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slytherinslut0 · 7 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter One. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: Sub/Dom, Toxic Behaviour, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Begging, DubCon, CNC.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

You were a good girl, and an exemplary student. One who consistently demonstrated exceptional discipline and commitment. Your dedication to academics was unwavering, as you diligently followed the rules and guidelines, never straying from the prescribed path.

Your singular focus was on nurturing your intellectual curiosity, and you showed no interest in indulging in activities that might distract you from your educational pursuits. Your life was calm, quiet, and focused.

Until, one day everything fucking changed.

———

In the enchanted realm of Hogwarts, there resided a studious and exceptionally bright seventh-year Ravenclaw witch, known for her unwavering dedication to academics and her steadfast commitment to the noble pursuit of knowledge. This young sorceress, a paragon of virtue, refrained from the temptations that often lured her peers, steering clear of parties, alcohol, and the haze of smoke that veiled the Ravenclaw common room during clandestine gatherings.

Her life was meticulously ordered, her goals sharply defined. But the universe had a curious sense of humor, for it threw her into an unexpected affiliation with the most notorious bad boy in Slytherin:

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He, the embodiment of rebellion, was a stark contrast to her pristine existence. Mattheo's reputation preceded him: a Slytherin troublemaker, one who was almost always found in the midst of chaos. His devil-may-care attitude was a challenge to authority, and there was not one singular individual that could tie him down.

Yet, fate had woven their paths together, forcing the astute young witch to confront the complexity of human nature, unraveling layers of his defiance while simultaneously testing the boundaries of her own steadfast resolve.

And that witch; that poor fucking witch--well, that was you.

———

"Please, Riddle...if you'd take a seat," you ran your tongue along the backside of your teeth, straightening your posture in your chair as you tried to contain your irritation. "...I must express my desire to commence our endeavors prior to the conclusion of the academic term."

"Eager, are we?" Mattheo sneered, sauntering toward the desk painfully fucking slow. "You know, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is mastery. I'll sit when I'm fuckin' ready to sit."

His voice was low, the sadistic drawl of his tone making your bones ignite with fury. Gods, he certainly fucking loved testing you.

"And I won't tell you again...call me Mattheo."

You inhaled a sharp breath, flattening out your blue uniform skirt against your thighs as you bit your tongue hard enough to make it bleed.

"Rome may not have been built in a day, but it certainly collapsed in one--now, I won't ask again, Riddle..." you looked up, meeting his dark obsidian eyes, fighting back a sadistic smirk of your own as he narrowed his gaze in challenge. "Take. A. Seat."

The words were clipped behind your teeth with an obvious urgency that shut Mattheo up for a few seconds, the gears turning inside his head as he contemplated how he could one up your little jab--a constant occurrence that seemed to happen every single fucking time you met with him.

At this point, your tutor sessions were an easy seventy percent bickering with the remaining thirty being a half-assed session of one-sided discussion where he mostly offers you fleeting blank stares while zoning you out. You hated that you'd agreed to this, but you knew you needed to get on (and remain on) Professor Dumbledores good side if you wanted a career here at the school after you graduated--and you were so fucking hungry for it you'd do almost anything to solidify your fate.

Even if it meant surrendering your sanity to the hands of Mattheo fucking Riddle.

You chose not to let him, of all individuals, tarnish your path. Your reputation, fragile as it may have been, resembled a tinderbox, and he was the combustible element, ready to erupt at any given moment. This resolve became your steadfast anchor, shaping the direction of your choices.

"You know," Mattheo said as he finally slumped down into the chair across from you, his tousled brown hair falling effortlessly over his forehead. "I was under the impression that the brilliant Ravenclaws such as yourself valued intellect over impulsive haste..." he tilted his head, his gaze scanning every movement of your body as you stared at him. "It was my understanding that impatience was more of a Gryffindor trait."

Your fingers trembled with palpable irritation, yet you understood the imperative need to suppress it. You couldn't afford to reveal just how deeply he affected you, realizing that acknowledging it would subject you to endless taunts and jibes, a fate you were determined to avoid at any cost. This restraint became your shield in moments such as these.

"You wish to discuss house values, Riddle?" You tilted your head, straightening out your posture once again. "Because I, in complete honesty, was under the impression that Slytherins were known for their resourcefulness...your reluctance to cooperate suggests a rather curious lack of ambition."

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, his expression growing icier. "Resourcefulness doesn't mean blindly following every stupid instruction thrown at you, and ambition means choosing the battles worth fighting, not wasting time on pathetic, trivial matters."

With a subtle smirk, he leaned back, hooking his arm on the back of his chair as he eyed your discomfort--seemingly undisturbed by your challenge--and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, somehow knowing he wasn't finished.

And of course, he wasn't. "If you really believe this seemingly-stubborn insistence on when or if I sit reflects a lack of ambition, you clearly misunderstand the depths of Slytherin cunning. We pick our battles wisely, and right now, this isn't one of them."

Your blood pressure surged, the crimson currents in your veins reaching their boiling point. Months of enduring relentless bickering and one-upmanship had pushed you to the edge--this man may be an utter degenerate but he certainly knows how to use his mouth when it matters. You could no longer bear the weight of this incessant game, and in a fleeting moment of frustration, you finally succumbed to the pressure.

You knew this was your breaking point.

"I'm just trying to fucking help you." You said, before you even realized you had. You hardly ever cussed, never out loud--that is. "If you don't want to be here, then get out. I promise you, you won't be hurting my feelings if you do."

He huffed, leaning forward and crossing his hands together on top of the desk as he wet his stupidly plush lips, a devilish grin swallowing his cheeks while he revelled in the fact he'd so clearly fucking won. Yet again.

"No," he said. "I don't think I will."

You clucked your tongue, irritated even further at his response, gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly before you rolled your eyes--brushing off his suffocating arrogance and pulling your textbook out of your bag, slamming it down on top of the desk between your bodies.

"The Grimoire of Arcane Relics?" Mattheo read the title out loud, voice laced with a confused, almost offended undertone. "We don't cover this until the middle of second term..."

You cocked an eyebrow. "And?"

"Seems a bit...hasty, to shove this down my throat so early on," his voice carried a sadistic drawl that nearly made you leap across the desk and choke him unconscious. This man knew how to fucking test you. "Would it not be far more beneficial to proceed in the order the books are taught?"

You drew in another swift breath, the fabric of your navy robes clinging to your form, trembling fingers smoothing out any wrinkles on your button-up blouse as you adjusted it.

"I was unaware..." you said, not bothering to look up. "...that the individual I'd be tutoring this term was in fact a professor, and not a seventh year student..." you glimpsed him now, offering him merely but a slight tilt of your head as you watched his jaw tense. "...I must have been ill-informed, do pardon my ignorance."

"A moment of self-awareness? What a fucking breakthrough for you, Raven...pity it took you so long." He was clasping his hands together on top of the desk with enough force to involuntarily crack his knuckles. "Maybe there's hope for you yet, though I wouldn't hold my fucking breath."

"Please don't," you said, teeth gritting. "We wouldn't want to deprive your already-oxygen-starved brain of any more, now would we? It needs all the help it can get."

Mattheo's gaze sharpened, his lips curving into a teasing smirk, highlighting the scars that adorned them. The effect he had on you was undeniable, a sensation you longed to dismiss more than anything. However, with every passing moment in his presence, resisting the pull of attraction became an increasingly futile endeavour--yes, he was suffocatingly arrogant, but Gods, he was fucking attractive.

And he knew it.

"Quite the fucking mouth on you, I'll admit..." he dropped his voice to a low whisper, so deep it practically rattled your bones as it vibrated through you. "Never met a Ravenclaw with such an attitude problem...maybe I could tutor you on how to fix that issue, once we're done here, of course."

Your stomach twisted, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire. Curse him and his painstakingly arrogant charm. Curse him to bloody hell.

"It'd be a cold day in hell before I take any sort of guidance from you, Riddle..." you whispered, your voice accidentally reverberating as a seductive pitch. "And even then, I'd probably still refrain."

"You don't know when to shut the fuck up, do you?..." his eyes darkened, an evil mischief crawling its way through his irises. "What would daddy Dumbledore think about the way you're speaking to me, huh?"

Your heart stalled. "I-"

Your words faltered as Mattheo stood up, moving leisurely like a predatory creature circling its prey, until he was right beside you. His eyes, sharp as daggers, bored into your skull, and he loomed over you, a sadistic smirk twisting his lips into a cruel curve. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, knotting your stomach with an unsettling mix of fear and desire.

He placed a singular hand on your desk, leaning down closer to your level. "Perhaps I pay him a little visit...perhaps I tell him that you've been missing lessons, that you've been extremely unprofessional...perhaps I somehow fail my next exam...perhaps-"

"Okay, okay!" You panicked, cutting him off. "You've made your point, Riddle...I'm sorry, okay?" The words were fucking painful as you forced them past your teeth, and you swallowed your ego, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Let's just get this over with, please?"

Mattheo huffed, gratified by how effortlessly his threats appeared to compel your submission. The gears turned in his head as he grasped the extent of the power he truly wielded over you. He fully understood that your entire post-graduate career almost certainly depended on his decisions, and he was eagerly anticipating taking action.

"I like the way you say please..." his voice was breathless, his dark eyes consumed by something you couldn't really identify as he slumped down in the chair directly next to you, his sight never once leaving yours. "Do it again."

Your body tensed, immobilized as he inched closer, his penetrating eyes scrutinizing your features with intense focus. It was no secret that Mattheo had been oblivious to your existence until he was placed under your guidance--despite being the most popular Slytherin student in the school, you, a practically invisible Ravenclaw, were easy to overlook. It had taken him over three weeks to even remember your name, a fact he never bothered to acknowledge, let alone use.

But within that time frame, within the time you'd been tutoring him; as much as he drove you mentally fucking insane, you couldn't deny that every time he'd show up for lessons with torn knuckles, cut lips and alcohol radiating from his breath--you couldn't help but to feel something in the pit of your stomach.

Whether that sensation was disgust, arousal, or sheer terror, you couldn't quite pinpoint. It was a feeling that whispered in your veins, urging you to surrender to the dominance he held over you. It screamed for you to let him have his way without resistance, because just as he commanded your obedience, he wielded the same control over the entire damn school. The prospect of defying him felt like a dangerous game you weren't willing to play.

"Riddle-"

He tilted his head, his face dangerously close to yours now, his eyes peering into your soul as he stared. As he wet his lips, his breath turning shallow, you felt a feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach, and one between your thighs as well.

"I said, do it again." His voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his eyes studying you as though you were a page of a textbook. Not that he'd ever read one of those. "Go on, Raven...beg for me..."

Your breath hitched, and you involuntarily clutched the edges of the wooden chair between your fingers with an indescribable force. You didn't want to admit it--not to Mattheo, not to anyone really--but you were a virgin. You'd never even kissed a boy; your entire life was devoted to your studies...so this...this was extremely fucking new to you.

When you remained silent, Mattheo's eyes darkened even further, turning a shade of obsidian so intense they put even the stormiest midnight skies to shame.

"You want me to keep your perfect little reputation intact, hm?" He breathed, leaning closer. "You want me to help you stay on Dumbledores good side?"

Your throat was more arid than the desert, and you nodded, unable to blink--unable to peel your fucking eyes off of him.

"Then do as I say..." he murmured, a large battered hand finding purchase on your thigh, your entire body involuntarily flinching at the foreign contact. "I want to hear you, Raven."

You stared down at his hand resting lazily over the fabric of your blue uniform skirt--it's massive size swallowing up almost the entirety of your thigh, calloused palm catching on the pleats as it slid upwards, agonizingly slowly--and when he paused, stretching his fingers around the diameter of your thigh the best he could, fingers digging into your flesh as he squeezed; you gasped, involuntarily, and he huffed--bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"One more chance..." he purred, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips. "You won't like what'll happen-"

"Please!" You snapped, squeezing your thighs together out of pure desperation. "Please, Mattheo...please, let's just get this over with..."

"Mm." He hummed in satisfaction, slowly pulling his hand off of you. "That's fucking right..." he murmured, warm breath tickling your ear. "Nothing is sweeter than your submission, Raven."

You swallowed, not daring to look at him, nodding your head frantically in response as he pulled away, slumping back in the chair--not once peeling his eyes off of you, spreading his legs way-too-fucking wide as he made himself comfortable--he was silent, now, watching your chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, watching the way you squirmed in your chair at his sudden dominance--a dominance that had an effect on you that you couldn't even begin to describe.

And then, before you could even realize what was happening, Mattheo leaned back in, his fingers gripping your jaw and tilting your face towards his--and as you meet his dark, intoxicating eyes, your lungs stalled, entire body shrinking in your seat as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he could see right through you.

"From now on, I'm in charge here," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Understand?"

You swallowed the lump of anxiety in your throat, and watched his darkened amber eyes as they glanced over your lips, lingering there for far too long, before returning back up to meet your gaze--something swimming in his irises that made your stomach twist.

When you were silent, he tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Yes." You squeaked, voice barely audible. "I understand."

He hummed, a devilish smirk crawling across his lips, fingers digging into your jaw with added pressure as he pulled you closer, lips so close you'd touch with a deep enough breath.

"Understand, what?" He breathed, eyes dipping over your lips yet again. "Say my fucking name."

"Mattheo..." you couldn't breathe, couldn't move, could only obey his words as though he was controlling you like a puppet on strings. "I understand, Mattheo."

He huffed, smirking. "Good girl, Raven..." his voice was a mere breath as it left his lips, his full lashes fluttering as he blinked, meeting your eyes. "You learn so quickly...I should have done this months ago..."

When he pulled back, slowly releasing you, air slowly returned to your lungs; not enough to rid the dizziness from your brain but just enough to keep you conscious. Mattheo turned toward the desk now, as though nothing even happened, gesturing for you to start the lesson.

And somehow, you did.

—————-

Chapter two->

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theprettynosferatu · 1 year

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A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

I - The Heroes

Luna MacKleere didn’t like the word “Rebel”. She was one, to be sure, but in her mind the term evoked anarchy, disorder, chaos. Maybe it was her past life as an Imperial officer, or maybe it was just the way she was wired, but Luna felt sometimes clear order was a necessity. The Rebellion had a chain of command, but it was a tad… diffuse. For all its virtues, the Rebellion often fell short in the “getting things done” category: strategy meetings could become endless debates in the name of equality and freedom of expression. To Luna, a little hierarchy didn’t necessarily become tyranny.

