#scarlet emperor blossoms

[holybibly]

𝔐𝔶 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔈𝔪𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 | Seonghwa x reader

Pairing: Emperor Seonghwa x Virgin Bride reader Summary: You dreamed that your love would be like a cherry blossom - tender and beautiful, but instead you are going to get married to the Great Emperor of the Park Dynasty - the cruel and depraved "Lunar Dragon" Park Seonghwa.

Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, historical!AU, arranged marriage!AU, s2l, Royal!AU, Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 11.6 k

Warnings: Unprotected sex, deflowering, corruption kink, first time, virgin kink, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: Bunnies, as promised, I am going to spoil you with something absolutely glorious and wicked at the same time. Elegant depravity, that's what this is. Although I struggled to make this work, it has turned out to be absolutely amazing. I hope you're going to love Emperor Seonghwa as much as I love him. Have fun, bunnies, tonight is the night of the fall of the stars.

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing

"Mom, I'm so frightened..." You barely whisper as you sit in front of the luxurious, heavy, gold-framed mirror as servants scurry about you, combing your long, jet-black hair and gathering the smooth, silky tresses into a traditional wedding hairstyle. Massive gold jewelry set with rubies and topaz framed your head and secured your long scarlet veil—the veil of a virgin bride. You stared at your reflection in the mirror with large, wide-open eyes full of anxiety, your hands trembling nervously as you clasped the thin silk of the white robe in your lap. Your whole body was slightly shuddering with a sense of fear and dread that bound your chest like stems of icy roses full of sharp thorns, which wrapped around your delicate, pale bones and prevented you from taking a full breath. It was so natural to be afraid, not only of the fact that in a few hours you would be the wife of a great and powerful man, a man who had power over everything in your world—the greatest emperor of the Park Dynasty, "Lunar Dragon" Seonghwa—but also of your first wedding night. 

"You should be proud of the fact that the Great Emperor has chosen you out of a million other girls, Y/N. His Majesty Emperor Seonghwa wants you and only you, and you must obey his wish without questioning and be the wife he would admire. You have my meaning, Y/N." Your mother said. She looked at the magnificent crimson robe, richly embroidered with gold thread, that the Emperor had chosen for you. The robe was magnificent, a perfect embodiment of His Majesty's exquisite taste and the ancient traditions of the ruling Park dynasty. Only surpassed by the brilliance of the great stars themselves and the hypnotic glow of Emperor Seonghwa's dark feline eyes were the stars and moons embroidered on the seemingly endless tail of your wedding gown. "After all, the empress must be a virgin when she ascends the throne; that is the tradition, and your purity and chastity will give the emperor a strong heir." Your mother's voice was calm and unemotional. It was as if she were talking about the most mundane of things, not your virginity. 

Your mother had explained to you many times how things were going to go down on your wedding night. She hadn't gone into great detail, only saying that you should do your best to please the Emperor. But now you had a good idea of what would happen when you were alone with the Seonghwa, and it couldn't help but frighten you. 

The marriage contract between your family and the ruling Park dynasty was made almost immediately after the birth of the current Emperor Seonghwa. Your family had many daughters, each one more beautiful than the one before. You never thought that you, the youngest of them all, would be the future wife of the Emperor. You had only met Seonghwa once, and then only briefly, remembering only his blowing in the wind silk robes, turquoise, and his long hair, the most beautiful shade of sakura blossom. 

But you have heard many gossipy stories about Seonghwa, and they filled you with fear and kept you awake at night. 

He was a cruel ruler—overbearing, selfish, proud, and arrogant. And Seonghwa was also absolutely insatiable; all the servants in the palace whispered about what a huge sexual appetite the emperor had and that his poor virgin bride would not be able to properly satisfy his hunger and desires. He had a huge harem of girls and handsome, exquisite young men who rotated in and out of His Majesty's chambers with an enviable frequency. Seonghwa never fucked the same concubine more than once. He could point his finger at anyone who interested him, and that person would be in his bed in no time. And tonight you will have to share his bed, and unlike the concubines who spend the night with him and then disappear into the luxurious gardens of the harem to continue their lives, you will have to stay by his side until death do you part, serving and worshipping him as your emperor and husband. And, of course, you will have to provide him with an heir—preferably more than one.

The purpose of your life is the continuation of the dynasty. 

You were intensely jealous of all your sisters, who were free to choose their husbands, who were free to marry for love, now that you would be the bearer of the unbearable burden of the crown. You never asked for it; you never wished for it. Seonghwa was extremely wealthy; he was the most powerful ruler in the world. He enslaved and conquered lands as if it were child's play. Even though the Emperor showered you with jewelry and gave you lavish gifts to marry, you didn't care. He would never love you, and you couldn't imagine a world where you could have love and desire for a man who knew nothing but the flames of war and debauchery. 

"I'm very scared of him, Mum..." You said again as you watched one of the maids place a golden hairpin set with a black onyx into your hair, given to you by one of the Seven Great Generals of Seonghwa, Choi San.

The dark-eyed demon had given it to you personally this morning, and looking at the man's otherworldly beauty, you couldn't help but think of the rumors that the generals were bound to Seonghwa not only by the battlefield and the hot blood that ran down their arms like scarlet rivers, but also by the silk sheets of the emperor's bed. And perhaps the devilish gleam in San's eyes as his plump, soft lips pressed sensuously against your wrist in a sign of respect meant that you would be able to confirm or deny the rumor in no time at all.

Right now, all you wanted was for your mother to make everything better for you, to spare you from the fears and terrible thoughts that swirled around in your head like a swirl of falling sakura petals, the color of which reminded you of Seonghwa's hair. You were a grown girl, hours away from becoming Empress, but there was a small part of you that longed to be safe and comforted by your mother. You wished with all your heart that she would be able to make Emperor Seonghwa change his mind and choose one of your sisters instead of you.

But it was impossible to do that. No one in this world had the right to go against the wishes of the great Emperor 'Lunar Dragon' Park Seonghwa. He chose you without even bothering to explain why, simply pointing his finger at you as you spent time with your sisters in the Imperial Garden during one of your family's visits to the palace. 

"She will be my Empress. She will be mine." Seonghwa said, and you saw the eyes of your mother glisten with tears that had not been shed.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Your mother whispered to you. "But perhaps the Emperor will be a good husband. If he wants to have strong and healthy heirs, he'll have to treat you well."

Your mother tried so hard to be brave for you, and you were forever grateful to her for that. In your family, it was always believed that a man had to treat his wife well if he wanted her to bear him a large number of children. And your father really did idolize her, judging by the fact that your mother gave birth to nine children. You could only hope that Emperor Park would follow this wisdom, but you really had doubts that Seonghwa would make any effort to honor and follow your family's traditions. He probably didn't care about anything except increasing his power and satisfying his animal sexual desires. 

Seonghwa was a true dragon, not only by blood but by nature. A predatory beast dressed in silk robes and glittering jewels. 

"I will do my best to please him." You murmured, and you immediately heard the soft chuckle of a maid tucking a veil into your hair. You cast an angry glance at the slender girl, and her cheeks flushed in an instant. But you could understand the reason for her laughter. What pleasure could a virgin give an experienced and lecherous emperor, whose luxurious bed was warmed by the most beautiful and seductive girls and boys in the empire? 

It was a bit of a delusion on your part to wish for that. Most likely, Songhwa would see you as just another beautiful thing in his collection, spending the rest of your life bearing children and sitting on a velvet cushion. Once the wedding ceremony was over, you would be nothing more than his next great conquest. 

"Give me your hand, My Lady." Another of the maids spoke to you politely, and you reluctantly held out your cold palm to her. The girl carefully placed a heavy gold bracelet on your wrist, engraved with a dragon with rubies glinting ominously in its eyes; it was more like a shackle, another gift from the General, this time given to you by the magnificent Kim Hongjoong. 

As you knew, Hongjoong was not only one of the seven generals and Seonghwa's confidant, but also his close childhood friend, with whom he grew up and shared everything in his life. Hongjoong was also the one who visited you more often than the other generals. He had a devilish gaze and a sly curve of blood-red lips, and he instilled in you the same animal terror as Seonghwa himself. You thought that everything he touched or said had an ulterior motive, and frankly, you didn't really want to know the true meaning of his actions, but the smile he gave you last night when he handed you the bracelet left you no choice. Sooner or later, you will find out, but by then, it will be too late to try to escape the Golden Emperor's cage. Your life, like your body, will belong to Seonghwa from now on. 

You swallowed hard as the maids began to remove the robe from your shoulders. It exposed your sun-untouched skin. 

"My Lady, it is time..." 

You could hear your mother sobbing softly as the bloody silk flowed down your body. She seemed to be holding back the tears from all of them for your sake. Your heart was beating faster, and your fingers were starting to tremble. You were only a few hours away from your inevitable destiny and several miles of ceremonial procession, at the end of which would be the Great Lunar Dragon, Seonghwa Park.

The anxiety of it all almost made your stomach hurt. 

The wedding ceremony was grand; your golden palanquin was carried solemnly down a street strewn with flowers and silk ribbons to the cheers of the crowd welcoming their new Empress. The flash of his cherry blossom hair and the firm, possessive palm of his hand that took yours before leading you up the great staircase 'to heaven' are all you can remember of Seonghwa. It was all a blur to you—the rich scent of incense and flowers making your head spin and a nervous knot tightening in the pit of your stomach. Your hands were cold in the Emperor's hot palms as you made your marriage vows. Your lips trembled as you swore to be his precious wife and to carry the burden of a great empire on your shoulders as his Empress. Tears welled up in your eyes. 

Songhwa's soft, velvety voice whispered in your ear, "You belong to me.". 

Nothing in the universe could have prepared you for his kiss - fiery, passionate, and hungry, it seemed as if Songhwa wanted to drink your soul through that kiss, to consume you whole, to turn your will and your desires to ashes. You heard the rapturous cheers of the seven generals and other cronies of the ruling Park dynasty. The Emperor's graceful palm encircled your neck from behind and pulled you closer to him. Your knees buckled, and you could barely breathe as Songhwa's long, hot tongue took possession of your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue and sliding across your palate and the inside of your cheeks. His thumb pressed lightly against the pulsing vein in your neck, your pulse racing beneath his soft fingertip as his teeth dug into your plump lower lip, almost biting to the blood. 

You wanted to scream in pain, but there were too many people around—too many angry tongues dripping venom—just waiting to start gossiping about you. So instead, you tried to distract yourself from the pain and focus on something else.

But instead, your eyes were captured by the seductive gaze of the siren belonging to none other than General Jung Wooyoung. His full, sensuous lips parted as if he were enjoying the kiss itself, the sharp tip of his tongue sliding across the soft, red flesh of his lower lip, leaving him glistening and moist. You had the feeling that his dark, almost black eyes were gliding over your body. His gaze was shamelessly undressing you, while his friend, his Emperor, was devouring your mouth with a hungry, passionate kiss. You looked away in shame and embarrassment.

When Seonghwa finally let go of you and allowed you to take a long-awaited deep breath, you felt like you were going to faint. Just a small glimpse of what awaited you on your wedding night sent shivers of fear down your spine. 

"You belong to me. Forever." Seonghwa whispers again, and you have a full understanding of the meaning of his words. Yes, you really do belong to him right now.

When it's time for you to leave the ceremony and prepare for your first wedding night, you almost start to gasp. You catch San's dark, demonic gaze as he leans over to whisper something into General Kim's ear. His words cause Hongjoong's blood-red lips to curl into an evil, almost devilish grin. Even through the many layers of heavy silk, you can feel the flames of his gaze burning through your skin. 

"Your Majesty..." You turn your head to the side, only to find yourself facing the goddess Aphrodite herself, in the form of a man. General Kang Yeosang has always held a special place in your heart. Gentle and elegant like an exotic flower, his speech always soft and soothing, and his deep, velvety voice like the call of a chamois. Seonghwa's hair may have been the color of delicate sakura petals, and his eyes may have been brighter than all the stars in the endless midnight sky, but that was just a facade to hide the lustful and cruel devil that lurked inside. Yeosang, on the other hand, in spite of his wicked beauty, was the very embodiment of an angel. You will have heard the servants of the palace call him the Black Swan of the Empire. 

Yeosan's soft and gentle nature might have reassured you and even given you some semblance of comfort before Seonghwa ravaged your body and took what was now his—your virginity. But the sensual curve of his plump lips and the hungry glint in the dark eyes of the siren, General Jung Wooyoung, who now extended his palm to you in an inviting gesture, sent an icy shiver down your spine. You rarely saw Wooyoung, and when you did, there was always a decent distance or several other people between you, so you had never felt his presence as close as you did now, and you had never been so fascinated by the sharpness of his face or the small mole under his eye, and this feeling frightened you as much as it frightened Seonghwa and Hongjoong. 

"Your Majesty, it's time for you to go." As he turned to you, Wooyoung's voice was sultry and hoarse. It made you feel as if the flames themselves were licking at your body or at the lips of your lover in the heat of a forbidden caress. 

"I...my maids should see me out. General Jung, thank you." You bite your lip nervously and look around, hoping to find your maids and avoid the two generals' eyes on you, but instead you see Seonghwa watching you intently, his head tilted slightly to the side, a few soft pink strands falling onto his gorgeous face. If he could only have a breath, it would be majestic. Seonghwa was indeed the true embodiment of the divine Lunar Dragon.

"His Majesty, the Emperor Seonghwa, has ordered us to escort you to his chambers in person." It was Yeosang's voice this time. Something about the way he said your husband's name aroused you, and not in the most pleasant way.

"I... I'm not quite sure, General Kang." You have an almost pathetic look on your face, an attempt to delay the inevitable, and to be honest, you had no desire to be in the company of any of the seven illustrious generals right now. 

Wooyoung just grinned mischievously at your words, obviously finding you very amusing. As he leaned closer, his lips almost touched your earlobe, and you could smell the scent of sandalwood emanating from his caramel skin. 

"Don't make him wait, dear. Seonghwa is an impatient and passionate lover; the longer you resist him, the harder he will be with you, and we don't want a jewel like you to be injured, do we?" 

"Stop it, Wooyoung; you're scaring her." Yeosang hisses, but does nothing to contradict the words of General Jung. 

You swallow noisily and silently place your cold, clammy palm in Wooyoung's hand, letting him and Yeosang escort you to the Emperor's quarters. The last thing you notice as you leave the Ceremonial Hall, where the noisy festivities of the Imperial Wedding will continue until dawn, is the sensual curve of Seonghwa's luscious, plump lips as he smiles at you and the glimmer of ominous rubies in the eyes of the golden dragon on the very same bracelet you wear on your arm, jingling on Hongjoong's slender wrist as he lazily waves goodbye to you.

"You don't have to worry that hard, Y/N." Wooyoung says as he pulls the heavy silk of your wedding gown off your shoulders, and you might have resented the familiarity with which he addressed you if you hadn't felt the glide of his fingertips over your bare skin. The whole situation was confusing, to say the least. Completely beyond any conscious explanation, two great generals of the Empire are now acting as your personal maids, helping you change your dress, removing your jewelry, and unraveling the intricacies of your wedding hairstyle.

Letting them treat you like a doll, undressing you layer by layer, and exposing more and more of your body to their dark gaze, you didn't know how to react or what to say. Wooyoung's breath was hot on the back of your neck, while Yeosang's cold fingers brushed over your collarbones as he removed the massive gold necklace. They continued their actions until you were left in the thin white dress that was the base of your outfit, and the only jewelry you wore was a black onyx stud given to you by San and, as it turned out, a paired bracelet from Hongjoong. 

"Everything will be alright, Your Majesty." Yeosang gently ran his thumb over your wrist, the feel of your pulse racing under his touch. He liked the fact that he was making you nervous; your reaction brought a smile to his beautiful lips. Wooyoung's arms wrapped around your waist for a second, and his firm, hot chest pressed tightly against your back. You could swear you could feel his heart beating through your skin at that moment; he was so close to you. 

"We will leave you now, my... Empress." It was almost as if he whispered the last word into your skin. "Enjoy your night." His touch was gone as suddenly as it had appeared, and you could feel the cold air of the room now caressing you as General Jung's hot body moved away from you. 

"Try to relax and let Seonghwa take care of you; I promise nothing terrible will happen to you." Yeosang leaned down and planted a chaste kiss on your cheek before following Wooyoung out of the room, leaving you all alone—completely confused, frightened, and not knowing what to expect from Seonghwa if his generals could afford to treat you like this. 

"Lunar Dragon" - the great Emperor Park Seonghwa is standing in front of you. His luxurious long hair, the colour of sakura petals, was still partially gathered on his head by long crystal hairpins. Teardrop-shaped crystals were dangling from them. He had replaced his heavy ceremonial robes with a light mantle of the most beautiful snow-white silk you've ever seen - dragons embroidered in silver and turquoise danced on the fabric like in the clouds. You can see his naked, chiseled torso, his muscular chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his measured breathing. Seonghwa's appearance is completely relaxed, but everything about him is a scream of the majesty and power he has over this world. He notices the way your eyes slide down his body, his lips curling into a satisfied, smug grin. You blush and lower your eyes to the floor.

Your heart is beating at breakneck speed against your ribs, and you have the feeling that Seonghwa can easily hear the sound. Your mother told you that you might feel aroused when you were alone with the Emperor, that you would want to touch his body, taste his lips, feel his hot hands on you, and maybe even feel his mouth on your private parts, but you... you didn't want to. You didn't feel aroused at all. You were afraid of Seonghwa, and after what Wooyoung had said to you in the ceremonial hall today, you were even more afraid of him, and no amount of assurances from Yeosang that everything would be all right could change your mind. You were afraid to even look him in the eye, and you clutched the fabric of your dress nervously in your hands, trying to calm yourself.  

"My Emperor, are you going to hurt me today?" You were so stupid, good Lord, you couldn't think of anything else to say? Apart from the wedding vows, these were the first words you'd ever spoken to him directly, and you couldn't think of anything else to say: "Will you hurt me?" For some strange reason, you expected that after the wedding you would magically feel like a different person, that after saying your vows, your animal fear of Seonghwa would disappear. It didn't happen at all. You continued to feel frightened and ignorant, and completely at the mercy of the Emperor.

