#“...are you finding concubines for my son or for yourself????”

[bngrc]

Oh My General | 将军在上 Ep.08

LFMAO welcome home slut darling.

[ihavethedreamiesx]

Only You | Bang Chan [NSFW]

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.5k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, or this post.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Lee Know's <-

-> Changbin's <-

-> Felix's <-

Revised (1/31/25)

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turns the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid falls over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Doesn’t matter, you aren’t really reading it anyway. Already have several times. It’s nearly impossible to get books you haven't already read several times, or things that are actually interesting to you, because your father won’t let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you have, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it’s hard to get more, and so you’re once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafts in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You look over its various shades of brown feathers and you wonder if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don’t want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoes in your head, and you roll your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seems he’s right. You’ve had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stay around too long when your conversations turn from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually make them think. Looking out to the sky, you wonder if there’s anyone out there at all that wouldn’t mind your learned state.

 ~₸x₸~

On a day you’re actually able to go out, you’re grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You’re both wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn’t be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother will help you. As you pretend to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother is at the book seller. Rummaging through what they have, he holds a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nod to the shopkeeper and move on, instead looking at some shoes. You’re closer then to your brother, enough that you can see when he holds a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continues looking, likes he’s reserving it. When you catch his side glance, you shake your head no. Already have it. He sniffs, putting it back, and keeps looking. As you move on yourself, across the way, you watch a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He’s a great deal shorter; it almost makes you giggle, but you try to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, m’lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slips inside his shop, coming back with a book you’ve never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiles wide, and you’ve fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiles, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You aren’t able to react fast enough, and he catches you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he’s holding. It’s bound in what looks like leather and you’ve never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reaches under his stall and the man goes back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiles and then goes to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he does, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whisper to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hiss out, following after the man before he gets too far out of view. You hear your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurries after you anyway, making sure he doesn’t lose sight of you.

You finally manage to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He’s standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rests his arms behind his back. Right as your brother catches up with you, the man turns around, a playful smile on his face. It’s then you realize how gorgeous he is.

"Interested in this?" He turns toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you drop your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolds, grabbing the head covering. You’ve moved so fast, you’re already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he’s probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he’s still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother drapes the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reach for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother steps in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You roll your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you roll your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you want it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shove your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbles, but falls on his butt. The man holds the book out to you and with shaky hands you take it. The text is so incredibly foreign, and when you flips the book open, it doesn’t even look handwritten. Then again, you can’t be sure since it’s such a foreign script. Little symbols sit in the top corner of each page, and the words are horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter is so small, the book cramped with lines. It’s heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man holds the translation book up and you snatch it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolds, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You move toward a bench and sit down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it isn’t a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word means. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-can I translate it fully?" You look up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiles and your heart skips a beat, but you aren’t sure if it’s because he smiles, or what the smile means.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone is slightly teasing. You deflate then and he holds back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grows stern and you look between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man is smirking, and your eyes widen. What?

"Y-You're-" You meet your brother's gaze and you both fall to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touch your hands. Immediately, you realize how brazen your actions were. You’re doomed-

"Don't worry about it." He waves you both off and you stand, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glance back at the books. You wonder if the book seller even realizes who he is. Your brother sits up, but remains on one knee, if he stood, he’d be higher than the king. That is not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asks and you swallow hard, trying to get words out. You speak your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he tells your father about what happened, you’ll never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raises a brow, and you nod sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nods to your brother, and he tells him.

"Well, if you won’t mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~ʘᗩʘ~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabit, you wonder what is happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you feel like you just escaped with your life. You hear your mother being summoned to go to your father and it’s been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You hear a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wander around it. You open the shutters and your brother's head barely can look over the sill from where he stands on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whisper back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs feel week, you aren’t sure what to make of it. Your father has desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige isn’t actually very safe. Most adversaries tend to target the women closest to the king since they’re easier targets. You know the King is unwed, and that the palace officials are just as fed up with him as your father is with you. Sure, you’d rather marry someone for love, but that’s hard to do as a noble. But if you do…that means you can have access to the King's library. Is that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you’re fine with it. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gives you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you’ll happily do it.

~◕ω◕~

After the long meeting, the King leaves, and your mother comes to inform you of the results. You’re right, he wants you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen is much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king has a lot of say, but so does his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there’s a long selection process, but instead you’re brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interview you rather extensively, then finally, his mother enters. After more questions, she leaves with the officials and you’re left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories are in your hair, on your goreum is a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sit in your ears. You twist the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you’re waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reenters along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You’ve been approved.

~◕‿◕✿~

A grand dowry is sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings are sent in as well. You’re moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you’re beyond grateful that your chest of books makes it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you’re puts through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it takes for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King has spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he can spare. He doesn’t want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you’re sure your feelings are either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he tells you his name is Chan, of course it’s part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He prefers you call him that though, even if you only can in private. When he can, he’ll bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he says there isn’t time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seems just as passionate about knowledge as you are, and that makes you fall harder. And it appears to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he leaves before the time is improper, he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossoms red you’re sure, and he chuckles gently to himself as he leaves.

~◉_◉~

The wedding itself is…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You feel like you’re being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing is being before so many people. Your tutor is proud you’ve learned all of your etiquette so well and you’re ninety percent sure you do everything just right. By the time night falls, you’re beyond exhausted. You aren’t sure if you’re more excited about your marriage, which feels more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It’s nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits doesn’t turn him away like all of your other previous suitors.

Finally, though, everything is more or less complete. You’re wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You pick at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair is still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up makes your head feel heavy. It’s strange to have your hair up like that, but you’re going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it feels nice to have that weight, signifying you’re married, you honestly don’t want to take it out as much as you do want to. So, it stays. You’ve bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presume he too is washing up, and the longer he takes, the more nervous you get. Finally, the side door that leads further into the palace where the bath hall is opens. Your heart thuds against your rib cage as you see the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer has his headdress on, only the manggeon he wears under his crown is there. You wonder how long his hair is when down.

"My Queen." He smiles and you bite your lip, looking around almost like you’re checking to see if anyone’s around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He steps closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that have been drilled into you make you want to look away, but if he’s okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch is there, he follows him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitches, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you step just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He steps once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses move to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cups your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes meet his and you can’t keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirks, and you gasp as he kisses you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swims, trying desperately to match his pace. You haven't been kissed before, not like this. Chan himself has given you a few small pecks, but this is different. He’s claiming you.

His strong hands grip your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back goes even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huff, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdraws, you heave in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima falls to the floor, leaving you bare. You shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distract you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undoes the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pools at his feet, your eyes rapidly dance over him. You’re convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he’s gorgeous.

"Oh." You sigh and he huffs a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushes over him through the cloth, and you freeze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands run over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I’m getting there." Chan whispers in your ear, then he runs his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimper, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then move to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you’re pulled even closer, you feel his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulls away and you pout in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spins as he yanks you to him, lightly shoving you onto the raised bed. You huff, then squeak when he grabs your ankles, yanking you to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You try to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he’s too strong, his hands grip your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hums and your entire body jerks, back arching as you feel his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It’s hard to get words out since you can barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You hear him hum as he tastes you, and you flinch when his nose brushes your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shudder, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don’t want to hurt you." He finishes his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation makes you clench, and he rubs your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You try to do as he asks, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue leaves you, flicking your button again. Heat pools in your belly, rising fast and you logically know what’s coming, but have never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tosses back, and he groans at the crass word leaving you. Chan kisses your clit and that sends you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely register him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riles you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helps your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dull, then stop, and you finally recognize his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it doesn’t hurt, but it feels weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiles wide, his normal warm grin is hot with lust. You mewl when he starts to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seems to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight still." His thumb barely brushes your clit and your pussy clenches, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continues with the single digit and at some point, he decides to continue, and you let out a shuddering breath when he adds a second. That…doesn’t hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch is somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wonder how much his dick will make you sting.

"Oh, oh my-“ You try to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggle and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan adds a third finger, and you lift your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he can kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you notice the tent in his white pants, and you swallow hard. You don’t have any metric to go by since you have never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won’t fit." You whimper, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffs a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will~" His fingers crook up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shiver at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whine when he removes his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it is overwhelming, it does feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You prop on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment falls. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won’t fit." You gasp out and he has a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scoops you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head can rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding does nothing to quell the fire Chan has set on your skin, especially not when he prop himself over you.

"I love you." He leans down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggle at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cup his face, and he kisses you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitches one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hand back to your slick cunt. His fingers run through your arousal, then he pumps his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulls back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breaches your core, the heated burn sears through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arches, and your mouth hangs open in a quiet scream. You can’t tell whether it hurts or is such an intense pleasure your body malfunctions. His cock presses deeper, and you can feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love you’re just perfect~" He groans, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what feels like an eternity, he bottoms out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasp, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushes some sweat-damp strands of hair from your brow, and you shudder through some breaths.

"I-I don't know-" You’ve never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seems to be stopping and starting again over and over. He’s being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifts his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting fades, pleasure rising, and you can’t get words out again. He must notice the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinds into you slightly and, stronger than before, you cum.

"Woah." Chan forces himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shines on your skin as well as his. Your vision dots with stars and your head swims, you’re finally able to gasp for air, panting as you return to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He strokes your cheek with his thumb, and you hold his hand to your face with your own. You nod, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your whimper heightens into a moan as he pulls back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t. Sure, it feels like he’s carving his cock through you, but it’s more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulls back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He picks up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock is more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curl, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulls out about halfway, then buries inside you hard. He sits up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skate all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he gets to your face he groans. Your eyes are hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You’ve never felt anything even close to the pleasure he’s wreaking on you. You can’t think, and you seem to be losing strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunts and you don’t have enough available thought process to react. He moves his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulls his fat cock out nearly all the way, and starts to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasms. Chan just thunders through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes roll back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffs a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you can focus on is the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb will feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasp, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucks as deep as he can, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly is on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases drips out from where your bodies meet. As Chan pants, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiles.

"You're my wife now, only you."

daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. mun - Joseon Era Korean currency chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. sokbaji - pants-like undergarment, mostly worn by women under their chima

Master-List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @rhonnie23, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @minghaosimp, @stresskidz

[sp4ceboo]

Within the Storms of Giedi Prime: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: the long awaited part two of upon the sands of the arena is hereeee

tw: 18+, smut (more than last time hehehe), p in v, swearing, Feels™, death, assassination, use of the Voice (not on feyd), less violence but still violence, i lack faith in my sequel writing abilities, blowjobs, SUB FEYDDDD, also DOM FEYDDD, sex Outside, lightning and thunder (it says storms in the title what do you expect)

wc: 4.2k

part 1

Giedi Prime is a miserable planet.

It’s evident in the choking, black smog from the factories in the dense air fused with the anguished cries of overworked slaves and the distant rumble of the still active volcanos. You’re near the Harkonnen’s palace grounds - you’re heading towards them, actually, and the promise of a… pleasant night; to your left, you can just about glimpse the looming silhouette of the great arena, squatting like a hulking beast on the horizon, waiting to swallow any poor soul that gets too close to its gaping maw.

Tonight, roiling storm clouds reign the sky, sending sheets of furious rain pounding down upon anyone who dares to be out at this hour - including you. Harsh bolts of lightning spear down, hurtling towards the ground like incensed, condensed moonlight and casting freakish shadows.

Moonlight: the colour of Feyd’s skin. If it weren’t for him, you’d already be off this sorry planet - alas, you must stay a little longer, your body already a little warm at the memory of his skilled fingers and scorching gaze. You haven’t been back since the encounter with the na-Baron in the arena months ago, and you can’t help but feel the sting of doubt in your chest, wondering if he’ll still want a second time, or if you’ll sneak into his room only to find yourself replaced by a concubine.

Not that you occupy significance to him anyway, you remind yourself. Feyd-Rautha could not replace you, because there would be nothing to replace, just ashes of a once bright fire.

Irked by the weakness of your own mind, you pull the hood of your cloak lower over your face, tightening it across your shoulders. The hem is sullied by browning blood: you disposed of your quarry just this morning, and delivered the decapitated head during the early afternoon.

Conveniently, the Bene Gesserit have left you alone for now, most likely tangled in the politics regarding the Kwisatz Haderach while trying to predict the next movement of Jessica Atreides - word is that she has burrowed her way deeper into the desert, surrounding herself and her son with the more fanatic of the Fremen as she bides her time, ready for her next strike.

It means that you’ve been granted enough time to establish yourself as a bounty hunter. For a highly trained Bene Gesserit, the work is easy, and earns you coin a plenty while keeping you on the move and as in shape as assassinating sloppy idiots attempting to run from debt and petty disagreements can.

Slipping through the palace’s perimeter proves easy enough. You use the Voice on a few guards, preferring it to cutting their throats: instructing them to keep quiet and forget you passed by causes much less of a commotion. The scaling of the ramparts that make up the circumference of the inner palace is the most challenging, due to the stone being slick with moss and rain - your fingers dig into the cracks between the weathered blocks of stone, the wind snapping and tugging at your cloak, fiercer now that you’re higher up.

There’s a narrow battlement ringing one side of Feyd’s room. You land on it silently, padding over to the window sill; curtains made of heavy black fabric layered on a dark, wispy privacy layer shroud most of your view of him. His pale skin is almost luminescent under the jagged flashes of lightning bathing his quarters, the blanket having slipped half off him during the night. He lies with his bare back facing you, although it’s hardly a vulnerability - you doubt anyone would be able to creep up on him easily enough to bury a knife into his exposed back without him tearing their throat out first.