She was well aware of her reputation within the base. Humorless, strict, cold. She didn’t much care. She got things done, as the events of the day had proved. A screen lit up letting her know the newly-minted Heroes of Korriban would arrive shortly. The base was buzzing. She wasn’t upset because she had been the one to discover the Imperial outpost in that barren planet, planned the surprise strike, organized the entire operation: it was natural for the pilots and boots on the ground to get the glory. What irritated her was that for a good three hours or so nothing of real use would be accomplished as the new Heroes celebrated their triumph. Oh, well. She supposed it would be a morale boost, at least.

She did the best she could to tune out the cheers, the laughter, the singing. Luna wondered how the old Jedi had been able, if the stories were true, to keep their emotions always under control. Given how her chest pounded with irritation, she figured she wouldn’t have made a good Jedi even if she had been born hundreds of years before.

Eventually a knock on her door broke her out of such dark contemplations. She looked around to make sure everything was presentable: the room was both her command center and her bedroom. The base had been built with haste and stealth in mind, and living comfort had been sacrificed to keep it compact. Deciding the place looked respectable, she let the visitor in.

Kara Nalls was barely out of her teens; like so many in the rebellion, she was an orphan of the war the Empire waged against independence. Luna took pride in knowing the names and stories of everyone under her command. She wished Kara would get a bit more confidence, though. Even then, the petite blonde was almost shaking, dataslate in hand.

“What is it, Kara?”

“Ma’m, I have the manifest of liberated weapons, supplies and equipment right here. A full report should be made… uhm… later. Oh, and there’s… this”

Kara produced a small, black cube.

“We don’t know what it is, Ma’m. If it’s a container, there seems to be no way of opening it. But the boys say it was heavily guarded, so perhaps it might be of importance”

Luna took the dataslate and gestured for Kara to leave the box on her desk. She could look at it later.

“Thank you, Kara. Please make sure our esteemed warriors write proper reports when they’re done being tonguebathed by the entire base”

The rude words almost made the younger rebel recoil, but she caught herself.

“Yes, Ma’m”

“Is there anything else?”

“No, Ma’m”

“Then go out there and enjoy the party. I appreciate you taking the time to bring me the data”

“Thank you, Ma’m”

Kara almost skipped away to rejoin the celebration. She wasn’t the worst, but still needed discipline. They all did. Luna tried to put her mind out of the racket outside her door. She decided to enable communications and send the manifest to her rebel contacts. It was always a risky thing, for signals could be intercepted, traced: that was the reason only two people on base knew the codes to engage the transmitters. Sure, Luna could have waited until the full report was ready and sent everything together, minimizing risk; but she needed to focus on something, anything to dull the annoyance inside her. As the transmission happened, she idly looked at the black cube on her desk.

No, it wasn’t just black. It seemed to absorb all light, to pull it within itself and capture it to never be released again. Luna felt discomforted by the small accursed thing. What in the galaxy could it be? Well, whatever it was, she didn’t want to see it on her desk. She picked it up to put it away…

She couldn’t be sure, but for a second something like a sigil appeared on it, bright red. It was a flash, and then it was gone. Before Luna could process what she had seen or if she had indeed seen it, the box opened without a sound, its top moving on unseen hinges. Inside was something beautiful.

It shimmered copper and ruby, calling to her from within its nest of fathomless darkness. It was obviously valuable, and should be reported to the rest of the rebellion. That was the obvious, ethical, logical thing to do. However, Luna found herself hesitating, bound by a shapeless feeling at first, one that soon wormed its way into her head and solidified into words. Did the rebellion really need whatever the necklace could be sold for? Would it truly be so harmful for Luna to keep it for herself? After all, wasn’t the rebellion all about freedom? And more importantly, didn’t Luna deserve it? She was the reason the base got anything done, after all. Hell, even the celebration taking place was thanks to an operation she had planned, based on information she had gathered! But were people thanking her? Did they dance for her? Did they kiss in secluded hallways for her? No. She deserved a reward. Results had to be rewarded, that was the very basics of management. And no one would know. She alone had seen what the box hid. She had spent two years away from any luxury, working ragged, cramped inside a base that gave her little to no privacy or room, eating rations and wearing sensible, resistant clothing. She had almost forgotten how she looked, how she could look when she paid attention to her appearance. She had sacrificed so much… of course she deserved a little treat, a little beauty in her life. It was so obvious.

When she put on the necklace, she felt as if life was returning to her body. It felt so good to finally do something not for the rebellion, not for the fighting men and women, but for herself. And it looked good. It looked so perfect on her… too bad her clothing didn’t really do the necklace justice.

Well, she did have a few outfits saved for special occasions…

II - Confidence

It felt good to be out of the sensible white and brown clothes. Sure, it was cold. Sure, her formal dinner dress was hardly practical in case of a sudden attack. No, Luna didn’t care. She loved the way she looked, with flowing red silk, high-heeled boots and a generous cleavage that showed the pendant in all its glory. It was as if she was rediscovering a part of herself she had long left behind. She had been desired, once. Before the Empire. Before she broke away from it. Before uniforms became her default attire. Yes, she had been desired in her home planet. The scion of a wealthy House, fabled for her beauty and wit. She had wanted to escape that. That’s why she had enlisted in the Officer Corps. To spite her father. To get away. Now, she couldn’t remember why she had ever felt being the center of attention was a bad thing.

And oh, all eyes were on her, alright. Most looked at her as if they were seeing her for the first time. In a way, they were. Even she had forgotten how… impactful she could be when she chose to use her looks as a weapon. She felt like a conquering queen… or a predator on the prowl. Everyone around her looked so small, so weak, so pliable. Was this the rebellion? Was this the force that would topple an Empire? She felt as if she could just… take whoever she desired. Take them to do what? She couldn’t say. Hurt them? Use them? Motivate them?

Yes, perhaps motivation was needed. Confidence. They seemed so… run down. Luna knew the best leaders led by example. Well, she could be that example. She could show them all the passion the sorely lacked, the drive to victory that seemed so alien to them. Suddenly, there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. If the rebellion was to have any chance of success, she would have to teach them to take what they wanted, to fight and manipulate and feel the drive to grasp victory by any means necessary. Ambition. Yes, that’s what they lacked. Well, she’d teach them ambition.

Someone caught her eye. Tadriec was staring at her. Tadriec. Thin as a reed, obedient and respectful to a fault, generally looking like a little desert mouse caught in a trap. Was he a virgin, Luna wondered. She couldn’t imagine him doing anything but staring at any object of desire from far away. In a way, that was the rebellion right there. Too shy, too meek, too willing to settle for small victories. Well, if Luna was going to show them a new way… what better place to start than small, frail Tadriec?

“Tadriec, come with me”

“Why, me, ma’m? I… uh…”

The man was about to start shaking. He looked like the very picture of pathetic meekness. For a moment, Luna felt like striking him across the face, or digging her nails into his skin, just because she could, just because he would do nothing about it. Weakness invited abuse: was it any wonder the Empire regularly abused the people under its control? It was a two-way path: yes, the tyrant is terrible, but those too weak to stand up for themselves invited and enabled that tyranny. Perhaps a more hands on example was in order.

“Just be silent and follow me”

“Yes ma’m”

As the door to her quarters slid shut, Tadriec started mumbling in fear.

“I… uh… if you need anything, I… if I may, the door…”

“Tadriec, be quiet”

“Yes, ma’m”

Luna leaned on her desk, letting sensuality flow out of her. She could almost see it, a black and red tendril enveloping the poor, weak rebel.

“Look at me, Tadriec”

“I… I can see quite clearly. Uh, I don’t believe I’ve seen that… attire before, ma’m. It is quite beautiful; is there a ceremony or…”

“Look. At. Me. Tell me, Tadriec, what do you desire?”

“Desire?”

“Yes. What do you want? What would bring you joy, satisfaction? You are aware with the concept of desire, I presume”

“I… of course. I’m nor sure what… well, if I could… uh… I suppose victory over the Empire would make me happy. Peace would make me happy”

“Oh, how very noble of you. Allow me to be more specific. Do you desire me?”

“Uh, I… desire… uh… I’m not sure I understand the…”

“Do you desire to take me? To take this body and use it however it may please you? To make me go on my knees and take you in my mouth, to bend over like an animal in heat and let you mount me, pull my hair, make your every fantasy real? Do you desire to fuck me? To fuck me hard, take out all your frustrations and emotions and passions on me?”

The man’s next words would be inconsequential, Luna knew. His body already spoke volumes about how he felt, even if he wouldn’t dare say it out loud. She amused herself, watching him shifting uncomfortably, trying in vain to hide a bulge in his oh so sensible rebel uniform. This has to be how a Krayt Dragon feels before devouring their prey, she thought.

“I… I’m not sure it’s appropriate to… uh… I mean, you do look… quite attractive, but…”

“You desire me. Every movement you make screams it. You need to make me yours. My question is: why don’t you? Why are you so afraid to simply… take what you want? Why not turn me around, pin my hands on this desk? Why not push me up against the wall? Why not make me an object for your pleasure?”

“I… uh, that’d be… that’d be wrong! Wrong and… and inappropriate, and…”

Wrong. How would it be wrong to follow one’s heart? Luna couldn’t fathom the reasoning, and found herself with little patience for it. Fuck it. Time for a practical demonstration. She leapt out of the desk and took a few steps, until she could feel his nervous breathing on her face, their lips almost touching.

“I am your superior in command”

“Y-yes”

“Then you will do as instructed, is that clear?”

“I… yes ma’m”

“Then I’m instructing you to bend me over, lift my dress and plunge your cock inside me as hard as you can. Make it passionate. Make it hurt, if you want. But do it!”

He was too gentle. Far too gentle. He turned her around, carefully, almost shaking. He used minimum pressure to push her head down. Even now, even as he should be overcome with pure lust, he takes care of her, makes sure she is comfortable. Such a disgrace. Sheer weakness.

“Fuck you, Tadriec! Stop. Holding. Back! Are you such a coward? Such a useless pussy? Take it all out on me… you resentment… your fear, your anger, everything! Use me just as an object for your pleasure! Stop denying yourself what you deserve!”

Luna gasped as she felt him go inside her. Part of it was the rather unexpected size: she never would have imagined the skinny rebel packed such a… remarkable member. But what truly got to her was the feeling of it all. She couldn’t quite explain it, but there was a point, a very detectable moment when she felt the man’s emotions… burst forth.

It was unexpected and it was intense and it was intoxicating. Rage and lust and hatred so vivid she could almost taste them. The feelings washed over her, sending shivers all through her body, robbing her of the ability to speak, to do anything but moan and drool and cum, over and over again, all control long gone.

By the time she managed to regain some notion of herself, she was feeling his cum sliding down her thigh, panting on her desk. Shit. A woman could get addicted to such feelings.

III - Just a Dream

She’s standing in a dark place, an old place. A place of evil. She knows this, and it scares her. Statues seem to rise up to the stormy sky, and she’s aware of ruins, of ancient temples so deep and twisted a man could walk in and never walk out. There’s a way out of this place, this much she knows; but it’s cloudy, hidden in mists and creeping shadows. It’s terrifying how this place whispers to her. How it wants to feel like home.

But Luna has home, doesn’t she? She can’t remember. It’s hard to focus. Everything seems so distant now, like her life is hidden behind veil after veil after veil… She does have a notion, a barely formed sensation that she has made a mistake recently, a horrible and…

She feels it creeping up her leg, igniting her skin with a million sensations, a million passions. No, no, no… this is the mistake, she knows it. It’s coming for her. It will devour her, shift her, twist her if she allows it. She tries to run away, but it’s there and not there; a physical being and a manifestation of something monstrous growing inside her… she can no more escape it than she can escape herself.

She has to resist. She has to find the light inside her, lest the darkness consume her, turn her into someone she wouldn’t even recognize. But it’s so hard to find the willpower… so hard when the dark tendrils make her body feel so alive, so intense, so… eager. No. She has to…

It reaches between her legs, and she’s vaguely aware she could perhaps stop it, if she was strong enough. Is she that weak? Or is it that she doesn’t want to be strong anymore? A moan escapes her lips as her pussy twitches in pure, undiluted pleasure. It’s wrong. She has to hold back. She has to resist, to fight, to…

Why? Why not give in?

Did she think that? Did the darkness think it for her? She can’t tell. She feels herself accepting it more and more, letting it explore her deeply… her pussy, her ass, her tits… her body is just a vehicle for pleasure, for power, for…

No, she’s so much more than that! She’s a kind person, a rebel, a fighter for freedom…

Does she want to be all that? Or does she want to be something else entirely? She can’t say anymore. It just feels too good… too good to think… too good to resist…

Fuck it.

And with that thought, the darkness enters her fully.

IV - Improvement

Luna McKleere woke up with a purr. She stretched in her bed, letting the air caress her skin. She felt sensitive and strong and… hungry. Not for food, of course. The rations on the base were anything but appetizing. But the base itself… well, she was the most important person in it, was she not? After all, if she wasn’t around, nothing would ever get done. In that sense, wasn’t it her base? Her dominion? Her responsibility and her property? She got up, determined to improve her base, even if she had to drag every single sorry mediocrity kicking and screaming towards something resembling strength.

She stopped in front of the mirror.

Perhaps she should have felt upset, or scared. Shocked, at the very least. Confused, certainly. Instead she didn’t feel anything but a simple, calm satisfaction. Before her stood an image she had never seen before, and yet felt oddly familiar. Her already dark hair had turned jet-black, with a strange blue-ish reflection, like the feathers of a fearsome bird of prey. Her eyes were still green, but when the light hit them just right they appeared to have an unnatural yellow hue to them. She wasn’t sure if her lips had become fuller or if they only seemed that way because of the confident, seductive expression she now wore. What wasn’t in doubt was the size of her chest: that had definitely changed. She shifted around, looked at herself from a few angles. She had to say, her new breasts were a definite improvement. Sex appeal was power, a power most people, weak-willed as they were, often found unable to resist. Besides, there was a certain beauty in knowing she could inflame passions and emotions by her mere appearance. The rebellion needed a bit more fire, a bit more blood in it… even if that blood was concentrated on rather specific body parts. Her legs were stronger too, more toned, ready to step on whoever got in her way.

