#is pure and sheds the light of truth
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Arguing with this dude and he said the ichor in my veins runs black with falsehood and lies, how do I even come back from that??
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Rude
Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou/fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!], established relationship, oral [f!receiving], bakugou being a motherfucking tease.
Word count: 1.8k
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“Ugh… Why do you always gotta be like that, Kat?”
KATSUKI’S mouth leaves your pussy with a wet pop! at the question you whine into the vast space of his tidy living room.
The place is dark with the late hour; the turned on television being the sole exception of shedding some light to the otherwise pitch-black room.
Every change of scene and camera angle to come from the movie both you and him are currently too preoccupied to watch, causes oddly-shaped shadows to dance on the walls that are tastefully covered in prime artwork.
Your eyes have trouble following the shifting and thrashing of dark versus light from how badly you wish to flutter them shut. The pure, unrelenting bliss you're feeling in that exact moment is hard to endure. It makes your eyelids heavy with lust.
The noise that creeps up from the busy street several floors below the chic apartment sounds faint in comparison to your hammering pulse. Chatter, occasional traffic and music from countless bars fill your ears every second. Sure, the city might be buzzing with life at half past two in the morning, but you are goddamn crackling with it.
And your boyfriend is to blame for it.
Looking down - past your heaving chest and trembling stomach - you now busy yourself by eyeing the glimmer of the thin strings of saliva that bridge the narrow, but empty space between his mouth and your throbbing cunt.
The sight is peculiar. Hot. His warm drool clings to his plump bottom lip and produces a delicious sheen on the tender flesh that’s currently in the colour of ripe cherries from all the kisses he’s left right between your trembling legs so far.
The lewd connection snaps as soon as a grin, that you can best describe as purely wicked, breaks his lips apart. Katsuki smiles down at you, now - big and broad, as is the normalcy for him. But no matter how many times he has graced you with that exact same beam, the flash of teeth is still as chill-inducing just as it was the first time.
His voice is a purr of a feline; a rasp that’s gone coarse from need, “Like what, pretty?”
Your brow furrows in annoyance at the way he taunts you now, exactly like he always does. His eyes are a dark carmine and they glimmer with carnal mischief through a gaze that’s hooded from sleepy lust as he curls the two thick digits that he still has nestled deep inside you.
He pushes them in right to the beaten-up knuckles in one obnoxiously laggard shove, forcing your sugary slick to trickle right into his broad palm in decent droplets that he can’t wait to lap up. The sharp gasp you voice in response is awfully indecent, but it might just be his favourite one to come from you, if he doesn’t count the pretty moans of his name and the way you laugh when you’re truly happy, of course.
Katsuki might not show it, but the tremendous need you exhibit for him, both in sexual and more tender aspects, makes his heart melt into a jelly-like substance underneath all the hard exterior he otherwise flaunts in front the eyes of the world and its pesky media.
But no matter how rough and tough he tries to represent himself as, the simple truth is there: he goes soft when he’s desired. Turns compassionate when depended upon. So much so, in fact, that it might be turning him into a, dare he say it, somewhat of a romantic after two years of steady dating with you - his wonderful, albeit sometimes annoyingly fussy, girlfriend.
“Kat, baby,” you huff in that exact fussy tone that makes his blood boil in all the right ways and brings him back to reality, “stop acting like an idiot and gimme what I want.”
“Tsch.” The way he clicks his tongue against his teeth in faux disapproval makes your chest tighten. He knows you want to get slammed on his cock. Knows it damn well, and yet he refuses to give it to you, because you're acting bratty and brats need to be taught a lesson. A stern one.
He’s smirking as he says, “And if I don’t?”
Your dainty fingers tremble as they wrap around his wrist when you try to shove his hand away in answer. However, no matter how tightly you try to squeeze your legs together to keep him at bay, Katsuki refuses to budge, forcing them right back apart until you're splayed before him like a meal he's eager to dig in.
It’s a losing battle you’re fighting, let's be honest. He’s much too strong for you to overtake physically, with all that rippling muscle and masculine vigour he's got going on, and much too stubborn to be persuaded into yielding with the equally as potent obstinacy that he had inherited from his mother.
Both his body and mind are made out of pure iron. He could break you with his bare hands, but piece you back together just as well. It’s a blessing and a curse; just another list of pros and cons that accompany dating a pro hero, you suppose.
Your train of thought is broken by a rush of heat that flows through your lower stomach when he applies more pressure to your hot insides and presses his thumb against your swollen clit. He rubs tight, little circles on it, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as fire begins to lick and nip at your skin.
Damn him. He's too good. There’ll be nothing but ash left of you if he keeps this up.
“Mm, I hate you s'much,” you grit out through clenched teeth, eyes blinking profusely in attempt to squeeze shut or roll into the back of your head, you don't know which one, “so, so much.”
“C’mon, baby,” Katsuki mutters, watching every twitch and wiggle your feverish body gives at his torturous touch, “don’t be rude like that.”
Your eyes shoot wide open in pure bewilderment before they narrow just as quickly as you try to glare at him. He’s chuckling at your pouty expression now; one corner of his lips quirking upwards at the way heat sears your face and makes you just too fucking cute to take seriously.
“Ex-Excuse me?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. What you’re enduring. “You’re the rude one!”
Your spine lifts from the couch in a perfect arch all of a sudden as he strokes that soft, gushy spot he’s a master at finding, making you mewl and cry out like a pathetic kitten underneath him. You’re writhing from how good he is at pressing all the right buttons. At how good he is at fucking you with his fingers.
“Me?” He hums like he’s seemingly deep in thought, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps to form over your thighs when it fans your skin as soon as he lowers his head between your legs again, “Rude?”
“Yeah… Fuck, Kat… You, mm… You really are an idiot.” Your voice breaks into something more primal and high-pitched when his mouth finds your pussy again.
He parts his lips gently as he sucks your clit into his mouth; warm, drool-coated tongue darting out in viciously delicious attacks of pure expertise. God help you, he's so good at this. Too good.
A low grunt leaves the back of his throat when he once again tastes how sweet you are, the tip of his nose pressing so harshly against your pelvis that it scrunches up against you until wrinkles etch the bridge of it.
He quickens his pace with those wonderfully rough fingers, calloused pads stroking your velvety walls and sending your heartbeat into overdrive. He looks so hot eating you out like that; cheeks tinted red and eyes of the same colour glazed from how good you taste as your heels keep digging into his broad, muscular back and your fingers insist on running through his damp ash blonde hair.
You’re going to burst. You’re going to fucking erupt into absolute euphoria and float far, far away, until he has to grab you by the goddamn ankles and drag you down from heaven.
If he even lets you reach heaven, that is.
You can literally feel an icy shiver of anticipation tumbling down your spine as he keeps pleasuring you, despite the fact that your skin is hot and covered in sweat. The salt to riddle you makes you stick to the fancy throw blanket that you insisted he buy to make his apartment feel more homey and that’s now twisting and crumpling underneath you.
You’re losing brain cells and the ability to speak coherently when his tongue plunges into your tight, sopping hole. Head tipping back into the cushion, you realize that he’s going to ruin you like this. That he's going to swallow you whole, until there’s nothing left of you but a pleasant memory he might or might not keep.
“Kat, I-I’m so close,” you whimper, hips bucking upward in apparent need, “so, so close, baby… Fuck, please. Please, don’t stop, god.”
But Katsuki does just that. He stops just when you’re ready to become undone. He leaves you clenching around nothing and your clit unattended just when you’re about to tip over the edge. Of course he does - the absolute fucker.
He’s smiling at you now, the beam more of a naughty smirk than anything else as he keeps kissing your poor pussy over and over again. The fact that you’re on the cusp of crying and that hot tears are visibly lining your waterline from how fucking frustrated you are is making his pants tighten to an unbearable degree.
God, he loves seeing you like this - yearning and dumb from raw emotion. All because of him. It makes his cock throb and he just knows it’s going to hurt when he at long last shoves it inside that cute cunt of yours. Knows that he’s going to make you cry for real when he makes you bounce on it; all hot and bothered.
But all in due time. He's way more patient than he used to be.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, each open-mouthed affection he places on you sending electricity coursing through your core, “I didn’t mean to stop, but I guess I’m an idiot just like you said, huh? Lemme make it up by trying again, yeah? I promise I'll do better. So fuckin' better.”
Some would understand his words and the way he offers you one toe-curling, languid swipe as an apology of sorts, but you know your alluringly rough-around-the-edges boyfriend better than that. Know that the shadows of iniquity to haunt his crimson eyes mean something entirely else.
They spell game over. Battle lost. After all, nobody calls him names and gets away with it. Not even you. Especially you.
Because he’s Katsuki Bakugou - forever the rude tease.
And he’s going to make you pay first before he makes you cum.
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CHAPTER V - paraprosexia
LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU
pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader
genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au
summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.
Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.
chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, , manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of God, mentions of feminism, spanking, kidnapping, drug use, alcohol, manhandling, mentions of murder, mentions of abuse, abduction
beta read by @chaoticpuff17
word count: 7K
disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.
m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III GAME OF GO CHAPTER IV CHAPTER VI
paraprosexia (n.) constant distraction
The rhythmic hum of the Cadillac’s engine created a soothing backdrop as the vehicle glided along the quiet road. The silence between them was thick, pregnant with unspoken words and emotions. Yoongi has decided that he isn't done peeling away the layers shrouding his fiancée’s thoughts, and for the last time, before they become each other’s for this lifetime and many others, he wishes to have a peek into her soul.
“We never concluded our earlier conversation,” his voice laced with a gentle yet probing tone. He wished to hear the truth before he could tell her his own. Yoongi was trying to stay focused on the road, as he decided to drive them himself, selfishly wanting another private moment with her before they part to get ready for the wedding and see each other at the temple’s altar.
She took a deep breath, her voice soft yet resolute. “What do you want to hear?” She asked him the same question she did to Namjoon, but she knew he would pry even more than his younger brother.
“What haunts you, my dear?” Y/N’s eyes met his for a brief moment, a mix of vulnerability and determination shining within them. He thought that perhaps if he could get her to confide in him, he would solve whatever obstacle is keeping her from trying to take him inside her heart.
Y/N looked down at her fingers “Namjoon asked me the same question, you know.” He hummed in agreement encouraging her to continue. If she hadn’t confessed to Namjoon, she might have to him. “I wanted my life to take a different route.” She did not lie, this was very truthful, but not the whole truth.
“A rather enigmatic statement, my dear” Y/N knew that, and she wished it could stay vague. “You were born with the knowledge that one day you’ll become someone’s wife and I find it hard to believe that you would be able to live a life out of the syndicate—”
She didn’t shy away, fully realising his words were truthful to some degree. Her gaze directed down at her intertwined fingers. “You presume right,” she admitted.
“—It’s maybe where your dreams take you, but I promise that even if you would be able to run away from all this, you would not survive.” The dim lighting inside the car played upon the contours of his face, highlighting the sharp angles and furrowed brows that spoke of the weight he carried upon his shoulders.
“Why would you think so?” She asked, curious what he has to say.
“Everyone knows who you are. You wouldn’t even blink and I would know exactly where you are—” he begun “—in the best scenario, of course, the worst would be the Yakuza clan, or any other syndicate got to you first—”
“You mean all your enemies?” she stumbled out of her.
“Yes?” He questioned.
“Is this what you’re scared of? My enemies?” He didn’t hesitate to ask. She kept her silence for a moment. “You’re safer with me than alone, at least remember that.”
“—it’s not. If you would want me on the brink of death I would be already there.” Y/N cut him off. Part of her is relieved that she did not end up being married off to the Yakuza that is well known for their strict and beastly behaviour against women. The other part of her is in constant fear.
“What is it then?” He asked softly. Yoongi wanted her to know that she could talk to him freely, without judgment. He longs to be one with her, body, and soul, desperately trying to make her confined in him as his lover.
“It’s—” It was hard for Y/N to open up to him, she feels vulnerable, “—the uncertainty, the feeling that I’m being swept away by a current I have no control over.” Y/N’s gaze wandered outside the window, the passing scenery a blur of shadows and fleeting glimpses of moonlit snow-covered fields. Looking at him at this second would be too much to bear for her.
“During college, I just got used to being autonomous,” she continued. Yoongi carefully listened to her confession while he was gripping the wheel and focusing on the road.
“But you knew that you were still bound by duty and loyalty.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She knew very well what awaited her after her studies, yet still hoped that it would turn out differently.
“I did, but I didn’t want to lose that kind of life either,” she said softly. Autonomy has a huge role in one’s life. Y/N got a taste of what it is to live a normal life, away from bloodshed, clan wars, torture and the endless screams that echoed through the mansions; negotiations and forced marriages. All that she wished to not associate with.
As the car continued to roll through the night their conversation was not near its end. “I’m just not ready to be someone’s wife nor mother, and not on the head council of the clan,” she exclaimed. Yoongi sighed, pulling to stop at the side of the road, letting the engine still roar. He wanted to look into her beautiful eyes.
The scarred leader turned to her petite form sitting in the passenger seat. “You won’t believe me now, but I do understand where this comes from—” he reached out, his hand gently touching hers, providing a comforting reassurance “—you’re young, and this feeling will pass away, all the doubts too, just let me show you what a good life I can give you,” their eyes locked.
“The path we are destined to tread can lead to unexpected joys and fulfilment. I promise you’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.” He stressed out.
“It’s all so easy for you to say, you lived, and I had three years. I wanted to see more of what life could be. I wanted to see the world—”
“I can give you the world, princess,” he said.
“As long as I stay,” she said, her voice shaking. Yoongi slowly nodded in agreement, caressing her cheek. “Let me love you Y/N—”
“Everything alright, Kkangpae?” Said a subdued voice outside the vehicle. Yoongi opened the door slightly, replying with a simple ‘We needed a moment’. And with that, he gets back on the road, getting closer and closer to her biggest fear.
The clock’s hands had long passed the threshold of midnight when they arrived in front of the imposing hotel. Accepting his hand as she stepped out of the car, her gaze swept over the swarm of men and women moving feverishly around the temple’s grounds, getting everything ready for the grand wedding.
“By morning, everything will be in place, Kkangpae,” a voice broke through the haze of her thoughts. She turned her attention to her cousin, Kai, whom she hadn’t seen for some time, giving Y/N a light smile before continuing talking to Yoongi.
Walking by Yoongi’s side with a demeanour as composed as a statue, Y/N seemed to be a mere spectator in the bustling landscape of preparations. She could feel his burning touch on the small of her back.
“Unnie!!” She recognised the voice like it was yesterday she heard it. She opened her arms, a welcoming embrace for the younger sister she hadn’t seen in too long. Their bond was immediate, and Y/N clung to Xiaoli, a mix of protectiveness and adoration welling within her, caressing her hair, smiling while doing so. She missed her little sister dearly. It was just a few months, and Y/N could already sense how much she changed. Wang Xiaoli was the most beautiful girl Y/N had ever seen in her life. Freshly turning eighteen, she could see the newfound aura of femininity.
“Why are you still awake, pumpkin?” Y/N’s voice was infused with a comforting warmth. The endearment was as familiar to them as the air they breathed. Y/N could not help but always baby her little sister whenever she had the chance.
“I was having a conversation with Taehyung-oppa.” She smiled at her sweetly. Xiaoli’s response was tinged with a hint of excitement, a radiance in her eyes that had been absent before. Breaking into Korean instead of their native Chinese. Y/N’s own transition to speaking in Korean had been a necessary evolution, therefore Y/N did not realise that her sister is not speaking their native tongue right away. She did not expect Xiaoli to be comfortable conversing in Korean, not speaking of the hanbok that was hiding her figure. But with the name of one of the seven, she understood why her sister voluntarily spoke to her in the tongue of her captor.
“Did you?” She glanced at Yoongi who still stood next to her, talking to Kai.
“Oh my God, I apologise!” Xiaoli’s exclamation sliced through the air, her sudden realization causing her to pivot toward Yoongi.
“Good late night, Kkangpae Min,” the words flowed from her sister’s lips, accompanied by a respectful bow. Y/N’s attention remained on the scene unfolding before her. Watching Yoongi extend his hand, which she took into her small ones, bowing her head once more. Yoongi enjoyed being at the top of the world. And he knew he would go even higher tomorrow night.
“Miss Wang, how are you this late evening?” he asked politely.
“Very well, Kkangpae Min. I can be with my sister again. I’m very happy.” Xiaoli couldn’t stop smiling. There was a big difference between Xiaoli and Y/N — Xiaoli’s acceptance and Y/N’s defiance. Xiaoli never dreamt of leaving the syndicate. She was very eager to get married, have kids, and be a wife.
Y/N wanted to marry one day. But she longed to have the freedom to decide when, where and whom she would marry. And apart from Y/N, Xiaoli forgave more easily than Y/N. It was in her nature that Y/N wanted to protect.
She wanted her sister to be happy with whatever life she chose to live. If she wanted a life like her, she would do anything to help her do so. But Xiaoli never understood Y/N’s desire for freedom. Y/N understood that Xiaoli never got the taste of it in the first place. Her sister graciously accepted her faith as a mafia wife while Y/N felt oppressed to do so.
However, there was something off about her. Y/N had a third sense that something isn’t as it should be.
“Do you think I could speak to my sister privately, Kkangpae Min?” Xiaoli asked suddenly.
“Don’t be long. Y/N needs to sleep well tonight.” As if she would be able to fall asleep altogether.
“Thank you, Kkangpae Min.” She bowed down again, Xiaoli’s grasp on her hand was firm, tugging her toward the sunroom where memories lingered.
“Y/N?” They stopped for a moment, hearing Yoongi’s voice. She reluctantly turned herself back to him, awaiting his next words.
“Yes?” She said softly, scared that he would change his mind and wouldn’t let them have a sisterly talk after so long.
“Come to my office before you go to sleep, baby.” He replied with a low tone. It seemed to her that he still wanted to talk to her about something. Y/N nodded before her sister continued walking away.
“Yamamoto’s are apparently still furious,” her sister’s words hung in the air like a chilling wind, carrying with them a sense of impending doom. After the door to the sunroom that was now illuminated by moonlight instead, closed, Xiaoli spoke freely. Y/N had expected nothing less from the Yamamoto clan; Yoongi’s bold move had stirred a hornet’s nest, and he showed no remorse for his actions.
“Furious enough to ask for compensation.” Xiaoli continued. Y/N’s eyes widened, dread seeping into her veins like a slow poison.
“Compensation?” Her voice was a mere whisper.
“I believe you understand exactly what I mean,” Xiaoli’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. Being married off to a Yakuza is worse than death for women in this world. Out of all scenarios that ran through Y/N’s mind when she was deciding whether to run or not, she indeed did not foresee this one.
“I won’t let Father do that to you, Xiaoli.” Y/N could feel the anger bubbling in her. Y/N’s heart burned with anger and guilt; her rebellion against the clan’s traditions had not only endangered her own fate but cast a shadow over her sister’s future. They are desperately trying to plot their victory which became obscure after she got engaged to the Min clan’s leader. She had been defiant for her own sake, for her freedom, and in doing so, she had unwittingly put her sister’s happiness on the line.
Tears shimmered in Xiaoli’s eyes as she clung to her sister, seeking solace in her embrace. “I love him Y/N.”
She was clutching her older sister’s dress tightly. Y/N needed to think, she needed to find a solution. Little did she know, her sister knew very well how to back out of this ordeal, and she was ready to do it willingly.