Apart from you - hopefully.

Carefully, you ease the window open. A frigid gust of air rushes in as you climb through, and you witness the exact moment that Feyd awakens and becomes aware of your presence; imperceptibly, the muscles in his back ripple before he settles again - you posticipate the feel of them under your palms, hard, lean, perfect for sinking your nails into.

A thrill rushes through you at the sight of him, a sort of wondrous feeling, keen as a knife and just as cutting. You want him all over you, you want him to consume you until all you can remember is him and his smouldering eyes and sensuous touch.

Shrugging off your cloak, you let it pool to the floor around your feet before toeing off your shoes too; breath caught in your throat, you steal over to his bedside, your hand ghosting over the solid curve of his shoulder blade before you grip his shoulder, turning him so his back is flat against the mattress and straddling him in one fluid motion.

The cold kiss of metal meets your neck.

You almost moan at the look on his face. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, his eyes wild, frenzied almost, glittering with the same danger as before. Running your hands up his hard, sculpted chest, you smirk down at him, watching as ever so slowly, his gelid gaze defrosts with recognition, the ice giving way to those all encompassing flames, flames that you surrender to unequivocally.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you," you murmur, fingers circling his wrist.

Feyd blinks, watching you as if he’s going to eat you as always. Slowly, the hand not wielding the knife roams waywardly down your spine, grabs a harsh fistful of your ass and lingers before gliding upwards and settling on your waist. He huffs, an abrupt, amused sound, but you don’t miss the way he greedily drinks up your figure with his eyes.

"I thought I scared you away, little witch. Presumably, it was not too much for you?"

"For me?" You muse. "We’ll see."

Knocking the blade from his hand, you ignore the screeching noise it makes as it skitters across the stone floor, instead enjoying the subtle inhale, loaded with expectancy, that Feyd takes as you lean in close to him. You hover above him for a prolonged moment, arms boxing him in, before he lurches upwards, connecting your lips with his.

A growl sounds at the back of his throat when he tastes you, licking into your mouth as his fingers press at the small of your back, bringing your lower body to meet his. Rolling his hips against yours, he tangles his fingers in your hair; you feel giddy with the feel of him against you, solid and warm and wanting, so real beneath you, so fucking insatiable.

You can’t get enough of him.

Slowly, you pull away, ablaze with the ravening craving in his eyes. The muscles in his well shaped chest flex as he tips his face up, following your lips, and you smile disarmingly at him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his trousers and pulling them down.

Taking his chin in your palm, you tilt his head so you can look him in the eyes before swiping your thumb over his lower lip, savouring the way he’s putty in your hands: a man destined to be the Baron of one of the most influential, powerful Houses in the Imperium, a lethal, strikingly skilled warrior, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, humbled by your touch.

"Let me taste you," you breathe - it’s almost a command.

"Please," he chokes out, imploring you with his eyes.

Laughing, you press a hand to his sternum and push. He sinks back into the mattress, compliant, and you trail your lips down his neck and sternum, leaving hickeys in your wake. You're seized by the need to make him shake and beg and cry; you want to devour him.

Dragging your nails cruelly down his thighs, branding him with livid red scratches, you tilt your head to the side, a smile playing upon your lips as you listen to the groan that leaves him, the pricks of pain setting him alight with longing. There’s a devout look in his eyes - a fervent, zealous sort of lust that stirs within you with the impulse to make him forget his own name.

Curling your fingers around his hard length and giving him a few pumps, you watch him under your lashes, something akin to a power rush spinning your head around and around. Feyd is wonderfully sensitive, and a sneer pulls at your lips when his fingers scramble for purchase, fisting in his silky sheets as you press a chaste, loitering kiss to his cock head - a pearl of jet precum sits at the apex of it, dark against its rosy, delicate flush.

Dipping your hand into your pants, you collect your slick on your fingers and use it to jerk him - when you glance up, his pupils are blown wide; lips parted, he stares at you, transfixed.

Eyes locked on his, you take him in your mouth: his thighs tighten, every muscle taut as you run your tongue along the veins wrapped around the underside of his cock. His head tips back, displaying the strong lines of his neck as you hollow your cheeks, rubbing your thighs together to ease the increasing ache between them. Jaw slack, you gag when he hits the back of your throat, and he growls at the sight of your hungry eyes growing watery.

You toy with him, teasing him with your tongue and grazing your teeth lightly over his length until he’s gasping your name; the way the syllables leave his tongue is almost pleading, his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, his thighs shuddering, wracked with tremors.

It’s evident that he’s close, the voracity in his eyes so hot that it melts your bones, sending heat pooling in your core - you’re going to let him wreck your cunt after this; ruin you for any other man. Trembling, his pale fingers hover near your head, splaying over the expanse of your shoulder, his eyes fucking begging for permission, so you pull off him, laughing as his hips jolt forward at the loss, his cock twitching when your fingertips graze his balls.

"Go on, Feyd," you coax. "Do as you wish."

A tender, honeyed noise rips from low in his chest, almost a whimper, a sound you know no one has extracted from him before. It’s the only warning before he fists his hand in your hair, hips bucking as he fucks into your mouth, his eyes rolling back as you gag around him, the debased moan that escapes you sending vibrations down his cock.

You almost black out when he comes down your throat. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of air reaching your lungs or the sweet pain of Feyd’s hand yanking at your hair, but you’re sure that you’ve never taken so much pleasure in someone else’s release. Slowly, you sit up, moving to lie beside Feyd, and he smiles dumbly at you, maybe a little fucked out as he leans in to kiss you, sighing as he tastes his own come on your tongue.

"I could spend hours exploring you, my little witch," he says, pressing his lips to your jaw.

Feyd flips you over with only an echo of ferocity from your previous fight, disrobing you and gripping your thighs, spreading them. Your hands find his shoulders, his back, your fingers resting in the dips of muscle there, trailing down the length of his spine as his own find your slick, yearning cunt.

Outside, the storm blows harder, rain pounding down upon the planet’s surface in sheets, lightning lancing through the thick billows of clouds; it is during one of these strikes that you glimpse that Feyd’s eyes are not as dark as they seem, but the colour of glaciers and blue fire. Within them, just beneath the keenness of his electric gaze, lurks something else - something that makes you hesitate. He senses it immediately, fingers pausing their movement, so you fit your lips to his.

You kiss him to avoid the emotions roiling in his stormy eyes.

He responds immediately, and you easily dismiss the thoughts clouding your mind; he barely knows you, there’s no room for the feelings you just saw in his gaze. You seek his body, not his soul, and it is the same both ways.

"Fuck me," you mumble against his lips.

All coherent sentences leave your mind when he flips you over again, this time with your stomach pressed to his bedsheets as he kneels on the mattress behind you.

"Ass up, my little witch," he commands.

Something within you goes molten at the sound of his voice. You can feel his gaze straying all over your skin, greedy, so you tuck your knees beneath you and arch your back, biting down on your lower lip as his palm presses against your lower vertebrae. He chuckles; it warms your bones.

"You’re so filthy, little witch, displaying yourself for me."

Bolts of ecstasy shoot through you as Feyd slides his cock head through your folds, his broad hands gripping your hips so tightly that you’ll be left with bruises. Your breath is punched from your lungs when he sinks himself inside you, balls deep, white hot pleasure rocketing down your spine - it tears a wretched cry from you, more so when he starts a brutal, near sadistic pace, the angle destroying you with vicious bliss.

The drag of his searing, velvet cock on your walls makes your toes curl. You think your body might shatter into a million pieces, the way he plucks the euphoria from it so agonisingly, so beautifully. One of his hands finds its way between your thighs, his thumb rolling endlessly over your clit; you find yourself teetering on the edge, suspended there a moment before you fall.

The way your cunt convulses around his cock as you come doesn’t stop Feyd. Unforgiving, he ploughs into you, his fingers still working on your clit, not breaking his rhythm even as you writhe beneath him, trying to jerk your hips away from his to no avail. It’s too much, the pleasure melting delectably into pain and still he can’t stop, won’t stop, his low snarl a warning in your ear as he pins you to the mattress with a hand between your shoulder blades, leaving you helpless to do nothing but take him.

Tears well up in your eyes, soaking into the sheets beneath you as he rails into you, his fingers speeding up on your clit until you’re begging him, tremors shooting through you from the aftershocks of your orgasm. His grip on your hips is unrelenting, and you sob as his pace increases, the savage friction sending you over again.

For the second time, you come hard around him, pussy clenching and fluttering, ragged cries wracking your body. This time, you bring Feyd with you, the sound he makes sharp and almost pained. He pulls out, and you mewl at the sharp tug of friction, panting as he comes on your back and ass, claiming you with his dark seed.

Breathless, he sits back on his heels as you straighten your legs until you lie full stretch, revelling in the post orgasmic rapture. Dimly, you hear his footsteps on the stone floor, but you pay them no mind, instead letting your eyelids droop as you rest your chin in the crook of your elbow.

Gentle hands encircle your ankles, carefully opening your legs. A second later, you feel a warm cloth at the apex of your thighs, and you whine, flinching away from the overstimulation. You hear Feyd’s chuckle, and the comforting sweep of his thumb against your skin as he cleans you up, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses on your back as he does; barely a moment after, the mattress dips, and strong arms pull you into a warm chest.

"How are you, my little witch?"

You hum in response, not wanting to use words. Something niggles at your brain, even through the haze of pleasure. It’s got to do with the na-Baron’s gentleness after he fucks you; it unsettles you, the sweetness of him, and now these words, as if you’re a lover, and not… whatever this is.

One of his wide palms runs up and down your ribs, and you shove those thoughts to the side, instead enjoying his touch, the way your body fits into his, his chest pressed against your front as he traces patterns on your skin with his deft fingers; his lips brushing the nape of your neck, leaving soft kisses there. You find yourself curling away from him a little - his hands on you make something deep in your chest stir to life, something that shouldn’t be there. It’s -

A blinding flash of lightning, followed by the deep, throaty growl of thunder illuminates the room. You’re facing the door: in the crack between its solid masonry and the floor, you glimpse a shadow.

Hastily, you turn, one hand meeting Feyd’s chest, fingers falling into the dip his collarbone makes as you search his eyes, urgent. He stares back at you, not quite guarded, but not quite open any more, and you’re filled with the urge to protect.

"Give me your knife," you hiss.

He sits up halfway. "What’s - "

You push him back down, glaring at his resistance. You can sense the change in the air, hear the subtle scrape of someone’s boot across the stone floor and the swish of clothing behind the door - or maybe it’s just the building storm outside, the escalating charge in the sky as another bolt of lightning is generated.

"Feyd. Give me your knife."

Eyes quizzical, he produces it from somewhere behind him, handing it to you hilt first. It’s just in time, because the door swings open, a masked figure silhouetted there. You whirl around, covering Feyd’s body with your own.

They’re holding a knife.

It doesn’t take you a moment longer to send your knife hurtling towards them. The blade seethes through the air before embedding itself with a thunk into the assassin’s shoulder, and as they drop to the floor, you’re up in another second, poised in case there’s another. A flash of movement catches your eye - the dropped knife, retrieved and held in blood soaked fingers.

"Stand down," you snap.

The Voice echoes through the room, and you pluck the knife out of the now frozen assassin’s grasp and slit his throat. Turning, you see the glimmer of amusement and awe in Feyd’s eyes; assassination attempts probably occur often, an estranged Bene Gesserit using the Voice in his room less so.

"So many people seem eager to sneak into my bed chamber tonight," he remarks. "Although I must admit I preferred the first one."

You laugh, collecting your clothes off the floor. "I’m glad."

As you pull on your trousers, followed closely by your shirt, Feyd gets up, and you’re struck by the slow manner in which he approaches you, so much like the way he prowled towards you in the arena, but this time his eyes concerningly soft, his deadly, killing machine of a body marked with hickeys and love bites.

"Why do you always rush to leave so fast, my little witch?"

"I - I have places to be," you stammer.

He tilts his head. "At this hour of the night?"

"...Yes."

Feyd takes one step closer, close enough to kiss. "What are you afraid of?"

You back towards the window. "I fear nothing."

"Don’t lie to me," he warns. "I can see it in your eyes."

Shaking your head, panic rising in your throat, you turn, the glass chilly on your fingers as you open the window. Feyd catches your other hand, but you whirl around and lash out, a blow to the face followed by a blow to the legs, and he staggers backwards, giving you enough time to slip out of the window and onto the battlements.

Outside, the storm has whipped up, the howling wind tearing at your hood and blowing it off, the rain immediately pouring down to soak your hair, sting your eyes, wet your face. You need to run, you need to get away from him, but the weak part of you - the part that you fear - slows your strides, tugging at you as if it’s tied to Feyd somehow.

He catches up to you easily enough.

Of course he does, he is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, and he is inexplicably bound to your soul in a way you cannot describe, in a way that terrifies you, shakes you to your very core. He catches your with a hand around your upper arm and presses you to his chest, your treacherous body reacting to him the way it always has as he stares down at you with those burning, icy eyes, droplets of rain running in rivulets down the moonlight planes of his chest.

Unease tears through you. You see it in his eyes, that he feels it too, and you dread the way it does not disquiet him. Your soul feels like it’s slowly rending in two - you need to get away from him, from the unguarded way he regards you, dedication clear in his unwavering gaze, but all the same, you need to remain with his arms trapping you to him, in the bewildering magnetism of his psyche.

"Tell me what you fear, my little witch."

You answer through clenched teeth. "I am not yours."

"You evade my question."

