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icameasiam · 2 months ago

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ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᶜ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃᵗᵃᵗᵒⁿⁱᶜ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ — ᵐʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ

ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ˢᵒ ᵘⁿᶠᵃⁱʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃˡᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵗᵉ — ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᶜˡᵃⁱᵐˢ: ᴱᵛᵃⁿ ᴾᵉᵗᵉʳˢ ⁽ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵀᵃᵗᵉ ᴸᵃⁿᵍᵈᵒⁿ⁾ ᵀᵃⁱˢˢᵃ ᶠᵃʳᵐⁱᵍᵃ ⁽ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᶠⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢ ⱽⁱᵒˡᵉᵗ ᴴᵃʳᵐᵒⁿ⁾ ᵒʳ ᵀᵃʸˡᵒʳ ᴹᵒᵐˢᵉⁿˑ ᴵⁿ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ˒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᴬᴴᔆ ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵘⁿˡᵉˢˢ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʳᵉ⁻ᵉˢᵗᵃᵇˡⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵐᵘⁿ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐˑ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉʷ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵒʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉˑ ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘˑ

¹ˑ ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒᶰˢᶤᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵈᶤᵃ ʷᵉ ᶜᵒᶰˢᵘᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ : ᵞᵒᵘʳ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ᶤˢ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵉˢᶤʳᵉ ⁻ ⁻ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ᵐʸ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ᶤˢ ᵐᶤᶰᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵈᵉˢᶤʳᵉ ˑ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵘˢᵉˢ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶤˢ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᶠᶤᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˑ ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᶰᵉ��ᵉʳ ᵒᵇˡᶤᵍᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˑ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃ ˡᶤˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵒʳ ᶜᵃᶰᶰᵒᵗ ᵈᵒ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵐʸ ʳᶤᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ �� ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ˑ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ˒ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˡᶤᵗᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘᶰᶤᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ˑ ᴺᵒ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃᶰʸ ᵏᶤᶰᵈ ᶤˢ ᵃᶜᶜᵉᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ˑ

²ˑ ᴵᶠ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵘᵗᵘᵃˡˢ ⁻ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡʸ : ᵞᵒᵘ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵐᵉᵃᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵐᵉᶰᵗ ʷᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˑ ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᶤᵛᵉ ˒ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ᵃᶰ ᵒᵘᵗˡᵉᵗ ⁻ ˢᵒ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᶤᶰ ᵃᶰʸ ʷᵃʸ ʷʰᵉᶰ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ˑ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵖᵘˢʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉᵖˡᶤᵉˢ ˑ ᴵ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˡᶤᶠᵉ ᵒᵘᵗˢᶤᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ ˒ ˢᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˒ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃˢ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘᶰᶤᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ˑ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᵒᵖ ᵃ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈ ˒ ᵈᵒ ᶤᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉˢᶤᵗᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃᶰᵈ ˑ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᴵ ʷᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵃᶰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᶠᶤᶜ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈ ˑ ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵎ

³ˑ ᴮᵒʳᶰ ᶤᶰ ¹⁹⁹² ⁻ ¹⁸⁺ ᴮˡᵒᵍ : ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵒᶰˡʸ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉʳˢ ᵉᶤᵍʰᵗᵉᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵘᵖ ˑ ᵀʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ʷᶤˡˡ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵉʳᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒᵖᶤᶜˢ ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᵉᶰᵗ ᵛᵃʳᶤᵉˢ ˑ ᴵ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵛᵃʳᶤᵒᵘˢ ˢᵗᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ˡᶤᵛᵉˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᵖˡᵃᶰ ᵒᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶜʰᶤˡᵈʰᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉᵉᶰᵃᵍᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵘˡᵗʰᵒᵒᵈ ˑ ˢᵗʳᵒᶰᵍ ᵗᵒᵖᶤᶜˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᶤˢ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃᶰʸᵒᶰᵉ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ¹⁸ ˑ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ˒ ᵐʸ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᴹᵁˢᴱˢ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ¹⁸ ˑ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᶜᵒᶰᵈ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ᶤᶰ ᵃᶰʸ ʷᵃʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃʳᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵐʸ ᵒʷᶰ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵒʳᵗʳᵃʸᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᶜᴴᴼᴼˢᴱ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵗʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ˑ

⁴ˑ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘᶰᶤᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᶤˢ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ : ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᵒʳ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵈʳᵃᵐᵃ ᵒᶠ ᵃᶰʸ ᵏᶤᶰᵈ ˑ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᶤʳᵐ ᵇᵉˡᶤᵉᶠ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵖᵉ��ᵖˡᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᶤˢ ʷᵉᵇˢᶤᵗᵉ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘᶰᶤᶜᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᶤˢ ˑ ᴺᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵗʳᵘˡʸ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜˡᵃᶤᵐ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˑ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒᶰᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡᶤᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᵖʳᵒᵖᵉʳ ᶜᵒᶰᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃᶰʸ ᵖᵒˢˢᶤᵇˡᵉ ᶤˢˢᵘᵉˢ ʷᵉ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˑ ᴺᵒ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵉᶰᵗ ˒ ᶰᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡᵒᵘᵗ ⁻ ⁻ ᴵ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʰᵃᶰᵈˡᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᶠᵘˡˡʸ ˑ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶰ ᵃʳᵍᵘᵐᵉᶰᵗ ˑ ᵂᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵈᶤˢᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᶠᵘˡ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈˢ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˑ

⁵ˑ ᴵᶜᵒᶰ ᵘˢᵉ ⁻ ᴹʸ ᵒʷᶰ ᵉᵈᶤᵗˢ : ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒʷᶰ ᶤᶜᵒᶰˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶰᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵉᶰᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᶤᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˢ ˑ ᴹʸ ˡᶤᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵒᵏ @daevilhorns ʰᵃˢ ᵇˡᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᶤᶜᵒᶰˢ ˒ ᵇᵃᶰᶰᵉʳˢ ˒ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵒˢ ˑ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒʷᶰ ᵉᵈᶤᵗˢ ˑ ᶜʳᵉᵈᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᶤᵛᵉᶰ ʷʰᵉᶰ ᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵐʸˢᵉˡᶠ ˑ

⁶ˑ ᴱˣᵖˡᶤᶜᶤᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᵉᶰᵗ ⁻ ᵀʳᶤᵍᵍᵉʳᶤᶰᵍ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᵉᶰᵗ : ᵀʰᶤˢ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ʰᵃˢ ᵛᵃʳᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐᵉˢ ˑ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒᶰˢᶤᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʳᶤᵍᵍᵉʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᵗᵉᶰᵗ ˑ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉˢ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉˡˡᵉ ᶤˢ ᵃᶰ ᶤᶰᵗᵉˡˡᶤᵍᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᵒᶠᶠᶤᶜᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵛᵃʳᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉˢ ᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᶤᵐᶤᶰᵃˡ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ˒ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵉᶰᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᶤᵍᵍᵉʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒᵖᶤᶜˢ ˑ ᵀʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗᵒᵖᶤᶜˢ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶤᶰᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ ᵐᵘʳᵈᵉʳ ˒ ᵃᵇᵘˢᵉ ˒ ʳᵃᵖᵉ ˒ ᵏᶤᵈᶰᵃᵖᵖᶤᶰᵍ ⁻ ᵃᵐᵒᶰᵍ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ˑ ᴷᶰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᶤˢ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ˒ ᶰᵒʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶤᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵒᵗˢ ˑ ᴵᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗᵒᵖᶤᶜˢ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˒ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ᵉˣᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ ᶤᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵒᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˒ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵗᵃᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗᵒᵖᶤᶜˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁻ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶤᶰᵈˡʸ ʳᵉᵐᶤᶰᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ˑ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵍ ᵃᶰʸ ᵗʳᶤᵍᵍᵉʳˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᶰᵒ ᵒᵇˡᶤᵍᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᵃᶰʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶤˢ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ᵛᶤᵒˡᵉᶰᶜᵉ ˑ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ᵃ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈʸ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ˑ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᵃᶰʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉᵍᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ˒ ᵖᵘˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ˒ ˢᵖᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ˒ ᵗᵒʳᵗᵘʳᵉ ᶤᶰ ʳᵉᵍᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᶤˢ ˑ ᵀʰᵃᵗ ᶤˢ ᵐʸ ᵒᶰˡʸ ᵗʳᶤᵍᵍᵉʳ ˑ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᶤᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᵗʸᵖᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˢ ⁻ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᶰᵒ ᵒᵇˡᶤᵍᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᶤˢ ˑ ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳ ᶤᵗ ᶤᶠ ᶤᶰ ᵒᵘʳ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʷᵉ ᵈᶤᵈᶰ’ᵗ ᵈᵉᵗᵃᶤˡ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍˢ ˑ ᵀʰᵃᶰᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˑ

⁷ ˑ ᴹᵉᵐᵉˢ ⁻ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉʳˢ : ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᶰᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᵐᵃᶰʸ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ˑ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉˢ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁻ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᵉˡᵉᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉˢ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵒʳ ᵗʷᵒ ᵒᶠ ᶰᵒᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ˑ ᴷᶰᵒʷ ᵗʰᶤˢ ˒ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍ ᵃ ᵐᵉᵐᵉ ˒ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ˢᵉᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ʰᵃᶰᵈᶠᵘˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˑ ᴴᴼᵂᴱᵛᴱᴿ ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᴺᴼᵀ ᵒᵇˡᶤᵍᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒʳ ᵃᶰʸ ˑ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵍᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᵖᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ᵈᵉᵖᵉᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ˒ ᵒʳ ᶤᶰ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵒʳ ᵗʷᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˑ ˢᵒ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵏ ᶤᵗ’ˢ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ʷᵃᶰᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˡˡ ˑ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶰᵒᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᶰᵈ ᵐᵘˡᵗᶤᵖˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ˒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵐᶤᶰᶤᵐᶤᶻᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵒʳ ᵗʷᵒ ˑ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᵍᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵒᵖᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ᶤᶰ ᶜᵃˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵈᵒᵉˢᶰ’ᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ ˑ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉʳˢ ⁻ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃᶰʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᶤᵈᵉᵃˢ ⁻ ᶰᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃʳᵉ ˑ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶤᵗ ˒ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵒʳ ᵇᵒᵘᶰᶜᵉ ᶤᵈᵉᵃˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵒʳᵗʰ ˑ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉʳˢ ˒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᶤᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ˑ

⁸ ˑ ᴳᵒᵈ⁻ᵐᵒᵈᵈᶤᶰᵍ ⁻ ᴹᵘˢᵉ ᶜᵒᶰᵗʳᵒˡ : ᴵ ʷᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᵗʳᵒˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ; ᴵ ᶤᵐᵃᵍᶤᶰᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᵗʳᵒˡ ᵇᵉˡˡᵉˑ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʳᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˑ ᴬ ᶜᵒᶰᵛᵉʳˢᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ˒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ᵒʳ ᵈᶤᵈ ˑ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᶤˡᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ˒ ᵍᶤᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ʰᶤˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˑ ᵂʰᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ᶤᵗ’ˢ ʰᵃʳˢʰ ᵒʳ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ ˒ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ⁻ ᶤᶠ ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ’ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵒᶤᶰᵍ ᵒʳ ˢᵃʸᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᶠᶤᶜ ᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ˒ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ˑ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ᵉᵈᶤᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ⁻ ˢᵒ ᶰᵒ ʷᵒʳʳᶤᵉˢ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᶰᵈ

⁹ ˑ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ⁻ ˢᵗʸˡᵉ : ᴵ ᵗᵉᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢᵉ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵗᵉˣᵗ ⁻ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᶤᶜᵒᶰˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ˑ ᴵ ᵗᵉᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ⁻ᶜᵒᶰˢᵘᵐᶤᶰᵍ ᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ᵁᴺᴸᴱˢˢ ᴵ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵐʸ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᶤˢ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ˑ ᴵᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ��ᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘˢᵉ ᶤᶜᵒᶰˢ ᵒʳ ᶰᵒᵗ ⁻ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢᶰ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ˑ ᴵ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᶤᶰ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ˒ ˢᵉᶜᵒᶰᵈ ˒ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᶤʳᵈ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰ ˑ ᵂʳᶤᵗᵉ ˒ ʰᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ ˒ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᶠᶤᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ⁻ ᴵ’ˡˡ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵐʸ ᵒʷᶰ ʷᵃʸ ˑ ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˒ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᶠ ᵐʸ ᶠᵒᶰᵗ ᶤˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵒʳ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ˑ ᴵ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᶤᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵒᶰ ᵛᵃʳᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵈᵉᵛᶤᶜᵉˢ ˑ ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᶰᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒᵘʳ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ˑ ᵀʰᶤˢ ʷᵃʸ ᵃᶰʸ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵘʳ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶤᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵉᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᶜᵉ ˑ ᴵ ʷᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵐᶤᶰᵈ ᵘˢᶤᶰᵍ ᶰᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᶠᵒᶰᵗ ˑ ᵞᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶤˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᶤᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃᶰᵗ ᵗʰᵃᶰ ᵐʸ ᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉᵗᶤᶜ ˑ

¹⁰ ˑ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᶜˡᵃᶤᵐ ⁻ ᵛᶤˢᵘᵃˡ : ᴹʸ ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳ ᶤˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ⁻ᶜˡᵃᶤᵐ ˑ ᵀʰᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵃᶰˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵒʷᶰ ᴱⁱᶻᵃ ᵒʳ ᔆᵒᵖʰⁱᵃ ˒ ᶰᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃᶰʸ ᵗᶤᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵒ ˒ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ˑ ᵂʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶜʰᵒᶤᶜᵉˢ ᴱⁱᶻᵃ ᵒʳ ᔆᵒᵖʰⁱᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡᶤᵗʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵇᵉˡˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ ˑ