“Love who, honey?” Y/N’s voice caught in her throat, her heart a mix of fear and understanding. She knew the path that her sister was treading, the dangerous game she was playing.
“Taehyung-oppa.” Y/N was afraid of that. She did not know Kim Taehyung that well, only from Yoongi’s talking about this very important man.
“Does he intend to marry you?” The words were heavy with implication. A timid nod was Xiaoli’s response, her eyes fixed on Y/N’s face, as if seeking approval or absolution.
“He plans to. But we need Father’s and Kkangpae Min’s blessing,” Xiaoli’s words were a tremulous confession, a secret laid bare in the moonlit room. ‘Make it happen’. Y/N kept her thoughts mingled in her head for some quiet moments.
“Sister, please,” Xiaoli begged Y/N. Xiaoli was head over heels for the older male. Taehyung was so charming, and she was too young to understand why he took interest in her in the first place.
“Kkangpae Min is in love with you.” Xiaoli’s words struck Y/N with an intensity that left her breathless “He won’t deny you.” Xiaoli’s voice held a conviction that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. She doesn’t know. She doesn’t realise the true nature of his affection.
She understands why she’s reaching to her before she would to her father, mother or Yoongi himself. Once she would be rejected there would be no making it better. There are no second negotiations in criminal syndicates. Her sister knew the intricate dynamics of the Min clan, and understood the power that Y/N held over their leader.
A maelstrom of emotions churned within Y/N – anger, longing, defiance, and a twinge of something else, something she dared not name.
“He was very angry with me only recently Xiaoli.” Y/N decided not to hurt her sister’s feelings by revealing that their love is probably only a little dot in a bigger scheme. Xiaoli furrowed her brows suddenly.
“Are you still going by your stubborn feminist ideals, Y/N?” She raised her voice, surprising her older sister as she needed to take a step back.
“Xiaoli.” Y/N warned her, trying to keep calm.
“No Y/N! You’re being reckless, and I even have to say that.” Y/N could not believe her words.
“Is this your opinion or Taehyung-oppa’s, hm?” She crossed her arms awaiting the younger female’s answer.
“Everyone’s Y/N. You don’t even realise how lucky you got when leader Min took you in—”
“Took me in?! He let Chan-yeol drug me and betray me to get his way.”
“Least you ain’t marrying that murderer anymore.” That argument was ultimate for Y/N. She could not disagree with that. One girl already died under his hands, and Y/N was almost second in a row if she would marry him.
“See? You cannot deny that. He saved you from him. You’re free, because of leader Min. The least you can do is to be a little grateful.” Her sister spat out.
“That man brainwashed you; this isn’t you.” Said Y/N.
“No Y/N. I just accepted his love and reciprocated it. You should finally receive what God has given to you before someone will die.”
“No one will die, Xiaoli.” Y/N’s voice was full of vulnerability.
“I love you, sister. I do. I just wish you would see this as a blessing. You’re marrying someone who loves you.” There was not a night Y/N would not think of this possibility. She could not decide whether this was a blessing or her worst nightmare. But it still pinched her heart that even her sister didn’t see why she kept trying to find her way out.
“But as I know you. Someone will have to die for you to know your place.” The contrast of her sister’s demeanour now and a minute ago was setting Y/N off.
And this was Y/N’s biggest fear. Her mind was a battleground of conflicting thoughts, torn between loyalty to protect those who could not protect themselves and the desire to be free from the chains of forced marriage.
Xiaoli’s plea to consider the proposal from Kim Taehyung, someone who supposedly loved her younger sister, left Y/N feeling both grateful and resentful. From one perspective her sister would live hopefully happily, safely and near Y/N. They would not have to part their ways yet again.
From the other perspective, Y/N would possibly give in to Yoongi’s manipulative tactics as she refused to believe he didn’t possess a piece of knowledge about this. Deliberately not telling her. Y/N paced back and forth, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.
“Y/N…I apologise, I—” Xiaoli spoke after she sensed her sister was in distress.
“I want to make decisions myself, Xiaoli,” Y/N’s admission was a whisper, a confession that she had shared with no one else “—I want to have a say in how my life will turn out—” Something she was afraid to tell Yoongi or Namjoon.
“I wanted to have a choice.” She cried out. Xiaoli slowly approached her again.
“All you have to do is give in Y/N. Everything will be fine,” she cooed at Y/N.
“Why didn’t you write to me Xiaoli,” a sudden thought came to Y/N’s mind.
“Taehyung-oppa and leader Min thought it would be better as you needed to adjust.” Y/N could not help but desperately laugh at her words.
“You adjusted rather quickly.” Y/N scoffed, eyeing her physique clothed in pink flowery hanbok.
“Because I knew that this way, I could stay near you.” Y/N breathed in and out, trying to think clearly.
A sigh escaped her lips, a heavy exhale “If your love is genuine, if this is truly what you desire,” her voice wavered, uncertainty lacing her words, “then I’ll do everything in my power to make it happen.” Y/N was willing to push her desires and longing for freedom if it meant that her sister would be happy and safe. However, Y/N knows she won’t have to persuade Yoongi. It’s her father’s approval that will be hard to obtain.
Her sister’s embrace tightened, a silent gratitude passing between them as tears mingled in the moonlit room. “But I want to know everything I missed, pumpkin.”
The two sisters spent the next hour catching up on all the moments they had missed in each other’s lives until it was time to say good night.
Y/N’s heart was heavy with emotions as she replayed the conversations she had with Xiaoli in her mind. She also recalled her deal with Namjoon back in the sanctuary. She had only recently bid her sister goodnight, yet the prospect of facing the scarred leader again loomed before her like an impending storm. The older sister longed to collect her thoughts a bit more before she had to face him again. For the last time before Y/N will become his wife, in the name of God.
Y/N made her way through the dimly lit halls of the luxurious railway hotel, straight back to him. Her steps were measured, each footfall echoing in the hushed ambiance of the hallways. She could hear soft notes of a classical composition she for sure heard before but couldn’t name. The calming cracking of the wood in the fireplace got louder and louder while she was quietly approaching the man sitting with his glass of hard liquor in a low armchair, manspreading — some parts of his three-piece suit scattered on his desk chair. His gaze remained fixed upon the fire’s dance, the play of shadows flickering across his face.
She could see his exhaustion, yet he was waiting alongside another glass of liquor that was placed on top of the fireplace, where he left it for her. Her approach did not go unnoticed. His gaze, deep and intense, met hers as she drew closer. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions as she saw the tenderness in his gaze. There was a softness to his features, a vulnerability that he rarely showed to others.
As she accepted the glass of liquor he had prepared, Y/N lowered herself into a chair opposite him. The air between them seemed charged with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
“You knew?” She asked finally, tears welling up in her eyes yet again. His presence only made her feel everything at once. His calm demeanour contrasted starkly with the tempest that brewed within her.
“I did,” his expression was calm and attentive.
“Why keep it a secret?” She said more as a statement than a question.
His gaze did not waver, his response forthcoming. “I wanted you to focus on us, sweetling,” his voice was both tender and unapologetic. Y/N’s lips parted, the words of reproach she had prepared faltering on her tongue.
“You want me to be a Buin, yet you won’t even ask for my blessing. It’s my little sister Yoongi.”
“And that my love, is why I’m letting you decide this. Will that union be beneficial to us, Buin?”
“I’m too biased to think of your clan matters, Kkangpae.” She clapped back at him, speaking honestly.
“And by only looking at you, it was decided way before I got to know.”
The young man was looking at his future spouse in amusement. “Actually, I planned to arrange a marriage between her and Namjoon, but Taehyung swept her away it seems.” Her eyes snapped back at him. The threat that her sister would be married off to Namjoon was loud and clear even before. Namjoon was a decent man for proposing a deal to her, but Y/N wouldn’t stop being careful around that man, nonetheless let Yoongi give him Xiaoli.
“Therefore, I think the cards tossed themselves without me touching them, but still, this will be your call.” Y/N was eyeing him with suspicion. He never put any deciding matter in her hands before, nor did he share that much from clan matters, even when he suggested she could be involved as much as she wished.
“I want your word that he is a good man.” She said finally. With her glass in hand, she sipped the fiery liquid, scrunching her face at the taste. “Promise me, Yoongi,” her voice trembled, the plea she had held within her finding its voice. “Promise me that he’s a good man, that she’ll be safe with him.”
“Of course, he is. She’ll be better off with him. I promise.” He answered. A softness lingered in his gaze, a tenderness that bore the weight of unspoken promises.
“Father will be pissed.” She said to him, expecting any reaction. Y/N’s grip on the glass tightened, the cold surface pressing into her palm.
A wry smile tugged at his lips, a fleeting acknowledgment of the complexities that had marred their familial relationships.
“We have weathered such storms before, my dear.”
“Something tells me, this isn’t why you wanted me to come.” Said she, with determination in her tone.
A sigh escaped him, the weight of his responsibilities etched into his features. His hands raked through his dark hair; a gesture borne of frustration. “Can’t I just simply long for spending time with you, my dear?” his voice is gentle and inviting.
“It’s more than that,” she pressed, a knowing glint in her eyes.
“You constantly keep disobeying me, love.” He said a bit more harshly than he wanted. Y/N frowned slightly. She knew he was right; she had been defying his orders and going against his wishes, seeking an escape route whenever she could.
“How did you manage to sway them all? My mother, my sister, even Kai.” She asked suddenly, her voice held a venomous edge. A chuckle escaped him, laden with both amusement and resignation. Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed.
“Maybe because they know this is God’s will, and it was meant to be.” He straightened himself in the chair, fighting his own fight with his frustrated mind. The young leader thanked and prayed to God every night for granting him her as a life companion. He, however, knew that she needed to be tamed.
Frustration bubbled within her, an anger and sorrow that had remained carefully concealed. The next words just happened to be forbidding the unforgivable.
“To hell with you and your God,” the words escaped her lips in a defiant hiss, a proclamation that cut through the air like a blade. And this was the last straw for Yoongi. The brave antique she illuminated just a second ago changed once she found herself being handled with a punishing grip on one of her arms. A swift, unrelenting grip it was. He seized her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh.
“Let me go!” She screamed and desperately tried to twirl out of his hold. Panic surged within her; her struggles met with a strength that left her powerless.
“Enough of this insolence,” he hissed, his grip unyielding. Y/N’s world tilted as he pressed her down upon his desk, her body held captive beneath the weight of his resolve.
“You want to be a brat? You want to disobey me and the lord? —” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve indulged your defiance for far too long,” he muttered, his voice a mixture of anger and resignation. The room seemed to close in around her.
“I’m done with this behaviour, and you’re done too, my love.” He spat out right next to her ear. Only cries and whimpers come out of her. She was immobilized, her world reduced to the commanding force that held her captive. Y/N heard the rustle of his belt, and she awaited the worst. The air seemed to thicken with tension, each moment stretching into an eternity.
“Yoongi…please, I’ll be good. I’m sorry.” She pleaded, crying her heart out, her pleas an offering of surrender. The scarred leader tied her hands with the belt, and she felt a bit of relief he wouldn’t use the belt on her.
“You will learn your place, my love,” his words were a declaration, a promise that hung heavy in her soul.
“I was too good to you—” said he, caressing her delicate heart-shaped bottom.
“Let me hear some gratitude, darling, thank your Kkangpae for his hospitality.” Said he before he landed the first slap on her butt cheeks.
She was squirming on the wooden chair in the main dining hall, trying to find a more comfortable position to sit. A vain attempt to find solace for her aching body. The sting of Yoongi’s preaching present. Her once-delicate bottom now bore the imprint of his reprimand. Regret gnawed at her; a bitter pill she had been compelled to swallow. She was not sure what part of that sentence angered him more. That she cursed at him or his almighty. Perhaps, she mused, it was the amalgamation of both that had pushed him to the edge.
That won’t ease the pain she feels now. Thoughts circled her mind with Xiaoli and Taehyung’s chatter in the background. He joined her family at breakfast before she was to prepare for the afternoon ceremony.
There was an undeniable magnetism between Taehyung and her younger sister. Y/N spotted how soft and endearing Taehyung was with her sister and there was no doubt that he indeed took an interest in the younger female. It was their mother who looked more anxious now.
“Is everything fine, Ma?” Xiaoli asked, eating her soft-boiled egg that had been served just a minute ago. Very western. But nobody was surprised as this hotel attracted noble people from every corner of the world. The surroundings and necessities were adjusted to be more international.
“Oh yes my dear, I’m just worried your father will be in distress again.” The older female said, sipping on her tea instead of elaborating more. Y/N knew very well that by distress she meant anger. The Min clan was messing with all his plans and that made him a ticking bomb.
“And you Y/N?” Her sister turned his eyesight at her. Y/N offered a soft smile and a nod – a half-truth. She could not bring herself to tell her the truth when she knew her loyalty belonged more to her husband-to-be and not to her anymore.
“Did you sleep well, my child?” Her mother asked with a prying tone. It almost felt like she knew what happened.
“Like a baby.” Her response veiled in ironic sarcasm. Y/N slept, the few hours she was granted, most of the time on her belly. It was her last night sleeping alone as Yoongi graciously reminded her before he tucked her in the sheets, biding her sweet dreams before he finally left her.
She wondered whether he was in his office as she hadn’t seen him yet this morning. And she was grateful for that. She had yearned for more time – time to think, to grapple with the complexities of her new reality. But her desires were a luxury she could ill afford.
“Very well, ladies. I shall see you later today, I still have some work to do.” Taehyung announced, getting up from his chair. Y/N watched how her sister pouted that he had to leave and smiled once he kissed her forehead, giving her goodbye. A shadow of melancholy that crept into her heart.
She wished her life would turn out differently, somewhere overseas, with someone she would love dearly and the sight of her sister’s happiness, pinched a bit of sadness in her heart. Y/N was happy that her sister had the chance to fall in love and she still hoped that it was in the stars for her too.
“Everyone knows.” Said Xiaoli suddenly when Taehyung was too far away to hear. Xiaoli’s words bore a weight of knowledge, a revelation that pulled Y/N from her introspection.
“Know what?” Y/N’s query was tinged with confusion, her sister’s words veiled in mystery.
“Everyone knows that Kkangpae disciplined you last night.” Xiaoli’s revelation sliced through the air, a truth that echoed like a damning verdict, unwelcome yet acknowledged.
“What did you do, child?” said her mother, putting her cup down, expecting an answer.
“I cursed at him and God, Ma.” Y/N’s voice was hushed, almost sheepish in its admission. Rightfully, her mother gasped, placing her hands at her mouth, successfully attracting attention to their table.
“Did you at least apologise?” Xiaoli asked, not surprised why the leader decided to lecture her sister that way.
“I did.” Said Y/N a bit sturdier, gulping down the rest of her jasmine tea.
“You’re lucky,” Xiaoli’s voice was tinged with a mix of sympathy and pragmatism. “Taehyung-oppa said that Kkangpae Min doesn’t take kindly when someone challenges the divine.” Y/N stopped listening once she said ‘Kkangpae’. She wanted to forget about him, just for a single moment.
“Y/N—” her mother began, her voice a delicate entreaty “—I understand that this is hard to take in, but don’t disown your beliefs because you don’t agree with the lord’s plan for you. Accept it and move on.” She knew her mother meant well. After all, she wanted all her children to be happy. Y/N gazed over at yet again the silent little boy who was sitting next to her the whole time.
“I know, Ma.” She sighed. Y/N smiled softly at her younger brother who was playing with his breakfast. His small frame bore the mark of his premature birth. She remembers her mother’s cries that echoed in the house that night. Father was so happy to have a son to care about that the mother of all his children almost died.
Her thoughts meandered to the countless women she had seen succumb to childbirth; their lives stolen by the very act that should have brought forth life. Enough for her to push the ideology of having children unless she is completely ready. Therefore, she did not hesitate to supply her body with herbs that had contraceptive effects, nor she did not forget to mark down her ovulation every time after her monthly bleeding. Y/N knew very well that it wouldn’t fly with Yoongi if she managed to somehow use the diaphragm, nor she did not expect him to support the newfound usage of condoms.
Any contraceptive method was banned and taboo in every syndicate clan. Y/N knew she had to perform her duties as a leader’s wife, but if nature can help her to prevent certain aspects of their marriage, she will keep fighting this way.
She knew that her choices would not be met with approval, least of all by Yoongi. Y/N’s resolve to wield these methods was both an assertion of her agency and a form of silent rebellion.
The seconds refused to align with her favour. Seated before a vanity mirror, her porcelain features were delicately adorned with touches of makeup and her hair arranged with golden dragonfly pins with pearls hanging from them. Her mother’s careful hands combed through her hair just minutes ago, an act woven with generations of tradition.
“I think I need to breathe some air, ma.” Y/N’s voice was a soft exhale. The older woman paused in her actions, her reflection in the mirror meeting her daughter’s gaze. She saw the mixture of emotions in Y/N’s eyes, and her heart ached for the turmoil her child was going through. Wrapping her arms around Y/N, her mother embraced her, a comforting cocoon against the tempest outside. It wasn’t just a mother holding her daughter; it was a transfer of strength, a promise of unwavering support.
“You’re going to be alright, Y/N,” her mother’s whisper was a soothing lullaby to the young woman’s anxieties. “You’ll always pull through, no matter what.”
With her eyes closed, she leans into her mother’s embrace. The scent of her mother’s familiar perfume enveloped her, grounding her in the present while still connecting her to the past. She felt the love and understanding that flowed between them, the unspoken bond that only a mother and daughter could share.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N nodded. She turned and walked towards the door, sliding it open and walking down the corridor, aiming for the hotel’s backyard.
As the muffled sounds of the bustling wedding preparations reverberated around her, Y/N passed the office, an unspoken knowledge suggesting the presence of the mastermind behind the occasion – the man she was meant to stand beside. She couldn’t see him before the wedding ceremony, for which she was quite relieved. It gave her time to prepare herself to face him again.
The coat draped over her shoulders provided a semblance of warmth, though the chill in the air seemed to seep into her very bones.
“Y/N?” The voice was a jarring intrusion, a reminder of the entanglements she couldn’t escape.
“Kai?” Her response mirrored his tone, a mixture of guarded curiosity and exasperation.
“Where are you going?” His question hung in the air.
“To get some air,” she replied, her words etched with an undercurrent of defiance. “Why do you care?”
“You’re supposed to be getting ready for the wedding,” his words were a stark reminder of the expectations that bore down on her. Of course, he was brainwashed by his new leader too.
“We never got the chance to talk, Kai,” her voice carried an edge, an unresolved tension underscoring her words, looking over the snowy garden.
“About?” His inquiry followed her like a shadow.
“About you aiding my escape from China and then delivering me into the hands of the enemy,” her words, though uttered calmly, carried the weight of her resentment. She was feeling petty after all.
“That’s done and dusted, Y/N. Regardless, he would have come for you,” Kai’s response was clinical, devoid of remorse.
“What was auntie’s grand plan?” she deflected the subject, a sore point that neither of them could escape.
“Didn’t you read her letter? She explained,” Kai’s words alluded to a topic that was fraught with emotion.
“Yoongi hasn’t given it to me yet.”
“If you would be behaving yourself, you would already know everything you need, Y/N.”
“Ah yes. Everybody seems to have a sudden surge of loyalty to my husband-to-be,” her tone was laced with bitter irony.
“He’s the better leader,” Kai’s response was swift.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Y/N. If only you’d finally submit, you would see that too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when you were helping me escape?” She ignored his words, stepping outside, a rush of fresh air greeting her.