You stare at Feyd, confounded. This man before you is the same man that you duelled in the arena, yet he is different; there is a certainty in his eyes, an acceptance that you yourself flee from. You’re drawn to him, even as the instincts that have kept your hollow heart intact all these years squall for you to break loose - and yet you fear that too, the evasion, because you know that if you run now, a part of you will be lost, snapped under the tension.

"What do you - "

You cut Feyd off. "Do you know what I fear, Harkonnen? I fear the look in your eyes, because it’s not just desire any more. You do not seek me in order that I inflict pain and pleasure alike upon you, you seek something else. I fear the look in your eyes because it is the same feeling that rises traitorously in my chest when I look at you, and it terrifies me."

He’s silent.

You grab his shoulder. "Tell me you feel nothing, Feyd. Tell me you crave me for the thrill of adrenaline and the feel of my body - tell me and do not lie."

His eyes bore into yours. "I cannot."

"Exactly."

You wrest yourself from his grasp, turning and striding down the battlements. A strange feeling overtakes you, a prickle behind your eyes and a lump in your throat, an aching tug at your heart which you stalwartly ignore. It is over - you’re done. He made it harder than it ever had to be, but you’re going now.

He grabs your hand. "You cannot either, my little witch."

Struggling, you snarl at him, clawing at your chest, but he pins you to the wall, his eyes aflame, searing, calling to something in you that rises up to meet him. This time, it is too strong; you cannot push it down, a part of you not even wanting to. You can feel Feyd all over you, your senses overwhelmed by him, by the way he presses his forehead to yours, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You do not have to fear it," he whispers. "Just let go. You’re holding on too tight."

He dips his head, claiming your lips. You give in, yield to it, let it wash over you and carry you away on its blissful waves, your heart swelling in your chest at the way he touches you, tenderly, as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon; this is not Feyd, but this is him, irrefutably so.

You think this might be love.

It is a wild, white hot blade in your heart that twists, beauteous, enthralling. You believed that it would weaken you, shackle you, but you blaze with the glorious flare of it, the kiss of Feyd’s hips against yours stoking it further. Truly, it is magnificent.

In the only way you know how, you show him. It’s cataclysmic, the way you’re pulled to him like a comet caught in a planet’s gravity, streaking towards him, fated to collide, your hands roving over him, his over you, the taste of rain blooming on your tongue as you bite down on his shoulder, muffling a moan as he ekes sweet, tender pleasure from you. Your head tips back against the stone, eyes raised to the weeping sky, your lips parted as he fills you with his cock.

Feyd looks at you as if you are a goddess. He worships you, cradles you in his arms, anchoring you, grounding you. You do not know where he ends and you begin, nor do you want to know; you wish for your souls to meld, you wish for the two of you to be alone in the universe, unbothered by time or fate or anything.

"You are mine, little witch," he intones against your rain soaked skin. "I am yours."

[crazerk]

Dear author, we need a mother-daughter (or even one with Kaz 🥹) snippet now that we've seen how adorable MC's sons are with her!

Omg yes! This ask reminded me of a scene in magnificent century where mihrimah defended her mother from Hatice. I based this snip on that.

"Soraya, your posture," you murmured, barely moving your lips as you adjusted your daughter's silk sleeve. The great hall buzzed with conversation and the sweet notes of the court musicians, but all you could focus on was the way Soraya's shoulders kept slouching in defiance of years of training.

"Mother, I'm dying of boredom," Soraya whispered back, straightening briefly before slumping again. Her eyes kept straying to the door as if plotting an escape. "I should be with Cyrus. He's all alone in that stuffy room, in pain and bored to tears..."

"Your brother has three physicians attending him and more books than the imperial library. What he needs is rest, not you hovering over him like a mother hen." But your own thoughts drifted to your younger son, wondering if his fever had broken yet.

Across the room, Arman's laughter boomed over the refined murmur of conversation. He was trading war stories with a group of young officers, his cup of wine sloshing dangerously as he gestured. Soraya watched him with naked envy.

"At least someone's enjoying himself," she muttered.

"General Dastan seems to be enjoying the evening as well," you observed carefully, noting how the man's eyes kept finding your table. The Hero of the Northern Campaign, they called him. The Scourge of the Steppes. The man who'd saved the empire's borders through cunning and steel. He cut an impressive figure in his formal military attire. At thirty-two, he was in his prime – battle-tested but not war-worn, his dark good looks unmarred by the campaigns that had made his name.

Soraya's lip curled. "He can enjoy it somewhere else. I don't like the way he stares."

"He's a good match," you said, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. "Intelligent, successful, with strong support among the border provinces—"

"Mother, please." Soraya's fingers twisted in her lap. "I'd rather join the priesthood. I've already picked out my temple."

"You've been threatening that since you were twelve."

"Well, maybe this time I mean it."

You sighed. "I just want—"

"I know what you want." Soraya's voice softened. "But I can't be the perfect princess you're trying to make me into. I wish..." She glanced at Arman again. "I wish Cyrus were here. He'd tell me exactly how many battles Dastan actually lost, and how many of his victories were just good luck and better weather."

Despite yourself , you smiled. "Your brother does have an uncanny memory for other people's failures."

"It's not fair that he gets to skip this because of a fever. He probably isn't even that sick. I bet he's in his room reading those new scrolls from—"

"My, my, what dreadful posture."

The voice cut through your conversation like a blade. Consort Zina, one of prince Parvis’ concubines, settled onto a nearby cushion with practiced grace, resplendent in jewels that couldn't quite disguise the years etched around her eyes. Despite being aunt by marriage to the shah, she carried herself as though she were the empress herself. A younger woman hovered at her shoulder, wearing the latest court fashion and an expression of carefully crafted concern.

"Really, you grace," Zina continued, her tone dripping with false sympathy, "I would have thought you'd taught your daughter better. Though I suppose we can't all have the advantage of proper breeding."

Soraya’s eyes flashed with rage while your face remained perfectly composed, though your fingers tightened on your cup. "Your concern is noted, Consort Zina."

"And where is your younger son?" the younger woman chimed in, clearly eager to curry favor. "Surely an imperial prince understands the importance of state functions? Or perhaps he finds himself... above such duties?"

Soraya's head snapped up. "My brother is ill."

You squeezed your daughter’s hand in warning before turning to face the haughty noble. "Prince Cyrus is indisposed," you said coolly. "As I'm sure you've heard, Lady...?"

The woman flushed at the deliberate slight. "Lady Mercen."

"Ah yes. New to court, aren't you?"

"Now, now," Zina said, lifting her cup to her lips. "No need to be sharp, y/n. We're all concerned for the proper appearance of the imperial family. After all, these children reflect on all of us, even those of... humbler origins."

Soraya went very still. When she spoke, her voice could have frozen flame.

"Consort Zina. You're addressing an imperial consort and the mother of two princes." Her smile was razor-sharp. "How many sons have you given the imperial house again? I forget. Is it... none?"

"Soraya." Your voice cracked like a whip. "You will leave. Now."

"Mother—"

"Now."

You raised your hand slightly, and a servant materialized at Soraya's elbow. Your daughter rose, trembling with fury but trained too well to make a scene. As she was led away, you turned back to Zina, who sat with her mouth still open in shock.

"My daughter speaks out of turn," you said softly, "but she is young, and protective of her family. I trust you understand." You lifted her cup in a subtle mockery of a toast. "After all, we can't all have the advantage of proper breeding."

The musicians played on, and somewhere in the hall, Arman's laughter rang out again. You caught sight of General Dastan watching your daughter's retreat with an expression of mixed alarm and fascination.

Good, you thought. Let him see exactly what he'd be getting if he pursued this match. Your daughter might never be a proper court lady, but she had something far more valuable – the courage to bare her fangs when those she loved were threatened.

[miss0atae]

What love can do in Meet You at the Blossom and how it can shape your life (after Ep 3 & 4):

It took me a while to write this post because I changed its title so many times. I wasn't sure I was conveying my thoughts properly. I wanted to write about the healing power of love between Huai En and Xiao Bao, but I had so much to say before so this title didn't work anymore.

[gif by khunkinn] @khunkinn

It's not a coincidence you can find the same pattern in some of the characters from My Stand In and Meet You at the Blossom since they were written by the same writer. Huai En and Ming, both had shitty parenting when they were young and it mostly came from their father. More than Ming, Huai En was shaped by his relationship with his father. His mother and his father were childhood sweetheart who never got the chance to be together because she was taken away by Huai En's uncle and he made her as his concubine. We also learned Huai En was born out of wedlock. His uncle's legitimate wife was jealous and tried to kill Huai En and his mother. His father wanted to save them (mostly his mother I think) but failed and Huai En's mother died trying to save the father. Huai En and his father found a way to escape and he was raised to seek revenge for the death of his mother. However, it didn't make them close. Huai En's father seems to consider that his son is also partly responsible for the death of his mother. It's not yet explain why… but because of his bias Huai En's father unfairly treated his son. In episode 4, Huai En explains to Xiao Bao how his father beat and scold him during his childhood. Huai En had no other choice but to obey him “unconditionally” or he would suffer physical pain. We can also assume he suffered mentally too.

[gif by omgtheregoesthefuckidontgive] @omgtheregoesthefuckidontgive

Huai En has been having recurring nightmares about the mistreatment of his father. He seems to remember vividly trying to avoid falling from a cliff and found no help from his father. Quite the opposite, he was also mocked by his father. It is likely something he had experience while he was young and that became so traumatic that he can't forget it. We could say that Huai En is suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder since this event. A father is supposed to care about his children. That's what we naturally expect from any “good” parents. It's hard to understand why his father thought his son should be responsible for his mother's death. We haven't had enough insight on what his going on in Huai En's father head. However, we know he is very controlling and don't let his son do what he wants in life. Huai En only purpose is to help him get the revenge he wants. Anything outside this is considered useless and unimportant. I don't think Huai En even got the chance to really know what he wants or dreams for outside this purpose. He doesn't get to voice his opinion or to have something just for him. He must live for his father's desire. It was shown during episode 4, when Huai En had a vision of his father telling me:

“Remember, you were born to redeem yourself for your mother’s sake. Don’t harbor unworthy thoughts for anyone of anything. Understand? Don’t even think of trying to escape. No matter where on Earth, you can’t escape from my grasp”.

I’m still trying to wrap my head over this fact. When Huai En told the story of how he was born, his mother was still alive. So I don’t get why his father would be so hard on him when he is supposed to be the love fruit of the love he had for his mother. I wonder if his father is the kind of man who would value his spouse over his child. We know his father has an obsessive love for his mother. It wasn’t just the “I want to avenge her” it feels more like “she was supposed to be mine and I lost her so I will enact my revenge”. Huai En’s father appears to have an overwhelming obsessive desire to possess and protect his lover and he has an inability to accept failure of keeping her alive. It doesn’t matter if to get his revenge he has to hurt his own son. I believe this type of love is the only one Huai En had ever experience so he doesn’t understand it’s not a normal or healthy way of loving someone. He must have avoided to be with anyone because the only love he knows is the one his father has for his mother. Love is a painful affair. It can lead to obsession and physical pain. That’s why he is so startled by Xiao Bao regular love confessions.

[gif by guzhufuren]

Xiao Bao had an entirely different childhood. His parents seem to have a healthy relationship and to love each other. Xiao Bao is their only son so they spoiled him and made sure he had a good life where he wants for nothing. You can see how they care for him and wants him to be happy. Since he was loved and taking care of, Xiao Bao grew up to be a nice person who is not shy to show his love. He never had to experience the “dark side” of love. For him, this is only a positive thing. He is also a very charming man; very genuine so when he fell in love with Huai En, he didn't dither and decided to pursue him. It didn't matter to him if Huai En wasn't the woman he thought he was. As long as there is love, it's enough for him. Compared to what Huai En is used to know about love, Xiao Bao's vision seems quite refreshing. Especially as they are in a time period where queer love was frown upon, Xiao Bao's view of love, gender and norms is fairly modern. He claims he will find a way of making their relationship being accepted by his parents. Why is he not afraid of claiming his love for Huai En, despite him being a man? It's because Xiao Bao is sure of his parents' love for him. This trust exists because he was raised this way.

[gif by guzhufuren] @guzhufuren

Xiao Bao may appear to be a fool, but he is more than what he seems. He isn't a great tactician or a skilled warrior, but he is knowledgeable when it comes to emotions. It was shown when he had a conversation about love and death with Xiao Bao. He admits that humans lives for emotions and desires and that you can be sad when you lose a loved one. However you can't be miserable all your life because of this. This vision of life is in opposition with everything Huai En has been taught from childhood. I would even say he was stunned. Xiao Bao understood that Huai En because of his past can't really understand what love is supposed to be and he is ready to teach him. I think he does have strong feelings for Huai En. He may pout or act silly sometimes, but when Huai En conceded if they were someone he truly wants to love, it would be Xiao Bao, it truly delighted him. He is not the kind of person to sulk for too long. He is so genuine and overjoyed. I'm not going to say it'll be easy for them. Even if Huai En despises his father's love for his mom and really wants to experience a healthy relationship, the way this love shaped his vision of life will have an impact on his relationship with Xiao Bao. You can quite see it when he is adamant about Xiao Bao having “no thought about others” or to never lie to him. This idea that Xiao Bao wants to be with him “forever” and not just be with him, kinda shows that his past will have an impact. However, I believe Xiao Bao's good nature may soften him.

[gif by ruanbaijie] @ruanbaijie

As he said himself to Huai En, his lover is “tough on outside, but soft inside”.

PS: I edited this post with better credits for the gif creators. I tagged all of you, I hope it's alright. If you prefer that I stopped using your gifs, don't hesitate to tell me. I'll do better with the credits on gif from now on.

