Could I Perhaps Request What It Would Be Like To Be In A Relationship With The Witch-king During His

Could i perhaps request what it would be like to be in a relationship with the witch-king during his reign of Angmar? F!Reader please! (Also hello hope you are well!)

Headcanons what it would be like to be in a relationship with the Witch-King of Angmar

Witch-King of Angmar (Lord of the Rings) x F!Reader

Warnings: manipulative behavior, toxic relationship, possessive behaviors, worshipping

Note: Hiii! I am fine. :D I am happy that someone finally wants a Witch-King fanfic! There are not enough fanfics about him! :3

Living in Angmar, you would be surrounded by a desolate and barren landscape. The realm itself reflects the Witch-King's malevolent influence, adding to the overall sense of despair and hopelessness

You become a source of light and hope for the Witch-King

You see beyond his dark exterior and recognize the flicker of humanity that still resides within him. Your presence challenges his beliefs and makes him question his allegiance to Sauron

"You are mine, body and soul. No one else shall lay claim to what belongs to me."

His possessive and manipulative nature would drive him to do anything to have you and keep you away from others

You would be the first person to evoke unfamiliar emotions within him, and he would be determined not to let you slip away easily

The Witch-King has high expectations regarding your appearance in public. He will not tolerate you dressing like a slob, and he will react strongly if you challenge him on this matter

Prepare to be lavished with an extravagant amount of jewelry. The Witch-King will spare no expense in adorning you with opulent accessories

He would give you your own servants

His love language for him can be quality time together, although sometimes he can leave his comfort zone and be affectionate with physical contact

Despite the darkness that surrounds him, the Witch-King has an insatiable desire to make you happy

"In my arms, you shall find ecstasy that transcends the mortal realm. I will show you pleasures beyond your wildest imagination."

He may go to great lengths to fulfill your desires and shower you with extravagant gifts and grand gestures

He treats you like an absolute Queen

Living with the Witch-King would likely require you to isolate yourself from the outside world

Your relationship would need to be kept secret, and your interactions with others would be limited to ensure your safety and the preservation of the Witch-King's image

The halls of Angmar would be populated by monsters, serving as the Witch-King's loyal minions. These monsters would add to the sense of dread and foreboding within the realm

Being in a relationship with the Witch-King would expose you to constant fear and danger. His enemies would view you as a potential weakness to exploit, making you a target for their attacks

A deep sense of loyalty binds you to the Witch-King. Despite the challenges and dangers, you find yourself drawn to him, captivated by his enigmatic presence and the intensity of your connection

He is quite interested in what you like, and he is willing to learn things you like just for the fun of it

Occasionally, he may refer to you as his pet. However, it is crucial to note that anyone else who dares to use that term in reference to you will face a painful death

"My love for you is an eternal flame, burning brighter with each passing moment. No distance or obstacle can extinguish it."

Having the Witch-King as your protector ensures that no one with a functioning brain would dare to mess with you. The mere thought of crossing him fills people with unimaginable fear, and some individuals are even afraid to look in your direction due to the consequences they may face

He becomes fiercely protective of you, willing to defy Sauron's orders to keep you safe

Sauron would be jealous of the Witch-King's divided attention and suspicious of your influence on his most trusted servant. He would closely monitor your interactions, trying to discern any signs of disloyalty or betrayal

"I am the shadow that protects you, my love. With a single command, I can bring kingdoms to their knees and shape the world to our whims."

You are so underrated wtf

✦–Dirty talk with League men (how do they call you and how do they want to be called in bed).✦ NSFW

✦Basically praise kink.

✧ prompt: ✧ I had this laying in my drafts for, like, eternity, so I’m not quite sure how did I come up with this. Prob my voice kink kicked in.

✧ champions: ✧ Zed, the Master of Shadows; Thresh, the Chain Warden; Kayn, the Shadow Reaper; Talon the Blade’s Shadow; Shen, the Eye of Twilight.

✧ reader: ✧ female.

✧ warnings: ✧ obvi NSFW; dirty talk; praise kink; sub!Kayn because I love him being submissive; degradation; bondage; Thresh is a sadistic brat.

✧ author’s note: ✧ ignore any mistakes since I'm too tired to read this for the third time or smth. And please don't eat me alive for Kayn's part, I have like two other drafts with sub!Kayn headcanons for the appreciation of a dom!reader, which we need more‼️

masterlist

✦Zed, the Master of Shadows.

Zed can do both: if you enjoy degrading, he will call you a slut or a bitch, but if you prefer soft petnames, something more subtle and fragile, he can call you his little shadow.