You could feel the weight of his heavy, hypnotic gaze on your skin as he silently scanned your body through the thin, transparent dress that you wore. He was looking at you shamelessly and greedily, and it only served to increase your fear. Seonghwa's long fingers cupped your chin and lifted your face. The soft pad of his thumb is pressed against your lower lip. You hesitantly met his gaze, your eyes instantly held hostage by the magnetic, bottomless eyes of the Emperor. Sharp and soft, demonic and angelic, sparkling like eternal stars and impenetrable like the thickest darkness, you had never met anyone with such eyes. His almost black irises flickered like flames, as if they were absorbing the glow of the candlelight. 

"Is that the way you are supposed to address your husband, hmm? Call me by my name." Seonghwa's command to you. The sound of his voice was like liquid silk. Seonghwa grabbed your chin with his graceful hand and tilted your head even higher. You had to strain your neck to hold his gaze with your eyes. 

"M-my Emperor..." Your voice trembles, and in spite of the clear command, you say something completely different from what Seonghwa wants you to say. 

His finger presses harder against your lip, the sharp nail digging into the soft flesh in a painful way, and your mouth opens automatically. 

"I want to hear you say my name, my love. And you need to obey without questioning, darling. You don't want to upset me. Do you?" Seonghwa's tone of voice is still soft and velvety, but you can hear the small hint of a hidden threat in his words. And it is scaring the hell out of you right now. To be honest, you don't want to say his name at all. There's something about it that feels like an irreversible end, like if you say it out loud, you're going to lose any semblance of controlling your life. But there can be no disobedience, especially not now.

"Seonghwa." It's easier than you thought, but for some reason, his name still leaves a bitter taste on the tip of your tongue. 

He turns away from you, instead walking over to the luxurious bed and lowering himself smoothly onto it. The flaps of his robe swing further open, and the wide silk collar slides off his shoulders as he sits down on the soft feather bed. You can't help but admire the Emperor for a moment as strands of pink hair fall across his handsome face. 

His eyes narrowed predatorily for a second. His gorgeous, god-like face takes on a sharp, animal beauty, but it's only for a moment before his expression becomes majestically relaxed again. 

"There you are, good girl." His praise is as condescending as if he were addressing one of the many maids in the palace instead of his Empress. Without taking his eyes off you, Seonghwa pushes his thumb fully into your mouth, pressing it against your tongue's soft, slippery surface. Your eyes widen at the action. "Lick it." He gives the order again, and you weakly run your tongue along the pad of his finger, leaving a thick trail of saliva on it. Then he pulls the finger out of your mouth, takes a step back, and, looking you in the eye, pushes the wet finger into his mouth. His plump lips close in an erotic way around the long appendage as he sucks weakly on it. Heat floods your whole face at this seemingly innocent act, but when Seonghwa does it, it looks so damn lewd and lascivious.

"Strip for me." Seonghwa's voice commands you.

The cold air of his chambers was now licking at your skin, causing your sensitive nipples to tense and swell in response. Embarrassed, you covered yourself with your arms and crossed your legs slightly to hide your pussy from the dark, burning gaze of the Emperor. At that moment, Seonghwa reminded you of a huge, contented cat that had gotten the cream. He leaned back slightly on his hands on the bed, arching his back and tilting his head to the side, making the muscles in his long, thin neck tense. Seductive wasn't a strong enough word to describe the way the Emperor looked right now. Depraved? Vicious? Devilish? Maybe it was all of those things at the same time. 

Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment. His command was clear and precise, and the fear of being completely vulnerable in front of him made your heart beat even faster. Your fingers trembled as you reached for the wide waistband of your dress. It had all happened so very quickly. Your mind had barely had time for a moment's reflection. You knew that it was best to obey him and not question what he wanted. Carefully, you unbuckled the belt, and the dress slid gently down your body before it spilled out in a puddle of silk on the floor at your feet. 

"I-I... do you like it?" You asked him. Your voice was barely above a whisper. God, it was so embarrassing. Would this happen every time you shared a bed with him? You lowered your eyes to the floor, unable to bear to look at his hungry, lustful gaze. 

"Ain't you a pretty little jewel, huh? It was so sweet of you to ask me that. Now take your hands away, so that I can see the whole of your pretty body."

His words caused you to let out a soft squeak, as you were completely shocked. It was humiliating, to say the least. It was one thing to be lying naked under someone else, but it was a lot more vulnerable to find yourself completely naked in the middle of the room. But there was no way you could forbid the Emperor to look at your body the way he wanted to. The words he had spoken earlier were still running through your mind: "You belong to me." So you obeyed him once more, even though everything in your heart was telling you not to. 

"What's a gem? Are you so embarrassed already?" Seonghwa laughed grimly as he looked at your naked body; his eyes lingered on your pussy as he sensually ran the tip of his long tongue over his plump, sensual lips. "Come closer to me, darling." 

God, it seemed like it couldn't get any worse, but obviously the Emperor had thought a lot about how to make you squirm without even touching you. You took a couple of steps forward until you were standing between his legs as they spread apart. 

"Now turn around for me." His voice dropped a couple of octaves, the velvety tone getting darker and more husky. Your face turned even more red, and your lips began to quiver. You slowly turned away from him so that he had a good view of your bottom. You could feel his predatory eyes on the small of your back and his greedy gaze on your crotch. You almost screamed as you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you down with all their might until you were sitting on the bed between his legs. Seonghwa pressed his body against your back, and it reminded you of Wooyoung, but that thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when his hands cupped your breasts and his full lips were pressed against your ear. "You're supposed to please me, you know." He said. His hot breath flowed over the soft skin of your ear with each letter of the word he spoke. It sent a shiver down the length of your body. "Remember this." He squeezed your breasts roughly, causing you to give a soft whimper. 

"Yes, Your Majesty…" You breathed out.

Your breasts were terribly sensitive under his rough and skilled hands, and you were so overwhelmed by the sensation that you collapsed completely into his arms. You had no idea how pleasurable it could be; you'd never played with your boobs before. As Seonghwa's long fingers brushed lightly over your swollen nipples, a soft moan of pleasure escaped your open lips. 

"You're so sensitive, my little jewel, and that's what I love about virgins; you're all so sweet and shy, you blush and whimper at the slightest touch. But do you know what it is that I love the most?" Seonghwa asked you as he gently twisted your nipples with his long, thin fingers, making you moan and shake your head in a negative way. "Most of all, I love to see the look on their pretty faces when I stretch their tight little cunts with my big, thick cock. I love the sound of them moaning my name as they cum on my tongue." God, that was just too much. 

The combination of the Emperor's deep, hypnotic voice and how dirty and disgusting his words were almost made you whimper pitifully. His hands continued to play expertly with your heavy, plump tits, massaging and squeezing the flesh as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the hard, sensitive nipples. The tender skin of your breasts reddened under his firm grip. Unconsciously, you rested your head on his shoulder, becoming more and more lost in the sensation of his touch on your body. 

"But you are my shining star; you are special to me, unlike those whores who live only with the thought of being filled with Imperial sperm. They will never be able to stand in your shoes, and none of them will ever be the mother of my heir. None of them will ever be my Empress." One of his hands slid down your belly until his hot palm cupped your pussy in a possessive way. His long middle finger pressed between your labia to feel the moisture that had accumulated there. Your breath caught in your throat as Seonghwa pulled roughly on your nipple, his palm pressing even harder against your cunt. "I'm going to fuck that virgin pussy until your belly swells up with my heir." His lips brushed against your ear again, and he whispered in a sultry voice. "And maybe it won't just be mine, if you know what I mean." 

Seonghwa began to kiss your neck, leaving scorching, open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His lips were plush and moist as they glided over the sensitive veins and nerves, which flowed in bluish, translucent rivers beneath the pallor of your skin. You moaned and unconsciously pressed your pussy harder against his hand as Seonghwa's teeth bit into a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. The Emperor ran the tips of his fingers along the silken folds of your cunt, the moisture clinging to his fingers.

"I-I...oh..." Endless moans echoed through the room as Seonghwa's finger pads pressed against your sensitive clit. The light pressure on the swollen bundle of nerves sent waves of pleasure through your body. 

"Can you feel it, my star? Do you have a sense of how swollen and wet your pussy is?" The Emperor's words caused another moan to escape your lips; your mind was hazy and distant, and Seonghwa's voice was luring you deeper and deeper into the trap of lust and pleasure. "I can feel your desire, my jewel; your little cunt wants to be filled with cock so desperately." He said. Lost in the sounds and sensations of your own body, your hips twitched as his fingers began to circle your clit. Your breathing came and went, each exhale punctuated by a soft moan of pleasure. "Your virgin pussy is throbbing under my touch, my little star. I want to see you sink into ecstasy; I want to see that shy, innocent facade shatter as you cum and wriggle under my touch." Seonghwa removed his hand from your breast, then wrapped his fingers around your chin, turning your head sideways so your lips met his. "Under my tongue." He whispered before you had the taste of his kiss for the second time that night. You were so mesmerized by the feel of the Emperor's soft, luscious lips on yours that you didn't notice him pressing his hips against you.

You were whimpering into his mouth as you felt the hard, hot length of his cock pressing down hard against your arse. Your eyes widened in fear, and your mouth opened to allow Seonghwa's tongue to enter your mouth and wrap around your tongue in a sensual way.

Seonghwa's kiss to you at the wedding ceremony was nothing in comparison to the kiss he was giving you now. The impossible, hot-tight, sinful, shameful, pleasure-filled kiss that made you gasp and whimper against his lips. A low, guttural moan escaped from his lips, becoming almost animalistic in nature as his fingers slid deeper and deeper between your folds. Seonghwa growls and pulls his lips away from yours, swollen and tortured after his caresses them. You moan loudly as his fingers circle around your clit, your juices making it slick and slippery, and that just adding the stimulation. Mindlessly, you buck your hips against his touch, and he lets you do it, enjoying how desperate you are already looking. The Emperor was right. Virgins are always so easy, too pliable, and eager to be touched. And you, his precious little Empress, are no exception. 

His eyes were the trap of vice, the bottomless pit of lust and wickedness, but you couldn't look away from them. They were lustrous and almost black, like the onyx in the jewelled hairpin San had given you. They seemed to penetrate your very soul, making you shiver. A seductive grin played across his devilishly handsome face as his fingers continued to play with your pussy, making it more and more wet and in need of attention. You gasped for breath as you felt your little hole squeeze on nothing, and a thick, gooey drop of slime poured out of you. 

"Ahm-aah...Your Majesty...ahhhh...Seonghwa." You were at a loss for words and had no formula. Pleasure curled up at the core of your being, and you rolled your eyes in delight. 

"Yes, that's right, my star. Does it feel good? Do you like it when my fingers play with your little virgin pussy, when you feel them on your throbbing, swollen clit?" He asked. The silk of his voice was a breath that was a tickle to your ear.

"Your Majesty... It's... It's so embarrassing." 

His eyes flashed with pleasure, and the grip he had on your face was like a vice grip. You felt his hips jerk forward, and he pressed his cock harder against the soft flesh of your ass. His excitement was obvious. Suddenly, his fingers stopped teasing the folds of your cunt. Seonghwa brought them to his mouth instead. His eyes sparkled like jewels, seductive and dangerous, as his long tongue darted out of his mouth to lick the viscous fluid that ran down the long appendages. 

"You're sweet—maybe too sweet for your own good." Seonghwa wraps his arms around your neck and pulls you closer to his beautiful face, so that his lips make contact with yours once more. "And there's something you should know about me, my star: I have a horrible sweet tooth." Instantly, he releases you from his grip and changes position so that you're on your back, spread out on the beautiful sheets, his lithe body hovering over you. His hair is completely disheveled, long strands of pink falling haphazardly across his face, and you can see a faint blush on his cheeks and his luscious lips, swollen from kissing and taking on a darker shade. God, he looks like a true deity, and you can see why they call him the 'Lunar Dragon'; mere mortals can never be so majestic and seductive; they are not given that magnetic pull that draws everyone to this dangerous creature like a moth to a flame. 

Seonghwa slides down your body until his hands are cupped around your thighs, pulling them apart so that your juicy, wet cunt is exposed to his hungry gaze. He runs his fingers gently down your thick, soft thighs, squeezing your flesh together for a moment, the sharp tips of his nails digging painfully into your thighs, and you make a squeal at the rough caress. It was a terrible shame to lie there, completely naked, with your legs spread wide open, while Seonghwa towered over you, still fascinating and powerful, even if he did look a little disheveled. And what was even more humiliating was that you were already so wet for him—your juices were constantly flowing from your hole and dripping between your cheeks onto the silk of the sheets—but you didn't have time to think about that when Seonghwa pressed down on your clit without warning, making you gasp loudly. You almost screamed, your legs twitching in a feeble attempt to squeeze together as he skillfully circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, his fingernail lightly scraping the tender skin. 

"You have such a sweet little cunt, my star," Seonghwa whispered as he pushed your swollen labia apart to expose the soft pink inside. He bent his face over your pussy and let his hot breath flow over the sensitive flesh, causing even more fluid to spill out of your hole. "I will only say this once, my precious. You will be a good girl and take everything I give you. I will eat that sweet virgin cunt for as long as I want. If you dare to refuse, I will fuck you without any stretches at all, and believe me, unlike you, I am going to get a lot of pleasure when my cock rips that tight cunt in half. Do you understand me?"

"I-I, yes, I understand, Your Majesty." 

The first licks from Seonghwa's tongue on your juicy pussy made you arch your back and roll your eyes. The sensation was too overwhelming for your words. As soon as the Emperor had tasted you on his lips, he began to eat you with a hungry ferocity. Seonghwa plunged his tongue into your tight, wet hole, almost biting your tender, quivering folds, his teeth clawing at your swollen, sensitive clit, making you writhe and squirm as his hands gripped your thighs tighter. 

Seonghwa lived for the pussy, and he'd tasted a lot of it over the years, but your sweet virgin cunt tasted the best of all. His little Empress had the most amazing cunt of them all—a pussy that was worthy of an emperor. 

"I can't wait to get my tongue inside you, my star. Do you like it, my Empress? Tell me. Do you like my tongue in your slutty virgin pussy?" 

"Uh, huh... I... I... it feels so good... your Majesty..." You moaned.

Your viscous slime and his own saliva now coated Seonghwa's chin as his mouth pressed greedily against you, licking and lapping up all the juices flowing from you as if they were divine nectar. Your tight hole was twitching under the caress of his tongue, begging for filling. And who was he to refuse to give it to you? 

Seonghwa slid his finger into the throbbing warmth of your vagina, feeling the slight resistance of the muscles as the long appendage stretched your virgin entrance. He did it slowly, but you moaned in spite of himself as his finger filled you. His lips circled around your clit, slowly sucking at the sensitive cluster of nerves, and Seonghwa felt the warm, silky walls of your pussy tighten around his finger. 

"Y-Your Majesty... that's a lot... I" You found it hard to speak; hot excitement was flowing beneath your skin, making you helpless and pliable for him, but a sharp slap on your thigh made you cry out loudly. The mark of his hand bloomed like a rose on the milky surface of your skin. 

You continued to whimper as you responded to the rough and vulgar words the Emperor spoke to you. Not daring to take his eyes off the way your hole was absorbing them, Seonghwa added another finger. Your walls clenched around his fingers, trying to hold them in, even though the burning sensation of stretching made it difficult. To make it easier for Seonghwa to move his fingers in and out of your pussy, you tried to relax as much as possible. A lump of saliva landed on the top of your pussy and spread over your delicate folds. 

"My Name. I need you to moan out my name and nothing else, my star. I want to hear you say it out loud as I destroy you with my fingers and my tongue. Your hungry cunt swallows my fingers so well, my little 

Empress."

"Look at you, my star; you're so wet for me; you literally drip into my mouth. You are not so clean and pure any more, are you? Who would have thought that a beautiful lady would like to have her cunt licked?" The squelching of your wetness and Seonghwa's saliva as he slid two fingers in and out of your tight hole was loud and disgusting.  Seonghwa was mesmerized by the way your pussy clung to his fingers, his tongue circling the edges of your vagina, slipping inside slightly each time his fingers came out of you. 

You arch your back and feel a strange, crushing tension build up in your lower abdomen, and you clench the silk sheets in your fists. It's frightening, but somehow you have a desire for it to consume you completely. 

"Seonghwa, I... Oh God... I, I don't know, this feeling inside me..." Your breathing is ragged, with each word coming out of your mouth with difficulty. The Emperor lifts his hypnotic gaze up to you, his mouth still pressed against your pussy. His eyes are so dark and hypnotic—glimmering black stars in the lacy frame of his eyelashes—and you swear you see a flash of golden glow in them before it fades, leaving only lust and insatiable hunger. 

"My little Empress, you are about to cum for the first time, are you? Jewel, you must wait until I say so." Seonghwa growled as he squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh harder and harder, and you could already see the purple and black bruises that were beginning to form on your skin. "Your slutty cunt won't be able to come until I tell you to." You whimper pitifully at the command of authority in his velvety voice, your pussy clutching onto his two fingers. 

But Seonghwa doesn't seem to have had enough and decides to stretch you even further, trying to push a third finger inside you, causing you to squeal and jerk your hips in an attempt to avoid the stinging sensation inside you, but it has the exact opposite effect. Your abrupt movement forces his fingers deeper into you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot inside, and you gasp at the sharp sensation of delight that rips through you like a bolt of lightning. You are so lost in pleasure that you don't even notice the tip of his third finger as it enters you. 

Seonghwa is sucking on your clit in an almost lazy way, stretching and stimulating you at the same time. 

"S-Songhwa!" You almost start to cry, your eyes filling with tears from the mixture of feelings and emotions. This is too good to pass up, but at the same time, too much for you to bear. "Please, Seonghwa, Your Majesty." 

"Hmm, are you beggin' me already, my star? My little Еmpress, if you can't take my fingers, then you'll never be able to take my cock, and that is literally your only responsibility in life. To lie here in my bed and to fuck me like this. Your husband and your Еmperor. Seonghwa replies, licking the broad stripes between your trembling soft folds and pulling her fingers out of you to suck on your clenching, flowing hole. 

"I'm sorry... I'm t-trying to be a decent wife to you... I'm so sorry." You stutter. 