“Because I know your stubbornness is your biggest weakness, Y/N. You wouldn’t have listened nor go willingly.”
“No, I wouldn’t have. But at least I would’ve had the freedom to choose which all of you graciously took from me.”
“You’d rather be the wife of that imbecile?” His words held a venomous edge.
“No Kai—”
“Then be fucking grateful for once,” a sentiment she had heard all too often.
“Is everything alright down here?” A new presence interrupted their tense exchange.
“As it should be Chan-yeol-hyung.” Kai’s response dripped with a veiled hostility.
“Y/N?” Chan-yeol’s voice sought her, his demeanour slightly more composed.
“Why don’t you mind your business, Chan-yeol?” Kai’s frustration was palpable.
“I’m just checking on Buin, brother-in-law,” Chan-yeol’s attempt at levity did little to alleviate the tension. Y/N did not understand what happened between these two males. But she was not willing to listen to their bickering.
“You both need to calm down,” Y/N’s voice cut through the fray, an appeal for some semblance of peace.
“Whatever,” Kai’s final word hung in the air as he stormed away, leaving Y/N to face the biting cold on her own.
“He needs to reset his mind.” Chan-yeol’s words were a bridge to a conversation she wasn’t sure she wanted.
“That’s quite ironic coming from you,” her retort was quick, her scepticism evident.
“I’ve reset my mind, Y/N,” his voice held a hint of resignation, his lips falling into thin lines.
“Have you now?”
“Yes. I almost regret having to do it again.”
“What do you mean-” Y/N did not manage to ask him as he pressed a white cloth against her mouth, her head immobilized by his firm grip.
“You wanted to have a choice? Here it is.” She heard very few words before her eyes shut down.
I N T E R L O G U E
The smaller woman was running down the corridor. The sight she had beheld just moments ago had etched itself in her mind – her sister, her flesh and blood, being mercilessly torn away. She stumbled down the passage, her frantic steps echoing like the drumbeats of impending doom. Her heart was furiously beating, and her head started to spin when she realised the weight of this situation, breathing shallow.
“Taehyung-oppa!” Her voice, laced with desperation and fear, pierced the air like a knife. Tears blurred her vision, turning the world into a watery haze. Her trembling hands found the wooden door, and with an almost violent push, she thrust it open, her heartache and panic leaving no room for politeness or formality.
In the room, seven pairs of eyes, all shades of intensity and authority, snapped to attention at the intrusion, landing on her distressed form. Taehyung, positioned by the fireplace, lowered the crystal glass he had been nursing, his gaze zeroing in on her. His sharp eyes swept over her, taking in her dishevelled appearance, her tear-stained cheeks.
“Why are you crying, what happened, love?” Taehyung’s voice, soft yet commanding. Of course, she interrupted an important meeting, but none of the big seven could withstand their women crying without knowing the cause and therefore the urgency of the meeting was momentarily forgotten; when a woman wept, the world paused.
“Oppa—” Her voice quivered, a sob escaping her lips as her gaze flitted around the room, acutely aware of the attention fixed upon her.
“It’s okay, speak, girl.” The words, uncharacteristically gentle from the Kkangpae, coaxed her and pushed her to sing.
“He took her.” Her words, almost lost in her sobs, hung in the air, a chilling revelation that sent shockwaves through the room. The Kkangpae stiffened in his seat, starting to see red.
“Took who.” He worked out, even though he already knew. His voice, a rumbling undercurrent of controlled anger, demanded answers he already suspected.
“Y/N.” A loud bang echoed through the room, an ear-piercing sound of broken glass followed.
“Who took her, Xiaoli-beloved?” Taehyung approached her, grabbing her hands into his.
“I didn’t see, his back was facing me, oppa, but he looked like Chan-yeol.” She cast her gaze to the formidable figure at the head of the room, the Kkangpae, the leader, her sister’s lover.
“Namjoon, greet Yamamoto’s with Jimin-ah, —” the Kkangpae’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his orders delivered with a chilling finality.
“Hoseok, Jungkook,” his words were a decree, swift and unyielding “I want Chan-yeol alive, anyone else involved, dead.” The two men immediately rose from their seats, their purpose clear.
“Bring her back, even if it requires force,” the Kkangpae’s voice, a mixture of desperation and determination, reverberated in the room just like the song of the sorrow, the dead, echoed in their lives yet again.
to be continued
©pennyellee. please do not repost
author’s note: so here we are at chapter V!! ♥ Thank you all so much for for sticking around chummers ♥ for some reason this chapter got longer than I wanted it to be, I actually planned that chapter VI will be longest so far; to bring good news, I'm almost finished, however, this next monday i'm returning to UNI and above that I'm going to work too, therefore I cannot say when will the next chapter be out, but I promise I'll try my best ♥ If not full chapters I'll try to deliver some drabbles/fillers to you chummers ♥
!IMPORTANT!
I'm trying to always make sure that you're tagged right in the taglist, however, there are still accounts that for some reason cannot be tagged, I have no clue why is this happening but I'm trying to figure out a way where everyone who wanted to be notified about Lacrimosa updates will be notified. If you have any tips or advice in this matter, my dm's, asks, replies, reblogs are open for you all ♥
shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!
Love you!!!!
Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥
keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.
let's be friends chummers ♥
lots of love,
𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊
taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17- @honsoolgloss- @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27- @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822- @whofan88 - @haneyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss @secfir - @btspurplesky @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin @selenophileforlife
#bts#bts fic#yandere yoongi#yandere bts#yandere namjoon#soft yandere#mafia au#yandere seokjin#seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#bts fanfic#hard yandere#yandere#yandere kpop#yandere taehyung#mafia bts#lacrimosa#myg angst#dark!yoongi#min yoongi x y/n#bts x you#yoongi smut#haegeum#suga x you#suga x y/n#suga x reader#historical au#bts historical au#bts yandere au#fic:lacrimosa
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The Colors of the Rainbow
Timothée asks y/n what color he reminds her of, and she puts a lot more effort into an answer than he could ever imagine.
Warnings and such: it's. so. fluffy. also like one swear word? illusions to "adult situations" but nothing bad! not proofread!
A/N : i'm backkkk!! not gonna lie, i didn't expect to be gone nearly a month, but life sucks lately and it just kinda happened...im sorry!!! thanks for the continued love and support! also- i get my cast off in like 10 days! yay!
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"what color do you associate me with?"
His voice drew my attention away from the book in hand, the first words spoken aloud in hours. it was thought provoking; a color?
"what do you mean?"
"when you hear my name, what color do you think of?"
I had never thought of that before, but now seemed a good a time as any. I allowed my eyes to wonder over him as I thought about the best answer.
Red: bold and beautiful. a bright color, attention grabbing and hard to look away from. the color of our bedroom lights after too many nights spent apart. the color of his eyes after he smokes too much and giggles on the couch. The color of our lips when we finally pull away, gasping quietly for breath. Red. The metaphor of blood shed that went into making us, and making us work. red, bold and beautiful.
Orange: autumn. obviously. the color of pumpkins, of crazy sunsets and sunrises, worthy of photographs we'll never look at again but in the moment, it's important. the color of comfort, warmth and a cool breeze. orange, deep like fire, the burning desire for him, for me, for each other. the color that paints my insides when i look at him and remember that he is mine.
Yellow: not the neon yellow, but the soft yellow. the yellows the paint the sky for a brief moment in the early hours of the day, when the world is waking up again and the day is starting. the color that floods our bedroom and allows dust to dance in the air around us. the last color we see as we fall asleep together. the color night owls are always chasing. for him, it's the color he radiates when he walks into the room, bright and happy, a glow that follows him and intoxicates everyone in his path.
Green: earthy and holy. natural beauty, like the nature we crave amidst the bustle of the new york city. not a color i see him on often, but the color of his eyes. the color i get lost in when he talks, drunk on the sound of his voice. the color behind his entire world. it's calming and comforting. it's him. a color i would happily see every day for the rest of my life. a color i plan to see for eternity.
Blue: the color of water and cleanliness. he loves his showers, his pools, and the rare trips on boat rides for secret swimming holes. a water bug through and through. the color for which he starts every morning, a fresh start. the color of winter, cool and quiet. for nights spent close together under heavy blankets, skin on skin. the color that accompanies him to premieres and interviews, a color that demands attention in the softest tone.
Purple: both the softest and deepest versions. a child-like representation of each, a playful color. a color which adorns his body on quiet days spent shopping, or nights gallivanting around for basketball games and bars with his friends. a color i often associate with nights home without him, the undeniable fact that he'll stumble through the front door in the early hours of the morning, the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath as he tells me he loves me.
White: innocent, clean, wholesome. a stereotypical color, but there's truth to it. sure, he's not pure in the sense of what the color stands for traditionally (can you blame a girl?) except he is. through all of life's changes, the good, the bad, and everything in between, he's stayed true to who he is. he's happy, ready for life's adventures. he wants to be the person his generation can look up to, someone who defies the odds and makes a name for himself on his own. he doesn't need, or want, poor publicity or the lingering story of being a hollywood fuckup. he won't be- he can't be.
Pink: a color typically labeled for feminism, but golly doesn't he look beautiful in pink! it's bold and impossible to look away from. the lightest shades for the purest and most innocent, the darkest shades for the most demanding and defiant. why not break stereotypes?! the clothes make the man, so they say...but for him? no. he makes the clothes. he's what pulls the outfit together, the one who makes the color beautiful. beautiful, like the color that paints his cheeks when his heart flutters in his chest.
Gray: a color for balance. there's never light without the dark. with good days, comes bad. we get tired, sick and worn down but it reminds us we are human. a color reserved for coffee runs on lazy sundays, after sleeping away the stress of the previous week and preparing ourselves for the next. a comforting color, one that reminds us we are allowed to be sad, but the feeling will pass and the sun will shine again. be patient, good things take time.
***
"Black." I settled on the answer with a smile.
"Black?!"
"Yes!"
"Why?! That's the most basic color!" He chuckled softly, nudging me with his foot.
"No, it's the most important color."
"Important?"
"Well, it's a perfect combination of all the colors, and all their qualities. You've got the best of them all, love."
"How so?" There was no hiding the color pink on his cheeks.
Black: the perfect combination of all the colors that exist. the best qualities mashed into one, leaving ample opportunity to add more of the color that's most needed. black, the color of the room which we share in the middle of the night, where the only sounds are soft snoring or heavy moaning. sometimes both. it's in this color where we find solace in one another, an indescribable feeling of peace, a place which we call home. in the arms of the man i love. all the colors in the world, every combination of letters in every language- it'll never be enough to express the gratitude i have for the stars above that lead me to him.
#Timothée chalamet#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet soft#timothee chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet x y/n#timothée x reader#x reader#y/n#fluff#color association#red#orange#yellow#green#blue#purple#white#black#grey#pink#timothee chalamet as a color#timothee chalamet as regulus black#regulus black#reggie#regulus#regulus deserved better
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'We few, we happy few, we band of brothers'
It is one thing to disprove and even despise The Shire and its netizens. It is a whole other affair to violently bash S's skills, based on absolutely nothing else than spiteful disappointment.
We are being told by Mordor's basement polymaths the man cannot act. It is probably by an unelucidated strike of luck or by charity that he was cast by *** to embody book boyfriend JAMMF, when he has only 5 (five) known facial expressions in his quiver. He was the weakest link of Season 1 cast: I suppose the BJ/Frank Randall 2-in-1 does have a fan club, after all. His acting is wooden. He has chemistry only with C and by Her grace only, because you know, gay as a bag of popcorn. He is a semi-literate hunk, with documented spelling problems. Even more so, when we conveniently toss aside the mounting hysteria during Quarantein Ha-wa-wee disgrace (hey Pooks and all the sock account Dobermans: I hope you remember your Twitter blaze of glory moment every single morning while brushing your teeth). And (also a favorite) he doesn't read, he doesn't prepare, he is sloppy, like that.
God forbid you'd try to set this colossal unfairness straight. You are automatically signed up to the Mommies for Sam Committee and labeled accordingly. Brainless victim (of what, since he is basically useless, but let's not embarrass ourselves with logic), unapologetic limerent inamorata, romantic whale, delusional rural shipper, conspiracy theory troll. Anything goes, really and we know the tune by heart, at this point in time.
Not so long ago, I was re-watching the oath sequence of (5.01) The Fiery Cross, for which I suppose all background/context is superfluous. The only clip I could find has appalling sound, but should still immediately take you back to the Return of the Kilt (starts at 0:56):
youtube
It immediately reminded me of this:
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This is the extraordinary Henry V Saint Crispin's Day speech. Pure Shakespeare and unmatchable Olivier. It is also a well-documented kamikaze moment of the Battle of Agincourt (1415), when a heavily outnumbered English army defeated in an almost miraculous turn of events the French. Granted, the real speech must have been way more concise, but nevertheless a potent affair, with Henry's cunning use of rumors having it that the French would cut two fingers off each captured archer's right hand, to virtually neutralize them. And his army was, essentially, an army of longbows.
Whatever it was, it worked. It worked so well, that it even gave Winston Churchill the idea of asking Laurence Olivier to broadcast this speech for the BBC some time around 1942 and then make a movie of the whole play, in 1944. Again, context is important -it always is, by the way - and it sheds the right light on Olivier's performance. More than acting, it is damn effective war propaganda, a wonderful patriotic act and completely representative for the "we shall fight them on the beaches and we shall never surrender" spirit. It is also all about acting as summoning of energy: Olivier manages to channel Henry V, he is Henry V and this immediately gives an irresistible depth and truth to his performance.
For contrast, one could compare his version with Branagh's 1989 interpretation (https://youtu.be/y1BhnepZnoo), which I am not adding here for the sake of levity. The main difference is, for me at least, palpable: Olivier completely suppressed his ego, which I am afraid is something impossible to achieve for Branagh. His take on the speech aims to be more modern and natural, and yet it is still all about Branagh promoting his art. And we know it immediately. A fairly honest tableau vivant, but no depth and nowhere near as majestic as the other.
I am not saying here that S is on par with Laurence Olivier. That would really mean being a romantic whale and I am the one you start to get, I hope, acquainted with. What I am saying is that this guy you just love to humiliate and endlessly cackle about every single day God makes, really, deliberately knows what he is doing in there. I would bet handsome money on S carefully watching and re-watching Olivier's Saint Crispin's Day monologue, in order to prepare for that particular scene. The similarities are, to me, evident, as is the consistent hard work and - dare I say it?- massive talent. It's all about owning the scene and being in the moment. And it is arresting, at times.
All of this is not exactly some shipper far-fetched speculation. S wrote, after all, in Waypoints (and the reference is way too spot on to believe in a kind gesture of the ghostwriter) that he "devoured"
I see great things. I see a very gifted guy who has no ego (C was spot on and for an actor, that is a blessing) and also probably no idea of his (considerable) acting range. I also see a guy who, spare for OL, has been grossly, unfairly miscast and overlooked. And who was determined to take whatever was available or easy on the schedule, in order to remain relevant. I may not be a good client for his booze, but I would pay handsomely to see him in something along the lines of For Whom The Bell Tolls. Or even (if you want a more exotic but oh, so rewarding alternative) a still inexplicably missing Western adaptation of Bulgakov's Master and Margarita (probably not the best times for that one, but still: Bulgakov was, after all, born in Kyiv and not really a fan, to say the least, of tyrants). That's exactly how damn good he is.
How was it, Kidneystone BIF? Oh. "No boundaries. No respect. No class." Exactly, madam. You said it yourself.
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[Translation] Kanon Takao and Rico Sasaki's Animate Times interview (April 2024)
Animate Times put out a series of three interviews, conducted with Kanon Takao (actress of Sakiko/Oblivionis) and Rico Sasaki (actress of Uika/Doloris). In them, they talk in great depth about their characters, their love for the band members, Ave Mujica's concerts, aspirations they have for the band, the upcoming anime, and more!
For ease of reading, I have compiled all three interviews into one post, as they were only published days apart from each other.
If you're interested in Ave Mujica, be sure to check out the directory I compiled of all of their content, including more interviews like this!
Total word count: 6600
Ave Mujica is noble, beautiful and bewitching. They put on shows that resemble musicals, both mysterious and gothic. On January 27th, 2024, they held their 1st LIVE Perdere Omnia, which was a roaring success.
Ave Mujica is a new band under the BanG Dream! project, debuting on April 10th, 2023. Through a series of images and social media posts, they had their users solve riddles, and drew attention with the way they bend one’s sense of reality and delusion. They debuted as a band in the finale of the anime BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!!. Next January, they’ll be getting a sequel anime focused on them in the spotlight, BanG Dream! Ave Mujica.
We interviewed Rico Sasaki (guitar/vocals, as Doloris/Uika Misumi) and Kanon Takao (keyboard, as Oblivionis/Sakiko Togawa). Over the span of three parts, we had them discuss their path with the band.
…Welcome to the world of Ave Mujica.
Translated by Seine (@hanamukes)
To think she’d call him a trash father
――Takao-san, your character Oblivionis/Sakiko Togawa is a key character in Ave Mujica, as well as in the anime BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!!.
Takao: Sakiko is the girl who put all the stories into motion. Even CRYCHIC was a band Sakiko started, but something happened and she dropped it. Then she brought about the formation of Ave Mujica. She’s always the one who gets all the gears turning, so she truly is the type of character who puts the story into action.
――She both puts things into motion as well as drives all those around her mad, wouldn’t you say?
Takao: Bring about the destruction of the beginning, bring about the destruction of the beginning… Her heart is under a lot of distress, and the sequel anime will shed light on this. It goes over how she felt during various moments, so I hope everyone’s looking forward to it. I really want everyone to see it!
Sasaki: Same here. I want to talk about it so badly!
――I’m dying to know myself, but I’ll just look forward to the day it gets revealed (laughs). Do you mind if I inquire about how you two approach tackling your characters?
Takao: For me, I’d never voiced a character like this before in an anime. At the start, Sakiko is a pure, kind, warm, proper girl, but midway through something happens and a shadow is cast over her. She starts saying harsh things to those around her and even I was taken back by it.
I did my acting as the “light” Sakiko pretty straightforwardly, but “dark” Sakiko is strong-forced, fragile, angry and sorrowful. I tried to capture her with the nuance of her wearing a mask, which conceals the truth of her heart, and all the little nuances that come with the gap between her outward appearance and how she feels deep down.
――Did you know about Sakiko’s change when you auditioned for her?
Takao: No. Rather, I didn’t know she was supposed to be a bright girl at the start. What I saw when I was first shown her character was the Sakiko we know today. When I started recording, I thought, “She really used to be so pure, huh?”
――You didn’t know about the “I’m home… you trash father.” scene either?
Takao: Sure didn’t (laughs). I really knew nothing at the start. I was as shocked as everyone else about that line. When I first received the script, I looked at that line and wondered “Whose line is this?” and when I saw “Sakiko” written beside it, I went “She says this?!”
――Sasaki-san, could you talk a bit about Uika Misumi?
Sasaki: Uika Misumi is a girl still shrouded in mystery. I find her complex, but I also share a lot in common with her, such as my love of the stars and music. In BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!!, she tells Tomori “You can convey a lot in singing. You can even convey the things you can’t put into words,” and it resonated with me a lot too. She holds memories of her friend Saki-chan close to her heart, and being able to interact with her saves her in a way. She’s also busy with her idol work and being a student, so she’s a hard worker. However, she has a lot of dark sides to her too, and I just want the sequel anime to air already.