¹¹ˑ ᴱˣᶜˡᵘˢᶤᵛᶤᵗʸ ⁻ ᴹᵃᶤᶰˢ : ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃᶰ ᵉᶰᵗᶤʳᵉˡʸ ᵉˣᶜˡᵘˢᶤᵛᵉˢ ᵇˡᵒᵍ ˑ ᵀʰᶤˢ ᵐᵉᵃᶰˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐᵘˡᵗᶤᵖˡᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ˒ ᴴᴼᵂᴱᵛᴱᴿ ˒ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ˑ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃᶤᶰ ᵐᵘˢᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵒᶰˡʸ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ᶤᶰ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵒᶰᵉ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᶠᶤᶜ ᵐᵘᶰ ˑ ᵀʰᶤˢ ᶤˢ ᵈᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ⁻ᵇᵘᶤˡᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵘᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʳᶤᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᶠᶤᶜ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ˑ ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˒ ᶤᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᶠᶤᶜ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉʳ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˒ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒᶰᵃˡˡʸ ˑ ᴵ ᵉᶤᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉᵖˡʸ ᶤᶰ ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗˢ ˒ ᵒʳ ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ʸᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᶤᵗ ˑ ᵀʰᶤˢ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃᶰʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉʳ ˒ ᶤᵗ ʰᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᶤˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᶤᵐᵉ ˑ ˢᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˒ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᶤᶰᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒᵘᵇᵗᶤᶰᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶤᶰᶜʳᵉᵈᶤᵇˡᵉ ˢᵏᶤˡˡˢ ˑ ᴬˡˡ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰˢʰᶤᵖˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵈᶤᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵉᶜᶤᵃˡ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵒʷᶰ ʷᵃʸ ⁻ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃˡˡ ˑ

¹²ˑ ˢʰᶤᵖᵖᶤᶰᵍ ⁻ ᴿᵉˡᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰˢʰᶤᵖˢ : ᴷᶰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉᵃᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢʰᶤᵖˢ ˑ �� ᵈᵒ ˢʰᶤᵖ ᵇᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶰ ᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ˑ ᴵ ʷᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵖᵘˢʰ ᵃ ˢʰᶤᵖ ᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ⁻ ᵈᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵖᵘˢʰ ᵃ ˢʰᶤᵖ ᵒᶰ ᵐᵉ ˑ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶤᵈᵉᵃˢ ˒ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵈᵉᶜᶤᵈᵉ ᶤᶠ ᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉᶰ ˑ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ˒ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶠʳᶤᵉᶰᵈˢʰᶤᵖˢ — ᶠᵃᵐᶤˡᶤᵃˡ — ʳᵒᵐᵃᶰᵗᶤᶜ — ᵉᶰᵉᵐᶤᵉˢ ˑ ᴵᶠ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ᶤᶰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʷᵃʸ ⁻ ᵗʰᶤˢ ᶤˢ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗˡʸ ᶠᶤᶰᵉ ˑ ᵞᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡᶤᶰᵍˢ ˑ ᵞᵒᵘ ᶜᵃᶰ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐᵘˢᵉ ʰᵃᶰᵈˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶤᵗᵘᵃᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᶠᶤᵗ ˑ ᴵᵗ ʷᵒᶰ’ᵗ ᵗᵃʳᶰᶤˢʰ ᵃᶰʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵉˢ ᵒʳ ᵘˢ ᵃˢ ʷʳᶤᵗᵉʳˢ ˑ ˢᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵃˢ ᶰᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ˑ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵃᶰʸ ᶤᵈᵉᵃˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ⁻ ᴵ ʷᶤˡˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᶰ ᶜᵒᶰᶰᵉᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰˢ ˑ

ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ⁻ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵏᶤᶰᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᶰᵉ ᵃᶰᵒᵗʰᵉʳ

#☾ icameasiam : my rules ☽#my rules

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ilcaosscarlatto · 6 months ago

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RULES

1# PATIENCE

As writing here is a hobby I may not be able to always respond as quickly as possible therefore my replies can be late. If you may be those who mind such thing I don't think it's wise to follow me.

2# LEWD

I do not write lewd therefore don't ask me for it, if you try to force it upon me I will block you.

3# SFW

This account is safe for work, however, if dark themes are explored, such as gore, NSFW will be noted as a warning.

4# MCU

Wanda, as stated in informations about her, is solely based on 616 and has nothing to do with... Carrot Witch so do not refer nor tag me on photos/art of her. I despise the pretender twins Marvel tried to sell.

5# 616

My Wanda, though based heavily on 616, can have some canon divergent elements. Some things shall be ignored such as recent retcon and shall be stated in headcanons.

6# MAINS

I don't like having mains, my personal preference, and I like to interact with everyone so feel free to bother me.

#7 INTERACTIONS

1. Everyone is free to interact with me, tag me into random starters, photos and such. Also DMs are open thus I may not always be responsive.

2. I will treat MCU accounts as another universe characters for it is one to my Wanda (since she's from 616) BUT I will not interact with faux Maximoffs at all.

3. When it comes so OC relatives/children of Wanda I will also treat them as those coming from another universe. I had a bad experience with this and I don't like being forced into such relationships (which happened to me before since I didn't wish to sound rude), therefore you are free to interact but I can't accept you as her canon relatives/children.

#˚ ✷ *　 + ☽ SCARLET CHAOS RUNNING THROUGH MY VEINS ;; RULES ☾ +　 * ✷ ˚

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revclver-jesus · 1 year ago

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" Don’t leave, they need you. ”

Send these prompts on anon ( or not ) to see how they'd respond.

✞ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ❝ I- I'm not, I'm... not. ❞ He started first in a flinch of irritation at the accusation, but soon trailed off to silence as he realizes he's... talking to himself. The others have wandered off for the day He must have just... dreamt that voice?

When he jolted awake he came to realize he was sitting with one leg up, his tense and straining forehead leaned against it, and it was... hard to open his eyes to the sun. He must have dozed off after the dark hour, nothing unusual, they had no designated hour any one of them ever slept. But what may have caused his team concern is the way he shivered when he struggled to sit upright, his headache worsening into a fainting spell and driving him to lay his head back against the wall even once he did.

It was so humbling to think he could actually feel himself thinning. His body felt so magnificently tangible and yet so distant from him all at once, as though his soul was pulling from his bones preemptively, as if it knew he was inches from rotting. This must be what it feels like. To slowly die. To waste away. How fascinating, how invigorating, how tempting. As if he could close his eyes and just gently drift away, painless and numb...

But something in him chides him. Don't leave. ❝ I'm not...❞ He quietly groans, still dismissing the fear as dramatic no matter how severe he gets. ❝ Not... yet. ❞ And with an irritable sigh, he practically rolls his gilded eyes... and pulls out his phone. He has to order take out, anything easy that doesn't feel like a chore to force down. Perhaps... four nights straight living on nothing but coffee and water was his new and... perhaps final record.

#{{ HHHH ANON driving the serious angst out of me aaa }}#tw starvation #{{ all tw are on my blog's rules that takaya has an eating disorder but this feels unusually upsetting to read so hhh }}#✯ ✧ ✧ i.c. ☾ ✞ ☽#✯ ✧ ✧ ask. ☾ ✞ ☽

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strawberri-elixir · 1 year ago

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✿ 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 ~ 𝐒𝐇𝐄/𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 ~ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐍 ✿ ❀ 𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ~ 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐀'𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❀

✿ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈-𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! ✿

𝐌-𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒

𝐁𝐋𝐋𝐊 ~ 𝐁𝐒𝐃 ~ 𝐇𝐐!! ~ 𝐉𝐉𝐊

𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 ~ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎

✮ 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 — 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 (𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓)

✮ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 — 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓)

✮ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 — 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍!

#✧ jade's info ✧#✧ jade’s rules ✧#✧ jade’s masterlist ✧#☾ jade talks a lot ☽#strawberri-elixir

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 17 days ago

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Soft Feathers, Softer Kisses 🦉

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I'm soooo excited for y'all to see this!!!!