The Emperor slid three fingers back into your pussy, stroking your velvety walls and pressing the pads of his fingers against your G-spot as he did so. 

"You're so sweet, begging and crying like a pretty little girl, but you're not a girl anymore. You're my wife, my Empress, so be damned obedient to me and take everything I give you without objection." When he had finished speaking, his lips were around your exhausted clit again. 

"Oh, please, Seonghwa! P-please, I need...I want...please let me come...I promise I'll be so good to you." Tears streamed down your face as your whole body began to shake a little, and you lifted your hips to press even harder against Seonghwa. 

Seonghwa seems to have decided to spare you this time, enjoying how desperate and needy you look—all that crying and whining, and he hasn't even fucked you properly. But it's not over yet. 

"If you want it so badly, darling, you can cum." As soon as those words fall from his flushed, swollen lips, it feels as if your whole body is completely attuned to his every command or desire, and you arch up almost immediately, rolling your eyes and experiencing your first real orgasm on Seonghwa's long, slender fingers. Seonghwa lets out a deep, low moan as he watches you writhe in pleasure as he continues to finger-fuck you until you begin to whimper and beg him to stop.

"I'm not done with you yet, my star." Seonghwa whispers in a grim voice as he pushes his fingers into your wet and sensitive pussy. You're almost incoherent at this point, shaking with excitement as he pulls his fingers out of you and crawls up your body to pull you into a hot, dirty kiss. His lips, chin, and cheeks are wet and sticky with your juices, but he doesn't care; he doesn't bother wiping, preferring to fuck your mouth with his tongue. 

As Seonghwa pulled away from your lips and allowed you to take a full breath, the look on his face took on that predatory animal look that you'd seen on him before tonight, and it was crystal clear to you what was going to happen next. Fear and excitement at the prospect of finally losing your virginity mix together in your heart. You weren't sure if the feeling was one of relief or horror, but your body was already on edge with anticipation. You could feel your stomach twist with desire and excitement, and you were absolutely shocked that your body reacted in this way even after an orgasm. 

"And now, my little Empress, I would like to show you what it means to be the wife of the Emperor. His beautiful cock sleeve." Seonghwa gets down from you, but only to take off his silk robe and to pull his trousers down over his long legs until he is completely naked. His hair is now completely loose, long strands the color of sakura petals falling freely over his shoulders and chest. You would want to admire how beautiful his face looks framed by his pink silk hair if your eyes weren't focused on his cock pressed against his flat, embossed belly. Like everything about His Majesty Emperor Seonghwa, his cock was just as magnificent and attractive: the hard, thick length was slippery and glistening with pre-cum flowing from the dark pink head, the vein bulging with tension stood out on its velvety girth, and overall, his cock made you inexplicably want to run your tongue over it and taste its flavor. You swallowed loudly, turning your head to the side, a crimson blush of embarrassment mixing with the lust that now filled your veins with something intoxicating and forbidden and spreading across your rounded cheeks. 

Your mouth opened to say something, but you quickly shut it when you noticed that he had raised his perfect eyebrow in a slightly mocking expression. His movements were slow and elegant as he crawled across the bed towards you like some mythical beast. Long fingers wrapped around your ankle before he pulled you towards him until his body was between your spread legs. He towered over you—magnificent, almost divine—making you feel small and fragile. Strands of his long, sakura-colored hair fell around his slender body. His smooth skin shimmered like liquid gold in the soft, diffused light of the candle.

His graceful hand slid up the curve of your thigh, caressing your soft skin where the marks of his possessive touch had already blossomed, and higher and higher until it reached your full breasts. Seonghwa squeezed your breast before running his fingers around the swollen pink nipple. A pitiful moan escaped your lips as his luxurious, juicy lips connected with another hardened bud and sucked it roughly into his hungry, beautiful mouth. You meowed in response, the new kind of stimulation causing you to arch your back in pleasure and unconsciously push your breasts closer to him. He purred velvetily, flicking his tongue over your tender nipple until it was glistening and wet from his attention. 

Without hesitating, the Emperor lifted his knee between your hips, forcing them to spread further apart, allowing him to slip between them. Your hands rose hesitantly and floated in the air for a second before you found them lying on Seonghwa's strong shoulders. His skin felt warm and soft under your fingers. Your body tensed, and a small cry escaped your parted lips as you felt Sonhwa's teeth bite into your chest, and soon a mark resembling a shining crescent moon formed where his teeth had been. Suddenly, the Emperor grabbed hold of your wrists and lifted your arms above your head, restricting your movements and locking you completely into the cage beneath his body. 

"And now you would like to touch me, my little Empress?" Seonghwa grinned grimly. "First of all, I want to take what is rightfully mine, my star. Beg me for it." He let out a growl. Like a dark, forbidden caress, the low, vibrating sound of his voice went through your body. The heavy, velvety length of his cock pressed against the inner side of your thigh. You wanted to run away, to hide from that bottomless, hypnotic gaze of lust and hunger, but at the same time you wanted more of him, to feel everything you'd never felt before. The thought of how Seonghwa would enjoy you, how he would use you for his own pleasure, and how he would make you his own, subjecting you to his will and his power, made you long for that feeling. You desperately wanted to belong to him.

"Please, my Emperor, Seonghwa, take me. I belong to you." You barely managed to whisper the words, but the Emperor was able to hear them clearly. Embarrassed, you turned away from him, exposing your slender, delicate neck. His hot body merged with yours as his head sank into the curve of your neck. The swollen, wet head of his cock pressed against your trembling pussy. He was still holding your wrists tightly above your head, his sharp nails digging into your skin, but your hips were lifting to meet him as Seonghwa moved forward, weakly, and rubbed the head of his cock against your clit. A low, languid moan escaped from his throat as your soft labia parted a little, allowing his cock to slide into the warmth of your wet cunt. 

"You are so impatient, darling. And that's another thing I like about virgins—once they've tasted pleasure, they stop controlling themselves and start asking for more. Look at you; you're so desperate for me to fuck you, little Empress. Can't you wait for my cock to be inside of you?" He looks so smug, his ego shining brightly in his dark eyes, and a lecherous smile has blossomed on his plump lips. Your natural essence thickly coats his thick cock, allowing it to slide easily through your warm folds, the head of his cock touching your sensitive clit with every move he makes. He is laughing at you, at the way your body is haunting him at every moment. Once again, the Emperor is proving you to be right—you really are hungry for more. You want to feel him all over you.

Seonghwa loves the way you look underneath him—your flushed face, wet from the tears you shed earlier from your orgasm, your skin covered with bruises and his bite marks, and of course, your wet little cunt begging to be filled to the brim with his cum. Maybe that's why he can't hold himself back any longer and slowly begins to push his cock into your oozing hole. You moaned loudly as his cock pushed deeper and deeper into you, and although you had been prepared for it, the way his thick girth stretched your silky walls made you squeeze your eyes shut and feel a slight burning sensation. Seonghwa's cock was too big and thick for you, at least for now, but somehow you didn't doubt that he was going to fuck you until you could easily take his whole length at once. 

When his cock was all the way inside of you and his balls were pressed against your plush arse, he let out a guttural, almost growling, moan as he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck. Your cunt was everything he'd imagined—tight and hot and silky—divine. A small shiver of pleasure went through his body as he felt your walls tighten around his cock. Your answering moan was an unrestrained one, grateful for the hot, thick length of it as it displaced your emptiness, stained your chastity, took away your purity, and filled you instead with an insatiable need. 

He hardly gave you time to adjust to the size of his cock before he began fucking you mercilessly. Obscene sounds filled the air with each of his hard and deep thrusts, mingled with your whimpering and long moans, as well as his enthusiastic purring of satisfaction as he tormented you. His warm breath filled your mouth, forming a subtle contrast to the uncompromising demand of his tongue as it penetrated your mouth and tasted you as you moaned and whimpered. Seonghwa feels that he has become a little bit dependent on you and that he will probably never be able to satisfy this hunger that he now has for you. Your slippery pussy tightened around him impatiently and greedily, hot and wet, squeezing him so hard that Seonghwa let out a low moan of pleasure. 

Seonghwa lets go of your hands and wraps the palm of his hand around your thin neck instead, squeezing it lightly. His grip on your throat makes you gasp, and your moans are hoarse and soft.

"You are all mine." He growls, watching as his cock enters and exits your tight, pink cunt, a thick vein stretching along your silken walls with every movement of his beautiful and skilled hips. Seonghwa can't help but marvel at the way your juices are coating the velvety length of his cock as it plunges deep into you. Your hands dig into the sheets, crumpling the fabric between your fingers as you do so. "Who is your husband? Your Emperor? Tell me, my little star!" Seonghwa demands as she presses her fingers around your neck more tightly. 

"Y-y-you!" You screamed, but the sound of your voice was so distorted that it was barely audible. Your thighs began to ache from Seonghwa's relentless thrusts, but you didn't know if you wanted to ask him to stop when his cock kept hitting the most pleasurable spot inside you, making you feel every cell in your body heat up until it was white. Stars started to dance in front of your eyes, exactly the same—mesmerizingly sparkling stars like the ones in Seonghwa's eyes. "Seonghwa, that's you! You are my husband, my Emperor!"

"That's right, you treat me so well, my little Empress. I am going to fuck you until you are swollen with my heirs and until your little pussy is dripping with my cum day and night. My beautiful star, don't you think that we should give the seven great generals a taste of your divine cunt, as well? Let them saturate you, let them breed you, and let them shower you with caresses and praise. They are magnificent lovers, my star—passionate, tireless, and demonic—and they crave you so much. And here's something else you should know about me, my little Empress: I share everything with them—the battlefield, power, life, bed, and of course, I will share you with them, my beautiful wife." Seonghwa stops what he is doing and looks down at your trembling, delicate body lying underneath him. You can feel how his demonic gaze is burning into you before he grabs hold of your waist and quickly forces you down on all fours, lifting your bottom up into the air. His hand slides along the curves of your inner thighs, running his fingers over the warmth of your cunt and oozing sticky nectar. Two slender, long fingers rub your quivering hole, and you clench involuntarily at the tantalizing sensation of his fingers. 

"Say it once more." He orders you as he presses down on your clit and begins to rub it in rapid circles. You let out a shrill cry, your voice echoing through the luxurious imperial chambers. 

"Seonghwa! I am yours. You are my Emperor. You are my magnificent husband."

The Emperor let out a purr in response to your words, which sound silky and almost sinful. He pressed himself against you once more, thrusting his cock inside of you. Your face was pressed against the pillow before a graceful hand pulled your hair and pressed you against his wet, hard chest. He never stopped his hips from moving. His pace was sure and persistent, his lack of mercy cruel to your tender, sensitive cunt that had never known such sensations before, but still you moaned with pleasure. 

"You are going to cum on my cock, my beautiful star." His teeth graze across your ear before Seonghwa bites down on the lobe of your ear.   All of a sudden, his fingers find your swollen clit and make slow half circles over it, stimulating you even more. Immediately, you feel yourself tightening around his thick cock; your mouth falls open, and your lower lip begins to quiver as you feel that sweet tension at the bottom of your belly. Your orgasm is like a starburst of sensations—the pleasure exploding beneath your skin, stinging you like sharp shards of broken stars—and you almost lose yourself in the sensation. You moan so loudly that you swear the servants outside the door can hear you loud and clear, but whether it's the servants or perhaps one of the seven handsome generals, you have no way of knowing. 

Seonghwa lets go of your hair and grabs your waist instead, digging his nails into your flesh until it bleeds. The squishing sound your pussy makes every time his balls slap against the soft plush of your arse draws a deep animal growl from Seonghwa's throat, the great dragon inside him coming out. The warm, sticky liquid slowly seeps out between your thighs as you shiver and melts into Seonghwa's arms as he holds you upright, your head resting on his shoulder. But it doesn't last long. In a second, you're on your back again, facing the godlike Lunar Emperor. 

He stares down at your emaciated face and at the glistening beads of sweat on your brow. His smug smile was devilish and vicious; he spread your legs again, watching the heat of your tiny, squelching cunt as it greedily swallowed his cock. 

"Oh, your pussy is so beautiful, my star. A perfect little cunt to be filled with the emperor's cum, to be a breeding." Seonghwa's words are nothing more than the sweetest praise wrapped in pure sin. 

Holding your breath, your body feeling boneless and tired, you nod recklessly at his words.  

"You will cum again, my star. You're going to scream out my name so loud that everyone in this palace will know just how good a fuck I give you." He lifted one of your legs and pressed it up against the side of your chest. In this new position, you felt stiff and small under the Emperor's exquisitely elegant body, yet your pussy continued to greedily milk his cock. The vulgar, disgusting words that Seonghwa spoke to you in his deep, velvety voice made your head spin around. It made you feel so soft and sweet. 

Seonghwa fucked you in a deep and rough way. You could still feel the remains of your orgasm boiling in your belly—so sensitive, almost painful. As the head of his cock kissed your cervix, your body tensed, and every muscle in your body tightened like a silk ribbon. Yet, as if it's his only purpose in life, Seonghwa continues to split your heart. You roll your eyes, your lips quiver, and your chest shakes with sobs. You look completely fucked up as you lie there, taking everything the Emperor gives you.

"Who do you belong to, little Empress?"

"I-I, yours, Seonghwa..." You let out a gasp as you felt the tingling sensation of a new orgasm flutter around your pussy. Your soft walls clenched hard, almost restricting Seonghwa's movements, contracting and pulsing around his thick cock. 

"Louder!" He crashes his hips into you, your skin reddening where his thighs made contact with yours.  

"S-Seonghwa, I belong to you, only to you... ah!" 

You feel like you're drowning—falling rapidly and irreversibly into the depths of a bottomless ocean of pure pleasure as Seonghwa's fingers press against your swollen, torn clit. Your orgasm is all-consuming—your vision disappears for a second, your breath is trapped in your chest, and all you can hear is the raging roar of the blood in your veins. You scream—piercingly loud—but the sound barely reaches you. You're shaking, your whole body twisting and writhing from the wild intensity of your orgasm as Seonghwa continues fucking you relentlessly. Seonghwa's skilled fingers move over your clit, matching the rhythm of his hips, making your body shake around him as you go through blissful orgasm. Your juices rush between the two of you, spilling over and down the silk of the sheets. 

"I can't... I can't take it anymore. Please, Seonghwa..." You cried out, the tears running freely down the sides of your face.

Seonghwa leaned forward and captured your lips in an incredible kiss, his hips pressing hard against you as he began to pour his cum as deep as he could, savoring how hard and greedily your pussy milked his cock, your silky walls trembling around him. After a few moments, he slips out of your exhausted pussy, lets go of your leg, and lies down next to you on the bed, his head dropping to your chest as he cuddles closer to you, listening to your heart pounding furiously beneath his cheek. The Emperor intertwines your fingers with his own in the most intimate and tender of gestures. Still in a daze, you lie motionless on the bed and allow him to do whatever he wants to you. 

The Great Lunar Dragon is curled up beside you like a purring, cream-fed cat. He looks completely relaxed and peaceful. Your eyes wander aimlessly around the luxurious chambers, trying to collect your thoughts, but it's only for a moment before your eyes widen—frightened and in disbelief—as you meet the gaze of none other than the great, demonically beautiful General Choi San. Your soft scream attracts the attention of Seonghwa, and his eyes are lazily open to see what it is that has upset you so much. 

"Ah, Sannie, you have frightened my star." Seonghwa reluctantly gets up from you and lightly covers your body with the sheet, but it does little to help the situation, as you can feel the general's sultry gaze burning into your skin. "You should have waited until the morning at the very least; you are too impatient, do you know that?"

"My precious Empress made a sound that was too tempting for me to resist, Hwa. I am nothing more than a male slave of my most beautiful mistress." San purred, got up, and crept towards the bed like a big cat of prey. He moves clean and elegantly, and you can't help but be enchanted by what you're seeing. But the spell is broken as soon as you feel the bed begin to sag under the weight of his body. In an attempt to shrink and hide your body from this breathtakingly handsome man, you pull your legs up. Seonghwa notices this and gently puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and giving you a light kiss on the cheek. 

"My star, you have no need to be afraid of San; he is as gentle as a kitten. You will have fun playing with him, I assure you." Seonghwa's voice was like melting honey on your skin, and you wished you could relax, but the whole situation was just wild; this is totally not how you expect a first wedding night to go. "But first we need to bathe, and then we can go and play again, my little Empress; the night is still so young." Seonghwa literally sings, letting you go and moving around the bed until she is next to San. You watch in silence as the emperor's plump, sensual lips touch the sharp cheekbone of the general for a moment before he rises from the bed and pulls a silk robe over his naked body. "I trust everything has been prepared." It is clear that the question is not directed at you. 

"Of course it has; Wooyoung and Yeosang have taken care of it." San extends his hand to you. It is the same inviting gesture that General Jung used before leading you to Seonghwa's chambers. "Come with me, my precious Empress. Your servants are waiting to please their mistress." 

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[shakibblogs22]

The History of Makeup

Looking at glossy magazine ads of beautiful women touting "the latest cosmetics news," "the best mineral foundation," or "the most glamorous eye makeup that's around," you might also think that makeup is a modern invention. But the fact really is that makeup has been around since ancient times. Through thousands of years of history and different countries and cultures, one thing remains constant: people like to look good. Of course, the types of makeup they used have changed over the years, from dangerous substances like arsenic and iodine to today's safe, natural mineral makeup, which uses naturally-occurring minerals.

Even in Biblical times, makeup was used to enhance appearance. We know this because makeup is actually mentioned in the Bible several times. For example, King 9:30 says, "When Jehu came to Jazreel, Jezebel heard of it, and she painted her eyes and adorned her head." Jeremiah 4:30 says, "What do you mean that you dress in scarlet, that you adorn yourself with ornaments of gold, that you enlarge your eyes with paint?"

Archeologists have uncovered evidence of eye makeup in ancient Egyptian tombs dating from 3,500 B.C. The ancient Egyptians used kohl as eyeliner. It was made of copper, lead, soot, burned almonds, and other ingredients. By the first century A.D., the available makeup also included powders to make the skin whiter and rouge made of red ochre for the cheeks. In ancient Rome, cosmetics were made by female slaves called Cosmetae.