He isn’t really talkative, especially in bed. The Master of Shadows usually keeps on his mask of a stoic, ruthless person, silent and deadly. He lets out some heavy grunts of frustration thought.

But your apperance makes him feel different. Complitely different.

He can be a real dirt talker when desired. Whispering in your ear sweet promises of the things he is going to do to you, when you sit obediently on his lap.

You are going to melt in his hands from his voice only anyway.

As for him, he doesn't need you speaking to him during sex. Zed enjoys your cries and moans, there is no need for rushed words.

But he has one weakness, that he would never admit outloudly.

Call him Master, as his official title states, from time to time. And watch him tensing from your subtle tease.

Moan Master Zed and he will be yours for a while. Hopeless and lost in your innocent being that admits his supremacy, so alluring.

✦Thresh, the Chain Warden.

This sadistic demon would probably call you something simillar to his own property. It is a well known fact how controlling he is, as he treats the petty souls of those who lost them to him like pathetic objects.

Therefore, a pathetic little soul would work too.

But on the other hand, Thresh doesn’t want you to adress him at all.

He wants you to be all chained up in a convoluted position, with something in your mouth so you can't mutter a single word.

The only sounds he demands are the cries of yours, either of pleasure or from pain that is caused by his tortures.

So no talking back. No calling him. Only painful screams and your chained body under him, fetching and gorgeous, yet moving away from the touch of his cold claws.

His plaything.

✦Kayn, the Shadow Reaper.

Starting with what he would love to hear from you pretty mouth…

Please, call him a good boy.

Call him handsome. Call him yours and yours only.

It makes him feel appreciated and adored by you, the person his soul crawls for. When you take care of him, when you are so gentle…

But call him a good boy. And he will become a hopeless mess under your body.

Oh, it is impossible for him to not call you mommy. If you enjoy it, of course.

He would mutter the sweet name out of his breath, while you ride him.

✦Talon, the Blade’s Shadow.

Some would call him eternal silent, maybe even grumpy. But he is just not used to a genuine company of a caring human being.

Every segment of his body was made for killing, his devotion - the job of an assassin.

But he is capable of love - the fire kind, full of sacred desire that ends his continency that had been made to prevent him from wandering off from the path of a killer. Greedy and possessive, where he wants your body under his own to claim you whole, mark as his, force you to stay by his side.

Under the cover of a private room, he becomes a tease. Talon finds your whimpers adorable whenever he whisper a husky good girl into your ear.

On the other side, you hear him saying ’my name doesn’t matter’ in different situations, official or not, definitely too many times. So you make sure to moan his name in the moments of pleasure, when you bury your face in the pillow of your bed, feeling the sensation building up in your core, hearing the obscene sounds of melting bodies.

And it touches his weak spot. To have his name on your lips, cherished, adored.

✦Shen, the Eye of Twilight.

He is a gentleman, a sweetheart and the most respectful man you know - he would never dare to degrade you in any possible situation.

Therefore Shen is more eager to call you ma’am or love, or with the relationship ongoing - just a simple my gorgeous wife.

When it comes to petnames, he is a simple man - he desires a sweet and adoring confession, like handsome or just his own name. It always sounds heavenly when it comes as a hot whisper of pleasure from your mouth.

Smut: Sir Gideon Ofnir x F!Reader

Sir Gideon Ofnir (Elden Ring) x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: Smut, Age Difference (all characters portrayed are 18+ legal adults), light possessive behavior, orgasm delay/denial, plot what plot/porn without plot, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, kind of mask kink

Synopsis: In the midst of a perilous quest for an item, a strong and compelling bond begins to flourish between you and Sir Gideon Ofnir. As the shattered ruins of the once majestic royal capital provide a haunting backdrop, a shared moment by the crackling fire ignites a passionate and electric encounter that transcends the boundaries of your mission.

Note: First time writing Smut, so have mercy on me! Shout-out to @velvet-apricots Without her this fanfic would not have been possible

The wind howls eerily through the streets of Leyndell, now littered with rubble and the decaying remains of past grandeur. Amidst the ruined splendor lie traces of once-luxuriant opulence - shimmering gold, ornately designed mosaics, and colossal statues that bore witness to the lost glory of days gone by.

Despite these reminders of former wealth and power, Leyndell exudes an air of somberness, a sense of hopeless desolation that permeates its walls.

As Sir Gideon Ofnir leads the way into a dimly lit chamber devoid of furniture, save for a crackling fire burning brightly amidst piles of rubble, your heart races with anticipation.