I think Uika and Tomori can connect their hearts a lot as two vocalists. Though Tomori-chan approaches it with the idea that “I can’t become human unless I sing”. With Uika, she portrays this sense of “when she sings, the monster known as Doloris emerges”. There’s still a lot we don’t know about her, so I hope everyone will wrap their heads around the mystery that is Uika until the anime airs. When rewatching the anime, you can look at her expressions and make your own assumptions about her and such. The sequel hasn’t aired yet, but their story is being told in our concerts, so make sure to watch those and let your imagination go wild.
――So you’ve been coming up with your own theories about her too?
Sasaki: Correct. I wonder just when we’ll get more about her backstory…
All: (laughs)
Sasaki: You just can’t help but want to know more about things you’re kept in the dark about. Whenever I go in to record, I’d ask the director about that regarding her, and every time I’d get told “I can’t tell you yet, sorry!” (laughs)
Takao: Right! They won’t tell me anything either!
Sasaki: We’re always shocked whenever we read the new scripts.
Takao: They just don’t know how to tell us.
Sasaki: I’ve never seen an anime quite play out like this before. Please look forward to it.
Sasaki-san’s notebook, which she updates daily
――You held your 0th Live, Primo die in scaena on June 4th, 2023. You performed on stage with masks and robes on, shrouded in mystery. How did you feel during that time?
Sasaki: We couldn’t talk about anything so it was a weird feeling. But we could feel the enthusiasm from the audience, so I was happy about that. Our “voltage” gradually rose, and we talked amongst ourselves about what we wanted to convey on stage, and what kind of band we wanted to make this. We talked about all sorts of things about our future, and that got our spirits up a lot.
Takao: Ave Mujica started out hidden behind masks and riddled with mystery, which was unseen before in the Bandori project. I was worried about whether the fans would accept us. But Ave Mujica is a band where we put trust in each other’s skills and efforts, and from the get-go we’ve felt confident that with the five of us together, everything would turn out alright.
Sasaki: Our bond has grown so strong, it’s out the roof! (laughs)
Takao: I’m almost scared to know the full depths of how much we could love each other!
Sasaki: We have so much trust in each other, this band fills me with the feelings of “I love having people who uplift me around,” and “being in a band is so much fun!”
――When did you start feeling such a closeness?
Takao: (looks at Sasaki) When did we?
Sasaki: I almost want to say from the very start (laughs).
Takao: It really did just happen without us realizing it. Though Ricochi joined us a little later.
Sasaki: I was nervous at first if I’d be welcomed in, since the four of them were already really close by then. It was the first time I’d ever properly been in a band, so I did some looking into everyone before I joined.
Takao: She has all of our profiles jotted down in a notebook.
――That’s amazing!
Sasaki: I do. I was just so excited to meet everyone.
Takao: It didn’t take long for us to think “Ricochi fits in absolutely perfectly!” Whenever she sings Kamisama, Baka (T/N: God’s a Fool), I just think “Oh God is anything BUT a fool for the blessing that is Ricochi being our vocalist!”
Sasaki: I’m so glad to hear that!
――What kinds of things do you have written down about everyone?
Sasaki: Let me start with Kanon Takao (laughs).
Takao: That’s embarrassing! (laughs)
Sasaki: I have her likes, dislikes, personal history…
――You’ve got a whole analysis on her!
Sasaki: All five of us are good friends even in private and we hang out together a lot. I always write down the new things I learn about them from those interactions.
――So you update it in real time?
Sasaki: I do. For instance, Akanen (Akane Yonezawa, who voices Amoris/Nyamu Yuutenji) told us she grew a little bit, so I jotted that down. I’ve already filled half the pages in the book. Whenever we do stuff as Ave Mujica, whether for recordings or concerts, I have the book glued to my person.
Takao: Whenever we go out to eat together, we’ll talk about things we want to do together and songs we want to sing, and she’ll always immediately jot it down in her book.
Sasaki: I even have our song lyrics all written down in it. I use it for everything.
――You’re like Ave Mujica’s secretary.
Sasaki: While staring at our song lyrics in it, I’ll jot down notes of how I want to move around during the instrumental breaks, and we’ll try them out in our rehearsals.
Takao: We all gather around her notebook.
――Your notebook is like a compass for the band. Is that correct?
Takao: It really is. We all hold a lot of love.
Sasaki: Nontan bought all five of us matching sweaters, and I bought us all matching rings.
――Is it the ring you’re wearing today?
Sasaki: Yes! It’s in the shape of a treble clef, and I thought they felt very Ave Mujica-like.
Takao: I should have worn mine, too!
Sasaki: I’m just happy knowing everyone else owns one too.
Takao: She gave us the matching rings when she joined the band. That got me thinking “it’s fun to have us all wear the same things!” so I’m always looking for things with moons on them to buy for us all.
Sasaki: I get you (laughs). I made my phone case Ave Mujica-like too. I just end up gravitating towards these things. Actually, with the rings I wasn’t sure if I should actually hand them out to everyone, but my manager talked me into it.
Takao: Is that so? (laughs)
Sasaki: I thought “but isn’t that kinda pushy of me?” (laughs) But everyone seemed to love them and they all put them on, so that made me happy.
Takao: When I got it, I thought “she’s such a nice person,” and it made me fall in love with you on the spot.
Sasaki: I’m so glad you all liked them!
The band itself is dark, but the members themselves are bright as can be
――You all hold a lot of love for each other, don’t you?
Sasaki: We really do. Nontan’s always making videos of us together.
Takao: I pull up pictures we all took together and compile them and make edits. Then I send them to everyone on our birthdays, or before our concerts in order to cheer them on.
Sasaki: The quality is so high, I almost wish she’d share them in public. They’re our Mujica Movies, full of love for everyone.
Takao: Also, the other day I visited a Shinto shrine and wrote a prayer on one of the wooden tablets. I wrote, “I hope that Ave Mujica will forever be friendly, full of life, and maturity.”
Sasaki: The worldview we portray is dark, but us cast members are very warm.
Takao: Everyone is so very kind.
――You seem blessed with such kind members.
Takao: It really feels like a miracle!
Sasaki: I couldn’t imagine us with even one of us not here. I’m so proud of us.
The movements are as important as the music itself
――In what ways did you prepare for your 0th live, Primo die in Scaena?
Takao: I remember us gathering around Ricochi’s notebook together.
――The same notebook you discussed in the previous part, yes?
Sasaki: We put a lot of thought into the concert while we all went out to lunch together. Though at the time, we were still wearing robes, and we really needed to convey the worldview of the band in quite an intense way. We took our rehearsals as seriously as the actual concert, and I remember us borrowing all sorts of advice from the staff.
I’m still quite nervous and anxious even now, but during 0th, it took everything for me to be able to act. When I looked back at our footage, I thought “I wish I’d done more to engage with the other bandmates, and been a bit more confusing”. When we performed as the opening act for Roselia’s concert and of course during our 1st live, I put in a lot more movements to convey the world we’re creating better.
Takao: It’s true that during 0th, we were all quite focused on our own instruments. I think that also portrays our worldview in its own way, but still, we talked after about how we wanted to focus less on just the music and more on the movements as well. Whenever our concerts end, we think “let’s become even better performers”. We’re always growing more after each concert.
Sasaki: We really want to make Ave Mujica an even bigger band.
【公式ライブ映像】Ave Mujica「Mas?uerade Rhapsody Re?uest」（Ave Mujica 0th LIVE「Primo die in scaena」より）
――So you band members enjoy Ave Mujica as much as the fans do.
Takao: I think even in a world where I wasn’t in Ave Mujica, I would still become a massive fan. I like to enjoy Ave Mujica both in the perspective as a band member as well as a fan myself.
――It’s hard to picture Ave Mujica without you.
Sasaki: Exactly! I’d want you here no matter what.
Takao: I’m not going anywhere now that I’m here! I promise! (laughs)
――I see though. That really goes to show how appealing Ave Mujica and its world are.
Takao: Yes. I love it so much!
A world that is one of a kind. A band with no limitations to it
――In regards to Ave Mujica’s world, it really is quite unique within the setting of Bandori.
Sasaki: It truly is unique. It’s one of a kind, really. It’s almost like rather than showing everyone how it develops, it’s showing an already completed world to the audience.
Takao: There’s always this pressure of “we need to keep the audience’s expectations high”.
Sasaki: That’s true. Whenever we perform live, it’s like the world is being completed.
――In the previous part of the interview, you claimed you weren’t sure if Bandori’s fans would accept Ave Mujica because of how different it is. We interviewed MyGO!!!!!’s Rin Tateishi and Coco Hayashi and they expressed the same sentiments of feeling nervous.
Sasaki: We really all were worried sick about this.
Takao: MyGO!!!!! also started holding concerts without showing their faces on stage, as we did.
――In a sense, MyGO!!!!! and Ave Mujica really do contrast each other. What are your thoughts regarding this?
Sasaki: While watching the anime, you can really see how MyGO!!!!! also goes through a lot of struggles of their own. But even within that, you can see some sort of sparkling image from them. It’s almost like how after it rains, puddles on the asphalt will sparkle and shine.
To contrast that, Ave Mujica is like a black hole. It’s as if there’s some sort of shining light within a black void. Musically, we have the impact of being uniquely theatrical and suspenseful.
――You’re very gothic and metallic.
Sasaki: This band was the first time I tried playing heavy metal. I never realized how much fun it was! You pour your soul into it, and there’s a lot of specific technique involved but it’s not necessarily “uniform”. It’s quite unconventional, and there’s some pretty absurd techniques involved in each and every person’s part. We’re all trying our absolute hardest with it, and now that we’ve actually made this world, we want to continue to polish and refine it.
Takao: MyGO!!!!!’s story is one of youthful experiences. When you think about everyone’s skill levels in it, in a good way I think it accurately represents humans and their weaknesses. Sakiko has bonds with CRYCHIC of course, with Tomori’s songs as well as her bonds with Taki and Soyo, and she looks at MyGO!!!!! fervently.
On the other hand, Ave Mujica is unrealistic, and it tells the story of an experience that you’re not intended to have ever experienced before. It’s like looking at a work of art, and also in a good way I think it’s a band that does not accurately represent humans and their weaknesses. The overwhelming world Ave Mujica presents is its strength. Ave Mujica doesn’t hold your typical concerts, they incorporate stage plays into it. The setting is reliant on it being like a drama, and I think it’s a band you can enjoy both visually and audibly.
Sasaki: The setlist for our 1st live was based around the story parts, so during rehearsals we would all discuss in depth where to put what songs in the order and tried all sorts of ideas out. Ave Mujica’s songs all have their unique quirks to them, so it makes it hard to come up with the perfect setlist. We talked with the producer and came up with ideas on how to play the songs while coming up with the right facial expressions and movements to match.
For instance, even if I smiled during a specific song in previous performances, if the setlist for this concert had me follow that song up with a darker one, I tried to be more on the cooler side in anticipation of that. While it’s not easy by any means, I love how much depth there is to the musical expression for this band.
Takao: The sky is really the limit for us.
Sasaki: It’s really fun making our own world completely unrestricted. There’s times where we come up with crazy requests for the staff and it causes all sorts of mayhem and trialing, but I find even that to be such a joy.
Takao: I love how it feels like we’re coming up with this ourselves. Afterwards, I’ll see all sorts of theories in our Twitter tags being made about us, like “Oh, so did this mean that I wonder?” and I’ll always go “Yes!” (laughs)
Like with the drama parts for our 1st live, our lines were pre-recorded and we just moved our bodies without opening our mouths to lip sync or anything. That was something we came up with while discussing with our producer; that because we’re supposed to be dolls, we wouldn’t move our mouths to express ourselves. There were fans who caught onto that, and I was so excited I sent stuff about it in Ave Mujica’s LINE group chat (laughs).
Sasaki: She’s always sharing stuff she finds like that.
Takao: I send things like, “Look! Everyone caught on to how we meant to portray this!”
Sasaki: When people first experience our concerts, they wonder “what is this band trying to portray?” but then they pick up on what’s going on and they enjoy both the play parts and the song parts. In a way, it feels like our audience is helping make the world with us.
――It’s like the audience is another part of Ave Mujica.
Sasaki: Yes. They’re our witnesses and accomplices after all.
From the 0th live to the 1st one
――What kinds of things do you consider when performing as Ave Mujica?
Takao: With Sakiko, I think hard about what motions she would make and such. She grew up as a proper lady, so I try to make her still feel elegant when performing. I also try to really portray that she is the founder of Ave Mujica in my performances of her, so I’ve been rehearsing that plenty.
Sasaki: When I perform, I try to convey that I’m Doloris, and no longer “Uika Misumi”. I try to keep in mind that Uika is being possessed.
Takao: In the anime Sakiko makes a lot of fierce expressions, but when she’s on stage, she smiles a lot. I was surprised at first when I realized that. So I try to have Oblivionis have a bewitching aura to her. I really try to make it seem like she’s enjoying herself on stage, and I keep that in mind with my movements and gestures for her.
――Is it like you’re also being possessed by your role, Takao-san?
Takao: I like to look back on the anime before performing, because if I can’t get into portraying Sakiko or Oblivionis properly, I won’t enjoy it myself. So I guess I would say I’m possessed by my role. Ricochi, what about you?
Sasaki: (Doing an Oblivionis impression) Down to my fingertips.
All: (laughs)
Takao: She’s always doing impressions of her (laughs).
Sasaki: I think Nontan’s really impressive for how much subtle nuance she puts into portraying her character. During 0th live, all I had in mind was “I just need to move”. When looking back at the footage, I thought “I really didn’t represent our world well enough,” and seeing how Nontan acted, it was like she’s elevated out of the concert hall to her own world. I swear I saw a halo above her head (laughs).
Takao: (laughs). Take Choir ‘S’ Choir for instance. I play it as if I’m in a grassy field. In my head, I imagine myself in different places as I play, and it’s almost weird to put into words.
Sasaki: I can always tell!
Takao: I’m so glad!
Sasaki: I can also tell “ah, that note she played felt so solemn,” and “she sounds like she’s having fun over there”.
Takao: I always try to convey my feelings into my sound and movements, so I’m glad it gets across. Though whenever I see Doloris, it really makes me feel like I’ve entered Ave Mujica’s world for real.
Sasaki: Aw, I’m so glad!
Takao: It’s neither Ricochi nor Uika Misumi. It’s Doloris. When I see you turn into her, I also feel something click within me.
Sasaki: It’s like we flick on a switch in each other.
Takao: I feel that when I look at the other members as well. I think something else fun about the band is by watching our movements and interactions, it makes you ask all sorts of questions about the characters and their relationships with each other.
Sasaki: We touch hands with each other and look at each other while singing and stuff. We come up with those things after a lot of discussion amongst ourselves. I think 1st live really opened the breadth of Ave Mujica’s musical expression.
“We always sing by going with the flow”
――What kinds of discussions did you band members have in preparation for your first live, Perdere Omnia?
Sasaki: Around New Years as the concert drew closer, we started doing video calls with each other to share our ideas for how we wanted to move during it.
Takao: The camera of course reverses the shot, so it was quite difficult to explain things to each other using it (laughs).
Sasaki: We were fine-tuning things right until the last minute. For our 0th live we wore robes and I used a standing microphone, but for this one I switched to using a headset mic. That really changed a lot. I was able to get closer to the other members while singing, and in general I was able to move around much more.
There’s hand mics too, so there’s all sorts of ideas to try out. I think singing while holding a mic in my hands would be fitting for the stage play aspect, while there’s other songs that work well with a standing mic. With a headset mic I get to go closer to everyone else, or who knows where else… (laughs).
All: (laughs)
Takao: The headset setup is really good, because whenever I see her having fun singing with it on, it makes my tricky parts in songs turn into really fun ones. Her enjoyment is contagious. I always think “Ricochi is so powerful!”
Sasaki: I could say the same about you! Hearing you all playing alongside me makes me able to put more power into my voice. There’s moments where I’m so absorbed in our world that my head starts to go fuzzy. When that happens, I’ll listen carefully to Nontan’s piano and Doloris comes back in full swing. I’ll also purposely turn up Yuzumoon’s guitar playing so it’s louder in my better ear monitor, and I’ll listen closely to when we match up perfectly. I do this with the bass and drums as well; I use all five of my senses to feel everyone else’s playing as I sing.
――What’s a song you feel that most strongly with?
Takao: It’s Angles for me. Not to go back to this, but during our 0th live, expectations were high for us, and then the anime aired and we performed as an opening act for Roselia, so the fans were going wild.
That pressure was definitely felt during our 1st live. I thought “we really need to put on a show that proves we’ve leveled up,” and I felt much more nervous than usual. Ricochi and Yuzumoon’s guitar teacher would always watch in on our rehearsals, and they pointed out “whenever you get nervous, you tend to not look at the other member’s eyes. If you get nervous during the concert, why don’t you look the other’s in the eyes as a sort of amulet for yourself?”
――That’s some good advice! Those words alone can be an amulet of its own, too.
Takao: I remembered it right before the concert started. Personally speaking, among the setlist I was most anxious about Angles, which starts with singing and my piano. I asked Ricochi “during Angles, please look me in the eyes”. During the concert she really did make eye contact with me, and I was able to enter Ave Mujica’s world safely. 1st live made me realize that making eye contact really is an amulet for me.
Sasaki: Actually during rehearsals, I was looking at her a little too much. I was scared I was overdoing it, so I tried looking for a good balance of how much to stare at her. If I was in her shoes, I feel like I’d be unable to focus on my playing, being stared at so much. But when the day of the concert came around, she told me “please look at me,” and that made me happy. I looked at her very comfortably during it.
Takao: Comfortably? (laughs)
Sasaki: Seeing Nontan play her instrument so full of passion made me able to match up my singing to that same extent. With passion in my singing and the two of our hearts matched up… that’s how Angles is born.
Ave Mujica - Angles (Official Music Video)
――You could really feel the tension at the start of Angles.
Takao: All I could think is “I’ve never had the spotlight on me this much before”. When I saw the footage of the livestream after, the camerawork on the two of us was incredible.
――Sasaki-san, how did you feel during that part?
Sasaki: The biggest thing was acknowledging the song takes place in Doloris and Oblivionis’ world, just the two of them. Of course I thought about how we were in concert, but all I thought of as I was singing was “this world only has the two of them”. I don’t recall being very nervous during it. Oblivionis’ playing was so reassuring and bright, so I really felt confident, and that everything would be okay.
Takao: Amazing!
The insane riff master, and the stressful arpeggio
――Sasaki-san, so there’s songs that you find hard, but having the other members by your side makes you feel confident?
Sasaki: I have to sing while also playing the leading guitar part, so there’s times where I feel like I’m going to snap. Though Yuzumoon also plays along with me. She’s an “insane riff master”.
Takao: (laughs)
Sasaki: Rhythm guitar is not easy. I’m sure Yuzumoon was so nervous during her ending arpeggio during Angles.
Takao: She really did it perfectly during the concert!
Sasaki: Yuzumoon would never admit in conversation how much she’s grown. She just demonstrates it in her playing. I always feel that potently whenever we do rehearsals or concerts together. During 1st live, while hearing her arpeggio that’s filled with blood, sweat and tears, I came in and did my own solo at the end. Our producer who came up with this was a genius.
We both had hard parts, but we can both feel that if we play together, no matter how hard it is, we’ll do our best. Without needing to actually say anything to each other, we speak through our playing.