My first time writing for Telemachus and EPIC in general so please go easy on me 🥲

This was born from my need to smooch Tele. He's so cute 🥹

*the art is not mine, I got it from pinterest, if anyone knows the artists lmk pls!*

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You're betrothed to the prince of Ithaca. His father is lost at sea and 108 suitors are pushing his mother to choose a new king. When one of them insults the queen, a fight breaks loose, and you end up fiercely defending your lover with a determined owl at your side.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The sound of your sandals on the smooth palace floor echoed off the marble walls, the fabric of your chiton that wasn't bunched up in your hands was brushing against your legs while you hurried towards the hall.

The commotion had managed to make its way through the entire building like a breeze of the salty sea air.

Still, the news reached you later than you'd have liked.

Worry and anger twisted in your chest, a feeling like countless arrows piercing your heart. Your lungs were burning, no breath managing to get enough oxygen in your blood.

You had to hurry.

They would eat him alive.

You were well aware of the suitors. The 108 men who'd grown stubborn roots in the palace and refused to leave without getting a chance.

The king had been gone for so long, leaving his throne empty and his family behind. It had been two decades since he sailed off to war.

Not many believed he was even still among the living, instead thinking he was slaving away in his place in the Underworld.

The queen managed to keep the kingdom from ruin for years, ever since her beloved left, and yet they insisted on a new a king, a new man to wear the crown and sit upon the throne.

A new man to take Penelope as his wife.

The moment they showed up at the gates you'd stared at them with disgust, boring into them with your sharp gaze.

None of them were fit to lead, let alone rule an entire kingdom.

The queen stalled and stalled, the hope of her husband's return heavy on her heart.

However, the suitors soon grew impatient. Causing havoc within the walls of the palace, pounding on Penelope's doors, threatening bloodshed if she didn't choose a new king.

And now, your betrothed, the prince of Ithaca, was caught in the middle of it all because he was cursed with a heart too big for his body.

When you turned the corner of the hallway, you were met with a sight that made your heart shatter and wrath boil in your veins.

The suitors had circled Telemachus, leaving him trapped with no way out while Antinous stood over him, broad shoulders throwing shadows on the face of your beloved.

He was beaten and bloodied, heaving while trying to fight back.

Although a small, proud smile cracked on your face when you saw some of the men limping or nursing their bruised eyes.

Even Antinous was left with crimson streaks dripping from his mouth, staining his teeth. Your feet were carrying you further in their direction, a mindless action.

Panic struck you when Antinous raised his hand to deliver another blow.

Without thinking, you called out to him, rage tinting your voice accompanied by the angry grinding of your teeth.

"Antinous!" You yelled, a scowl on your face as you forced your way through the ocean of suitors.

"Get away from him!"

The giant man lowered his hand with a deep chuckle and turned to face you with a smirk that made the previously boiling blood to freeze.

"If it isn't the little princess. Come to save your prince, have you? I swear it's the other way around."

The grin that sat on his face, his bloodstained teeth exposed, made bile rise up your throat.

The men chuckled, making Telemachus' head fall forward in shame.

You payed them no mind, rushing to your lover.

Giving Antinous a look that could kill, you kneeled down next to Telemachus and cupped his face, a worried crease forming between your brows while you gently brushed your thumb over the blooming bruise on his cheek to soothe it.

"Look at you.. you're bleeding!" You gasped, quickly using your chiton to wipe away the blood on his face.

"I'm fine, I promise."

Telemachus gave you an unconvincing smile, followed by a wince. The worried look on your face tugged at his heart.

You looked like you were about to cry, and he hated to think that he was the reason.

"You're not fine. You're bruised and-and what if you broke a bone? How did this even happen? They knew there'd be consequences if they-"

the words just spilled out of you, the concern for your lover was something you could no longer contain.

He cupped your cheek and smiled weakly.

"My love, please. I assure you, I'm alright-"

He was cut off by Antinous, a scoff falling from his split lips. You scowled again and rose from your knees, a panicked expression appearing on your beloved's face.

"No, don't-"

Telemachus grasped at your hand, only for you to gently tug it from his grip as you approached Antinous.

Only when you made your way over to the grinning man did you notice a big owl circling the suitors, flying high towards the tall ceiling.

You spared it a glance, noting the magnificent coloring of its feathers and the bright eyes filled with something you could only describe as a sense of justice.

Not once had you see such determination in an animal, but it managed to put your mind at ease a little.

"You filthy dog! Who do you think you are?! He is your prince, whether you like it or not. And you have no right-" you snarled, raising your hand to point a finger at him.

He quickly caught your wrist in his fierce grip, a deep frown sitting on his face.

Antinous glanced at Telemachus, who was holding his aching side trying to pull himself off the ground, before averting his eyes back to you.

"He doesn't look very princely to me."

The smirk he sported was enough to make the fire in your chest spread even more.

"You-" you sneered only to be interrupted by Antinous again.

"What? Hm? What will you do?"

"Stop." Telemachus heaved, supporting himself on a marble pillar.

You didn't let yourself be intimidated by him and rivaled him with a look just as sharp.

"There's a special place in Tarturus for you, Antinous. If he'd even allow it." You spoke quietly but firmly, feeling satisfaction bloom in your heart at his reaction.

Antinous scowled, tightening his grip around your wrist.

"He," he began, "is dead."

You smirked, a scoff making its way past your lips.

"You better pray to the gods. Lady Tyche is not on your side. You'll be lucky enough if he even grants you a way to the Underworld. I hope you have enough gold on hand. Because the only way you're getting across the Styx is in pieces." You spat at him, venom dripping from your tongue.

Antinous bared his teeth, fury blazing in his eyes as he raised his other hand in the air, presumably to strike you.

"Get."

Telemachus' voice boomed through the hall, a scorned look on his face.

"Your hands. Off of her." He sneered, pushing himself away from the pillar.

"Do you want another beating, boy?" The giant man roared, almost crushing your wrist in his hand.

Down came your feathered friend, swooping in with its sharp claws and a chilling screech, successfully tearing open a new scar across Antinous' eye. He cried out and dropped your wrist, clutching his face instead.

The other men quickly drew their swords, swinging at the bird, only to miss and receive a peck from its beak against any vulnerable spot.

The owl evaded the suitors' weapons with such grace and struck back with such vigor that you were almost mesmerized.

"Αγάπη μου." *(my love)

Telemachus' gentle call for you snapped you out of your haze.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, worried Antinous had caused you any harm. You stared at him, your lips parted.

"I... no. No, I'm alright. We should leave." You said hurried, supporting his weight while you dragged him down an opposite corridor.

You spared the suitors and the mysterious owl a last glance, a smirk tugging at your lips at the sight of 108 men being defeated by a bird.

Antinous caught your gaze, and he snarled at you, still holding his eye.

"Next time.." he called out after you, "you're dead."

The threat sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine, but he was quickly put back in line by the owl, who promptly delivered a peck to the top of his head.

With a small smile playing on your face, you led your beloved back to his rooms to take care of his wounds.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Back in your chambers, you knelt in front of Telemachus, a worried crease between your brows while you gently held a damp linen cloth to his swollen and split knuckles.

The pure white fabric was stained with the crimson blood of your lover, a sting in your heart.

Telemachus sighed and took your chin in his hand, tilting your head to look him in the eyes.

"Λουλούδι μου, your expression pains me. I'd rather see your heartwarming smile." He spoke with a small grin, hissing when his busted lip reopnend and the blood began pouring once more. *(my flower)

Quickly, you pressed the cloth to his mouth, a deep frown on your face.