The room is ensconced in a vibrant tapestry of nature's embrace. Overgrown with lush plants and entwined roots, it exudes an enchanting aura. Bookshelves, adorned with glistening golden ornaments, stand as silent sentinels, guarding the treasures of knowledge within. As you step inside, the air becomes an intoxicating blend of damp earth and the intoxicating perfume of blossoming flowers, beckoning you further into this forgotten sanctuary. Your eyes are drawn to the majestic columns and intricate golden accents that adorn every corner, a testament to the opulence that once graced these hallowed walls.

You both have been searching for rare items in the Leyndell Royal Capital.

While it seems unlikely to find anything valuable among all the wreckage, the thrill of exploring such places fills you with excitement and anticipation. This very intensity, fueled by adrenaline and desire, slowly ignites a flame within you both.

With every step closer to the smoldering embers, you feel your body grow increasingly restless, yearning for relief from the mounting pressure simmering beneath your clothes. Unable to resist any longer, Gideon moves toward you, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

His touch sends waves of warmth cascading down your spine, sparking an uncontrollable surge of need deep within your core.

With the faint glow casting mysterious shadows across the walls, it seems like some secret hideaway where lovers would find solace amid the chaos outside. Unbeknownst to him, you feel an irresistible pull towards him, an almost uncontrollable urge to explore his body. 

Despite everything, his gaze softens as it settled upon yours. "This war-torn city may seem barren," he begins, his voice husky yet gentle, "but tonight, I wish for us to make our own sanctuary."

As his fingers grazes your cheek, sending delicious chills down your spine, you could no longer resist the undeniable attraction you feel for him. Desire burns within you, igniting the embers of raw passion buried deep inside.

Yearning to feel his flesh against yours, you reach out to him tentatively.

Gently grasping his hand, you guide it upwards until it rests beneath your cloak, exploring the contours of your soft body. The silk fabric slithered off, leaving your breasts exposed and aching for his touch. Your breath hitches as his calloused hands trace circles around your supple curves, eliciting moans of desire.

"This...this is so forbidden," you whisper, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and apprehension, as your fingertips delicately trace the contours of his armor. "The age gap...it feels wrong, so wrong." His touch lingers on your cheek, a gentle caress that sends shivers down your spine. Slowly, his hand glides downward, inching closer to your chest, igniting a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within you. "Don't worry," he breathes against your ear, his voice dripping with reassurance and a hint of mischief. "The boundaries we defy, the passions we explore...they transcend the constraints of time. It's more than fine."

As if drawn by an invisible force, Gideon Ofnir hovers over you, his heavy breath melding seamlessly with yours. Feeling his dick pressing against your leg, you slowly part your legs further apart, inviting him closer. 

You gaze in awe at his resplendent armor, gleaming like a constellation of stars illuminated by the dancing flames. A surge of longing fills your voice as you whisper, "Could you, just for a moment, remove your mask? I need to see you."

Gideon Ofnir, his voice tinged with dark allure, responds, "Not yet, my love. Allow me to savor this exquisite anticipation, relishing the sight of you vulnerable and quivering before me."

His large hands remove every piece of cloth from your body. It feels erotic having such skilled hands removing your clothes. Every inch of your skin becomes visible under his expertise. Naked before him, you revel in your vulnerability, feeling incredibly turned on knowing someone who is so capable will be seeing you nude.

Feasting his eyes on your body, his arousal intensifies. With his hands firmly holding onto your waist, he pulls you close.

"My, my... you look so perfect like this. Shivering under my gaze", he says.

You feel a surge of pride mixed with excitement. Reaching forward, you stroke the back of his armor, lingering there tenderly while brushing your lips along his mask.

You shiver as the chill of his armor presses against your skin, sending a tantalizing wave of sensation coursing through your body.

His rough, callused fingers tease and pinch your nipples, causing you to arch your back involuntarily. Moaning softly, you grind your hips against his growing erection, seeking release from the torment building inside you. He kneads and squeezes your ass, his thumbs circling your entrance.

Your hands instinctively reach for his armored thighs, attempting to guide him closer, deeper into you. His frame presses against your sensitized skin, evoking images of conquest and dominance.

You lay down on a table. You try to control the soft little whimpers leaving your mouth when Gideon teases your entrance. He plunges his fingers deep inside you, his movements are relentless and skilled.

He knows exactly what makes you squirm and scream, driving you mad with pleasure. You can tell from the intensity in his eyes, he enjoys making you beg for more. You open your mouth, preparing to say something, anything, but words escape you as you’re caught in a whirlwind of ecstatic emotions.

"We're going to fuck right here? What if someone sees us?" You say it with an edge of fear.