All in all, her body felt like a tool, one perfectly designed for its purpose. And oh, did it have a purpose. The entire staff needed to change if the base was to have even a chance of achieving anything significant, anything beyond small raids on mostly abandoned imperial outposts. It needed to embrace greater ambition and be willing to take bigger risks. It needed to heed impulse, accept strength, forget mercy.

Every group had its leaders, official or otherwise. People who set the tone, the pace, the spirit of the endeavor. For the rebellion to change, the leaders would have to change. Luna decided to turn her base into a showcase, a template for the rest of the rebellion to follow. That meant summoning the leaders of her small base into her room. She would show them the way, and they in turn would push the new philosophy to the followers, the meek and spineless men and women that made up most of the fighting force.

They all stared at the floor, trying oh so hard not to glance at her new, improved tits, at the way she left her jumper’s zipper half-open to make them impossible to avoid. She felt nothing but a sickly contempt towards the men and the one woman before her. They were there, but were they actually there? They felt more like shadows, insubstantial, nonexistent. Luna felt something growing inside her. Hatred? No, not that. They were beneath that, they didn’t even deserve that much from her. Their weakness, their meekness, their lack of focus, of ambition… disgusting. They could be so much more, if only they’d let go of their stupid fetters of morality, of propriety, of the rules of engagement. They had passions inside them, buried so deep… if only…

The pendant felt warm on her skin, nestled between her breasts. She couldn’t explain it, but it was whispering. It was beckoning. It made her feel powerful. It made her feel like an uncaged beast… and she could tell the others were starting to feel it too. Their bodies told the story in a million small ways. A small shiver there. A discreet glance there. A conversation without words, the air around them almost vibrating. No, not a conversation. This was conversion. Luna could feel it between her legs, sense the blindfolds falling from their eyes, the repressed passions bubbling just under the surface, ready to guide them, to take control. An inescapable truth of the Galaxy was starting to take hold: the strong took what they desired, and deserved everything they took, because they were powerful enough to take it. That was it. A simple, elegant truth. Luna slowly pulled the zipper down. All eyes were on her now, shame long gone, replaced by a primal hunger. Yes, she could feel them… and it felt so good, their passion was like a million electrical pulses starting right in her pussy and coursing through her body. She moaned and let one of her hands wander inside her pants. They were at a tipping point. Her smile was the final push.

It was glorious, a symphony of grunts and they all lost control at once and tore off their clothes. The men were so big, towering over her, hungry expressions in their eyes. Finally. Strength. Something she could respect. Something she could… kneel for. Beside her, the other female rebel had gone on all fours, her head pressed on the cold, metal ground. Ready to be taken by those with the will to do so. And now the men had the will. Luna focused on worshiping their cocks, licking them and kissing them and using her new gigantic tits to jerk them off, letting the men use her as nothing more than a living sex doll. She moaned as a rebel thrust inside her fellow woman without mercy, without pity. She could feel it all, beyond physical sensations. She felt their lust and their frustrations and the anger they blew off using Luna’s mouth, her tits; using the other girl’s tight, eager holes. She was all of them. Fucking and getting fucked. Slave and master. She was attuned to the energies saturating the room, sending her deeper and deeper into a state of complete, savage pleasure.

At some point someone pushed her on her back. She was too far gone to fully register who. All she knew was she was being conquered, and it felt so fucking good… Her ass burned as a man rammed inside her with not care as to how she might feel, with hatred for all the bitchy things she had done, with rage and a red retribution. A hand shifted her head. The other girl was positioning Luna’s mouth, so that it may be used by a worthy cock. The girl’s eyes looked… delighted. Evil.

Luna shaked as cumshot after cumshot painted her skin, aiming for her face, her tits. It was suddenly so obvious. So simple. She knew it, and she sensed they all knew it now. She didn’t have to tell them. She managed to get on her feet, feeling their eyes on her. Strength was Right. Those who conquered deserved power. Power deserved more power. The Empire was powerful. The Rebellion was weak. Nature had to take its course.

She put in the code enabling communications and typed the coordinates to her own base in. She set the message to be unencrypted, ready to be picked up. She set it to repeat, over and over.

She fell on the floor, an orgasm racking her body and whatever was left of the rebel she had been. The Empire would come. They would take. They would conquer. Because they were stronger. Because they deserved to rule over the silly rebels who deluded themselves by thinking they had a chance. Now the truth would come.

They would all be fucked, as they should be. Maybe literally. Luna didn’t care. All she knew, and all everyone in the room knew was that the base would fall to its superiors. As nature intended. As for them… they would wait for their conquerors. They would wait on their knees. They would wait sucking and fucking and letting their passions run wild.

The pendant hummed. It knew better than anyone the power of power, the allure of conquest. And now, after centuries underground, it had found a vehicle to spread the truth. It would make sure Luna was spared. It had great plans for the young woman, after all.

Did you enjoy this story? You can support my work at patreon.com/prettynosferatu

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funny-bunny224 · 1 year

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Patience - Wednesday Addams x Reader (Blurb)

- Something you found endearing about being in a relationship with Wednesday is how slowly she likes to take things. It was a nice change of pace from all your exes, and you felt incredibly special to be the one she experiences her first relationship with. Despite having grown up with lovey-dovey parents, affection is not something that comes naturally to Wednesday, and you were more than happy to take things at a speed she was comfortable with. Patience is always a virtue, and it was very important to have it when loving someone like Wednesday. There had been many times you would notice her from the corner of your eye when walking the halls of Nevermore together, reaching out her hand and contemplating grasping yours before stopping short, letting it fall back to her side. Or maybe your eyes would lock in a fond stare when you were alone, her face beginning to inch ever so closely before she would back away at the last moment. She was prone to overthinking things, letting her calculating mind take her down a spiral of uncertainty and insecurity, and that was ever so obvious when it came to intimacy. You didn’t mind a bit, though. You would allow her to attempt affection as many times as it took her, letting her decide on her own when she was ready to reach out and take that first leap. In the meantime, you were more than content to just be by her side, spending quality time with her and basking in her presence as you know she did with you.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #netflix series #gender neutral reader #blurb #x reader #/reader

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dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year

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Natural Woman

Summary: Dean catches Y/N dancing and singing in their bedroom, and loves the show.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut and fluff - smuff. Fingering, slight edging, unprotected P in V sex, brief oral mentioned (m receiving), Tiny smidge of angst if you squint. Lots of fluff, lip-syncing and singing.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 1,401

A/N: The other day I was listening to "Natural Woman" by Aretha Franklin, and it made me imagine this little scenario, and the idea seemed to fit with Dean and Y/N from:

An Unreliable Reflection

and

Show and Tell

So, I wrote it as a little conclusion for them. (For now, anyway.) You don't have to have read the other two parts, but it will make this part more enjoyable and make the fluff more meaningful, so I encourage you to read them first.

The beautiful dividers below and at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89.

Main Masterlist || Tag Lists

Dean closed the thick, three hundred year old book, and slumped back in the library chair. He'd definitely read all he wanted to read for right now about the long history of pure blood werewolves in America.

He rubbed his hand across his eyes and then over his scruffy cheeks, his rough fingers making a scratchy sound against his day's growth of whiskers. He looked around and wondered where Y/N had gotten to. She'd tired of their study session before he had (an incredibly rare occurrence) and had left an hour ago. She’d leaned over the back of his chair to wrap her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek as she left.

"I'm gonna go do some laundry cause if I don't we'll both be going commando by tomorrow." She said as she stood up straight.

Dean had growled slightly and pulled her back down to kiss her more thoroughly and contemplate the fun torture he'd go through tomorrow if he knew the only thing beneath Y/N’s skirt was soft skin, and tantalizing, wet, heat.

But Y/N had pulled away from him, laughing, and rushed away before he could deter her from her task any longer.

Now, Dean pushed out of the chair and set out to find her and complete his mission to completely derail her chores.

She was no longer in the laundry room, so he set out for their bedroom. Y/N had officially moved into his bedroom a few months before, but in reality, she hadn't slept in her old room in over a year, since the night they finally admitted to each other how they felt, and Dean was able to make her understand just how hot she truly was, how desperately he wanted her, and how deeply he loved her.

The last fourteen months he’d been with Y/N, Dean had felt happier and more satisfied with his life than he had in decades. Granted there were whole portions of his brain dedicated to the fear of losing her and he'd spent the equivalent of months of time worrying that he was going to get her hurt somehow, or that someone or something was going to rip her away from him.

But he fought against all of it. He loved Y/N too much to be a coward. So, he forced himself to believe they had all of forever ahead of them and tried to just allow himself to revel in her love.

As he neared their bedroom door he could hear music pouring out. After listening for a moment, he recognized Aretha Franklin's full, slightly raspy vocals. The Queen of Soul was singing the virtues of feeling like a Natural Woman. With a wide smile, Dean pushed open the bedroom door and felt his heart lift and his body harden at the sight that greeted him.

Their bed was covered in half-folded laundry, and standing in the middle of the room was Y/N, lip-syncing into a hairbrush, clad only in a pair of pink-striped, boy cut panties and a white tank top. She was turned slightly away from him, so she didn’t see him immediately, but he could still make out every curve of her body, still see that her full breasts were obviously unencumbered by a bra, the dark outline of her nipple visible through the thin material.

Every inch of her was a mouth-watering temptation as she mouthed the lyrics.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me

Till your kiss helped me name it

Now I'm no longer doubtful

Of what I'm livin' for

And if I make you happy

I don't need to do more

As the verse ended, something alerted her to his presence, and she gave a small start, her hands flying to her chest for a moment, before the chorus hit, and she tossed her brush aside and, pointing at Dean, sang to him in full voice while her hips swayed mesmerizingly.

'Cause you make me feel

You make me feel

Like a natural woman

Dean's grin was wide and happy as he walked towards Y/N and pulled her into his arms to sway with her as Aretha's voice smoothed out into the slightly slower bridge. Y/N continued to sing the lyrics to him, her eyes shining up at him with the truth of the words.

Oh baby, what ya done to me

Made me feel so good inside

And I just wanna be close to you

You make me feel so alive

As Y/N sang to him, Dean slipped his hands down over her ass and pushed her tightly against the hard ridge of his cock through his jeans, making her gasp in the middle of a lyric. Which in turn, made Dean grin wickedly.

As the final choruses of the song played, Dean walked Y/N backwards to the bed, and then, with his hands on the backs of her thighs, he pulled her legs out from under her and tumbled her back onto the bed, making a mess out of the pile of clean laundry.

Y/N ended her singing with a squeal and a full-throated laugh. "You idiot!" She chastised breathlessly as Dean immediately moved his mouth to her breast, wetting her nipple through the thin cotton and feeling it pucker in his mouth.

"I'm gonna have to refold everything." She ended her complaint on a soft moan as Dean eased his hand under the waistband of her panties and dipped a finger into her folds to press perfectly against the button hidden there.

Dean ignored her concern and raised himself back up to her lips, kissing her deeply, sucking away her oxygen as he moved his thumb to take over the teasing circles against her clit, so he could push two fingers inside her slowly. The way her body responded, clenching around him and soaking his hand as he pumped in and out of her, had him moaning along with her.

Her flushed face and the little whimpers that were escaping her lips as he pressed on the soft, spongy spot inside her, drove him mad, and his body was aching to slam into hers and find his release.

But he was enjoying her pleasure too much, so he continued to tease her, repeatedly bringing her to the brink and then easing off. He watched her writhing beneath his hand, head pressed into the mattress, hands flailing slightly, and knocking clothes onto the floor, as she tried to grab onto something and tether herself to reality.

But Dean wanted her to lose that grip on the earth, and fall into the abyss. So finally, he pushed against her sweet spot over and over, sending her tumbling over the edge at last. As he watched her face spasm with electric pleasure, he couldn't stop himself from bucking against her hip.

And suddenly the need to bury himself to the hilt inside her was too overpowering and he ripped her panties off and wrenched his jeans and underwear down his hips.

He slammed into her as the last waves of her orgasm were rippling through her, hitting her g-spot with the head of his cock and pulling a scream from her lungs as she fell again, clenching like a vice around his cock and causing him to spill into her, hot and thick, after barely a half dozen thrusts.

Dean fell on top of her, loving the feel of her soft, supple body giving way beneath him.

When he could breathe again, he finally found the energy to roll off of her, but she just rolled with him, so that she ended up sitting astride him, their bodies still joined. His soft cock hardened slightly inside her as she rolled her hips against him.

Y/N dug her rounded fingernails into the muscles of his chest and made him harden further, and buck up into her.

He groaned desperately and bit into his bottom lip as his heart hammered against his ribs. "Jesus woman," he warned, gripping her hips tightly, "you tryna kill me?"

As Dean shouted out his pleasure, Y/N pulled off of him with a pop and licked her lips.

Y/N's smile was wicked and calculating as she climbed off him so she could slide down his body and take his cock into her mouth.

"Naturally."

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@deans-spinster-witch

@impalaslytherin

@maggiegirl17

@akshi8278

@candy-coated-misery0731

@nt-multi-fandom

@deanswaywardgirl

@slytherinlyn314

@globetrotter28

@jensensgirl

@perpetualabsurdity

@tristanrosspada-ackles

@djs8891

@muhahaha303

@kayyay1219

@emily-winchester

@recoveringpastaaddict

@maximumkillshot

@mimaria420

@sacriceria

@envyaurora95

@lacilou

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only.

@saikosheadcanons

@lgranger67

@carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

@sunshineandwings86

@kazsrm67

@sexyvixen7

@alexxavicry

@nancymcl

@spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@awkward-and-indecisive

@maliburenee

@supernatural4life2022

@spn730015

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@kickingitwithkirk

@waywardbaby

@foxyjwls007

@deanwanddamons

@deandreamernp

@deanwithscissors

@myloversgone

@snowlovespie

@leigh70

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world

@mysherlock221b

@jensensgotyoudean

@stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies

@magssteenkamp

@norman1967

@princessmisery666

@eevvvaa

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@b-i-t-c-h-i-e

@twirpbunwarrior

@mysweetlittledesire

@waynes-multiverse

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@bernasaurus

@jensenslady79

@courtn92

@avanatural

@ellie-andthemachine

@this-is-me19

@roseblue373

@katbratsupernaturalwhore

@fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean x plus size reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester one shot

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pemprika · 1 year

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hnk ch. 100 thoughts (spoilers)

Making a full-on separate post because I thought there was a lot to draw from in this recent chapter... I needed to document it, so here is my veryy long thought bubble on hnk 100:

The chapter felt like a depiction of Phos in transition to accepting themself and adapting to a new phase of peace that they hadn’t experienced before. While young Phos had a carefree life, they were perpetually stuck feeling useless, never satisfied with the way they lived, and gradually lost all their friends, selfhood, and purpose.