It's interesting to note that, just like in modern times, there in China, there was even a legend that promoted a makeup fashion: it was said that Princess Shouyang, the daughter of Emperor Wu of Liu Song, was resting near some plum trees by the palace when a plum blossom drifted down onto her face and left a beautiful imprint on her forehead. It was said that the ladies of the court were so impressed by the beautiful mark that they began to decorate their foreheads with a delicate plum blossom design. This legend led to the makeup trend called meihua zhuang, which literally means "plum blossom makeup", which was popular during the Southern Dynasties (420-589), the Tang dynasty (618 - 907), and the Song dynasty (960 - 1279).

In the Middle Ages, the rise of Christianity (which disapproved of cosmetics) somewhat dampened the popularity of makeup. Still, some women still used it, especially among the upper class. Being pale indicated wealth and status, because the poor folk had to work outside all day in the sun while the upper classes lived lives of leisure indoors. Thus, women used white lead, soluble paints, white powder, or even bled themselves to get that fashionable pale look. Queen Elizabeth 1 used white lead to achieve a pale look known as "The Mask of Youth. "In the 18th and early 19th centuries, the popularity of makeup again rose among the upper classes. Being extremely pale remained the most popular look. Unfortunately, many of the ingredients in makeup of that time were dangerous and caused serious health complications. Makeup of that era included white lead, mercury, and sulfur. To make their eyes sparkle, some women put drops of poisonous belladonna in their eyes, or tried to achieve white skin by swallowing chalk or iodine. Skin ulcers, poisonings, and blindness were sometimes a side effect of these dangerous makeup ingredients. It wasn't until recent years that safe, natural cosmetics, including today's popular mineral makeup, began to come to market.

In the mid-to-late 19th century Victorian era, primness and modesty were espoused, and garish makeup was denounced as whorish. This, however, did not mean the disappearance of makeup - instead, a subtler, more "natural" makeup look became popular. Since lipstick and rouge were now considered scandalous, beauty books of the time advised girls to bite their lips and pinch their cheeks before entering a room.

The modern era of safer, commercial cosmetics really began in the 20th century. That's when doctors began working with commercial makeup companies to produce safer makeup that women could purchase in stores. The 1920s and 1930s saw the rise of lipsticks, the first-ever liquid nail polish, powder compacts, blushes, and foundation. By that time, nearly all women wore makeup. Modern cosmetics companies that we still know today began popping up. Avon began as a perfume company in 1886, but soon moved into cosmetics. Maybelline was founded in 1915, Revlon in 1930.

Nowadays, makeup has become even safer with the increasing popularity of mineral makeup. Mineral makeup uses natural, safe minerals, ground to a powder, as the makeup base. Among the popular companies producing mineral makeup are Sephora, BareMinerals, PurMinerals, and others. The base ingredients for mineral makeup include titanium dioxide, bixmuth oxychloride, kaolin clay, zinc oxide, and serecite.

The minerals in mineral makeup each have their own beautifying properties. Zinc oxide is an anti-inflammatory, and both zinc oxide and titanium dioxide protect skin from the damaging effects of the sun. Kaolin clay removes impurities from the skin, refines pores and helps clear up pimples, without removing the skin's natural oils. Serecite reflects light, which helps to minimize the appearance of wrinkles. Mica spheres and silk powders gives the makeup a silky feel, which is why mineral makeup provides the best foundation.

Unlike the dangerous substances found in cosmetics in the past, minerals makeup allows women to enhance their beauty in a safe and natural way. This is why mineral makeup is becoming more and more popular and is the latest makeup breakthrough. If you have any questions email me or you can go to my website and get a hold of me there. I hope you have enjoyed!

#makeup #eye makeup

[inthecityofgoodabode]

November Surprises & Light

I can’t say it enough. Tomato plants still being alive this late in the year is an aberration in our area:

I mentioned transplanting our volunteer cannas in this post. What I didn’t mention was dumping the “weak” specimens into the compost bin. Looks like I need to get these plucky survivors out & find them a home: 

I asked my wife which of these two photos I should post: 

She said both: 

Today’s backyard garden harvest: 

#garden #gardening #Vegetable Gardening #vegetable garden #homegrown vegetables #flowers #tomato plant #canna lily #volunteer plant #Honeybees #blue salvia #basil #basil blossoms #herb gardening #sunlight #blue sky #scarlet emperor #kentucky wonder #pole beans #backyard garden #habanero peppers #banana pepper #life in memphis #compost bin

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Evil Unmasked Chapter 2 - Revelations (aka Rex is shook)

Read before continuing:

So, I have decided to make an AU sister series to The Mask of Death. The Mask of Death focuses on the horror of Vader as he is portrayed in canon, with an effort to remain as true to canon as is possible. Its sister series, now aptly titled Evil Unmasked will follow a similar concept - but with a suitless Vader being just as terrifying as the canon cyborg we all know and love. There are several interesting concepts I believe can be expanded upon that simply don’t work within the canon confines, and it will bring in both characters I’ve used for MoD, as well as characters I have not. Just wanted to use this as the preface! 

Ao3 link at the end of the post.

*****

It couldn’t be.

Rex found himself frozen in place, his feet unwilling to uproot themselves and flee. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to run, but all he could muster was keeping his right hand on the blaster in its holster, as he pulled the hood tighter over his head. The sinking feeling that had been lingering in his stomach ever since he and Ahsoka parted ways post Order 66 began to blossom again, building into an unnerved anxiousness. He tasted bile at the back of his throat as his head remained low, but his eyes were focused as ever. Being declared dead in the wake of the rise of the new Empire had its perks, such as the surprisingly uncomplicated ability to sneak into the official inauguration of Emperor Palpatine's government.

The Emperor was a no show, he had already spoken to his unwitting subjects the night the Order was executed, and the Jedi subsequently dealt with. Rex still struggled with the guilt of being forced to kill his own brothers, of being made to bury them. He had their blood on his hands, knew they had been trapped within their own minds, unable to refuse or deny the inhibitor chip and its pre-programmed response. He had nearly terminated Ahsoka himself.

Atop the podium, flanked on each side by a pair of imposing royal guards clad in scarlet, stood Governor Tarkin. Rex had met him before, but never liked the man much. He was a soldier through and through, of military upbringing in a wealthy household with all the benefits that provided. It was clear that he was becoming something of an Imperial spokesperson in the absence of the Emperor. This was his third public speech, this time initiating one of the senate meetings that had been widely debated. The senate had feared the new Empire would be a system within which their services would be rendered obsolete, but it seemed they had argued to maintain at least some influence - however superficial that may be.

But it wasn’t Tarkin that caught Rex’s eye; neither was it the red guards, nor the dozens of troopers - his brothers - lined up behind them in a perpetual salute. No, behind the raised podium hung a large decorative banner. It was beet red, the freshly minted Imperial symbol printed in black aiming to deliver one single message. Yet, in the shadow of the ceremonious event; both figuratively and literally, loomed a man with unmistakably familiar features. The banner was tall enough to block out the bright sun rays spilling from the clear blue skies overhead, obscuring the man.

Rex couldn’t help but focus entirely on that man, even from a distance there was something uncanny yet recognizable about him. At the same time, he seemed a total stranger - enough so, that Rex almost willed himself into believing he had been mistaken.

Until Tarkin called the man forward, that was.

“As a final announcement, the Emperor wishes to introduce to you the very exception to the rule. Amidst the Jedi riot and their attempted treason, one man would not be swayed. One man would prevail, and remain loyal to the Emperor above all. Jedi Master Mace Windu’s attempt on the Emperor’s life was foiled by this very man, and it is the Emperor’s wishes that we accept him wholeheartedly as a sovereign and a paragon of the Imperial government. I shall allow the man to speak for himself, however. I introduce to you; Lord Vader.”

‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029582/chapters/79401946#workskin

#darth vader #vader #anakin skywalker #anakin #skywalker #lord vader #au #star wars #sw #rex #captain rex #the clone wars #tcw #post order 66 #suitless vader #tarkin #windu #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fan fic #fanfics #fan fics #fics #evil unmasked #hayden christensen #matt lanter #bradley dee baker #peter cushing

[gusu-emilu]

Wangxian: The Autumn Chrysanthemum

Post-Canon, Rated G, 1.5k - read on AO3

Background Info: The Chongyang Festival, or the Double Ninth Festival, is a lucky date for longevity, celebrated with customs such as climbing mountains and drinking chrysanthemum wine. The word for 'nine,' jiu, sounds like the word for 'long (time),' creating a link between the meanings.

* * *

Wei Ying raised the jar of liquor to his lips. The sweet, floral liquid swirled inside him, sending a rush of heat, then coolness through his chest. A small, sticky dribble slid down to his chin. He wiped it off.

“The chrysanthemum wine is good,” Wei Ying said. “Very rich.”

He turned to the man beside him. The sight of the gentle curves of his face, his tall, steady frame draped with light blue robes—this image filled Wei Ying with warmth that met the unique coolness of the flower’s liquor, the currents flowing into each other and relaxing his entire body.

He smiled. “Lan Zhan, do you remember the first time we shared a drink?”

Lan Zhan stirred a bit. His lashes lowered as he glanced toward Wei Ying’s feet, raised as their eyes met for a brief moment. Then he looked back out to the landscape stretching before them, a vast green valley beneath the mountain they had climbed, dots of the autumn’s scarlet and golden colors reflecting in his eyes.

“I remember that you used a talisman to coerce me.”

Wei Ying choked on the wine a bit, until his coughing melted into a syrupy chuckle. “Of all things you could’ve chosen to reminisce about, you had to pick that.” He drew in a breath of crisp air and sighed. “Why must you incriminate me so? Tell me that you secretly felt exhilarated by breaking the rules, or that you wished you had let me play with your headband, or that you liked calling me Wei-gege. Don’t leave me to say all the sappy memories myself.”

A flock of geese flew overhead, their wings stroking the morning sun and blending with the sound of the mountain breeze.

“All these things, I remember fondly,” Lan Zhan said.

“So do I.” Wei Ying swirled the jar of liquor, watched the pale, honey-colored liquid encircle itself. “You know, the Chongyang Festival is the only time I would drink chrysanthemum wine over Emperor’s Smile.” He shot a grin at Lan Zhan. “Otherwise, I would always prefer this one splendor I know from Gusu.”

The corners of Lan Zhan’s mouth crept upward. “Flattery will not bring you more to drink.”

“Aiya, you see right through me.” In one swift movement, he locked arms with Lan Zhan and nuzzled his cheek into Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Lan Zhan’s breath slowed, a comfortable swell against him. “I already have too much of one certain splendor from Gusu. Better not to have more.”

Lil’ Apple hummed quietly behind them. The donkey was tired after long months of wandering with Wei Ying, until finally meeting with Lan Zhan at the halfway point to Gusu. And actually, Wei Ying was tired too, for they had only returned from their travels a few days ago.

He sank deeper into Lan Zhan’s side.

“When I was traveling with Lil’ Apple, I kept dreaming about our days in the Cloud Recesses. I…I miss it. Back then. How we were all so young. Not even as old as A-Yuan is now.” He lifted the jar up to eye level and shook his head at it. “You know, I think this wine is making me a little too nostalgic.”

Lan Zhan’s arm softened in Wei Ying’s hold. “Chrysanthemum blooms in autumn when other blossoms are fading.” He tilted his chin up slightly, looking out over the trees changing colors in the valley. “Naturally, upon drinking, one would remember moments passed.”

“Mm, you’re right.” Wei Ying lifted his head from Lan Zhan’s shoulder to join him in admiring the scenery. “I shouldn’t forget the meaning of Chongyang, should I?”

“Jiu yue, jiu ri,” Lan Zhan said.

“The ninth day of the ninth month.” Wei Ying waved the jar farther out in front of them, lifting it higher, as if offering it to the valley. He called out loudly like a proclamation. “Two nines—two jiu’s—two long times—just like the two long lives we will share together!”

He smiled, his eyelids feeling heavier as he lowered the jar and leaned against Lan Zhan once more.

“I am happy you have returned,” Lan Zhan said, his voice quivering a bit, like a pond suddenly overcome with ripples at the final entrance of a skipping stone. “Wherever your future takes you, I am happy for it.”

Lan Zhan had never been one to repeat himself. But this sentiment, he had said more than once in the days since Wei Ying returned from his travels, always with that slight tone of turbulence. Listening to these words might have done more to move the soul than drinking chrysanthemum wine.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying chided. “My future takes me to you, and nowhere else.”

A warm stillness spread through them, passing from one man to the other through their intertwined arms.

“You’ll have to help me with that, though,” Wei Ying added. “I need to build up Mo Xuanyu’s golden core so I can cultivate to immortality with you.” He chuckled. “Who would’ve thought that after everything, I’d wind up as a student at the Cloud Recesses yet again?”

Lan Zhan’s bangs blew in the breeze, waving gently over his cheeks. “At last, you come back to Gusu with me.”

Comfort bubbled inside Wei Ying at those words. He let it fill the cavern of longing that time had dug deeper and deeper into him.

“I am. I am so, so glad to come back to Gusu with you.”

They watched the morning sun rise higher over the valley. A splotch of golden color from a small field of chrysanthemums lay below them, glowing brighter, almost caramelizing, as the sun’s rays strengthened.

“Have you heard of the poet Tao Yuanming?” Wei Ying asked.

“Tell me.”

Wei Ying paused, suspicious that Lan Zhan knew of the poet already and was just pretending. But perhaps he would be content to listen anyway.

“Well, he wrote a lot about the beauty of chrysanthemums. He appreciated their noble nature, their power for healing.” Wei Ying swirled the jar of wine again. “He was a lot like me, really.”

“You have written chrysanthemum poetry?” Lan Zhan said with a small smirk.

Wei Ying laughed sheepishly. “Ah, no, no, I haven’t. Sorry to disappoint.”

Lan Zhan gave him a fond look that said, I know. Continue.

“Okay, let’s see.” Wei Ying stroked his chin, making a show of thoughtfulness. “As Tao Yuanming was growing up, he was surrounded by hardship. Clans were fighting with each other, overthrowing each other, wreaking violence and betrayal at every turn.

“He joined the civil service to help his people, but all he met was hypocrisy. Scheming, thievery, wars.

“Then, his sister died.”

Lan Zhan’s frame grew tense, as did Wei Ying’s own body.

“The death of his sister was too much for him, and the government officials had only ever abused his good intentions, so he decided to flee public life. He went to the countryside to become a meager farmer, and started a new family.

“Generals came by and asked him to rejoin the civil service, but he refused. He could not compromise his principles by returning to that world. Instead, he lived in poverty, for the single richness in his life was the ability to admire nature and write of its beauties.

“Sometimes he felt lonely.”

Wei Ying breathed in the mountain air, along with the calming scent of tea leaves and pine. This scent usually filled the Cloud Recesses, but now it hung from Lan Zhan beside him, steadying him.

“However, there was a visitor who would come to Tao Yuanming’s farm. This visitor would bring him liquor, and simply sit with him, enjoying his company.”

The faint surface of a low wooden table seemed to grow in the space between them, the chatter of guests at a restaurant, the sting of spicy peppers on soft tongues, the crinkling sound of A-Yuan playing with a toy butterfly.

“So Tao Yuanming grew fond of liquor, and he drank it in front of the chrysanthemum blossoms. He found peace and gratitude where one would have thought he had nothing.”

Having concluded the story, Wei Ying looked to his side.

After a long silence, Lan Zhan said, “In these things there lies a deep meaning. Yet when we would express it, words suddenly fail us.”

“Wow!” Wei Ying’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “So profound! You should be a poet like Tao Yuanming, Lan Zhan.”

A terse, barely-audible huff escaped Lan Zhan. “You speak highly of the artist, yet do not recognize his words.”

“That’s Tao Yuanming’s poetry?”

Lan Zhan’s only answer was to gaze back onto the sunny valley, an air of amusement floating in the breeze around him.

“Oh, well. I suppose that’s what I get for trying to impress you.” Wei Ying took another sip of liquor, felt its heat and coolness rush through him.

“Here, you can have the last bit.” He held the jar up to Lan Zhan’s lips. “Hanguang-Jun should drink the chrysanthemum wine of the Chongyang Festival, so he has a long life with me.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes twinkled, the same golden color as the wine.

Wei Ying tipped the jar of wine between Lan Zhan’s lips. Then he placed his own lips on Lan Zhan’s to savor the chrysanthemums a little longer.

* * *

What is there I can do to assuage this mood? Only enjoy myself drinking my unstrained wine. I do not know about a thousand years, Rather let me make this morning last forever.

-Tao Yuanming, "Written on the Ninth Day of the Ninth Month"

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by visiting me on AO3!

I am not of Chinese descent, so feel free to inform me of any cultural missteps.

#i wrote this so long ago and forgot to post it. here it is #my writing feels so different looking back lol #mdzsnet #mdzs #cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #cql fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #cql fanfiction #wangxian fanfic #wangxian fanfiction #emilu fics #emilu creations

[weiying-lanzhan-fics]

i'd give my all (for your love) by saccharinings

Smitten LZ who is dark and mean is dangerous... shiver 🥶

Set in Alpha/Omega/Beta verse

Fun read BUT LZ is DARK in this one so read with caution if this isn’t your comfort zone.

Quotes:

Lan Wangji is enchanted. He’s enchanted by this boy’s silver eyes, his alluring smiles, his tinkling laughter. The scent of lotus blossoms, tinged with a hint of honey-spiced oranges, drifts towards Lan Wangji, and he inhales deeply, eagerly, savouring the boy’s scent.

He thinks to himself, I must have him.

————

And oh, how Wei Ying teases—all sultry smiles and lowered lashes, before fluttering right out of Lan Wangji’s grasp with a knowing giggle. Taunts Lan Wangji with flirty, lingering touches; tempts him with his tantalising ruby red lips, his milky, unmarked neck. Lan Wangji desperately wants to sink his teeth in and bite, let the whole world know that Wei Ying is his.

E, 14k

Summary:

“Presenting to Your Imperial Majesty, the newest Imperial Concubine: Wei Wuxian of the Yunmeng Jiang.”

Lan Wangji finds himself holding his breath. He hasn’t seen Wei Ying in so long—will he still look the same as he does in his dreams?

The doors swing open, and Lan Wangji can do nothing but stare in awe.