"I don't care if someone sees us. I need you, now."

Gideon enters you, burying himself entirely within your wet heat. You both groan loudly, echoing throughout the room.

Embracing the moment, you entwine your legs around his shoulders, drawing him deeper still. Clenching your inner muscles, you buck your hips rhythmically, meeting each thrust with enthusiasm.

"Oh, darling, you're really not that innocent, are you?" Every stroke drives you ever closer to the edge of blissful ecstasy. Increasingly aware of how tightly your sheath envelops him, Gideon picks up pace. His powerful movements match the ferocity of your cries as you surrender yourself fully to him.

"You look so perfect like this. An absolute mess. You have a beautiful young, soft body." murmured Gideon Ofnir, appreciating your form thoroughly.

You lift yourself up slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and locking your legs behind his, creating a tantalizing position.

Gideon Ofnir finds it hard to contain his excitement as he reaches down to play with your breast.

Grasping the sensitive bud, he begins to tweak and massage it, watching intently as the color rises in your face. Meanwhile, he continues to penetrate you deeply, claiming possession of your body and soul.

"It’s just me and you now," Gideon murmurs softly, planting a kiss on your lips.

Your body shivers with delight as he plunges deeper into your core, claiming every corner of your being.

Each time he withdraws, only to thrust again, harder than before, bringing you ever closer to the peak of pure ecstasy. Your muscles quiver, ready to snap at any second, as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins.

"Please...oh, please," you whimper, your voice laced with a desperate yearning. "Take off your mask." Every plea that escapes your lips is a testament to the overwhelming desire that consumes you.

A smile curls on his lips as he observes your surrender. "Begging is a good look for you, my love," he murmurs, his voice dripping with a sinful delight. With a deliberate slowness, he begins to peel away the mask, unraveling the enigma that hides his true face. The anticipation swells, thick with anticipation and a heady blend of fascination and trepidation.

The gleaming metal falls away, exposing his determined features framed by gray hair. Even without his helmet, his eyes remain shielded, adding to his mystique.

You lean in, captivated by the sight of his weathered face illuminated by the flickering flames. You watch closely as he unfastens his chainmail, layer by layer. Each link reveals a new scar, another battle won, a testament to his resilience.

Caressing his arms, you trace patterns of old wounds hidden beneath the smooth surface of his skin. This rugged exterior belies the tenderness found within; a gentleness reserved exclusively for those who earn his trust.

Leaning in, you place a tender kiss on his lip, savoring the salty taste of him. 

"I’m yours. Only yours", you whisper against his lips.

The warmth of his stare held a mix of hunger and tenderness; they were feelings so powerful; words alone couldn’t express them adequately.

You appreciate his beauty. You start moaning, as he starts to thrust against you.

Every movement made your entire body feel electric with pleasure. His rough, calloused palms pressed against your hip bones, giving you goosebumps and heightening your sensitivity.

His piercing gray eyes met yours, sparkling with unspoken promises. "Don't close your eyes. Look at me. Let me see the desire burning within them", he growls seductively, gripping your hips more securely, pulling you closer.

It dawned on you, then, why people say that love is blind.

Amidst the smoldering ruins of war-torn cities and the endless cycle of life and death, you discovered true companionship in the eyes of this Stoic Tarnished. Your hearts beat as one, your souls are connected, intertwined, and bound forever.

Gideon's strong arms encircle you protectively, your bodies moving in harmony. It is an age-old dance of love and lust, fueled by the mutual longing that has brought you here.

Each touch sends ripples throughout your entire being, intensifying the sensuality coursing through every nerve. With unwavering intensity, Gideon Ofnir moves closer, his lips brushing lightly against yours before plunging deeper. His tongue teases and dances with yours, driving you wild with anticipation. The tender kiss turns into something fierce, his teeth nipping playfully at your lower lip as he pulls away, only to return even more hungrily than before.

Gideon's eyes narrow as he abruptly stops his movements, his grip on your waist tightening. A cruel smirk plays on his lips as he leans in, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Not yet, darling. You don't get to come until I say so."

He pulls out of you entirely, leaving you feeling empty and frustrated. Gideon's hand trails down your body, his touch teasing and maddeningly gentle. He circles his fingers around your sensitive bud, but doesn't apply the pressure you so desperately crave. "You see, lass, I control every aspect of your pleasure. Your release is in my hands," he taunts, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're going to have to beg for it. Beg me to let you come."

He continues to stroke and tease you, his touch sending shivers of need coursing through your body. Gideon leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "Tell me how much you want it. How badly you need to come. Beg for it."