"And your state pains me. You-... You could've died. These are vicious, feral men, and as much as I don't doubt your ability to stand your ground, 108 against 1.... the odds weren't on your side." You replied, such sadness in your eyes it made Telemachus' heart ache.

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if..." you sighed deeply, tears threatening to fall from your lashline while your head fell forward.

His gentle hands cupped your face, the rag in your grasp long forgotten.

"But I'm okay. I promise you, my love, it's barely a scratch." A smile cracked on his face and you couldn't help but chuckle, followed by a sniffle.

"You have a larger heart than all those men combined." You whispered, pressing your palm right above his beating heart.

Telemachus cupped your hand and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fell shut at the sensation as you melted further into his touch.

"Besides," he broke the silence, a smirk on his lips, "I had help."

He glanced towards his balcony and you followed his line of sight, being met with the owl resting contently on the railing, curiosity in its bright eyes.

"Yes," you chuckled, rising to your feet and walking towards the creature, gently dragging Telemachus behind you by his hand, "your mysterious feathered friend. Care to introduce me?"

"Right. Her name's Ath-"

he was cut off when the owl screeched at him and furiously flapped her wings. He startled and chuckled nervously, clearing his throat.

"I-I meant A... Alena. Yes. Her name's Alena."

If an owl had shoulders and they could sag, this is what you'd imagine it'd look like.

You laughed softly, watching as the bird narrowed her sharp eyes at Telemachus. He swallowed thickly and gave her an awkward smile.

"Well, Thank you." You said sincerely, smiling when the owl bowed her head at you.

What a curious creature.

"We should get you some ointments for those cuts and bruises."

You turned back to your beloved.

"I told you, I'm totally fi- ow."

He winced, holding his side that would undoubtedly bloom with purples and blues come evening. You sighed softly and shook your head at him.

"You're too sweet for your own good sometimes."

You caressed his cheekbone and pressed your lips to his in a gentle kiss, minding his injuries. He hummed into the kiss, resting his hands on your waist.

Lost in your embrace, the owl made another sound, something closer to the typical hoot, averting your attention to her.

She ruffled her feathers and with a last glance at the both of you she took off into sky. With a content expression you watched her glisten in the afternoon sun.

Telemachus had a bright smile on his face and waved after her, watching as she flew into the sunset, disappearing behind the horizon.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Please let me know what you thought! <3

More of my stuff -> 💫

I think you wanna see this @withonly-sweetheart @allysunny 👀

Thank you so so so much to @vampkennedy for assisting me with the translations 🩷

#bumblebeesfromvenus #telemachus #telemachus x reader #prince of ithaca #telemachus of ithaca #epic x reader #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic antinous #epic athena #epic penelope #telemachus of ithaca x reader #prince of ithaca x reader

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latenightreadingpdf · 2 months ago

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A Hufflepuff's Heart - Regulus Black

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: Regulus Black’s unexpected friendship with a sweet Hufflepuff is revealed when Sirius catches them together.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The air in the castle was brisk, the cool draft weaving through the stone corridors and carrying with it the faint scent of autumn leaves and freshly lit torches. Regulus pulled his cloak a little tighter around his shoulders, his mind preoccupied with the latest round of pranks that had once again targeted Slytherin House. It wasn’t hard to guess who was responsible—his brother Sirius’s handiwork was as familiar as it was aggravating. Regulus could almost predict the moment Sirius would appear, armed with a smirk and a taunt, ready to test his patience yet again.

Sure enough, as Regulus turned the corner, Sirius was waiting there, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Ah, Regulus,” Sirius drawled, that irritatingly self-satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “How’s my favorite Slytherin?”

Regulus forced himself to remain calm, carefully keeping his expression neutral, planning to just walk right past his brother.

Sirius’s grin widened, undeterred. “I take it you noticed the common room… enhancement? Thought the emerald and silver scheme could use a bit of sparkle.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, the irritation flaring up despite his attempts to stay indifferent. “If you’re going to make yourself a nuisance, at least have the decency to make it subtle.”

“Oh, subtlety is no fun, Reg,” Sirius replied easily, leaning back against the wall, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Besides, it’s not as if you’re incapable of a bit of rule-breaking yourself. Don’t think I don’t know about those after-hours trips to the library—”

“Sirius,” Regulus interrupted sharply, his voice low but firm. “I’m not interested in discussing my nightly habits with you.”

Before Sirius could fire back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, followed by a familiar, bright voice that cut through the tension like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Reggy!”

Both brothers turned to see you striding towards them, your Hufflepuff robes swishing as you approached, your face lighting up with a smile that was warm enough to melt even the most stubborn winter chill. Regulus’s expression softened instantly, his usual guarded look replaced by something more open, more vulnerable.

Without a second thought, you walked right up to Regulus and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He stiffened for a heartbeat, caught off guard by your sudden affection, but quickly melted into the embrace, his arms coming up to hold you close.

“Hey,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes filled with warmth and a hint of concern. “How have you been?”

“I’m… good,” Regulus replied, his voice softer than usual, almost as if he were afraid of breaking the spell your presence cast. A small, genuine smile tugged at his lips, a rare sight that seemed reserved only for you.

As you finally pulled back, still standing close to him, you seemed to notice Sirius for the first time, your gaze shifting over to the older Black brother with a look of surprise. A polite, curious smile flickered across your face as you gave him a small wave.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t realize there was anyone else here. I’m Y/N,” you said, introducing yourself in that sweet, open way that Regulus had come to adore.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, looking you up and down as if trying to solve a riddle. He offered a nod, his grin softening into something more curious, though he said nothing in reply. For once, Sirius Black seemed to be at a loss for words. There was something he couldn’t quite place about you—a gentleness, a warmth—that seemed so at odds with the icy walls Regulus usually built around himself. It was strange, almost impossible to imagine someone so kind being so close to his guarded, distant brother.

After a moment, Sirius managed a slight smile, finally extending his hand to you. "Sirius Black,” he introduced himself, his tone curious, though he kept his usual charm restrained. “Regulus’s… older brother.”

You took his hand, returning his smile with a polite one of your own. “Oh! It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, a hint of surprise in your voice. You turned back to Regulus, seemingly oblivious to Sirius’s scrutiny. “I had no idea you had a brother, Reggy!” you said with a laugh, your eyes shining with amusement. “You keep him quite the secret.”

Regulus shifted, his hand instinctively tightening around your shoulder. He’d dreaded this moment for so long, the day you would meet Sirius, the brother who seemed to draw people in without effort, who everyone adored and admired. Regulus had always felt invisible in his shadow, the “other” Black brother, colder and quieter, always on the outside looking in. But you had seen him—you had seen past the walls, the carefully constructed mask, and found something worth holding onto. And he couldn’t bear the thought of sharing that with Sirius, of watching you get pulled into his brother’s orbit and realizing he could never be what Sirius was.

Sirius, still watching silently, caught the faint, possessive gesture, the way Regulus seemed to pull you closer as if trying to keep you all to himself. His expression flickered with something unreadable, a mixture of curiosity and something softer, something he hadn’t expected to feel. Seeing Regulus with you—seeing his younger brother so fiercely protective of this rare connection—stirred something in him, a strange pang of almost… respect.

The silence stretched, and you shifted slightly, glancing between the two brothers as if sensing the tension, though you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you gave Sirius a warm, friendly smile before turning back to Regulus, your hand reaching for his as you gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, Reggy and I should get going,” you said softly, looking up at him. “We’ve got some homework to catch up on.”

Regulus’s gaze softened at the touch, and he nodded, his lips curving into that faint, private smile that he reserved only for you. “Yes, we should.”