It’s a magnificent world, however, it’s nowhere to be found
――You also performed Subarashiki Sekai, Demo, Dokonimo Nai Basho for the first time.
Sasaki: Our 1st live had the story of “the discarded dolls destroyed the world and created a new one,” and Subarashiki Sekai, Demo, Dokonimo Nai Basho was the first step in that plan. The D-melo was like a wielded guitar, in a way.
Takao: Like a sword.
Sasaki: Exactly. I sang and played the song with the image of destroying the world.
Takao: For me, I played thinking of Oblivionis as “the world’s envoy,” so I tried not to move too much during the song. In my head Oblivionis plays the song while standing frigidly, playing with both hands, staring forward without looking at her keyboard.
Sasaki: You say it like it’s nothing, but that really is crazy. It’s like she’s no longer human (laughs).
――(laughs) Could you talk a little about the song itself?
Sasaki: 1st live really came together beautifully. “Perdere Omnia” actually means “destroy everything”. Subarashiki Sekai, Demo, Dokonimo Nai Basho has the lines “destroy it, destroy it” within it, so the song is about creating a new world from its ruins.
It’s really the essence of Perdere Omnia. The song is about destroying everything and starting from scratch, and I sang and played my guitar while keeping Doloris’ determination and preparation in mind. Listening to it really gets me in the mindset, and I hope the audience feels the same way. As our accomplices, they destroyed the world together with us and we brought them to a new one. I kept that in mind during my recording for it.
――It’s an easy song to listen to.
Takao: Even though it’s about destroying the world, Ricochi’s voice is so smooth during the chorus. I love that part…!
Sasaki: Thanks!
Saved by BanG Dream! Ave Mujica
――Could you tell us as much as you can about some highlights regarding the upcoming anime, BanG Dream! Ave Mujica?
Takao: I put everything into Sakiko’s acting right from episode 1. After I finished recording episode 1, the director, Koudai Kakimoto told me “your acting made me cry”.
Sasaki: I want to watch it already!
Takao: That’s how passionately I recorded it, and the staff all had a high level of empathy while working on the sequel. I think it’ll really live up to expectations. Even episode 1 alone will make you cry (laughs).
Sasaki: It showcases each and every character, and we’ll see new sides to girls that we haven’t yet. I’ve finished my recording for it by now, and all I can say is it’s saved me, in a way.
Takao: Same here! I feel saved by it.
Sasaki: Everyone will have their own views on it, so I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions. I can’t say much about it, but it has the same kinds of twists and turns that the MyGO!!!!! girls went through. I think the warped emotions, and the relationships being twisted are all beautiful. I don’t think that beauty only exists in “pretty” things, and that there’s a shine and beauty in the ugly.
Takao: After I finished recording the last episode, I thought “Ave Mujica really is a ray of light”.
Sasaki: It’s hard to talk about it without spoiling stuff, but we got to record together and it was a lot of fun.
Takao: In BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!!, it revealed that Uika and Sakiko were childhood friends, but the sequel shows us even more of their relationship.
Sasaki: We threw in a lot of ad libs in our acting.
Takao: We really did!
Sasaki: There’s fun scenes as well as tense ones.
Takao: I hope everyone will watch it to the end.
――Now that you’ve finished recording for the sequel, is there anything you’d like to reflect on regarding the finale of BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!!?
Takao: My feelings have changed in all sorts of ways. After watching the finale for the sequel, rewatching BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!! again has me feeling like “oh, so that’s what was happening here”.
Sasaki: BanG Dream! It’s MyGO!!!!! was full of mystery still, so it definitely deserves a revisit, and make sure you pay close attention to everything in it, because there’s a lot of moments where you’ll start to connect the dots.
TVアニメ「BanG Dream! Ave Mujica」解禁PV
(Subbed version)
Looking towards a magnificent future
――You’re currently putting out one song per month for five months.
Sasaki: The anime hasn’t even aired yet, so it’s such an honor.
Takao: We don’t actually know what the songs will be like yet.
Sasaki: Yes. I’m so excited to have and be able to sing five new songs that showcase Ave Mujica’s world in their own ways!
Takao: It’s like, “Ave Mujica, you made too much of your world!” (laughs). I wonder in what ways they’ll form the world? The possibilities are endless.
Sasaki: I’m sure they’ll each have their own story to them. We’ve been dolls up until now, but I hope in the future we get to try other ideas.
――I can’t help but wonder how high the bar for your new songs might end up being…
Sasaki: I’m ready to take on anything! I’ll be playing with everyone else after all, and I’ll be sure to absolutely cherish each and every line in the songs.
――Your Blu-ray feature for your 1st single contains footage of your 1st live. I hope people will watch it and go to your concerts. I look forward to what your concerts will be like after the sequel anime airs.
Takao: Me too!
Sasaki: What will they even be like?! (laughs)
Takao: I imagine there will be some sort of change by then. I’m sure the direction for them will shift.
Sasaki: The staff has so much fun coming up with ideas, it makes me happy.
Takao: I trust them all wholeheartedly!
Sasaki: The members and staff are both just wonderful.
――Your 2nd live will take place in June and July. Is there anything you can say about it yet?
Takao: We don’t know what the setlist or direction, or what new songs will be performed at it are yet. I just know the concert will show everyone a new world to Ave Mujica, so I hope everyone comes to watch us in all of our newness.
Sasaki: The possibilities for what we’ll come up with are endless, and we’ll do our best to discuss among us five members on how to create that new world together. To our audience, Ave Mujica is still wrapped in mystery and not a lot is known about us, but I hope they’ll gladly let Ave Mujica engulf them in its darkness. We’re all villains of the same stripe, after all. I hope you’ll enjoy the world of Ave Mujica alongside us.
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لأهل التّقوى علامات يُعرَفون بها... عندما نتحدث عن أهل التقوى، نتحدث عن النفوس الصافية والقلوب المتقية التي تحمل في طياتها منجيات وعلامات تدل على تقواها وتقبلها لدى الله. ومن بين هذه العلامات التي يُعرف بها أهل التقوى، قال الحسن البصري -رحمه الله-: "صدقُ الحديث، والوفاءُ بالعهد، وصِلةُ الرّحم، ورحمةُ الضّعفاء، وقلةُ الفخر والخُيلاء، وبذلُ المعروف، وقِلةُ المباهاة للنَّاس، وحُسنُ الخُلق، وسِعةُ الخَلق"، فلنلقِ إضاءة على هذه العلامات ونتأمل في معانيها العميقة.
"صدقُ الحديث" تعني للأهل التقوى ألا ينطقوا إلا بالحق، وأن يكون كلامهم مطابقاً للواقع وخالياً من الزيف والتزييف. فالصدق في الحديث يكون فيما ينطوي عليه من التزام بالواقع والابتعاد عن الكذب والزور. وهذا من أعظم مظاهر التقوى التي تدل على صفاء النية وسلامة القلب.
و"الوفاء بالعهد"، فأهل التقوى يتميزون بالوفاء والثبات فيما عاهدوا على أنفسهم، سواء كان هذا العهد مع الله أو مع الناس. فهم يحافظون على الوفاء والإخلاص في العلاقات الإنسانية والعقائدية، مما يجعلهم مثالاً يُحتذى به في التزامهم بالوعود والعهود.
"وصِلةُ الرّحم"، فالتقوى تدفع صاحبها إلى الاهتمام بعلاقات الرحم والعناية بأسرته وأقاربه، حتى يسود المحبة والتآلف بينهم، وتبقى أواصر الرحم قوية ومتينة في قلوبهم.
"ورحمةُ الضّعفاء"، فأهل التقوى يتمتعون بالرحمة والتعاطف مع الضعفاء والمحتاجين، ويكونون سنداً ودعماً لهم في كل حال. فالتقوى تعلم الإنسان أن يكون مع الضعفاء كما يود أن يكون معه في حالة الضعف.
"وقلةُ الفخر والخُيلاء"، فالتقوى تجعل صاحبها متواضعاً ومتعففاً، ولا يحمل في قلبه طغياناً أو كبرياءً، بل يكون تواضعاً ومتواضعاً في تعامله مع الناس وحتى في تقديره لذاته.
"وبذلُ المعروف"، فأهل التقوى يكونون سخاءً وكرماء في أعمالهم، ويحرصون على بذل المعروف للناس ومساعدتهم كما يستطيعون، مما يجعلهم أصحاب إحسان وعطاء دائم.
"وقِلةُ المباهاة للنَّاس"، فالمتقي يكون متواضعاً ولا يتباهى بما لديه أو ما يقوم به، بل يكون حريصاً على أن تكون أفعاله خالصة لله وليست للنظرة العامة أو للمدح من الناس.
"وحُسنُ الخُلق"، فالتقوى تزين صاحبها بحسن الخلق والأخلاق الحميدة، مما يجعله محبوباً لدى الناس ومثالاً يُحتذى به في تصرفاته وسلوكه.
"وسِعةُ الخَلق"، فالتقوى تجعل الإنسان سيّداً له نفسه وقريباً من الناس، ولا يكون ضيق الأفق نحو الآخرين ولا نحو الخير.
فعلاً، هذه العلامات هي عبارة عن خيوط جميلة ترتبط بغزارة في نفوس أهل التقوى، وهي تدل على عمق إيمانهم وتزين سيرهم في الحياة. فأهل التقوى ليسوا فقط مجرد عباد يؤدون الصلوات والأعمال الصالحة، بل هم رموز للإنسانية والوفاء والصدق والسخاء والتواضع. فلنتأمل هذه العلامات ولنحاول أن نكون منهم، فالتقوى سبيل النجاح في الدنيا والآخرة.
For the people of piety, there are signs by which they are known. When we talk about the people of piety, we are referring to pure souls and righteous hearts that carry within them signs and indications of their piety and acceptance by God. Among these signs by which the people of piety are known, Al-Hasan Al-Basri (may God have mercy on him) said: "Speaking the truth, fulfilling commitments, maintaining family ties, showing mercy to the weak, humility, generosity, performing good deeds without showing off, good manners, and having a generous nature." Let's shed light on these signs and contemplate their deep meanings.
"Speaking the truth" means that the people of piety speak only the truth, and their words are in line with reality, free from falsehood and deception. Truthfulness in speech reflects a commitment to reality and an avoidance of lies and deceit. This is one of the greatest manifestations of piety, indicating the purity of intention and the soundness of heart.
"Fulfilling commitments" - the people of piety are characterized by their faithfulness and steadfastness to the commitments they make, whether with God or with people. They uphold sincerity and faithfulness in human and religious relationships, setting an example in their adherence to promises and covenants.
"Maintaining family ties" - piety urges its adherents to care for family relationships and to show concern for their relatives, fostering love and harmony among them and keeping the ties of kinship strong and resilient in their hearts.
"Showing mercy to the weak" - the people of piety exhibit compassion and empathy towards the weak and needy, providing them with support and assistance at all times. Piety teaches a person to treat the weak as they would want to be treated in times of vulnerability.
"Humility and avoiding arrogance" - piety makes its adherents humble and unassuming, free from arrogance or pride, as they exhibit humility in their interactions with others and in their self-assessment.
"Performing good deeds without showing off" - the people of piety are generous and magnanimous in their actions, eager to show kindness to others and help them to the best of their ability, making them constant exemplars of benevolence and generosity.
"Showing modesty and refraining from boasting" - those who are pious are humble and do not boast about their possessions or actions, ensuring that their deeds are sincere for the sake of God and not for public recognition or praise from people.
"Having good manners" - piety adorns its adherents with good manners and noble ethics, making them beloved to people and setting an example to be emulated in their conduct and behavior.
"Being generous in nature" - piety enables a person to be self-disciplined and close to others, not restricted in their outlook towards others or towards goodness.
Certainly, these signs are beautiful threads intricately woven into the hearts of the people of piety, indicating the depth of their faith and adorning their lives. The people of piety are not just worshippers who perform prayers and righteous deeds, but they are symbols of humanity, faithfulness, truthfulness, generosity, and humility. Let us reflect on these signs and strive to be among them, for piety is the path to success in this life and the Hereafter.
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We are devastated by the news that Roshdi Sarraj was killed in an Israeli airstrike on 22 October that hit his family's home in Tal al-Hawa in Gaza City.
A talented photojournalist, filmmaker, and a co-founder of “Ain Media”, an independent collective of Palestinian photographers and filmmakers based in the Gaza Strip, Roshdi worked with us last year to produce a short film to shed light on the human cost of the August 2022 offensive on the Gaza Strip. We invite you to watch the short film as a tribute to his memory through the link in our bio.
Roshdi is the third member of Ain Media to be killed; Ibrahim Lafi was killed on 7 October, and Yasser Mourtaja was killed while covering the Great March of Return in 2018. Roshdi’s sole purpose was to share stories from Gaza, not just during times of war and sorrow but also the simple and inspiring stories that people in Gaza share on a daily basis between pure joy and utter sadness.
Roshdi is survived by his wife, Shurouq, and his one-year-old daughter, Dania, and by countless friends and colleagues who will continue to be inspired by his example and commitment to truth, justice, and hope.
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Chapter II.....
Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn in still dark..
- Rabindranath Tagore
No one's p.o.v..
The sun blazed through the white translucent curtains of the wooden oak window which situated in the north wall of the messy fairly large room as if trying not to make anyone know about its uninvited arrival. the yellow painted room lit up in advance making it shone like gold.
extended banks of cloud like long french loaves glowed pink as the sun the sun spread its last rays of the day and ready to set in the arms of yamuna. the distant roof tops shined like rose tinted blush. breeze was silently singing the melody of monsoon and the distant crops danced flawlessly alluring the first rain of the year and ready to bring the relieved grin on the face of the hardworking farmers who silently prayed to god for mercy.
" it doesnt even matter they are confiscating the land if you are unable to pay the tax and the rain not being plentiful this year isn't helping the situation much"
The female with Lotus brown eyes narrowed her eyes ever so slightly as if a brown ship changing its direction according to the direction of wind her cupid lips formed into a thin exasperated stressed thin line as the long and cold fingers of hers ran through the pages of her journal.
But the brown pupil burned like rings of fire engulfed in destructive flames that just wanted to burn the white nasty hands off from the pure land of her motherland from torture and miserability those nasty hands.
Closing those eyes with thick long lashes hiding the burning rings of fire like clouds compelling to hide the sun. Her brown skin shone like gold under the blazing heat.
" Two farmers attempted suicide Niyati, the revenue officers are nothing less than an bunch of pricks marching with sepoys beating them to death if they are unable to pay the tax"
She looked at the small ideal of shri ram resting on the nearby table silently asking him to take her to don't let her rott in misery but as if the god was telling her to compel their decision that she couldn't die when she had a job to free her beloved mother land.
Tears pricked at the end of those Lotus eyes like gandharaj shedding sweet nectar but her face remained hard as rock.
These people were hardly human they didn't had any kindness not even a sense of humanity for the real citizens living on their motherland. Exploiting their people. How can they be so cruel? But whom was she kidding. They were here to ruin their country and there was no way she was going to sit back and observe her country being vanished away ruined by the nasty white hands.
She wondered how much more blood of innocents will grace the sacred pure land of her Bharat. This soil was dirty by being exploitation of its sons and daughters in most unjust ways. It was like how much pain and suffering those whites could give to them.
" your husband-" the voice of the another female came out as a hesitant effort to blurt out the truth or not her long slender fingers fidgeted with the pen in her hands as she thought if it was a good time to tell her best friend about this or not her eyes Snapped at her friend who bit her lips in anticipation fighting with the urges inside thinking if she should tell the brown eyed woman about this or not.
" snap out of it Meera" the Lotus eyed woman's voice was laced with annoyance and frustation as her chest heaved up and down in a rhythmic way calming down the amount of anger she had for those people who came to have trade and formed the territory!! as if after a tremendous storm the ship sinks down in the vast depth of the undefeated sea she stared at the woman in front of her. She was being ridiculous right now. She needed to tell what was the matter ?
And when it got something to do with the so called egoistic sadistic husband of hers no wonder she didn't got one of the nicest feelings. After all it was him, a person who gave more importance to those who came from foreign land.
Who ruined everything about Indians and India.
Who tortured people.
Who used them like a piece of rag who exploited them. Who beated them to death after making them suffer. Who left thm rot in misery .
Who disclosed the indian education policy being very proud of western culture.
Who manipulated that they were the only ones destined for greatness.
The ancient sculptures were being burned in the Asiatic society so as if to completely vanish the proofs of the greatness those pages carried the witnesses that this sacred land was touching the heavens until someone came in expensive leather boots in hope to conquer it crush it's maginificense with hunger in the eyes.
Who made the next generation completely disclosed from their own country's excellence which was beyond a tiny white brain's understanding.
Whose history held the maginificense that no one else could match.
Her jaw clenched in a slight manner doing everything in her power to reduce her anger and fury the blazing heat striked like waves of the lava on her oval shaped face bringing out unappreciated beauty. Remembering that education policy they have just brought. Established universities in many parts of Bengal, Bombay, odisha, madras, and finally Delhi.
Teaching about western tactics which the people of this land didn't even needed.
It was a way of manipulating the younger minds two completely vanished the Indian education system under the curtain of Western class and policies like the education India possessed was nothing. Anything related to their country was a waste and garbage. That the European culture was everything and it was the only thing that was right.
Like the English literature the language and the content they brought was everything one needed to look intelligent and just by following the Western tradition was the only thing one needed to become smart and face the world.
as if India was not the land to give them with the real knowledge of science with their secret manuscripts. Her Bharat was the land which discovered the reality of this universe by its unimaginable knowledge.
Compelling the young minds to forget their own roots and cultures. And become the puppets of them working in the civil services for those nasty i white hands helping them making the administration more strong so that the great Britain can spread its Glory all around the world. who didnt even knew hat was the psychology behind the indian education system and how it was so vast and complex because only the people worth its value could understand those syllabus and scripts.
making large buildings in city hubbub amid the noises of where the world was in a rush and chaos were unfolding it wasnt a way to gain knowledge in between the solace of forest between the sweet melody those tall trees of deodars produced.
Where the forest hummed sweetly as the dense mesmerizing greenery surrounded the souls like a blanket preventing them to go in the outer noisy busy world trapping them beneath the fragile leaves dancing along the song with the summer wind and despite the heat the sudden change of the weather making the white angry ball of fire disappear behind the dark dense clouds with the cool Breeze making them get to know the depth of clear knowledge palms tingle happily and smile in contentment.
This was what the siksha of gurukul was about.
And that needed to be returned back. The people needed to realise what their ancestors had predicted for their sacred land . What this land was capable of doing and how they have lost their glory over the time as a planned way by the Britishers so as to manipulate them. They had forgotten the true glory of their
" Ram was there" she stopped writing in her journal the orange sheath veil laid across the soft mattress just behind her as her breath hitched in her throat hearing this from her fellow partner.
Thinking of all the worst possibilities and outcomes her mind could come up with. Her brown irises asked for the matter the another female was hesitant in blurting out.
Well familiar with the fact that once she got to know what have happened. She might lose her composure and end up doing something that can cause them alot of trouble and all of the planning all the hard work could be go in vein in a snap of the finger. And the hard work will be wasted in seconds they needed to stand cool sometimes reaction could make everything much worse.
They were rebels. And one careless moment and they would be finished.
