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#creative solutions to everyday problems
metamorphesque · 4 months
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Gambiarra
A Brazilian practice that embodies the concept of resourceful improvisation, emphasizing practical and creative solutions over aesthetics and utilizing whatever is available to solve everyday problems. It's the art of making do with what's at hand.
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the art of making do with what's at hand
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itsswritten · 1 month
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Naughty little shadows | 9
Pairing: azriel x fem reader
Word count: 9.1K
Warnings: Angst, fighting, an animals bones breaking, IC fallout, 18+ dni if you are underaged, smut, fingering, oral fem receiving -- if I've missed anything please tell me.
Summary: You and Azriel begin to navigate the new complexities of your mating bond, but you quickly realise how dangerous this could become. Is being mated to the Shadowsinger worth your safety?
A/N: I've written a chunky one for you here. You are all very welcome ;) You asked for unhinged Az and you got it, you asked for smut and you got it. Mwah enjoy loves - Lottie
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<< Previous Part
In your workshop, the air was thick with the scent of various botanicals and minerals, each carefully selected for their unique properties and hues. On the wooden countertop, there lay an array of ingredients: crushed petals of vibrant flowers, powdered gemstones shimmering with iridescence, and vials filled with rare extracts from mystical plants. You carefully measured and mixed these elements, adding drops of precious oils and resins to create paints that glowed with otherworldly brilliance.
You could do this all day, everyday. 
It was your escapism.
 Adding a touch of magic to paints was the one part of your power you’ve always been able to exercise. It being subtle and non threatening, meant it became a release of some sorts. Creating new paints, and colours that weren’t even on the rainbow brought you so much joy and gave vibrancy to your life. It gave you purpose, something you were grateful for.
Orders had been pouring into the shop since the Travelling Market. Receiving commissions far and wide, meant no day was quiet. You welcomed the work that fuelled your creativity. As you meticulously worked on the final touches of your latest order, Adon's voice broke the concentration, announcing the arrival of a large delivery for Feyre. 
With a light sigh from being pulled out of your work midway, you set aside your brushes and turned to see Adon standing at the door, a sheepish expression on his face as he gestured towards the cart filled with supplies. It was rammed with canvases, an easel, brushes and other tools that you were sure Feyre already had. 
"I need you to deliver these to the House of Wind," he requested, holding out a box of paints that seemed to be part of the order.
Strange.
Feyre always got her things delivered to River house or her studio in the artist quarter. Who were you to question though. She was High Lady, she could paint wherever her heart pleased.
You nod to Adon, "No worries, I'll just finish up this order and be on my way."
You were sure to finish off your latest commission, signing off the delivery to be sent to Autumn court. 
As you wiped your hands, stained with various liquids and powders, on your overalls, you hoisted the box of paints onto your right shoulder, securing your grip on its top. With a playful tilt of your head, you directed your attention to Adon's cart.
"You’re gonna need legs for this one" you quipped with a small smile, gesturing toward the cart.
Understanding your jest, the wooden cart let out a series of groans and creaks as it transformed. Planks of wood shifted and contorted beneath it, forming two wooden long legs that gracefully held up the container of supplies.
Adon’s inventions were always a treasure of yours. You loved every single thing he created. Always finding a solution to a problem in the most unique way. His creations were a little unconventional, an acquired taste– but you loved them all the same. 
Adon and your family had always got along. Inventors, creators, artists; always had a way of finding one another. A grin spread across your face as you watched the magical cart faithfully follow behind you, its load of art supplies in tow.
With the box of paints slung over your shoulder and the magical cart clomping behind you, you quickly winnowed yourself and the cart to the bottom of the stairs of the House of wind. The ascent was long and tiring, the cart creaking behind you with each step as if groaning in agreement. Nonetheless, you pressed on, each step bringing you closer to the top of winding stairs above.
You hadn’t visited the House of Wind before, though you knew it was home to Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta. As you climbed, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see where your mate lived, to catch a glimpse into a part of his life that you hadn't yet experienced.
What did his bedroom look like? How had he chosen to decorate his sanctuary? You imagined him amidst his personal haven, perhaps surrounded by books. You always found him rummaging through your collection whenever he visited you.
Azriel had described the breathtaking view from the House of Wind, mentioning how Velaris looked like a radiant jewel at night from this vantage point. You would love to experience that firsthand with him by your side.
Azriel had frequented your apartment numerous times, often citing the need for privacy away from his family. Yet, a nagging worry lingered in your mind—that perhaps you weren't entirely welcome. You noted the absence of Cassian and Mor since your initial encounter, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you might not be fully embraced within their circle. With this being Cassian’s home too, maybe you weren’t welcome here.
You had been working to mend bridges, taking steps to forge a stronger connection with Azriel’s family. Attending Feyre’s painting classes was your first effort, an easier one as you and Feyre were already friendly acquaintances and had a common passion for art. It was clear though that Feyre appreciated your efforts, especially considering the tension that had surfaced after her sister's outburst at the brunch. She had confided in you that she was worried that it may have caused a rift, but you assured her that was all water under the bridge. You even hoped with time you, Elain and Azriel could all be on better terms.
Feyre had smiled at that when you told her, and she’d made a point one evening when the inner circle had gone out to Ritas to tell Azriel how much she liked you.
You were desperate to see what life he had behind these walls– and of course, everything outside of these walls. You wanted to explore every aspect of Azriel’s life. The recent challenges in your relationship had been daunting, yet you couldn’t deny how much closer it had brought you together.
You were really beginning to feel like a unified pair.
Ten weeks ago, the enigmatic Shadowsinger had been a mere acquaintance, a figure shrouded in mystery. But in this brief span of time, you had already unravelled the layers of one another. Learning, growing and figuring out how to trust.
And you wanted more of it. 
You hadn’t accepted the bond yet, in fact neither of you had even discussed that. But one thing was becoming clear, you wanted Azriel in your life. The desire to intertwine your destinies grew stronger with each passing moment. Whether that be spent in your apartment, exploring the depths of your power together, or the late-night walks down the winding Sidra, hand in hand. When he surprises you with your favourite pastries to coax you away from your work or those tender moments when your lips meet his that give you a sense of completeness. 
You wanted it all and more.
You just needed to let him know.
As you reached the top of the stairs, you were met with the imposing sight of the grand doors of the House of Wind. Crafted from rich, dark wood and adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of the mountains beyond the court, the doors stood tall and powerful.
Hesitating for a moment, you stole a glance at the magical cart, which creaked awkwardly on its newly formed legs. With a slight chuckle, you steadied yourself and approached the doors. Raising your hand, you rapped your knuckles against the sturdy wood, the sound echoing through the house.
As the grand doors swung open at your gentle knock, you called out for Feyre, but the only response was the hollow echo of your voice reverberating through the vast space. Undeterred, you stepped inside, the sound of your footsteps echoing on the stone floor as the creaking cart followed closely behind.
"Hello, anyone here? I've got a delivery," you called out again, your voice carrying through the silence of the empty halls. 
How peculiar. 
No one seemed to be around.
As you ventured further into the house, you couldn't help but marvel at its grandeur, realising just how humble the River House seemed in comparison. And River House was not humble by any means. It really highlighted the multitude of wealth they had, wealth they deserved, of course. It was their court, after all. But still, it was a stark difference to the tiny apartment you rented, which, at times, felt too small for both you and Azriel when he visited.
Each room you passed seemed to exude luxury and elegance, from the richly decorated walls adorned with exquisite paintings to the lavish furnishings.
It was all beautiful. But you preferred your cosy apartment– with it’s crooked walls and low ceilings. 
Entering a spacious room with an open door, you noticed a few canvases leaning against the wall, indicating that this might be another one of Feyre's studios – or at least you hoped so. You had called out numerous times, even calling out for Azriel and his shadows in case he was around. You didn’t want to appear snooping, but with no one to greet you, you really needed to get back to your workshop.
Placing the box of paints in the centre of the room, you turned to address the magical cart, which had faithfully followed you every step of the way. Its wooden form creaked softly as it shifted.
"I guess we'll just leave them here for her," you said, turning your attention back to the cart, ready to start unloading its contents. But before you could even begin, the cart suddenly jumped, startling you.
"What in the cauldron!” You exclaimed with a fright, you knew Adon’s inventions could be quirky, but this behaviour was odd– even for him. “What is wrong with you?" you asked, frustration creeping into your voice as you tried to make sense of the cart's erratic behaviour.
Stepping closer to the cart again to try and pry a tool out, it quickly creaked towards the open door, its wooden legs trembling slightly as if hesitant to comply with your command.
As it reached the doorway, it turned to you as if giving you one last glance before quickly running out. The doors slammed shut with a resounding thud, leaving you trapped inside.
You felt the energy of the room shift, the goosebumps rising under your skin. Clutching your arms, you rolled lightly on your feet, trying to dispel the growing unease.
"Feyre... was that you?" You nervously called out with a light laugh, attempting to lighten the tension that had settled in the air. 
Perhaps she was playing a trick on you?
Maybe. But something didn’t feel right, that feeling– that instinct was telling you to leave. Before your feet could carry you towards the shut door a familiar voice broke.
"I'm afraid my beautiful mate isn't here right now," the voice said, sending a shiver down your spine as you recognised it instantly.
You turned slowly towards the voice. "Oh... hello, Rhys," you managed to say, trying to sound casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. "I'm just here to deliver an order... but I'm really sorry, half of it has just run off," you added with a nervous chuckle, gesturing over your shoulder to where the magical cart had disappeared.
As Rhys stepped out from the corner where he had seemingly been concealed by glamour, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Glancing back at the closed door, your nerves spiked even further when you saw Amren standing there, her expression unreadable.
Your instincts screamed at you that this encounter was anything but ordinary. It wasn’t Feyre who had asked you to deliver, you realised, an unsettling feeling sinking in your gut. For a moment, you felt like a deer trapped between her prey.
They had lured you here.
The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you found yourself tensing, trying to keep your composure as Rhys and Amren closed in on you. Facing your High Lord, you attuned your senses to Amren, who stood by the door behind you. 
She was blocking it, guarding it, to stop you from leaving.
“I better go retrieve the rest of Feyre’s order,” you smiled lightly, testing where you stood in this. Rhys only half-smiled in return. Amren hadn’t moved from her spot, and you knew there was no way you were getting past her.
“You know, I never would have known. All these years, your family has slipped through the cracks,” Rhys said, walking now, slowly circling you. 
Not entirely true.
Just like Azriel, it was clear Rhys was completely unaware how his own father had used your father in the war.
“Your family did a great job hiding themselves for all these years. Gods, I didn’t even know your kind existed,” he chuckled darkly, his imposing presence exuding an authority you hadn't experienced when you met him among his family and with Azriel prior.
You didn’t reply, only glanced slightly over your shoulder to Amren. She stood stiff, her expression still the same.
“If you had chosen anything other than a spider... well, I wouldn’t have known anything was amiss.” Rhys continued. “What an incy, wincy mistake.” he chided, and you felt your jaw clench at his slight mocking tone.
“You see, around 300 years ago, I put up a ward on River House. For Mor. She hates spiders, detests the creatures, and would beg me to eliminate them from the Night Court altogether. For her birthday one year, I granted her the gift of a particular ward that doesn’t allow them in any of our homes. River House, her apartment, here…” he trailed off, lifting his hands in the air gesturing to the house you were now standing in.
You'd made a grave mistake. The innocent creation of that little spider, once a mere impulsive act, now weighed heavily as regret seeped in. The consequences of that fleeting decision were far greater than you had anticipated. It wasn't necessary; it was merely a childish impulse, a fleeting desire to provoke a reaction from Elain. Yet, that seemingly innocuous choice had now jeopardised everything you held dear. 
The walls you had painstakingly built to protect yourself and the promise you had made to your father were crumbling before your eyes.
"Of course, this isn't widely known, so only Mor and I would have been aware of any intrusions in my home. And well when trying to figure out why this creature was in my home I realised the only new variable in the equation was you" Rhysand explained, his tone laced with a darkness that unnerved you.
“Rhysand…your High Lord, you’ve got this all wrong…” you interjected, stumbling over your words as you desperately tried to change the narrative. Deep down though, you knew that it was too late.
“I wouldn’t have known what you were, but luckily, lovely Amren here clocked onto something too.”
“Your blood,” she spoke flatly, as you recalled the nosebleed that had come after creating your first creation from your mind’s eye. “My senses aren’t as particular as they were before, but when I smelt your blood, I recognised something ancient.”
“You’ve got it all wrong…” you countered, hoping to stall for time while you formulated a plan.
“Oh I don’t believe we do.” Rhys declared. He stood a metre in front of you now, his stature intimidating, and you desperately fought against stepping back. You needed to hold your own, but you were feeling out of your depth. 
Scared, ambushed and outnumbered.
"Your bloodline is rare," Amren remarked, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "And your kind are secretive. I never thought I'd meet one of you in my lifetime."
You remained silent, watching their every move.
But Amren's flat tone cut through the air like a blade. "I believe you're a Glyphic. Or more commonly known, a Veilweaver," she stated matter-of-factly, sending shivers down your spine at the names you hadn't heard yourself be called in centuries.
Rhysand, however, was less intrigued. "You've been living in my court undetected," he accused, his voice laced with irritation. "Deception is not something I take lightly."
Was it the deceit that troubled him more, or the realisation that your powers were beyond his ability to detect?
"I've never caused any problems..." you began, your words faltering as you tried to mount a defence.
"Yet," Rhys interjected sharply, cutting off your protest. His gaze bore into you with an intensity that made you squirm. "Veilweavers are powerful and dangerous," Rhys continued, his tone unwavering. "And I need to ensure you're not a threat to my court—or my brother."
As Rhysand advanced, his talons reached out, probing against your mental defences in an attempt to breach your mind. With every ounce of strength you possessed, you pushed back, feeling the strain of the effort as you fought to keep him out.
They didn't suspect that Azriel knew your secret, a realisation that weighed heavily upon you. What would they do if they discovered he had kept this from them? Azriel, the Spymaster of the Night Court, had always prioritised his court and family above all else. But now, for the first time, there was someone he would choose to protect above all others.
