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@feelthemadnessinside
Introducing…..
Hello!
I’m Luna- and I love to talk😋
Side blog: @lostinthelights777
Copyright Disclaimer ©️ feelthemadnessinside- All works are owned by me and I do not allow reposting or translations- only reblogging
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There is only one place in the entire world where blue roses are now cultivated naturally- his estate;
He calls you a blue rose- something so rare that it does not grow naturally, only genetically engineered. Just like you, who was engineered through all you had endured and bloomed so beautifully.
The years that stripped you down to nothing and then kept digging. But you had clung tight through pressure, through heat, through the alchemy of surviving what should have destroyed you.
And somewhere in all that- somewhere in the long, lonely work of becoming- you had turned blue.
Not sad. Rare.
The kind of rare that makes people stop breathing. The kind of rare that doesn't happen by accident.
The garden was a gift, an ode to your courage, an offering at the altar of your wisdom.
A team of florists, botanists and genetic engineers had been brought on-board to cultivate a garden of blue roses just for you.
When he had presented you the garden, you couldn't speak, your voice lost in awe of the sprawling blue before you.
You touched a petal. No dye, no residue- these were real. Not the cheap kind from florists, the ones dipped in dye that bled blue when the water touched them. These were born this way- genes rewritten, nature persuaded, the universe politely asked to bend its rules just this once, you realise with surprise and something overwhelming that is frighteningly close to what one feels when a prayer comes true after years of begging at temples.
He had made something impossible- no matter how insignificant in the world's eyes- happen. For you.
"I wanted you to see yourself," he said, standing at the garden's edge. "The way I see you."
You look up at him.
"You are rare. Mystical. Impossible." he says "You were never meant to bend, you were a ripple in the fabric of this reality. And you have chosen to be mine."
Your heart soars, your lips tremble and your eyes well up.
You never realised you were so... beautiful in his eyes, you think as you look at the garden that looks something out of a fairy-tale.
He learned the names of every flower you loved. He learned why you loved them. He learned that you stopped believing in blue roses when you were thirteen, when someone told you they didn't exist.
"I want you to believe again," he said.
And now he had built you the rarest garden in the world.
A tribute to his blue rose. The one who shouldn't have existed, the one the world tried to squash as soon as you drew breath and tried to make your own way. But the one who survived against all the odds anyways, and found their way to his arms.
You were engineered by everything that tried to kill you. You bloomed anyway.
-- Sylus, Xavier (LADS); Geto Suguru (JJK); Hayato Suo (Wind Breaker); Qifrey (Witch Hat Atelier); Satael (Indulgence); Winter Verdandi, Callisto Regulus (Villains are destined to die); Izek Omerta (How to win my husband over); Cassis Pedelian (Roxana); Helio Niccolò, Dekis Solon (Your Throne); Noah Wynknight (Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion); Shi Yan (Love by Mistake); Aaron Hunter (Flashlight); Dante Maroni, Alpha Villanova (The Darkverse series by RuNyx); Thatcher Pierson, Silas Hawthorne (The Hollow Boys series by Monty Jay); Christian Allister (The Made series by Danielle Lori ); Julian Callahan (The Vipers series by Rina Kent); Aiden King, Jonathan King (the Royal Elite series by Rina Kent); Landon King (Legacy of Gods series by Rina Kent)
I’m in a writer’s block;
Sukuna spread your legs and show hole
One tip that always holds true if you want to improve your writing is: READ MORE BOOKS
General Physician!Zayne who is there for his patient’s routine consultation and the patient reveals that her boyfriend tries to put his balls in the condom too and since Zayne has to remain professional, he’s holding in his laugh so bad he’s about to pee😂😂😂;
"So you see... Dr. Li. Umm this is something that's a bit personal? Are you sure you'd be fine with it?"
Zayne understood what she meant- it was something sexual.
No problem. Nothing new for him.
“It is fine if you wish to speak with me regarding intimate health. Though I should refer you to our gynaecologists for any examinations."
"It's not medical. I just want some advice."
Okay... but why is the she fidgeting? Zayne thinks but waits for her to speak.
The poor patient is so embarrassed- she knows she should probably talk with a sex therapist or a gynaecologist about this, but Zayne has been her GP for a while and she knows he's reliable and won't lead her astray.
So she gathers the courage and tells him-
"Whenever we- me and my boyfriend- initiate sex, he...he insists on putting his balls in the condom too."
Silence.
He blinks once. Twice.
The words replay in his head like a glitching audio file, each repetition more absurd than the last.
"How can I convince him that he doesn't need to to do that? He won't listen to me."
Zayne? He has to make an active effort to contain the snort that's threatening to escape his nose.
An effort that's exerting force on his bladder.
He knows the patient is deeply embarrassed, and his laughter will only make things worse.
His pen hovers perfectly still over his notepad. His expression remains unchanged- the same calm, attentive neutrality he wears for every patient consultation.