" Meera what is it ?" Her voice held seriousness and authority this time a strictness which wasn't visible much because of the role of dual personality she was playing betraying her true self transforming into something else who was completely unknown to her true self. Something she hated behaving like . But these small sacrifices needed to be put in order to provide the freedom they were struggling for.
"He was the one whipping the farmers when the revenue officer complained that he was being soft to HIS people he whipped them until they tested death" Meera's voice came trembling the gentle yet throaty voice was completely transformed into a voice of a freaked out cat after not knowing what the female was going to do after hearing this.
Flinching slightly she managed to peer her dark orbs at the silent solitude of the young woman whose hands held the chair in an unmistakable grip as if imagining the throat of her so called husband.
Her bitter chuckle made another woman gulp in fear as releasing a shuddering breath escaped from her chapped dry lips.
"My dagger ? Did you got it sharped?" The female looked like an Apsara mistakenly fallen on earth As sun did it's best to add more beauty in her gold like skin. The lotus eyes looked balls of fire engulfed by flames.
A Shiver ran down from Meera's spine as he with a shaky hand put the delicate realism drewed dagger on the soft mattress.
Wondering if she was planning to become widow ?
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The winds were so fast and undefeated, opposing the intensity of the Rain and its speed, the downpouring not stopping even for a minute. There was no sign of moon in the dark mysterious invisible sky, just black clouds hiding everything acting like a big blanket. Like protecting the enchanting beauty of the big and hypnotic apperance of moon from the evil eyes.
The street was abandoned, not a mere sight of life, just the lights of street lamps were providing the much needed light and help the needy to find its way to the desired destination without having any more trouble.
shops were closed, water flowed on the slaty gray flat bricks, on the road, washing the dirt and rubbish on its way streaming into the drainage pipes through the narrow passage which were situated at both the ends of the road the mud and dirt mixing with the clean and cold water droplets making it look all clean and fresh.
The young man's footsteps echoed along the voice of the rain and the poem of the earth as his mind pondered over the just events that took place few minutes ago while silently walking in the rain ignoring the stinging pain of rain drops slapping against his tanned skin as if the nature was warning him to follow the right steps and vanish this facade he was holding. Performing since everyday with his rough calloused hands tha now was covered in such thik clot of blood unable to get it cleaned as the crimson now flew in his conscience.
He didn't knew what was happening with him. Somedays he felt everything at once and some days nothing at all. He didn't had any idea what was worse drowning beneath the waves or dying from the thirst. ?
The guilt was too much to handle .
The emotions were too much to understand.
The feelings were too much to even count.
On the other hand he was again in those painful memories that haunted him each day every day provoked him to go further every day. Whenever he stopped, feeling it was all too much to take those words that promise that he made helped him to keep going no matter what happens.
The pain and heart wrenching guilt sometimes got too much that it was confusing what to feel about and what should be laid beyond the misery of his. But who cared anymore ?
He needed to find that gond man and handle him to the British authorities and it will be end soon?
He sighed tapping his foot beneath the wet pebble only the time would tell. His mind ran back to the incident that just took place.
As if the today's torture of gracing his conscience in red crimson with the blood of an innocent harmless farmers wasn't enough.
He disgusted himself. He hated himself and then did more things which made him hate more of himself who even thought he deserved to live ?
And another innocent will be punished just because they dared to raise their voice against unjust.
Flashback..
The morning breeze of the capital layed still in the afternoon sunlight grazing in the over crowded streets of Delhi. The housing chambers having protests all overs due to the absence of governor. In the large hall which led through the huge corridor lightened by the blazing heat as much as it could muster up as it made its way through the black clouds that shielded the sun.
Even being the hall was large and twice as three basket ball courtyard he still felt suffocating as all the air have been knocked out of his puncturing lungs. Breathing was turning hard. Standing there in between these people in their service. Risking their lives.
He felt disgusting and filthy but that needed to be done. After all what more bad could happen with him? The voices echoed in his eardrums piercing through the veins hurted his soul. He felt blow after blow but dare let anything show on his extremely beautiful face. While standing there in between hundreds of whites.
The professional yet throaty voice of Edward Lambert the security officer echoed in the giant hall. As the sepoys the ones who were just there to enjoy show the ones who were being discriminated yet followed orders and the ones who had to serve another nation putting Stone on their heart while watch and be living witnessing their country's down fall.
The chair persons the churchils and governors of Bengal Madras and Bombay being the sub ordinate to the governor of Delhi listened with somewhat annoyance yet showed they cared after all everyone was hungry for power eyeing the throne of Delhi like prey?
But had to maintain that facade to show how much they cared about each other.
"And that's the gist of it we have a hunter targetting the governor roaming free in Delhi we shouldn't be really bothering about imbecile tribes however our good friend the Nizam, thinks they might trouble us and since this conercerns the governor we should act on it and with a good deal of bother "
Edward paused pacing around the wooden platform with somewhat concern evident the lack of melanin in their body didn't even gave them a good eye colour. As he looked at Peterson maculey the governor of Bengal briefly. " Alright Sir we will apprehened this bugger" Martin George the public prosecutor said in a very passionate tone as if trying to show his enthusiasm and loyalty to British Empire.
Edward tilted his head as Martin stood up from his chair his head high in a hope of getting most confidential information his voice again asked " Though I would rather roast this swine on a bed of coals"
The hall which was silent by now erupted into praises as claps echoed in a void of distance irritating Ram's ear more than it ever could his blood boiled like lava as his grip tightening around his wrist. He chanted under his breath to calm himself down. As all praised Martin for his words. Some gave him disgusting and filthy looks looks being a brown Indian soldiers had their own disparity and discrimination.
But who could understand him ?
Edward sat back in his chair with the satisfaction. Adjusting the buttons of his coat as Martin raised his hand "let us have the file sir" he demanded.
Edward leaned forward trailing off all a sudden struggling with the correct choice of words.
" well, yes that's the catch officer we have nothing on him" his lips in a thin line bore a hole in the table and then stared at Martin who gave him a look of disbelief. Twitching his right eye he shifted in his feet .
" You mean nothing?" He asked one more time to confirm if he heard right. Edward scowled looking down as Martin paused and again threw.
" identifying features? Criminal history?" He asked still unsure.
In response the British man leaned onto the table without using any words showing the extreme level of lack of information about the "hunter" they had planned to catch.
Martin who looked way too confident till now turned around and sighed taking his seat back not knowing what to say.
The senior police officer who sat on the other chair of member of chairman turned to look at Edward " it's quite an impossible task"
" how the hell are we supposed to catch him ?" Another person the organiser of the committee immediately added in a helpless and questioning tone.
The room which was echoing in a complete absolute silence under the humid breeze which made Ram's skin itchy and the room was waving in the silence suddenly went feral that could make a normal person hear the sound of the pin falling . Was now replaced by hushed murmurs everyone was beyond shocked and confused that how they didn't had any information regarding this matter.
The police men started talking among themselves asking what kind of thing was happening hushed whispers echoed "Do they expect us to capture a tribal with no criminal history ?" Officer's said to each other.
Until the woman with strawberry blonde hair the wife of governor general scott Catherine who sat on top of the red velvet throne like chair stared at the people. Her wrinkled face showing off her falling age but the evil that masked behind that face was unknown to the best. Her witchy eyes spoke of attitude the way she despised the skin colour brown was beyond any understanding. To shut the mouths she spoke in a loud authoritative voice for every person to hear.
" the one that accomplishes the impossible will be promoted to the. Rank of special officer "
Her voice stated Edward looked at her questioning his ability of hearing Martin, George was completely astonished to hear the set of words coming from Lady Scott. Silence
Complete silence engulfed the whole room. As no one knew what to say.
" do you want him dead or alive ?" A husky voice with thick Indian accent said in a loud manner making a Shiver ran down from their spine. As it held a kind of power in itself. The series of officers who were standing in front of the owner of the voice and Ram came out visible in the gaze of lady Scott.
The ruthless lady eyed him up and down as soon as he came into view.
Based on the perspective either she was checking him out like he was a piece of meal or either like a dirt to crush under her feet just because he was brown and an Indian. The Police head looked at Ram in amusement his eyes wide . Taking a deep breath he made his way to lady Scott and leaned against her shoulder so as to speak slowly.
" I can vouch for this man if anyone can do the job it's him." With that he again made his way to his chair Lady Scott nod barely recognisable her gaze still fixed to an emotionless ram who stood there like a statue waiting for the final orders. Her lips lifted up in a mocking smirk.
"You bring him dead, you recieve a bounty - you bring him alive you will be promoted to special officer" she said in a slow tone words flowed effortlessly from the filthy mouth of hers as Ram's eyes suddenly blazed with a uncombustable flame looking ahead of the world map printed on the front giant Wall. And England's flag printed on the colonised countries and continents he did the salutation. Exploiting those ones as well.
Bitching around the world according to normal mindsets.
For them it was like spreading their glory ? According to their self obsessed mindset.
But for those who were suffering. It was a beginning of a new era.
*. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *. *.
Flashback ends..
When Niyati's feet stepped inside her 'home sweet home' it was already twilight the orange glory spread its beauty in the yamuna as water provided more beauty to the capital. Her steps were so soft that even cottons would be defeated. The drastic change in her personality was wonderous. Just a moment ago the lotus eyes woman was planning to show other's hell and now she walked as if even the ground floor will be in pain. With her head low she closed the door and turned around just to face her very dear husband.
Only the almighty God and she, herself knew how much it took her to lower her gaze and control herself from choking that man standing before her to death, with her head still standing low keeping up with the act of sweet innocent wife she was considered as. She step forward to walk away from his sight. As he never fancied acknowledging her.
The urge to slam him against a wall and kill him right away stabbing him with her now sharped dagger was eating her from inside . Her heart took the pace as Her sweet smell of gandhar Raj and morga was still in the monsoon breeze. The soft and subtle itra danced around the walls of the house. Just when calming down she was about to walk past him too disgusted to even see his face, she halted her pink pastel cotton saree was tugged behind her.
Her lotus eyes widened as if a new flower just bloomed out when she realised her so called husband dared to pull such stunt. Rage was a very small word to describe what she was feeling at that moment. Her heartbeat quickened as she fisted her soft hands against the cotton fabric of her saree kept reminding herself this wasn't the time to kill him. Never in a million years she expected this from someone like him.
He was digging his own grave by doing this. Relaxing her stiff back the black raven hair blew on her face making her huff " the fucking bastard" she thought as she gritted her teeth in fury. Clenching her jaw she closed her eyes shut taking a second before changing her face back to polite, blank face every housewife was expected to wear.
"My pallu -" she trailed off her voice slow hesitant wasn't her she didn't talked like that but she had to as she cringed internally at her own voice that she wanted to dig herself a hole sox feet under.
However much to her surprise, Ram walked past her his steps rushed and wanting to get away her perfectly threaded eyebrows met each other as she frowned but covered it within a blink of an eye. " it's stuck in the drawer" with that he walked away giving her the usual cold shoulder. Niyati's jaw dropped in shock instantly. She looked back and indeed her husband was right and honest. Gritting her teeth, she roughly tugged her pallu in annoyance and fury so hard that a half part were torn too. However she didn't care about that.
All she cared about was to trap this bastard so that she could save her precious motherland her features softener as she thought about those farmers the memory lane went back to those precious people who shed their sweat so that they can have their meal and no one sleeps hungry? However she quickly hid it.
The poor family of them what would they going to do now as the only person who was the soul earner of the family went away.
What would their future going to hold how will they survive in this cruel world? Her eyes welled up as she shook her head she couldn't break right now. She still has to seduce this bastard without seducing him. Letting her messy bun open she quickly gathered those black lucious locks which touched her hips like mohini. She put it in a braid. Washing her hands and tugging the now wrenched pallu against her flat belly.
Rolling her eyes she entered inside the fairly large kitchen. Small mercies of life the kitchen was shining perfectly cleaned. Small mercies of life as none of them had either breakfast or lunch not that she cared about him.
Slowly making mental plans she started to sort her plans for tonight. She was going to make this man regret himself with every fibre of his being for the stunt he pulled and how many innocent lives he took by hook or by crook.
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~ Sinful ♥️
♥️ Yandere!Goddess!Sevika x Preistess!Reader
Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Bondage, Mistress/Servant, Purification through sex, Worship, Strap-on use, Rough vaginal and anal sex, Sadism/Masochism, Spanking, Marking, Overstimulation, Aftercare, Mentionings and Threatens of Murder, Broken bones
Summary: You’re a patronless priestess that gets caught by the Goddess Sevika while having fun with your girlfriend. She doesn’t take too kindly to your disrespect… not when you’re hers.
Word Count: 5311
You slip into the white dress you’ve been wearing for the past four years. You were one of the few patronless priestesses at the Temple of the Isthmus. You hadn’t devoted yourself to a particular God or Goddess of the Pantheon but you attended to all of their shrines. The other priestesses tried to convince you to, but you just smiled and said that you’re content being patronless. Truthfully, you didn’t feel a strong pull towards any of them. The Gods did not encompass your life as they did for the others. The moment your dress came off, you shed away all thoughts of the divine and went about your life. You didn’t allow for your Priesthood to take away your freedom.
As such, no one knew about your personal life. Surely the others would judge you when they learned that you weren’t as pure as they thought. The majority of the priestesses remained virgins because of how dedicated they were to their patrons. You thought it was silly to revoke sex because it might be offensive to your patron. Even Sevika’s priestess chose to remain pure for her patron, although Sevika is the Goddess of Self-Pleasure, Sex, and Desire. You had to stop yourself from snorting when Jenni told you that Sevika valued purity. From the recounts of previous Priestesses that you had read, she encouraged them to delight in it… but, you weren’t one of hers so you couldn’t say for sure.
Although, you had pleasant interactions in Sevika’s offering chamber. The candles would light themselves when you were exhausted and she’d coax you to lay on the bed and rest. Sometimes you’d find decadent sweets waiting for you with a note thanking you for your hard work. Half the time, you’d ramble to the Goddess about your own sex life without meaning to. You’d stutter out an apology when you realize it, but the next day there’d be a note telling you it’s okay and that it’d stay a secret. To you, she was wonderful. Jenni had asked you in the chamber once if Sevika interacted with you. You were going to tell her the truth until the Goddess whispered in your ear and told you not to. So, you shrugged and said that she never acknowledged your presence. You were patronless, there was no reason for the Goddess to pay you any attention. Jenni gleefully agreed, saying that her Goddess wouldn’t give someone else attention and tried to convince you to take a patron but you denied it again.
“Y/n? Babygirl?” You hear your girlfriend call you. You pause in the middle of putting in your earring and turn to the door. Lila comes into the room with an innocent smile that makes you raise an eyebrow.
“Yes, love?” You hum, “What is it?”
“You know that wearable vibrator we tested a few years ago? The one that you said had potential?” Lila says casually. It wasn’t hard for you to remember which one she was talking about. It was the first wearable vibrator you tested with her.
“The one that’s for your clit and your g-spot?” You tilt your head, trying to put your earring in.
“Yup, that one.”
“What about it?”
“We got the completed product at work yesterday.” Lila smiles mischievously, “Along with a matching plug, but it’s not a vibrator.”
“Oh?” You perk up, “We can try it out when I come home later.” You loved to test things with Lila. Her job as a sex column writer kept your lives interesting. She was essentially paid to have sex and write about it. It led you to a lot of new adventures and positions.
“Mmm, no. You’re wearing it all day today.” Lila wraps her arms around your waist, making you pause, “It's been a while since I’ve had you be a little slut for me. Since you started this new job, at least.” She kisses your neck.
“Baby.” You say in warning, “I can’t wear a vibrator at the temple. What if someone finds out?”
“Oh please.” Lila scoffs, “You know it’s silent so no one can hear it, and your dress is long enough that no one will know… Come on, you loved doing it.”
“I still do. I just… I’d never live it down if any of the other Priestesses found out. You know how they are.” You sigh. You wanted to do this with her, excited that your dom wanted to bring back something you liked, but you’re apprehensive. The Priestesses could be quite cruel about doing things differently, which is why you said nothing about your personal life. You knew they’d question if you’re a virgin when they found out about your relationship. If they learned about your kinky inclinations you’d be the talk of the temple, and you didn’t want to be. When you spoke your oaths, there was nothing about you having to remain a virgin. All you had to do was care for the Temple and the Pantheon, and that’s what you did.
“It’s just for today… Please?” Lila begs, caressing your hip through your dress, “Be my sweet little submissive?” She whispers in your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine.
“Okay.” You breathe out, “I’ll do it. You’re right, it has been some time and I do miss it.”
“Yes! I’ll be adding the plug to that.” Lila skips into the closet. You blush knowing that means you’ll have to be careful. There go your plans for today.
“Put them in.” Lila comes back with a box and a velvet bag, “Or you’ll be late.” She winks.
You regretted agreeing to do this the moment Lila turned the vibrator on. She waited until you let her know that you were at work. You were the first priestesses to arrive. The others showed up at 9 am while you arrived at 7 am to prepare everything, so you had time to adjust before they got here. Your phone was tucked away into your locker so you were at her mercy until your shift ends. And, you knew it was going to be torture. You went about your regular duties trying to ignore the vibrator, which got easier as the time passed. Lila kept it at its lowest setting. It was enough to tease you, but it wasn't strong enough to get an orgasm out of you. Your girlfriend knew her limits in this situation and it allowed you to get things done.
You were at the end of your rounds, in the middle of lighting the candles in Sevika’s offering chamber, and deep in thought. You thought it was the grandest out of all of them. A large bed is the centerpiece, decorated in the finest black silk, and covered in rose petals. The room was divided in half by a hot spring pool that filled the air with steam. The only light within the chamber comes from the scented candles, and it gives the room a romantic touch. No one used the bed, as her Priestess didn’t give physical offerings, but it was supposed to be symbolic.
You were kneeling by the bed when the vibrator was turned all the way up. Startled, you’re forced to bite your lip to keep a moan from slipping through. All you can focus on is the pleasure, your hands pressed to the wall to keep you up. You were wetter than you’ve been before and you were thankful that Lilia let you keep your panties on. You weren’t sure how you could manage if she hadn’t. The vibrations died back down but you were left feeling breathless and hornier than you planned.
“Damn it, Lila.” You hiss softly, eyes flicking to the door as you try to collect yourself. With a deep breath, you stand after lighting the final candle. You start making your way to the bridge but freeze when you hear a voice from behind you.
“That’s not the name you should be uttering in this chamber.” A husky, smooth voice growls, “Don’t you know it’s disgraceful to do so, Priestess?” You slowly turn around to see a woman lounging on the bed. Your mouth goes dry when you realize it’s not just any woman… but the Goddess Sevika. Draped in the richest of red gowns with a plunging neckline that has you staring longer than necessary.
“M-My apologies, Goddess.” You stutter out, lowering your head in respect, “I did not intend to do so.”
“Oh, I can tell.” Sevika drawls, “You’re very sinful for a Priestess, aren’t you?”
“W-What do you mean, miss?” You knew that was a stupid question.
“I mean those toys currently stuffed inside of you.” Her words make your head snap up, “Oh, don’t be so shocked. How could I not notice your body begging for sex?” You blush at her words. You were caught by the Goddess of Sex, indulging in your personal pleasure in her chambers. ‘I don’t know what’s worse, her or the priestesses.’
“Forgive me.” You clear your throat, bowing.