You.
You couldn't allow Rhysand to breach your mind.
Rhys lunged forward, his mental talons clawing at the barriers of your mind, seeking to break your defences. In a moment of desperation and self-preservation, you called forth a creature to defend yourself. 
You reached into the depths of your mind to summon your power, a surge of energy rippled through your being, tingling at your fingertips like electric currents dancing along your skin. In your mind's eye, you saw flashes of vivid imagery, intricate patterns swirling and shifting with ethereal grace. It was as if you were tapping into a hidden realm, a reservoir of ancient magic waiting to be unleashed.
Yet, beneath the awe-inspiring beauty, there was a subtle undercurrent of unease, a whisper of uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. You were standing against your High Lord–your mates brother. 
You had to protect yourself though. Protect your mind, and the secret Azriel had kept from his High Lord.  
In this moment, as you conjured forth your guardian, you pushed aside those doubts. The black sleek panther materialised with a fluid grace, its form exuding strength and determination, a sentinel ready to defend you against any threat.
The air crackled with tension as Rhysand and Amren exchanged a knowing glance, their previous suspicions confirmed by the display of your power. Their expressions shifted, morphing into a mixture of wariness as they assessed the situation before them.
Amren couldn't conceal the faint smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips as she regarded you and the magnificent creature you had summoned. You were exactly what she had suspected, a Glyphic with untapped potential and formidable abilities.
With a menacing growl, your panther confronted Rhysand, causing him to momentarily retract his mental talons. However, his resolve remained steadfast.
"Rhys, please. Can we talk this out?" You pleaded, desperation lacing your words as you locked eyes with him, searching for any glimmer of understanding or mercy. Your heart raced with fear and uncertainty. You didn't want to fight them, didn't want to inflict harm, nor be harmed in return. But above all, you were determined to protect the sanctity of your mind, a territory that was yours alone– and of course protect Azriel.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though Rhys's steely gaze softened, a hint of the warmth you had glimpsed in him during your encounters at River House. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by an impenetrable mask.
There was no Rhys here, no. Only the Lord of the Night.
Your hands trembled at your sides, the strain of maintaining your creation evident in every tense muscle of your body. Beads of sweat trickled down your temple, mirroring the intensity of your concentration as you fought to keep your panther strong and fighting. Despite the chaos and danger surrounding you, there was a strange beauty in the powerful presence of your manifestation. If circumstances were different, you might have felt a swell of pride at what you had achieved.
Azriel would be proud too.
Azriel, your mate. Your beautiful mate.
Who you didn’t deserve. 
All you could feel was guilt and despair. The troubles and problems you had brought him, he deserved someone better. Someone like Elain.
Rhys was watching over you. Your heavy breaths, your clenched fists and scared gaze. As much as Rhys may have wanted to extend you the benefit of the doubt, the stakes were too high, the risks too great.
He couldn’t trust your word, he had to know for himself.
Rhysand made another attempt to breach your mind, his talons digging deep in a relentless pursuit. In response, your panther sprang into action, launching itself at Rhysand with a primal ferocity. Yet, before it could reach its target, Rhysand unleashed a surge of magic, sending the panther hurtling across the room with a powerful force.
You shouldn't have been surprised; after all, it was only the second time you had conjured a creature from your mind's eye. Inexperienced in the art of combat, you had never faced such a dire situation before. You were no match for them.
But a small part of you had hoped that maybe your fathers strength was somewhere lingering within you. Just waiting to be unleashed.
You were wrong.
As Rhysand's magic collided with your manifestation, the impact reverberated through your own body like a physical blow. There was a sickening snap as your panther was hurled against the wall, its body twisting unnaturally upon impact. The sound of bone breaking echoed in your ears, and you couldn't suppress a strangled scream as searing pain lanced through your own being.
Tears welled in your eyes as you collapsed to the ground, the pain radiating from your body in pulsating waves. Every breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a reminder of the bond you shared with the creature now lying broken before you. The panther's breaths synced with yours, while you tried to muster your strength to get it back on its feet.
You recalled the memories of your father's teachings. He had always been your guiding light, imparting his wisdom and cautioning you about the dangers of your power. But after that fateful night, when the darkness had consumed you as a child and birthed a beast of anger, he had grown distant with his knowledge, shielding you from the full extent of your abilities.
That night you created the beast, your father had intervened, severing the connection between you and the creature with a pain that echoed through your very being. It was a harsh lesson, one that left scars emotionally.
In the aftermath, he had spoken of a way to disconnect yourself from your creations' pain, a method that required time and dedication to master. Something you had actively avoided doing because of his promise, you’re not sure if he ever realised how detrimental that promise would end up being for you. 
Your creations were an extension of your own power, their pain intertwined with yours in a delicate dance of symbiosis. Without mastering this crucial aspect of your abilities, you would forever be shackled by the limitations of your own creations.
There was no way to sever yourself from this agony, and you lacked the strength to mend and revive your creation. Your only choice was to sever the bond, and as you did, the magnificent panther dissolved into the air, fading away along with the pain of it’s demise.
"Rhys…" Amren hissed, her hand outstretched in a futile attempt to halt him as she observed how effortlessly Rhys had subdued the formidable beast. They had misjudged the situation entirely. Expecting a powerful force, they were instead faced with you– a broken female, unable to rise to her feet. 
Rhys's expression faltered, his resolve wavering momentarily as he hesitated to approach. But before he could make a move, the room was engulfed in shadow, familiar tendrils enveloping your body and vision. You recognised the cool touch of the shadows attempting to draw you into their embrace.
A tear slipped down your face and you shivered under their whispered kisses. You felt your own shadow curl up by your face to comfort you.
Through the shroud of darkness, Azriel had burst into the room, his presence commanding and protective. With a forceful shove, he knocked Amren off balance and launched himself at Rhysand, the two of them colliding with a resounding crash as they tumbled into the wall in a rough and chaotic struggle.
"I’m going to kill you, Rhys!" Azriel's voice thundered with fury, a darkness in his hazel eyes Rhys had never experienced before.
Taken aback by Azriel's sudden aggression, Rhysand attempted to interject with an explanation, but Azriel silenced him with a swift, powerful punch that connected squarely with his jaw. Rhys staggered backward, his hand flying to his face as he recoiled from the blow.
Azriel surged forward with unparalleled strength, his muscles coiled with the raw intensity of his fury. With a swift motion, he seized his brother by the throat, their bodies rocketing upwards until they collided with the ceiling in a deafening crash. The ancient stone quivered under the force of their impact, dislodging dust and debris.
Rhysand fought against Azriel's grasp, his attempts to explain drowned out by the primal rage burning in his brother's eyes. At that moment, Azriel wanted nothing but retribution.
He wanted blood.
He had felt your panic echoing through the bond, a visceral tug that had torn him away from his duties in the Illyrian camps.
As soon as the sensation had washed over him, he knew something was wrong. His instincts honed in on your distress, guiding him unerringly toward the House of Wind. With Cassian at his side, he had winnowed as close as possible before bursting into the house.
It was the sound of your scream that had pierced through him. Physically and mentally sending a wave of fear through him, turning his blood cold as he raced towards you.
Blood was drawn as shards of stone lacerated the brothers skin, leaving trails of crimson in their wake. Azriel's shadows danced around them, swirling with unrestrained fury as he fought his High Lord.
With a primal roar, Azriel seized Rhysand by the shoulders, his wings beating with a furious rhythm as he drove them both downward. They plummeted toward the unforgiving stone floor, their descent hastened by the force of Azriel's relentless assault.
Rhysand had endured Azriel's onslaught, absorbing blow after blow with a heavy heart. Rhys had refused to retaliate. He couldn't bring himself to harm his own brother, even in the midst of their heated conflict.
Yet, as Azriel's relentless assault continued, Rhysand knew he had to act. With a surge, he summoned his magic, channelling it into a devastating blast that sent Azriel staggering backward.
"I thought she could have been a threat to our court," Rhys began, his voice strained with the weight of his words. He wanted Azriel to understand, to see the danger he believed you posed.
But before he could elaborate further, Cassian burst into the fray, positioning himself between the warring brothers like a stalwart shield. He could see the venom dripping from Azriel's eyes, the sheer intensity of his rage.
"She is not a threat," Azriel spat, his words dripping with conviction.
Rhys opened his mouth to respond, to plead his case once more, but then it clicked. As the realisation dawned on him, it echoed through the chamber like a thunderous revelation. Cassian's expression mirrored his own.
Betrayal.
"You already knew..." Rhys's voice wavered, the sting of betrayal lacing every syllable. His brother had been keeping your secret all along, hiding the truth from him and from his court.
“Of course I knew, brother,” Azriel almost laughed, his tone tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. “She is my mate.”
“You should have told us,” Rhys growled, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Cassian shot him a warning look, silently urging him to remain calm.
Regardless of what Azriel had withheld, Rhys had caused harm to Azriel’s mate– you. Someone who by the looks of it was completely helpless against him.
“My duty as spymaster is to protect the court. Keeping this from you, doesn't change that,” Azriel growled, his stance unwavering.
As tensions escalated, Rhys and Azriel found themselves locked in a heated exchange. Cassian intervened, pushing them apart before things could escalate further. “You will not fight over this,” Cassian hissed, his voice firm and commanding.
Meanwhile, Amren shook her head in disbelief, a dawning realisation settling over her features. "She is a danger, though," Amren spoke up, her words carrying an unexpected truth. "She's weak," she concluded bluntly, her tone leaving no room for argument.
You flinched at the assessment, feeling a pang of insecurity at the criticism. 
Since disolving your creation, the pain had largely subsided, but a dull ache lingered in your head, and your body felt weary and drained. Amren's words rang true. You felt weak, you were weak. Centuries had passed without honing your ability. You were nothing like your ancestors or your father. You weren’t a force to be reckoned with. 
"If a Daemati broke into her mind, took hold of her powers, gods know the chaos that would ensue," Rhysand understood instantly by what Amren warned, his tone grave.
You mulled over their words, the weight of their implications sinking in. Your years of hiding your abilities had left you unprepared and vulnerable, a potential threat to those around you. You had always feared your powers, but now it seemed that your lack of control made you vulnerable to manipulation and exploitation.
Your father had wanted you to lay low, so you wouldn’t be found.But you were now left too weak to defend yourself if someone did want to exploit you.
"Don't think for a second that as soon as others find out she's your mate, that she won't instantly have a target on her back," Rhysand continued grimly. "And if the wrong person realises what she is..."
"We're doomed," Amren finished, her expression grave as she contemplated the dire consequences of your revelation.
As Amren's words sink in, snapping Azriel out of his murderous gaze directed at Rhys, to contemplate what she had just revealed to him.
An oversight on his part. But what Amren had said was true. 
The tension in the room eased slightly, and you feel the shadows enveloping you, aiding you as you rise to your feet. They offer silent support, keeping you steady.
For the first time since entering the room, Azriel's gaze shifts from his brothers to you. His eyes, usually so intense and focused, soften as he takes in your scared and bewildered expression. Without hesitation, he moves away from Rhysand and Cassian, striding purposefully toward you.
As Azriel reaches you, he pulls you into a protective embrace, his wings wrapping around you like a shield. You lean into his comforting presence, feeling the tension drain from your body as his warmth surrounds you. His lips press gently against the top of your head.
In that moment, everything else fades away, leaving only you and Azriel locked in an embrace.
"Where are you hurt?" His voice is soft and gentle, filled with genuine concern. You shake your head, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. The physical pain may have subsided with the disappearance of your panther, but the emotional turmoil still lingered.
You felt the tears slowly start to roll down your face, and soft cry finally leaving your lips now in the safety of Azriel.
Azriel pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face "It's okay my love" he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "I've got you."
At his reassurance, you lean into Azriel's chest, trying to stifle the cry that wells up inside you. Fear and worry wash over you as you recall the events that led to this moment.
Cassian watches with concern as Azriel comforts you, exchanging a bewildered glance with Rhys, silently questioning how things escalated to this point. Amren's expression remains stoic, but a hint of guilt flickers in her eyes, easily missed if one didn't know where to look.
"I didn't mean for things to escalate this way. We thought... I got it wrong," Rhys spoke, his voice laced with regret as he attempted to bridge the growing chasm between him and his brother.
Azriel's snarl cut through the air, his eyes narrowing with barely contained fury at Rhys's attempts to explain away his actions.
"I want them out," Azriel declared, his tone firm as he turned to Cassian, seeking support in his decision.
Though it was Cassian and Nesta's home, technically no one could demand the High Lord to leave anywhere in his court. Cassian glanced between Rhys and Amren, considering the situation carefully.
"I think it's best you leave for now," Cassian finally agreed, his voice steady as he made the difficult decision to ask Rhys and Amren to depart, at least temporarily, in order to diffuse the tension.
Rhys, though visibly disappointed, nods in acquiescence, understanding the need to de-escalate the situation. Amren's expression remains inscrutable, but she follows Rhys's lead without protest.
As they turn to leave, Rhys casts a lingering glance in your direction, his eyes conveying a mixture of apology and concern. Azriel, still holding you protectively in his arms, watches them go with a steely resolve, his jaw clenched.
Once Rhys and Amren depart, Cassian releases a heavy sigh, the tension in the room easing slightly. He shifts his gaze to you and Azriel, his expression softening with concern.
"Is there anything I can do Az?" he asks, genuine worry etched into his features. Azriel shakes his head, there was nothing Cassian could do to change what had occurred, to fix the damage between Azriel and Rhys. Nothing.
The only thing Azriel knew he could do was make you feel better. So that was his priority.
~~~
As Azriel guides you through the labyrinth of corridors of the House of Wind, the shadows cling to you protectively, reluctant to release their hold as if fearing they may never reunite with you. Eventually, you reach a door that yields effortlessly to Azriel's touch, unveiling a room bathed in gentle, muted light.
The space is expansive yet cosy, its walls cloaked in opulent hues of midnight blue and charcoal grey. The air carries a subtle fragrance of sandalwood and cedar, a scent uniquely Azriel's. Its familiar aroma envelops you, instantly calming your senses.