Wei Ying is—his robes cinch around his waist, which somehow is even tinier than Lan Wangji remembers, and his hips sway enticingly as he walks towards Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji's mouth goes dry. And— his lips, a pretty pink in Lan Wangji’s memory, are now a seductive scarlet, even fuller and poutier than before. The black lining his eyes elongates them to something almost fox-like, and here’s a knowing gleam in those silver eyes; where the Wei Ying that Lan Wangji remembers had been innocent, oblivious to his own allure, this Wei Ying looks like he knows the full extent of his beauty, knows the power he holds with every sway of his hips.

Wei Ying, Lan Wangji realises, has become a seductress.

—

or; Emperor Lan Wangji will do anything to make Wei Ying his.

#lan wangji #wangxian #lan zhan #wei ying #wei wuxian #wangxian fic rec #the untamed fanfiction #the untamed fic #untamed fic #mdzs fic #mdzs fanfiction #dark lz #lan zhan pov #royalty au

[herald-divine-hell]

WIP - One

The banners bustled and quivering, flapping hard as streaks of gold and scarlet and onyx, carrying the cries of winds bursting from the widening hole. Blue, gold, green, and white wavered, knitting, blending into a landscape with sunlight so bright it brought tears to Awasia’s eyes, clashing with the smudge of gray and black, silver lines flowing with waves of blue around them in a swirling tunnel. If she gazed hard enough, Awasia knew she would be able to see into worlds she never knew existed, each streaks a world wavering, some even murmurers of worlds that long faded away. She did not want to think of that, either. She did not know what the indigo waves were; echoes of the Great Unraveler, perhaps? Cold gripped her blood. No, she would not think of that either. 

The pathway widened, outlined with silver and gold, streaks of light catching within the darkness, unfurling into the eternal horizon. Ira-Daskim’arsmu Eirisa rolled closer, seemingly unmoving, and yet racing. It was hard to see the warriors, sailors, and advisors on the lower deck, mere smudges of grayish shadows. But Awasia knew that they were there all the same, alongside the other five Daskim’arsmu sweeping behind them. Even on ships, the Divine Family must always go first, but that was a good thing all the same. She could feel the heavy wards wrought around her, tighten armor which brought air and took it all away all the same. More wards shrouded the Daskim’arsmu, displayed by the ever so often splashes of blue, like shards of ice, snapping at it, sheening ripples across the unseen barrier, reminding her of its presence. Awasia kept her gaze onto the pathway. There was only the path, and that alone. The thought eased the wards’ pressure on her mind, her soul. In this ocean of darkness, she felt eyes watching her. The Unraveler does not care. Please, Lady of Mercy, be it so.

The final push of the Daskim’arsmu came as a hurl, Awasia nearly losing her footing. Grasping at the beating her heart, she sought the Ayrila, held it and carried a weight to her feet, keeping her steady. Her blood boiled, her mind racing with thoughts which swarmed and slowed, the etching of her life appearing before her and yet obscured all the same. Holding Ayrila was like grasping at the sun, yet anchoring its fire into your heart, a balance of being consumed and not being so. It came from blood, the song of life, the beating of the heart. All life had blood - the skies with their clouds; the sea with their rivers; the earth with its soil and stone. All was a song, wrought by the Weaver, as the First One had ordained. All was ordained. She would not be consumed by the darkness around her. She was the Light of the Holy Family, a flame which united into a wall of fire to protect their being. She would not fail; she would not falter. 

Light blossomed, blinding her, before wavering away into colors that seemed far brighter than they should be. No doubt it came being consumed by darkness, where only ice was the light, the light of death. Before her, mountains peaked in long rows, plateaus swathing with rolling hills. Ahead of them, a great tower rose beneath them, flashing a pale blue beneath a midday disc of a sun, like chiseled ice. Four curving spikes rose at the top, one chipped off in a horizontal slash. A building pushed out from the tower, with a buttress rising from the roof to press against the side of a slick wall. It was harshly built, rigid, and cold, with straight and hard angles. Stains of black splattered as blots on the surface, marring it's hard beauty. There was a battle here, and recent, thought Awasia. Holes marked the building, here and there, black edging against ragged points. A dragon. What world has the Holy Ones brought us too?

A shriek filled her ears, and Awasia whirled her head, seeing the other Daskim’arsmu pass through the pathway. The banners of the Ashayrayian royal family splattered harshly by the passway, then fell limp, rustling with the calming breeze. Around her, the thicker wards, crafted for the Passing, wavered, before thinning out, snapping out like a twig from a greater branch. Breath came easier now than before, but still, wards still were strung about, protection for this unknowing world. 

“That was certainly a less harrowing Passing than last time, no, Ismahaali Shaya?” came a smooth, velvety voice. 

Swinging her body to the voice, Awasia fell to her knees, pressing her face against the cool Amasafayyi floor. Amasafayyi was a metal mined from the Jewel of the World, a gift from the Heavens to the August Emperor Asariah. It was near-impenetrable, able to be shaped and wrought into any weapon, armor, crown, or ship; and with the Heavens’ blessing, they were magic-blessed, capable of becoming anything the magic-crafter could so desire, if they had the mind, will, compassion, and patience to do so. Some had said that it was remnants of the famed Amasahyli, during the times of the Old Age, when the blood of Gods flowed thicker, and magic far greater. Asariah had restored the soul of magic, with his wife Salesa the Whisper of the Winter, and their Companions, near five hundred years ago, alongside his family’s empire. With it, the world had prospered, expanding magic and technology faster than anything since the Old Age. 

The Princess rested upon a throne which was hidden beneath a roof made of gold, with four columns holding it up. The platform floated in the air, by the will of the Princess.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age Inquisition #Dragon Age Fanfic #My Writing #My World #WIP #Work In Progress #DA #DAI

[jemopo6262]

Makeup

Looking at glossy magazine ads of beautiful women touting "the latest cosmetics news," "the best mineral foundation," or "the most glamorous eye makeup that's around," you might also think that makeup is a modern invention. But the fact really is that makeup has been around since ancient times. Through thousands of years of history and different countries and cultures, one thing remains constant: people like to look good. Of course, the types of makeup they used have changed over the years, from dangerous substances like arsenic and iodine to today's safe, natural mineral makeup, which uses naturally-occurring minerals.

Even in Biblical times, makeup was used to enhance appearance. We know this because makeup is actually mentioned in the Bible several times. For example, King 9:30 says, "When Jehu came to Jazreel, Jezebel heard of it, and she painted her eyes and adorned her head." Jeremiah 4:30 says, "What do you mean that you dress in scarlet, that you adorn yourself with ornaments of gold, that you enlarge your eyes with paint?"Makeup

Archeologists have uncovered evidence of eye makeup in ancient Egyptian tombs dating from 3,500 B.C. The ancient Egyptians used kohl as eyeliner. It was made of copper, lead, soot, burned almonds, and other ingredients. By the first century A.D., the available makeup also included powders to make the skin whiter and rouge made of red ochre for the cheeks. In ancient Rome, cosmetics were made by female slaves called Cosmetae.

It's interesting to note that, just like in modern times, there in China, there was even a legend that promoted a makeup fashion: it was said that Princess Shouyang, the daughter of Emperor Wu of Liu Song, was resting near some plum trees by the palace when a plum blossom drifted down onto her face and left a beautiful imprint on her forehead. It was said that the ladies of the court were so impressed by the beautiful mark that they began to decorate their foreheads with a delicate plum blossom design. This legend led to the makeup trend called meihua zhuang, which literally means "plum blossom makeup", which was popular during the Southern Dynasties (420-589), the Tang dynasty (618 - 907), and the Song dynasty (960 - 1279)

[tyrannoninja]

Arrows of Alodia

Japan, 1500 AD

The walls of the castle glowed pale yellow before the face of the setting sun, with blue shingles sparkling on stacks of curved roofs. This radiance conferred the semblance of a tall gold crown encrusted with lapis-lazuli gems. The castle sat atop a wooded hill, overlooking the fields, forests, and scattered peasants’ villages like an emperor surveying his rural domain.

A young woman hiked a series of stone steps that zigzagged up the hill’s northern slope, cradling in a yew chest her arms. Her hooded waist-length kimono and trousers, both dull green like the trees sheltering the path, protected her both from the evening’s damp chill and from any eyes spying on her. Not that the woman had noticed anyone giving her a second glance so far, but nobody in her line of work could afford to let their guard down.

She reached the summit of the hill, strolled across the short bridge over the castle’s moat, and paused to gaze over the sprawling countryside. The verdant beauty of the Japanese landscape would never leave her eyes entirely, yet years of experience had scraped away much of its allure. She knew that underneath its lush and tranquil veneer lay a cutthroat and lawless world of cruelty and treachery.

This would be her last evening in the land. The next day, she would set sail for civilization.

Among the irregular mass of rocks building up the castle’s base was a rectangular slab, as tall and wide as a man. The woman inserted her fingers along its edge and pushed it aside as if it were a regular sliding door. Ahead ran a narrow corridor lit with paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling, a small courtesy she had not expected.

Underneath the more pleasing scent of the cherry blossoms, the stink of dead flesh leaked through the chest’s lid. The woman hugged it against her breast, a queasy nausea swelling in her stomach. Grisly as the odor was, it was only part of the price she had to pay for her upcoming escape.

She followed the passageway through the base until it led into a series of rooms, the walls built of white paper with wooden frames, a building material she had always thought strange. Back in her native Alodia, along the Nile to the south of Egypt, people built almost everything from sturdier materials such as mudbrick or stone. For a race that constantly warred with their own, the Japanese could have stood to fortify the interiors of their homes better.

After sliding open a succession of paper doors, the woman found the Daimyo Takeshi awaiting her in his study. She greeted him with a bow of her head while laying the chest before the tatami mat he sat on.

“I see you already had the way in lighted for me, my lord,” the woman said. She pulled down her hood to reveal her dark brown face and braided black hair. “Very kind of you.”

“I have good timing.” The old Daimyo croaked a chuckle as he laid his hands on the chest. “I trust this is Hiroshi himself?”

The woman nodded as she unslung her bow and quiver. “I took him out in the dead of night. Nobody suspected a single thing. Suffice to say he won’t trouble you anymore.”

Takeshi pried the chest open, releasing the stench of its contents in a full wave. Inside lay the half-rotten head of Hiroshi, once his vassal. The Daimyo’s cackling made the woman feel even more sick than the morbid object.

“Excellent work, Maia of Alodia,” he said. “I see you more than deserve your reputation.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice, my lord.”

Maia glanced around the study for a bag of coins, yet she could find none. The only gold she detected in the room was the paint on some serpentine dragon illustrations on the walls. “Now, where is my payment?”

The Daimyo’s smile vanished. He pulled a curved scabbard from his belt and slid out the katana sword within. “You didn’t really think I would let you go with my vassal’s blood on your hands, did you?”

Maia’s pulse kicked into a thumping panic. She held her bow close to her. “Why not? None of the other daimyo I’ve served had a problem with that.”

“Then they were fools. Think, Alodian, of what would happen were you around to blurt out the truth, in whatever circumstance. The world would know I was behind this all, and I’d have even more insolent subjects to contend with than before!”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t pay anyone to take out your critics, O Daimyo.”

Takeshi stood and drew back his sword, his once pale yellow-brown face flaming red. “Unless I can take you out in turn!”

Maia ducked beneath the slicing sweep of his katana, dodging it by less than an inch. She hopped across the room and swung her bow at him as if it were a sword. Its bottom tip slashed across the back of the Daimyo’s blue silken vest. Despite not drawing blood, he fell over with a yelp and a groan, his sword flying out of his grip and rolling over the floor until Maia picked it up.

Maia strutted over to where he lay and pressed the tip of his katana into the nape of his neck. “I could easily kill you as I killed your vassal, Daimyo Takeshi. But I’ll give you one more chance than you gave him. Pay me the gold you promised, and I’ll leave your hide unscratched.”

“Never!” Takeshi swept his arm aside and banged into Maia’s ankle, tripping her. He snatched his sword back in a springing leap. “I still have tracks to cover up.”

After wheeling away from his next few attacks, the Alodian shot her foot into his shin. He growled a hideous curse and repaid the blow by slashing across her hip.

The cut burned hot through the flesh of her leg. Her rage blazed so much hotter that it drowned out all pain.

Again the Daimyo charged, brandishing his blade with a bloodthirsty roar. Maia sidestepped and swatted him in the skull from behind, throwing him across the room until he crashed through the wall, tore through the paper and splintered the framing. From a leather sheath under her belt, she grabbed a curved dagger and flung it into his spine. After one last guttural croak, the Daimyo Takeshi lay without movement other than the blood flowing out of his wounds.

Signing a cross into the air, Maia whispered a prayer that her God show mercy on the poor sinner’s soul.

“How could you?”

A young woman in a scarlet kimono burst into the study, her hair tousled and her face wet with tears. She knelt sobbing by the Daimyo’s body.

“I’m sorry, was he your father?” Maia asked. She lowered her hand to touch the other woman’s shoulder in consolation.

“No! I was his beloved wife, Ichiko.” The Japanese girl slapped the Alodian away and tore the katana out of her fallen husband’s grip. “Now you will pay for your crime, barbarian bitch!”

Yanking the dagger out of Takeshi, Maia thrust it to parry Ichiko. Sparks erupted from the clashing of blades until the Alodian’s smaller weapon broke in half. She lunged to stab her opponent’s thigh, but Ichiko kicked her into the room’s opposite wall.

Maia had carried half her dagger, and the Daimyo’s widow showed just as much agility. Maia carried only one weapon that would give her any advantage in the fight.: the one she had used on the vassal Hiroshi.

What she needed was more space between she and her target.

After chucking a stick of shattered wood into Ichiko’s face, Maia scrambled to retrieve her bow and quiver. She hurled herself through the hole, over the Daimyo Takeshi’s body. She had an arrow drawn the instant Ichiko launched herself into the air, katana raised overhead for a downward cleave.

Maia fired. Ichiko fell in mid-arc onto Takeshi, the arrow through her heart seeming to pin her onto her husband’s corpse, uniting them in death as in life. It was a bittersweet way for them to go, Maia admitted to herself.

Through her labored breathing, she heard the shrill wailing of an infant.

Hurrying out of the study, the Alodian stumbled into a room, where three flat cushions rested like low beds on the floor. The first two were adult-sized, for the Daimyo and his wife. The third was only big enough to support the naked, wailing baby that lay curled into a ball on it, bawling with frightened distress.

Throughout her career, Maia of Alodia had taken many lives. Some were daimyo rival to the ones who paid her, whereas others were insubordinate vassals like the one she had taken at Takeshi’s behest. Still others had been guards and soldiers she fended off when her missions went sour. It was her way of earning what she needed to survive in a ruthless country. Never had she imagined she would feel guilt or remorse, until she saw the tears glistening on the baby’s face.

He had no mother or father anymore. No one left to comfort or protect him. Instead, he lost them to the cold bite of steel, much as Maia had lost her own mother and father when she was a girl. This time, though, Maia’s own steel had robbed him of his family.

She could not leave him there. Either he would die young in this merciless land or would grow up forever ablaze with hatred for her and perhaps all the people of Alodia. Maia could not blame him one bit for that.

She had to make it up to him, to give him what she had taken from him.

Maia picked up the baby in a firm embrace, murmuring soft words to soothe him. “I shall name you Isaac, sweet one. Don’t cry, you shall be safe with me.”

##

The castle of the late Daimyo Takeshi, once a brilliant pale yellow, turned a luminous white before the moon and stars. Down the hillside steps Maia descended, holding the sleeping Isaac under one arm while hauling the yew chest in the other. Instead of a human head rolling within it, the chest now jingled with plundered gold coins, more than enough to buy Maia a sailing trip away from this beautiful yet deadly land.

Where could she go next? She didn’t know. Her family had fled Alodia when it fell under attack by the Muslim Funj, and doubtless they would have taken the kingdom over and replaced its Christian religion with their own. Perhaps Ethiopia, another African kingdom still faithful to the same God as Alodia, would offer sanctuary. Or maybe Maia could sate her appetite for adventure elsewhere in the East, perhaps the jungle kingdoms to the south or the steppes to the north. Even the empire of China might hold promise, as they enjoyed more unity than the Japanese.

Wherever Maia went, she would carry Isaac with him. She would nurse him, raise him as her own, and teach him how to shoot arrows like a true Alodian.

This and other short stories can be read in my self-published collection Beasts & Beauties.

#short story #fiction #literature #african #sudanese #nubian #black woman #woman of color #warrior woman #feudal japan #japanese #asian #historical fiction #woc #poc #writing

[lunedesangroleplay]

So what exactly is Lune de Sang Roleplay?

Good question! At first glance, Lune may seem kind of overwhelming. Well, we don’t blame you. Lune is a mixture/blend of our (the admins) favorite rp themes. Historical. Fantasy (who can resist super powers?). And smut. Yeah we like to get a little naughty here at Lune. The dash is filled with handsome and beautiful faces and of course the occasional risqué photo. We also love the fae court, so we added in two courts. Solar and Lunar court. Seelie and Unseelie courts. Each muse has their own position. They can be a clan leader and Minister of Justice (there are four types of Ministers). They can be an innocent princess (or not so innocent). The positions are almost endless, and we understand that can be a little daunting... But besides the countless choices of positions our roleplay has, we are a relatively relaxed and fun roleplay. There is someone online everyday and we a have a “family” vibe. 

If you’re a fan of the following korean dramas;

Moon Lovers/Scarlet Heart

Hwarang

Love in the Moonlight

Empress Ki

Jang Ok-Jung

Moon Embracing the Sun

Dongyi

Faith

A Korean Odyssey 

The Bride of Habaek 

Or maybe you prefer Chinese dramas?

Legend of Fuyao

General and I

The Imperial Doctress

Oh My General

The Legend of the White Snake

Ice Fantasy 

Lost Love in Times

Men With Swords

Noble Aspirations 

Eternal Love/ Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms

If you are a fan of any of these dramas, I truly believe you will love Lune de Sang. We have battles between rivals, tensions at court between lovers.