The ache between your legs intensifies, and the need for release becomes unbearable. You find yourself succumbing to his dominance, to the power he holds over your pleasure. With a desperate edge to your voice, you plead, "Please, Gideon. Let me come. I need it. I need you."

A wicked grin spreads across Gideon's face as he finally relents, his fingers applying the pressure you crave. The pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you ride the waves of ecstasy. He watches you, his expression one of smug satisfaction as he revels in the control he has over your pleasure.

Without a word, he positions himself back at your entrance and thrusts inside you once again, his movements forceful and unrelenting. His grip on your hips tightens as he sets a punishing rhythm, his hips meeting yours with a primal intensity. The sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin fills the room, echoing with the raw passion between you. Gideon's voice is filled with a mix of dominance and lust as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You can't get enough of me, can you? Your body craves my touch, my control. You're mine to use, to pleasure." His thrusts grow faster and harder, driving you towards the edge once more. Gideon's grip on your waist leaves marks, a testament to his possessiveness. 

As the rhythmic movements continue, your body becomes a symphony of pleasure. Pleasure swells inside you, reaching its crescendo, and finally bursts forth in glorious abandon.

Lost in a sea of ecstasy, you cry out his name, unable to hold back anymore.

With his own climax approaching, Gideon Ofnir quickens his strokes, as his control slips away. As you reach the crest of pleasure together, he slides deep inside you one last time, pulsing powerfully.

Exhausted and spent, Gideon collapses beside you. He traces gentle circles around your checks, brushing the locks off your forehead. As he studies your sleeping visage, the intensity of his regard seemed almost tangible.

The moonlight casts a dreamlike luminescence over your body, rendering it ethereally beautiful. The silhouette of your profile stood proud against the wall, highlighting the sharp angles of your nose and jawline. Yet despite your delicate appearance, you possessed a steely resolve, evident in your unflinching gaze and steadfast determination during training sessions. You were more than a pretty face – you were a force to be reckoned with.

During these quiet moments, Gideon allowed himself to admire the bond forming between you two.

For someone so young, your understanding of the world around you far exceeded that of most of your peers. It amazed him how swiftly you assimilated knowledge and developed skills beyond your years. However, your innocence remained undeniable, especially when it came to matters of the flesh.

Despite your shared desire for physical gratification, Gideon takes immense satisfaction in mentoring you in the ways of passion. While other men might see you merely as a sexual object, Gideon views you as a worthy partner capable of satisfying his needs intellectually, emotionally, and physically.

I'd be interested!

Searching for Roleplay

I'm looking for: High-Literate Roleplay involving Jhin and Hwei.

Here is a link to my blog, and the information involving this pair.

Me and My Writing Drafts: A Rollercoaster of Emotions

Me: stares at the screen Okay, time to write the next masterpiece!

Also Me: opens a new document Let's do this!

Brain: sends a million ideas at once Write about cats! No, wait, aliens! No, wait, a cat-alien invasion!

Me: creates multiple drafts simultaneously Why have one idea when you can have ten?

Me: scrolls through the drafts folder Ah, yes, my precious babies. So many possibilities, so little time.

Also Me: starts hyperventilating How can I choose just one? They're all my brainchildren!

Brain: mocking voice Remember that brilliant idea you had at 2 a.m.? Yeah, that one. Write about that!

Me: looks at the time It's 2 a.m. again. Of course, brain, why not torture me with more ideas when I should be sleeping?

Also Me: cries internally How can I ever finish anything when my brain is a chaotic writing factory?

Brain: whispers Hey, remember that unfinished draft from three years ago? Yeah, let's revive it!

Me: gasps The ghost of an unfinished draft haunting my writing career! Brilliant!

Also Me: clutches drafts tightly One day, my darlings, one day I'll conquer you all!

Me: sighs The struggle of a writer with too many drafts is real. But hey, at least I'll never run out of material!

Art's Silent Language (Lukai Hwei x GN!Reader)

Warnings: small injury

Chapter 2: The Hidden Canvas

(part 1 here)

Summary: Hwei stumbles upon your secret art place, finding art books that showcase artwork resembling his own. This discovery leads him to realize that you have been studying his work. Simultaneously, you come across Hwei's secret art pieces, exposing a remarkable and dark talent within him. As the sun sets, a conversation between you and Hwei unfolds, initially filled with concern but escalating into an argument.

The hot golden sand shifts beneath Hwei's feet as he treks through the ruins, brushing aside low hanging vines and crumbling walls. Sweat gathers on his brow in the afternoon heat, but he presses on, driven by a singular goal - to find you.