Against one wall looms a colossal four-poster bed, its imposing ebony frame swathed in cascading layers of sumptuous silk and velvet. The sheer size of it dwarfs your own bed by comparison, a necessity to accommodate those expansive Illyrian wings. Azriel must have been so uncomfortable staying at yours all those nights.
In one corner of the room, a large desk sits bathed in moonlight, its surface cluttered with scrolls, books, and various trinkets. A dimly glowing orb hovers above it, casting a soft glow over the room and illuminating Azriel's meticulous handwriting scrawled across the parchment.
Above his desk, shelves displayed an eclectic assortment of trinkets: a meticulously carved wooden box adorned with intricate designs, an assortment of books—some familiar to you, yet seemingly untouched, while others appeared brand new. 
In one corner, four small jars of paint caught your attention. Your paints. You hadn't realised he had obtained them, and a furrow formed between your brows as you pondered when he might have acquired them. Shadow Serenade, Velvet Veil, Starry Whispers, Nightfall Cries. These were the shades you had created in that first week after the bond had snapped. You remembered how thoughts of the Shadowsigner had consumed you to a point of it channelling out into your work. Each jar held a hue evocative of the Spymaster himself. He of course knew about Shadow Serenade, but how he had come to acquire the other shades you weren’t so sure. 
You pondered if perhaps you had a secret customer in him. The paints shimmered within their glass containers, casting ethereal light across the room.
On the opposite side, a cosy seating area beckons with plush armchairs and a low, velvet-covered chaise lounge. A small fireplace crackles softly in the corner, casting flickering shadows across the room and adding to the room's warm ambiance.
“The bath is ready for you” Azriel spoke, breaking you away from your lingering glances across his room and belongings. “I thought a hot bath would make you feel better” He continued, gently guiding you into his wash room.
A large ornate tub sat in the centre of the room, steam rising from the water nearly to the brim. You noticed the unique shape of the tub, clearly designed to accommodate Azriel's massive wings. 
For a fleeting moment, you imagined what it would be like to share this space with Azriel. 
Bathe with him.
As if reading your mind, your own little shadow curled round your ear.
Ask him to join you.
You instantly blushed at the notion, wafting away the naughty little creation, as you hoped Azriel or his own shadows hadn’t heard.
You swore you heard it giggle before it resumed its quiet chanting of praises towards your mate. But Azriel remained unchanged, his face still etched with concern, his priority seemingly you and your well-being.
"Clothes for you to change into are here," he continued, gesturing towards a set of garments. "I'll be just outside."
Azriel paused, allowing you a moment to take in your surroundings. Your gaze settled on the clothes neatly laid out, an arrangement you assumed was the work of his shadows, before you gave him a small nod of acknowledgment. As he left, closing the door to the washroom behind him, you took a moment to study yourself in the mirror. The reflection revealed tear-stained cheeks and a wearied expression.
Gods, you looked a mess. No wonder Azriel had suggested a wash.
Despite being the one involved in the altercation, he only had a few scratches and dust on his clothing, he still looked as beautiful as ever—strong and defiant. You, on the other hand, looked quite the opposite. As you peeled off your overalls, the fabric clinging to your skin with a thin layer of sweat accumulated during the exertion of your abilities.
You hadn't realised how much you needed a hot bath, but it turned out to be the perfect remedy to wash away the anxieties of what had happened earlier. Sinking your whole body into the warm water, with just enough to keep your nose above the surface, you allowed the hot water to soothe the aches of your body.
You’re not sure how long you stayed there, but regardless of the duration, the water didn’t cool. It was hot and toasty– thanks to the house’s magic you assumed. 
Once you were dry, you slipped into the clothes left on the side for you. It wasn’t until you were halfway through pulling the shirt over your head that you realised it must have belonged to Azriel. The size and the two slits down the back panels designed to accommodate his wings were dead giveaways. The faint scent of his laundry detergent lingered, a comforting familiarity that enveloped you as you dressed. 
Tugging on the loose jersey pants and cinching the drawstring around your waist, another of Azriel’s clothing you assumed. Although you’d never seen him wear something so casual before, and it made you want to see this part of him even more.The thought of a more relaxed Azriel, lounging around his bedroom in sweats with a book in hand, intrigued you. It made you hungry for a version of him you hadn’t experienced yet.
You returned to the bedroom, a sense of calm now settled after your bath. As you moved into the armchair by the fireplace, Azriel approaches with a tray of food in hand. His expression is determined, yet there's a tenderness in his eyes that speaks volumes.
"I want you to eat," he says firmly, his voice tinged with concern. You hesitate, glancing at the tray of food he’s arranged. A hot bowl of soup, with slices of fresh warm bread on the side.
 It smelt delicious.
Plates with slices of cheeses and meats with grapes, and other sliced fruits adorned the tray. It looked delightful, but you weren’t really sure you had an appetite after everything that had happened.
"I don't think I'm hungry," you murmur softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.
"Don't make me force-feed you," Azriel responds, his tone gentle yet firm. Your brows raised slightly at his statement, and he sighed with a soft smile “I’m driving myself crazy here, I just need to know you’re okay. I’ll feel better when I know you’ve eaten something. What you went through…was intense” he admitted, his protective instincts clearly in overdrive.
You nod slowly, understanding his concern, and reluctantly take the plate from the tray. Despite your lack of appetite, you decide that a few spoonfuls of soup won’t hurt. And if it can ease your mate's worry, then you’d do it for him.
Balancing the tray on your lap, you scoop up a spoonful of soup and bring it to your lips. The flavours dance on your tongue, surprisingly rich and satisfying. Despite not feeling hungry just moments ago, the warm, wholesome meal feels comforting and perks your appetite.
Across from you, Azriel settles into his armchair, his gaze unwavering. As you finish the last spoonful of soup and dip a piece of bread into the bowl, a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, relief evident in his eyes.
You set the tray back on the low coffee table in front of you, popping a grape into your mouth before finally glancing up at your mate. You hoped to see satisfaction in his expression, a sense of relief that you had nourished yourself enough. However, when you met his gaze, a sadness lurked in his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings.
"I was so scared," he confesses suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I felt your fear through the bond, and then when I heard you scream... I thought I was going to lose you."
His words hung heavy in the air, and your expression dropped as you swiftly moved to comfort your mate. Seeking solace in each other, he drew you closer, pulling you onto his lap with a tender embrace. As he buried his face into the side of your neck, you whispered softly, your voice filled with gratitude, "I would have felt the same if it was you." Your breath caught as you expressed the depth of your emotions. The mere thought of Azriel being hurt, of him being in danger, stirred a visceral reaction within you, a gut-wrenching turmoil. 
The bond that tethered you both together was profound and all-encompassing. You understood, with unwavering certainty, that you would do anything for this male. You would protect him, even at the cost of your own life.
Just as he had threatened Rhys. You would kill for Azriel. And you would also die for him.
Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at you, his scarred hand cupping your cheek gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles.
“Thank you” you whispered “For coming for me.”
“Always” He said deeply, your forehead resting against his as you straddled him.
Your lips naturally found their place on his. A kiss quickly deepened at the raw magnitude of what had happened today. The fear Azriel had experienced, the dread of losing you, had gripped him with a relentless force. He never wanted to face that possibility.
Despite the truth in Amren's words, acknowledging your vulnerabilities and limitations, at this moment, all Azriel desired was to cherish what he feared he might have lost.
There was an unspoken understanding, a silent exchange echoing down the bond, as you felt Azriel's desperation and the depth of his fear. You longed to assuage his anxiety, to offer him solace and reassurance.
Pulling back slightly from the kiss, your breaths mingling in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Azriel regarded you with darkened hazel eyes, silently anticipating your next move. A familiar look passed between you, one laden with unspoken desire that had lingered unexplored until now. With a gentle touch, you took his hand and guided him to his bed, wordlessly conveying your intentions as you led him to his plush sheets.
Azriel bit back a low guttural growl, watching as you climbed onto his bed.
You lay on his bed, draped on his sheets, wearing his clothes. It was an image he wanted to etch into his memory forever.
“There’s never been any pressure, no expectations,” he whispered, standing at the side as if seeking reassurance of your intentions.
No expectations.
He had promised you that after the bond snapped, and he had stayed true to his word. Always the gentleman, never pressuring you. Always moving at your pace.
“I know Azriel” you breathed, in a way that spoke of permission.
Azriel took a breath, steadying himself as he comprehended the significance of your invitation before climbing over you. He hovered over you, settling his weight above, his presence reassuring and protective. Your head sank into the plush pillows beneath, and he moved over you with a predatory grace.
“I was so worried I was going to lose you today…” he breathed. Your hand had come to caress the side of his neck, pulling his face closer to you.
 “There was a moment I realised too that if I lost you today…” You were watching him, as his desire filled eyes turned darker “I would have lost you without ever having the chance to taste you”
His confession sent a shiver down your spine, goosebumps covering your body under his clothes you were wearing. Your nipples perked at his words, rubbing against the fabric.
“Then thank the cauldron you didn’t lose me…” You breathed playfully back, your face hot at his words. He let out a low laugh.
“Thank the cauldron indeed” He purred, leaning in to press his lips against yours. His lips slowly move down your neck, leaving flushed kisses on your skin. His fingers tugged at his shirt on you, hastily unbuttoning the black material till your breasts were exposed to him.
You thought you saw him almost choke on his breath at the sight.
His hazel eyes lighting with glint you hadn’t seen before.
“You are beautiful my love” he breathed, his voice husky with desire. The sound of his words made your heart race, the intensity of his gaze causing a surge of heat to pool in your core.
Azriel's lips trailed down from your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. As he reached your exposed breasts, he hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with yours, seeking permission. The air crackled with anticipation as you nodded, giving him silent consent.
His touch was gentle yet possessive as he cupped your breast in his scarred large hand, his thumb grazing over your nipple. A soft gasp escaped your lips at the sensation, and Azriel's eyes darkened with desire. Leaning down, he placed a heated kiss on each of your peaks, his tongue flicking out to tease before sucking gently.
You bit your lip lightly, to try and compose any sound that dared leave your lips.
“Don’t be shy my love, I want to hear you” Azriel smirked slightly, as he watched your lips then part with his words. A breathy moan escaping your lips.
Azriel could feel his own heat rush to his member, it was hard and pressing tightly against his trousers, but he continued on. Trailing kisses lower down your body, his breath hot against your skin. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a hunger that had been simmering between you both.
You’re not sure how you had resisted for so long. You had felt the desire mounting with every kiss you had shared before, and now you hated yourself a little for depriving yourself of this.
You could feel his rough fingers tugging at the drawband of your pants, slowly pulling them down over your hip bone. He looked at you one last time before completely removing them, leaving you completely exposed to him.
Lying exposed beneath him, you could feel his eyes devouring every inch of your naked body. He was mesmerised by every crevice, curve, freckle, and scar that marked your skin. Grateful to have you, he couldn't help but touch and explore you - his mate, completely and utterly his.
His gaze lingered over your slick folds, glistening with a wetness that was just for him. The scent of you drove him wild, though he had only experienced it a few times before during those intimate moments that always finished too early. It took all of his self-control not to ravish you then and there.
But now, he could. You had given yourself to him in this way, completely and utterly his. His hazel eyes lingered for another moment, a softness in his gaze as he admired your flushed face. Hair sprawled beneath your head.
You had a coy look in your eyes, being so vulnerable and open in front of him. Azriel was grateful you trusted him enough for this, he was going to cherish every moment.
His fingers traced the curve of your hip, you arched your back, inviting him closer. A low growl rumbled in his chest as his gaze locked with yours, promising that this was just the beginning. With a predatory grace, he leaned down and placed a soft, warm kiss on your inner thigh. 
You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as his lips continued to travel lower, leaving a trail of warmth and desire in their wake.
His fingers danced over your flesh, tracing the delicate lines of your thighs, his touch feather-light as he explored every inch. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing loudly that at one point you felt as though that was all you could hear.
You were sure he could sense your arousal through the bond, and you almost sent a begging plea down the thread for him to touch you.
With a playful glint in his eyes, as if understanding, his lips finally reached their destination, your core. You felt a wave of intensity wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan that quickly left your lips, as his tongue danced across your sensitive flesh. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, allowing him complete access.
Azriel's tongue dipped into you, savouring the taste of you, his eyes never leaving yours. You arched your back, your nails digging into the pillow beneath you as his tongue probed deeper, coaxing a soft cry from your lips.
Azriel wanted to hear that cry more. Every day, at any moment he could get. He wanted to hear those sounds leave your lips. A sound he would never tire of.
The pleasure built, a fierce storm of emotion that threatened to consume you whole. Your heart pounded wildly, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as his tongue stroked and teased.
He plunged his fingers inside you, filling you completely. The intensity of the sensation was overwhelming, causing you to cry out his name.
“Azriel…oh Az…”
When he heard his name leave your lips he had to stop himself from cumming at the sound. He was completely drunk on the taste and smell of you, that the sound of you almost sent him over the edge.
Azriel's fingers moved in and out of you, in a rhythm that was both possessive and tender. His thumb brushed against your most sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He was coaxing you to climax, and you could feel the tension building inside you, like a coiled spring about to release.
Your body responded to his touch, the muscles of your core clenching and releasing around his fingers. Your fingers were tangled in his dark hair, flexing and pulling with every clench of your core. Your breaths grew shallower. You could feel the orgasm building, a powerful wave crashing towards you, threatening to consume you whole.
And then, just as you thought you couldn't take any more, he withdrew his fingers and began to lap at your core, his tongue darting and flicking against you. The pleasure was almost too much, each lick and suck driving you closer and closer.
“That’s it angel, let go for me” Azriel spoke between each lick, choosing now to try a new nickname for you.
With a cry of pure ecstasy, you finally reached the peak, your body convulsing as the orgasm washed over you. Your moans and cries were loud, and they felt like music to Azriel’s ears. You could feel his fingers on your hip, his thumbs stroking your skin, and the heat of his lips as he continued to pleasure you as you rode out your orgasm.
