Work Text:
The bijouterie was laid next to his head, his honey blonde hair splayed out across the bed, the candles beckoning with another one of their dances.
His two lovers lay at his sides, speaking philosophies, trying to calm him down from the old men’s words, nothing short of atrocities.
The Devaraja sighed, his thoughts anything but benign.
The man, splayed out and peeled out of his layers like a mandarin, laying oh so vulnerable, his scar ridden skin exposed.
One would call it beyond inappropriate, for one to dare look at the man blessed with golds and wine, like he was something more than divine.
His nails are long and round, gently trimmed, hard to maintain because from his position of power, he is pinned.
Blessed by the Sun Spirit, He gently mutters verses, his words are absent of curses.
The jewelry around his neck shined in the bioluminescence of the Sun’s glow, complimenting his features.
His eyes dilated, amber eyes flooded with desire, arms wrapped around the tan ambassadors neck, his back pressed up against the other warriors chest, her hands wandered down, down, down.
Their words turn from philosophies to eroticism,
Their fantasies are nothing but unadulterated paraphilia.
Time flows fast like water swaying in the ocean, Slow like the pacific, and agonizing, to be specific.
And throughout all of this, Zuko has only one sentence to say,
“Satyameva Jayate.”