[asumi2020202]

Hi! Can I request a Tantai Jin x Female!Reader oneshot. Reader is his betrothed, she and Tantai Jin celebrate the Qixi festival together and finally confess their feelings for one another when the fireworks start.

Also I am SOOOO GLAD that someone is finally writing about TTEOM and Tantai Jin! 😃😃 There are hardly any fivs about him 😭😭

Thank you

Pairing: Tantai Jin x Reader

Summary: Tantai Jin is someone who was treated with harshness and cruelty. Yet somehow he finds his comfort in his betrothed.

A/n: This is before he actually accepted himself to be the devil god. This is written in the timeline where he hadn't discovered the evil bone yet. And thank you so much for the request, I hope.you enjoy. Thank you for reading!

_____________________ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ____________

Ye Y/n, the youngest daughter of the Ye family. Growing up, she was always treated like her sister Ye Xiwu. But instead of being a spoiled brat like Xiwu, she liked to help people.

It had been some weeks since their father discussed that Y/n was to be married to son of Concubine Rou and the King of Jing, Tantai Jin.

All knew that he was hated by the king who still blamed him for the death of Concubine Rou.

_________________________________________

It had been two weeks since Tantai had arrived at the Ye household. Y/n's family wanted her and Tantai Jin to be married as soon as possible to be in good terms with the King.

_________________________________________

Y/n was walking by when she saw Tantai Jin get harrassed by the servants. She walked in the room and asked the servants to apologise to him and leave.

Y/n held tantai's hand and led him to her room. She asked him to sit down as she set the table in front with food.

Tantai Jin was confused at her behaviour but he accepted the affection.

_________________________________________

Throughout the weeks of their betrothal Y/n and Tantai got closer. Y/n took care of him more than he thought he deserved. She earned his trust by the weeks.

Two days.. it was only two days for their marriage. Y/n forced him to come with her to the Qixi Festival.

Not wanting to sadden her, Tantai Jin agreed. Y/n looked through the shops while Tantai followed behind, smiling to himself.

_________________________________________

While strolling through the festival, you bought two meat stuffed buns for the both of you to enjoy.

You went to Tantai and gave him his bun along with a bright smile. As you both were about to move forward, the fireworks started.

You looked up at sky, eyes filled with amazement. Tantai Jin only looked up for a second. His gaze returned to your face. Oh.. how beautiful and ethereal you looked.

Tantai walked closer to you as your gaze shifted from the sky to him. He gave you the bun back.

For a second you thought he didn't like it and were about to apologise when he took your face in his hand and kissed you.

Your eyes went wide. Cheeks flushed. Ears bright red. He pulled away and looked at you.

"Thank you...Y/n.. for being with me. I can never show enough gratitude but thank you for letting me love you.."

You, without a second thought, took his face in your hands. The buns on the ground.

"You are all that I want.. and I would give you the moon but my hands are too small to grasp it all.. so I can only give you my heart and hope that you accept it.." said Tantai as you were left in awe, and let out a gentle smile and nodded.

His hand went inside his upper coat, pulling out a hairpin. It was silver, with pearls embedded and hanging.

He gently placed the pin on your hair bun. You smiled at him as the two of you turned your gaze back at the sky to continue watching. You smiled to yourself when you heard at little

..Thank you......

[sukunas-wife]

I’ve been going back reading the manga, and i NEED TO KNOW WHY YOROZU WAS SO UPSET WHEN SUKUNA HINTED HE KNEW WHAT LOVE IS

And she GOT LIVID “THATS NOT TRUE LOVE”

Like hold on a minute- I might need to knock off Interview with a Vampire and find Yorozu

“Interview with a Woman who wanted my husband: Yorozu”

Only one question: “who the hell or what the hell did he love and can you elaborate in detail??? We’re all gonna jump him, because excuse me???

Every article says he never had a wife or family, he SAYS He was an unwanted child, eXCUSE ME??

*turns to sukuna*

Hold on if your an unwanted child, power hungry who and where did you experience love??

The only LOVE you better have is how you loved the food Uraume cooked for you and not Uraume

Tell me you had a concubine and a child you loved

imma flip this fr and theorize so hard it was YOUR SON Yuji AND MAYBE JUST MAYBE after being unloved as a child you said “This is my child, I’ll kill anyone who hurts him”

and he’s the reason you really fell in battle when you were betrayed. You tried to protect him! But what happens when you have a weakness? IT GET EXPLOITED

so when you came across him reincarnated, it pissed you off he was so nice and soft boyish you snapped and hated him even if he was your son.

That’s why you wanna break him, you want HIM TO BE YOU, to feel that hate, that rage, to let himself be consumed by the darkness you let yourself be consumed in when you were unwanted as a child-

STOP HURTING BABY BOY YUJI RYOMEN

I bet before you were labeled ryomen sukuna your name that you stripped away had “ITADORI” in it

Fight me-

Someone @ Gege tell i NEED to write this out

Read the tags btw i kept elaborating 😭

Permanent-

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix x @bakugou-katsukis-wife i need opinions here 😭

[swee7dream]

14:38 p.m.

“You saved me.”

Jeno holds the spoon in his teacup and lifts it out, the submerged part no longer silver but white.

“Once again. How did you know?” His dark eyes almost knock the breath out of you like a punch to the gut, reflecting light and authority like any prince’s should.

“The walls talk, Your Highness.”

His eyes crinkle until you can no longer see the pupils, his lips curled up into a smile.

“Right. You won’t ever tell, will you?” Jeno’s legs cross over each other as he turns in his seat to see you out of the corner of his eye. The fabric of his trousers wrinkle and the black shoes that don his feet shine in the way only daily shined shoes would. “I won’t tell anyone you’re a sage. You can trust me.”

“You should just be content with the fact you have me on your side.” You crinkle your nose. “It would not be pretty for you to have me as an enemy.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

You just threatened the second prince of Somnium after an assasination attempt. Still, no guard steps out of line and pins you to the ground to cut your tongue off or send you to the dungeons. Jeno just smiles at you with his cheek on his fist.

“Thank you, my dear sage.”

You’re not a sage. You’re no magician or fortune teller or saintess from the gods. You just happened to read the manhwa this world takes place in and it would really suck if everything went acccording to the storyline and everyone in the palace died by arson from the crown prince.

“Your jaw will grow loose and fall out if you keep talking so much, Your Highness.”

Jeno knows you’re a little rough around the edges, but you mean well at the end of the day. You’re his most trusted advisor after all. He would give you a title if he could, promote you to give you a better salary would be a dream. But he can’t. There’s not much power for an exiled prince, son of a concubine, in the palace.

“Won’t you be there to catch it for me when it does?”

“I only try to stop injustices, not gifts from above.”

“Is that what my silence is to you?”

“If you tried it more often you would find yourself with less enemies.” You finally shift your eyes away from the flower arrangement by the door you were hyper-focused on to raise your eyebrows at Jeno, clearly unamused.

“Maybe that’s why my mother vouched for me to be sent here.”

You’re not exactly smiling and when those words leave Jeno’s lips your frown only deepens.

“The palace is a bloodbath. You should be able to have a peaceful childhood before going to behead your brothers and sisters for the seat in the throne room.”

“I’m twenty-three.”

“A peaceful childhood.” You repeat.

“Aren’t you-”

“A sage. Give me my due respect.”

“And what about me? I am a prince.”

“Eh…” You make a face and turn your face away, suddenly interested in how the dead trees sway in the wind.

"I could be a great prince!" He insists.

"Yes, yes..."

You don't doubt it, but politics is the one thing you're trying to keep your beloved tragic hero away from. You're rewriting everything anew, collapsing towers of betrayal and deception and creating instead houses of monotony and peace. You will not let Jeno die, not again.

© SWEE7DREAM . ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[musical-chick-13]

How would a female Jishi be? Is it a cursed concept?

This is an interesting question, because I think, in order to have a female Jinshi with the same general characterization choices, the entire premise of The Apothecary Diaries would have to change.

Jinshi's major point of characterization is that he's in a position of power and political significance that he has to take part in, but that he doesn't actually want at all. The line of rule/inheritance is through the sons, and women are afforded very few actual career opportunities outside of being a courtesan. Maomao is an exception, not the norm--very few girls and women are allowed to be on retainer as doctors or detectives. They can be servants/court ladies, they can be ladies-in-waiting, they can be courtesans or, if they gain enough standing and attract the attention of the right people, concubines, but they aren't often allowed to be anything else. Not in the miliary, not in serious medicine, and certainly not in politics.

If Jinshi is suddenly female, then...well the only way for this character to be in a position of political power in this universe is to have gotten astronomically lucky in the process of actively working for it. The world of The Apothecary Diaries isn't going to plop a random woman into a political position for grins, and the only justification anyone would find to install a female official is...if someone had an exceptional amount of skill that was recognized by the right people, like in Maomao's case (and Maomao isn't even an official, nor does she want to be one). But how WOULD this version of Jinshi have gotten that skill, if Jinshi hadn't worked to develop it? Jinshi-as-a-girl would not have been afforded the level of education needed for that to happen, and if female-Jinshi had pursued that education on her own time...then that would suggest that she wanted to be in politics, something completely antithetical to the version of Jinshi that we know. (And even if we suspend disbelief past the point of reason and say that she magically ended up with this training she doesn't want, the only way that skill would ever come to light is if she were consistently using it in front of people, which...I don't think she would do if she wanted to avoid politics that much.)

If Jinshi doesn't have this disinterest, we have a completely different character. Which is completely fine, there's nothing wrong with that at all, plenty of character traits and archetypes can be interesting or entertaining. But I don't think a version of Jinshi that remotely resembles the canon version of this character is possible if Jinshi is now a young woman.

I think having a politically-savvy female character to contrast with Maomao would be very interesting (and given a few things I've heard, I'm hoping we might see some of that in season 2), in the sense that any power a woman has in this setting has to be carefully managed and, often, fought tirelessly and intensely for. Except for Maomao, who is...pretty much just living her life. Don't get me wrong, she does still have to be careful, and there is still a significant amount of danger she faces, but there's a surprising amount of leeway she's given, courtesy of her unique position and the fact that she has Jinshi (and. sort of? Lakan? maybe?) in her corner. And she gains a degree of relative peace in spite of her circumstances, without having to become a courtesan or concubine or politician. So for a young woman who is in a political or politically-adjacent situation to look at Maomao and go, "Well why do YOU get this degree of freedom but not ME, why do YOU get to be yourself, but I have to curate every aspect of my being?" would provide a complex and highly gripping dynamic. But I don't think a female version of Jinshi can provide that dynamic.

The only potential way female-Jinshi ends up anywhere close to the character we have in canon is if the entire gender landscape of this story is flipped--if women were the ones with social and political power, and men were the ones who had comparatively few choices afforded to them. (And this, of course, means that pretty much all of the characters have to be genderbent, which I do always find to be a really fascinating thought exercise.) But while a Reverse-Gender-Landscape version of this story isn't...a horrible idea, necessarily, I think there are very few writers out there with a deep and nuanced enough understanding of misogyny and gender politics to pull off a "What If Matriarchy Instead" story without having it fall completely flat.

But if the question becomes, "Would a female character with Jinshi's qualities still be compelling, or would she just be annoying," then. Well my answer is the same as it always is: any type of character with any combination of qualities can be compelling in the hands of a skilled enough writer.

[jellyfitzjelly]

ok anon, it's probably silly of me but i like you so i am contractually obligated to share my favourite shows for you to watch! The links are youtube playlists. :D

Legend of Zhen Huan (you can sometimes find it titled Legend of Concubine Zhen Huan or Empresses in the Palace): a 2011 Chinese period drama following the rise to power of a young woman in the imperial harem during the Qing dynasty. Don't let the number of episodes frighten you! You will be left wanting for more at the end of every episode! I guess you can say the drama is "old" by internet standards, but I think it aged gracefully. There clearly was budget invested on costumes and locations, so even now you can find people making gifsets on tumblr of the costumes! This is the drama that got me into Chinese dramas. It is SO good! The romance is incredible. I highly recommend it! If you can read Mandarin, I recommend reading the books it is based on, I've heard good things about it! The series recently received a new, excellent translation thanks to the awesome Magpie Brigade team. You can watch it all for free on Youtube. Stay away from the Netflix version titled Empresses in the Palace, which boils down a lot of the storyline into 6 humonguous episodes for western audiences.

Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace (also titled Legend of Ruyi) was originally slated to be a spin-off of Legend of Zhen Huan following Zhen Huan's emperor son and his love story with his childhood friend. It was eventually cut off and the series now stand on its own, though the drama is still based on a novel by the same author. The drama follows Ruyi Ula-Nara's journey from being the emperor's childhood sweetheart to the disgraced empress. Again, don't let the number of episodes put you off! I swear you WILL devour them all! The drama is very beautiful and relatively recent! It's free on youtube with English subtitles. It's heartwarming, romantic, tragic... I love rewatching it.

Nirvana in Fire is, simply put, The Count of Monte-Cristo but chinese version lmao. A young man comes back under a new identity to clear his dead family and army from a sinister plot that costed him everything, but also to help his childhood friend become the new Emperor. It deals with a lot of themes and does it quite gracefully, and has great, complex antagonists. It's also one of the first dramas I watched! Funnily enough, this is an adaptation of a BL (Boy's Love, aka yaoi, aka Men Loving Men) novel. You'll only get crumbs of it in the series tho because of Chinese censorship.