As the waves of pleasure began to ebb, he purred, sending vibrations through your core. "You taste amazing,"
You breathed out, a tone filled with lust .”I want to taste you too…” Azriel growled at the thought and pressed his hardness against the mattress.
"Not today, my love. Today, I just want to make you feel good." Despite your attempt to shake your head, his lips reattached themselves to your sensitive bud, sucking lazily and sending shivers down your spine. It felt too good for you to resist or challenge him. 
You lost count of the number of times Azriel made you climax; his name had been moaned for what seemed like hours before exhaustion started to take over. He slowly made his way back up your naked body, his eyes devouring every curve before settling on yours with a tender gaze. He laid beside you, pulling the sheets over your exposed body and pulling you into a tight embrace. 
Soft kisses were pressed to your temple as sleep began to overtake you. 
"I will thank the cauldron every day for allowing you to be mine."
~~~
Next Part >> Hopefully before the end of the month
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geminimoonmadness · 5 months
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ᴘᴏʟᴀʀɪᴛʏ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘꜱ: Masculine & Feminine ☯️
🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍
Each person is has their own unique balance of masculine and feminine energies. These energies are completely different and yet we all embody a combination of both polarities.
🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍
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🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍🩶🖤🤍
When it comes to handling stress, the way that the 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮 will cope with this is to retreat and go inwards. 𝙁𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮 will reach out to her community to discuss problems. The 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚, wants to get away from the problems until he has solutions while the 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚 wants to connect, and experience empathy and support around the problems.
When it comes to mistakes that have been made, the 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮 is very action-driven to find the solution, while the 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚 tends to express their feelings & regret that the mistake even happened and then tries to make up for that mistake being made.
Everyone has both 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚 and 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮, regardless of their gender. Finding a balance can help you feel better about yourself and have more positive interactions with others. Two people with similar energies can love each other, but they can never have passion.
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These traits come from two sources: genetics, and the influence of our parents, particularly the one of the opposite sex who is the first person we meet that is significantly different from us.
For example, young boys tend to be emotional, empathetic, and sensitive, which they learn from their mothers. Young girls are strong-willed and adventurous, which they learn from their fathers. Children are also affected by their parents’ Shadow sides.
As we grow out of infancy, we start seeking independence from our parents, and the easiest way to do this is to start fitting ourselves into the existing identity of gender roles, despite whatever natural 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚 and 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙘𝙪𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙮 we have.
For example: Young boys tend to be emotional, empathetic, and sensitive, which they learn from their mothers. Young girls are strong-willed and adventurous, which they learn from their fathers. Children are also affected by their parents’ Shadow sides.
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If you start to notice which energies are being used then you’re more likely to gain a self awareness that allows you to balance these divine energies a lot easier in your everyday life.
♀𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆 ���𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒚-
Intuitive, grounded, receptive, reflective, strong boundaries, empathetic, compassionate, magnetic, supportive, vulnerable, authentic, open, surrendered, flows through life effortlessly, trusting and creative.
𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒚-
Insecure, needy, codependency, manipulative, inauthentic, victim, over emotional.
♂𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒚-
Deeply present, doesn’t judge, supportive, has discipline, focused, logical, confident, protective, honest, accountable, humble boundaries, has integrity, responsible, offers stability and security.
𝑾𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒚- controlling, aggressive, withdraws, avoids, unstable, abusive, too competitive.
©️Copywrites reserved GeminiMoonMadness
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iibonniee · 5 months
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What's My Name?
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Pairing: Yoo Kihyun x Reader
Genre: Smut, Non!Idol AU
Warnings: Warnings: non-idol!kihyun, sugar daddy!kihyun, unprotected sex, age kink, daddy kink, oral (male receiving), cock worship, bondage, spanking, semi-masterbation
Rating: R
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: Their agreement was something Kihyun had always made sure was followed to the very T. After all, their agreement was signed in ink.
Masterlist | Tags: @beautifulworldandmore @kyunnielove @iamkyunie @doveslittlekpoparchive @dessianna1
Yoo Kihyun was the type of man who did things by the book and followed everything to the letter. He thrived on a well-structured and methodically planned routine. His approach helped him maintain balance in his otherwise chaotic lifestyle, granting him a semblance of serenity amidst the whirlwind of his everyday tasks.
Given his detailed nature, he had the habit of deliberating about every single detail before making decisions. While some might rush in, he took the time to consider every angle, every potential outcome, and every possible risk. This meant he was often slower to act, but his actions were thoughtful and precise.
However, his strict observation of rules and regulations had its disadvantages. While it lent him discipline and structure, it often kept him from exploring uncharted territories, testing innovative solutions to problems, or unleashing his creativity. The fear of stepping outside his comfort zone limited his experiences and sometimes resulted in missed opportunities.
Regardless, Kihyun maintained his orderly existence, content with its safety and predictability. He was the epitome of diligence and consistency—qualities that, for better or worse, came to define his life and career.
And with Kihyun being so by the book and the letter, it also meant that he followed their agreement to the signature. He followed each rule as if it were the law. But she saw the contract as similar to wonder, the lines resembling more suggestive guidelines rather than stipulations carved in stone. Her spirit was wild, seductively erratic, and unpredictable, which was a sweet temptation that she found hard to resist. She often strayed in this spot of their strange relationship, toeing the lines of their carefully designed accord.
Townhouse dinners turned into late-night city escapades. High-profile parties morphed into impromptu starlit picnics. She was the mistress of sly evasion, transgressing the rules in ways that gave her an intoxicated thrill.
Every transgression, however, did not go unnoticed or unpunished.
Kihyun was not oblivious to her playful disregard for their agreement. His commitment to the harshness of the contract was final, starkly contrasting her rebellious behavior. And his response was always swift. He would always ensure that there was no such thing as going behind his back for an enjoyable time out with friends. The friends he strictly disapproved of and made sure were a top rule to not be broken.
Their defined rules were there for a reason, he would tell her. Each rule broken correlated to a conversation—firm yet understanding—trying to drive her back within the lines she’d willingly agreed to. The repercussions for her disobedience were unyielding, yet not harsh unless he wanted them to be; they served as a reminder of their initially agreed-upon terms. The extravagant gifts would be limited, and the exclusive invites would become less frequent, cutting back on the luxuries she held dear. And, of course, if she pushed his buttons just enough, he’d make sure the punishments were much harsher.
Each rule broken meant double the punishment. The punishment only became harsher as one got closer to the top. Kihyun wasn’t sure why she enjoyed pushing his buttons so much. He gave her everything she wanted in favor of loyalty and good dick. So why exactly did she feel the need to push and push?
The house was unnervingly quiet as she returned home late from yet another unapproved escapade. Stepping through the doorway, a sense of unease enveloped her. The house was hushed, a stillness echoing through the lavishly furnished rooms, only disturbed by the ominous ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
As she traveled deeper into their joint space, an isolated figure sat in wait in the dimly lit bedroom. Kihyun was a wraith of discipline, his silhouette imposing against the soft glow of the moonlight filtering in. His usually friendly gaze was replaced with a stern disapproval that filled her with a heady blend of remorse and exhilarating anticipation.
He rose from his chair that sat in the corner, moving with a rigid grace, the tension in the room mounting with each calculated step. He didn’t need to speak for her to know she had broken not one, not two, but three rules in their agreement. Three was the magic number that triggered more severe consequences.
“Three rules,” he said, his voice like ice. His disappointment hung in the air, heavy and tangible, yet there was an underlying concern that she couldn’t miss. The loyalty and affection he held for her were strained but not broken. “Three rules you broke tonight, Y/N? Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
Though sharp and methodical, his words were filled with a weight that made her reconsider her actions. Nonetheless, she held her ground, ready to face the consequences of her boldness. And though each punishment was harsher than the last, she wouldn’t change the person she was, not for all the riches Kihyun showered her with.
She realized she lived for thrill even as she stood in his disapproving shadow. And genuinely, Kihyun was catching on, learning the untamed woman standing before him wasn’t looking for an authority figure but an equal. Only time would reveal the depth of their understanding and the capacity of their adapted routines.
“I need you to answer me, Y/N.” Kihyun spoke up the moment he realized that she wouldn’t answer him. She studied his face carefully. The glow of the moonlight illuminated his stern gaze, casting stark shadows that hinted at the mounting tension.
She held his gaze unflinchingly, watching as understanding flickered within his eyes before morphing into unmistakable exasperation. Heaving a sigh, Kihyun groaned, pacing the room with growing agitation. The somber atmosphere seemed to pulse with his restrained anger, filling the space between them with sticky anticipation for the punishment she knew was imminent.
Eventually, he moved towards the bed, his figure outlined in the moonlight. Sitting down on it, he kicked off his shoes and glanced up at her. The stern set of his mouth and the cool detachment in his eyes sent a thrill of fear coursing through her. Yet, a part of her relished this nerve-racking anticipation, thrilled by the promise of consequences she was likely to face. She took a deep breath when he spread his legs and silently pointed toward the open space between them.
“Since you think it’s okay to break the rules time and time again because you feel like it, let’s make one thing clear. You are not above the consequences,” Kihyun’s voice was firm, not a hint of negotiation available in his tone. His eyes held a grim determination that made her heart pound. “Get on your knees.”
Her breath caught, but she complied, kneeling between his legs. The severity of the situation rolled off Kihyun, an almost palpable aura of authority enveloping her. She steadied herself, forcing down the electric thrill that sparked through her at the prospect of what was to come.
Their dynamic was evolving, growing more complex and layered with each confrontation. What started as a primary order was morphing into an intense game of power and dominance, with her defiance against his authority fueling their relationship’s rising tension and intensity. These encounters electrified her, luring her further into the depths of this thrilling power play. As she knelt there, waiting, Kihyun’s stern gaze rested upon her, promising a lesson she wouldn’t forget.
A chill shot through her body as his cold hand cupped her cheek. What she thought to be a loving smile quickly turned sour as his hand grabbed a fist full of her hair, jerking her head back so that she was forced to look at him.
“Don’t beg me or even think about using the safe word. Tonight, you pushed me to my limit. I have had it with you running around acting like a whore. If you want to act like a whore, I can treat you like one.” Kihyun growled, his voice filled with an edge of frustration and disappointment she had not expected. His usually warm voice was gone, replaced with a harsh tone that made her heart pound painfully in her chest.
The heated fury of his gaze bore into her, and she was pulled back from her thoughts by his fingers tightening around her hair. She gasped in reply, the surprise and pain mingling with a strange sense of anticipation. Seeing him out of control this way was almost exhilarating, even if it was at her expense.
Despite the fear coursing through her, a part of her felt oddly fascinated by this sudden change in him. However, she understood that he was not playing now. This was the punishment he had warned her about. The silence in the room was palpable, the tension thick and suffocating. She found herself swallowing hard, bracing herself against the impending storm she had unconsciously been courting.
She recognized the dangerous glint in Kihyun’s eyes. The moment of heated confrontation was here, a punishment waiting to unfold. It was clear that the evening was about to take a turn down a path she had not entirely anticipated. This was not their usual game; it was something far more intense and real. Steadying her determination, she held onto the strength within her as she prepared for whatever came next in their volatile battleground.
“Take my cock out and suck on it like a good little whore. Don’t even think about not choking on it, either. I want you crying and worshiping my cock. Got it?”
In response to his stern command, she reached for the waistband of his pants, her fingers trembling slightly. Her heart pounded in her chest as she unzipped them, revealing the hardness beneath the fabric that served as a reminder of his dominant authority.
She met his stern gaze directly, signaling her understanding and compliance. Then, slowly, she extends her tongue, running it teasingly along the length of his turgidity. Warm, soft hardness met the cool of her moist tongue, eliciting a responsive shudder from Kihyun.
His hand tangled in her hair, guiding her movements, setting a relentless and satisfyingly sinful rhythm. She could hear the raspy moan reverberate from his chest as she took him deeper into her mouth, his thickness pushing at the back of her throat. His pleasure manifested in the tight grip on her hair and the ragged pants he fought to control.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she fought her gag reflex, the strain evident as she struggled to accommodate him. But there was an intoxicating thrill in the act of submission, the intense satisfaction of being the source of his pleasure.
Embracing the discomfort, tolerating the burning lungs and the ache in her jaw was part of the game, a punishment she was willingly ready to bear. Her dedication firm, she continued, tears streaking down her cheeks, her eyes locked onto his, promising undying obedience in this unvoiced power play.
She gladly took his length into her mouth once more, feeling its hardened pulse against the flat of her tongue. The movement was slow and enticing, her purpose clear in every glide and press of lips against the hot, rigid flesh.
“That’s right,” He hissed, rewarding her with a rough card through her hair, the action making her look up again, an unvoiced affirmation of her obedience. “Just like that… worship it.”
Each word, each command echoed sharply in the charged silence, stirring a heady cocktail of dread and excitement that coiled tight in her belly. Her rhythm faltered just once, but she quickly found it again, the need to not disappoint outweighing physical discomfort.
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked him deeper, the lingering taste of his skin intoxicating, irresistible. Her digits traced the veins on his cock with awe, a testament to his masculinity. Her eyes remained locked on him, an explicit display of submission that reeked of an erotic surrender that suffused the room. Every groan, every twitch of his was duly noted, encouraging her to continue in the act of dutiful worship. It was her testament, her tangible loyalty to his authority wrapped in the veil of the unspoken. The journey to heavy surrender, etched in silence and measured in rhythm, was sinfully unforgettable.
She swept up his length, her lips tight around him as she climbed, a close, slow motion designed to draw out the sweet torment. “Good girl,” Kihyun rasped, his fingers threading through her hair, reinforcing her act of submission. “Worship my cock just like that.”
Her tongue swirled around the swollen head, relishing his salty taste. Her fingers massaged his balls tenderly, adding another layer to the sinful act. With every idle, messily passionate bob of her head, she continued her worship, continuously tracing the tattoo of veins on his shaft, symbolizing his raw strength and power.
His low, throaty moans and how his hands gripped her hair fueled her motivation, seduced by the intoxicating power play. Her eyes lifted to meet Kihyun’s gaze, their raw hunger a testament to her success. The salacious taste and the feel of him in her mouth became her world; nothing else mattered.