With a final nod toward Sirius, Regulus gently guided you down the hallway, his arm draped protectively over your shoulders. He glanced back once, catching Sirius’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, the brothers shared a look of understanding—a silent acknowledgment, a truce of sorts. Sirius watched as you walked away together, his brow furrowed in thought, his mind turning over the strange puzzle of his brother and his unlikely friend.

How did someone as kind, as open-hearted as you manage to find your way into the life of someone as complex and withdrawn as Regulus? Sirius couldn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom what had drawn you to his quiet, brooding brother. But as he watched the two of you disappear down the corridor, he felt a spark of hope, a rare flicker of warmth in the cold, stone-cast walls of the castle.

Maybe Regulus had found something Sirius had never truly understood—a genuine connection that didn’t rely on charm or bravado, but on something softer, something real.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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serpentandlily · 9 months ago

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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel.

Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand.

When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard.

A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”

“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming.

This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity.

The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh.

“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”

Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that.

The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question.

The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here.

He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward.

He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.

Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in.

“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.”

This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to.

He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.

Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs.

At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.

“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.”

His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves.

His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City.

He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her.

“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under.

“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at.

Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read.

“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”

“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?”

But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him.

“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.”

Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her.

He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available.

But here he was.

Again.

Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth.

It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes.

“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.”

Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor.

He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood.

He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open.

Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room.

There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches.

His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere.

Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place.

He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare.

“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her.

“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.”

She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey.

She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”

Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands.

“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out.

A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin.

“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day.

“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.”

She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks.

“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her.

“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.”

His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”

“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.”

“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey.

His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her.

Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.

“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”

His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin.

“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her.

“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.”

If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed.

So Azriel surged forward and kissed her.

Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him.

Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him.

He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully.

So sweet.

So divine.

Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck.

She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist.

Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire.

“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair.

“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers.

His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips.

He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain.

Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo.

An Angel.

That’s what she was.

A godsdamn Angel.

He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.

“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.

Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear.

“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”

She swallowed audibly, nodding her head.

“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking.

He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed.

Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her.

She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips.

True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him.

“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.”

He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.

“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”

She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge.

“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”

Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her.

She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop.

He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.”

He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft.

“Please,” she begged.

“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?”

“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined.

The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.

“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”

She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.

Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness.

Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her.

“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her.

“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed.

“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.”

“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines.

His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.

“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.

His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her.

They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction.

And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath.

A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him.

The mating bond snapped.

His mating bond.

Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up.

Fuck, his mate…

She was his mate.

His godsdamn mate.

This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she?

He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him.

“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.”

He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.

“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.”

“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.

“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”

And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((

(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel spymaster

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lilitophidian · 9 months ago

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OK, confession, I have no idea what the everloving shit I'm doing with some starters, so uhhh, gonna throw another starter call out with some rules to help myself. Let me know your triggers so I can stay away from certain topics to cater to you. Do remember I am a heavy content writer, and I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable.

My discord is floralparadise since Tumblr is on occasion a twat waffle with IMs.

Also, don't be afraid to ask me for outlandish shit cause again fiction does not equal reality.

Ocs - Please tell me what you'd like and explain your ideas in regards to relations to Lilith.

Multi-muses - State which muse you'd like me to pester.

Crossovers - Speak to me first as stated in my carrd. Sometimes, I don't watch all mainstream media.

Canon characters - If there is no lore, fan theories, or things in regard to our interactions, please message me so I can get an idea of what you are looking for.

Those who have come to me already, you're fine. And I'll try and get around to it today!!

#starter call #should have added rules to the first one but yaknow it was late #⋆˖⁺‧₊☽⚸☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ 𝓦𝓱𝓸 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓮𝓭 𝓑𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓲 ⛧ Ꭷꭷፈ

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eyetally · 2 years ago

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@shiningsilverarmor liked for a lyrical starter !

❝-— I’ve been searching for an answer but I HAVEN’T found one-- - luckily I can keep TEARING THINGS UP until I DO! – -❞

#shiningsilverarmor #「 ☾◎☽ ┆ ||̸|| “IC” 」≽ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʳᵒˡˡ ᶦˢ ᵗᵘʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ²⁰ˢᵎ #( 20 years later heres this!#this could honestly just be green unable to find a game rule / pretending they cant #or a more serious one haha #lmk if you want change for it tho!

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ceoofglytchell · 5 months ago

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Safe Haven

Summary: While Aemond searches for comfort with Madame Sylvi, the older brother has long chosen you, one of the Madame’s more expensive girls, to be the shoulder he cries on.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Brothel worker!Reader

Word count: 3127 words

Warnings: hurt/comfort, making out, brief nudity, brief smut, allusions to past smut, mention of sex work, mention of the death of a child, he’s kinda dependent on you, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I just wanted to thank you all for the positive reactions to my first fanfic! I could never have imagined people would actually read and like the stuff I write and I am very grateful for that. Also I would like to thank @danytar for supporting me ever since I started this blog, love ya! Anyways, here’s another one for you! 💛

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“Look, it's the king!”

You looked up from the cup of wine that you had been holding for some time, staring into the dark red liquid, hoping that tonight you would just have to sit there and look pretty for the men coming by to get rid of their loneliness for an hour or so. While you were grateful for your job, as it meant you wouldn’t have to live a miserable life on the dirty streets of King’s Landing, there were times when you wished you were someone else.

A lady from a rich house, a princess, a queen...

However, those were nothing more but daydreams and besides, you didn't really want to carry the burdens of royal life on your shoulders. Not when you had heard for many years how much they plagued a certain silver haired prince who came to you ever since he saw you dancing for some men once in Sylvi's fine establishment. It had been several years ago and at first he had actually only come to you to have someone to drink with. A little later, he had begun to open up to you and then you often dried his tears and held him in your arms whenever his grandfather and mother once again frightened him with the thought that he would have to wear the crown one day.

It had been two weeks since he had last been with you. The poor boy had stumbled into the brothel in the middle of the night, completely drunk, bumped into people and started a fight because he had thought you were taking care of another client, the thought of which he could not stand, which had not been true, as you had simply taken a small break. You had barely run into the room after you had been told he had come when he had already thrown himself directly into your arms and buried his face in your hair while sobbing bitterly.

The very next day, you and many other people had been dragged into the dragon pit to watch Aegon being crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms in front of everyone, and that moment your heart had broken for him, knowing how much he had never wanted that title.

Now, some time later, he was standing in the doorway again, his two friends Martyn and Leon were standing not far behind him and a young man with raven-black hair was also there, but you didn't recognize him and he seemed to be a little unwell. Aegon also seemed drunk, very drunk actually, as he was slurring his words and could hardly walk in a straight line, but when he spotted you on the opposite side of the room, a broad grin formed on his handsome face.

"My love!" he called loudly and stumbled past a couple, who seemed lost in a passionate dance, and ran up a small staircase to where you and some other girls were sitting on the sofas and talking to pass the time. His friends followed him cautiously, knowing how infatuated he was with you.

You quickly placed your golden cup of wine on the side table, stood up and approached him just to make sure he wouldn't trip and embarrass himself in front of all these people. He was the king after all and you knew some who already saw him as weak and incapable of ruling, which you wanted to shield him from. You knew what he had been through recently and it had only been a matter of time before he came back to you.

There was just one small problem... his brother had also come through the doors not too long ago and he had not left yet.

So you had two things to worry about that night: Aegon and not accidentally stumbling over Aemond.