Inside, his diaphragm is seizing.
His balls. In the condom.
“I see,” he says, and his voice comes out almost normal. A fraction too measured. Like he’s reading a medication label out loud.
He shifts in his chair. Subtle. Just adjusting his posture. Definitely not because his bladder is starting to register alarm.
“Just to clarify,” Zayne says, and he has to pause. Breathe through his nose. The air whistles slightly. “He is attempting to fit both his… testicles and his penis into a single condom.”
“Yes!” The patient throws her hands up. “He says it’s ‘extra protection’ and that I ‘don’t understand male anatomy.’”
The pressure builds behind his sternum.
Zayne’s jaw tightens. The muscles around his mouth are doing something dangerous- a twitch, a betrayal-in-waiting.
You don’t understand male anatomy.
Lord above, he was going to urinate on his own office floor.
“Dr. Li? Are you okay? You look a little-”
“Fine.” The word comes out choked. He reaches for his water glass, mostly to hide the lower half of his face. The glass trembles faintly against his lips. “Completely fine. This is- ahem- a new one.”
His pelvic floor is doing heroic work right now. Absolutely heroic. He’s mentally reviewing every Kegel exercise he’s ever recommended to postpartum patients, and he’s praying.
“The condom,” he manages, setting the glass down with exaggerated care. “I assume it… fails to function as intended?”
“They break. Every time. And then he gets frustrated with the condom brand.”
Zayne makes a sound. It’s not quite a laugh. It’s closer to a goose being stepped on. He turns it into a cough into his elbow, but his eyes are watering.
“So what should I tell him?” the patient asks, looking at him hopefully.
What Zayne wants to say: Tell him to Google a diagram. Tell him to use his critical thinking skills. Tell him his testicles are not meant to be shrink-wrapped. Tell him to go attend a high-school sex education class.
What Zayne says, after a visible full-body pause where he stares at a spot on the wall and absolutely does not think about any of this:
“You may inform him- ha- that condoms are calibrated for penile circumference only. Adding testicular volume compromises structural integrity.” He presses his lips together. His leg is bouncing nervously under the desk. “Also. Semen is produced in the testicles, but it exits through the penis. Placing the testicles inside the condom does not provide additional protection against pregnancy or STIs. It simply creates… mechanical failure points.”
His voice cracked on penis. He’s twenty-seven years old. He’s a board-certified physician. He’s discussing a man putting his balls in a condom. A grown man old enough to have sex.
“So if I just tell him that-”
“Yes.” Zayne stands up abruptly. His chair wheels back. “Yes, tell him that. In those exact words. And if he continues to... to not listen-” He really is trying his best, he swears “... refer him to a urologist or our dedicated sex therapist. I will write the referral myself.”
The patient looks relieved. “Oh, thank you, Dr. Li. I knew you’d take it seriously.”
Zayne’s eye twitches.
He walks her to the door- walks carefully, mincingly, like a man crossing thin ice over a very deep lake- and closes it behind her.
For three seconds, he stands there, forehead pressed against the cool wood, breathing.
He returns to his desk silently, types out the referral and instructions, submits it into the patient's digital file.
Then he puts his head in his hands and laughs until his stomach hurts.
Goodness, what kind of men are women dating these days...
Is it just me or do y’all have like an fic idea in your head but write multiple versions of it slightly different for different characters?
So if you see the same trope/setting repeated in multiple fics of mine just know I wrote multiple drafts and liked them all so I changed up the characters and posted them😭😭
Someone said Sylus finally gets to play with a cat without them trying to run away from him🥲🥲
Playing bongos on his bubble butt oh she just like me
I wished this was a the MC turning into a cat concept was a multi-banner then I remembered Rafayel😂😂😂
I’m really blind in love and in lust because why do I wanna jump his bones despite this fugly camp counsellor ass outfit😅
Grand Duke!Zayne and you are so loud during sex that there is an unofficial consensus among the staff to avoid your wing at night completely, and most of the times during day after finishing essential housekeeping💀;
The heavy oak door to your chambers had barely clicked shut before Zayne's lips found your neck, his large hands already working at the laces of your nightgown.
"You're impatient tonight, Your Grace," you breathed, though you made no move to stop him.
"Hush." His voice was a low rumble against your skin. "I've been in council meetings for six hours listening to the old baron droning about grain taxes. Let me have this."
It doesn't take long till both your moans shadow the ominous creaking of the bed and the rattling of various ornaments in the room.
...
Your two handmaidens, Elara and Mina, look up as they hear the noise, before facing each other and shaking their heads, scurrying out before they traumatise their poor ears.
"I swear by the gods," Mina whispered, her cheeks flushed crimson even as she pressed a hand to her chest, "last week I went up to fetch my embroidery scissors. I forgot he'd returned from the border. The things I heard..."
Elara winced. "How long did it take you to recover?"