She could feel him tense, his breath hitch, signaling his impending release. However, she didn’t relent, determined to see this through, to bring him the ultimate pleasure. Her eyes, glossy with tears, communicated an unspoken promise. She was here, willing and resolved, engaged in the act of intimate worship, refusing to back down from this gloriously revealing power play.
And so, she carried on, her hand firmly around his base, her tongue gliding over the throbbing veins and swollen head with devout veneration. His hissed curses and praises echoed in her ears, mingling with his ragged breaths in a wanton symphony of power and surrender. Her mouth, moist and warm, served as a temple of sinful pleasure dedicated to his satisfaction.
His hips jerked abruptly, his grip on her hair tightened to the edge of pain, and he moaned out a guttural warning. Then, his release’s first shot filled her warm and salty mouth. She swallowed instinctively, not daring to break from her worship.
The next few moments were a blur, his body locked in ecstasy and she, the devotional priestess, accepting his offering. Each pulse of his release marked a victory in their battle for dominance, a testament to her submission.
He gasped her name as the last spurts of his climax hummed in the back of her throat, his figure jerking in the aftershocks of pleasure. Even then, she didn’t break away, carefully cleaning him with her tongue, not letting a single drop of him go to waste.
When she finally pulled away, her eyes met his, mirroring the raw intensity that had fueled their power play. Kihyun, with his dark eyes gleaming in the dim light and his chest heaving, looked every bit the dominant figure he was.
As the tension hovered like an aftertaste in the aftermath of their carnal rendezvous, she savored the victorious satisfaction of a game well played, a testament to the authority she had deliciously delivered.
“Don’t think we’re done just yet.” Kihyun finally spoke as the moonlight showed just how dark his eyes were. “Stand up and strip in front of me.”
She stared at him for a moment, trying to process his words carefully. Her breath hitched in her throat, her cheeks flushing with a powerful mix of embarrassment and anticipation. Always, it had been him who undressed her, but not tonight. Tonight, he was making her bear herself in front of him, leveraging the power dynamics of their encounter.
Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, her legs shaking slightly from the intensity of their previous play. Her hands moved up to the buttons of her shirt, each one coming undone with a tremble of apprehension. Despite the heat still coursing through her, she felt a chill as the cool air hit her skin, immediately making her nipples harden.
Kihyun, always the keen observer, watched her intently. His darkened eyes objectified her unshielded vulnerability as a predator about to pounce his prey, a wolf relishing a moonlit hunt. Feeling his gaze tracking her, she unzipped her skirt next, the piece of fabric sliding down her legs to pool around her ankles. She was a sight to behold in her plain white lingerie, the soft glow of the moonlight casting shadows on her nude body.
Meanwhile, Kihyun had not remained idle. His hand had gripped his once again hardening length, the distinct movement of his arm signaling his self-pleasure as he started masturbating. He groaned, his eyes never leaving her, the sight before him acting as a sensual trigger.
This exhilarating combination of thrill, embarrassment, and vulnerability formed a novel chapter in their explicit dance of dominance and submission, one that she was learning to navigate with each passing second. The silence echoed with an unspoken dialogue of unspoken understanding, transforming their room into an arena of charged intensity. Each pull of Kihyun’s hand, each discarded layer of her clothing, was a pledge, a promise of the pleasures awaiting them in the impending thickness of the night.
“I know you’re trying to figure out what I’m going to do next so you can play off on it,” Kihyun grunted, his eyes traveling over every inch of her body. “Tonight isn’t about you. You’ll be lucky if I even let you cum once.”
Finally standing, Kihyun towed over her. His eyes narrowed at her. Her breath was caught in her throat as she watched him approach, anticipation prickling on her skin. Suddenly, in one swift movement, he gripped her arm, pulling her towards the bed with a force that left her breathless. She landed on the soft mattress, her heart pounding against her rib cage.
She barely had time to adjust before he was unlocking a drawer by the bed and retrieving something shrouded in darkness. A second later, she recognized them as a pair of handcuffs, glinting menacingly in the dim light. Her breath hitched, a mix of fear and anticipation washing over her.
He leaned over her, his hands pinning her down, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. “Remember, tonight, it’s all about me,” he said, his voice a delicious growl that made her squirm. He held her wrists above her head, locking one handcuff after the other swiftly, leaving her restrained and exposed before him. “Your body is mine to use. Mine to punish. Don’t forget that.”
Kihyun sat back, taking a moment to appreciate the sight. His gaze traced the curve of her body, bound and ready for his pleasure. His hand, slick from his efforts, resumed its motion, stroking himself leisurely as he continued to drink in the sight before him.
“Stay put,” he commanded, his voice rumbling with raw desire, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
Fear and arousal danced in her stomach, a tempting mix of emotions that heightened her anticipation. She was there, vulnerable and at his mercy, entrapped in one of the most exhilarating games of dominance and submission she’d ever played. Tonight, she realized, would indeed be a night to remember.
Kihyun, engrossed in his self-indulgence, continued his passive strokes. His dark eyes never left her as he pleasured himself, his intensity creating an aura of raw dominance that was as captivating as it was daunting. His touch on himself was familiar and practiced, eliciting throaty groans that filled the room.
Her gaze was drawn to his hand, which played a close rhythm on his hardened length. His response to the entrancing sight before him was a testament to her effect on him; every twitch and gasp he made only fueled her anticipation and her own growing need.
Kihyun’s dark gaze seared into her, making her squirm under his inspection. He was shameless, knowing just how powerful the sight of him touching himself was. His erect length, slick with his arousal, glistened under the soft light, making her mouth water with the need to taste him again.
After a time that was simultaneously too long and not nearly long enough, Kihyun’s strokes started to slow, his breathing growing ragged. He briefly closed his eyes, savoring the thrills of self-pleasure before opening them again. His gaze was predatory, filled with an insatiable lust that made her shiver in apprehension and arousal.
Purposefully, he propped himself above her, smirking down at her restrained figure. His hand left his length, reaching for the handcuffs to unlock them. However, just as she thought he would finally give in and take her and release her from the handcuffs, he instead guided his pulsing dick against her thigh, reminding her of her undeniable desire for him.
With a devilish grin, he leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient. The night is far from over.” His husky voice promised an avalanche of pleasure that left her throbbing with anticipation for what was to come. She was truly at his mercy tonight, and there was no place she’d rather be. “I want you to beg to touch me, and I won’t even give in. Just like you refuse to listen to the rules I set in place for us. Unfair, isn’t it?���
A devilish chuckle vibrated through her as he unlocked her handcuffs. She sighed in relief, feeling the blood flowing back to her hands, but the respite was short-lived. Suddenly, Kihyun placed his hands on her waist, effortlessly flipping her onto her front.
He adjusted her, positioning her onto hands and knees until she was just as he preferred — her backside on full display for him. Underneath him, his dominance, she felt a twinge of humiliation coupled with a raw, throbbing anticipation. She felt the edge of the bed dip slightly as he moved behind her, allowing her a few precious seconds to regain her composure.
Then, the coldness of the cuffs again, a stark contrast to the heat of her skin, announced their return, this time locking her in place on the bedposts. She was re-stripped of her freedom almost as fast as she’d been granted, a play on her sanity that sent another gush of arousal through her body.
His labored breathing filled the room as she felt him settle behind her, the mattress dipping under his weight. Her body arched instinctively, seeking him out, but he held back. She felt him there, his cock teasing her entrance, yet he made no further move. It was pure torment. Every brushing contact sent bolts of desire shooting up her spine, leaving her panting and desperate.
“Please,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she finally surrendered to his relentless game, begging him for release. But his reply was a deep, throaty laugh that held a promise: the night was, indeed, far from over. His reply echoed in the room, an intoxicating mix of amusement and desire she could almost taste.
“Begging already?” he teased, running his fingers delicately along her entrance. The feeling sent electrifying waves of pleasure through her, her breath hitching at the contact. “You never fail to amuse me.”
He leaned over her, his body heat radiating onto her skin. His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “The rules are simple. I touch, and you feel. You cum when I say so. Not a second before, understand?”
She could only nod, her mouth dry, her body tingling in anticipation. His finger trailed further, stirring a whirlpool of desire that made her want to break the rules he just set. But she refrained, knowing it would only lead to more teasing, more torment. She could feel him grinning against her shoulder, his pleasure palpable in the room.
Then, just when she thought she couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer, she felt him push inside her, slow and relentless. All the air left her lungs as she was filled, the sensation overwhelming her senses. She let out a scream that was swallowed by the emptiness of the room, her body finally succumbing to his dominance.
Kihyun grunted with satisfaction as he buried himself in her, a dark chuckle escaping as he felt the quiver of her body beneath his. He relished her shuddering gasps as he began to move, the initial slow pace quickly escalating into a maddening rhythm that set their bodies on fire. “Look at you, being so obedient,” he taunted. Each word was punctuated by a merciless thrust, the sounds of their bodies colliding, echoing in the space surrounding them. “It’s surprising how obedient you are when you have my cock deep inside you, huh? I find it amusing.”
His unsparing last thrust drew a whimper from her lips, the sensations rippling inside her too intense to bear. “Please,” she gasped. She could barely put the feelings into words; it was overpowering, raw, and intoxicating all at once.
Much to the surprise of her stinging senses, Kihyun’s hand landed a hearty smack on her backside. A loud gasp ripped from her throat, the sudden rush of pain igniting another wave of pleasure. His handprint burned on her skin, underscoring the game of dominance playing out between them.
“That’s right,” he praised, tone smooth as velvet, “You’re doing so well.” The sound of another slap resonating from their entangled bodies only added to the symphony of their pleasure - a raw reminder of his control over her. “Taking Daddy’s cock like a good fucking slut.”
He drove into her relentlessly, his grip on her hips bruising yet somehow comforting in its firmness. The sting of his hand on her ass had her gasping, chasing the peculiar blend of pain and pleasure that radiated from the point of contact. His voice echoed in the room, lacing her mind with a hearty dose of satisfaction.
“That’s it, baby,” he growled in her ear, his voice husky. The words vibrated through her, his praises a turn-on that enhanced the sensations coursing through her. His next thrust was particularly fierce; a resounding smack filled the air as his hand collided with her ass again. She yelped; the unexpected collision sent electrifying jolts of pleasure straight to her center.
“You love it when I spank you, don’t you?” he taunted, another hard slap punctuating his gravelly tone. The sharp sensation was swiftly followed by the gentleness of his hand, fingers tracing the tender area, soothing the ignited skin.
He resumed his pace, a relentless rhythm that promised to tip her over the edge. His name spilled from her lips, a prayer amid moans that echoed around them, bouncing off the stark walls and diving into the abyss of pleasure they were entangled in.
Her anticipation soared as his thrusts became more forceful and urgent, a testament to his nearing climax. As her body trembled on the precipice, he leaned over to whisper in her ear, his voice saturated with desire, “Beg for me, sweetheart. Show me just how much you need to cum.” The sinful request echoed in her head, the edge she was balancing on becoming more precarious. “And maybe Daddy will be kind enough to let you cum.”
Desperation clawed at her as she writhed beneath him, each thrust driving her closer to the precipice. A broken, needy sound slipped past her lips, “Please, Kihyun.”
He merely chuckled at her plea, his fingers tracing a burning path down her quivering stomach. His face was a study of lust and control, pupils dilated, and lips curved ever so slightly. “That wasn’t begging, sweetheart,” he chided, the tips of his fingers dancing tantalizingly near her overstimulated clit. “If you want to cum, beg for it correctly.”
Overwhelmed by the whir of sensations, every nerve in her body screamed at his restrained touch. She felt her walls tighten around him purposefully, trying to draw him deeper. Still, he resisted, merely grinning at her feeble attempts to control the situation.
With a whimper, she tried to plea once more, but the name came out wrong. “Kihyun, please,” she murmured, her voice shaky in the dim room. The moment the words tumbled from her lips, she could see it was not what he wanted to hear. He arched an eyebrow at her, a silent prompt for the correction he awaited.
Swallowing hard, she corrected herself, her cheeks flaring with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “Please, Daddy,” she corrected hastily, her voice desperate in the quiet room. The shift in her address was a tangible submission, an acceptance of the sinful game they were entangled in. Her begging voice, the plea laced with an innocent rawness, filled the room, emphasizing the control he had over her. “Let me cum, please.”
His next thrust, directed with surgical precision, rubs against her sweet spot that sends pleasure-like sparks through her. Her desperate moan filled the room, her body bowing as if struck by an electric shock. His hand tangled into her hair, pulling back her head as he hushed her gently, “Begging now, are we?”
She nodded, cried out, lost in the intoxicating blend of pleasure and anticipation. She felt his grin against the pulse point on her neck, a sinful promise of a climax that was just out of her reach. “Beg me properly,” he continued, his voice sending shivers down her spine. His firm hands propped her hips for a deeper angle, stoking the flames of her desire.
Give and take, push and pull. Kihyun was the master of their sordid game, drawing puckish pleasure from her desperate pleas. Defeated, she surrendered to her erupting desire. “Please, Daddy,” She whined, her voice desperate and raw, “I need to cum.”
Before the echoes of her words had faded away, he buried himself deeper into her, his pace meeting her every wish. “Daddy’s giving you what you asked for,” he growled, his words broken by gasps of pleasure, “Cum for me, sweetheart.”
And like a dam breaking, her world exploded in colors as he kept true to his promise. His ruthless thrusts drove her higher and higher until she spiraled in an endless roll of pleasure. It was sinful and wild, a testament to their passion burning raw and relentless.
“Sweetheart, I’m…” His voice was gravelly, strained with his nearing climax. His grip on her hips tightened, his body tensed, and he pushed deep inside her in one final, powerful thrust. Lunging deep, he held himself in place, releasing a guttural groan that reverberated throughout the room.
His warmth filled her, his release marking her from within, causing her to gasp at the unexpected but welcomed intensity. His climax came like a tidal wave, crashing over them with a force that was both tantalizingly torturous and delightfully sinful. Milky evidence of his fulfillment lingered within her, satisfying proof of his passionate surrender.