And best of all; All sexualities are welcomes. The Emperors and Empresses may have lovers of any gender. Anyone can. The roles in court are not decided by gender; but power and influence. You can be a clan leader/Minster and be a woman. You can be a concubine of the Emperor and be male. Really, the possibilities are endless. 

We accept ALL asian faceclaims. No discrimination here!

Give us a try! I promise you won’t be disappointed 

Big Positions that are still Open:

Almost all of the clan leaders

The Empress of the Lunar Court

Princesses and Princes of each court

Most of the Gisaengs

Most of the Hwarangs

#Scarlet Heart #Hwarang #love in the moonlight #Empress Ki #Jang Ok-Jung #Moon Embracing the Sun #Dongyi #Faith #A Korean Odyssey #The Bride of Habaek #legend of fuyao #General and I #The Imperial Doctress #Oh My General #The Legend of the White Snake #Ice Fantasy #Lost Love in Times #Men with Swords #Noble Aspirations #Eternal Love #Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms #Historical drama rp #historical fantasy rp #krp ad #krp ads #krp #twitter rp #krp smut #smut rp #chinese historical drama

[aukanemin]

Warmth and tenderness blossomed for me in the cold, and this work was born in them.

It is the personification of peace and prosperity in life, which has passed away anxiety and sorrows, and in the figure - a warrior who has found his way home, was healed and lives in prosperity, deprived of his part - but who has found another in the same hour. The drawing, in essence, is part of a larger project - but at the same time in my eyes it was completed by itself. The man depicted on it is one of my original characters, as well as part of my arcana. You can read about the meaning of the card with which this work is connected, and the history of the drawing below, meanwhile, I hope you will find the contemplation of the work itself pleasant ~

IV - The Emperor

The card of the emperor is the personification of reliability and stability in existence, a wise guiding hand that gives a feeling of confidence and prudence. Meanwhile, my emperor is not so much a crushing force and a powerful conqueror, personifying authority and power over a reader, but a good and knowledgeable mentor, a wise ruler, gently and confidently leading you by the arm. The personification of real power, concluded in the comprehensive peace and stability of the nature of the one who possesses it. My ruler is in many ways connected with other, in essence feminine, cards. It has a reflection of the empress, a sense of completeness and peace, prosperity and prosperity inherent in her card. Priestesses - like Odin, he sacrificed a particle of himself in order to gain the wisdom and knowledge of the hidden. Card of Strength - as the personification of crushing tenderness, conquering restlessness and cruelty within oneself, and the Sun - the immense, bearing the prosperity of light, pleasure and joy of life.

The image in this picture is very old for me - the drawing was dark, hidden full of anxiety, the man on it, excised with wounds, relieved clutching crimson flowers in his hands - his victory, the end of wars and battles, the birds next to him were restless and scared, but tightly pressed. He was a warrior who found his home, taking his first breath in the new world. Now that same motive has become completely different in my eyes - now it is in its own way extremely full of romanticism - pleasure and love, and the man is still a warrior, but already having completed his journey, he is not alone, but basking in the sun. My brightest work, partly not suitable for the general concept - but my emperor is not so strict and authoritative, he is loving and wise, and personifies the pleasures and joys of existence, and his role does not burden, but completes its essence.

He is luxurious and modest at the same time, his smile is thoughtful, but affectionate. His eyes are tiredly closed, and he is deprived of an important part of himself - but he is full, breathing with blush and goodness. Flowers, a sign of his pleasures and prosperity, but not of flesh - not roses, and not a sign of a completed war - not poppies, as it was before. These are begonias whose white petals were touched by a scarlet - a sign of purity and conjugal pleasures, which he is deprived of in his own way - the desire to be a patron and protector borders on the dangerous power and jealousy that are depriving him of peace. He is not proud and not cruel, but the fear of losing control absorbs him, he is sadly alone in his gentle patronage, unable to see his equal in another person. Birds-spirits are his subjects, bathing in his care and adoration, but defenseless and tiny in his eyes, deprived of faces and freedom, although he sees and feels similar, having a hidden bond with them - feathers wandering in the air and hidden under his blindfold belong to him.

The work was pleasant and full of lightness, it gave me a feeling of completeness and inspiration. It differs in many respects from the general nature of my work - perhaps for the better, perhaps not. To everything else, it was originally conceived as a horizontal drawing, which is somewhat confusing and inconvenient. Meanwhile, I got a pleasant experience, thank you very much, everything is great ~

#art #male portrait #flower aesthetic #feminine men #androgyne #fantasy art #character design #gentle #beautiful men #tarot card #the emperor #digital drawing #digital art #dove drawing #painting #begonia blossom #soft aesthetic

[inthecityofgoodabode]

A Spider Nest & Chamomile Tea

Spider nest on a Kentucky Wonder leaf: 

Proof that eggplants are ornamental & edible: 

All in: 

Today’s backyard garden harvest: 

Recently vacated dirt dauber nest on one of our tiny US flags: 

The moss at the backdoor near the dryer vent: 

It has a fine coat of dog hair: 

Having some tea “as the barriers crumble, at the end of the day“:

#garden #gardening #spider #spider web #pole bean #kentucky wonder #eggplant #eggplant blossom #blue salvia #honey bees #texas sage #flowers #homegrown vegetables #scarlet emperor #dirt dauber nest #moss #fungi #mushrooms #chamomile tea #lyrics from the small hours by holocaust #vegetable garden #vegetable gardening #life in memphis #the small hours

[loyalflutist]

Back to Back Gifting (F!Byleth x Edelgard)

Challenge: Edeleth Twitter Week (09/29/2019 - 10/05/2019) Day 3: Back to Back

A/N: Might as well make this comical to an extent. It’s a nice little break from writing angst and inflicting pain on either Edelgard or Byleth, lmao. Also, I’m starting to burn out from this challenge, but... this serves as a good creative training to maintaining imagination, improv writing, speedy typing, and, most importantly, being able to share one’s love for the OTP.

----

Gifts are pleasant. Whether it be for a special occasion or a simple act of kindness, a pleasant fuzzy sensation would spread throughout one’s beating heart. The effects would amplify by tenfold if it was geared towards the receiver’s likes. Although there are few exceptions, such as Byleth, who would barely crack anything more than a simple nod or smile, many find it near impossible to shove the giddy reaction to the back burner.

“My teacher…”

Scarlet carnations. Varying flowers bloomed all-year-round, yet this species was one of her favorites. It’s a shame it only grows under rare conditions… The fact that her professor took the time out of her day to handpick this uncommon blossom tickles her fancy. Edelgard held the singular plant close to her chest, her lilac hues sparkling. A tinge of red discoloration occurred on her cheeks as a genuine toothy grin broke out.

“Thank you.”

Byleth returned a smile of her own and, after caressing her girlfriend’s face, pecked her lips.

“Anything for you, El.”

The next day lazily transitioned into their present. At the monastery, for once, Rhea had nothing for the students of Black Eagle. Every month they were given a special operation to attend to thanks to their fearsome authority and raw strength. However, this month’s tasks were handed off to both Hanneman and the Blue Lions. One would expect the students and elder professor to be disgruntled. Fortunately, they showcased the complete opposite, Dimitri valiantly taking charge of their responsibilities.

“I would love to give you some time to relax, Professor,” Dimitri cautiously reeled his wooden lance back. At the training ground, the young prince crouched, beads of sweat crawled down on the side of his face. He moistened his lips, the older female adjusting her offensive posture with the wooden sword. “I think it’s fair that we take turns with these missions.”

It was a blessing in disguise. Were the stars and planets aligned?

“I’m not sure, kiddo, but you should seriously take this opportunity to enjoy yourself.” Jeralt shrugged his shoulders and shook his head after hearing his daughter’s question. Soon, he playfully tapped the back of his hand on Byleth’s head. “Don’t overwork yourself. You should go spend some time with Lady Edelgard.”

And so, she took his advice to heart. Both Dimitri and Jeralt encouraged the teal-haired to recharge for the upcoming month. Besides, the two knew very well that she and Edelgard should spend some private moments with one another. Romance had no place in times of conflict. Everyone knew that. Yet this rare tranquil moment offered repose to their tired and weary souls. The Black Eagles were able to kick back and revert to their childish natures. As for these two, Byleth and Edelgard immediately gobbled up this scarce time for each other.

What better way than to provide another surprise present to Edelgard’s doorstep?

“These are so pretty…”

Scarlet carnations. This time, there was not one, but five of them. A small band neatly clumped the botanical organism as the noble glanced down at the vermillion depths. She brought them up close, gave it a whiff, and beamed. They not only smelled lovely, but they were also as healthy as they could be.

“I must say, I’m surprised you managed to grow these here on monastery’s ground.”

“It takes time and patience.”

Or could it be from luck? Whatever it was, the house leader treasured these scarlet carnations in her bedroom.

Students that shuffled by her opened bedroom would spot the precious flowers resting in a simple vase. It’s a bold proclamation from the future emperor that her professor had bestowed a wonderful gift to her life. Every single time Edelgard returns to her dormitory, she would always leap onto her bed, sink her elbows into the mattress, rest her chin on the palm of her hands, and stare in awe at the carnations. Both of her feet would occasionally tap and bump their toes with each other as she daydreams about her girlfriend.

‘ It would be wonderful if they were a common flower… Though its rarity is a part of its charm. ‘

The days began to crawl onward at a snail-like pace. Lectures were conducted on weekdays, seminars were hosted on the weekends, hobbies were pursued, and bonding activities were played out. However…

“U-Um… Byleth?”

Scarlet carnations… again. And— wait a minute, are there other flowers mixed into the bouquet? Edelgard lowered the carefully wrapped present in her grip, her brows horizontally straightened as she stared at Byleth. Gifting is a pleasant event in one’s life. However, there is such a thing as one too many gifts… and it so just happens to be from the older female. Sweat flew out of the house leader’s head as stars twinkled from Byleth’s direction. The corner of Edelgard’s mouth twitched.

“…thank you for the flowers.”

This was the tenth time Byleth had given her these blossoms. Though they are her favorite, isn’t this an overkill? Other floral species mingled in too. That doubled the overkill. Her shoulders slumped and a resigned sigh slipped out. When her instructor’s features offered subtle hints of puzzlement, Edelgard immediately piped in with a tiny smile.

“I think these are plenty. I hope you do understand that there is only so much room I have for them.”

It appears that her message has been relayed appropriately. The scarlet carnations came no more afterward. Edelgard will miss the one-sided gifting from her older girlfriend… Although it was a joyful time spent, realistically-speaking, this was applying pressure on the receiver’s end.

“Byleth...”

Dear goodness, the flowers stopped coming, but randomized gifts were provided to the girl in its stead. Everything ranging from vital instruments for documentations and a map of Fodlan to obscure items about fishing and leisure activities was thrust to Edelgard. Edelgard was unsure of how to take it all in, especially with a How-To textbook on “making friends with your enemies” she received just now. She gulped and hugged the worn hardcopy.

“Byleth, I think these gifts are fabulous, but you know I don’t need most of them.”

“?”

“I’m being serious.”

“…”

Disappointment scrawled all over Byleth’s facial features. Perhaps it was too much of an overkill… Gifting is an act of making another person happy. She had done so with other students, but perhaps even more so with her girlfriend. What the socially awkward woman had forgotten was the importance of gifting. Having it done every single day for the past 20 days might have led her action with a negative connotation. There was also the hassle Edelgard had to bear too. Right now, her bedroom is cluttered. Claude would always loudly whistle whenever he peeked into her opened room.

“Never knew you were such a hoarder, Edelgard.”

“I am not!”

“You sure about that?”

“Ugh, Claude, just get out of here.”

The growth of her clutter came to a complete stop after she spoke to her professor. Days began to tick by as the gifts that once occurred on a daily basis cease to exist. Edelgard rolled on her mattress, her fingers scrunching the vermillion blanket within her grasp upon stopping on her side. She narrowed her eyes. It would be a lie to say that she did not miss Byleth’s frequent presents. Edelgard never had anyone reward nor selflessly provide a gift in her entire life. When they did, it was because of a birthday celebration. Nothing more, nothing less. Byleth was the first one to break that mold.

“Um… I hope you like it.”

Another gift. This time, Byleth imparted a teddy bear to the young lady. The stuffed animal was large enough to comfortable hug without sacrificing quality. Byleth shifted her feet as she murmured,

“I made it myself.”

Edelgard examined the creature. She tilted her head, stared at it some more, and twinkled.

“This is well-made. It reminds me of you.”

Then, she pressed her lips on the tip of the bear’s nose. Byleth’s face became as red as a beet from witnessing the intimate action. Her girlfriend mentioned that the stuffed animal reminded her of Byleth… What was that supposed to mean?

Whatever it was, Byleth was at least grateful that her gift went through. The sight of Edelgard’s cheery disposition was contagious; it would even infect members from the other houses. This viral infection came to attach itself to the professor too. She began to tear down her emotional stunted growth and let its wings fly for freedom of expression after spending the majority of her spare time with the Adrestian Empire’s princess. (Sothis seems pleased with the progression.)

Byleth reached over to rub Edelgard’s head. The white-haired immediately caved into the warmth and nuzzled as if she were a cat. This made Byleth chuckle.

“Since we’re almost at the end of the month, I think you have room for one more present.”

“?”

The plushie dropped to the ground. Edelgard’s eyes nearly boggled out of its sockets when her teacher retracted her hand and began to strip her armor. Granted, they were inside the noble’s dormitory. There was no one out in the hallway nor was anyone planning to return back to this second floor for a long while. When the student rushed to slam the door shut, Byleth had begun to peel off her tights. Redness boiled over Edelgard’s face as she tried to form a coherent sentence.

“W-What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’ve saved the best present for you.”

To make her point even more obvious, Byleth pointed at herself. This caused a mini-mushroom explosion to implode over Edelgard’s head.

“#$*%&#$@!!!”

The back-to-back gifting had not prepared her for the rest of today. Byleth was always so unpredictable... Not that she minded, of course.

#loyalflutist #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #edeleth #edeleth week (twitter) #edelgard #Edelgard von Hresvelg #byleth #f!byleth #f!byleth x edelgard #one shot #os #fan fiction #fan fic #fanfic #fanfiction #day 3: back to back

[kouei116]

My Fav Games & Suitors - Mar 2020

MY FAVOURITE 2D MEN

- Ken ga kimi: Sakyou❤❤❤

- Gekke ryouran romance: Wabisuke❤❤

- Trap of musk: Korei❤❤, Rolan

- Shiro to kuro no alice: Jack❤, Snow

- Piofiore: Dante❤, Nicola❤, Yang

- Collar x Malice: Kei❤❤, Shiraishi

- Diabolik Lovers: Kanato, Kou, Carla

- Kuroyuki❤ (Nightshade); Tei (Nameless); Gretel (Taisho Alice); Hayato❤, Rui (Nil Admirari no Tenbin); Noa, Madoka (Blackish house); Ogai (Meiji Tokyo Renka); Haruto (Toraware no Paruma); Toma, Ukyou (Amnesia); Saint Germain (Code Realize)

- Ikemen Series: Sengoku (Ieyasu), Vam ( Vincent, Mozart, Arthur, Isaac, Vlad, Charles), MidCin (Louis), IkeRev (Jonah, Ed, Lance, Mousse)

- Not Otoge: Bungo Stray Dog (Dazai), Kimetsu no yaiba (Rui), Naruto (Itachi), Love O2O (Xiao Nai), 3 lives 3 worlds 10 miles peach blossom (Dong Hua Emperor), The legend of Dugu (Yuwen Hu)

---

CURRENTLY PLAYING

- On PS Vita: Ken ga Kimi (Sakyou~), Shiro to kuro no alice (Jack~), Meiji Tokyo Renkai (Ougai~), IkeSen (Yoshimoto~), DL HDB (Laito~), DL Lost Eden (Carla~)

- On Switch: Piofiore (Dante~), Toraware no Paruma (Haruto~), Trap of Musk (Lizaru~), DL Chaos Lineage (Kanato~), Taisho x Alice (Kaguya~); Nil Admirari no Tenbin (Shougo~); Amnesia Crowd (Ukyou~), Amnesia Later (Ikki~); Yunohana Spring (Izumi~); Cendrillon Palikka (Ulem~); 

- On Mobile: Ikemen Sengoku, Vampire, Revolution, Midnight Cinderella

- On Steam: Hakuoki Kyoto Winds (Iba~)

- On PSP: Gekka Ryouran Romance (Wabisuke~)

---

TO PLAY: DL Chaos Lineage; Amnesia CROWD and WORLD, Code Realize Future Blessing, Collar x Malice Unlimited, Steam prison, Psychedelica of the black butterfly, Psychedelica of the ashen hawk, Dandelion, Hakuoki Edo Blossom & SSL; Ken ga Kimi FD; Rein des fleurs; Kitty love

---

FINISHED/DROPPED: Nameless (Tei, Lance), Mystic Messenger (Ray/Saeran, Jumin), Collar x Malice (Kei, Shiraishi, Takeru); Code Realize Guardian of Rebirth (Saint-Germain), Amnesia Memories (Toma, Ukyou, Shin, Kent, Ikki), DL Lunatic Parade (Kanato, Kou, Carla), DL Dark Fate (Carla, Kanato, Kou), DL More Blood (Kanato, Kou), DL Vandead Carnival (Kanato, Kou, Ruki, Azusa, Laito, Shu~); Brothers Conflict Brilliant Blue (Iori), Brothers Conflict Passion Pink (Masaomi), Period Cube (Zain, Shiki, Astrum), Love Lies and a Heist (Ewan), Princess in the Hotel suit (Kei), Beastmaster and prince (Erik), The Men of Yoshiwara Kikuya (Kagura), The Men of Yoshiwara Ohgiya (Ageha), The Charming empire, 7'scarlet (Isora), Norn9 (Kakeru, Sakuya), Bad Apple War (Higa, Alma, Shikashima~), Code Realize Wintertide miracle (Saint Germain); Iris School of Wizardry Vinculum Hearts (Clyde, Matias~ ); Gakuen club (Toma), Destined to love (Keiki, Haru), Guard me Sherlock (James Moriaty), Lost Alice (Chronus, Allen), Sleeping Delivery (Leo), Cinderella Phenomenon (Rod), Lost in secular love, The amazing Shinsengumi Heroes in Love, Hatofu boyfriend, A.I A new kind of love, Prince of the Resort, Monster's first love, Ninja Love, Fake Vows

#kouei116 otome

[kicksparkleaxe-blog]

Fashion is the pumpkin latte that tries to catch a trend. Trends always adapt, they chart the course of history. Your aesthetic is your politics, and ideal politics are ethics. Abolish American law, it is based on precedent. Break imperialism, and you break through the bars containing past hurts. I don’t know about God or gods, but the empire of heaven is in those that march fearless into the dark, and a frat star can be a soldier, so can a punk or a composer or a metalhead or a rapper, like an engineer does mental gymnastics. A rain dancer is a victim who reports or records everything, and who trusts she can change the system that violated her. Beat a war drum, but never beat a face; when you shoot, make it a camera so people see what you do. Have such good rhythm and pacifism that they realize they should dance instead of hit; make a hit out of any strike, and strike when something is an injustice. We built all of this, we run your cities, we will demolish it if you try to demolish us because we are dynamite: the Nobel Peace Prize is an apology, because some of us survive and thrive. Einstein’s theory of relativity built the atom bomb, but it also confirmed that all interpretations and experiences of external phenomena is subject to our idiosyncratic feelings, bodies, and experience. He explained it by saying put your hand on a stove for a minute or talk to a pretty girl. It’s one minute either way, but if agony can have an eternity inside, eternity is a timeless connection.