“Hmm, and why are you walking around like this?” Sevika gets off the bed and approaches you. Sevika was a Goddess that looked the part in every way. At first glance, you would think she’s the Goddess of War with her rippling muscles and tall stature. Except, the War God did not hold a candle to her image of beauty. Unblemished dark skin, succulent lips covered in onyx, and eyes that could see through you. You swallow hard, shuffling your feet as she gets closer. In all of your years being here, none of the deities graced you with their physical presence. Yet, the one time one of them does, it’s because you’re being disrespectful within their personal chamber. ‘I’m in so much trouble.’
“My partner told me to. We used to do it before I became a Priestess, and I’ve wanted her to be a bit more controlling in our sex life.” You say honestly, “I denied her at first, but… she insisted.” Lila knew how to hit your buttons. She knew what words to say to make you melt. Your sex life hasn’t been as great as it used to be. Lila didn’t want to be rough with you in the way you’ve been desiring. You wanted hand prints on your ass, bruises, and tears streaming down your face as she had her way with you… Your girlfriend did not.
“And her convincing led you to be so disrespectful within my chambers?” Sevika circles you, making you feel small, “Is that what you are, Priestess? A dirty slut? I thought you were supposed to be a holy woman, yet here you are disgracing a Goddess.” Your breathing hitches. Instead of feeling chastised, those words only made the heat worse. This was close to what you wanted Lila to do.
“I can be holy and enjoy the simplest of pleasures.” You try to advocate for yourself, but that’s hopeless in the face of a God. Sevika lets out a deep chuckle that gives you nervous butterflies.
“Don’t lie to me, Y/n.” Your eyes widen as you feel her hot breath on your neck, “I’ve watched that girlfriend of yours defile you every night. I’ve heard you call out her name in the most sinful of tones. How shameful of you. Allowing such a woman to lie with the property of the Gods.” Her tone is dark and angry, but there’s something else underneath it.
“I am not-” Her hand covers your mouth.
“Oh, but you are. You swore, did you not? And while the others remain pure, you forsake your duties.” Sevika’s hand brushes your hair over your shoulder, “So, I’ll have to change that.”
“Change what?” You breathe out, your mind buzzing in disbelief.
“I’ll have to make you pure again.” Sevika purrs and the next thing you know, you’re laid out on the bed. You gasp, looking up to see your hands tied above your head with silk. The top of your dress is lowered, allowing your breasts to pop out since you didn’t wear a bra. Startled, you glance down at your body to see the skirt is bunched up around your hips. Your thighs are tightly tied with the same silk to remain open with nothing obstructing you. From the feeling of the cold air against you, you’re well aware that your panties are gone.
A deep blush covers your face when you make eye contact with Sevika, who’s standing at the foot of the bed. She reaches forward and pulls out the vibrator without care. You are exposed to the air, making you internally groan at the feeling. The vibrator vanishes, but you don’t have time to say anything as she does the same with your plug. You feel empty and you can’t help but miss your toys.
“Miss. Whatever punishment you’ll have me do, I’ll take it but this isn’t necessary.” You squeak, feeling embarrassed. You are on full view for her and she is shamelessly admiring the sight.
“I can renew my oath- AH!” A wet slapping sound fills the air as you jolt in pain. Your eyes go wide realizing that she just hit your cunt.
“You dare talk back to me, slut?” Sevika hisses.
“N-No, Miss.” You whimper, feeling your submissive side coming through.
“A filthy slut like you doesn’t deserve to be graced with my presence. Be grateful that I’ve chosen to purify you myself.” Sevika growls, positioning herself between your legs.
“It’s an honor.” You agree with her immediately, “I-I’m just not sure why you’d waste your time on me?” You question tentatively, afraid to make her more upset.
“I’ve been watching you, dove.” Her fingers caress the inside of your thigh, “So beautiful, so dignified… I’d hoped you’d pledge yourself to me, but you didn’t.” Her grip turns painful, making you wince.
“I looked past that because you didn’t pledge to anyone. You continued to enter my chambers and tease me with your presence. Such a sweet dove just out of my reach.” Sevika sighs wistfully, “Until I heard you utter another’s disgusting name.” Her steel eyes hold yours captive as a mixture of horror and arousal floods through you. ‘She’s been watching me? This whole time? I thought- I didn’t think she would be. I didn’t think any of the Gods would be! And she’s witnessed Lila and me having sex?!’ You were mortified. You thought you had been doing so well keeping your job and personal life separate, but that wasn’t true.
“How dare you utter another’s name!” Sevika snarls and once again her hand hits your exposed cunt, “How dare you allow another to defile you!” The stinging pain is a reminder of your position. You’re a servant of the Gods, and right now would be a good time to remember that.
“I’m sorry!” You cry out, “I-I wasn’t aware! I never would have if I knew, Miss- Mistress! I wouldn’t pass up your affections!” The words leaving your mouth are partly out of desperation, but mainly out of arousal. You have an angry Goddess between your legs and are completely at her mercy. The thought of that, along with what she’s been doing, are things that turn you on. You’re sure she’s doing this on purpose after admitting that she watched you and Lila. Besides, you couldn’t hide your kinks from this Goddess. Placating her would be in your best interest if you wanted to stay in one piece.
“I know, dove.” Sevika coos, rubbing your cunt to soothe the sting, “I’m going to purify you and make you my loyal Priestess, hm? Don’t worry, you’ll forget all about her when I’m done.” You part your lips wanting to deny her. To tell her that you weren’t going to choose a patron, that you wouldn’t forget your lover’s name, but the look in her eyes made you hesitate. She gazed at you with a lovingly possessive stare, one similar to what Lila would give you when she was in dom headspace, except this was worse. She looks at you as if you are hers, in every sense of the word.
Sevika didn’t give you time to say anything, either. The moment your lips parted, she was burying her strap in you. The groan that leaves her lips is a satisfied one. Like the sound you’d make after coming home to lie with your lover after a long day. You cry out at the sudden fullness, your pussy welcoming the feeling while you were taken aback. You were so wet from the vibrator that it didn’t matter if she prepared you or not. She slipped in with no resistance.
“So soaked and it’s not even for me.” Sevika huffs, pulling out, “No matter. You’ll learn.” She hums before slamming back into you. You arch your back from the pain, crying out as she does. You thought the pain would settle after the first few but it doesn’t. Each thrust is as bruising as the last, jolting your body in her hold.
“Mistress, please!” You plead with her, “It hurts!” You loved the pain but this was more than you could handle. You didn’t think you could find your limit, but this was it.
“The pain is the price you pay, dove. Don’t you want to be purified? Don’t you want to worship me with your very soul?” Sevika purrs into your ear, her teeth sinking into your neck to leave painful hickeys, “Cry out for me some more. Let me hear those pretty sounds.” It hurt and she was enjoying it. You couldn’t help but remember what Jenni told you. That Sevika was a cruel lover, but you knew she didn’t mean it literally when she said it. You, on the other hand, meant it that way.
“At least grant me your gentleness, Goddess! Please! I’ll do anything, please!” You choke out, hot tears gathering in your eyes.
“My gentleness? No, no, dove. I want you to cry for me. This is your punishment.” She says darkly, grinding her strap into you, “You’re filthy. Tainted. And I have to fuck it out of you.”
With that, you screamed out her name as your orgasm was forced out of you. You were horribly turned on by what she was doing. You had begged Lila to be this rough with you, but she said no from the fear of hurting you. Yet, here you were, underneath a Goddess who was giving you the very thing you craved. It was a strange duality, your feelings towards your current predicament. You felt as though this shouldn’t be happening, but you were drinking it in. You loved the treatment she was giving you, if only it was from Lila.
Sevika forced more orgasms out of you, switching between cooing loving things and degrading you, and it sent you tumbling into sub-space. You felt like you were floating, your mind a haze and all you could think about was her all you needed was more of her. Most of the time, her eyes stayed locked with yours, taking in your facial expressions and the dazed look in your eyes. You lost count of how many orgasms she gave you but you were feeling sensitive and overstimulated. You nearly sobbed in a mixture of relief and need when she pulled out. Relief that she was done but missing the fullness her strap gave you. Sevika pressed a kiss to your lips and muttered how good you were being for her. You tugged on your restraints in a futile effort to touch her.
“Please, Mistress.” You whimper wantingly, “Please don’t go.” Sevika tsks and you flinch, fearing that you upset her. She leans in to caress your hair, kissing you in a tender way that’s wildly different from a few minutes ago. You find yourself staring into her eyes - molten silver - that hold nothing but love for you.
“Not yet, dove.” Sevika whispers and she snaps her fingers. You squeal as you suddenly find yourself face down on the sheets. Your hands are tied behind your back, while you’re on your knees in a very familiar position - downward dog.
“I know this is your favorite position. You always ask for it.” Sevika’s hands caress your bare hips, your dress was torn off at some point, “I hope you’ll love doing this with me, dove.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. The fire was reignited in your abdomen even though you knew you were tired. Was this her doing? You don’t know what her power entails, but you whine as the need for her inside of you comes alive. When you feel the head of the strap press against you, you push back as much as the restraints allow you. You’re rewarded with a chuckle, “Eager, dove? Then let's not waste any time.”
You have to force yourself to relax although you’re tense with anticipation. You take in a deep breath as she slowly slides in, feeling a little pain from the stretch. The strap was slicker than your cum would have made it so you sigh in relief knowing that she lubed it up. You lay there for a bit, Sevika leaving kisses along your spine as she waits for your body to adjust. You idly think that you’ll be covered in marks by the end of this. The first thrust has you breathing heavily, but it’s not long before you’re swimming in pleasure once more. Sevika’s trusts are rough and hard but surprisingly don’t push past your limits. You find yourself actually relaxing underneath her, gripping at the silk within your reach as you focus on your breathing. That is… before her hand comes down on your ass. You yelp as your ass stings in pain with the sound of the slap echoing through the room.
“You don’t get to relax, dove.” You hear her hum, “You’re going to count each one, or we’ll start all over again.”
“Yes, Mistress.” You moan, as she massages where she hit you. You’re not sure how long it is, but you get to fifty after a few orgasms force you to start over. Sevika stops when you reach fifty, massaging your sore ass with a laugh. You flush, wondering what she’s laughing at as the silks vanish and you’re lowered to the bed. Sevika scoops you up into her arms as you come down from your high and start sobbing.
“Shhh, shhh, dove. It’s okay.” She rubs your back. You cling to her, desperately craving some kind of affection and she gives that to you. Sevika holds you close to her, stroking your hair and even giving you soft kisses. You lay there in her arms as she comforts you until you’re starting to feel better.
“Why?” You whisper, “Why me?”
“Why?” Sevika brushes her thumb over your lips, “Because I love you. You have been more devoted to me than my own Priestess. Lighting the candles, cleaning the room, leaving me offerings of sweets, and asking if I’ve had a pleasant sleep. All without expecting a response. How could I not fall in love with you, dove? Especially after witnessing how passionate you are as a lover. I wanted you. I wanted you from the moment you swore your oath.”
“But, Jenni told me you value a virgin Priestess?” You furrow your brow. Sevika bursts into laughter pressing your face into her breasts as she does. You blush as she looks down at you with a wide grin.
“I don’t care if you’re a virgin. I care if you’re sleeping with others that are not me.” Her tone darkens as she gives you a serious stare, “When you’re my Priestess, you’re mine in entirety. I’ll keep you satisfied as long as you worship me, but I will not have you defiled by someone unclean.” She hisses and everything makes sense to you. The gifts, the notes, her lulling you to sleep when you knew you shouldn’t.
“You want me to be your Priestess.” You state, staring into her eyes.
“You will be my Priestess.” Sevika asserts.
“Yes, Goddess. I will become your Priestess.” You bow your head.
“Good girl.” Sevika purrs, grabbing your chin, “You will announce this at lunch and return to me immediately after you’ve eaten. I expect that woman of yours to be gone by the end of the day. I am your only lover and if I must show you my love by killing her, I will.” You take a shaky breath knowing that she isn’t joking. You’d have to have a serious discussion with Lila now that you’re in this position. You didn’t want the woman you love to be struck down by a vindictive Goddess.
“Yes, Goddess.”
“When you’re in my presence, you will call me Mistress. You will wear whatever I give you, regardless of how revealing it may be. During the Solstice, you will sit in my lap. I don’t care about whoever you’re in front of, even if it’s the other Gods. You will worship me.” Sevika whispers before bringing your lips to hers.
Every step you take makes the pain in the lower half of your body flair up. It felt like you were doing the walk of shame, and the hickeys littering your neck only made that feeling worse. Your hair was strategically placed to hide the ones your dress couldn’t, but you knew it wouldn’t hide them for long. So, as you slip into the room the Priestesses use to eat in, you feel as though you want to throw up. This went from being a fun day with your girlfriend to you being railed by a Goddess and then told she owns you. You were all in your emotions, mourning the fact that you’ll have to break up with Lila and nervous about telling Jenni that she’s being forced to abdicate her role. ‘This is all because I wore a vibrator.’ You swallow down a hysterical laugh as you grab your lunch and take a seat at the table with three of the girls.
“Afternoon, girls.” You greet them, noting that it’s your regular group.
“Afternoon, Y/n.” They chorus.
“Where have you been?” Quinn - Ambessa’s Priestess - questions.
“Ah, I lost track of time while cleaning the chambers.” You smile.
“Speaking of the chambers, did you hear what happened to Jenni?” Alice leans in conspiratorially, making the Vi tattoo on her cheek stand out.
“No?” You and the others look at each other in confusion, but your heart starts to race. ‘What happened to Jenni? Did she overhear what happened? Did she see?!’
“When she went to Sevika’s Chamber, the door was gone. Prayers didn’t work, offerings didn’t work and she freaked out.” Alice whispers.
“What?!” Lisa gasps with a giggle, “So she’s being evicted?” She puts her head on her hand. ‘That’s why she’s Jinx’s Priestess. Thriving off of the drama.’ You snort.
“Shhh.” Alice glares, “She’ll hear you and start crying again.” She motions to the table next to you and you feel the blood drain from your face. Jenni is a mess. Her makeup was smudged from the tears, her hair falling out of its bun, and even her dress was rumpled. You anxiously chew on your lip with the weight of Sevika’s words settling on your shoulders. You knew you’d have to announce it soon, but you hoped to dismiss Jenni privately. There was an inherent shame in being released by your patron versus leaving on your own. Being released meant that you weren’t doing your duties to keep them satisfied and they didn’t want you anymore. Ambessa and Jinx were notorious for that, but their current Priestesses have lasted longer than the others. So, you wanted to save her from the shame of it.
“I wonder who is more devout than she is?” Quinn ponders, “Jenni was very committed to her patron. She would come early to light the candles in the chamber.” You blink in surprise. ‘Wait, but I did that…’ A scream fills the room and you snap your head to Jenni. Your eyes widen as the red of her dress bleeds away, leaving white in its wake.
“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Jenni screams, gripping her dress tightly, “PLEASE DON’T FORSAKE ME!” She falls to her knees with a wail and other Priestesses scramble away from her. You shoot out of your seat and approach the circle with the others. ‘No, No, No! I was going to do this quietly! You said I was supposed to announce it!’ You protest Sevika’s actions, but you can’t look away from the tragedy in front of you. Jenni’s wrist is in full view as the tattoo of her ex-patron’s name fades and everyone breaks out into whispers.
She’s been evicted.
What did she do to displease Sevika?
Sevika must be pissed.
Do you think she’ll kill her for whatever she did as Ambessa did?
You don’t think Sevika would do that? Do you?
Who’s the new Priestess?
Is there a new Priestess?
Sevika has never had a vacant spot.
She never evicted a Priestess, either.
You swallow hard and step forward, drawing all of the attention to yourself. You approach Jenni and help her off of the floor, guilt curling in your stomach. You straighten out her dress, brush her hair back and give her a hug. It was your fault she was hurting, even if she didn’t know it yet. You step back and turn towards the other Priestesses who are giving you curious looks. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress.
“I am Sevika’s new Priestess.” You announce, standing up straight. Feeling strangely proud at being able to say those words.
“W-What?” Jenni stutters.
“I’m sorry, Jenni.” You give her a sympathetic smile. Before anyone could demand that you prove it, your dress started to turn red at the bottom as the top became a sweetheart neckline. You suck in a breath as all of the hickeys on your chest come into view. To your surprise, your gifted dress is an extravagant red and gold that you swore you saw in a wedding dress catalog one day. Your hand flies up to your collarbone where you feel her name is being tattooed onto your skin.
“CALLED IT!” Lisa cheers and high-fives Quinn.
“You took her from me?!” Jenni snarls and the next thing you know your head is jerked to the side. Gasps fill the room as you touch your stinging cheek.
“Jenni, I-” You freeze as a dark aura fills the room.
“You dare lay a disgusting hand on my dove?” You hear Sevika whisper menacingly. You blink and jump when you see her gripping Jenni’s wrist tightly, a dark glare on her face. Jenni looks horrified at the sudden appearance and you rush forward, wrapping your arms around Sevika's waist.
“Don’t hurt her.” You plead, “Please, Mistress. You’ve shamed her enough.”
“Clearly, I haven’t.” She responds coldly, one arm holding you in place. A loud crack and a pained scream comes from behind you, making you wince.
“No one touches my dove. Not even you.” Sevika growls, “Be thankful she wishes no pain onto you. If I had it my way, you’d be dead right there on the floor.” You squeeze your eyes shut as Sevika kisses you fiercely. You’ve been claimed by the Goddess and she was letting everyone know. You are going to be the talk of the temple for weeks, especially with the possessive way she grabs your hips. Yet, deep down, you were thrilled knowing that she could satisfy you. And maybe she was right… as your body flushes with need once more you can’t help but think you are a bit sinful for a Priestess.
Arcane Masterlist
#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#sevika x you#sevika arcane#sevika smut#goddess#nsft#sinful#yandere#obsession
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PaperHat Wip
(505 is tortured, read at your own discretion)
The bear roared in pain at the first spill of the acid sprayed onto him. The concuction sizzled as it moved quickly in deteriorating the fur and running down to the skin and bone in a matter of seconds. Once it reached the muscle underneath, it started to spread slowly in its parameter. The sensation burned 505, who roared in anguished as it seeped down. He flailed his arm around, trying to cease the pain but to no avail in helping.
The men that surrounded his cage laughed, watching 505 try to get away from his own deteriorating arm. He would hit the bars with a clang every now and then and wail for help that wasn't coming.
"No!"
Flug found a way to rip himself away from the goon holding him down. He pushed forward to reach for the bottle of acid at the hands of the enemy but was suddenly tackled back down by the same man. Gasping in pain, he tried to struggle only to have the man place his knee on his neck.
"Enough Gilligan, pick him up." The Commanders voice boomed.
He inhaled immediately, blinking the white spots from his vision as he was forced back onto his feet. The man known as Gilligan kept a hold of his wrists behind his back, and the other kept a good hold on the metallic collar on his neck.
"Now, Doctor, I have a preposition for you."
He aimed the spray bottle back at the cage to 505. Flugs eyes widened in fear as he tried to push forward once more. He could hear Demencia in her own cage trying to escape. Even when her mouth was covered, he could hear her muffled screams.
"Don't hurt him!" Flug pleaded. "505 is innocent and has nothing to do with any of this!"
505 had gone quiet with silent sobs as he shook in pain, trying to claw the floor of his cage. Flug kept his eyes attentively on his creation-his son - trying to think of anything that he could use to heal him quickly before anything spread to any vitals.
The Commander kept his arm extended, aiming at 505. His eyes never wavered from the scientist as he tsk'd in disappointment.