After catching his breath, he uncuffed her, their bodies still intertwined. Despite the rawness of their encounter, his weight over her provided a reassuring warmth. Their breathing, while sporadic, began to synchronize - a fitting epilogue to the frantic rhythm they had shared just moments before. Their intermingled sweat painted a canvas of carnal desires and unrestrained satisfaction. The tangible presence of their shared climax remained engraved on their bodies, a trophy of their primal dance. In the quiet, he craned his neck and, with a tantalizingly slow pace, brushed his lips against her pulse point, making her shiver. His voice, now husky from their shared exertions, sent a new wave of warmth rushing down her spine.
“Look at you, so content,” He murmured, tracing her curves with a possessive touch that echoed their sinful indulgence. His eyes glinted wickedly in the dim room. “Such a well-behaved girl when you know Daddy has control, aren’t you?”
He let out a soft chuckle, his breath fanning against her, causing her eyes to flutter open. Beneath his gaze, she felt cherished, adored, laid bare by his sinful words. It was a promise, whispered in the silence of their shared satisfaction - a promise of more such sinful nights, testing their boundaries and losing themselves at new heights of ecstasy. And amidst the lingering haze of lust, she eagerly looked forward to nights that awaited them.
His voice deepened as he leaned in, his words a husky whisper against the shell of her ear. “I promise you, sweetheart, if you dare to break the rules again, the punishments will be much more severe.” A visceral thrill ran through her at his promise, a shudder of anticipation rippling through her body.
His hand gently traced her lower abdomen; his fingers danced lightly over her skin as his eyes held a sinful glimmer. “Next time, I might just breed you,” he murmured, the implications of his words causing heat to rush to her cheeks. “Imagine that, you running around with my baby inside you. Won’t that be a sight?”
His grin was wicked, a vulture biding his time. “Your friends they will be curious, no doubt, about who got you pregnant. They’ll ask who the father is, and you?” He paused, his thumb rubbing small circles on her warm skin, “You’ll know it was the older man that had you crying out his name until the dead of night.”
His words trailed off into a low, satisfied hum, his fingers lazily drawing patterns on her flushed skin. The implications of his sinful promise hung heavy in the air, a tantalizing prospect she was not sure she was ready for. He had marked her tonight in the most intimate of ways, and as she looked at him, a silent understanding passed between them.
“You are mine.”
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tradgays · 4 months
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10 Qualities of a Good Househusband
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Being a stay-at-home househusband is no easy job. It requires dedication and an abundance of specific qualities that can make it a successful and rewarding endeavor. As a submissive gay man, if you’re contemplating taking on such a role, here are ten qualities that can make you an exceptional stay-at-home househusband.
1. Patience – Patience is essential as a stay-at-home househusband. Whether faced with challenging recipes or stubborn stains, having the ability to remain calm and persevere is a huge plus. Without this, your role as a househusband could be filled with frustration and regret.
2. Creativity – An imaginative and resourceful mind is just as important as patience. The ability to come up with innovative approaches to everyday tasks can make your role as a househusband an enjoyable one.
3. Attention to Detail – As a stay-at-home househusband, it’s invaluable to be able to pay attention to the details and ensure that all tasks are completed to exact specifications. It could take some time and practice, but being able to notice things others don’t can make you efficient and precise.
4. Multitasking – When tasks pile up, multitasking becomes a necessity. It’s important to be able to handle multiple tasks at once, as well as prioritize and delegate appropriately. This way, you can get everything done in a timely fashion.
5. Flexibility – Flexibility is key in a role as a stay-at-home househusband. Possessing an open mindset and the willingness to adjust to last-minute changes or surprises is important to ensure success.
6. Resilience – As a stay-at-home househusband, life can be hectic at times. It’s important to be able to take on setbacks and failures with resilience and use them as opportunities to improve. Having a positive attitude makes for a better househusband.
7. Humility – Being humble is a virtue, and it’s a particularly important quality if you’re a stay-at-home househusband. Recognizing the limits of your role and humbly serving your husband and your home is invaluable for the success of your role.
8. Punctuality – There’s nothing like being late when it comes to house chores. Punctuality is an important quality in a stay-at-home househusband as it can create a sense of stability and security in the home.
9. Problem Solving – A problem-solving mindset is critical for a stay-at-home househusband. Being able to come up with creative solutions to challenging tasks or making the most of scarce resources is essential for a successful househusband.
10. Compassion – Last but definitely not least, having a compassionate and understanding attitude towards the tasks that await you can make all the difference. Showing empathy can collective add up to make your stay-at-home househusband journey a rewarding one.
Being a stay-at-home househusband is not for the faint of heart. It requires an abundance of specific qualities, but with the right attitude, these qualities can be nurtured and refined. Remember, with enough patience, practice, and dedication, you will be a successful and proud stay-at-home househusband in no time.
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sillyrabbit81 · 1 year
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I al obsessed with your story ‘Even If You Don’t Mean It’! No shade to the many writers on here but it’s been a while for me to find a story that I can dig my teeth in - where character development, setting and story pace is great and you succeed in all of this! Thank you for this gift ha ha - hope to see more stories featuring Sy (new love unlocked lol) and all of Henry’s characters because you’re a phenomenal writer ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Hi
Thank you very much for your lovely words. I'm so glad you enjoyed that story and that you thought it was well written.
I have written A LOT of Syverson a couple of series and a lot of one shots. Here is a link to my Syverson masterlist.
There are a lot of great Sy series out there from other writers, here are a few I can think of right now:
@just-chirpin Eyes That See Your life consists of caring for others. This is a story of you learning to care for yourself.
@thesaucynomad No Morals It’s a continuing series of episodic parts centred around Sy, after getting out of the army.  It’s gonna contain graphic spice here and there as the timeline progresses.
@mayloma Of Investments and Returns Due to global economic troubles, Sy was forced to sell most of his company's shares to investors. Much to his displeasure, the investors commissioned a business consultancy to check the company for potential savings and optimization. Dahlia Lewis is one of the unwelcome visitors. And she will soon begin to get under his skin in a different way.
@invisibleanonymousmonsters Syverson After Y/N’s job declares that employees may continue working remote for as long as they want, she wonders if this is sign from the universe to take a break from New York City. When her crazy cousin finds out, she begs Y/N to spend a year with her in Texas. For some crazy reason, Y/N agrees. A true city girl and a northerner, Y/N immediately feels like a fish out of water in the south. And her cousin’s friends enjoy teasing her for all their differences – especially a certain Ethan Syverson.
@peternoonewantsthat Shug and Sy series Masterlist An ongoing series of oneshots following the everyday life of Captain Syverson and his family.
@rmtndew Where Kindness Grows The Great Depression took its toll on a lot of people and some had to get creative to survive. Seraphina’s father decides his solution is to sell his only daughter to a much older man. But when Sy overhears a conversation about the young woman, he makes a decision that will change his life - and Seraphina’s - forever.
@angryschnauzer As Sweet As Honey Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?
@poledancingdinos Girls Night Out
@littlefreya Lines In The Sand She is one of the best snipers serving in Iraq, but she is also suffering from an attitude problem and ironically has a hard time following orders. After an incident in her former base, she is sent to join the Special Forces unit led by Captain Syverson, who requires a talented sniper. Unlucky for her, Captain Syverson is a hard man who likes things by the book and according to order. He ain’t got the patience for troublemakers.
@winter2112rose A Captain and his Cowgirl A series of one -shot stories about how one meeting on a night out, changes the life of a young solider, Travis ‘Sy’ Syverson, forever. Giving him the one thing he’s always dreamed of, a family. The stories are in the correct chronological timeline. 
@wolvesandhoundshowltogether Kissed By Fire Petra’s small art studio takes fire and a beefy cocky soldier-turned-firefighter is among the responding fire crew members. The acquaintance wouldn’t be long-lived but Lieutenant Syverson accidentally👀 takes something that belongs to her.
@viking-raider Southern Generation After more than a decade of service, Captain Syverson as retired from the military, but now that he is retired, he still needs to find a job.
Feel free to add anymore to this list!
❤️ Rabbit
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biiedwin8 · 5 months
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How to Overcome Maladaptive Daydreaming
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Let’s first understand that maladaptive daydreaming is an instance where you find yourself constantly daydreaming for an extended period of time, to the point that it distracts you from your day-to-day activities. You may do this for hours consecutively or have moments where you escape into this imaginary world.
Stopping MDD (Maladaptive Daydreaming Disorder) is a complex process that requires a nuanced understanding of its underlying mechanisms. Unlike some conscious behaviors or habits that you can simply decide to quit, MDD operates differently. It's crucial to recognize that MDD is not the root cause itself but rather a symptom of underlying psychological and emotional processes.
Initially, MDD often begins innocently with what can be termed 'normal daydreaming.' Daydreaming, in moderation, is a natural and even healthy human activity. It allows the mind to wander, explore creative ideas, and occasionally escape from the demands of everyday life. During this phase, daydreaming remains a controllable and manageable activity for most individuals.
However, for some, especially when confronted with stress, anxiety, or other emotional triggers, daydreaming can evolve into a means of coping. This shift occurs gradually, often unnoticed, as daydreams start to offer a refuge from reality. The daydreams may be populated with pleasant or idealized scenarios, which serve as an enticing escape from the challenges and stresses of daily life.
As this pattern persists and deepens, it can transform into what we now term as 'maladaptive daydreaming.' At this stage, daydreaming becomes increasingly uncontrollable. It's as if there's an involuntary, subconscious pull toward these immersive fantasies that can overpower your conscious efforts to resist them. This involuntary pull happens beyond your immediate awareness, making it challenging to simply 'snap out of it.'
Imagine it as a powerful current in a river. Initially, you could swim against it, but as it grows stronger, it becomes nearly impossible to fight. You may still recognize that it's happening, but the ability to consciously stop or control it diminishes. The daydreams become a compelling force that pulls you in, often without your conscious consent or awareness.
Dealing with the Root Cause
One of the primary factors that propel maladaptive daydreaming is emotional triggers in one's real life. These triggers often include stress, anxiety, and boredom. When individuals are confronted with these emotional states, they may turn to daydreaming as a coping mechanism. It provides an escape from the overwhelming emotions or a way to fill a void left by boredom.
Crucially, it's essential to understand that these triggers are not the root causes of maladaptive daydreaming but rather catalysts. They set the stage for excessive daydreaming to become a problem. Therefore, merely attempting to suppress daydreaming without addressing these emotional triggers is unlikely to yield long-term success.
Each individual has unique coping mechanisms for dealing with stress, trauma, or emotional struggles. For some, it manifests as maladaptive daydreaming, while others might resort to toxic relationships or even substance addiction. The choice of coping mechanism can vary widely from person to person, depending on their life experiences and psychological makeup.
In summary, the path to stopping maladaptive daydreaming is not a simple one. It involves recognizing that daydreaming is often a symptom of deeper emotional struggles and triggers. To break free from this behavior, it's essential to address these root causes, seek professional guidance, and develop healthier coping mechanisms. This process needs conscious effort and dedication but it offers a more sustainable and lasting solution to overcome maladaptive daydreaming and regain control of one's life.
Note from the Author
If you’re ready and you’d like my help with overcoming and managing maladaptive daydreaming without spending years in therapy, then you can book a FREE BREAKTHROUGH CALL with me HERE. Happy healing 💙💙. Feel free to share and comment! Use this information with caution, it comes from my own thoughts & bias, experiences and research😊.
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sun-roach · 8 months
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Hey There! I hope you're doing well.
I keep getting confused. Can you answer this ask by briefly describing your OCs? or you can link the post where you have done that. Also, how do you keep track of so many different OCs? I tried to do that and it did not go well. I kept getting everyone mixed up :(.
Hello there🧡✨
Ofc I can briefly describe them or at least try to make it brief😂
I think I once posted a short description of some of them, but I forgot to put it on the masterlist (grrr i really need to update that list😂)
Okay so I will start with Rainbow squad first.
Rainbow squad is a special force squad of the Coruscant Guards lead by Sergeant Strife under Thorn's command.
They do investigations, clear the lower levels of Coruscant, take care of terrorists and drug cartels, but they also help out guarding Senators or accompany Thorn's other squads as reinforcement.
They are a squad for any mission. Fox threw the squad randomly together.
The name 'rainbow squad' comes from Sticker, because he really wishes to see a real rainbow and the other’s didn’t care much about their squad name.
Now to the squad members:
Sergeant Strife:
Strife is a former arc trooper and operates under Thorn's direct command. He likes harmony and peace, but everyday he somehow finds himself in a strife, hence his name. But since he likes harmony so much he will try his best to solve anyones problem… with his bare hands. He won’t shy away punching anyone to the ground just to have some peace again. Strife is very caring of others, which makes him appear like the buir of his squad. He loves stars, likes to sew and crochet and is the only squad member who can cook okay.
Now Redd:
Redd is the sniper of the squad and an arc trooper. He loves red and will collect anything red he sees. He is also a kleptomaniac so better hide any jewelry if you are near him. Most often no one notices being robbed by him. Redd loves to flirt and embarrass himself at 79's. But despite his flirty nature he is very loyal to the one he decides to commit to. Redd had several traumatic experiences (being almost sexually assaulted and another time being tortured and whipped for informations). He doesn’t talk about and instead drowns his memories in alcohol.
Next is Cuyan:
Cuyan wasn’t a Corrie. He was part of the GAR, a normal trooper. He lost his whole battalion to an explosion caused by Separatists. Half of his body burned and it’s a miracle that he survived. But because of that he was sent into prison with the assumption that he sold critical informations to the separatists. He didn’t. Someone wanted to just get rid of him. He doesn’t know who and doesn’t know why. What he knows is that no one really cares about clones. Cuyan got bailed out by Fox who took him into the coruscant guards since they need more men. He is stubborn and closed his heart away from anyone. But his new squad started to grow on him anyway and he would do anything for them.