The ruins, once a grand testament to opulence and extravagance, now stand as a faded testament to the passage of time. Ornate carvings adorn the crumbling walls, their intricate details fade and wear, barely recognizable. Delicate plasterwork, once a showcase of artistic prowess, hangs in tatters, revealing the skeleton of the structure beneath.

Hwei steps further into the ruin, his footsteps echo through the desolate halls, a melancholic symphony of solitude. The remnants of what were once grand chambers and lavish salons now lie in ruins, their faded grandeur whispering tales of a time long past.

The ceilings, once adorned with elaborate frescoes, lose their luster, their colors mute and fade with the passage of time.

Chipped and cracked mirrors, remnants of a once luxurious vanity, reflect a distorted image of Hwei as he passes by.

Nature begins to reclaim the space, with tendrils of ivy and moss intertwining with the remnants of the architecture. Vines snake their way through broken windows, casting intricate shadows on the worn marble floors below. It is as if the ruin itself becomes a living canvas, merging the beauty of nature with the faded splendor of human creation.

Hwei knows that you have a secret place, a sanctuary where you pour your heart and soul into your drawings. He believes that he will find you there, lost in the depths of your artistic expression. He can barely wait to show you his latest art idea.

Over the past months, the two of you have formed a close bond through sharing your works in progress, debating techniques late into the night by the light of the moons. You understand each other in a way few others can.

Yet as Hwei picks his way deeper into the ruins, he finds no signs of life. Only your discarded paintings from past sessions remain - landscapes, portraits, glimpses into vibrant imagined worlds. Your attention to detail astounds him, as it always does.

In the corner of the room, Hwei stands, his gaze fixated on the artwork studies and meticulous notes spread out before him.

The atmosphere is filled with a sense of abandonment, as if time has forgotten this place. The room is dimly lit, with shards of sunlight piercing through cracks in the worn-out wooden shutters, casting golden rays upon the dusty air. The air itself carries a musty scent, a reminder of the forgotten years.

As Hwei examines the studies, his eyes sparkle with delight. You have taken the time to study his art, to delve deep into the intricacies of his creations. He feels a surge of gratitude and validation, knowing that his work has resonated with another soul. It is a rare and cherished feeling, as if he has found a kindred spirit in the realm of art.

With gentle fingers, Hwei picks up a notebook filled with meticulous sketches and annotations. The pages are worn and aged, evidence of the countless hours spent in thoughtful contemplation. Each stroke and line captures the essence of his art, the emotions, and stories he seeks to convey.

Hwei's eyes wander across the room, and his gaze falls upon a stack of sketchbooks tucked away in a dusty corner.

With anticipation, he reaches out and pulls one of them towards him. These are the studies of his artworks that he has never shown to his temple masters, the hidden pieces that represent his unfiltered desires and untamed creativity.

As he flips through the pages, Hwei's heart sinks. Each sketch holds a glimpse into a world of imagination that he has kept locked away.

These are the art pieces that are deemed too unconventional, too unrestrained for the watchful eyes of his masters.

Hwei's eyes flicker across the room, drawn to a glimmering display of well-crafted jewelry nestled amongst the art and sketches. With cautious curiosity, he approaches the collection, his fingers trembling with anticipation and intrigue. Each piece is a testament to the skill and dedication of its creator, someone who pours their heart and soul into the art of jewelry-making.

As Hwei lifts a delicate necklace, he marvels at the intricate design and the meticulous attention to detail. The craftsmanship is exquisite, capturing the essence of nature's beauty in every shimmering gem and carefully wrought silver. He can feel the passion and dedication that goes into creating each piece, a resonance that echoes his own artistic journey.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Meanwhile, you cautiously enter Hwei's room, your heart racing with a mix of curiosity and worry. You also have been searching for him.

Upon adjusting to the gloomy atmosphere, your eyes are immediately drawn to a large canvas placed against the wall.

The artwork before you is a revelation, a powerful testament to Hwei's talent. It is unlike anything you have seen before, an embodiment of surrealism that both fascinates and unnerves you.

The canvas depicts a haunting forest, its trees swathed in shades of black and grey that seem to devour the light around them. The atmosphere is heavy with an eerie stillness, and the clouds overhead are painted in dark blues and purples, casting a sense of foreboding. It is as if the darkness itself has taken physical form within the artwork.

Your gaze follows the brushstrokes that reveal a glimpse of sunlight penetrating the dense foliage. But even the rays of light are tinged with darkness, painted in shades of orange and red, as if symbolizing a raging inner fire. The contrast between the somber trees and the fiery light creates a chilling atmosphere, as if the very essence of Hwei's inner turmoil has been captured on the canvas.