Magnificent Century is a Turkish period drama centering around the rise to power of Hürrem (known in the West as Roxelana), from slave to legal wife of the sultan. The story is set during what is considered the golden age of the Ottoman Empire: the reign of Suleyman the Magnificent (fun fact: he's actually known as the Legislator in Turkey thanks to his many reforms). This show is actually a soap opera, so it's quite dramatic but oh so gripping! I believe it also dates from 2011, so you may find it a bit cheap looking especially in the costuming department, but don't let that frighten you! After years of mourning the fact I couldn't find it anywhere, they finally put it on youtube with english subs! I know it looks super long, but trust me you will find yourself binge watching it at 4am...

Magnificent Century: Kösem is a spin-off following another famous sultana, set roughly almost a century after Hürrem's story. I actually never watched more of a few episodes because its storyline is basically the same as in its original series... Nonetheless, it is more recent and has much more budget, so you may want to start with this one especially since you don't need to have seen Magnificent Century to watch this one. Choice is yours!

The Rebel Princess (also titled Monarch Industry) is a costume drama set in a fictional, ancient dynasty. It follows a princess and her marriage of convenience to a freshly promoted general. The drama is very beautiful and the romance is so good! It's also packed with action and plot twists! I literally binge-watched it. The drama features a lot of veteran actors, so the acting is really good. Available on youtube with english subs. I didn't watch it on YT so idk about the quality of the subs. I can give you alternatives should they prove subpar!

[aajjks]

TC!dad!JK

so jackson was right, he was with asami and to hear jungkook say he was ‘doing something really important’ with her only raises your suspicion. what could he have been doing with her that’s so important? you feel a little offended considering not too long ago jungkook was cursing you out for having a laugh with someone meanwhile he’s ‘doing something really important’ in his concubine’s bedroom.

he’s a hypocrite but you won’t say that out loud

“aw man, i can’t seem to remember what i was going to ask you. probably wasn’t important” you shrug. “goodnight, jungkook”

you turn around and swiftly head back to miriam to go get jinseoul which leaves jungkook confused as to why you’ve suddenly forgot what you were going to ask him. he’s sure you’re lying and kept the truth hidden from him (like you always do). it’s moments like these when he finds it hard to read you. did you think he was doing something with asami? because he wasn’t. unlike jungkook, you don’t press for answers. you take what you saw and go on about your day. completely detouring your original plan to apologize and be with jungkook again. instead, you forget your apology, get jinseoul from miriam, and retire to bed.

he watches every move you make: from waking up in the morning, bathing both yourself and your son, when you feed your son, when you style your hair, which oil you use to make yourself smell more enchanting, jackson watches it all through the keyhole of your bedroom door.

it seems that you and jungkook didn’t make up last night which means you were probably pissed when you saw him coming from her room.

‘yes, king jeon’ jackson thinks to himself. ‘keep fucking up so she can land in the palm of my hand’

he hopes jungkook’s fucks you over today and he’s conjuring up a plan to ensure you both remain as separate as parallel lines but maybe you can help him with that. if everything goes according to plan, he’s sure the two of you will be divorced and you’ll be all his. jackson will love you the way you deserve to be loved since your so-called “husband” is shit at getting anything right about you.

“slow, jackson. take it slow” jackson says aloud before leaving your bedroom door to tend to his duties not knowing that jisung saw the whole thing.

dear mother,

i can’t do it anymore. i can’t seduce him, mother. last night he choked me and threatened to hurt me if i didn’t tell him the truth. please, can i come home? i don’t want to do this anymore.

-あさみ

dearest daughter,

that just means he’s a little rough in bed, honey. remember your reward and give me what i want.

-あやめ皇后

mother,

i can’t. he scares me. he said he’ll never love me. i want to come home. please allow me to return home. please! why can’t you get him yourself?

-あさみ

dear asami,

are you questioning me? if you do not do as i say it will not be him that kills you. instead it will be me. do not write me back until their relationship is in pieces and you’ve seduced him.

-あやめ皇后

“king jeon?” jisung knocks on the door before entering his office. “you won’t believe this but that man queen y/n talked to at the garden? i saw him stalk the queen through the keyhole of her door”

~🫧

Jungkook knows what to do now, of course, he’s infatuated with you, and that brings a smile to his face because he’s got just the plan.

He will kill two birds with one stone. “Good work Jisung.” He says, even though internally, he’s fuming that this guy has the guts to fall for you when everyone knows that you are Jungkooks.

It will be really fun to kill him. “keep an eye on the creep and make sure that he is not near my wife or I’ll have your head.” He instructs Jisung and soon he’s taking his leave.

Jungkook grits his teeth, how could he even think that This nameless guy could have you? He knows that empress Ayame has something to do with this and maybe a few tricks will do the trick.

Jungkook will have to do the trick now- it will hurt you- but he’s just trying to save your tumbling relationship.

Maybe he could use Asami as a bait and get her to seduce Jackson even though it maybe hard because he’s obsessed with you.

But everyone has a weak spot, and he’s already found Asami’s.

Her mother has one motive and that’s having Jungkook- Asami is willing to do absolutely anything for her mother- and even if Jackson won’t fall for Asami-she could fall for him because she obviously doesn’t love Jungkook.

She will not want to disappoint her mother. So to put his plan in action… “Call the Princess for me” he commands the servant standing right next to the door.

She Will just have to help Jungkook into eliminating Jackson if she wants to go back to Yamato with her mother’s approval.

After a few minutes, there is a knock on his door, and he allows them to come in.

“Welcome Princess..” he smirks when she cowers, “ Oh, don’t be scared. I’m sorry for my rough behavior with you earlier, but I was just too angry… not at you but rather at your mother.” He signals the servant to leave.

“tell no one to disturb me while I’m in a meeting with the princess.” And like the obedient servant he is, he leaves. “So Princess.. your mother wants you to seduce me.. doesn’t she?” He smiles. “oh yes, please sit down because you’re going to be here for a long time.”

The poor girl looks so scared. He almost feels bad for her, but she tried to manipulate you. Jungkooks smile falters. “ you will have to seduce someone else for me, and then you can write a letter to your mother that you have managed to seduce me and put a crack in my marriage with my wife… and guess what I’ll even play along.”

“what do you say? Either you agree to my terms and conditions or I execute you right here.”

[princepsumbra]

Leo: A Fódlan Biography

PERSONAL INFORMATION

GENDER. Male

AGE. 21

HEIGHT. 5′8″

BIRTHDATE. June 30

CREST/HOLY BLOOD. Technically yes; he does possess unspecified blood of a First Dragon. It is the author’s personal hc Leo has Ground Dragon blood. 

CLASS. Unaffiliated Assistant Professor of Dark/Reason Magic

AFFILIATION. Kingdom of Nohr

BIOGRAPHY. Born the second son--a proverbial spare--Leo survived two wars and watched his brother ascend their kingdom’s throne. With a strong desire to make a name for himself beyond that shadow, he eventually found his way to the Officer’s Academy. He is both an accomplished mage and equestrian and holds a decent talent for swordcraft. As befitting a prince, he prides himself on impeccable manners and holding his emotions close to his chest. This Academy will give him a chance to learn new ways of magic while also realizing his own potential. 

PERSONAL HISTORY

Year ??? ~ Born to King Garon and an unnamed concubine 

Year ??? ~ Survives the Concubine Wars 

Year ??? ~ Sides with Corrin in her war for peace; upon its end, works tirelessly for the betterment of Nohr

Imperial Year 1180 ~ Enrolls at the Officer's Academy at Garreg Mach

INTERESTS. Reading, Strategy, Spellcraft, 

LIKES. Horses, stars, tomatoes, horticulture, chess                                                  DISLIKES. Wasting time, bad manners, abuse of power, selfishness, his parents, excessive sunlight                                                                                                                  STATUS. Prince of Nohr 

CLOSE ALLIES: Corrin, Xander, Camilla, Elise, Niles, Odin, Pelleas 

DINING HALL PREFERENCES

LIKES. saghert and cream, pheasant roast with berry sauce, beat meat teppanyaki, pickled rabbit skewers, daphnel stew, gronder meat skewers, derdriu-style fried pheasant, vegetable pasta salad, vegetable stir-fry, grilled herring, fish and bean soup, two fish saute, bourgeoise pike, sauteed jerky, sauteed pheasant and egg, garreg mach meat pie, pickled seafood and vegetables

DISLIKES. sweet bun trio, peach sorbet, onion gratin soup, country-style red turnip plate, fruit and herring tart, fisherman’s bounty, fish sandwich, spicy fish and turnip stew, sweet and salty whitefish saute, super spicy fish dango, cheesy verona stew, gautier cheese gratin, cabbage and herring stew, small fish skewers, fried crayfish

DINING HALL NOTES

FAVORITE DISH.   𓆱

"My gods, this tastes amazing! Oops, did I say that out loud?"

LEAST FAVORITE DISH.   𓆱

"Was this marinated in poison?"

WITH CORRIN (WIFE)  𓆱

“Our time together is precious. I enjoy every moment with you.”

TEAM TIME GUIDE

FAVORITE TEA. Dagda Fruit Blend,  Almyran pine needles

CONVERSATION TOPICS. A new gambit. A strong battalion. Close calls.  Equipment upkeep. Evaluating allies. Exploring the Monastery. Mighty weapons. Monastery rules. Monastery security. Overcoming weaknesses. Potential training partners. Reliable allies. Someone you look up to. Tell me about yourself. The ideal professor. The last battle. The library’s collection. Your ambitions. Capable comrades. Garden mishaps. Classes you might enjoy. Plans for the future. Books you’ve reach recently. Things you find romantic. 

TEA TIME QUOTES

GREETING.   𓆱

(1) "Thank you for the invitation. I have a little spare time.” 

(2) “Hm? I was reading this fascinating book...” 

(3) “What is it?” 

FAVORITE TEA.  𓆱  

“A lucky guess, perhaps? Nothing refreshes the mind quite like a strong cup of tea.” 

FIVE STAR TEA.  𓆱

“Such extravagance should not be wasted. Thank you for sharing.” 

BEING OBSERVED.  𓆱

(1) "Is my collar inside out?”

(2) “Tell me, have you read any interesting books lately? I finished one last night...” 

(3) “You have quite the astute stare.” 

QUIPS. 𓆱

"I’m used to more overcast climates.”  “Hmm...”  “I hope my siblings are faring well.”  “Ah, it’s still quite hot.”  “Please, enjoy your cup.”  “(Sighs) “What hobbies do you enjoy?” “How embarrassing...”

ENDING.  𓆱

"Spending time with allies is always enjoyable. Thank you.” 

FINAL COMMENTS.  𓆱

(1) “Teaching has proved quite the challenge.”  ANSWER. Nod, Sip tea     (2) “What are your thoughts on attempting new strategies? One can’t learn without trying things out first...” ANSWER. Commend, Chat (3) "I wield the divine tome Brynhildr. Its power is formidable. If you have questions about it, please ask.” ANSWER. Nod, Sip tea (4) “Admittedly, there are some things I do not fully understand, such as the intricacies of morality.” ANSWER. Nod, Admonish (5) “I quite enjoy going out for a daily ride on my horse.”  ANSWER. Laugh, Praise (6) “My biggest desire is to see my country prosper.” ANSWER. Nod, Sip tea   (7) "My siblings oft drove me up a wall growing up, yet I can’t imagine life without them. Such is the way of families.”  Answer: Nod, Laugh (8) "Battles are like games of chess. Though the stakes are considerably higher...” ANSWER. Nod, Chat, Sigh     (9) “Over my lifetime, I’ve observed that many people tend to hide their true selves behind a mask. Do you find that to be true?”  ANSWER. Chat, Admonish

MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUE.

GIFT GUIDE

FAVORITE GIFTS. Arithmetic Textbook, Book of Crest Designs, History of Fodlan, Riding Boots DISLIKED GIFTS. Stylish Hair Clip, Training Weight, Armored Bear Stuffy 

GIFT QUOTES

DISLIKED GIFT.  𓆱

"Seriously? I can only guess you were trying to do something nice.” 

LIKED GIFT.   𓆱 

"For me? I appreciate the gesture.” 

FAVORITE GIFT. 𓆱

"How did you know this was my favorite? Thank you.” 

LOST ITEMS

NOTEBOOK OF SPELLS. A small book that’s heavily annotated. The cramped yet elegant handwriting crowds into the margins. It probably belongs to someone who enjoys studying. Location found: Dining Hall

METAL HEADBAND. A simple, curved hair adornment. It probably belongs to someone who is fastidious about their appearance.  Location found: Stables

CHESS PIECE. A well made, hand carved piece of dark wood that’s clearly part of a set. It probably belongs to someone fond of strategy.  Location found: Library

LOST ITEM QUOTES  OWNER.  𓆱

"I’ve been looking for this! ...Ahem. Thank you for returning it.” 

NOT OWNER.  𓆱

"This belongs to someone else. Cleaning up after others is quite the thankless task.”

BATTLE QUOTES

MOCK BATTLE RETREAT.  𓆱 

“To think I’ve been bested here...”   ( *Byleth specific  ) "Professor, it appears I have much to glean from your methods.” 

FIRST KILL.  𓆱

"No mercy for those who stand in the way of justice.” 

MONASTERY QUOTES

CHOIR PRACTICE.  𓆱  

(1) “My talents lie in other practices than singing.” 

(2) "....I hope no one can hear me.” 

COOKING. 𓆱 

(1) "While I’ve improved a bit, I’m still no great chef.” 

(2) "I’ve prepared this myself--rest assured, it shall be delicious!” 

(3) "A prince I may be, but I cannot always rely on others to provide meals when necessary.” 

TUTORING

INSTRUCT

BAD.  𓆱

"A disgraceful showing.” 