It’s a little difficult to emotionally match the pacing of the story considering how often the series goes on hiatus now, but note that Phos had only recently come to terms with their own flaws and the reasons why everything ended up the way it did. They had a wish to be happy, and meeting these lifeforms allowed them to realize the meaning of their existence and be more content with it.

That poetic verse was introspective and contemplative. Rather than placing worth based on certain levels, like the gems’ hardness levels or Lunarians’ caste system, these rudimentary rocks perceive that all life is made equal. For thousands of years, gems tied their own value to a designated role, and if they couldn’t fulfill it, they devalued their existence. We saw a lot of perspectives throughout Phos’ journey, including how Rutile “failed” as a doctor for being unable to fix Padapradscha on their own, or how Dia “failed'' to live up as a diamond with refined fighting skills compared to their rivaled counterpart. Again, these are just flawed traits passed down from their human predecessors and the curse of immortality.

The chapter ending conveyed a hopeful conception that all things, primitive or refined, come from the same place (nature). I struggled to connect the details mentioned in ch 97 before, but it gave us sooo much foreshadowing to this new world. Dr. Ayumu said that, “the inorganic things that we had been using for ourselves will soon have a world of their own'', alluding that these little guys that Phos met are the new world.

Interesting how Dr. Ayumu wanted Adamant to “build the bridge” and Phos to “burn the bridge” in order to create this “beautiful, rational world” to be a more freeing and less destructive place, and refresh the Earth to avoid relying on human values and qualities to stay self-fulfilled.

I was talking with @/mlkinis who brought up an interesting theory of using rocks in this new arc to symbolize the reversion of materialism. The rocks, elements derived from basic nature, have vastly different virtues compared to the gems, a class of refined minerals that developed a habitual routine of upkeep socially and culturally. While gems are also made from the Earth, they are perceived as high-value and are often polished to be artificially beautiful.

One Buddhist principle reflects on detaching oneself to worldly possessions and desires, such as wealth, in order to attain inner peace, and it seems that having these primitive rocks is a representation of Phos “letting go” of the gem society, which may be another way of showcasing that the world is returning back to life as the way it once was, and that Phos is on a path to attaining ultimate happiness. I’m wondering if Dr. Ayumu’s line, “When you cross that bridge, burn it” refers to Phos leaving their suffering behind as they’re going forth to being happy in this new world that is coming to be...

Anyway, upon reading the passage, along with meeting the sentient rocks and hearing its rock friend sing the verse, I felt like Phos reconciled with their own self and existence, and melted from feeling at peace 🥺😭!! Thank you, Ichikawa as always… This was a very cool and comforting chapter for me.

#hnk #hnk spoilers #hnk 100 #houseki no kuni #very very introspective read between the lines kind of chapter #thank you for reading!!#the pacing of the story has been a little wacky considering how many hiatuses it's been going through #you often forget the context of previous chapters... it can get a little hard to piece together #i'd love to hear other peoples' thoughts too =)

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mirisss · 5 months

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Path of Crowned Shadows

Vampire! OT9 SF9 x afab! reader

Soulmate, vampire au.

Wordcount ≈ 8.5k

Warnings: None I think,

Thank you for the request! And of course, I still write for Rowoon!

Bolded words are a skip in time or the start of a new chapter.

Third Person POV

In the shadowy expanse of the dark kingdom, where the moon held sway over the night, there resided nine vampire princes. These enigmatic beings were intricately bound together by the mystical influence of the moon, their destinies interwoven like the phases of the celestial orb that adorned the night sky.

Driven by an ancient prophecy, the nine princes embarked on a quest to find their elusive soulmate, the one fated to complete the circle of their existence and unlock the dormant powers within them. Despite the captivating allure of the dark kingdom, their search proved to be a seemingly fruitless journey.

As the cycles of the moon waxed and waned, the princes pressed on, fueled by an unwavering determination to fulfill their destiny. The dark kingdom held its secrets close, and only time would reveal whether the celestial dance between the nine vampire princes and their soulmates would ultimately illuminate the shadows or forever remain veiled in the enigma of the night.

Youngbin, the second oldest among the nine vampire princes, possessed a unique blend of strength, charisma, and a natural inclination for leadership. Despite being younger than Inseong, the eldest of the princes, Youngbin assumed the role of the group's leader and, by virtue of a peculiar twist in their heritage, was designated as the heir apparent to the throne.

His demeanor reflected a balance of regality and approachability, making him not only a respected leader but also a figure his brothers could turn to for guidance. Youngbin's eyes, a mesmerizing blend of deep amethyst and the moonlit glow held a spark of determination that mirrored the responsibility he bore as the leader destined to guide their kingdom.

Youngbin's powers were uniquely attuned to governance and protection. He could command the elements, creating barriers of shadows and manipulating the very fabric of the dark kingdom to shield it from external threats. His leadership extended beyond the physical realm, as he proved adept at navigating the intricacies of vampire politics and ensuring the cohesion of the princely brotherhood.

In the quiet moments of reflection, Youngbin would often find solace in the moonlit gardens of their castle, contemplating not only the challenges of their quest but also the responsibilities that came with his imminent role as king. The moon, a silent witness to his thoughts, seemed to offer both guidance and reassurance in the face of the unknown.

Inseong, the eldest of the nine vampire princes, stood at the forefront of their quest with a regal demeanor that reflected both centuries of existence and the weight of the prophecy that bound them together. His eyes, like pools of ancient wisdom, gleamed with a timeless knowledge that surpassed the mortal realm. As the moonlight bathed him in an ethereal glow, it also highlighted the solitude that lingered in the recesses of his gaze.

Inseong's powers surpassed many, a testament to the accumulated strength of centuries lived under the moon's watchful eye. He could manipulate shadows, command the night, and communicate with the nocturnal creatures that inhabited the dark kingdom. Yet, for all his might, the one power that eluded him was the ability to unveil the identities of their elusive soulmate.

In the quiet moments between their pursuits, when the moon hung low and the kingdom slept in an uneasy stillness, Inseong would gaze at the night sky with a contemplative expression. The stars, distant and unattainable, mirrored the essence of the soulmate they sought—shrouded in the vastness of the unknown.

Jaeyoon and Dawon, the third and fourth vampire princes in line, complemented each other in ways that mirrored the delicate balance between dusk and dawn. Jaeyoon, with his captivating charm and beguiling aura, was a master of illusions, able to weave shadows into illusions that confounded and intrigued. Dawon, on the other hand, possessed a unique connection to the natural world, with the ability to manipulate flora and fauna at will.

Jaeyoon's powers of illusion made him a valuable asset to the group, capable of creating diversions and concealing their movements as they traversed the dark kingdom. His silver hair, like moonlit strands, framed his face in an otherworldly elegance, and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he navigated the shadows with an enigmatic grace.

Dawon, in contrast, had a deep affinity for the living realm. He could coax flowers to bloom in the moonlight, summon creatures of the night to aid their cause and draw strength from the very essence of the earth beneath their feet. His connection to the natural world brought a sense of vitality to the group, a reminder that even in the darkest of realms, life could flourish.

The bond between Jaeyoon and Dawon was as inseparable as day and night. Their complementary abilities often intertwined, creating a synergy that enhanced their effectiveness as a duo. In the moments of stillness, they would share quiet conversations beneath the moonlit canopy, reflecting on the journey and the mysteries that surrounded their quest.

As the group ventured deeper into the heart of the dark kingdom, Jaeyoon's illusions wove a protective veil around them, shielding the princes from prying eyes and malevolent forces. Dawon, in turn, would breathe life into the desolate landscapes they encountered, a testament to the enduring power of nature even in the face of darkness.

Zuho, the fifth vampire prince and known as the "dark one" within the kingdom, carried an aura of mystery and intensity that set him apart from his brothers. His icy glare, often accompanied by a stoic demeanor, earned him a reputation that echoed through the shadowed halls of the dark kingdom. Yet, beneath this façade of darkness, Zuho harbored a profound yearning for the love that the prophecy promised—a yearning that ran deep in the veins of his immortal heart.

His powers were as formidable as his reputation. Zuho commanded the element of ice, able to freeze time itself with a mere glance. The chill of his presence sent shivers through the hearts of those who crossed his path, reinforcing the moniker bestowed upon him by the kingdom's inhabitants. Yet, in the solitude of his thoughts, Zuho wrestled with the duality of his nature—the chilling exterior that concealed a warmth he dared not show.

Zuho's gaze, sharp as the moonlight reflecting off icy landscapes, held a complexity that mirrored the struggle within him. The shadows he cast were both a shield and a prison, a defense mechanism born of centuries spent navigating the intrigues of the vampire realm. Yet, as the moon waxed and waned, so did the longing in his immortal soul for a connection that transcended the cold solitude he had grown accustomed to.

On the moonlit nights, when the kingdom lay in a hushed slumber, Zuho would find himself standing on the parapets of their castle, gazing out into the vast expanse of the darkened landscape. His thoughts, like the swirling snowflakes around him, danced between the desire to embrace the warmth of love and the fear of exposing vulnerabilities that had long been buried in the frost of self-preservation.

Among his brothers, Zuho remained an enigma—a puzzle with edges that hinted at both strength and fragility. The other princes sensed the depth of his yearning, the silent plea for understanding and acceptance that echoed in the icy corridors of his heart. Yet, the path to unraveling Zuho's true self-proved to be as treacherous as the frozen landscapes he could conjure with a thought.

Rowoon, the sixth vampire prince, walked in the footsteps of Zuho, creating a striking contrast that seemed to embody the duality of their immortal existence. If Zuho was the embodiment of darkness, Rowoon emerged as the radiant counterpoint—the prince known for his charming and warm looks that endeared him to the inhabitants of the dark kingdom.

Tall and commanding, Rowoon possessed an otherworldly allure that drew eyes like moths to a flame. His golden hair, reminiscent of the sun's glow at dawn, framed a face that radiated kindness and approachability. His eyes, pools of warmth, held an innate ability to dispel the shadows that clung to the kingdom, earning him the affectionate moniker of the "light bringer" among the subjects.

Rowoon's powers were attuned to healing and restoration. He could mend wounds with a touch and infuse the air with an invigorating energy that dispelled the weariness that often accompanied their quest. His presence, like a beacon in the night, brought comfort to his brothers and a sense of hope to the kingdom that lingered in the perpetual embrace of darkness.

The dynamic between Rowoon and Zuho was a fascinating interplay of opposites. While Zuho's gaze could freeze time, Rowoon's smile had the power to thaw even the coldest hearts. Their connection, akin to the delicate balance of night and day, added a layer of complexity to the brotherhood, highlighting the diverse strengths that each prince brought to the collective journey.

Despite their differences, Rowoon and Zuho shared an unspoken understanding that ran deeper than the superficial contrasts in their appearances and abilities. In the moonlit nights, when the kingdom lay still, they would find moments of quiet contemplation, reflecting on the intricacies of their intertwined destinies and the significance of their roles in the prophecy.

Taeyang, the seventh vampire prince, brought a unique passion to the brotherhood—one that transcended the mystic powers and political intricacies that surrounded their quest. His heart resonated with the rhythmic beats of dance and the moon's warm glow served as both witness and inspiration to his profound yearning.

His name, meaning Sun, captured the essence of his vibrant spirit. Taeyang's movements were a fluid expression of grace and power, a dance that mirrored the celestial dance of the moon and the stars. His dark hair, like cascading shadows, framed a face adorned with the glow of someone who found solace in the rhythm of the night.

Taeyang's powers were intricately linked to his affinity for dance. As he moved, shadows swirled around him, creating ephemeral patterns that captivated the eyes of those fortunate enough to witness his artistry. His dance was not only a form of self-expression but also a means of channeling the very essence of the dark kingdom, infusing the air with a magical energy that resonated with the moon's warm embrace.

The moon, with its silver radiance, became both a muse and confidante to Taeyang. Under its watchful gaze, he would lose himself in the rhythmic flow of his own movements, imagining a future where he and his soulmate would dance together, creating a symphony that echoed through the darkened realm.

Among his brothers, Taeyang's passion for dance added a dynamic layer to their collective journey. The moonlit nights transformed into impromptu stages where the vampire prince would weave his spells, inviting his brothers to join in the celestial dance that bound them together.

Hwiyoung and Chani, the eighth and ninth vampire princes, brought a youthful energy to the brotherhood, their presence a reminder that even in the timeless realm of immortality, the essence of youth and discovery remained. Despite being the youngest, they carried a weighty responsibility as integral pieces in the celestial puzzle that bound them together.

Hwiyoung, with his tousled silver hair and mischievous eyes, possessed an affinity for the winds that whispered through the night. His powers allowed him to command the air, creating gentle breezes or powerful gusts that carried the secrets of the dark kingdom. His playful spirit added a lighthearted touch to the group, a refreshing breeze amidst the shadows.

Chani, on the other hand, was a creature of the moonlit forests. His connection to nature surpassed even that of Dawon, as he could communicate with animals and navigate the dense woodlands with an almost supernatural intuition. Chani's eyes, reflecting the deep hues of the nocturnal landscapes, held a wisdom that defied his youthful appearance.

The duo of Hwiyoung and Chani, inseparable like the moon and the stars, brought a sense of camaraderie and exploration to the brotherhood. Together, they discovered hidden pathways through the kingdom and reveled in the enchanting mysteries that lurked in the corners of their world. Their laughter echoed through the moonlit nights, a testament to the enduring spirit of youth even in the midst of their quest.

In the grand scheme of their quest, Hwiyoung and Chani, like the final strokes on a canvas, added a sense of completeness to the brotherhood. The moon, their ever-watchful companion, observed the unfolding destinies of the vampire princes, each step bringing them closer to the revelation of their soulmates and the fulfillment of the prophecy that bound them as one.