To your surprise and shock, hidden among the twisted branches and shadows are barely visible demon-like creatures. Their distorted forms and malevolent presence send a shiver down your spine.

The details are so vivid, yet subtly hidden, as if they are meant to be discovered only by those who dare to venture deeper into the artwork's eerie depths.

The demon-like creatures, once mere brushstrokes on the canvas, begin to stir. Their twisted forms contort and writhe, as if they are breaking free from the confines of the artwork. Your eyes widen in horror as their eyes, glowing with an otherworldly light, fixate on you.

Panic sets in as you realize they are no longer confined to the world of art; they are now tangible.

The first demon, with elongated limbs and a hunched posture, scuttles towards you on all fours. Its cracked, pale skin is stretched taut across its skeletal frame, revealing sinewy muscles that writhe beneath. Its face, contorted into a grimace, holds eyes that burn like fiery coals, casting an eerie glow upon its surroundings. Jagged teeth, sharp as razors, jut out from its deformed mouth, dripping with a viscous, black ichor.

Another demon, with a grotesquely elongated neck and a face that resembles a twisted visage of anguish, floats eerily above the ground. Its elongated limbs end in razor-sharp claws that scrape against the floor, leaving deep gouges in their wake. Its translucent, ethereal form seems to flicker and distort, as if it is constantly shifting between dimensions. Hollow, empty eyes peer out from sunken sockets, devoid of any trace of humanity.

Suddenly, one of the demons lunges forward, its grotesque hand wrapping around your trembling arm with a vice-like grip. The sensation is horrifyingly real, as if their malevolence has transcended the boundaries of paint and canvas. Despair and terror grip your soul as you struggle against the demon's relentless pull.

With a surge of adrenaline, you summon every ounce of strength within you and manage to wrench your arm free from the demon's clutches. The sensation of liberation is accompanied by a surge of relief, but the horror is far from over. Without looking back, you sprint away from the painting, each step echoing in the room.

Glancing over your shoulder in anticipation of the pursuing demons, an eerie sight greets your eyes.

The painting remains motionless, as if frozen in time. The demons, once animated and menacing, are now still, their malevolence trapped within the confines of the artwork.

You stand there, your heart pounding, trying to comprehend Hwei's artistic expression. You have never known him to delve so deeply into the macabre or to conjure such haunting imagery. It is a revelation, a glimpse into a side of him you had never imagined existed.

In that moment, you understand that Hwei possesses a talent that reaches far beyond what you had previously believed. His ability to capture the darkness and transform it into art is both unsettling and mesmerizing.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

As you venture back to your secret art place, a secluded haven where you can immerse yourself in your creative process, you are taken aback by an unexpected sight. There, standing amidst the vibrant artworks and sketches that adorn the walls, is none other than Hwei himself.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you realize that Hwei has stumbled upon your collection of art studies, meticulously crafted to capture, and understand the essence of his creations. You never intend for anyone, especially not the artist himself, to discover your private exploration of his art.

Hwei examines the sketches with curiosity and intrigue. It is as if he can see the depth of your admiration and the effort you have put into unraveling the secrets of his work. The vulnerability of having your hidden passion exposed makes you feel exposed in turn.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Breaking the silence, Hwei's voice carries a hint of surprise and gratitude.

"You honor me by studying my art," he says, his tone tinged with disbelief. "But I must confess that I do not believe I deserve such admiration."

You pause for a moment, taking in his words before responding. "Hwei, your art is nothing short of extraordinary," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "The way you bring your visions to life, with vibrant colors and captivating imagery, it is truly remarkable. You have a gift, and it deserves all the admiration it receives."

"I appreciate your kind words," he murmurs softly. "But sometimes, I cannot help but feel that my art falls short of the beauty I envision in my mind."

Hwei turns around, his eyes scanning the walls of your secret room, filled with artworks and inspirations.

He poses a question that lingers in the air, "Don't you feel lonely living in your own little world?"

A smile graces your lips. "Don't you feel powerless living in other people's worlds?" you reply softly.

His brow furrows in curiosity, and you continue. "Art, in all its diverse expressions, holds a captivating allure for us as human beings. We are instinctively drawn to music, poems, quotes, writing, and visual art because, at our core, we yearn for companionship. We possess an intrinsic desire to escape the clutches of solitude. We seek solace in the knowledge that we are not drifting into the depths of madness alone, but that there are others who comprehend the intricate nuances of our emotions. The profound connection that art fosters satiates our hunger for assurance, affirming that our thoughts and emotions are shared by kindred spirits."