Critique: I suggest explaining this in a manner best suited for beginners. Console: I have faith I can learn this material. 

GREAT.  𓆱

"This was an inevitable result.” “Learning something new is one of life’s pleasures.”

PERFECT.  𓆱

"I knew I could reach greater heights.”  PRAISE. "Together, we can achieve great things.”

TASKS

STABLE DUTY. 𓆱

“Taking care of the horses is no small thing. A knight relies on the health and well-being of their steed.”

WEEDING. 𓆱  

"...Must we do this in the middle of the day?” 

SKY WATCH.  𓆱

“I prefer the ground, but I appreciate the view from so high a vantage point.”

CERTIFICATION EXAMS 

  FAILED.  𓆱

"I cannot gain perfection with such an abysmal performance.” 

PASSED.  𓆱

"This confirms what I already knew.” 

UPDATE GOALS

REASON. 𓆱  

“Professor, while I possess great skill in the art, there is always more to discover. I have dedicated my life to the study of magic; allow me to continue my research under your guidance.”

Riding  𓆱  

“Horsemanship is a skill I’ve been pursuing since childhood. I find it freeing when riding my horse across an open field, and the strategical advantage the added height gives me is invaluable. I would prefer to continue exercising my mastery in this area.” 

Authority 𓆱  

“My brother once told me I needed to be more confident. Despite our differences, I still wish to emulate him as a perfect example of princely conduct. I am not against seeking counsel when needed. This is a challenge I am determined to overcome.” 

LEVEL UP

0 TO 2 STATS UP  𓆱  

“(Sigh) I need to study harder.” 

3 TO 4 STATS UP  𓆱   

“Growth in any form is better than none.” 

5 STATS UP  𓆱  

“Polishing my talents, as expected.” 

6 STATS UP  𓆱  

“Yes...these are the limits of my true potential.” 

UPON REACHING LEVEL 99  𓆱    

“Am I finally worthy of my place in this world?” 

BUDDING TALENT

“Every day I discover new things about myself.”

NEW SKILL

“With this, I can employ a variety of new techniques!” 

RECLASSING   𓆱    

(1) “New experiences are a fact of life.” (2) “Untapped power at my fingertips...” (3) “Is my uniform on inside out?” 

BATTLE QUOTES

WHEN SELECTED

FULL/HIGH HP  𓆱   

“Prepare to drown in the dark!”

MEDIUM HP  𓆱    

“I will not fail.”

LOW HP  𓆱   

“Are you sure this is the best approach?”

ENEMY DEALS 1 OR NO DAMAGE OR MISSES 𓆱   

“Fools.”

CRITICAL ATTACK  𓆱  

“It’s too late for surrender!”  “Nothing but cinders.”  “I warned you I’d show no mercy.” “You can’t hide from me.” “With the divine power of Brynhildr!”

GAMBIT  𓆱  

“Risks are the reward of the confident.” 

GAMBIT BOOST  𓆱  

“There is no escaping.”

DEFEATED ENEMY 𓆱   

“Pathetic.” “I cannot fail.”  “Is that all you have to offer?”

ALLY DEFEATS ENEMY  𓆱  

“You have my thanks.” “Excellent! We showed those fools.” “Not a move wasted.”

ALLY HEALS/RALLIES  𓆱   

“I’m impressed.” “Thank you.” “We will stay sharp!” “I can continue to fight.” “Shall we show them our might?” “Unparalleled excellence.”  “I’ll do what no one else can.”

DEFEAT QUOTE

CASUAL  𓆱    

“I’ll fall back.”

CLASSIC  𓆱  

"Fiends! That I...should pay with my life...for never being strong enough...”

THE ADVICE BOX

"I’ve a brilliant mind for all things academic, yet when it comes to fashion and other abstract ideals, I’m a bit absentminded. What can I do to overcome this flaw?”

>Who cares about fashion! >Try writing a daily checklist (Correct answer) >Do nothing. It’s funny.

[duhdumb89]

A Forbidden Happiness | Chapter 28

An arrow, just missing the tip of his shoes, lanced Prince Han from his thoughts. He looked up from the hard-packed dirt of the archery grounds to glare at Yiqiang. Yiqiang glared back.

"You're not watching,"

Prince Han rolled his eyes, "I'm tired. Do it again, I'll watch this time,"

Yiqiang threw his bow to the ground.

"Tired from what? Hanging around Third brother and the rest of them? Fine! Piss off! I don't need you. I'll go back, and Mother will find a new tutor who's better than you!"

Sang'er picked the bow back up, "Sixth Prince, my lord, has been assisting His Majesty with court affairs for long hours every day. Even so, he comes to see you every day to assess your progress,"

Yiqiang said nothing. He grabbed the bow and turned back to the targets.

"Your drawing arm is too low," Prince Han called, "Straighten up,"

Sang'er returned to Prince Han's side, casting worried glances at him, "My lord, are you alright?"

"I'm fine,"

"You–"

"I said I'm fine," Prince Han hissed, "Drop it,"

"Yes, my lord,"

Prince Han focused on Yiqiang. When that was finished, he focused on the memorials that The Emperor had sent to his rooms. He then focused on clearing his mind and chasing the sleep that eluded him.

"My lord," Sang'er said after hours of silence and no sleep, "You must contain yourself. There's nothing you can do,"

Prince Han rolled over and drew the covers. He didn't need Sang'er to remind him of this.

"...Meimei may tolerate a maid that crawls into The Emperor's bed, but I won't,"

De gui fei's words sliced at his chest like a burning knife like they did days before. Jiayi was trying to become His Majesty's concubine. When he heard De gui fei leave the room, Prince Han wanted to pry the window open and crawl back in. He wanted to shake Jiayi and tell her she was making a mistake. He wanted to spew all his pent-up resentment for His Majesty at her. That His Majesty was fickle and paid no mind to anyone's feelings, even his difujin's. If Jiayi displeased him at all, he would happily let her waste away in misery or be cruel enough that she would end it all herself.

But he didn't do that. He picked himself up and avoided Sang'er's eyes.

Truthfully, that would never happen to Jiayi. Once His Majesty had the chance to know her, there was no way he wouldn't favor her. The arts always entertained His Majesty. The fact that Jiayi could draw anything you could imagine in moments would always be fascinating. The Emperor would be refreshed by Jiayi's unadorned beauty and captivated by her in rouge and silks.

But the idea of Jiayi becoming The Emperor's concubine made his stomach clench. However, he had no right to it. His Majesty did like he did every unmarried woman in The Forbidden City. It was only natural, anyway. The Emperor was the Son of God. Who wouldn't want that over the almost-bastard child of the Late Emperor? No matter how much His Majesty favored Prince Han, he could never compare. What could he do for her family that His Majesty couldn't do ten times over? Not to mention, Jiayi had never promised him anything. He had not spoken a word of his feelings to her. Sly glances and blushing smiles were nothing when you added them all up. They were just friends.

Sleep eventually dragged Prince Han down into the darkness. He doesn't go to court that morning and sends Sang'er to tell The Emperor the cold is making his old wounds ache. He ate his lunch until he was full despite the food tasting like ash in his mouth. However, he couldn't hide and lick the wounds he truly didn't have. He was a 4th rank Prince, personally titled by His Majesty. He had been wounded more fiercely than this before and would again.

Fate was not in his favor. He would make peace with it.

"I'll go see His Majesty," Prince Han said after Sang'er fastened his cape.

"You haven't greeted Her Highness The Empress in some days. Shall we visit her instead?" Said Sang'er.

Prince Han sighed, "Do you want me to avoid His Majesty forever?"

"I would not dare. It's just–about Wei guniang–,"

"I'm not a child. This isn't heartbreak or a broken promise. I haven't been betrayed. There's no point in throwing a tantrum. Come,"

The walk to Yanxindian was quiet and solitary. The bitter winter winds had forced the forbidden city into hibernation. Prince Han was grateful. He wasn't in the mood to make small talk with a wayward minister or nosy noblewoman. However, he would have preferred that to the torture of seeing Jiayi walk down the stairs of Yanxindian. It was like seeing her in another life.

Not a maid, but a gêgê.

Instead of her plain cotton maid's uniform, Jiayi wore a warm yellow changfu that glowed like the sun. Her pink and blue waistcoat was trimmed with white fur matching the muff she tucked her hands into. Instead of the dew drop earrings she so happily wore, simple gold earrings dangled by her ears. Gold and silver dotted her hair. Her face was softly powdered and rouged. Prince Han froze as Jiayi raised her head and looked in his direction. But there's no recognition there, no bright smile that Prince Han had begun to think was only reserved for him. She looked right through him.

It happened.

Prince Han stared as she turned a corner and disappeared.

---

Jiang pin waved her freezing hands over the brazier. His Majesty had already announced that she would be released, and she was still treated like a criminal! Why hadn't the Imperial Department sent over more coal and returned her servants? What was taking so long? Were they going to keep her locked up like this until the new year? She paused and looked up. Where was Susu? The eunuch took her to get more charcoal almost an hour ago.

Useless dogs.

Jiang pin looked up at the sound of the lock jostling open.

"Jiejie?"

Oh, it was only An gui ren–er–An pin.

"So you've finally remembered me?" asked Jiang pin.

"Jiejie, it's not my fault," said An pin, shutting the door behind her, "His Majesty was so upset after you attacked Xiang gui ren–"

"I did nothing!" Jiang pin snapped, "That bitch scratched herself!"

"Of course, of course," An pin said, simpering as usual.

"That whore better count her days. When I get out of here, The Empress Dowager is going to help me put that bitch in her place,"

An pin's lip quivered, "I don't think it'll be so easy jiejie, His Majesty is promoting her for the New Year,"

"What? What for?"

Jiang pin's anger rose to levels that she'd never known before in her life. That whore was going to become an Imperial Concubine? That bitch was given Yiqiang and would be his official foster mother? How could that bitch rise that far above her in just a few months?

"His Majesty has lost his mind!" She said, "How can The Empress Dowager allow this to happen? How could Shen huang gui fei?"

An pin handed her a cup of tea, "The Empress forced Shen huang gui fei to leave Huabao in Mongolia, and The Empress Dowager is trying to find someone new to put at His Majesty's side. There's no time to deal with her,"

Jiang pin gulped down the tea before huffing, "I have to get out of here. I can't let her win,"

She would have to send Susu out with some of the silver she saved to bribe a few people. Maybe she could get the eunuchs at her door to set her free to speak to The Empress Dowager in person at night.

"Jiejie," An pin began, pulling Jiang pin from her thoughts, "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

Jiang pin motioned for An pin to refill her cup. The least that woman could do is make herself useful.

"Do you remember what Her Highness did to deal with Mu pin? I'd like to see if we can deal with Xiang gui ren before her promotion,"

Jiang pin was impressed. An pin didn't usually show this sort of initiative.  She probably had a hard time without Jiang pin to lead her all these months. 

"Do you have anyone in the Imperial Hospital?"

An pin shook her head.

"Well, you'll have to get her records and throw a little silver around to alter them. Mu pin had 'weak blood,' so no one was shocked by her prescription. Then, all you have to do is add a few extra herbs here and there. That's not very hard, is it?"

"That's it?"

Jiang pin rolled her eyes, "It's not that complicated. But I won't save you if you're stupid and pick the wrong person. If he turns tail when you tell him to add an abortifacient, it's your problem,"

"Did Mu pin need that?"

"Of course!" Jiang pin replied with a scoff, "As uppity as she was, had she been pregnant, Shen huang gui fei would've never been able to get rid of her. You should triple Xiang gui ren's dose. If she got pregnant, she'd have a litter like the bitch she is,"

Jiang pin drained her cup again and held it out. An pin, suddenly deaf, ignored her. Rolling her eyes, Jiang pin grabbed the pot, but An pin held steady.

"What's wrong with you?" She snapped, "Can you stop sitting there like an idiot and serve me?"

The faraway look on An pin's face disappeared and was replace with a dumb smile, "Ah! Of course, jiejie,"

A strong gust of wind shook the walls. Jiang pin shivered.

"You'll have to bring me some coal. That dog Fang gonggong will get what's coming to him when–"

"You watched me,"

It took a moment for Jiang pin to make sense of An pin's words. Watched her? Jiang pin massaged her temple. An pin had barely been there for an hour and had already annoyed her into a headache.

"What are you talking about?" Jiang pin's mouth was dry and tacky. She drained her teacup before tossing it on the nearby side table.

"You and Shen huang gui fei didn't tell me anything. You told me to make nice with Mu pin. To not behave like anything was different," An pin rose to her feet, "We had lunch with her so often. If I remember, you never ate much,"

Jiang pin rubbed her eyes. It was suddenly hard to keep them open.

"Why are you harping on this? I didn't like her food. Was that a crime?"

"But you piled food on my plate. That food was meant to kill Mu pin and any children that lingered. What about my child? Did you ever think about him?"

Jiang pin's head slumped forward. She twitched. Why couldn't she move? An pin's skirt drifted into her eye line before her head was jerked up.

"Did you like the tea?" An pin's soft voice asked, "I put something special in there just for you,"

Jiang pin strained to do something, anything at all!

"Urk...erk!"

An pin laughed and leaned forward, "Did you say something, jiejie?"

Jiang pin felt something dribble down the side of her lips. Was it drool? Was it blood? A sharp, stinging pain stabbed her stomach. It came in bursts and waves, each one more painful than the last. She couldn't even open her mouth to groan.

An pin stroked Jiang pin's sweaty face, "Does it hurt? Weiwei told me that His Majesty only reserves this poison for the worst criminals. I feel like it suits you so well,"

Even though white hot pain was lancing through her body, Jiang pin's eyes still widened when An pin's hands closed around her throat.