In the outskirts of the small town, nestled in the shadow of the dark kingdom, lived a girl by the name of (Y/n). Her humble existence unfolded in a small, weathered house, where she shared the simple comforts of life with fellow orphans from the town. The flickering candlelight and the warmth of shared stories painted the walls of their modest abode with a sense of camaraderie and resilience.

(Y/n), with her expressive eyes that mirrored the myriad hues of the moonlit night, navigated life with a quiet strength that belied her circumstances. Her days were filled with the simple joys of laughter and shared meals, and the nights brought the solace of a sky adorned with stars that seemed to echo the tales whispered by the elders of the town about the mysterious dark kingdom nearby.

Living on the outskirts allowed (Y/n) to catch glimpses of the kingdom's enigmatic silhouette, its dark spires reaching into the night sky. The tales of the vampire princes and their quest for soulmates were woven into the fabric of the town's folklore, a source of fascination and trepidation for the orphans who dared to dream beneath the moon's silver glow.

Among her fellow orphans, (Y/n) stood out as a source of comfort and inspiration. Her resilience in the face of adversity and her ability to find joy in the simplicity of life endeared her to those around her. As the moon cast its glow upon the outskirts, (Y/n) would often find herself gazing toward the dark kingdom, a spark of curiosity flickering in her eyes.

As (Y/n) went about her days, weaving the threads of her existence with those of her fellow orphans, the moon continued its watchful vigil over the unfolding tale. The dark kingdom, with its mysteries and the nine vampire princes bound by destiny, loomed ever closer, casting its enigmatic influence on the small town and the girl who lived on its outskirts.

The news of the impending arrival of the nine vampire princes stirred a mixture of excitement and trepidation throughout the small town. Whispers of their quest, their otherworldly powers, and the elusive search for soulmates spread like wildfire, casting a magical anticipation over the community.

As the summery day unfolded, the air buzzed with palpable energy, and the townsfolk couldn't help but feel the magnetic pull of destiny drawing near. The sunlight bathed the cobbled streets in a warm embrace, casting a golden hue over the town that contrasted with the mysterious shadows of the approaching dark kingdom.

In the outskirts, where (Y/n) lived with the other orphans, a sense of wonder mingled with the everyday routines. The small house, usually filled with the comforting sounds of shared stories and laughter, hummed with an added sense of anticipation. The orphans exchanged eager glances, their imaginations ignited by the prospect of encountering beings from the fabled dark kingdom.

Preparations buzzed throughout the town as its inhabitants readied for the arrival of the vampire princes. Merchants adorned their stalls with vibrant colors, flowers bloomed in window boxes, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the air—a collective effort to welcome the enigmatic guests with open hearts.

The summery day turned into a hazy evening, and the town's folk gathered in the central square, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns and the flickering anticipation of the impending arrival. The air shimmered with excitement, and whispers of hope and curiosity echoed beneath the moonlit sky.

The rhythmic sound of horse hooves hitting the ground echoed through the town, gradually growing louder until it became a steady and distinct beat. As the anticipation peaked, nine silhouettes emerged on the horizon, riding toward the town on majestic steeds. The moonlit night unveiled the figures of the vampire princes, their dark cloaks billowing in the night breeze as their horses gracefully carried them forward. The townspeople, collectively holding their breath, watched in awe as the nine mysterious figures drew nearer.

As the nine princes approached, the air became charged with a blend of curiosity and reverence. Rowoon, with his radiant charm, indeed drew the gaze of many despite his cloak covering his face, and the young girls couldn't help but marvel at the reality of the living legend before them. The collective heartbeat of the town seemed to synchronize with the hoofbeats of the approaching steeds, creating a harmonious symphony that underscored the significance of the moment.

The nine princes came to a graceful halt in the center of the town square, dismounting from their steeds with an otherworldly elegance. The small crowd hushed in anticipation, watched as the princes lowered their hoods one by one, revealing features that seemed to transcend the mortal realm.

Inseong, stood with a regal poise, his gaze sweeping over the assembled townspeople with a wisdom that spoke of centuries lived beneath the moon's watchful eye. Beside him, Youngbin exuded a calm confidence, a leader born of both authority and compassion.

The other princes followed suit, revealing faces that held a unique blend of mystery and allure. Jaeyoon, Dawon, and Zuho each bore expressions that hinted at the complexities beneath their exterior. Rowoon, with his warm and charming looks, smiled gently as he observed the townspeople.

Taeyang, the dancer, moved with a fluid grace that seemed to echo the very essence of the moonlit night. Hwiyoung and Chani, the youngest, exuded an energetic vibrancy that added a touch of youthful exuberance to the group.

As the princes faced the townspeople, their piercing eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a connection that would fulfill the prophecy. The air, charged with the unspoken hopes of the townspeople, crackled with a sense of destiny unfolding.

The townspeople, caught in the collective gaze of the vampire princes, held their breath as the celestial search began. Whispers rippled through the crowd, speculation and excitement intertwining in the moonlit night. Each prince, in his own way, sought the elusive soulmate who would complete the cosmic puzzle that bound them together.

In the midst of the town square, (Y/n) felt a mix of nervous anticipation and quiet curiosity. The gaze of the vampire princes, each with a unique allure, seemed to linger on the faces of the townspeople, a silent search for the one whose destiny would intertwine with theirs.

The moon, casting its ethereal glow upon the scene, bore witness to the unfolding drama beneath its celestial canvas. The small town, caught between the realms of ordinary life and the extraordinary fate promised by the prophecy, awaited the moment when the threads of mortal and immortal destinies would finally entwine.

A moment of quiet despair settled among the princes as their piercing gazes scanned the townspeople, and the weight of an uncertain future pressed upon them. The air, thick with anticipation, carried an undercurrent of melancholy as the possibility of not finding their soulmates loomed.

Yet, just as a shadow falls across a sunlit path, a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught the attention of the vampire princes. As their eyes swept over the crowd, the shadows seemed to part, revealing a figure standing at the back of the gathering. (Y/n), hidden from their direct sight, had inadvertently caught the attention of the princes through the revealing dance of the shadows.

The townspeople, unaware of the unfolding drama, continued to exchange hopeful glances, oblivious to the profound moment that hung in the air. The princes, guided by the serendipity of the shadows, felt a sudden surge of energy as their eyes locked onto the girl who stood at the periphery of the crowd.

At that moment, the world seemed to be still. The moon, the silent witness to the cosmic dance, bathed (Y/n) in its silver glow, casting her in a radiant light that captivated the vampire princes. The revelation unfolded like a dream, and the connection between the princes and the hidden girl felt palpable as if destiny had guided their eyes toward an undeniable truth.

The air shimmered with newfound hope as the princes, driven by an instinct that transcended the ordinary, began to move toward the back of the crowd where (Y/n) stood. The townspeople, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, turned their attention to the unfolding spectacle, their murmurs of anticipation giving way to a collective realization that something extraordinary was taking place.

As the princes closed the distance, the shadows continued to weave their silent narrative, revealing the connection that had eluded them moments before. Destiny, it seemed, had a way of illuminating the path even in the darkest corners of the unknown. And in that moment, beneath the watchful gaze of the moon and the curious eyes of the townspeople, the nine vampire princes and (Y/n) stood on the threshold of a fate that would bind them together in an immortal dance written by the hand of destiny.

(Y/n), standing at the back of the crowd, felt a mixture of confusion and bewilderment as the nine princes, guided by an unseen force, began to move in her direction. The sudden attention, the weight of their collective gaze, left her feeling like the epicenter of a cosmic shift she couldn't comprehend.

The whispers and speculations of the townspeople reached her ears, adding to the surreal atmosphere that surrounded the unexpected turn of events. (Y/n)'s eyes darted between the advancing princes, each step they took amplifying her sense of disorientation.

As the princes closed the distance, their eyes, filled with an intensity that bordered on recognition, seemed to lock onto her. (Y/n) questioned the nature of this inexplicable connection, her thoughts racing to catch up with the unfolding reality. Why had the attention of the vampire princes turned toward her?

The moonlit night, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a silent witness to a mystery that eluded her understanding. The shadows, playing tricks with the light, seemed to dance around the princes and (Y/n), casting an ethereal glow on the scene.

Among the townspeople, a murmur of curiosity rippled through the air. The small community, caught in the currents of destiny, watched with bated breath as the princes and (Y/n) stood on the precipice of a revelation that promised to rewrite the narrative of their lives.

In the midst of confusion, (Y/n) couldn't escape the feeling that she had become a central figure in a tale that transcended the ordinary boundaries of her life. The questions lingered, and as the vampire princes drew closer, the answers seemed poised to unfold beneath the watchful eye of the moon, the silent orchestrator of a celestial dance that defied mortal comprehension.

In the moonlit glow, Youngbin, with an air of regal charisma, extended his hand toward (Y/n), breaking through the veil of confusion that enveloped her. As he stood in front of the much shorter girl, his eyes held a warmth that contrasted with the initial intensity, and a genuine smile graced his lips.

With a gentle gesture, he introduced himself and his brothers, each prince revealing a unique presence that mirrored the diverse facets of the moonlit night. Youngbin's voice, a soothing melody that resonated with authority and kindness, echoed through the square as he spoke of their quest.

As the introduction concluded, Youngbin, still extending his hand, looked at (Y/n) with a sincerity that transcended the supernatural circumstances. "And what might be your name?" he asked, his gaze inviting her to step into the unfolding tapestry of destiny.

(Y/n), still bewildered but feeling a sense of reassurance in Youngbin's presence, took his extended hand with a small nod. Bowing respectfully, she introduced herself, "I am (Y/n)."

As (Y/n) took Youngbin's extended hand, an inexplicable spark ignited within her, a sensation that resonated with a force beyond her understanding. The touch, seemingly ordinary, carried a subtle current that whispered of connections woven by the hands of destiny.

Her world shifted when Youngbin, with a sincerity that mirrored the glow of the moon above, revealed a revelation that echoed through the quiet town square. "(Y/n)," Youngbin began, his gaze unwavering, "you are our fated soulmate,"

The words hung in the air, carrying a weight that transcended the ordinary. (Y/n), caught between the realms of disbelief and destiny, processed the profound declaration. The townspeople, overhearing Youngbin's words, fell into a collective hush as they witnessed the unfolding of a tale that defied the boundaries of their understanding.

The moon, casting its ethereal glow, seemed to intensify its radiance as if acknowledging the significance of the moment. The shadows, playing their silent dance, whispered secrets that only the celestial realm comprehended.

As the realization settled within her, (Y/n) met Youngbin's eyes, searching for confirmation in the depths of his gaze. The connection between them, sparked by the touch of their hands, resonated with the unspoken threads of destiny that bound the vampire princes together.

The small town, now a stage for an extraordinary chapter in the tale of the nine princes, held its breath as the cosmic dance of fate unfolded beneath the watchful gaze of the moon. In that moment, (Y/n) stood at the intersection of two worlds, her ordinary existence now intricately intertwined with the extraordinary destiny that awaited her and the vampire princes.

The weight of Youngbin's revelation hit (Y/n) with such force that she felt the ground shift beneath her. The shock nearly caused her to lose her footing, and she stumbled, the world tilting on its axis. However, before she could fully lose her balance, Jaeyoon, with reflexes as quick as moonlight, appeared by her side in an instant.

His strong and steady presence became her anchor, and Jaeyoon's supportive grasp ensured that (Y/n) regained her balance. The touch, though brief, carried a comforting reassurance, as if the vampire prince, with a silent understanding, sought to ease the overwhelming impact of the revelation.

"(Y/n), are you all right?" Jaeyoon asked with genuine concern, his eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and curiosity. The townspeople, still caught in the collective hush, observed the unfolding scene with a sense of awe and wonder.

Taking a moment to compose herself, (Y/n) met Jaeyoon's gaze, a myriad of emotions swirling within her. The reality of being the fated soulmate of the nine princes began to settle, and the cosmic significance of the moment lingered in the air.

The moon, a silent witness to the unexpected turns of fate, continued to cast its glow upon the small town square. The shadows, now holding a different resonance, danced around the group, adding an ethereal quality to the unfolding drama.

As (Y/n) steadied herself, the realization of her newfound destiny intertwined with the journey of the vampire princes. The moonlit night, once ordinary, had become the stage for a tale that would leave an indelible mark on the quiet town and the girl who stood at the center of a prophecy that transcended the boundaries of mortal understanding.

Inseong, with the authority befitting the eldest of the vampire princes, raised his hand, dismissing the rest of the crowd to allow him and his brothers some private time with their newfound soulmate, (Y/n). The townspeople, a mixture of awe and curiosity, began to disperse, giving the group of vampires the space they needed.

However, a handful of curious onlookers, drawn by the mysterious allure of the vampire princes and the unfolding saga, hesitated to leave. They lingered at the edges, attempting to catch a glimpse of the extraordinary encounter between the immortal beings and the girl who held the key to their destiny.

Among those who lingered, some tried to push the boundaries of Inseong's order, perhaps fueled by a desire for proximity to the supernatural spectacle. This disobedience didn't sit well with Zuho, the "dark one" of the vampire princes, who sensed the treacherous undertones in the lingering presence of the onlookers.

Zuho, with a stern expression and an icy glare that matched his reputation, decided to take matters into his own hands. In a swift and almost imperceptible motion, he summoned the power of ice, causing an ephemeral frost to trail from his fingertips. The temperature dropped, and a chill permeated the air, sending shivers through the lingering onlookers.

The sudden manifestation of Zuho's powers, coupled with his intimidating demeanor, sent a collective shudder through the crowd. The frost danced in the moonlit night, a warning that echoed the boundaries set by the vampire princes. The lingering townspeople, now thoroughly spooked, scattered like leaves in the wind, yielding to the will of the supernatural beings in their midst.

With the unwanted spectators dispelled, the town square returned to a semblance of calm. The vampire princes, flanked by the enigmatic presence of (Y/n), were left with the solitude needed for a conversation that would unravel the intricacies of the prophecy and the destinies entwined in the moonlit night. The moon, casting its serene glow upon the scene, bore witness to the unfolding tale that danced on the edges of the extraordinary and the ordinary, a tale that defied the boundaries between the mortal and the immortal realms.

Feeling the sudden drop in temperature induced by Zuho's display of power, (Y/n) couldn't help but shiver in response to the chilling atmosphere that surrounded her. The unexpected frost in the air sent a wave of cold through her, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself, seeking to ward off the sudden chill.