"Hwei, I stumbled upon your secret artwork in your room, and I must say, it's truly beautiful. The way you bring your artistic visions to life is awe-inspiring. But... I can't ignore the sense of unease that it evokes in me. There's something dangerous hidden within your art, something that makes me worry about you."

Caught off guard by the expectation that you would understand and appreciate his creations without reservations, Hwei's expression hardens as he listens to your words. His voice carries a hint of anger as he responds, "You are supposed to understand, to appreciate the depths of my art. It's not just about beauty; it's about expressing the complexity of emotions and experiences. Can't you see the power and meaning behind it?"

The conversation quickly escalates into a heated argument, with your emotions colliding like waves in a stormy sea.

Hwei's frustration and disappointment fuel his words, while your concerns and fear make your voice tremble. Your once harmonious exchange of ideas turns into a clash of conflicting perspectives.

In the heat of the moment, Hwei's control over his paint magic falters. Unintentionally, a surge of colorful energy bursts forth from him, colliding with you. The impact sends you stumbling backward, pain radiating through your body.

Hwei's eyes widen in horror as he realizes what he has done. "No! I... I didn't mean to hurt you," he stammers, rushing to your side. His anger quickly transforms into guilt and remorse, his hands trembling.

Through gritted teeth, you manage to speak, your voice strained with both pain and disappointment. "Your art is undeniably captivating, but there's a darkness within it that I can't ignore. I wanted to understand, to support you, but I never expected it to lead to this. We need to find a way to control your power before it causes harm to others."

Burdened by guilt, Hwei feels the weight of the pain he has unintentionally caused, prompting a surge of remorse. Overwhelmed by the situation, he harbors an intense desire to distance himself, believing it best to leave you and prevent any further harm.

But before he can voice his thoughts, you look into his eyes, your voice filled with determination and an unwavering love. "Hwei, I want you. All of you," you say, your words cutting through his guilt. "Your flaws, your mistakes, your imperfections. I want you, and only you."

He kisses you. Without warning, without permission. Without even deciding to do it, but simply because he couldn't have done anything else. He needs that breath you are holding.

He knows he has no right to touch you, to crave you like air, but he does both. And when he puts his mouth on yours, he recognizes the taste of you, as if you have been made just for him.

With a gentle yet firm touch, Hwei's hand found its way to your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your skin. The touch ignited a spark within you, sending waves of electricity coursing through your body. The softness of his touch contrasted with the fervor building between you, intensifying the desire that burned within.

With a whisper against your lips he says, “I never used to let people come too close. But then there was you, that came in and settled in the depths of my soul.”

Feeling the magnetic pull between you, you close the remaining distance, your lips meet in a passionate and hungry kiss. The world around you fades away as your mouths move in perfect harmony, exploring each other with fervent desire. The taste of Hwei, sweet and intoxicating, consumes your senses, leaving you craving more.

With his hand still cupping your cheek, Hwei tightens his grip, drawing you closer and intensifying the intimacy of the moment. His other hand finds its way to the small of your back, drawing you tightly against his body. The sensation of his warmth against your skin sends shivers of ecstasy cascading through you, igniting a fire that burns with an insatiable hunger.

"My biggest fear," Hwei whispers, "is that eventually, you will see me the same way I see myself."

You bury your face in his shoulder as he holds you. All that you could think is that you need him. You need his arms around you, need him to hold you and whisper that you would find a way to be together.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

While walking back to the Koyehn temple after your argument, a soft silence envelops the air. The tension between you slowly dissipates, and without saying a word, your hands find each other, intertwining gently. The moonlight casts a gentle glow upon both of you.

In that moment, you turn to Hwei, your voice laced with vulnerability. "I am scared of the love I have for you," you confess, your words carrying the weight of truth. "Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it."

As you find yourself gazing up at the vast expanse of the night sky, the twinkling stars above serve as a gentle reminder of the intricate dance of love that unfolds within the human heart. The eternal beacons of light, scattered across the celestial canvas, evoke a sense of both awe and contemplation.

In the presence of those luminous specks, you can't help but ponder the origins of our existence. A whisper of wonder escapes your lips as you wonder if, in some cosmic design, humanity might trace its roots back to the stars themselves. The concept of being made from stardust resonates deeply within you, igniting a spark of connection to the vastness of the universe.

However, as you reach the temple's entrance, a figure stands in the shadows, patiently waiting. There is something unsettling about his presence, a feeling that sends a shiver down your spine.

You should have listened to your feeling.