"Your Highness! Your Highness!"

An pin whirled around at the sound of Susu's voice.

Hope bubbled in Jiang pin's chest. Susu would find her and help her. When Jiang pin recovered, she would slit An pin's throat! As if she could read Jiang pin's thoughts, An pin turned around and smiled darkly at her. She unwrapped Jiang pin's longhua* and backed away into a darkened alcove near the door.

"Your Highness!" Susu cried, running into the room, "5th Princess– Your Highness, what's wrong?"

Susu!

Turn around!

Jiang pin watched in horror as An pin crept up behind and wrapped the white scarf around Susu's neck. Susu frantically scratched and fought, only for An pin to pull tighter, a toothy smile on her face. Susu's face blushed red, her eyes white and wide. The whites of her eyes began to dot with red splotches, the veins in her back bulging grotesquely. An pin yanked Susu's head back, forcing a wet, croaking cough out of her mouth. The terrifying flush of blood on Susu's face soon gave way to a ghostly pale, and like a puppet cut from its strings, she fell limp. An pin wrenched the scarf tighter still, holding it taut until she was satisfied. Jiang pin desperately wished she could shut her eyes from the sight of Susu's body collapsing on the floor.

The pain was nearly unbearable now. It was like her blood was replaced with the fire from hell itself. She felt something trickle down the side of her face. Was it blood? Was it tears?

"Weiwei!" An pin called.

The maid scurried through the door, uncorked a jar, and then splashed a foul-smelling liquid in Jiang pin's face atop Susu's body, and on every surface of her rooms. Through her dizziness, Jiang pin recognized the smell. It was oil.

An pin picked up a burning candle  on a nearby table.

Dear God.

An pin was going to burn her alive. Jiang pin prayed that the poison would take her before the fire did. Jiang pin knew she was a sinner, but even the worst criminals weren't burnt alive. Her body would be in ashes! An pin couldn't be so cruel!

"Don't look so scared, jiejie," An pin said, backing away to the door, "You won't be alone. I gave Huaguang something to guarantee she'll be by your side,"

When the black smoke began to her and the flames brought her palace down around her, did she understand An pin's parting words.

–––––– *The hanging white scarf worn by women. Longhua first serves the purpose of keeping the neck warm and also covering women's neck for modesty.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[fordecree7]

THE BIBLE BOOK OF GOD

Ecclesiastes 2

The Vanity of Self-Indulgence

2 I said in my heart, “Come now, I will test you with pleasure; enjoy yourself.” But behold, this also was vanity. 2 I said of laughter, “It is mad,” and of pleasure, “What use is it?” 3 I searched with my heart how to cheer my body with wine—my heart still guiding me with wisdom—and how to lay hold on folly, till I might see what was good for the children of man to do under heaven during the few days of their life. 4 I made great works. I built houses and planted vineyards for myself. 5 I made myself gardens and parks, and planted in them all kinds of fruit trees. 6 I made myself pools from which to water the forest of growing trees. 7 I bought male and female slaves, and had slaves who were born in my house. I had also great possessions of herds and flocks, more than any who had been before me in Jerusalem. 8 I also gathered for myself silver and gold and the treasure of kings and provinces. I got singers, both men and women, and many concubines, the delight of the sons of man.

9 So I became great and surpassed all who were before me in Jerusalem. Also my wisdom remained with me. 10 And whatever my eyes desired I did not keep from them. I kept my heart from no pleasure, for my heart found pleasure in all my toil, and this was my reward for all my toil. 11 Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had expended in doing it, and behold, all was vanity and a striving after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.

The Vanity of Living Wisely

12 So I turned to consider wisdom and madness and folly. For what can the man do who comes after the king? Only what has already been done. 13 Then I saw that there is more gain in wisdom than in folly, as there is more gain in light than in darkness. 14 The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I perceived that the same event happens to all of them. 15 Then I said in my heart, “What happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” And I said in my heart that this also is vanity. 16 For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool! 17 So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.

The Vanity of Toil

18 I hated all my toil in which I toil under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to the man who will come after me, 19 and who knows whether he will be wise or a fool? Yet he will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. 20 So I turned about and gave my heart up to despair over all the toil of my labors under the sun, 21 because sometimes a person who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave everything to be enjoyed by someone who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil. 22 What has a man from all the toil and striving of heart with which he toils beneath the sun? 23 For all his days are full of sorrow, and his work is a vexation. Even in the night his heart does not rest. This also is vanity.

24 There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, 25 for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment? 26 For to the one who pleases him God has given wisdom and knowledge and joy, but to the sinner he has given the business of gathering and collecting, only to give to one who pleases God. This also is vanity and a striving after wind.

Ecclesiastes 2 Diane Beauford

[sp4ceboo]

Upon the Sands of the Arena: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: basically reader fights feyd in the arena, my apologies if there are any inaccuracies, i'm dUmB

tw: 18+, smut YAAA, fighting, swearing, i use fire metaphors too much, blood, violence and death (it's in a gladiatorial arena ffs), creampie, one ass spank, fingering + oral (f receiveing) hella lot of sexual tension, Fighting as Foreplay, feyd sorta has a blood kink but he's just freaky like that, sort of fluffy at the end, hint of voyeurism if you squint really hard, lmk if there's anything else

wc: 4.1k

part 2

The Bene Gesserit are distracted.

If the Kwisatz Haderach was not so near, they would have disposed of you properly. Instead, they sucked you back into their dark web of deceit and occulted plans only to spit you out just as fast, leaving your fate to the blood soaked sands of Giedi Prime’s arenas. You believe that if it were not for the actions of Lady Jessica Atreides and her defiance of the order, they’d pay you more attention.

Not that you’re complaining.

You were trained to flourish in the dark, lurking in the shadows of the deepest of nights, awaiting a time to strike. However, you are not like your mentors, you do not believe in the hoping, the weaving of bloodlines for the production of a distant messiah, nor do you dirty your hands to obey an imperious Reverend Mother.

Truly, you admire Lady Jessica for doing the same as you did - defying the order and thereby splintering from it; all the same, you do not desire what she wants. For she wants power for her son and her unborn daughter, and you want nothing but to be left alone.

In a universe full of yearning for a greater purpose, you want the opposite. Often, you find yourself wishing you were something of nature: not mundane, by any means, but uncontrollable, like the desert winds that sift through the sands of Arrakis simply because. To be like them, without a master, without the endless search for purpose, is freedom.

Instead, you have been branded with the title Bene Gesserit - ex Bene Gesserit now - and you wield too much power for the order to ignore you, even alone. Hence why they incorporated your capture into their plans, engineering it so that you face the Baron’s brutal, bloodthirsty nephew in the arena.

They’re going to have to try harder than that to kill you.

You think they forget that you once were as good as the rest of them. They forget that you still possess the ability to alter the molecules in your blood to resist the drugs they pump into the arena prisoners, and they forget that you trained beside the best in combat.

The arena is where you thrive.

The roar of the crowd is deafening. It excites you, the swell of noise that is thousands of harsh Harkonnen tongues heckling for blood; the stamp of their feet as they cry their na-Baron’s name vibrates through the arena, through the grains of sand beneath your feet, deep and heady like burgundy wine.

Your fingers tighten around the blade given to you, barely sharpened and made of unsanded wood, but solid all the same. It’s all you’ll need against the na-Baron. He is but a cruel man set on fire with exterminable blue flames, and you are Bene Gesserit: defiant of the order or not, it is who and what you are, and it is pure power coursing through your veins - power that answers to you and you only.

The roar of the na-Baron soars over the crowd’s cheering, animalistic and full of fury that makes you wonder what incenses him so much. Something in his past, maybe, something that he only acknowledges in the inner machinations of his cunning mind.

The grate in front of you opens, and you allow yourself a smile as you step out into Giedi Prime’s tortorous ebony sun. High above, you spot the slit of a balcony where the Baron himself reclines, watching his nephew with a benevolent smile and a pipe in his hand, flanked by subservient concubines with bowed heads. All around, the crowd shouts, thunderous, urging their na-Baron to spill blood on the sand, to paint the arena red. It swirls around you like a washed out dream, black and white but simultaneously vivid, the stink of rotting bodies and sun bleached white sand pungent in your nostrils, the occasional pop from the fireworks overhead heavy in your ears.

Rolling your shoulders, you pace a few steps in before sitting down in the sand, cross legged, the backs of your hands against your knees with your blade flat against one of your palms. Pitiless, you watch as the na-Baron slices the throat of the first prisoner that staggers his way, throwing him an enigmatic smile when he glances towards you.

His eyes are cold; calculating. They’re dark, striking against his pale skin as they suck in the light, and hungry too, as if he strives for something he does not quite know, always reaching, always burning for more.

Intriguing.

He circles in on the next prisoner, who meets his end by the same savage knife work as the first, his guts spilled out onto the greedy sand. Insatiable, chest heaving with excitement more than fatigue, the na-Baron turns to you, his final prey - his black teeth are bared in a magnificent, maniacal grin, his footsteps silent as he approaches.

Facing him now, you understand why the Bene Gesserit believed that by crossing the Atreides’ meant-to-be daughter with the Harkonnen’s na-Baron, they would make the Kwisatz Haderach. There’s no doubt in this man’s genetics, in the solid lines of his strength sheathed bones and the sheer virility and ferocity that permeates the air around him - it’s almost elegant, the way he prowls towards you, his stride lilting and laced with power. They picked him well.

Too bad you’ll have to kill him.

If he proves to be obtuse, you’ll have no choice but to slay him in order to save yourself. If he is, however, as cunning as they say, you’ll give him a chance to live - it’d be a shame to end him, actually: something draws you to the rawness of his nature, to the frigidity of the ire in his eyes.

The na-Baron circles closer, his skin like moonlight. He watches you like a hawk, as if he’s the one who’s hunting, ready for his next meal; his eyes flash in the sun, studying you, watching for your tells even as you identify his. Smiling, you drop into a crouch, knife outstretched like a twisted mockery of a peace offering, waiting for him to take the bait and strike.

He cocks his head. "It’s rare that I face a woman in the arena."

"I’m sure it will still be of pleasure to you, Feyd-Rautha."

"I believe it will increase it tenfold, little witch."

You don’t have time to figure out how he knows you’re Bene Gesserit, because he slashes at you, once down towards your ribs and once back up at your throat. His knife flashes in the sun, reflecting the bloodlust in his eyes as it arcs towards you; light on your feet, you parry both of his blows, dipping in to land your own. He’s strong, which is of less concern to you than his speed. Feyd-Rautha fights as if he’s dancing: not in the aspect that there’s flourish in his bladework - quite the opposite, he keeps his strikes efficient and tight - but in the smooth, hypnotic way that the movements of his body blend seamlessly together.

The crowd screams as he forces you into defence. It’s temporary, though, because he gets reckless, both driven and blinded by his hunger for blood - enough so that you can dart your foot out, hooking it around his ankles and overbalancing him. Sprays of sand are kicked up as he tries to steady himself, and you force him down with the tip of your blade to his pale throat.

A single, sleek drop of scarlet slides down his skin. Unhurriedly, he brings a hand up to catch it before it leaks onto his black armour, lifting it so he can see the blood your knife has shed. His gaze flicks up to you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Huh," he remarks, pleasantly surprised.

And then he lashes out, bringing you down into the sand beside him. With the hilt of his knife, he knocks your own out of your hand, and it’s catapulted into the air, spinning end over end and catching the light before it somersaults into the ground a few feet away. The grit plumes up at your face as you scuffle with him, and you hiss, frustrated that the sand does not lend you any more traction.

Rolling you over so fast your head spins, Feyd-Rautha drives his knife down towards your exposed neck. It makes a bolt of panic shoot through you, followed by the deep seated, survival impelled instinct to use the Voice on him, but like hell you’re doing that; honour prevents you, as well as the desire to finish this fight properly. You have no choice but to grab his forearm, slowing his blade’s descent, and a mirthful, rasping noise leaves his chest - a laugh that sets his eyes alight.

And then, the pressure dissolves, falling away. He stands, smirking down at you, the sun like a damning halo around his head. Silence falls over the arena, the anticipation thick in the air as he raises his hand, gesturing somewhere over your shoulder.

"Go on, little witch, get your knife."

You sneer, seeing the greed in his eyes, the misguided belief that he’s got you where he wants you. He wants to play, and it delights you.

Taking a few steps in the direction of the knife, you feign acquiescence. You can feel his eyes on your back, can sense the triumph oozing off him, and you let the adrenaline coursing through your veins guide your limbs, twisting you around so you can lunge at him, one hand wrapping around his bare forearm and bending it backwards as you spin him sharply until his back meets your chest. Viciously, you yank his arm further back, and the pain of that combined with your elbow tight around his throat, constricting his airways, is enough to loosen his grip.

A gasp ripples through the crowd as Feyd-Rautha drops his knife. It lodges in the ground beside your foot, and you flick it up with the toe of your boot, your hand darting out to snatch it from the air. The man in your arms bucks and writhes, but you keep your hold on him as you bring the knife to his neck for the second time.

"Uh oh," you sing-song into his ear. "What’s happened here?"

He stills in your arms a little. "Why don’t you do it?"

"I fear I’ve grown attached to you during our little fight," you hum. "It would be a shame to end a specimen like yourself."

"You are Bene Gesserit, I’m sure that you have arrangements - "

"I may be one, but I do not follow the order," you snarl. "I spare you because I wish to. Now, Harkonnen, knock the knife from my hand."