Noticing her discomfort, Hwiyoung, the gentle and breezy vampire prince, reacted with swift kindness. Without hesitation, he removed his cloak and, with a graceful motion, draped it around (Y/n). The fabric, imbued with the essence of Hwiyoung's powers over the winds, enveloped her in a cocoon of warmth.

"There, that should help," Hwiyoung said, his voice carrying a soothing quality that echoed the breeze. The cloak, with its ethereal touch, seemed to respond to the elements under his command, creating a pocket of comfort for (Y/n) amidst the lingering traces of frost.

The gesture didn't go unnoticed by the other princes, each of them keenly aware of the small yet significant interactions unfolding in the moonlit night. The group, now standing in a more secluded part of the town square, prepared for the conversations that would shape the next chapters of their intertwined destinies.

As (Y/n) stood enveloped in Hwiyoung's cloak, the warmth and protection it offered became a tangible symbol of the bond forming between the vampire princes and their fated soulmate. The moon above, a silent witness to the ebb and flow of emotions, continued to cast its serene glow, setting the stage for the unraveling tale that lay ahead—a tale in which the ordinary and the extraordinary danced in harmony beneath the celestial canvas.

As the moonlit night embraced them in a quiet solitude, (Y/n) found herself standing with the nine vampire princes, a question weighing on her heart that she couldn't ignore. In the hushed stillness of the moment, she mustered the courage to voice the inquiry that lingered in her mind.

"What does it mean to be your soulmate?" she asked, her voice a gentle yet earnest murmur beneath the night sky.

The princes, their expressions a blend of ancient wisdom and contemporary curiosity, exchanged glances as if silently communicating the gravity of the question. Inseong, the eldest, stepped forward, his eyes holding a depth that spoke of centuries lived beneath the moon's watchful gaze.

"To be our soulmate," Inseong began, his words measured and resonant, "means that your destiny is intricately tied to ours. It means you hold the key to unlocking the dormant powers within us, powers that, when united, can reshape the very fabric of our existence."

Youngbin, with his charismatic presence, continued the explanation. "It means that, together, we fulfill a prophecy that binds us as one. Your connection with each of us is unique, and through that connection, the magic that resides within can be awakened."

Hwiyoung, ever attuned to the winds of change, expressed, "Being our soulmate means becoming a part of a cosmic symphony, where each note, each thread, contributes to the grand design of our shared destiny."

Chani, with his connection to the natural world, added, "It means finding harmony not just with us but also with the elements that surround us, a balance between the supernatural and the ordinary."

In this exchange, (Y/n) gained glimpses into the complexities of the prophecy, each prince offering a piece of the puzzle that was their shared destiny. The moon, casting its silvery glow upon the group, seemed to listen to the unfolding dialogue that would shape the path ahead.

As the explanation unfolded, (Y/n) absorbed the weight of her role in this cosmic narrative, her ordinary existence now intricately woven with the extraordinary destinies of the nine vampire princes. The moonlit night, witness to their revelations, held the promise of a journey that would transcend the boundaries of the known and venture into the realms of magic, fate, and the timeless dance of the celestial.

Dawon's words echoed through the moonlit night, each syllable carrying the weight of an eternal promise. As the youngest among the vampire princes, his expression softened with a sincerity that transcended the ages.

"It also means," Dawon continued, his voice gentle yet unwavering, "to spend the rest of our lives together, an eternal bond of love."

The revelation hung in the air, a profound declaration that resonated with the timeless nature of the vampire princes' existence. The moon, casting its ethereal glow upon the gathering, seemed to embrace the weight and beauty of the commitment being offered.

The other princes, their eyes reflecting the depth of emotions that accompanied Dawon's words, nodded in agreement. In that moment, the small group stood at the threshold of an extraordinary journey—a journey that would unfold not just beneath the moonlit sky but across the vast expanse of time itself.

"(Y/n)," Taeyang spoke, "you are the missing piece in our eternal puzzle. The completion of our bond heralds an ageless love that transcends the boundaries of mortal understanding."

As the revelation settled, (Y/n) felt a mixture of awe and trepidation. The prospect of an eternal bond, a love that spanned lifetimes, held both the allure of the extraordinary and the weight of profound responsibility.

The moon, now a silent witness to the unfolding vows, continued its watchful gaze. The vampire princes and (Y/n), standing beneath its silvery glow, became a testament to the enduring power of love that, like the moon itself, wove through the tapestry of time, leaving an indelible mark on the pages of an immortal tale.

With the weight of the eternal bond and the unfolding destiny settling in the air, (Y/n) decided to lighten the atmosphere with a question that hinted at the practicalities of their newfound connection. A playful smile graced her lips as she inquired, "So, will I be moving to your castle, or are you all planning to live in my small town?"

The question brought forth a chorus of chuckles from the vampire princes, a welcome respite from the weighty discussions of destiny and eternal bonds. Each prince exchanged amused glances, their laughter reflecting the camaraderie that existed among them.

Chani, spoke with a twinkle in his eye, "Well, (Y/n), the castle does have a certain timeless charm, but we are more than willing to adapt to the comforts of your small town if that's your preference."

Youngbin, with his charismatic presence, added, "After all, the magic lies not just in the grandeur of castles but in the simple joys of everyday life."

The other princes, in turn, expressed their willingness to embrace the lifestyle of (Y/n)'s town, acknowledging that the choice was a shared one. Jaeyoon, with a warm smile, mentioned the appeal of a close-knit community, while Dawon playfully commented on the prospect of exploring the town's charms.

Zuho, known for his icy demeanor, surprised everyone with a teasing remark, "Who knows, perhaps the 'dark one' might find warmth in the quaint corners of your town."

Rowoon, with his charming demeanor, chimed in, "Whether castle or town, our home is where our soulmate is."

The playful banter continued, creating a lighthearted atmosphere amidst the profound discussions. The moon, still casting its serene glow, seemed to appreciate the balance between the weight of destiny and the joy found in the simplicity of shared laughter.

As the vampire princes and (Y/n) stood beneath the moonlit sky, the question of where their shared journey would unfold became a topic of mutual consideration. The choices ahead, whether within the walls of a castle or amidst the familiarity of a small town, reflected the harmonious dance of the extraordinary and the ordinary—a dance that would define the chapters of their eternal bond.

Youngbin's words, infused with the weight of responsibility as the crown prince, conveyed the practical necessity of returning to the castle. The reality of ruling a kingdom required their presence in the realm they governed. As he spoke, there was a sincerity in his gaze that sought understanding, recognizing the potential complexities that such a decision might carry.

"However, truthfully, we must return to the castle. We cannot rule the kingdom from here. Will you come with us?" Youngbin's question hung in the air, carrying the weight of the choices that (Y/n) now faced.

(Y/n), with a thoughtful expression, considered the implications of such a decision. The life she had known in the small town, with its simplicity and shared moments, tugged at the strings of familiarity. Yet, as she reflected, she found no binding strings that tethered her to the town. The unfolding connection with the vampire princes, the promises of an eternal bond, and the destiny that awaited seemed to beckon her toward a path that transcended the boundaries of her ordinary existence.

In the quiet moments that followed, Youngbin's gaze held a blend of anticipation and respect, recognizing that the choice was a significant one. The other princes, standing beside him, awaited (Y/n)'s response with a mixture of curiosity and understanding.

As (Y/n) pondered the question, the moon, the silent witness to the ebb and flow of destinies, continued to cast its gentle glow upon the scene. The night, pregnant with possibilities, held the promise of a journey that could unfold within the storied walls of a castle, where the echoes of their shared destiny would resonate through the corridors of time.

The decision, a pivotal moment in the tale that bound the vampire princes and (Y/n) together, awaited a choice that would shape the course of their eternal bond.

With the weight of the decision hanging in the air and the moon casting its serene glow upon the scene, (Y/n) took a moment to contemplate the choices before her. The prospect of life within the castle intertwined with the destiny of the vampire princes, and the responsibilities that came with ruling a kingdom were not decisions to be taken lightly.

After a minute or two of thoughtful consideration, (Y/n) looked at the vampire princes, her eyes reflecting a newfound determination. With a soft yet resolute voice, she answered, "Yes, I will come with you."

The words, like a gentle breeze, carried a promise that resonated with the destiny written in the stars. The vampire princes, their expressions a mix of joy and gratitude, exchanged glances that spoke volumes about the significance of (Y/n)'s decision.

Youngbin, the crown prince, nodded with a sense of responsibility fulfilled, recognizing the gravity of the commitment. The other princes, each harboring their unique connection with (Y/n), welcomed her decision with a shared understanding that their shared journey was set to take a new and extraordinary turn.

As (Y/n) stepped into the path of the unknown, the moon above seemed to smile upon the gathering, casting its approval upon the choice that would shape the destinies of mortals and immortals alike. The night, now filled with the promise of a shared future, stood as a testament to the enduring power of love and the harmonious dance of ordinary and extraordinary moments beneath the watchful gaze of the celestial realm.

And so, the vampire princes and their fated soulmate embarked on a journey back to the castle, where the tapestry of their eternal bond would continue to unfold in a tale written by the hand of destiny.

Taeyang's thoughtful inquiry about (Y/n)'s belongings, met with her admission of only having a handful of half-broken clothing, prompted a kind and considerate response from the gentle prince. "We'll make sure you have everything you need," he assured, a warmth in his eyes that mirrored the promise of care and provision.

Jaeyoon, known for his charming and affable nature, leaned down and whispered in (Y/n)'s ear. His voice, a soft murmur against the backdrop of the night, carried a reassurance that hinted at the opulence awaiting her in the castle. "At the castle, you'll have the most beautiful things and clothes," he shared, his words weaving a vision of a life beyond the confines of the small town.

The prospect of a new beginning, adorned with the luxuries and splendors of the castle, brought a glimmer of anticipation to (Y/n)'s eyes. The contrast between her humble belongings and the promise of a life filled with opulence seemed to symbolize the transformative journey she was about to undertake.

As the vampire princes and (Y/n) prepared to leave the small town behind, the moon, casting its silver glow, bore witness to the exchange of promises and the anticipation of the extraordinary destiny that lay ahead. The night held the echo of whispered assurances, the rustle of cloaks, and the collective heartbeat of those bound by the threads of an eternal bond.

The journey back to the castle, where the vampire princes and their soulmate would begin a new chapter, unfolded beneath the celestial canvas. The night, with its mysteries and promises, embraced them in its tender embrace, marking the commencement of a tale that transcended the boundaries of time and mortality.

As the decision was made to begin the journey back to the castle, the vampire princes, with an air of purpose, started to mount their horses. In the midst of this organized activity, Zuho, the "dark one," extended his hand toward (Y/n). The gesture was an unexpected yet graceful invitation—a hand offered not just in assistance but in a shared journey.

Zuho's icy gaze softened for a moment, revealing a depth of consideration and perhaps a hint of the vulnerability beneath his stoic exterior. The hand he extended toward (Y/n) held a silent promise of companionship on the path that lay ahead.

With a small yet appreciative smile, (Y/n) accepted Zuho's hand. His touch, surprisingly gentle, conveyed a silent understanding that transcended words. With his guidance, she mounted the horse behind him, finding herself positioned to ride alongside the "dark one" as they embarked on the journey back to the castle.

The other princes, mounted on their steeds, glanced back with smiles that held a mix of camaraderie and anticipation. The moon, now a celestial companion to the riders, continued to cast its ethereal glow upon the scene, blessing the beginning of a journey that promised to be as magical as the night itself.

As the group set forth on horseback, the clip-clop of hooves echoed through the night, harmonizing with the rustle of cloaks and the whispers of destiny. The small town, now a fading memory in the distance, marked the point of departure for a tale that would unfold within the walls of the castle—a tale written by the hand of fate, guided by the moon, and carried forward by the eternal bond that bound the vampire princes and their fated soulmate.

Life at the castle unfolded like a dream for (Y/n), a dream adorned with opulence, enchanting corridors, and the company of the vampire princes. Each passing day brought a cascade of romantic moments that seemed to transcend the ordinary boundaries of time and space.

The castle, with its majestic halls and secret passages, became a backdrop for shared laughter, whispered promises, and stolen glances. (Y/n) found herself immersed in a world where the extraordinary mingled seamlessly with the ordinary, where the moonlit nights held the promise of eternal love.

Her heart, once beating to the rhythm of a small town's simplicity, now quickened with every romantic gesture, every shared gaze, and every touch exchanged with the vampire princes. The bond between them deepened, and the feelings (Y/n) harbored for the boys grew, a symphony of emotions that resonated within the castle's grand walls.

As the moon continued its watchful gaze over the castle, the love story within its walls unfolded like a tapestry woven with threads of magic and destiny. The small town, now a distant memory, had given way to a life where each romantic moment marked a page in the timeless narrative that celebrated the extraordinary connection between mortals and immortals.

The romance, woven into the very fabric of their shared existence, became a testament to the enduring power of love that defied the constraints of mortality. Whether it was a dance beneath the chandeliers, a shared moment on the castle battlements, or a stolen kiss in the moonlit gardens, each romantic interlude added a new verse to the eternal ballad that bound the vampire princes and (Y/n) together.

In the castle's vast library, Youngbin and (Y/n) found a shared haven among the shelves of ancient tomes and modern novels. Engaged in passionate discussions about literature, their intellectual connection blossomed into something deeper. Amidst the scent of aging parchment, they shared stolen kisses, each one a promise sealed between the pages of a romantic novel.

In the serene castle gardens, Inseong became (Y/n)'s patient guide in the art of drawing. Surrounded by blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves, their afternoons were spent capturing the beauty of the world on paper. With each stroke of the pencil, a silent dialogue unfolded, expressing emotions that words could not convey.

Jaeyoon, with his affinity for nature, led (Y/n) through the enchanting castle greenhouse. Amidst vibrant blooms and exotic plants, they explored the hidden corners of the botanical sanctuary. The air filled with the sweet scent of flowers as they discovered the magic that flourished in the heart of the castle.

Dawon, with a penchant for elegance, whisked (Y/n) away on a shopping spree through the castle's extensive wardrobe. As he selected the most exquisite gowns, each fitting (Y/n)'s figure like a dream, their bond deepened amidst the swirl of silk and the shimmer of jewels.