As soon as you got close enough, Aegon wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and held you tightly against him, as if to make sure you wouldn't vanish into thin air. You have been his safe haven for quite some time now, and your mere presence did wonders for his troubled soul, your smile a balm for his heavy heart. Your long, wavy hair smelled of roses, and your body, wrapped in green satin robes, clung to his so perfectly that for a moment he thought you had melted into one. Aegon wanted nothing more than you and your closeness, which was why he had come here that evening. He had wanted to see you.

"I missed you," Aegon murmured into your hair, his fingers digging into the fabric of your robes over your hips to feel your warmth. But he would prefer it if you weren't wearing any clothes at all so he could feel your soft skin under his fingers instead. You didn't even have to do anything together, he just wanted to be close to you.

"I missed you too, Your Grace."

"Don't call me that," he grumbled into your shoulder and instinctively hugged you tighter. He came to you to feel free and forget some of the burdens that weighed on his shoulders, not for you to remind him who he was and that he wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in the council chambers, talking to his council about the next steps of the war or just doing something, but instead he sought comfort from you - a whore.

"My Darling? Sweetling? Precious?" you joked playfully instead, while stroking his back with your gentle hands. You had used all of these names with him before, but he had never admitted which one was his favorite or whether he found them all to be terrible. However, you always thought he liked them better than some respectful noble title that he didn't want to wear anyway.

One of his friends, Martyn, cleared his throat and patted the young black-haired man on the shoulders, as if to tell his king that there was still something to do before he could devote himself to his own satisfaction.

His head shot up again immediately, which messed up his silver hair a little, which was not a very unusual sight for him, and he put an arm protectively around your waist, while he looked right back at his drinking companions. "Right, right. Dove, we are looking for the madam. This young lad here needs bedding in, gently. I thought she was the perfect choice, don’t you agree?”

Your lover wanted to go with you in the direction of the private rooms, but you managed to hold him back by the arm, whereupon he clumsily bumped back into you in his drunken state, but you were already used to that.

"Madame Sylvi is busy right now."

Aegon opened his mouth to reply, but thank the gods he was a little slower in his movements and reactions at the moment due to the influence of wine.

"However, I know someone else who would treat the boy well." You only had to snap your fingers once and one of the girls you had been sitting with on the sofas earlier came running over and quickly grabbed the boy's hand. She was a little younger than you, pretty, and talented. In your eyes, that was certainly better than interrupting the madam right now, especially considering who she was with in this very moment.

"You heard the woman. Go on, get going. And have fun!" Aegon called after the squire as he was being dragged into one of the back rooms by the whore you had called to help, whereupon he burst into loud, drunken laughter. You just rolled your eyes and shook your head, but a small glint within your gaze revealed how much you truly cared for the king no how much he meant to you.

It wasn't just the sack of gold he gave you after every night, or the sex that was important to you, but rather everything about him. You loved his loud laugh, the way he constantly sought your closeness, his urge to always touch you, you loved his jests just as much as the moments when he showed you how vulnerable and broken he truly was, when he just leaned on your shoulder and cried and you stroked his back and told him how good he was being and that he would always be enough for you. That was what you loved. You loved him.

"And what are we two going to do now?" you asked him, amused, to which he simply grabbed your hand in response and started to pull you along, while he didn't even look back at his friends, since you were everything that mattered to him. You were the only one who could ease his hidden pain.

Since he came here again and again especially for you, he knew his way around here like few other and knew exactly where the little alcoves were where two people could make themselves comfortable, be alone and spend time together. Luckily for the both of you, one at the beginning of the corridor had just become free, so you wouldn't run into a certain other Targaryen. You did not want an argument, not now.

As soon as Aegon had shut the curtain behind you both, he sighed and fell onto the soft mattress while you moved to lit the candles to make the atmosphere a little more pleasant. It smelled of candle wax and fire, but also of various perfumes and other fragrant oils that the previous guests had probably used before they had left again. You already knew that the hour he would spend with you would be either very nice or very heartbreaking. After all, you hadn't seen each other for two weeks and he certainly had much to talk about. You, on the other hand, could mostly only tell him the same stories about overzealous customers and strange preferences that the other women had told you about. Those talks didn't bore him, because he was sure that he would always be happy as long as you were with him.

For a moment you considered taking off your clothes and pulling him into your lap, but you decided against it when you saw that he was just staring into one direction, his good mood evaporating like a pile of ashes in the wind. You knew that look and it was usually never a good sign. He needed you. Now perhaps more than ever.

"Aegon?" you asked carefully and sat down next to him on the white sheets, which were a bit out of order and had stains in some places that you didn't want to think about too long.

"Come here, I need you," the king murmured and tugged at the ends of your robe, whereupon you chuckled and dropped down next to him on the round bed and immediately wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in the crook of his neck.

"I wish I could have been there for you. That night."

You knew the night he lost his son was a difficult subject and probably not what he wanted to talk about, or what he had come to you for, but you couldn't hold that thought back any longer. The other girls had told you how he had all the rat catchers hanged the next day and how hard it had been to watch the little prince's funeral march. You hadn't been there because you had things to do, but you weren't sure you would have watched it voluntarily either, because the regret would probably have eaten you alive.

All the time he spent with you, he could have spent with his children, but he was probably aware of that as well. But the regret didn't change his feelings for you, and you both knew that he would come back again and again and again. Sometimes you really believed he was as dependent on you as he was on dornish wine.

"They wanted Aemond, did you know that? It was supposed to be revenge for Rhaenyra's dead son, but because he wasn't there... because he wasn't there, they murdered my little son in his bed."

His grip on your waist tightened and you knew from his voice alone that he was close to tears, if they weren't already shining in his eyes. You would weep too if your child had been murdered, but you did not have one. A bastard would only hinder you from your work and you didn't want to lose your only source of livelihood, even if the thought of being a mother was one that often crossed your mind.

Especially if he would be the father...

"It's my brother's fault. It's all, all his fault. If it had not been for him, I would be far away from all this in the free cities or gods know where! I would not be king and my boy would still be alive!"

Aegon was sobbing now and you couldn't do anything but wrap your arms around him even more and listen to him speak, because if he didn't tell you, who else would listen to his thoughts? Certainly not his mother, not his brother anymore either, he rarely spoke to his sister-wife anyway and thus he only had you. You were the only one who always listened to him and who was always honest.

He wished he could have married you... You two could have lived a simple, beautiful life far away from King’s Landing, outside of Westeros. But neither of you were granted such a life. He was the king and you were just the whore he loved.

"Don't you have anything to say, love?"

You looked up from his shoulder and leaned over him so you could see his sad amethyst colored eyes and the tear that slowly made its way down his cheek, leaving a trail of wetness behind on his pale skin. You felt a brief urge to brush it away, but instead you let it fall and watched as the tear fell onto the velvet pillow that lay beneath his head, leaving a tiny black stain that would disappear in a matter of minutes. No one would ever know what you and the king did behind the curtain, but you knew that if you happened to be mentioned later on, history would describe you as nothing more than his mere mistress. Perhaps in this case you wanted to be forgotten entirely, for no writing would ever do justice to what you two had together.

The bond that bound you to each other was strong, but no one would ever know about it.

"What can I say, darling? There is nothing I can say except that I am deeply sorry, and I already did."

"Then don't say anything. Show me." As much as he tried to make it sound like a suggestion, it was a command. But you loved him too much to tell him that this was not the right way and that you were not exactly good for him. He wouldn't listen to you anyway. Two days later and he would be at your doorstep again. That's how it had always been and that's how it always would be. You would get gold for your efforts and he would kiss you goodbye and leave.