"Oh, but Dr.Flug, he has everything to do since you created him with the wretched elderitch beings' blood." he spat out, snapping his eyes to look at Blackhat, who stood in his own special cage behind the scientist.
Flug shook as his stomach churned. He could feel himself sweating as his heart ran a mile away from him.
No one other than Blackhat himself knew the truth about 505's creation. It had taken so many sleepless nights and much back and forth to get the biochemicals to bond with the elderitch's DNA. It was a risk, but the end results ended with an indestructible failure that Flug would rather die than get rid of.
505 was the closest thing to a son Flug will ever have in his life.
To know that someone had constructed some form of concoction that truly hurt his boy was a nightmare to realize.
"-and because he is of blood of Blackhat, he must be destroyed." the Commanders voice got lower as he sprayed once more for 505's wounded arm.
Flugs heart jumped to his throat in pure panic as 505 yowl in agony as he threw himself around the cage. The man once more started to howl in sadistic enjoyment. The Commanders eyes glinted with pure joy as he watched the scientist struggle to get closer.
"Stop! He is innocent-he's harmless! He would never hurt anyone -" he sprayed once more, "N-NO 505!!"
The Commander was enjoying the chaos he was causing. He took delight in the screams of the bear, the laughter of his men, and over all the stricken pain in the doctors voice as he pleaded for him to cease.
Flug watched through teary eyes as 505 tried to scratch his arm off, wanting the torment to end. His dark blue blood squirted out and matted with his light fur through the process. His eyes looked feral with shed tears as he roared his lungs out.
Demencia covered her face, watching in silent horror as her own tears streamed down.
Blackhat kept his face devoid of any emotion as he watched the suffering bear and his struggling scientists. His hands tightened around the bar handles at every plea he heard Flug give as the Commander kept spraying on the same spot.
After a while, 505's right arm plopped to the floor with a thud, and immediately, so did the bear who heaved trying to catch his breath.
"P-please, I'll do anything. Just please leave him alone." he sobbed out, watching his son stop fighting the deterioration as that still continued onto his upper part of his arm. If he didn't act quickly it would be too late.
"Hmm...Anything, Doctor?" Commander made a wave with his hand, which was some form of sign to Gilligan to let him go and threw him to the floor.
"Y-yes! Just leave him alone!" He stood up looking at the man in front of him.
"Take the bag off."
"W-what!-
The moment of hesitation was all the Commander needed to maneuver the bottle and aim for 505s left leg next.
Another loud shriek erupted from 505 as he continued with his thrashing in his small cage. Flugs heart squeezed in guilt.
"Stop stop I'll do it!!"
And so the bag was off and between his trembling hands.
Everyone stared. No one but the wailing bear made a peep.
One of the men finally broke the silence by whistling loud enough to break the spell before he burst out in a bout of laughter and pointed at Flugs face.
"Oh my God,he is fucking adorable, ha!"
Flug swallowed as he kept his golden eyes on the Commander, who couldn't look away from him either.
"N-now leave 505 alone." he demanded.
The Commander gave the bottle to the closest goon as he walked close to him. He raised a hand to grab a freckled cheek and squeeze. "Huh?"
Flug didn't make any sudden movement as that hand raised to grab his disheveled curly brown hair. He let the man be distracted with him if it meant he would stop.
As if enraptured with pulling the coils and watching them spring back up through his fingers, the Commander started to mumbled. "You are younger than I thought, Doctor.."
Flug ignored him as he looked at the bottle and then at 505. The bear was heaving as he laid on the far corner away from his dismembered arms, now only muscle and bone. His eyes hazy with new tears looking tired of fighting the inevitable. Fur matted and dirtied with his own blood and sweat.
Flugs stomach dropped at the sight of the extended leg that was affected. He had aimed under the knee cap, and it was deteriorating faster than the arm.
It didn't look like 505 would last any longer..
"Just let me work on him, and I won't run."
The hand around his hair stilled. Grey cold eyes snapped down at him.
Flug swallowed as he clenched his first to prepare himself for his next words.
"I-I will do anything,j-just let me heal 505."
The Commander hmmm'd in contemplation before grabbing a huge amount of hair and putting force to push Flug down.
Flug hissed in pain, trying to pull himself free.
"Kneel." he commanded.
There were small snickers around them as he was forced down onto his knees. He was forced to look up at the burly man who looked down at him with an unreadable look.
Blackhat growled in the background.
"Now," he smirked down at the younger man, "Pledge yourself to me Dr.Flug."
"Don't you FUCKING DARE FLUG!!" Blackhat roared in anger.
Flug stayed quiet as he stared at the Commander. The light fixtures behind him make it hard to see his face.
"FLUG!!" Blackhat growled, making him jump. He tried to turn to look at his boss, but the hand holding his hair pulled him back to face up.
His mouth quivered knowing what would happen if he did.
Pledging himself to anyone else other than his boss would null his soul binding contract with him and could possibly kill him.
The Commander cocked his head to the side as he waited patiently.
"I-I-I..."
The small, painful whine snapped his attention back to his bear. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of his creation - his son, his 505, slumped on the corner looking worse by the second. His little yellow flower seem to be paling and wilting as one by one the petals started to fall around his snout.
His son watched him with tired eyes and still tried to give a reasuring smile to his terrified father. He was still looking out for Flug while he himself slowly died.
"I p-pledge myself to you Commander-
"FLUG YOU IMBECILE!!!"
Demencia was taken out of her cage by her hair. The giant woman held her dangling in the air as the lizard mutant curses of pain were muffled.
The giant muscular woman holding her snickered. "Now by default she is ours to Blackie!"
They all hollered as she yanked harder, watching the mutant try to escape her. They stared with hungry eyes.
Blackhat trashed.
Flug kept his eyes down as his now ex-boss cursed him out until he was electrocuted. They kept laughing louder at the loud shriek. The elderitch snarled, trying to get back up, which seemed futile as they kept tasing him for entertainment.
"Aw look at him, it's like he cares AHAHA!"
Flug turned, only to be held up in the air by Gilligan once more. His hands seem to roam up under Flugs shirt.
"Take them to the quarters and drop the bear and the demon down to the basement together." The Commander shouted.
One of the scruffy men pushing Blackhats cage hollered at the demon.
"Who would have thought that the great Blackhat was such a dog! A bitch of a babe and a cute twink! Ha you wouldn't mind if we share'em do yah pal?"
The only response was a growl as he tried to move. Any success ended with him only getting electrocuted once more.
#paperhat#writing#villainous#my wips#i dont sleep#so this is something thats in my head but idk if i will put out the rest.
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Lost In Echoes pt. 3
Content: cussing, violence, kidnapping, mark in a trap, reader in a trap, reader unfairly tested, chemicals
Acid trap was inspired by the film Funhouse.
It's been three weeks since Mark revealed his biggest secret to you, his true self. Despite what that truth is, you love him for being honest with you and trusting you with something like that. You're not sure if you're okay with it. He is still trying to help you understand why he tests people. You sort of understand, but you're still a bit skeptical about all of it.
On one night in particular, you decide to run to the store for a snack. You can't sleep, so you've sat up binge watching your favourite show. Mark isn't home, and he isn't returning your calls, so you're a bit worried. You convince yourself not to freak out. You slowly get dressed, grab your car keys, and head out into the cold, foggy night. As you unlock your car, you don't notice the dark figure creeping up behind you. The last thing you remember is an arm around your neck, followed by a sharp pain right below your ear.
Everything goes black.
You awaken in a dark room, with a single light shining on you, strapped to a hard metal chair. Scared, you look around. You're groggy, not sure at first what's happening. As you come to, you realise what might be going on, and you hope it isn't true. Pulling at the restraints and screaming, your voice echoes off the concrete walls. You're fully dressed except for your shoes and socks, the hard floor cold on your feet.
You hear a door open and shut behind you, heavy and metallic.
"Hello, y/n," comes a gruff voice from behind you. You know that voice. Mark's played the tapes for you in the weeks since revealing he was working with John Kramer. Oh my god, Mark, you think, where is he?
"I want to play a game," the voice continues. Your blood runs cold. You hear a switch flick on, and a bright light floods the room from the high ceiling. You look across the room with wide eyes, and you see a naked Mark, hanging from his wrists above his head, waist deep in a chemical container that appears to be filled with water. A clear tube leads from the tank to a container next to it, labeled SbHF6.
"MARK!!!" You scream. He looks so scared, looking at you.
"Help me... please, y/n... oh god," he cries.
The man walks from behind you, revealing himself to be none other than John Kramer. He turns to Mark.
"Detective Hoffman," he says, "you of all people should know how crucial it is to keep certain information from the public. And yet, you tell her. I don't know this person. How do i know she can be trusted? Consider this a test of her loyalty to you. But dont worry. I'm not going to kill her. This is her test, but you are the subject."
"Fuck you, John! This is too far!" Mark spits, thrashing around in the water. John turns to you.
"You've seen my work. You know about acid and the devastating affects it can have on one's body."
You stare at him with pure hate in your eyes.
"Flouroantimonic acid is the most corrosive acid on this planet when it comes into contact with water. Unless you want your boyfriend to be dissolved into nothing, you'll follow my instructions. All you have to do... is climb the ladder," he points to a ladder clinging to the wall, 70 feet at least, you guesstimate, "and press the button at the top. And Mark will be free."
He begins to untie you from the chair.
"But be careful," he continues, "the razor wire and barbed wire will slice you to shreds."
"Fuck you! You can't do this to us!" You yell.
"If you fail to press the button before the timer is up, Mark will die. Slowly and painfully. You have ninety seconds. How much blood will you shed to save his life? Make your choice."
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writober 2023 | DAY FIVE · mutual pining
To Helmeppo, Koby is the sun, blinding.
He can hardly stand looking at him, at times; it gets too much.
He cannot make sense of it, really. He does not understand where the hell all that light comes from.
He remembers with a certain fondness the days when he found it annoying. When he looked at his pink-haired colleague and thought, oh, spare me. Spare me the spectacle. Leave me in the dark.
But Koby is nothing if not persistent, and Helmeppo is nothing if not a liar. So, as one kept on shining, pure white glow blurring the edges of his frame, the other clung to him. Like a dying man clings to his last breath.
If Koby is the sun, then, that must make Helmeppo the moon.
Whatever brightness he possesses, whatever light he sheds, if any, he knows exactly where it comes from. It’s a reflection, a replica. He steals it from Koby and pretends it’s his, so that he might feel closer to him. A twin star.
Truth is, they are nothing alike. And truth is, Koby has his own sun to squint at, to recklessly reach for, uncaring of its potential to melt skin, turn bone into dust.
Helmeppo has tried to hate Luffy for it. He’s tried to resent him, like he’s sure many people have, albeit for different reasons. But he has this aura about him that makes it really hard to, and though Helmeppo has turned into quite the fighter, he has also learned to pick his battles. For as much as he wishes he could, at the end of the day he can’t bring himself to truly dislike Luffy, even when he fantasizes about a world where his body has a light-switch somewhere, or something to dim the brightness, at least.
“Where are you?”
Helmeppo feels a finger poke his side and looks down at Koby, who’s lying with his head on his lap in this corner of beach they’ve cut out for themselves. They’re off-duty, it’s late and none of them could sleep, though that’s another lie; Helmeppo is tired, his body aches and the sound of the waves is minutes away from lulling him into the sweetest of dreams.
“I’m here, what do you mean?”
He stretches his back as he says it, arches it, rolls his neck. His eyelids drop closed as he sighs in relief, but he frowns as he feels the weight of Koby shifting away from him.
“You’re miles away. I asked you a question and you didn’t even notice,” Koby says.
Helmeppo furrows his brow.
“What was the question, again?”
He feels a pair of small, oddly soft hands on his shoulders. Lets his head fall backwards a little as they start kneading away the accumulated tension.
Koby chuckles.
“I didn’t ask anything,” he admits. “But you proved my point.”
Helmeppo elbows him softly in the stomach. He smiles. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“It’s okay,” Koby says, as he keeps working his muscles loose.
·
“You know I like you, right?”
Koby’s words float around them and land nowhere in particular. They simply fly away, transported by the wind to be heard by the wrong person, one that wouldn’t care, one that isn’t waiting for them. Then again, maybe Helmeppo isn’t either. Maybe that’s why they don’t reach him.
He glances up and his friend is staring at the moon, having a conversation with her that Koby cannot eavesdrop on, no matter how hard he tries.
He digs his finger in his side to catch his attention.
“Where are you?” he asks.
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Heard somewhere that Dragons shed their horns sometimes and this is Pure Vanilla’s reaction to seeing it for the first time.
Also:
Pure Vanilla Cookie: God of Life, Truth, Life after Death and Light.
Finally got to making Pure Vanilla’s design for the Ancients are Gods AU. I was gonna make a lazy version but decided, meh why the frick not?
If the shading sucks, that’s just me.
Different version under the cut:
@boneasin
@beatrixblog
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We Are Heavenly Swans (Hansas) Journeying Back to the Beloved
"He, who carries on the practice of the true Sound,
Beholds the Truth from the beginning to the end
within his body.
By realizing the true Sound with rapt attention,
He attains the status of a pure swan.
Such a devotee reaches the Immortal Abode,
And there he sees mysterious and wondrous sights." (Sant Dariya Sahib)
My Commentary: The image of the swan is used in poetry and hymns of Sants to represent the soul, a heavenly being of Light, a hamsa. In Sant Mat Mysticism the hamsa or hansa is a soul that has been baptised in the Lake of Nectar and finds Its Original Nature restored — then it continues it’s upward ascent eventually reaching the Fifth Plane or Sat Lok. The Sants (souls have that reached the Fifth Plane or Above and are in Union with God) have composed, and continue to compose, descriptions of the Inner Regions, usually in the form of hymns (kirtans, banis, bhajans) and mystic-poems, including about hansas in Sat Lok or Sach Khand (True Eternal Realm of Timeless Pure Spirit). We are all hansas or hansas-to-be as we journey back to the Beloved, the Ocean of Love and Oneness.
We are destined to become Hansas — Birds of Heaven
A Hansa is…
Hansa: A white swan; esoterically, a soul purified by Shabd [the Holy Stream of Light and Sound]. In Indian spiritual literature, a hansa is symbolic of grace and purity; it is believed that the natural drink of a swan is milk or nectar (amrit), and its natural food is pearls, diamonds and rubies, which signify Shabd. It is further believed that the beak of a swan has the unique ability to drink milk (nectar) after filtering out the dirty water or poison of maya with which it is mixed. As long as a soul is conditioned by karma and dominated by mind and matter, it is an ugly crow. Its transformation into a swan begins in Daswan Dwar, where, in the process of its spiritual enlightenment, it sheds its gross coverings. The process culminates in Sach Khand, the region of immortality. Soami Ji generally refers to all souls in Daswan Dwar and beyond as hansas, but he has also occasionally used the term for devoted disciples who are on their way to becoming swans.
O Swan-Soul, Where Are You Going?
Swan, I’d like you to tell me your whole story!
Where you first appeared, and what dark sand you are going toward,
and where you sleep at night, and what you are looking for…
It’s morning, swan, wake up, climb in the air, follow me!
I know of a country that spiritual flatness does not control,
— nor constant depression,
and those alive are not afraid to die.
There, wildflowers come up through the leafy floor,
and the fragrance of “I am He” floats on the wind.
There the bee of the heart stays deep inside the flower,
and cares for no other thing.
-- Version by Robert Bly, The Kabir Book, Beacon Press
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Deadline: March 1st – May 1st, 2024
Payment: $50
Theme: Writing that attempts to salvage something pure from the collision of warmth and cold, that says what it can about the world it finds itself in.
A Note on Our Aesthetic
We believe there is beauty in scars on smooth skin, in the small fissures where things begin to break apart. Sundogs are not the sun itself but phantom stars appearing on the horizon, illusions produced by the play of the sun’s heat with crystals of ice. They shed their light all the same. Many are tinged with color.
We look for this same quality in poetry, fiction, and nonfiction. We want writing that attempts to salvage something pure from the collision of warmth and cold, that says what it can about the world it finds itself in. We seek a diversity of voices speaking from visceral, lived experience. We like truth we can stare at until our eyes water, words so carefully chosen we want to reread them as soon as we have finished.
Schedule
We publish two issues a year, September 1 and March 1. We accept general submissions for poetry, nonfiction, and fiction between two reading periods, and the first 300 submissions to each are free. We also run a collaborative writing contest in August. We also accept visual art all year.
General Submissions: March 1 – May 1
General Submissions: October 1 – December 1
Collaboration Contest: July 15 – August 31
Payment
We are thrilled to finally be able to say that, starting with issue 17, we will be able to offer our contributors a small payment of $50 upon publication.
Practical Matters
We are grateful to be a part of a literary community that is taking action against systemic racism. We will also be donating submission fees from our current reading period towards Black-led organizations and anti-racist collectives. In the next year, 25% of our submission fees will be donated, as well. Thank you in advance for helping us work together for change.
The best way to know the preferences of our individual editors is to read the journal. Our genre editors also take over our Twitter from time to time to discuss work we’ve published and why. Check it out at #editortalk.
Sundog Lit is serious about representing the literary scene and supporting diverse and underrepresented voices. We want to hear from women, people of color, queer and trans writers, and every community who pushes our world away from the oppressive status quo. This is our commitment to literature; hold us to that standard.
One submission at a time, please. We happily accept simultaneous submissions, though please withdraw immediately if accepted elsewhere. If part of a packet submission, note the withdrawal in a note on Submittable. We do not consider previously published material nor do we accept email submissions. Please address your submission to the appropriate genre editor, and be mindful of correct pronoun usage in your cover letter.
Genre Specifics
Summer Collaboration Contest
Writing doesn’t have to be a lonely business. Sometimes teamwork is what makes the dreamwork, so this summer we want to see what you’ve created with another writer (or two or three — there’s actually no limit) for our annual Collaboration Contest. Between July 15 and August 31, submit your wildest, most inventive work of any or mixed genre. Just keep your hybrid masterpiece to 1,000 words or less. Winners will receive a $300 prize and all the glories of publication.
Refractions
For our blog, we accept short-form work that fits a given topic or theme that asks you to see–and write about–familiar things differently. We want you to play with perspective. A little distortion, in our opinion, is a good thing. Please check Submittable for the current prompt, which we will change up on a quarterly basis.
Fiction
We want muscular prose, authenticity, and a real beating heart. Play with form and show us the humorous absurd. Submit short stories of no more than 3,000 words or up to 3 flash fictions of less than 750 words each in a single document.
Nonfiction
We are cool with traditional personal essay, memoir, etc. We LOVE us some experimental, research-driven stuff. Segmented. Lyric. Essays written in a bowl of alphabet soup. Surprise us. Play with form and content. If you hybridize some poetry and nonfiction, send it our way. Submit a single piece of no more than 4,000 words or up to 3 flash essays of less than 1,000 words each in a single document.
Poetry
We want vivid, vibrant poetry. We like prose poems or straight poetry with prose elements. We like traditional poetry. Submit up to 3 poems in a single document.
Visual Art
We’re looking for beautiful, fascinating, devastating cover art for our upcoming issues. Submit up to 6 pieces at a time.
Via: Sundog Literature.
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Last Seen Blogs
shiinata-library
Shiinata's library
parasikes
귀여운 독
murder-at-the-hazbin-hotel
I Wont Smile But I’ll Show You My Teeth
karenfordonte
Caring For Donte
judeimmanuel-blog
JÜđę