In the heart of winter, Zuho created an enchanting ice rink within the castle grounds. Hand in hand, they glided across the frozen surface, the crisp air echoing with laughter and the scrape of skates. Under the starlit sky, Zuho guided (Y/n) through a dance on ice, a metaphor for the delicate balance of their shared journey.

Cozy nights in the castle's private theater became a sanctuary for (Y/n) and Rowoon. Snuggled under warm blankets, they watched movies that spanned genres, their laughter and shared commentary creating a soundtrack to their growing affection. In the dim glow of the screen, Rowoon held (Y/n) close, each frame capturing a moment frozen in time.

Taeyang, with the rhythm of a dancer's heart, twirled (Y/n) under the moonlit sky. The castle ballroom became a stage for their shared dances, each step a declaration of love set to the music that echoed through the grand halls. In the embrace of the waltz, Taeyang and (Y/n) found a harmony that transcended the ordinary.

Beneath the blanket of the midnight sky, Hwiyoung and (Y/n) shared intimate picnics on the castle battlements. Surrounded by the soft glow of lanterns, they exchanged innocent kisses as the stars bore witness to the quiet moments that illuminated the night.

In the castle's music room, Chani became (Y/n)'s patient instructor in the art of piano. Guiding her hands across the ivory keys, they created melodies that echoed through the castle corridors. In each chord and refrain, a symphony of emotions unfolded, expressing the depth of their connection in a language that only music could convey.

The castle, once a vast expanse that echoed with the footsteps of nine vampire princes, had held an air of grandeur that seemed to stretch into endless corridors. Despite the camaraderie among the princes, there lingered a sense of solitude, a quiet loneliness that whispered through the empty spaces.

However, with the arrival of (Y/n), the castle underwent a transformation. The once seemingly boundless halls now resonated with shared laughter, the warmth of companionship, and the echo of shared moments. The castle, once a majestic but solitary fortress, began to feel alive, each room infused with the energy of newfound connections.

The presence of just one more person had turned the castle into a home. The grandeur of its architecture and the opulence of its halls became the backdrop for a tale of love and shared destinies. The once-lonely corridors now held the imprint of shared footsteps, and the walls, witnesses to individual and collective moments, seemed to radiate a newfound warmth.

As (Y/n) navigated the castle's twists and turns, she found comfort in the familiarity of the vampire princes' presence. The once-never-ending halls now felt like a tapestry woven with threads of shared experiences, a testament to the bonds that had transformed a fortress into a home.

The castle, with its storied history and timeless architecture, became more than just a residence for the vampire princes. It became a haven, a sanctuary where love, laughter, and the echoes of shared moments filled the air. The once-lonely castle had found its heart, and that heartbeat in harmony with the collective rhythm of its newfound residents—a home that embraced the extraordinary and celebrated the magic of connection.

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astroyongie · 10 months

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Angel Work: Introduction and Hierarchy - The Thrones

Angels are powerful spiritual beings, that can accompany us and guide us through our spiritual life on Earth. We may find angels mainly on monotheist religions such as Christianity, Judaism and even Islam.

The Kabbalah was the first religious text where Angels are spoken of. There’s 72 angels regrouped in 9 families. Each of these families is headed by a specific Archangel.

This post as a purpose for you to learn more about Angels. While reading through it, you may find and connect with some of them. I would advice for you to choose a family first and then one angel to start your working. But really, listen to your gut and allow their energy to flow through you.

This trend will have 9 parts, for each family: Seraphims, Cherubins, Thrones, Dominations, Powers, Virtues, Principalities, Archangels and Angels.

Family 3 - The Thrones, lead by Archangel Tsaphkiel

- The Thrones is one of the most important families in the tree of angels, since they represensent the personal and spirituality freedom, they possess the power of Karma and purification. Their powerful goes beyond our understanding

- Tsaphkiel: From his name Tsaphkiel “Completion of God”, that leads the divine justice, the angel of introspection, meditation and contemplation.

- Lauviah

Magic Color: Purple and pink

Emotion: Revelations

Mirror Hour: 00h05

Work With: Dreams - Liberation - Work

Angel Of: Spirituality, Premonition dreams and Clairvoyance

Their Energy: Lauviah energy is attached to the water, and their light goes deep and they protect those who fear the night and its darkness during sleep. It’s a good angel for those who work with clairvoyance and spirituality

- Caliel

Magic Color: Black and light greyn

Emotion: Truth

Mirror Hour: 05h50

Work With: Juridic conflits - Truth - Anguish

Angel Of: Justice, Innocence and Protection

Their Energy: Caliel works very well during the night and little morning so during the night the work to him is being done and the first lights of the morning spread his energy. Good angel that gives great assistance

- Leuviah

Magic Color: Black and Indigo

Emotion: Inteligence

Mirror Hour: 06h06

Work With: Success - Life Path - Choices

Angel Of: Abandonment, Letting go and Strength

Their Energy: Linked with the Sea and fisherman as well, Leuviah is a greater healer when it comes to karma chains of our past lives. He helps learning about the secrets of the world and also against the dark thoughts

- Pahaliah

Magic Color: Pink and red

Emotion: Deliverance

Mirror Hour: 00h06

Work With: Sexuality - Single people - Couples - Victory

Angel Of: Spirituality, Inspiration and Vocations

Their Energy: Pahaliah is a great mentor since it makes you think about your mistakes. They work with relationships, bringing the good and removing the bad. Very attached to the sexual energy.

- Nelchael

Magic Color: Golden and Coral color

Emotion: Learning

Mirror Hour: 00h07

Work With: Relationships - Couples - Success - Protection

Angel Of: Victory and Knowledge

Their Energy: Nelchael work through artistic ways and their energy is very different from others. He helps with innovation and new perceptions, protects the ones that call upon him and clears your path of bad deeds

- Yeiayel

Magic Color: Silver and Yellow

Emotion: Renamed

Mirror Hour: 07h07

Work With: Finances - Success - Protection - Spirituality

Angel Of: Good fortune and Glory

Their Energy: Yeiayel brings glory to those who work with him and pray for him, but working with him also demands to do a lot of communitary and humanitarian work. He also helps on spiritual deeds and development

- Melahel

Magic Color: Green

Emotion: Protection

Mirror Hour: 00h08

Work With: Healing - Medicine - Environment - Magnestism

Angel Of: Healing, Body, Soul and Nature

Their Energy: Malahel is a good healer and it helps those who work for him to reach a perfect balance in all their life and dimensions. They work through kindness and nature, through prayers and offerings.

- Haheuiah

Magic Color: Red and indigo

Emotion: Support

Mirror Hour: 03h33

Work With: Family - Love - Better - Protection - Delinquency

Angel Of: Protection, Love and Family

Their Energy: Haheuiah prayers are strong, they never destroy, they always repair. It helps those with him to express themselves, to find self love and keeps away bad people

#angels #angels work #spirituality #teorgy

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poptod · 2 years

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Taste of the Rich (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Ahkmenrah feeds you fruit. That’s it.

Notes: ive written so many long serious fics about ahk i think im just tired. heres me having a giant crush on him and having nowhere to put that love. WC: 1.8k

It started out so innocent.

You'd been called to the Prince's chambers––nothing new at all, considering you had already been there a number of times to complete menial duties. Most of the time you cleaned his room, prepared incense, or carried bowls of fresh blue lotus flowers to lay at his bedside. As such you hauled your cleaning tools up the steps, wondering if you were to clean the whole of his room by yourself. A daunting task, but not impossible.

This, however, was not what you were expecting.

Unlike the other times, the Prince was inside, waiting for you. Usually you only saw him once you were done, at which point he thanked you as you quickly left the room. Now he was sitting on his bed, his legs crossed neatly, a soft smile on his face as the door creaked open.

"Iiti im hotep," he said, lifting his chin ever so slightly. A polite smile tugged at his dark lips.

"Good afternoon, my Prince," you said quietly, hesitant to meet his eye.

Instead, you set your tools in a far corner, and got to sweeping up the piles of sand and dust that naturally accumulated within the palace. For the next couple minutes, you ignored how his eyes trailed wherever you went, and stuck to yourself.

You barely noticed that the door opened until it shut behind the leaving feet of another servant. With that tiny noise you looked up, and realized Ahkmen had been left with a large platter of fruit. You watched, unable to look away, as he tested one of the grapes.

Once he swallowed, his gaze turned to you.

"How long have you been working here?" He asked, and the sound made you realize you'd been staring motionless at him.

"Um.. since I was 14," you answered quietly.

"Hm." He looked to the plate, took another grape, and turned back to you, his brow knotted curiously. "What do you think of it?"

"Uhh..."

"Don't be afraid to be critical," he said, moving to lay down with his hands entwined behind his head. "I'm only curious. Won't tell anyone." He winked. "Promise."

"I do not.. have much to say," you said with a weak chuckle as you resumed sweeping. "I am told what to do, and if I do it well, I am given food and beer for my family. There isn't much to it."

"Do you not get tired of bread?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. "It's all you're given, isn't it?"

"My brother and father catch fish in the Nile, and my mother picks the fallen figs of the city's trees. She, uh, she bakes them in the sun, and it makes them sweet. I do not have... bad food. I'm happy with what I have now. It is better from what I had as a child."

He paused to contemplate his words, gently chewing at his lips. You wandered to imagine what he was thinking about––what questions he would continue to ask, what things he wouldn't understand under the virtue of his fortunes as a Prince. After all, in your experience, rich people simply didn't understand the lives of those beneath them.

"How did you come upon this job, then?"

Ah, yes. In Egypt the child always trained under the job of their parent when they grew up. Not so much, in your case; your father was never a servant in the palace.

"My father was a soldier for the Hyksos. When he was captured, he was, uh, enslaved. The Pharaoh made him a soldier for Egypt. After that, he um... he was given a job here, as servant in the palace, but I took his place. He cannot work good anymore."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Is he doing alright? Is he happy?"

"Yes," you said, and this time you couldn't stop a chuckle from warming your cheeks. "Yes, my brother and I keep him fed."

What an odd question for a Prince, you thought.

He hummed again and nodded. You returned to cleaning, organizing his scrolls and papyrus, and his palette of water-stained colors.

"I want to send you home with a gift," he said suddenly.

Your shuffling stopped just as abruptly, leaving the room heavied with silence.

"Uh.. thank you, my Prince," you said, slow and hesitant. "But m - may I ask why?"

"Hm?" He raised his brows like he hadn't heard you. "Oh, oh no reason really. I just know you've done your share of chores for me, and I think it is good to share what one has. Especially with one as obedient as yourself."

You bit down a nervous laugh.

"Come here," he commanded.

Without hesitation, you moved to stand before him.

"Sit down."

You did as he asked. He called you obedient, after all. You didn't want to disappoint him.

He sat up, scanning your features for a good minute, with an eye that scrutinized each of your micro-expressions. When he reached for you, it took everything not to flinch away.

His thumb ran down your jawline, then gently gripped your chin and forced you to face him.

"You are quite beautiful, too," he said quietly. As though he hadn't noticed you before.

"Thank you, my Prince," you said, your voice verging between mouthing and a whisper.

"Of course." He smiled. "Now open up."

You nearly spluttered. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the moment you did, his thumb hooked into your jaw, silencing you as he pulled you forward towards him.

He kept his thumb where it was as he turned, plucking a grape from the vine before turning back to you and placing it in your mouth.

It was smooth and cool on your tongue. Once he removed his thumb you bit down, allowing a sweet taste to fill your senses. You chewed slowly, testing the flavor with a sense of appreciation. You'd never had grapes before. As your eyes flickered up to him from the floor, you found him staring at you, gauging your reaction.

"What do you think?" He asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It's very good," you admitted. "There is more... taste, than I thought."

"Very good."

He reached for the plate again, and returned with a fruit you'd never seen before. It was red, with a thick crown where it grew from a branch, and fit well into his hand. When he cracked it open, thin lines of white flesh separated a multitude of blood red seeds. He must've noticed your eyes bulging, because he laughed, throwing his head back.

"It's a pomegranate. Have you never seen one before?" He asked through his chuckles.

"I've never eaten a grape before, sir," you pointed out.

"Right, right. I forget sometimes. It's from your land, actually, it's called a pomegranate. Imported specially from the Hyksos for the palace. You won't see it outside these walls."

"How do you... eat it?"

"Quite simple. Just..." he peeled a length of seeds away from the fruit, "bite in."

The taste of this one was sharper––stronger, deeper, and plunged into your senses in a way not dissimilar to its' vibrant color. When you swallowed, he asked again for your opinion, which you gave quietly.

"It is good. It.. is how I think wine would taste," you said rather decisively, which seemed to amuse the Prince.

"You've never had wine, either?" He asked, but this time there was less astonishment in his voice, and instead he was politely inquisitive.

"Uh... no," you answered slowly.

"Mm."

He stood, leaving you on his bed as you stared, your eyes trailing after him as he poked his head into the hallway, catching the attention of the nearest servant. He said something to them––something you couldn't quite make out––and soon returned to sit by your side.

"I'll warn you that wine doesn't actually taste like pomegranates, at least not to me. You'll soon make that decision for yourself. In the meantime," he gripped your chin gently, "close your eyes."

You did.

His thumb rested on your lower lip, and when it dug in you allowed him to open up your mouth, till the pad of his thumb rested on your teeth and tongue. This time, a dried, wrinkled fruit was placed in your mouth, and you decided quickly that it tasted very similar to dates, if it wasn't a date at all.

"Now there's two ways of eating these, that was the dried one. Here's a fresh one. It's a little different. Keep your eyes closed, darling."

A 'little' different was an understatement. Instead of the soft, honey-like flesh surrounded by a thin layer of dry skin, this one was crisp and more juicy than the previous.

"What was that?" You asked when you finished.

"Jujube berries." He leaned back and smiled. "Do you like them?"

"Yes, it's very good."

His eyes narrowed.

"Now you're not just saying this to make me happy, are you?" He asked, tilting his head curiously.

A grin grew across his face when your eyes widened and you tried to stammer out some sort of answer. Fortunately, he took mercy on you, and laughed away your nervousness.

"Don't worry yourself. But I don't mind if you don't like them, you can tell me if you don't. This is a gift for you, after all."

He continued to feed you a variety of fruits, ranging from the cherries of the Persea tree and pears that grew from desert cacti. Then, when he ran out of new fruit for you to try, he continued to feed you what you deemed your favorites. Pomegranate seeds––though covered in sweet flesh––were bitter when crushed. Fresh jujube berries were tough on your teeth. Mimusops were light and fruity, and the soft flesh was easy to chew, so he was happy to feed you those along with the grapes you first had.