As always, you obeyed him and connected your lips with his. Two weeks without you had been too much for him. Aegon moaned into the kiss and pulled you closer to him, as close as humanly possible so that he could feel every feminine curve of your body pressed against his even though you were both still wearing your clothes.

Normally this would be the moment when he would turn you onto your back and rip those sheer robes from your body, but this time he did nothing of the sort and gave you full control.

Your tongue found its way into his mouth and you could still taste the heavy wine that was clouding his senses on his own tongue and it was clear that he had probably drunk a lot of before he had set foot in this establishment again, which you couldn't blame him for. If you had been in his place, you would probably have thrown yourself off one of the balconies of the Red Keep long ago, but he was stronger than that.

You kissed him desperately, pouring every emotion you had ever felt for him into that one kiss and he let it happen and he lost himself in it, he lost himself in you.

You managed to numb his senses better than anyone in the known world and perhaps that was another reason why he always found his way back to you in the end. But you let him in every time, which told him that you must feel for him too.

There were moments when he couldn't help but wonder if you were real. Not whether you existed, because he knew very well that you did, no, whether your affection for him was really genuine. Your smile, your laughter, the way you always sought his closeness whenever he was with you, and how gently you treated him all gave him the hope that you actually felt the same as he did, but he would probably never be sure. After all, you never refused his gold. Probably only then would he be sure that it was real.

Your gentle hands slowly brushed his coat from his shoulders and worked on the clasps of his tunic, believing that this was exactly what he wanted, because after all, he hadn't told you anything except that you should show him what you couldn't with words.

A short time later, you were both completely undressed and you moved your hips against his in a way that made his eyes flutter shut and left him gasping for air and groaning your name in pure bliss.

Fucking, alcohol and you were the only things that could distract him from being king or from wondering when the next time would be the stranger's shadow would fall upon his family and who it would be. It just couldn’t be you. If he lost you... he wouldn't know what to do.

Aegon was aware that none of this was good for him and that he should have stopped coming back to you years ago, but when you lay in his arms again a little later, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat on your body and a happy, radiant smile on your face, he knew that no matter what happened, he would never let you go. You would always be with him, although unfortunately not as his wife, but he couldn't help his feelings and he wouldn't hide them from you.

"I love you," he whispered to you, his hand stroking your side soothingly and his head resting against yours.

"I love you too, Aegon."

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#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #tom glynn carney

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jasmines-library · 3 months ago

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As Good As Dead

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

WHUMPTOBER DAY FOURTEEN :Prompt: Left for Dead

Summary: You are the daughter of the Joker and its safe to say that you have a very complicated relationship. So what happens when you get injured by one of the Batfamily and he leaves you to die.

Warnings: blood, near death experiences.

Word count: 1.1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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Agony. Hot and bright and burning. That was the only thing you knew in that moment. The katana had pierced straight through your chest cavity, pinning you helplessly to the ground as you lay there in a pool of your own blood. You had screamed. That you were certain of. You had felt it rip your throat raw. You had cried out: but no one came. Not even your own father who was more hellbent on chasing his nemesis, Batman, through the streets of Gotham than he was with helping his own child.

You watched, clawing at your own chest as your father looked back at you. Your eyes met his. They were full of this dark and twisted insanity that no villain could rival. And sadistically, with not so much as even a glint of remorse on his face, The Joker turned on his heel and left, chasing the infamous black silhouette that you had come to loathe down the street.

You and your father had a complicated relationship. You loved him, of course. He was your father. He taught you everything you knew; trained you to be a strong fighter. But it seemed the entirety of your bonding seemed to be around Bruce Wayne and his pesky little birds. He was obsessed with being better than him. And for years you believed that he was right. That Bruce was the villain. But when your father went to Arkham things started to change. You started to realise that there was more to life than being better than everyone else. And so you began to grow apart. And so he left you when you needed him the most.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there for. But your body was beginning to grow numb. At first, the pain turned from hot to cold. Your body began to shiver against your sticky clothes. And then the cold began to take over your fingertips until you could no longer feel them. Slowly but surely you began to grow numb. To feel nothing but numb. As you stared up at the sky, the edges of your vision began to fade. You could no longer make out the edges of the skyscrapers and the neon signs, but could only see the clouds which passed in the sky above. Or atleast you thought they were clouds. There was a high possibility that it was your own vision that had clouded over and that was what you were seeing. You didn’t know anymore.

Your fingers twitched against the concrete. You had long since given up trying to pull out the offending sword instead leaving it to protrude gruesomely from between your ribs. Your fingers were covered in blood from your previous efforts though. It had cracked and dried sticky on your fingers.

The area around you was near silent. There was nothing around you besides the odd sound of a passing car in the distance. Strange for a city. But then there was the voice. One. No. Two voices. They were talking to each other. And from the volume of it whatever they were talking about was rather panicked. They seemed to be discussing something of importance. The voices began to get closer and closer and then the higher, more worried one stopped before speaking out.

“Holy shit— they’re alive-“ Damian exclaimed, slightly startled by the state you were in. He wasn’t sure why. He was the one who had driven the katana through your chest in the first place. He hadn’t meant to do so much damage. The guilt had been eating away at him since the minute he heard the scream leave his throat. Batman had one rule that Damian was actually keen to follow. No killing unless you absolutely have to. He could tell that you weren’t really invested in the fight. Your punches were lacking their usual sharpness and you only seemed to be on the defence. Damian had noticed that about you recently. You weren’t too keen on helping your father. And he wanted to know more. He had witnessed firsthand the gaze your father had shot you before he left. And he hadn’t practically begged Dick to come back here and look for you.

“Holy shit….” Dick breathed out taking in the scene around him.

A gentle tap on the side of your face and Damian was in front of you. His hands came up to your neck, feeling for a pulse. It was incredibly slow and weak but there none the less. “Their pulse is slow.”’

“I’ll call medical. See if you can get them to respond to you.” Dick said before stepping away for a moment to contact medical.

“Hey….can you hear me?” Damian asked you.

You blinked at him slowly and tried to move your lips but no words came out. Instead a trail of blood dribbled from your lips.

Damian panicked. “Okay. Okay. Don’t try to talk, save your strength. We- we’re going to get you help.” Damian could hardly take his eyes off you his katana. How it poked sickeningly from your chest, wedged between your ribs. He couldn’t understand why he was was even bothering to help you. You were the enemy. But you were also human too.

“Medics are on their way” Dick confirmed. “Did you get her to respond?”

Damian just simply shook his head, but Dick had figured as much. “We just gotta keep her awake until the medics arrive. They should be here soon.”

Damian bit his lip anxiously. “Alright….”

Before you knew it there were sirens. Loud and obnoxious they pierced their way through your ears. And then you were surrounded my medics and a world of pain before being carted off into the back of an ambulance.

When you awoke you were greeted by the sterile lights off the hospital as well as very worried looking Damian.

“You’re awake.” He said, moving closer to you the moment he saw your eyes open.

You blinked “and you saved my life…..”

“Well….after I stabbed you….” He mumbled sheepishly.

“Why did you help me…?” you asked hoarsely.

Damian's face twisted as he thought for a moment. “You didn’t deserve to die. I couldn’t just leave you there after your father–”

Ah shit. Your father. He had left you for dead. You certainly weren’t going back to him now…. “Right.”

He frowned, noting your upset. “Hey. Don’t worry about it. Just focus on healing right now. We’ll sort it out.”

“You don’t have to help me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

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<- DAY THIRTEEN ⛧DAY FIFTEEN ->

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