Winter Solstice Festival

[radiantwisdom]

Long ago, people lived in peace, bathed in the warmth of light. Everyone loved the light.
Then people began to fight over it. They wanted to keep it for themselves. And darkness was born in their hearts.
The darkness spread, swallowing the light and many people's hearts. It covered everything, and the world disappeared.
But small fragments of light survived... in the hearts of children.
With these fragments of light, children rebuilt the lost world.

The true light sleeps deep within the darkness. That's why the worlds are still scattered, divided from each other.
But someday, a door to the innermost darkness will open, and the true light return.

So listen, child.
Even in the deepest darkness, there will always be a light to guide you.
Believe in the light, and the darkness will never defeat you.
Your heart will shine with its power and push the darkness away.

Then....

On the Winter Solstice, the day of shortest light and greatest darkness, the Kingdom of Radiant Garden celebrates the hope which seeds from little lights within the hearts of its children. The ancient legends are told again among families, and each child is given a floating lantern made of fragile paper, which they are to steward carefully till sunset, when the lamps are lit.

Once the sky is dark, children with their families parade to the outer ring of the city, where they hold their lanterns aloft and send them skyward, often with a silent wish. It is said that these purest of hearts hold the greatest power of all. Once the lanterns have flown too high to be seen, the night sky explodes with a dazzling display of magnificent fireworks.
 

After the ceremony, there is a great feast held at the castle, which opens its doors to everyone. The food is warming, with music and laughter shared among all to chase the darkness away and keep spirits lively and bright. Solidarity, hope and good cheer are the virtues of the evening, and the young are treasured as precious sources of light for tonight and the continuing tomorrow.

Although many try to stay up through the whole night to greet the sunrise, Children traditionally are permitted to curl up exhausted from the festivities in their parents' beds.

 

...and Now.

A just few days before the solstice, Tron has alerted the users of some recovered records in the database. Pictures and personal journals of past midwinter festivals reawaken long-forgotten memories of the old traditions, and The Hollow Bastion Radiant Garden Restoration Committee has unanimously decided to reinstate the holiday this year.

Although the Kingdom is still under construction and not as populated, everyone is excited to make the most of reviving an old custom... even Ansem's former apprentices, who are sweeping away shadows and dust in the castle to prepare for a festive reception.

Luckily, there's just enough time to get the word out to the keybearers and friends in other worlds, as well as extend a very special invitation to the princesses of heart.. But will the looming threat of Xehanort's return and an invitation intercepted by one of Maleficent's minions turn the festival into a disaster?
 

 

Comments

[justasonginmyhead]

On any other night, in any other place, he would have listened immediately. The stakes of this game are very, very high, for both of them. There's no scolding and scandal waiting, if someone were to catch them, there is only separation and death and the undoing of everything Ienzo is trying, albeit somewhat half-heartedly, to accomplish. But tonight, he is a monster-- he has called himself one and Ienzo has agreed, and he feels daring and invincible, and he does not want Ienzo to be mad at him, in the morning, but he also does not feel like Ienzo ought to be able to control him, when he is unable, anymore, to even control himself.

"No." It is said whisper soft against the shell of Ienzo's ear and the shadow thing teasing him pushes inside him, simultaneous with one sliding against his mouth in a gag and the others tightening around the dishes so they do not rattle. The tendril isn't as large as the ones he typically uses for this purpose, but he wastes no time teasing, moving straight to outright fucking him with it immediately, all brutal, devouring darkness, even as the tendrils coiled around his cock are infinitely more teasing, soft, as they pull at him, "Later," he purrs, the promise of soft sheets and curled limbs, sensual and warm, while he takes him brutally fast in the middle of the hall.

[illicitresearch]

It is that hush of direct disobedience, that contrary refusal, which delights something base and primal him horridly...despite all the power he clings at, and all the security in knowing there are powerful people he can command at a word, the wild of the darkness is ever an exciting thing to play with past the point of fooling around. At the point where it becomes irrevocably dangerous.

Now, more than ten years later, in this moment he is right back where he started in the vices and addictions of things too strong and too willful, too consuming to take charge of.

It's a thin coil of shadow that is pushed up into him, thrusting deep, but it licks in and out so swiftly, forcing his muscles to throb and clutch in hurried pace, that he is crying against the gag in sobs that are muffled unnaturally by the dark. It feels great, pressing back into Gustave's arms and letting powdered crumbs and sugar tumble down his front, messily clinging to the deep green velvets and embroidered gold of his vest, finery he surely doesn't even deserve to be wearing.

When he does manage to pull and scramble and fight his way loose, breaking free of Gustave' body but not the stretchier hold of shadows, it's only to stumble a few feet forward and press his clutching wrists forearms and forehead and curling shoulders up against the cool of the nearest wall and thrust his backside out behind him, making muffled ragged noises and pushing up on his toes to rock and grind himself into the full of sensation. The tendrils haven't stopped their penetration, and his knees keep threatening to buckle.

It's always worth a very sick sort of moment's wondering, when the darkness enters him so thinly and curls so gracefully through his insides, just how much of it might hold if it continued to enter in, filled him completely, and didn't stop there. Its frictionless fluidity is frightening, especially with how swiftly the darkness can move, how little resistance his body can put up, how profound his pleasure from perversity that creatures of light should find intolerable. What or what if the darkness, slim and vile and living, rushed in at the dripping tip of his cock and mingled with all his fluids? It's the sort of thought that gives him miserable pains in his stomach, makes his gut writhe, puts bile at the back of his throat to swallow back down, just to imagine it.

And yet... and yet he swears he's all the harder for it, grunting against the shadow in his mouth.