You did find it strange, however, that he wouldn't hand them to you. Each of the fruits came from his hand, and his alone. Not that you would complain. You could never do that in his presence.

By the end of it you were left with a woven basket of reeds, refilled at Ahkmen's beck and call to the servant who returned with a clay bottle of wine. Long, branching vines of grapes and ripe pomegranates encircled dates and mimusops like a wreath. The bottle, kept shut with a thick cork, had a rounded bottom that couldn't stand on its' own, as well as a thin neck flanked by handles carved into with grape leaves.

"I hope you and your family enjoys these," the Prince said quietly, arranging the fruits on the platter in your hands.

"I'm certain they will," you said, staring up at him. "Thank you, my Prince."

He chuckled, and a warm smile met your eyes.

"No need to thank me." He reached up, stroking the crease of your lips with his thumb, and removing the red stains of pomegranates. "Come back for more if you'd like, as well. You're always welcome in my chambers."

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader

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orthodoxadventure · 4 months

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“Dearly Beloved, each word and deed of Our Saviour Jesus Christ is for us a lesson in virtue and piety. For this end also did He assumed our nature, so that every man and every woman, contemplating as in a picture the practice of all virtue and piety, might strive with all their hearts to imitate His example. For this He bore our body, so that as far as we could, we might repeat within us, the manner of His life. And so, therefore, when you hear mention of some word or deed of His, take care not to receive it simply as something that incidentally happened but raise your mind upwards towards the sublimity of what He is teaching and strive to see what has been mystically handed down to us”

St Basil the Great

#Saint Basil the Great #Saint Basil #Christianity #Orthodox Christianity #Catholicism

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crimsonedquill · 1 year

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hey :) i love how you write angst! can you do a hc about how mc would know they're depressed? like the signs they would show?

Yes I can! We do love a good bit of Character Analysis™ in this house.

Thanks for the ask 🖤

How they act when they are depressed (Hogwarts Legacy)

TW: discussion of depression

Poppy Sweeting 🦡

I think she’d be the most mature in dealing with her emotions by sheer virtue of all the shit she’s already overcome. That said, talking about her problems doesn’t come naturally to her. Isolating herself is her go-to coping mechanism for pretty much any kind of personal struggle, so it might be difficult to figure out whether she’s just having a bad day or she’s going through more serious stuff. However, if she trusts you enough to talk about it, she’s surprisingly good at articulating her feelings.

Natsai Onai 🦁

She’s definitely the type to hide her emotions because she doesn’t want to feel like a burden to others. Keeps a brave face, tries her best to smile through the pain, doesn’t want to give anyone (least of all her mother) the impression that anything’s wrong. When she’s alone, she cries a lot. Whatever she’s feeling at the moment mixes with the guilt she feels over her father’s death, leading her to feel like everything is her fault.

Imelda Reyes 🐍

Doesn’t ‘do’ emotions. She just submits herself to gruelling training schedules and pushes her body to its limits so the physical pain drowns out the mental kind. Will often lose her shit in front of anyone who has the audacity to show concern for her. These are her problems to deal with; she doesn’t need anyone else.

Ominis Gaunt 🐍

In the same mould as Natty, I think his lingering sense of guilt would keep him from expressing his true feelings in a clear way to others. He practically spends most of his time with the Sallows, so it would make sense that he keeps his issues to himself to not add to their pile of problems. Whatever pain he feels he masks with sarcasm and a lot of passive-aggressiveness. The worst thing is that he often thinks he deserves it.

Sebastian Sallow 🐍

He hates being in a position of vulnerability and lacking control over his circumstances. If he can’t even help himself, how is he ever going to help his sister? He tends to get erratic and impulsive, coping with his problems by getting involved in increasingly dangerous shenanigans until a) he gets seriously injured or b) someone gets in his face and reminds him that he’s not invincible.

Amit Thakkar 🦅

I’m a bit torn on Amit. I think he would either be burying himself in his schoolwork or going out of his way to help others to hide his own struggles. One obvious sign that he’s going through some things: forgetting all the answers to the questions the professors ask him in class. He tends to get trapped inside his own head, constantly doubting himself and wondering if he’s good enough.

Anne Sallow 🐍

She always tries to see the positive side of things. Sometimes, though, the strain on her mind and body is just too much. Her brother and uncle fighting all the time rubs off on her – she can’t help but wonder how better things would be if she would be simply gone – and more often than not she contemplates the thought of just walking out and never coming back. She will get uncommunicative, going on long walks without any destination in mind, trying to remember what it was like to live without pain.

I'm crying they just need a hug 😭

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcanons #poppy sweeting #natsai onai #imelda reyes #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #amit thakkar #anne sallow

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philosophybits · 1 year

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When you pronounce any action or character to be vicious, you mean nothing, but that from the constitution of your nature you have a feeling or sentiment of blame from the contemplation of it. Vice and virtue, therefore, may be compared to sounds, colours, heat and cold, which, according to modern philosophy, are not qualities in objects, but perceptions in the mind.

David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature

#philosophy #quotes #David Hume #A Treatise of Human Nature #judgments #sentiment #feelings #emotions #blame #ethics #morality

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slytherinslut0 · 4 months

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blaise zabini. | everything i’ll ever need.

PAIRING: Blaise Zabini x Hufflepuff Reader

SUMMARY: Your boyfriend whisks you away from the enchanting Yule Ball, blindfolding your eyes in mystery, alluding to a secret spot. Though he suggests it's merely to show you something, what unfolds is a testament to his deep appreciation for your love of nature and a showcase of his genuine gentlemanly demeanour.

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

Tags: A NAUSEATING AMOUNT OF FLUFF. Just a super sweet cheesy adorable Blaise, one hell of a gentleman. literally the standard for all men.

"Blaise, please, slow your pace!" Your voice echoed with breathless laughter, a symphony of delight dancing on the air as your high heels clicked in rhythmic cadence on the ancient stone pathway. “I’m going to trip!”

Your boyfriend’s hand, large and enveloping, held yours in a secure embrace--firm yet gentle, a testament to the familiar comfort that always accompanied his touch. He led you farther away from the fading melodies transpiring within the Yule Ball, his playful request evident in his yellow silk tie securely wrapped around your eyes, a soft blindfold shielding your view.

"Relax, puffle, just a little further," he retorted, the gleam of a mischievous smirk practically audible in his voice. "I've got you, baby."

His grip on your hand tightened, and you battled the urge to wrench it away entirely, resentment bubbling at the sound of the detested nickname he insisted on using. As a proud member of Hufflepuff, his relentless teasing and taunting, finding any excuse to emphasize your house affiliation, grated on your nerves.

"You might just provoke a hex if you don't ease up on that bloody nickname, Zabini," you huffed, a teasing grin dancing on your lips. "Come on, spill the secrets. Where are you dragging me? My poor feet are practically begging for a break."

In response to your words, Blaise came to an abrupt stop, a human blockade you collided with, knocking the wind out of your sails--quite literally. You were left momentarily breathless, contemplating the insanities of navigating blindfolded, following a bloody Slytherin boy into the middle of Merlin-knows-where.

Your hand instinctively shot up, ready to snatch the blindfold away out of pure irritation. However, Blaise, the ever-vigilant boyfriend, intercepted your rebellion with the swift precision of a Quidditch Seeker. His strong hands clasped around your wrist, halting your blindfold removal mission as if you were attempting an illicit spell in the Restricted Section. The dramatic pause hung in the air, and you couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected turn of events, your irritation momentarily eclipsed by the absurdity of the situation.

"Patience is a virtue, my love. I thought you Hufflepuffs were well-versed in that," he teased, his hands leisurely descending down your arms until they settled on your hips. In your mind's eye, you could almost see the mischievous gleam in his eyes, his teeth nibbling on the plushness of his bottom lip. "Tired feet, you say? Allow me the honour of carrying you."

Before you could even voice a protest, before the chance to assure him it was entirely unnecessary, the man wasted no time. In a swift motion, he scooped you up into his chest, his arm hooking around your waist and the other securely beneath your knees, cradling you in a bridal-style embrace as he carried you effortlessly down the stone path.

A delighted squeal escaped you, your grip instinctively tightening around him, your face finding refuge in the comforting crook of his neck as the two of you swayed with each purposeful step.

“Gods, you’ve truly mastered the art of sweeping me off my feet, haven’t you?” You chuckled, a radiant smile illuminating your lips. As you nestled into his embrace, fingers delicately entwined around his neck, you couldn’t help but feel cherished in a way that transcended the ordinary. “In a world full of boys, you truly are a gentleman.”

Blaise’s deep chuckle resonated through his chest as he continued the gentle procession down the stone path. “Easy there, puffle--I’m just sparing you from potential blisters or a mutiny against my gentlemanly reputation later on.”

“You’re fortunate I’m at your whims, Zabini.” You grumbled with a playful pout, “cant you at least try to keep the puffle references to a minimum? My pride demands it.”

“Come on, love, it’s a cute nickname for a cute girl.” Blaise chuckled again, a soft and amused sound, “I fail to understand why you hate it so much.”

"Because you manage to make me feel like a small, delicate magical creature when you use it," you grinned, your voice a gentle murmur as you nuzzled against his neck, relishing the soft breeze that grazed your skin. "I suspect it's your sneaky way of acknowledging that, deep down, you know I could take you in a fight."

“Fair point, my enchanting little warrior.” He slowed his pace, the gentleness of his movements almost a silent apology. As he did, he planted a tender kiss on your forehead, a sweet punctuation to the familiar banter. “And for the record, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"Gods, I love you," you breathed, your fingers clutching his arms as he gently set you down, his firm hold ensuring you regained your balance gracefully. Now standing on the grass, you could practically sense the golden rays of the sun bathing your skin. "I hope you understand just how much."

“I do, babygirl--your smile says it all.” Blaise’s warm chuckle brushed against your ear as he moved behind you, his hands dancing with a gentle grace on your shoulders. “And I love you just as much. Now, are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, feeling the anticipation building. His fingers moved to undo the blindfold, and you couldn’t help but wonder what awaited. As soon as the world was visible again, your breath caught in your throat. “Oh my gosh-“

Blaise gently removed the tie, taking a small step back as he loosely wrapped it around his neck, a satisfied grin playing on his lips. He watched with amusement as your eyes widened, silently capturing the myriad of exasperated expressions that flickered across your face. The spectacle before you unfolded in all its glory--the setting skies painting a masterpiece mirrored by the black lake.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Blaise murmured, his hands finding your arms, his tall frame looming protectively behind you.

As the ever-intuitive boyfriend, Blaise was keenly aware of your deep love for nature. From studying the magical lands' seasonal shifts to observing its diverse creatures, you devoted considerable time to these pursuits. Yet, he understood, perhaps better than anyone else, that beyond all else, your heart found its greatest joy in a captivating sunset.

“Blaise, it’s…”

It unfolded before you like an ethereal masterpiece, one that stole your breath with ease--the golden rays of the sun intermingling with the tangerine, coral, and fiery red hues of the sky, casting a warm glow over the landscape. The black lake, a mirror to the heavens, rippled gently, reflecting the celestial canvas above.

The distant mountains stood as silent sentinels, their silhouettes painted in shades of indigo against the canvas of the setting sun. Sporadic stars began to emerge, punctuating the sky with their twinkling brilliance, adding a celestial touch to the enchanting scene. It was a moment suspended in time, a breathtaking display of nature's artistry that left you in awe of the world's beauty.

You stood there, practically breathless, your gaze absorbing the mesmerizing spectacle unfolding before you. Words seemed inadequate, lost amidst the symphony of colours, the gentle ripples of the black lake, and the ethereal dance of your hair in the breeze. It was as if the beauty of the moment had stolen your voice, leaving you in a silent reverence for the sheer magnificence of the scene.

Blaise released a satisfied huff, his arms wrapping around your waist in a protective embrace. He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, the warmth of his lips a sweet contrast to the cool breeze.

“I’ll never tire of seeing your reactions to moments like these,” he whispered, his voice a gentle melody in your ear. “Your wonder…the way you lose yourself…it’s like discovering magic all over again…”

You turned your head, trying desperately to catch his eyes as he loomed behind you, his arms still firmly wrapped around your waist, your hands entangled with his.

“I can’t believe you’d sacrifice the opportunity to show off your dance moves just to give me this magical view,” you teased, your eyes mirroring the love and gratitude you felt in the moment, a mischievous smile gracing your lips. “You must really love me.”

“My dance moves can bide their time. What I truly wanted was a moment alone with you, babygirl,” he purred, his warm breath grazing your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Watching you admire a sunset is a scene I’ll never tire of. My favourite view.”

As you looked up at him, a smile so wide it could reach your ears graced your face. Your entire being buzzed with a love that transcended words, and in that moment, you marveled at how fortunate you were to have a man like him--an absolute gentleman who cherished the simple, magical moments, and who never failed to make you feel like you were the only bloody girl in the world.

But, before you could even process a reply, the distant sounds of flapping wings caught your attention. Turning your head back to the approaching night, you witnessed the most beautiful and magical Hippogriffs gracefully soaring through the sky, their forms adorned by the hues of the sunset. Their feathers shimmered with a spectrum of colours, a mesmerizing display that left you utterly captivated all over again.

Each majestic creature moved with grace and power, their wings beating in harmony with the dance of the evening breeze. A sense of wonder washed over you, and you found yourself lost in the enchantment of these magical beings, grateful to witness such a breathtaking moment, and grateful to have such a wonderful boyfriend who knew how to make every damn day special.

“I love you, Blaise,” you murmured, the words a soft breath escaping your lips. Blinking, you tore yourself away from the captivating view, turning your head to find your boyfriend already gazing at you. His eyes, like deep pools, met yours with an intensity that mirrored the love in your heart. “Gods, I love you so fucking much.”

"Such a dirty mouth," he grinned, his dark eyes brimming with adoration as he peered down at you. "Careful now, you might cast a spell with those words."

“It can get dirtier, if you’d like,” you giggled, a playful sparkle in your eyes as you spun around within his grasp. Throwing your arms around his neck, you pulled his head down closer to yours. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

As he pressed his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss, he murmured; “I’ve already got everything I’ll ever need, babygirl.”

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