Be the cheerleader who forgives and supports the player that beat her, men and women have skin cells and we are trapped and interactive and porous. Everyone has their own battles, no matter how rich or famous or how small, everyone has a different set of privileges and challenges; something can be broke, broken, and Baroque; the gold has the iron that built it inside. Beauty is a heart of metallic glass, it is hard, and it shines like a prism in any prison until the panopticon bursts in a pop; only punch up and you can kick flip an unfair world. Be a ballerina that tackles anyone who asks if you’re an athlete, be the football player as graceful as swans slicing through a lake. If people copy you, it’s because your moves are awesome; delete copyright, because an open-source world might be an Amazon, and trying to survive the tropics; but it is also a jungle gym, and if oppression is your gym, you will always win. Whether you are an athlete or a gamer or a thinker; if you’re a master, you’re a polymath, and everything you do teaches us about everything else. There are no boundaries between subjects or people or countries, Europe just put those there, so remember that all separation is an illusion. When the bell tolls for someone, they reaffirm the wedding of us all.

Swim with anyone who asks including former enemies, and watch friends just in case. Trust strangers, and always be suspicious of the familiar. Never synchronize: a hybrid is the most vigorous of all; a haute monoculture always dies, so when the calla lily plagiarism bridge collects a toll from your work, then laugh and make a song out of the absurdity. This is a theatre of the absurd, so if you have to push a boulder up a mountain again and again like Sisyphus, change the route every time and celebrate the pain, it gets easier as you go, if you’re a kid forever. Children have immortal souls, and maturity is realizing that you need to have that innocence and danger forever.

The strongest swimmers dive into open water, and they are like the ocean: their surface and muscles may break, but their soul never does. You can bruise or cut the shore of a hero, but an ocean is indestructible. When corporations and autocrats pollute the world, the ocean rises: when it burns, the sea boils, and unexpected things survive. When there is trouble, there are cunning exiles. Never stay still or in one place. Build feet like wings by flying from anything that comes your way, including things you trust and like. The best chefs taste everything, and the best curators can critique anything, and love or hate something on each facet when everything is a spherical gem with infinite facets reflected inside.

Justice is cosmic; listen to the static essence of the sound and fury, the censorship and the silent tears, and you will hear the hum, you will capture the tune, you are every instrument. You are a symphony of one and everyone you’ve ever met. Innovation is based on everything, most of all what is outside the official doctrine; the person that knows a cheater best is his mistress. If you really want to know a celebrity, ask the people they left behind for the spotlight, because the dark contains the real stars. If you want to know the heart of a billionaire, ask his maids and workers and his wife and ex-girlfriends if he is kind. If you want to know a petty person, than listen to a Taylor Swift song.

If a dictator throws a bomb, make a shoe factory. If Forever 21 collapses a factory because corporations do not care about lives, then strap cameras to cockroaches and release them into the rubble. Cockroaches have an amazing vantage point, and they will lead you to the survivors in the rumble. Their exoskeletons teach us how to build bionic limbs. Their movements teach us how to hook up a horror movie. A mosquito killed Alexander the Great like a cruise missile he never saw coming, but people who live in poverty or whose families have known conquerers, we would’ve known.

Be aware of threats from everywhere and know that any recording device has a lightsaber inside, and you can kill any army; what is most dangerous is a threat a Sun King does not see. The light of that arrogance is the demolition team we must reflect back. The moon holds the sun inside, and everyone is most honest in the dark.

Capture any fire with aplomb, and be so beautiful they want to buy your alchemy. Build any gadget or product or art yourself to start, and always be recording and building and breaking and remixing, and every second is another start. When you build a brand, offer a living wage, bathroom breaks, air conditioning, offer resources from materials to instructions to workshops so that the seeds can blossom. We must be a greenhouse in a possible nuclear winter. Let interns write the CEO’s speech; they have trusted me, and I realized: not all CEOs, the best ones are inventors and soldiers and artists at heart.

CEOs have believed in me, because the best bosses are entrepreneurs and they can identify whoever has a diamond mind and they never extract something that harms. The truest entrepreneurs trust whoever believes in themselves enough to correct a leader or suggest something new. The best leaders are those who were humble enough to follow, the best architects have built the structure themselves. Try to plant a scarlet future in the cracked soil of the scars you let show, and you will grow the capacity of an orchid with the hardiness of a dandelion. A spore as soft as a lamb and with the delicacy of a fairy and that flight: it has a wishing well inside, and all vulnerability is brave.

An acorn contains an oak tree inside, and a root system is as intricate as any tree. We have arteries and branches inside of us. We contain multitudes: we must leave our bodies and build trees that never die, and if there is a monster, we must run in the wires and rig the space.

Make a wish, make electricity, shake the grid until it breaks. See the shadows behind the wallpaper, and shake it until you crack the cage. Makers make until they hack the system. We will re-code until the source is ethical: the best of the oppressed always are. Be a Frat King and his Chaos Kween in a hipster scum world. When pilgrims invade Plymouth Rock, make the music they want. When Elon buys Stank Memes, because he can only trace and recite what already happened, hack the algorithm, and make Swank Memes he may never know.

Run so fast that the academy explodes trying to understand; you can bike across the world without understanding the physics of how it works. Drop out of a classroom, drop a mike, this is what a runner looks like. They record everything, they forget nothing, they forgive everything: Katniss kiss the LAPD with the photographic shots you took, because not all cops; every cave has sleeper cells filled with idealism inside. Every nihilist was once an idealist, so prove their sorrow wrong, and you have a dreamer: we must lucid dream and that’s how you make your imagination real.

Hug a rapist when he cries for the girl he assaulted, go to Christian camp when you’re an atheist, and if someone hates you, listen, and prove their prejudices wrong by teaching them that every human defies every category if they are authentic to themselves.

Know that anyone who survives in the eye of a storm becomes a hurricane that will shake the world. Forgive whoever hurts you, but store all the proof, cause the system won’t believe you. The outsiders run the system from within, outside, from without, from everywhere and we are no one place for long.

We built your cities brick by brick, atom by atom, we are the molecular bonds, we are the concrete that binds everything you see, we are the beams in your palaces and the rays between the pixels of your screen and all the star dust that inhabits us all.

We clean your house, we listen when you don’t want us to speak. We sing what the kings think is unspeakable. Every jester is a bard, and every tragedy has a comedy inside. Laugh when you cry. Kings are basic, and so are the barbies they abuse if the barbies never question it. It’s a brat that does. Sour Patch Kids forever in a White Milk Dud present. We will build the future, they steal cause they wish they were us, and honestly, not all white people. Not all activists. We change every moment, so record everything, adapt, evolve.

Be a 4D Chess Emperor or Empress. Play Go, play tetris, play every sport, take Plato’s cave and make playdough, and that is the match that lights it up.

Be everything at once. Abolish the binary code the oppressors used to build this illusory world. Poison is a women’s weapon, and a military is a man’s. The best styled tanks play in our movies and are jacked by girls like Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie, the best KGB agents are as covert as a dictator’s daughter who survives. Tiffany Trump is dating a Nigerian billionaire, and Ivanka is actually very talented; if only she had Tiffany’s heart. Not all rich girls, and watch everyone. Take the moves you like, accept how they are, and if they’re wrong, win a game and only do necessary violence.

That’s your reputation: a reputation is your contribution to history. Your actions define your destiny.

A shithole country can rise and its sons can marry a dictator’s princess. Anyone of any gender or any sex, they can show you that everything is a spectrum. If you are mixed, and the best people combine disparate parts like Rene Descartes, then you are a technicolor go-kart in a tabula rasa world rigged against you. We’ll blow up the dismal science by showing that all the subjects are one.

You can’t choose your character base, but if you accept it, you will know who you are. Know your weaknesses, and reverse them into strength. You must distrust all knowledge and burst into the strange, and you will design the future.

The only answer is the question, and the best questions inspire more. Be too cool for school, be too school for cool, be so confusing and unique that no one accepts you, and one day they will idolize you. If everyone says your wrong, but you believe in yourself: history will absolve you, and your echo will be a banshee for the other ghosts in the night who are both haunted and illuminated by what they saw.

This is what an inventor looks like. Anyone. Everyone. Anything and everything inside and out. Don’t wait for Godot. Be divine. There might be Jesus, if there is, you are a God inside. If there is a trinity, the holy spirit is everywhere, especially where it hurts.

3 is a holy number in Christianity, 9 is lucky in China, in Russia you must give odd roses because a double means someone is going to hurt you. Be an odd number that breaks an ignorant world. The Wizard of Oz is a very Odd man indeed. Don’t just use your body, rig the stage.

Perform when no one is watching, because you should busk what you love, and when you perform, do it like you’re the only one there. There is a quandary between self-expression and communication. Express and communicate to yourself, and someone might hear you and understand one day. If they don’t, well, James Joyce died and his final cry was, “Does no one understand?”

It’s okay if you don’t understand. Admit it. And focus harder. Einstein said he is not so smart. He just stays with problems longest.

Siddhartha left a kingdom to be a holy man. A champion dismantles all power. He plays to master the sport or the game or the art. A true master used to be a slave, and he abolishes the house. May there be no more slaves; then we shall master the world.

This is what a prophet looks like; a prophet is a rebel against the illusion of a still world. Ambitious and ambiguous, hoping to inspire you, who wants to empathize with everyone. Realize that love and hate have the same intensity, and the worst thing is to be “normal” or “moderate”, because as Hannah Arendt said, it is the moderates that refuse to see the fascism behind the manners and the current rules. The extremists are very similar, and they’re the ones we remember, for good or for ill, depending on how you look.

If someone is strong enough to harm you, they can also be an effective ally, because they know your blind spots, and they have weapons and strategies that you can learn.

The fringes define the base, because the boundaries measure the board, every law is a rule, and every outlaw is an inventor.  

Be a sex worker in a world that is filled with prostitutes, be Holden Caulfield instead of his screenwriter brother. If Marie Antoinette says let them eat cake, and starves you, be a cake boss and make a culture that France wishes they had. I speak French, it is very beautiful and I’ve lived in Paris: it was my first true home. But I can’t watch 12 Years a Slave in French, though I’ve watched it many times in English. The illusion of the linguistic flourishes: it hurts.

May the oppressors eat their own chaos like Kate Tempest being an intersectional feminist with a prize named for Ted Hughes. We will play out the consequences of their wrongs for them so well, they will want our cake. All the frosting and the decorations have within them a blueprint out of abuse.

Be a Trojan horse or a lover someone didn’t think they’d like, but you’re actually the best. Be a Helen and fuck whoever you want, start a war for your freedom, and trust anyone who would fight a battle for you. Be Joan of Arc in a Teen Vogue world that only catalogues the basic, but wishes it was you. Another magazing in another country for adults will invite you to shoot for them; that’s happened to me.

All selfies are solipsism. May your self worth be a documentary that tells your truth. A hero’s journey never dies, and a hero is anyone that tries. Anyone is a hero. This is the West Coast. You cotillion shits and Dismay-flour equestrians and polo players invaded, so we will use your ashes to build a better world. We will beat you at your own games, we will make our own, and we will break and bend this into a better world. Bend it like Beckham, but Bend it like Beckett too.

Europe is dying and exported its fascism. We are a port to the East, we come from the South. Westworld is basic. This is a globe. A circle has infinite edges according to mathematical theory, and Thomas Ligotti and True Detective. A circle includes everyone, and a sphere defies every box by bending its architecture to show its confinement, or being too big to fit. Throw balls, jump a base, dive from a board or a helicopter or a bungee, be a gymnast, be a football player, be an inventor, be an entrepreneur, be a scientist, and if you are an artist, be a dissident. Shoot the hipsters. Explode the academy. May the earth be our school.

Fashion is the pumpkin latte that tries to catch a trend. Trends always adapt, they chart the course of history. Your aesthetic is your politics, and ideal politics are ethics. Abolish American law, it is based on precedent. Break imperialism, and you break through the bars containing past hurts. I don’t know about God or gods, but the empire of heaven is in those that march fearless into the dark, and a frat star can be a soldier, so can a punk or a composer or a metalhead or a rapper, like an engineer does mental gymnastics. A rain dancer is a victim who reports or records everything, and who trusts she can change the system that violated her. Beat a war drum, but never beat a face. Have such good rhythm and pacifism that they realize they should dance instead of hit; make a hit out of any strike, and strike when something is an injustice. We run your city, we will demolish it if you try to demolish us.

Be the cheerleader who forgives and supports the player that beat her, men and women have skin cells and we are trapped and interactive and porous. Everyone has their own battles, no matter how rich or famous or how small; something can be broke, broken, and Baroque; the gold has the iron that built it inside. Beauty is a heart of metallic glass, it is hard, and it shines like a prism in any prison until the panopticon bursts in a pop; only punch up and you can kick flip an unfair world. Be a ballerina that tackles anyone who asks if you’re an athlete, be the football player as graceful as swans slicing through a lake. If people copy you, it’s because your moves are awesome; delete copyright, because an open-source world might be an Amazon, and trying to survive the tropics; but it is also a jungle gym, and if oppression is your gym, you will always win. Whether you are an athlete or a gamer or a thinker; if you’re a master, you’re a polymath, and everything you do teaches us about everything else. There are no boundaries between subjects or people, Europe just put those there, so remember that all separation is an illusion. When the bell tolls for someone, they reaffirm the wedding of us all.

Swim with anyone who asks including former enemies, and watch friends just in case. Trust strangers, and always be suspicious of the familiar. Never synchronize: a hybrid is the most vigorous of all; a haute monoculture always dies, so when the calla lily plagiarism bridge collects a toll from your work, then laugh and make a song out of the absurdity. This is a theatre of the absurd, so if you have to push a boulder up a mountain again and again like Sisyphus, change the route every time and celebrate the pain, it gets easier as you go if you’re a kid forever. Children have immortal souls, and maturity is realizing that you need to have that innocence and danger forever.

The strongest swimmers dive into open water, and they are like the ocean: their surface and muscles may break, but their soul never does. You can bruise or cut the shore of a hero, but an ocean is indestructible. When there is smog, the ocean rises. When there is trouble, there are cunning exiles. Never stay still or in one place. Build feet like wings by flying from anything that comes your way, including things you like. The best chef has a taste for everything.  

Justice is cosmic; listen to the static essence of the sound and fury, the censorship and the silent tears, and you will hear the hum, you will capture the tune, you are every instrument. You are a symphony of one and everyone you’ve ever met. Innovation is based on everything, most of all what is outside the official doctrine; the person that knows a cheater best is his mistress. If you really want to know a celebrity, ask the people they left behind for the spotlight, because the dark contains the real stars. If you want to know the heart of a billionaire, ask his maids and workers if he is kind.

If a dictator throws a bomb, make a shoe factory. If Forever 21 collapses a factory because corporations do not care about lives, then strap cameras to cockroaches and release them into the rubble. Cockroaches have an amazing vantage point, and they will lead you to the survivors in the rumble. Their exoskeletons teach us how to build bionic limbs. Their movements teach us how to hook up a horror movie. A mosquito killed Alexander the Great like a cruise missile he never saw.

Be aware of threats from everywhere and know that any recording device has a lightsaber inside, and you can kill any army; what is most dangerous is a threat a Sun King does not see. The light of that arrogance is the demolition team we must reflect back. The moon holds the sun inside, and everyone is most honest in the dark.

Capture any fire with aplomb, and be so beautiful they want to buy your alchemy. Build any gadget or product or art or thought yourself to start, and always be recording and building and breaking and remixing, and every second is another start. When you build a brand, offer a living wage, bathroom breaks, air conditioning, offer resources from materials to instructions to workshops so that the seeds can blossom. We must be a greenhouse in a possible nuclear winter. Let interns write the CEO’s speech; they have trusted me, and I realized: not all CEOs, the best ones are inventors and soldiers and artists at heart. Your brand should be your soul, it should reflect your actions and your fate and the response you chose, it should be bonded by everyone you’ve ever hired, everyone who has ever inspired you, the people you inspire, and the sweat of everyone’s brow.

CEOs have believed in me, because the best bosses are entrepreneurs and they can identify whoever has a diamond mind and they never extract something that harms. The truest entrepreneurs trust whoever believes in themselves enough to correct a leader or suggest something new. The best leaders are those who were humble enough to follow, the best architects have built the structure themselves. Try to plant a scarlet future in the cracked soil of the scars you let show, and you will grow the capacity of an orchid with the hardiness of a dandelion. A spore is as soft as a lamb, with the delicacy of a fairy and that flight: it has a wishing well inside, and all vulnerability and every hope makes a brave warrior.

An acorn contains an oak tree inside, and a root system is as intricate as any tree. We have arteries and branches inside of us. We contain multitudes: we must leave our bodies and build trees that never die, and if there is a monster, we must run in the wires and rig the space.