You feel his muscles tense, the hesitation coursing through his body as he determines whether your bid is a trick or not, and then he does as you say, catching it smoothly and spinning to bring it to your throat. Calmly, you stare into his narrowed eyes, the cold caress of the blade harsh against your exposed skin.

"What’s stopping me from killing you now, little witch?"

You laugh. "I trust I’ve piqued your interest sufficiently, na-Baron."

"Just Feyd is fine."

You open your mouth to mock him, but he slices the blade away from your neck, very purposefully nicking you. Blood beads at the seam of the cut, hot and vengeful; he grips the back of your neck, exposing your throat to him, and prickles of pain shoot through you as the wound stretches. Frozen, you wait to see what he’ll do next, heart fluttering in your chest in a way that you know is not fear.

Insouciantly, he licks a long stripe up your skin, his scorching tongue following the trail of crimson his blade left behind. All consuming heat wells up in your stomach when he grins at you, displaying the hint of red coating his obsidian teeth, his eyes igniting the air between you as they dip down to survey your body, your heaving chest.

And then he releases you. You find your knees have gone weak, and you stumble as the guards close around you, grabbing you roughly under the armpits and dragging you out of the arena, your knees making twin tracks in the sand.

Managing a glance behind you, you catch sight of Feyd, his fist held triumphantly in the air as the crowd roars for their na-Baron.

Unsurprisingly, they throw you into a cell. Its walls are made of smooth, dark metal which seem to swallow up any sound that you make - it doesn’t surprise you that Vladimir Harkonnen has a Bene Gesserit proof cell - and the only thing furnishing it is a black blanket on the ground. A servant comes in and treats the shallow cut on your neck, but he refuses to meet your eyes and scurries off as fast as he can, almost forgetting to lock the door behind him.

You estimate two hours, maybe three, before Feyd appears in the doorway. His silhouette appears in the small glass window set in the door and pauses; you wonder if he’s considering leaving you there for a little longer, but then the lock disengages with a whoosh and the door slides open.

The air is immediately charged as he strides down the steps, eyes locked on you. With the smooth hiss of hydraulics, the door closes behind him, and he prowls forward, not quite smiling yet - you sense that he’s here to continue what you didn’t finish in the arena, and your back straightens a little as his gaze rakes over your body. He’s taken off his armour, leaving him in the thin black underclothes beneath, and he too has had someone treat the wound in his neck.

"Your resistance to the drugs is remarkable, little witch. My blade was laced too."

You raise an eyebrow. "I find that matter quite disappointing, actually, that you must face your opponents in the arena when they are half sedated in order to best them."

He smiles, stepping closer to you until you share air. "It’s not just the winning I seek."

"Oh, what is it then?" You ask. "Pain?"

Quick as a snake, you strike, letting the thrill of the fight shoot through you yet again as he matches you blow for blow. He looks at you as if he wants to eat you, to taste you - not just your lips or your tongue, but the defiant burn of your lifeblood too, and it makes you want to sink your teeth into him.

Slipping past his guard to catch the front of his shirt, you bunch the material in your hand and tear, baring his well muscled chest to you. The sight of it makes your lips quirk upwards, further so at the sound he makes: a half growl and a half groan as he lunges for you, wonderfully infuriated by the way you dance just out of his grasp, slipping through his fingers like water. His eyes are kindled with ardour - for both your blood and your flesh - and when they meet yours, shivers snap down your spine and tug at your stomach.

Feinting to the left, you jab at his neck. Like a scorpion waiting to strike, he grabs your wrist, tugging you towards him; you glance down at his feet, easily predicting that he’s going to sweep your legs out from under you if you let him bring you any closer. Yanking your hand back, you attempt to shake his grip on you, but he refuses to let go.

You slap him across the face.

Hard.

His fingers loosen on you as his head snaps to the side, the noise your palm makes against his chiselled cheek sharp and ringing in the cell. A soft, animalistic sound leaves the back of his throat, and when he lifts his chin, his jaw clenched to perfection, the pure lust in his eyes makes you stumble back a step.

Rushing at you, he takes advantage of the heady swoop of desire that messes with your head, slowly backing you against the wall with each punch and kick he throws. Heat roils in his gaze, so intense that when he slams you against the wall, you don’t know whether he’s going to kill you or kiss you - the not-knowing thrills you, sets your bones and soul on fire. One of his hands comes up, his fingertips caressing your throat before he pounces, mercilessly cutting off your air supply.

Leaning into your space, he brings his lips up to your ear. "If I’d had my way, little witch, I’d have fucked you right there on the sand, with all of them watching."

Your head spins, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the lack of oxygen in your lungs or the feeling of his strong thigh pressing between your legs, relentless as he grinds it against your clit. You allow yourself a second to enjoy it before you retaliate, adrenaline seething in your blood.

Burying your nails into his arm, you twist it to the side, unbalancing him and taking him to the floor - his fingers grip your shirt, bringing you down with him. You land on his torso, straddling his hips, and as you do, he snaps his wrists down and rips your shirt from top to bottom down your back. The cool air of the cell sends ripples of goosebumps up your skin, and Feyd’s wide, calloused palms follow their path, surprisingly warm, deceptively gentle.

Bucking his lower body, he flips you over, pinning your hands over head, his long fingers circling your wrists as his hips press heavily into yours. Your eyes flick down to his mouth as he dips his head, his breath ghosting against your cheek; the curve of his lips is soft and almost graceful compared to the rough way he grinds against you, eager for more, yet eager to torture himself with the wait.

Tipping your jaw up, you let your lower lip brush his before you turn your head to the side, denying him. Amusingly, he follows your touch, insistent that you kiss him, but you ease out of his grip and trap him between your arms when he gives chase - a growl sounds low in his chest, one of his hands gripping your thigh, futilely yanking at your trousers as you grapple, rolling over and over on the cell’s floor.

His hand slams down beside your head, stopping your course, his forearm flat against your throat - not quite choking you, but not letting your air supply run free. Feyd’s touch sears your skin in the best way, and you wish to be consumed by the flames.

"Must I tie you up, little witch?"

His voice is low and rasping, sending shivers up your spine. You don’t answer, instead claiming his lips, welcoming the insistent press of his tongue as you thrust your hips against his, seeking that exquisite friction. Running your hands up his strong back, you hook your elbow around the nape of his neck, locking him to you as he explores the taste of you.

Abruptly, he pulls away, and you open your mouth, protest on your lips until he tugs down your trousers and underwear, tossing them somewhere to the side, his own garments following. You get one good look at him, at his powerful, muscle lined thighs framing your hips and the curve of his leaking cock against his stomach before he swipes his fingers between your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

When he lowers his face to your heat, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, a breathless moan slips from you, loaded with anticipation. You can’t stop the louder echo that leaves you when he dips his fingers into cunt, curling them to hit your sweet spot, and your nails claw at his shoulder blades, leaving red trails behind them.

"That’s it, little witch," he croons. "Sing for me."

And sing you do, as he wrings the pleasure from you with his tongue and fingers until your legs tremble and close around his head. He pins your thighs to the floor, holding you open for him as he tastes you, insatiable, pushing you unrelentingly over the edge, again and again until hot tears slide down your cheeks and your voice breaks from crying his name.

Finally, he buries his length inside you. Your eyes roll back at the stretch of it, your pussy fluttering around him; you muffle the moan that rips itself from your chest by biting down on his shoulder. He chuckles as you mewl his name, your back arching as he pulls out, only sheathe himself up to the hilt when he thrusts back in - he’s as drunk on your sounds as you are on his cock: he needs more. More of you, of your delicious sounds and your intoxicating scent and that sweet, sweet cunt of yours.

Feyd fucks like he fights: ruthless, full of passion and lust, remorseless.

Just as you’re about to come around his cock, he pulls out, leaving you scrabbling against the floor, hips futile as they follow his, his name like a plea on your lips. He drinks in your desperation, flipping you over and cracking his palm down hard on your ass before slamming himself back into your weeping pussy, the ragged cry that escapes you like the nectar of the gods on his tongue as he swallows it with a kiss. Gathering your hair in his fist, he pulls your head back, pounding tirelessly into you as he pins you to his solid chest, mouthing at the skin behind your ear.

As Feyd spills his warm seed inside you, you wonder if the Bene Gesserit were actually distracted, or if that was what they wanted you to think as they crossed bloodlines, even despite your defiance of their order.

You flop onto the blanket as Feyd eases himself out of your spasming cunt. Your head is fuzzy, warm, and a dumb smile pulls at your lips.

Feyd chuckles. "I have not broken you, have I, little witch?"

You send him a look half as fierce as it should be. "Barely. You have merely sated me - for now."

He laughs again, lying next to you on the blankets. His body is angled towards you, but he doesn’t reach out - that he lay down beside you is surprising to you in the first place, but you seize the opportunity and curl up in the curve of his body, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Slowly, his fingers card through your hair, and you close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy the moment of softness from the bloodthirsty na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Reaching out, you grab the blanket and fold it over the two of you - he rolls over so that he lies with his head resting on your chest. His lips brush the skin between your breasts, and you're struck by the glimpse of vulnerability that Feyd allows you to witness; this is not by accident, this is a gift from him, a way of silently telling you that he has come as close to trusting you as he could ever come to trusting someone.

Silent, you bask there in the afterglow, eyes half closed. At some point, you seek Feyd’s lips, and he obliges you, lazily exploring your mouth in a way he did not get a chance to do before, sighing contentedly as you trace the lines your nails carved along the grooves of his broad back. Eventually, you pull away, staring into his eyes where the embers of the fire that had blazed in them still glow with the heat of it. You need to go.

Gently, your breath mingling with his, you kiss his cheek, your lips gliding against his skin before you get up, briefly laughing at the wobbly nature of your legs before gathering your clothes and dressing as best as you can, considering he ripped your shirt all the way down the back.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s propped himself up on his elbows; the blanket has slipped down to reveal most of his moon coloured stomach, and he regards you with mirth mixed with something like respect.

You pause in the doorway. You can tell he’s letting you leave.

A smile plays on his lips.

"We’ll meet again, little witch."

It’s not a question, nor a whimsy. It’s a promise.

[lennart11412]

The Rebellion of Sheba

1And there happened to be there a [a]rebel, whose name was Sheba the son of Bichri, a Benjamite. And he blew a trumpet, and said:

“We have no share in David, Nor do we have inheritance in the son of Jesse; Every man to his tents, O Israel!”

2So every man of Israel deserted David, and followed Sheba the son of Bichri. But the men of Judah, from the Jordan as far as Jerusalem, remained loyal to their king.

3Now David came to his house at Jerusalem. And the king took the ten women, his concubines whom he had left to keep the house, and put them in seclusion and supported them, but did not go in to them. So they were shut up to the day of their death, living in widowhood.

4And the king said to Amasa, “Assemble the men of Judah for me within three days, and be present here yourself.” 5So Amasa went to assemble the men of Judah. But he delayed longer than the set time which David had appointed him. 6And David said to Abishai, “Now Sheba the son of Bichri will do us more harm than Absalom. Take your lord’s servants and pursue him, lest he find for himself fortified cities, and escape us.” 7So Joab’s men, with the Cherethites, the Pelethites, and all the mighty men, went out after him. And they went out of Jerusalem to pursue Sheba the son of Bichri. 8When they were at the large stone which is in Gibeon, Amasa came before them. Now Joab was dressed in battle armor; on it was a belt with a sword fastened in its sheath at his hips; and as he was going forward, it fell out. 9Then Joab said to Amasa, “Are you in health, my brother?” And Joab took Amasa by the beard with his right hand to kiss him. 10But Amasa did not notice the sword that was in Joab’s hand. And he struck him with it in the stomach, and his entrails poured out on the ground; and he did not strike him again. Thus he died.

Then Joab and Abishai his brother pursued Sheba the son of Bichri. 11Meanwhile one of Joab’s men stood near Amasa, and said, “Whoever favors Joab and whoever is for David—follow Joab!” 12But Amasa wallowed in his blood in the middle of the highway. And when the man saw that all the people stood still, he moved Amasa from the highway to the field and threw a garment over him, when he saw that everyone who came upon him halted. 13When he was removed from the highway, all the people went on after Joab to pursue Sheba the son of Bichri.

14And he went through all the tribes of Israel to Abel and Beth Maachah and all the Berites. So they were gathered together and also went after [b]Sheba. 15Then they came and besieged him in Abel of Beth Maachah; and they cast up a siege mound against the city, and it stood by the rampart. And all the people who were with Joab battered the wall to throw it down.

16Then a wise woman cried out from the city, “Hear, hear! Please say to Joab, ‘Come nearby, that I may speak with you.’ ” 17When he had come near to her, the woman said, “Are you Joab?”

He answered, “I am.”

Then she said to him, “Hear the words of your maidservant.”

And he answered, “I am listening.”

18So she spoke, saying, “They used to talk in former times, saying, ‘They shall surely seek guidance at Abel,’ and so they would end disputes. 19I am among the peaceable and faithful in Israel. You seek to destroy a city and a mother in Israel. Why would you swallow up the inheritance of the Lord?”

20And Joab answered and said, “Far be it, far be it from me, that I should swallow up or destroy! 21That is not so. But a man from the mountains of Ephraim, Sheba the son of Bichri by name, has raised his hand against the king, against David. Deliver him only, and I will depart from the city.”

So the woman said to Joab, “Watch, his head will be thrown to you over the wall.” 22Then the woman in her wisdom went to all the people. And they cut off the head of Sheba the son of Bichri, and threw it out to Joab. Then he blew a trumpet, and they withdrew from the city, every man to his tent. So Joab returned to the king at Jerusalem.