The second arc of the squad is Sticker:
He is Redd's batch mate and got his name for sticking to his brothers like a Sticker. He is very optimistic, clingy and energetic. But also a little naive, trusting, loyal and smart. He is the one liked by anyone. Not even anti-clone Senators want to harm him. There is barely anyone who hates him. He loves to create new weapons and finds creative solutions when his brothers don’t see any way out. Sticker also always has a holo of a tooka with him to show it to anyone looking sad. That tooka isn’t even his.
And the last member of rainbow squad, Stitch:
Stitch is a clone medic. He got his name because his face is covered by stitches, which he got during his time on Kamino. Stitch is very anxious since he got out of the tube and always fears the worst. But he is a very skilled medic and always tries to get better. He often forgets the time, ending up skipping sleep because he was fixating on his studies. Stitch is the one who gives anyone a little kiss or hug after any treatment.
Now the other three.
I will start with Kavi since he is an honorable member of rainbow squad.
Kavi is the right hand of a Senator from a wealthy planet. Like the clones he hasn’t rights and was born to serve his Senator. The only reason why the republic doesn’t see him as a slave is him getting paid. Though he doesn’t have much choice but to work as the right hand and do what he is told. Kavi got taught in many things such as combat, piloting, sewing, cooking, anything that would come in handy for his Senator. His biggest dream is to become a pilot. Kavi loves weird things, can be weird and chaotic himself but he is very loving and fights for justice while looking pretty in any dress or suit. And he is Strife’s boyfriend
Now Patcher.
Patcher was in a batch with Neyo, Bacara and Gree before he got put into medical training. He is the chief medic of the coruscant guards and one of the oldest clones. Patcher is the Ori'vod of the guard and the only one who can give Fox medical treatment. The chief medic is victim to several abuses and assaults. His whole body is covered by scars , and he lost one of his eyes, having it replaced by a cybernetic one. His colored his other eye red by himself to make himself look even more intimidating, so no one would dare to get close to him again. He fears of trusting, fears everyone except the vode. Which is why he stopped leaving the corrie headquarters. Patcher can be very rough but he is also very cary and he loves blue milk.
And then there is Fork my precious bby.
Fork is the lieutenant of the 107th attack battalion. He is Strife's batch mate and actually got promoted to commander, but he refuses to take the title since the previous commander was dear to him and he still hopes for him to return. Fork got his name because he loves forks. He would even eat soup with a fork. He got teased a lot for it but his batch mate always loved and accepted him for who he is, making himself accept his name. Fork has severe survivors guilt, believes that his batch mates died because of him, thinking he should have died instead. In his battalion he has no one he is close with since everyone mostly teases him, sees him as a 'freak', because he doesn’t talk. He only talks if he is either comfortable or if his job demands him to. Otherwise he will use his hands to communicate which is easier and more comfortable for him. Fork feels immensely, is very aware of others emotions and actions and all he wants is to save innocent people. Keep as many alive as possible. I could talk more about him but jfjdjdnnd this is getting very long😂😂
As for how i keep track of my ocs…
They live in my head. I forget a lot of stuff about them too but the core of them lives in my head. They all have some part of me in them which probably helps keeping up?
Strife has my need for harmony
Redd has my loyality
Cuyan my loneliness
Sticker my inner child
Stitch my anxieties
Kavi my weirdness and love for energy drinks
Patcher my trust issues
And fork the feeling of being an outcast and also the heaviness of emotions, making talking very difficult
I also smt make notes to remind myself about other details i assigned to them.
But most often everything is just very intuitive for me
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rabble-dabble · 11 months
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hi. i know it's been a while and i'm sorry for that.
i guess if you'd just like to know what's going on click the readmore?
if you don't wanna read that though, tldr is that i'm starting to draw hs characters for art practice, and that i'm doing this art "series" (i guess?) for myself to improve. oh, and that life is hard sometimes.
so this isn't really easy to say, and especially not to the internet with a buncha strangers following me (haha) but truthfully, i've been having a hard time both with art and with life lately.
i feel like i'm not keeping up with consistency or the expectations i set for myself with art both on this blog and off. i keep finding myself unsatisfied, disgusted, or just disappointed with how my art turns out, or the ending piece. i feel like i used to know where my art was going, and now i've somehow lost sight. i know the individual things i need improvement on (backgrounds, objects, animals, feet anatomy, colour techniques, body shapes, etc etc etc) but it all just feels like so much and if i get practice on one thing, i stop drawing for a while and i just lose the practice i learned.
so i kinda came up with a solution. draw all the hs characters again - interesting, right? (/s). but i'm not gonna do this for the blog (so, sorry followers). i'm gonna do it for me. no expectations, i don't have a set time limit so no stressing myself, and i just draw the characters as i'd like, trying to improve. this is also to just help myself with wanting to draw again - i draw IRL almost everyday, but nothing that i want or that's...well, artistic/creative. i want to create, like it's eating underneath me in my soul, but i can't find myself to do anything more than pencil sketches.
that kinda brings me to my other problem lately: real life. haha.
if you've been following me long enough, you know i don't really post about my IRL problems here, or especially not to this extent. yeah, i've had my one or two vent posts, but i try to keep it off here because a part of me knows its no benefit to have that kind of depressing, low-self esteem stuff on an art blog that i reblog minecraft and john/kat to.
but truthfully, i don't just wanna pretend it's sunshine and rainbows on here. i'm so tired, and i'm stressed, and i've been through the emotional woodchipper lately that i can barely keep my head on straight. yes, i'm trying to get help for all this (i have a doctors appointment soon, and i'm gonna try and get all my diagnosis in order and get therapy, etc) but i'm not coping well with everything that's been happening to me lately, and i can't keep trucking on the same way i have been like i'm more emotionally stable than i actually am.
i'm sorry if i've been acting more bitter, distant, or just different lately. i'm just exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally, and i'm starting to run out of energy to just function in my day-to-day. i actually cried at work the other day (for the first time!) for feeling so overwhelmed with everything i had to do (both in my job and outside of it, fuck retail btw it sucks). i have small support in friends and family, but they're not the type of support i genuinely need to function and keep myself healthy. and i can't rely on them in ways that aren't their responsibility, or that i truly need help with.
i'm not trying to air out ALL my dirty laundry here (hehehe) but i just felt like it was better to say i'm struggling emotionally then to just pretend i wasn't struggling at all. if i was a healthier person i probably wouldn't be venting here in the first place, but then again i probably wouldn't have all these problems hanging over me either, lol.
just...have patience with me, please. i just want life to be a little kind, or at least kind enough to get me to my first therapy appointment.
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omegaphilosophia · 5 months
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Unraveling the Many Facets of Intelligence: Beyond IQ
In the realm of human cognition, intelligence stands as a multifaceted gem, with each facet representing a unique dimension of mental ability. Intelligence is not a monolithic concept; rather, it encompasses various aspects, each contributing to our capacity to navigate, understand, and interact with the world around us.
Here are some of the key aspects of intelligence:
Cognitive Intelligence: This is often what people think of when they refer to intelligence. It encompasses problem-solving abilities, critical thinking, reasoning, and the capacity to acquire and apply knowledge. It's commonly measured through IQ tests.
Emotional Intelligence (EQ): EQ involves understanding and managing one's own emotions and the emotions of others. It's crucial for effective interpersonal relationships, empathy, and social awareness.
Creativity: Creative intelligence relates to the ability to generate novel ideas, approaches, and solutions. It involves thinking "outside the box" and coming up with original concepts.
Practical Intelligence: Also known as "street smarts," practical intelligence is the ability to adapt to and thrive in real-world situations. It involves common sense, problem-solving in everyday life, and adapting to various life challenges.
Analytical Intelligence: This is the capacity to break down complex problems into their components, understand the relationships between these components, and use logic and critical thinking to solve problems.
Memory: Memory is an essential aspect of intelligence. It involves the ability to store, retrieve, and apply information. Different types of memory include short-term memory, long-term memory, and working memory.
Social Intelligence: Social intelligence relates to an individual's ability to navigate complex social situations effectively. It includes skills such as understanding social norms, communication, and forming relationships.
Learning Ability: Intelligence is closely tied to an individual's capacity to learn. This includes the speed at which new information is acquired and the effectiveness of the learning process.
Intuition: Intuition is a type of intelligence that involves making decisions based on "gut feelings" and past experiences rather than explicit reasoning. It's often linked to pattern recognition and subconscious information processing.
Intrapersonal Intelligence: This is an aspect of intelligence related to self-awareness, self-regulation, and understanding one's own thoughts and emotions. It's crucial for personal development and self-improvement.
Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence: This type of intelligence is associated with physical skills and coordination. Athletes, dancers, and artisans often excel in bodily-kinesthetic intelligence.
Linguistic Intelligence: Linguistic intelligence involves proficiency in language, including speaking, writing, and understanding complex written and spoken content. It's a central aspect of effective communication.
Mathematical-Logical Intelligence: This is the capacity to work with numbers, perform mathematical operations, and apply logical reasoning to solve problems. It's highly relevant in fields like mathematics, science, and engineering.
Spatial Intelligence: Spatial intelligence refers to the ability to understand and manipulate spatial relationships, visualize objects and scenes, and navigate effectively. It's crucial for activities like map-reading, architecture, and artistic design.
Naturalist Intelligence: Proposed by Howard Gardner, naturalist intelligence relates to the ability to understand, appreciate, and work with the natural world. It involves skills such as recognizing and categorizing living organisms and understanding natural systems.
Existential Intelligence: Some scholars propose that existential intelligence relates to contemplating deep philosophical and existential questions about life, death, and the human experience.
These aspects of intelligence are interrelated and can be developed and enhanced through learning, experiences, and various educational and life experiences. Different individuals may excel in specific aspects of intelligence, and this diversity contributes to the richness of human capabilities and potential.
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k-apme-h-salzc-a · 3 months
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Sorry to whine but I am probably the most lonely person, I haven't had a job in ages, I have been with some friend for years but then it didn't worked anymore. If I didn't had my mother to help me, I would be probably dead by now or completely on my own. Now I am suffering and going through everyone and asking for help, it often feels wrong to my core. Because I feel no one knows actually anything and everyone just falls from their own experiences and oftentimes my life is so far different then from most people. Yeah I know you probably think what an arrogant person I must be. But actually, I just long for being with real friends and a little bit happy creative again and just have a bit stability and safe place ( writing this out of a psychosomatic clinic) I wonder why I must since years feel so sad and suffer and now be here and it's not better. I have had adventures and good times a lot and I am thankful for them, they teached me a lot, but it's not the only solution because I don't know how to use what I have learned, cause I am around the wrong people. It seems very lonely and it's wrong for me this social isolation feels the worst. I need some friend to hang out with. People don't like needy people or people who seem troubled. It makes my heart only weeker. Cause I can understand it. But actually, I am talented but I have also been too alone. There have been times where I enjoyed it, but not anymore. I feel this need so strongly because I didn't had it for such a long time. I want to be with the people who are my friends, I know they exist and I just have to find them and everything would be okay. I am kudt so tired. It's sad to see myself sad like that and vekng confronted now here everyday with people who have immensely problems in their Life and Talk about their traumas and experiences doesn't really help. Because I don't wanna measure myself on them. I can't stand to hear it. I cannot and I don't want to . Also, this place makes me feel insecure Like so many other places if it's sucking the energy I have left inside my soul out of me or if I am just overdramaticly give up too quickly? I just want someone who genuinely cares about me. I know some do, and I wish I could meet them. I have so much Love to give and I see the Potential in me and I believe in me too.
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Have you ever invested yourself so much into a craft and/or career that it has taken over your entire personal life? In my case, I went from being a stage actor/server(waiter). As time does, I aged and got tired of dealing with other people and their personal issues. So I swayed to the kitchen life. Now! Understand, I’m not a perfect human being and has many know… the BOH(back of house) lifestyle/people you meet is a YO-YO. We are all damaged. Almost all of us looking for a home. A sense of belonging. Brotherhood or sisterhood. A family. But this industry will chew you up and spit you out. Literally. The family members And coworkers I’ve lost to the crippling depression and the eagerness to want to work and numb everything else out of life. I absolutely remember my brothers and sisters from the culinary field in the beautiful light they shed through their work and creativity. But… those lives lost… live through me. I don’t exactly know where I’m getting at with this post… just know you are not alone. There is ALWAYS someone who will listen, who will care. Take those bruises and cuts from everyday life, but, always remember this. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Don’t hurt the ones you love. Once that deed is done you don’t know how your loved ones will react and you can’t help them when you’re gone.
Love, peace, and chicken grease.
Don’t worry, I’m still here.
PMRockstar.
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remembercomic · 5 months
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Competing With The Optimal
In the long history of Minecraft, there is a handful of recurring game design elements that have appeared quite prominently amongst the various mods made for the game. Ore multiplication, item transportation, automated crafting, etc.
Of particular note at this time is that third one: crafting, because as of Java Edition version 1.20.3, the developers at Mojang have added the Crafter. After 12 years since formal release version 1.0, the unmodified version of Minecraft may soon have its own solution for automated crafting.
In terms of its design, the Crafter is a fresh entry in a troublingly-long series of changes made to the game that introduce a solution to a problem that obviates all others. It has exceedingly few drawbacks and occupies only a single space in the cubic grid, rendering any attempts to address the challenge of auto-crafting irrelevant if they don't somehow occupy an even smaller footprint. Its user interface is unique, in that slots can be toggled on or off, preventing them from receiving items whilst still contributing to the composition of crafting recipes. It even spits out the crafted product when triggered, either into the open world to be collected by the player or into an adjacent inventory, including other Crafters.
How then do mod developers compete? How can they reclaim some ground in what has historically been one of the high notes of virtually any mod with a solution?
Well frankly, they can't. Like the Shulker Box and the Elytra, the Crafter is a solution that renders the problem trivial, so the modders need to do something more creative with the solution in a way that complements rather than attempts to exceed it.
For the purposes of the Tricksy Foxes project, there are two blocks that attempt this: The Work Table and the Clockwork Friar.
The Work Table (planned only days before the Crafter's announcement) serves as a mid-point in the evolution from Crafting Table to Crafter. It has an inventory, it can still be used for crafting, and if triggered can craft its inventory according to a matching recipe. It does not have toggleable slots nor can it dispense its product into an inventory, but it can serve very well as a crafting table with built-in storage or a simple compacter (a form of recipe common in modded and unmodded gameplay). Relative to the Crafter, it's also quite cheap, requiring only humble wood to create.