Make a wish, make electricity, shake the grid until it breaks. See the shadows behind the wallpaper, and shake it until you crack the cage. Makers make until they hack the system. We will re-code until the source is ethical: the best of the oppressed always are. Be a Frat King and his Chaos Kween in a hipster scum world. When pilgrims invade Plymouth Rock, make the music they want. When Elon buys Stank Memes, because he can only trace and recite what already happened, hack the algorithm, and make Swank Memes he may never know.

Run so fast that the academy explodes trying to understand; you can bike across the world without understanding the physics of how it works. Drop out of a classroom, drop a mike, this is what a runner looks like. They record everything, they forget nothing, they forgive everything: Katniss kiss the LAPD with the photographic shots you took, because not all cops; every cave has sleeper cells filled with idealism inside. Every nihilist was once an idealist, so prove their sorrow wrong, and you have a dreamer: we must lucid dream and that’s how you make your imagination real.

Hug a rapist when he cries for the girl he assaulted, go to Christian camp when you’re an atheist, and if someone hates you, listen, and prove their prejudices wrong by teaching them that every human defies every category if they are authentic to themselves.

Know that anyone who survives in the eye of a storm becomes a hurricane that will shake the world. Forgive whoever hurts you, but store all the proof, cause the system won’t believe you. The outsiders run the system from within, outside, from without, from everywhere and we are no one place for long.

We built your cities brick by brick, atom by atom, we are the molecular bonds, we are the concrete that binds everything you see, we are the beams in your palaces and the rays between the pixels on your screen and all the star dust that inhabits us all.

We clean your house, we listen when you don’t want us to speak. We sing what the kings think is unspeakable. Every jester is a bard, and every tragedy has a comedy inside. Laugh when you cry. Kings are basic, and so are the Barbies they abuse if the Barbies never question it. It’s a Bratz or a troll doll that does. Sour Patch Kids forever in a White Milk Dud present. We will build the future, they steal cause they wish they were us, and honestly, not all white people. Not all activists. We change every moment, so record everything, adapt, evolve.

Be a 4D Chess Emperor or Empress. Play Go, play tetris, play every sport, take Plato’s cave and make playdough, and that is the match that lights it up.

Be everything at once. Abolish the binary code the oppressors used to build this illusory world. Poison is a women’s weapon, and a military is a man’s. The best styled tanks play in our movies and are jacked by girls like Megan Fox and Angelina Jolie, the best KGB agents are as covert as a dictator’s daughter who survives. Tiffany Trump is dating a Nigerian billionaire, and Ivanka is actually very talented; if only she had Tiffany’s heart. Not all rich girls, and watch everyone. Take the moves you like, accept how they are, and if they’re wrong, win a game and only do violence in self-defense.

That’s your reputation: a reputation is your contribution to history. Your actions define your destiny.

A shithole country can rise and its sons can marry a dictator’s princess. Anyone of any gender or any sex, they can show you that everything is a spectrum. If you are mixed, and the best people combine disparate parts like Rene Descartes, then you are a technicolor go-kart in a tabula rasa world rigged against you. We’ll blow up the dismal science by showing that all the subjects are one.

You can’t choose your character base, but if you accept it, you will know who you are. Know your weaknesses, and reverse them into strength. You must distrust all knowledge and burst into the strange, and you will design the future.

The only answer is the question, and the best questions inspire more. Be too cool for school, be too school for cool, be so confusing and unique that no one accepts you, and one day they will idolize you. If everyone says you’re wrong, but you believe in yourself: history will absolve you, and your echo will be a banshee for the other ghosts in the night, who are both haunted and illuminated by what they saw.

This is what an inventor looks like. Anyone. Everyone. Anything and everything inside and out. Don’t wait for Godot. Be divine. There might be Jesus, if there is, you are a God inside. If there is a trinity, the holy spirit is everywhere, especially where it hurts.

3 is a holy number in Christianity, 9 is lucky in China, in Russia you must give odd roses because a double means someone is going to hurt you. Be an odd number that breaks an ignorant world. The Wizard of Oz is a very Odd man indeed. Don’t just use your body, rig the stage.

Perform when no one is watching, because you should busk what you love, and when you perform, do it like you’re the only one there. There is a quandary between self-expression and communication. Express and communicate to yourself, and someone might hear you and understand one day. If they don’t, well, James Joyce died and his final cry was, “Does no one understand?”

It’s okay if you don’t understand. Admit it. And focus harder. Einstein said he is not so smart. He just stays with problems longest.

Siddhartha left a kingdom to be a holy man. A champion dismantles all power. He plays to master the sport or the game or the art. A true master used to be a slave, and he abolishes the house. May there be no more slaves; then we shall master the world.

This is what a prophet looks like; a prophet is a rebel against the illusion of a still world. Ambitious and ambiguous, hoping to inspire you, who wants to empathize with everyone, including the people they sometimes hate for the pain. Realize that love and hate have the same intensity, and the worst thing is to be “normal” or “moderate”, because as Hannah Arendt said, it is the moderates that refuse to see the fascism behind the manners and the current rules and the fringes who see that anarchy is the fairest forge of all. The extremists are very similar, and they’re the ones we remember, for good or for ill, depending on how you look.

If someone is strong enough to harm you, they can also be an effective ally, because they know your blind spots, and they have weapons and strategies that you can learn.

The fringes define the base, because the boundaries measure the board, every law is a rule, and every outlaw is an inventor: the instruction manual and guidebook are everything you’ve ever consumed; understand what you eat, or it will consume you.  

Be a sex worker in a world that is filled with prostitutes, be Holden Caulfield instead of his screenwriter brother. If Marie Antoinette says let them eat cake, and starves you, be a cake boss and make a culture that France wishes they had. I speak French, it is very beautiful and I’ve lived in Paris: it was my first true home. But I can’t watch 12 Years a Slave in French, though I’ve watched it many times in English. The illusion of the linguistic flourishes: it hurts.

May the oppressors eat their own chaos like Kate Tempest being an intersectional feminist with a prize named for Ted Hughes. We will play out the consequences of their wrongs for them so well, they will want our cake. All the frosting and the decorations have within them a blueprint out of abuse.

Be a Trojan horse or a lover someone didn’t think they’d like, but you’re actually the best. Be a Helen and fuck whoever you want, start a war for your freedom, and trust anyone who would fight a battle for you; if someone would’ve launch a war for you, leave, and if they gang-rape you or batter your or abuse you, honestly, try to let their new girlfriends know and keep an eye on your ex-abuser, like we must protect each other. Be Joan of Arc in a Teen Vogue world that only catalogues the basic, but wishes it was you. Another magazine in another country for adults will invite you to shoot for them; that’s happened to me.

All selfies are solipsism. May your self worth be a documentary that tells your truth. A hero’s journey never dies, and a hero is anyone that tries. Anyone is a hero. This is the West Coast. You cotillion shits and Dismay-flour equestrians and polo players invaded, so we will use your ashes to build a better world. We will beat you at your own games, we will make our own, and we will break and bend this into a better world. Bend it like Beckham, but Bend it like Beckett too; not all players and not all white boys, anyone can be an ally if you let them.

Europe is dying and exported its fascism. We are a port to the East, we come from the South. Westworld is basic. This is a globe. A circle has infinite edges according to mathematical theory, and Thomas Ligotti and True Detective. A circle includes everyone, and a sphere defies every box by bending its architecture to show its confinement, or being too big to fit. Throw balls, jump a base, dive from a board or a helicopter or a bungee, be a gymnast, be a football player, be an inventor, be an entrepreneur, be a scientist, and if you are an artist, be a dissident. Shoot the hipsters. Explode the academy. May the earth be our school.

#abolish #hierarchy #accept #everyone #forgive #love #hate #pain #make #record #hero #journey #choose #destiny #actions #banned #instagram #game #art #sport #brand #self #punk #fashion #create #politics #aesthetics #ethics #mythology

[akelyokikagu]

White Peony Court - 01

The White Peony Court

Princess Kagura had everything she wanted— wisdom, power and the most sublime things of the world. The war ended two years ago with the death of her father and the rise of her brother, Kamui. He even granted her ridiculous request for a harem and she had just snatched a young official from Kamui: Okita Sougo. Lot of smut, Kaguoki and includes a male!Nobume.

Chapter One: The Princess

As far as Kagura was concerned she was of imperial blood. Their father, Umibozu, had died two years ago in a battle against other Amantos and through his death, a clear-cut border was also drawn between the scattered tribes and their kingdom.

The world under heaven, after a long period of division, tends to unite; after a long period of union, tends to divide. (1)

Those words had never been truer in their era, for their country had reunified once again and all enemies brought to submission. Umibozu shall be remembered as a legendary emperor who died for the greater good, and her brother Kamui seen as a young war hero who not only led his troupe well but also announced a new era of peace.

The people needed such calm after a terrible war of five years against all kind of tribes living at their borders, each one greedier than the other. The endless conflicts led to a general coalition against the greater nation, the tribes pooled all of their strength in one force and it wasn't easily that Kouan defended its territory. The mountains, especially, proved to be a major difficulty to protect and Kamui exceeded the expectations with his own army— the Harusame— by defeating every single opponent who dared to take cross their path.

Kamui became the Emperor at the death of their father and as for herself, Kagura stayed as a princess for she decided not to marry yet. With the rise of her brother, suitors multiplied and huddled the palace. They were sons of generals, of powerful officials, of rich merchants. Like every princess in Kouan, Kagura's quarter was built far from the politics and thus from the emperor's quarter as well as the officials' buildings yet they managed to catch glimpses of her, trying to court her.

Gifts, poems, meaningful glances... She was the most wanted daughter-in-law of the land, and further. Musicians sang her beauty across kingdoms, her beautiful eyes coloured by the Heaven (2) itself, her striking red hair and white skin like jade. Kagura breathed of the imperial family's characteristic elegance and charisma, men threw themselves at her feet. They all had an interest in a way: the conquest of a famous beauty, of political power or both for the most ambitious whereas she had none for them.

At nineteen, the prized princess was still unmarried and while it wasn't unheard of, one could wonder why didn't she seize the opportunity of her youth and fame to catch a good husband before she could be rivalled if not surpassed. The answer to her reluctance to marry could be found in her education; unlike her ancestors, Kagura made her way in men studies. She had no taste in sitting for hours to stare at parchments but she loved dearly her brother Kamui and refused to be separated from him when he was of age to learn about history, languages and everything an imperial heir had to be knowledgeable of. She followed him, exasperating and amusing at the same time Kamui's teachers.

During the war they couldn't have been prouder, she proved her use by attending the countless meetings and planned schemes for Kouan. Even if she didn't participate in the battlefield, Kagura gained the praises of historians and her people.

When the palace held banquets every day for a whole week, celebrating the end of the war and the victory, Kagura was only joking when said those words:

"Kamui, we may be from different genders but both of us were helped by the Heaven as heirs to our Father. Since you got a harem (3)," she looked at all the beauties gathered around her brother, "Shouldn't I get one too?"

Her brother had always been someone she was close with, and also knew her bore of all those men throwing empty words at her, accepted. A princess having a harem— it was unheard of. Many contested, a princess was to be virtuous so how could they grant her wish for a harem? What would be the use of a harem anyway, for a woman who could only become pregnant with one man at a time?

Kamui silenced them all. He was the emperor, the Greatest thus his words indisputable. He decided to scurry portraits and rumours, brought the thirty most handsome men in the kingdom for his sister. All of them not only possessed beauty but were as talented as any of his consorts would be expected to, his sister had a mind greater than most men and naturally, those who entertain her should be as great as her.

In two years, Kagura's harem built its stability and operation. At its top, stood three men out of the thirty who managed to catch her deepest affections in a way or another.

The first, Imai Nobuhito was a human who had been captured during the war and offered to Kagura. He was a silent but a strong man and could rival a Yato with technical expertise in swordsmanship and despite his background, Nobuhito became very loyal to Kagura to the point of becoming her current favourite.

The second was Shimura Shinpachi, a Yato considered as defective for he was born without any strength. To prove his worth, the young man had worked harder than anyone else and was a genius adviser with an interest in human swords. Nonetheless, his relationship with princess Kagura was known to be purely one of a friendship, though a very strong one. He was both her adviser and confidant.

The third man was once known as the first, he was named Hisashi Hongo. His youthful look, brightness and amiable personality immediately echoed with Kagura's. He was once a great warrior like all men from his family; however, following a severe injury Hisashi's body had become weak and instead he pushed his passion into music and poems. Kagura cherished him dearly and didn't dare to endanger his health further with physical activities thus their relationship became platonic and disregarded by the other men.

Soon, the men serving in Kagura's harem were called "Mianshou (4)".

Nobuhito accompanied Kagura in the front line before the others Mianshou, clad in deep blue silk with scarlet birds embroidered on his dress. He was dashing as always, his long hair tied in a ponytail as he confidently walked beside the princess with a sword at his hips.

The emperor's edict was announced just yesterday, Kagura was to attend the selection of the new officials at the palace with the help of Shimura Shinpachi and Nobuhito as her personal guard. While only the two of them were invited, the other Mianshou, of course, decided to demonstrate their loyalty by accompanying the princess, vying for her attention.

Today again, her presentation was irreproachable. Her favourite maids, Tsukkuyo and Tae Shimura had done a magnificent job at applying her makeup. The powder they set was sheer, Kagura's skin was still peerless, and her lips tinted with a shade of jujube (5) that complimented the light pink dress she wore.

"I want to walk in the garden afterwards," Kagura voiced her desire to Nobuhito. "It's a beautiful day, tell Sen to prepare my favourite tea and cakes, Nobu."

"As you wish," Nobuhito bowed slightly. The Mianshou behind cursed him, their eyes full of envy as the princess leant to his ears, whispering her commands. In their world, the closest to the princess was not only blessed with her favour but their family would be gifted with money and power. Everyone knew how keen the emperor's ears was to her words. A few whispers and their family could become one of the most honoured in the country and them, bathed in luxuries.

They walked past the White Peony Courtyard, Kagura's residence, admiring the palace. The buildings were all richly ornated, painted with red and imperial purple flags were scattered like the cherry blossoms, as they were in the wake of Spring. The Mianshous rarely wandered out of their court and left it only for important events if they were deemed to be interesting enough by the princess. As they eased closer to the main building, officials in blue and green dresses huddled with parchments while the younger, clad in black, were waiting in line to be called by the emperor for their examination. The emperor Kamui had to build his own rule, every year he would throw officials out and select new ones who suited him better. He refused to be the shadow of his father, nor did he want to be manipulated by his oldest acquaintances.

"Is that Princess Kagura?" The men asked each other, surprised by the appearance of a woman at this time of the year, in the emperor's court nonetheless. If there was to be one female able to do this, it would be the famous princess.

"Obviously, look at her hair."

"She's even more beautiful in reality than in paintings."

"Look at that, her Mianshous... I wonder if it's a good thing for this kind of woman to advise the Emperor." Shinpachi was immediately irritated at their words, but Kagura only steeled her smile.

"Don't embarrass me in front of my brother," she said to him. The way she would pull her purple fan from her sleeve, deploying it to hide half of her face was full of poise. Kagura's eyes smiled in her stead at the young officials, startling them all.

As she bypassed them, the other Mianshous left— with the words of Nobuhito— while the trio continued their way. The room of the emperor was as expected: grandiose. Golden tapestry, expensive wood, famous paintings and sculptures created the regal atmosphere. At its centre was a large carpet with a Phoenix, and higher, beyond the steps, was a large painting of a dragon behind the emperor.

Kagura, Nobuhito and Shinpachi walked to the centre of the room. While both Mianshou had to kneel in front of the emperor, their forehead touching the carpet, Kagura only had another kind of greeting. Her legs bowed slightly, she kept her back straight and overlaid her palms so they'd touch each other— her elbows at a straight angle. Her face gently moved towards the floor, showing the respect due to the emperor.

"The princess greets the emperor," she said.

"These mianshou greet the great emperor," Nobuhito and Shinpachi followed. At the top of the room, superelevated was Kamui on his throne, made of a lavish pillow and a dark wood table in front of him. However, the gigantic purple dragons that danced and laced themselves painted behind him imposed a strong aura. He himself was clad in his official outfit, all in purple (6) and gold with a heavy crown on his head, his red locks falling out from it.

He greeted Kagura with a delighted smile, "The princess and her Mianshou can rise."

They did so, guided by Kagura who trotted to a sit just below her brother. Of course, as only men of a harem, Shinpachi and Nobuhito were sat even further down.

"The selection can start," Kamui announced in a loud voice as a man in the room nodded and rang the gong.

First, ten men entered the room and kneeled. After the formal greeting was done, they introduced themselves but strangely Kagura didn't pay any attention. Usually, she'd remember their family names, where they came from or if their faces or names were familiar to her. Instead, she was introduced to a pair of red eyes.

An official rose up, bowed and announced: "Official Abuto presents to the great emperor the ten men with the highest score on the Imperial Exam." Okita Sougo— she buried the name deep in her mind. He was ranked third in the Imperial Exam, and while the first two were from an old and important family, his sounded completely unknown. And her suspicions were confirmed when he announced being from the countryside.

For a poor country boy to rank so high in the exam, Kagura was undoubtedly surprised. He looked just four or three years younger than her, and his eyes had a kind of magnetism she couldn't deny nor explain.

But one thing; however, she was sure of was that she wanted him in her harem.

1. Quote from the start of The Romance of Three Kingdoms, one of the four legendary books in China. It's a romanced story of the three kingdoms era, and their wars— for that reason, it's also a very strategical book that is recommended to read.   2. The Heaven was situated in the sky, which is why astrology is taken very seriously in China or Asia in general, as stars and such are "signs from the Heaven" and thus, of the Gods'.  3. An emperor, in China, possessed a rather spectacular harem that could be amounted to a thousand or way more. Of course, most were low-ranked and were only servants to the high-ranked one, the hierarchy was very strict. The emperor had a harem to show his power, but also to give him as many heirs as possible and there existed a schedule based on the Moon's cycle (believed to influence fertility) depending on each women's ranks.  4. Mianshou 面首, literally means "prime faces".   5. A red fruit, called the chinese date. It's sweet, and often used in chinese deserts!   6. Purple dye was very expensive, and increased the value of purple clothing thus it became the colour of the imperial family along with gold. This story is based on real chinese princess called Liu Chuyu, aka Princess Shanyi. 

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