingers. The morning was starting to break.

In a single leap, his heavy body rustled the leaves up high like wind. He was as a bird on the branch, a ghost floating above. He followed her, watching as she tiredly ran. He saw the joy on her face as she reached the big tree, a marker for the path Julip gave her. There were several ways out depending on where you were going, some more dangerous than others. Her route was short by comparison, but dangerous, and Julip was correct. She'd never make it.

It took her a full 14 hrs to get to the stream where she collapsed, nearly sticking her head under the water. He forgot she needed to eat and drink. It was also too hot for her. She'd been sweating and breathing heavily. But night had come, and it was time for her to find a place to settle.

So then why wasn't she? Instead of stopping, she stepped into the stream, assuming it to be shallow. She took three steps and dropped off of the underwater cliff into fifteen feet of moving water. She might have seen it in the light had she waited. The stream was 15 ft wide and 15 ft deep.

N'Jadaka's initial thought was to keep his distance. However, she had not returned to the surface. Maybe she couldn't swim, but who would venture so deep into the enchanted forest alone, crossing deep streams if they could not swim?

Dawn's tried to kick and swim toward the surface, but something had a firm hold on her ankle and pulled her down. The more she struggled to swim in a panic, the further and deeper she was pulled until her ankle was crushed.

Bimpe.

She felt teeth sink into her leg directly over her ankle, and she released the last bit of air she'd been holding in. She couldn't see a thing as the bloody water entered her lungs. She was drowning fast, and there was nothing she could do. Feeling another bite, she kicked weakly, losing consciousness, but just before she did, she saw a pair of chilling red lights in the dark.

N'Jadaka dove expecting to snatch Dawn from the waters and be done with it, but instead, his crimson eyes met the wide eyes of another vampire of his court.

"Bimpe," N'Jadaka seethed, telepathically warning the woman of the carnage that was to come. Neither Semi nor Huli were there to talk him down from it. As the prince, only HE could kill. Bimpe was dead within seconds, ripped with his bare hands into fleshy pieces floating to the bottom and shards of bone--decapitated with his fangs.

He noticed quickly what looked like decaying bodies down below, weighted down so that they could not float to the surface. The water was just murky enough to have hid them from him and the royal court.

He pulled Dawn up to the surface. Her heartbeat was feint, and she was not breathing. She was also badly bitten. He had a choice to make: Leave her, and she'd die. Indulge in her blood, and she'd die. Convert her, and she'd be his unwilling slave for all eternity like everyone else. Or something he'd never done... Heal her completely and release her. He could send her back to her own time and society.

For that, he'd have to draw out the venom. He'd never attempted. The only thing he could think to do was to bleed her and deliver her his blood in the seconds before she died or else she'd just die or turn. So that's what he did.

What he did know was that he could make her comfortable by sharing just enough of his blood to heal her wounds, but he had to be cautious not to give her too much. A drop would do. It was something he'd learned as a child. A quick cut with his nail across his wrist yielded the one drop that dripped onto her tongue. Instantly, he saw the difference in her health and appearance.

The sound of cracking wood sent him back into the trees to observe a small jeep of men riding through. He recognized the jeep as he'd seen their partners in the forest many times through decades of drug, human, and rare animal trafficking. Their blood all had a similar taste. Subpar, but edible. He had subjects to feed, and quantity sometimes was better than quality.

He prepared to sweep in and take them, like a hawk watching its prey, but he stopped when he witnessed their attempt to revive Dawn. It was rare that humans would do anything that was not self-serving. Curious, he watched as they breathed into her mouth and pressed her chest, relieving her body of excess water. With their prodding and his blood taking immediate effect, she eventually came to.

Exposing his presence from the tree branches, he jumped fifteen feet down and landed on his feet a yard ahead of the jeep causing it to smash in as though wrapping a metal pole when they attempted to run him over. The jeep buckled, injuring the passengers, but he hadn't moved nor did he have a scratch.

They took her with them as they continued, but in the wrong direction. They were taking her further into the forest, toward their own camp. He could hear her feint plea to be left alone go ignored as they spoke of selling her. She'd have been more afraid had she understood their language, but N'Jadaka understood, and it was just as he'd thought.

No one would miss these men.

He looked down at himself in irritation. If anything, Bimpe had gotten his favorite snow-white kaftan all wet and bloody. She deserved to die again if only he could.

Emerging from the wreck, the bruised and bleeding men who could still run, fled the vehicle, calling him the Cursed Prince as they scattered in fear. He didn't pursue them immediately since he knew where they'd go. Instead, he picked up the equally bruised and unconscious Dawn and delivered her himself to the edge of the forest as far as the barrier would allow him to go. Gently, he laid her where she was sure to be discovered in the day by tour guides.

"Return when you're well, pet," he whispered, brushing her face as he embellished the positive memories of her forest experience and dulled the negative. "Remember me in the best light. I've yet to know if my theories are true." Unconscious, his words would take hold in her even stronger than if she were awake. She'd return whether it was 1 year or 30, and he had nothing but time to wait.

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