"Three days. I walked past the door at the wrong moment." Mina's voice dropped to a horrified hush.
They rounded the corner into the servants' stairwell, where the stone walls offered blessed, deadened silence.
"The new stable boy asked me yesterday why no one goes to the east wing after supper," Elara said, adjusting her wimple. "I told him it was being renovated."
"Renovated." Mina let out a choked laugh. "That's one word for it."
...
Down in the kitchen, the cook had taken to serving late-night tea with a knowing look and a sympathetic pat on the shoulder for any servant who emerged from the upper floors looking particularly haunted. The head housekeeper had a rotation schedule that mysteriously exempted the entire eastern corridor from evening duties. Even the guards had been known to draw straws for who had to walk the night patrol past the Grand Duke's chambers.
"The chandelier," one guard had whispered to another just last week, his face pale. "I watched it swaying. And no windows were open."
...
Upstairs, oblivious to the quiet terror they had inspired among the staff, Zayne's hand braced against the headboard as the bed (solid oak, reinforced twice by a skeptical carpenter) protested loudly beneath you two.
"Ah...Zayne...the bed..." He drove deeper, hooked his hips just so, and your warning dissolved into a sound that would have made a nun blush to the tip of her toes.
"Don't worry about the bed, my duchess," Zayne growls against your throat. "It's not more valuable than your pleasure."
He hikes your leg up higher over his shoulder and thrusts deeper, dissolving whatever you were about to say into a loud moan. ...
There is a thud and a sprinkle of plaster and ash, and a porcelain vase wobbling dangerously close to the edge of its console table, and your handmaidens, chef and two of the night guards stare at each other awkwardly.
"Do you think," whispered Elara, "they realize we can hear them from the kitchen?"
Mina finishes her tea, and produces a pack of earplugs "Not if I can help it. Take some, and goodnight." she stuffs two into her own and walks back to her quarters.
Just thought of Sukuna’s fat, juicy buttcheeks in a red thong and gave myself a girl-boner
This is Sukuna’s physique in my head
Just thought of Sukuna’s fat, juicy buttcheeks in a red thong and gave myself a girl-boner
Sometimes, you just gotta say ‘Sylus wouldn’t do this to me’ and move on with your life
Just remembered this and cackled😂😂😂
I believe Zayne gets flirted with quite a bit (I mean look at him), but he has a habit of brushing it off politely but firmly.
But sometimes people just don’t take the fucking hint, like right now;
Your eyes narrow as you come back from the restroom to see someone sitting a bit too close to Zayne, clearly trying to flirt while he just ignores the innuendos, not responding to their advances.
He’s visibly uncomfortable as the woman (dressed in a especially tight blazer, you note) persists, and your final straw is when she attempts to grab his biceps in a seemingly friendly gesture, but you know it’s anything but.
The vein in your forehead pulses (what? yes you are possessive over your man🙄) as you saunter over to him, casually sliding into his lap and planting a kiss right on his lips.
And he responds, his big, warm hands on your hip cushioning you on to his thigh. Risqué in a way no one had ever seen Dr Zayne being before.
You detach your mouth from his with a coherent smack and smile- a smile Zayne knows means trouble “Hope you didn’t miss me too much, handsome.” you wink before turning to the lady, who looks shocked at both your boldness and Zayne's response to you, as if just registering her presence.
Your eyes give her a casual once-over that’s even more dismissive than outright hostility.
“Who’s this, baby? A colleague of yours?”
The woman's hand, still hovering where she'd tried to grab Zayne's bicep, retreats like it's been burned.
"Ah- no, I'm from the... we were just discussing the-"
"She's just a medical rep." He says it without looking at her, his focus entirely on you. His thumb has started tracing small circles against the curve of your waist, absent and intimate all at once.
Ouch. You almost feel bad for the woman.
Almost.
The woman's painted smile freezes. "I- well. I see you're... occupied."
She gathers her things with shaking hands and flees.
The moment she's out of earshot, Zayne exhales- a quiet, controlled sound that's the closest he ever gets to a sigh of relief. His forehead drops briefly to your shoulder.
"You're a menace," he murmurs, planting a quick kiss to your shoulder.
"And you love it."
He lifts his head. The corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smile, but close. His eyes, contrary to his rebuke, are mirthful- he was enjoying this.
"I do," he admits, so low only you can hear "But next time, a warning before you sit in my lap in the middle of a ballroom." He shifts and you freeze, feeling the very large problem throbbing under your ass.
"Naughty Doctor...you enjoy acts of public indecency huh?" you grin and he groans. "You just love making me suffer don't you?"
"I do." you grin "You look hot all panting and sweating."
"You'll pay for this." his voice is a pained rasp and you giggle even more, knowing full well that he is not bluffing.
Sometimes, you just gotta say ‘Sylus wouldn’t do this to me’ and move on with your life
There’s something unsettling about Caleb that only children and old crones can sense