The Clockwork Friar is almost a step beyond the Crafter, but comes with its own drawbacks in comparison. A programmable automaton, the Friar similarly has an inventory like the Work Table, but can only hold up to 9 items at the most. This informs it of the recipe it is to process and, when triggered, it siphons the ingredients from neighbouring inventories directly instead of needing them piped in. It can also be triggered with a simple interaction, with no inherent need for complex wiring. However, it is twice the size of the Crafter and Work Table, like the Crafter cannot be used for everyday crafting, and like the Work Table cannot deposit its product.
Ultimately, neither of these blocks seeks to directly compete with the Crafter, but rather to serve as useful tools in their own specific use-cases. In the context of Tricksy Foxes, a mod based around automation using behaviour trees, they serve as a means to easily enable the foxes to craft items, an action that would be overwhelmingly complex if it were performed solely inside of the behaviour tree implementation itself.
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zemagltd · 1 year
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Everyday Poetry - "It's very important that we re-learn the art of resting and relaxing. Not only does it help prevent the onset of many illnesses that develop through chronic tension and worrying; it allows us to clear our minds, focus, and find creative solutions to problems."
Thich Nhat Hanh
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zitrus-indigo · 8 months
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Thoughts on video games (some of these also are about phones)
First off, every side (gamers and non gamers) are being too hard on each other :
Non gamers might be nicer than you think.
Some of the person that are worried about people spending too much time on video games might show genuine concern for you to discover other things in your life, do your important stuff and for you to not get health issues.
Most of them don’t know much about video games and new technology can be unusual, scary, with our era of constant information, it can be very easy to fall into a unfounded belief that video games are the one responsible for people being influenced and doing crimes.
Gamers just want to spend their time the way they want without people dictating what they should do with their lives. «Video games make people violent», people that do violent acts after playing video games generally have mental issues because most people are able to separate fiction from reality and don’t do violent acts because they have empathy. I’m pretty sure that if you read about every person that committed a violent after playing video games, you would find that these people already had a problem in the first place. Not all video games are violent and not all have shock value because age restrictions exists. Video games mostly don’t shock you unless you’re haven’t be a teen yet, at most they make you cry because you feel for your favourite characters going through things, but you could say the same thing about reading books. Yes it is more visual than reading a book, but video games developers make an effort to tone down the shocking value, unless you’re in a 18+ rated video game where gore is present. «Video games kill creativity and makes us socialize less», both of these are true to an extent. It depends on your comsuption of video games. Multiplayer video games are an opportunity to extend the game variety you play with your friends and family. Singleplayer video games can be played with a person watching you playing video games and making helpful comments during your game. Every video game allows for fans to create a community where they discuss the game. Video games often end up being a conversation subject for many people with their friends and family. Video games just like any book deal with a lot of topics. Creativity often relies on inspiration, alongside books and the internet, video games are a source of inspiration for the next artist generation. Also, persons in video games communities often end up mastering things like painting or playing musical instruments because of their love for video games.
People’s attention span current criticism is way too harsh. We live in a capitalistic, busy society where most of us don’t have the time, the mood or the energy to read a book and the easy to-go solution is to scroll social media. Could you really blame anyone for that ?
« All children do nowadays is scrolling on their phone », not all of us do that. Yes, a lot of us are into this. All our friends are on social media, nobody wants to miss anything. We procrastinate by scrolling on social media because nobody wants to do something boring, we are human. On the Internet, yes there is a lot of danger (and I’d recommend you’d monitor your child) but there is also what we need as individuals a way to express who we are, to grow, to learn, to socialize and to earn our freedom when all we do everyday is sitting in a chair, listening to uninteresting things for eight hours and doing homework. We don’t go outside because we can communicate with our friends without needing to go all the way to their houses, because it’s dangerous and adults don’t allow us to do so. We scroll our phones to pass time. Finally, why should we be blamed when social media are designed to be addictive ?
I’d like to move on with a different topic.
What I think about video games characteristics.
The complicated things nowadays is that video games are on a very difficult position to hold as they are both a business, an art and games.
This leads to unfortunate things. Gamers are unsatisfied and I don’t always agree with video games critics.
Graphics - sure decent graphics are a must but since video games are an art, devs should be allowed to break modern gaming conventions by making their games in whatever artstyle they want.
Gameplay - a must, we all can agree on that
Framerates - I honestly don’t get what people’s complains are about, sure we need to have a decent amount of frames but a few frames drop isn’t something that really impacts my game
Bugs - honestly a game isn’t supposed to have them, if it have negligible ones at least it is fun to break a game
Linearity - I don’t agree with most gamers on this one, I really like linearity, non linearity games sometimes suffer on this since the dev team didn’t think this through if they blended it with some amount of linearity
Map - I actually prefer medium ones, too small is annoying but nowadays games are too big and it is getting ridiculous at this point
Quests - same as the latter
Story - the story doesn’t have to be complicated for me to like it, I abhor story incoherences (hello Tears of the Kingdom ???), games are both supposed to appeal to players and be pieces of art
Sequels - depends on all these factors in the list + my enjoyment, honestly devs should stop making unnecessary sequels to games that have their narrative arc completed, stand alone games are fine
Genres - too many open worlds today and games that copy others, stan indie game companies, with all the technology we have today, why can’t we be more creative and enjoy ourselves creating unique games
In-game currency - Anything pay to win is a big no for me, free-to-plays are best but it depends if getting the currency is well balanced or not, in some games getting money is way too hard
Time - honestly I agree that time as a mechanic is another way to challenge your player but I hate it when you have to rush just like in Mario levels (though they give you an okay amount of time most of the time)
Levels and grinding - it depends on any player appreciation, most devs use it to extend their game longetivity
Weapons and collecting ressources - weapons is one of the coolest things whatever video game you play, collecting ressources can sometimes be as hard as to earn in-game currency, we all like it when both are given as an reward in a game, I hate it when some things are can only be obtained in one single manner like using online
Multiplayer or singleplayer mode - both are cool in their own way, it’s pretty cool to fight, play and meet other people that like the same game as you, it makes you want to surpass yourself, unfortunately there are a few video games that have a very toxic gamer community, I hate it when mostly singleplayer games put such an emphasis on multiplayer mode (why, sometimes it makes collecting ressources much more difficult + not every online is free, ACNH is an example that comes into mind)
Battles and difficulty - rage, unhealthy comparisons and people beginning to feel they’re just bad at playing video games and that it’s useless to progress isn’t talked enough ahead, I’m honestly annoyed by everyone who thinks every video game should be hard, difficulty modes are a cool idea but too many aren’t well balanced, honestly we should have more video games that don’t require to fight and that have creative ways for you to progress through the game
Trading and gifting - two cool mechanics if you use multiplayer
Avatar - nowadays customisation was very much needed, however I’m not convinced by some video games fashion and customisation
Cutscenes - I’m not a « too much cutscenes » kind of person, I like watching them, it becomes more bothering when the game isn’t very good and the story doesn’t make us care about random background characters they show in cutscenes (looking at you Zelda CDI)
Modifying the environment - not my type of game, unless it’s like in Tears of the Kingdom (sorry, didn’t play that much video games, I played like ten, i’m young) where you create things that help you playing and exploring the game
NPCs - depends if they’re well written and give you interesting quests
Cities - depends on shops and NPCs quality, I don’t like it when open worlds don’t have many
Escorts - while everyone is trashing on this mechanic, I think it should be kept because it allows you to do something else for a while, a video should max have seven of these, I hate these too
Time restricted events - « yeah my video game is an online mobile video game, I don’t want the player to leave it, I need to make money », some are cools but the time restriction is glaring, please let us have a life
Stealth - same as escorts
Buttons - hate : too many, confusing ones
Movements restrictions - depending on the game it’s annoying or perfectly reasonable
Tutorials - some are cools, most are annoying, unless a game has a unique and uncommon gameplay, then why annoying us with that ?
Minigames - it gets either really boring if a video game rely only on them and they aren’t cool or it becomes cool if they’re not a primary part of your video game and are cool
Video games physics - underrated
Moving on to the next topic :
How you should approach video games as a parent
A few things
You should follow age restrictions
You shouldn’t approach your child playing video games as something negative
Video games are an excellent opportunity for you and your child to bond, to learn them how to think critically and to make them be open with you
What you should do : play video games most of the time along your child, teach them teamwork, ask them what they think and what striked them (it is an opportunity to make sure media don’t influence them in a bad way), answers their questions, let them play video games a bit alone, when they’re back ask them the same questions as before and continue doing the same as before, you should do the same with any media your child consume
Make screen time limits easy to understand to your child, talk to them about why them spending a lot of time on screens make you concerned, teach them responsabilities, make your child go to school clubs, hiking, painting, museums, playing musical instruments, cooking,
Edit : added a few arguments. Forgot to add that video games are a form of art.
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plutosmainhoe · 8 months
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Camila Reinherz - Part IV
Master Post
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Yee Haw 🤠
We are going through Mila's fourth house, let's go!
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Just ignore the Sun for now (I know it's hard, but just do it).
4H Pisces
The fourth house controls family, traditions, ancestry and home.
With Pisces over the fourth house, Camila's family life has a direct impact on how she feels about herself. There is a strong emotional bond with her family and/or home, where she needs to feel support and stability.
Pisces is a water sign, her emotions run high when related to home. It is her safe place, a place where she can naturally be and prosper. If unsupported by family or friends she values as family, this can lead to depression tendencies. Her home reflects her mental state.
Mila will prefer to keep her home life private. It is her sanctuary. It allows her to shut down from everyday worries and social troubles. Although, because of this, she may tend to feel lonely as a result from isolating herself in her safe zone.
Camila will have a rampant imagination in regards to family, sometimes convincing herself that certain events had occurred, when they did not. She may have unrealistic views and ideals of her family and their traditions, however could grow out of this as she ages.
Where is Neptune?
Neptune is in the 2H. Why do we need to know this?
Each house has a Lord, depending the sign that is over the house. It doesn't matter if there are any planets within the house, the house Lord essentially communicates from the house they are in and brings energy across from their house.
Therefore, Mx Cloudy Blue Neptune is the Lord of the fourth, as it is the ruler of Pisces, however, is in the 2H. So what does this mean?
Amelia's family life and traditions are connected to her finance. This can indicate wealth from an early age and financial stability throughout her life.
However, Neptune is the planet of dreams, unstable environments, addictions and delusions. There needs to be large amount of stability offered by Amelia's family to ensure a happy and functioning mental health. If this isn't achieved, her finances and mental wellbeing can be greatly affected.
Placements
4H Aries Mercury
Mercury is the planet of communication and intellect.
With Mercury under fiery Aries, Camila will be a quick and independent thinker with an intense intellectual ability. Being a fire sign, there is a lot of unstable energy so it could be difficult to control her thoughts and organise them all accordingly. She may lack focus because of this.
Mila will be more focused on solutions rather than problems. She wants an answer to an issue instantly, finding creative ways to solve problems. She will be very encouraging of others, always enthusiastically supporting the people around her.
However, competitiveness and impatience may be had to control, and with Aries ruled by Mars, she is quick to become irritated or annoyed when things don't go her away. This will show in her communication and may become snarky, rude and down right nasty.
With Mercury sitting within the fourth house, Camila's home will likely be full of books, an intellectual atmosphere. Imagine a library within a house with a lot house plants.
Having Mercury in the fourth indicates that Mila comes from well-educated family, and will likely become well-educated herself because of this. Family and parents will have a large impact on Camila's way of thinking as their opinions mean a great deal to her. She may spend more time at home than the average person would.
Work and home life may often be intertwined, it is indicated that with this placement that the native may take over a family business or choose the same career path as their parents.
Mercury at 3°
The third degree is a Gemini degree, which is fantastic for Mercury as Gemini/Virgo are its preferred signs.
With this in mind, this degree will further increase the speed of Mila's thinking patterns and will be inclined to pick up patterns and trends in data. With the added Gemini energy, her speech may also be faster than normal and can be hard to keep up with, as she can jump from subject to subject.
Her communication may come off as flirty, flaky and dramatic, however she means well and just wants to make people laugh. A bit of a jokester and prank artist, Camila will try to find humour in anything.
Pisces Overtones
Pisces rampant imagination 🤝 Aries quick thinking Mercury
As Pisces is the ruler of the fourth house while Mercury falls under Aries in the fourth house, there will be layers of Neptune behaviours within Camila's communication.
So, to recap, this Mercury Placement has behaviours from Aries/Mars (placement), Gemini (degree), Pisces/Neptune (house ruler) AND Scorpio/Pluto (chart ruler).
What this means is that while she has her fiery, hot-headed, impatient, quick, adaptable and nervous communication and thinking styles, Mila can also be withdrawn and shallow with her articulation.
Neptune may bring the tendency to not be able to read in between the lines and become convinced on the delusion that the other party is confusing and is doing it deliberately. Camila may not understand people completely and could take things the wrong way, as Pisces/Neptune energy needs to be supported and stabilised.
Mercury is also in fall when placed in Pisces. These overhead energies can create some tension, with Aries trying to be action orientated and quick-thinking under the distractable and relaxed Pisces.
Remember when I said Pisces over the fourth will create a rampant imagination regards to her home life and comfort methods? This will go hand in hand with Mila's communication and intellect. While Pisces will bring a lot of imagination and creativity that witty and reckless Aries can use to benefit Mercury and its intellect.
And then of course, there is the slight Pluto overtones as the chart ruler. I can see Camilia changing her style of communication to fit the scene, much like a Gemini or Virgo Mercury would. With so many energies, her communication will likely be hard to keep up with.
Mila's communication is a weird combination of energies, and this will likely reflect in her articulation and speech, as well as her home. From ditzy, messy and all over the place, to loud, feisty and witty, Amelia could be difficult to understand or confusing due to the lack of consistency.
Next, we look into the fifth house and stop ignoring Amelia's sun placement ☀️
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