#(with the intention of coming out to my mother)

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Wife - Pt1

benji blackwood x preg!targ!fem!reader 

His Princess series spin off 

Summary: Two months after settling into Raventree Hall with your new husband. You’re four months pregnant and going through your first pregnancy which isn’t easy but Benji has no issue doing anything and everything to help you. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f), p in v, pregnancy, birth - detailed but not like super intense, time skips

Authors Note: i wish i had a valid reason of why it took me so FKN long to start this!!!! i think it’s bc i don’t want this series to truly end like i literally have a whole timeline and everything planned out for this but it wasn’t time yet 😔🧎🏼‍♀️ as an apology i made him a munch 🤗

Word Count: 4.1k

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4 months pregnant 

It’s been just over two months since we’ve arrived at Raventree Hall. Our first few weeks consisted of us unpacking the wagons filled with my things and making preparations for housing Vermithor and Silverwing. My mother sent supplies to help support the dragon pit and men have been unloading it daily and it’s near completion now.

Benji attends meetings when he’s not in the yard with his men helping make up for the losses they have suffered. I wish to be out there helping but ever since I started showing it’s been impossible for me to leave the castle without him hauling me back inside. I must admit I’m jealous of the amount of time the men get to spend with my husband. 

My bump is not noticeable when I’m wearing my gowns but he knows it’s there so therefore I apparently can’t do anything. I don’t necessarily mind not training and exuding so much energy everyday but I would like to walk the grounds on my own time. The thing I’m thankful for most is that there is a back exit allowing me to walk directly to Silverwing and he’s smart enough not to keep me from her. 

I cried for days when she laid a clutch. We have become so fiercely inseparable since then that I sneak out here even in the middle of the night to curl up with her. I’ll wake in the middle of the night to a blanket wrapped around me and Benji sitting across from me with worry written across his features. 

“The ground is too hard for you and our child.” his voice rough as he adjusts his back. 

“Then make me a bed.” I turn to him with no intention of getting up. 

“You have one in our chambers.” he looks at me with tired eyes. 

“I want to sleep here.” I murmur. 

“I want you to sleep next to me.” he sits up straighter. 

“Then come here.” I pat the ground next to me. 

“I’ll have a bed out here by tomorrow night.” he sighs before coming to curl up with me and Silverwing. 

Vermithor grumbles and circles around Silverwing before thudding to the ground. Benji pulls my back against his chest and lays his hand across my growing stomach. My hand holds his as I lean back into him and fall back asleep.

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5 months pregnant 

Benji kept his word and had a bed brought in the very next day. We were nervous our dragons would scorch it but Silverwing protects it when I’m not there. The daily meetings have finally lessened as everyone is settling into their new stations. New commanders and trainers have been selected and everyday life is starting to go back to normal. 

As the air begins to chill the more time I spend in the bath. It’s truly a work of art. Smooth stone with carved seating. The amount of handmaids and midwives that wait on me either with fresh soaps or oils is absolutely divine. Seeing this for the first time made me want to marry him again. 

“Still enjoying your bath, my wife?” Benjis voice lingers from the door frame he’s leaning on. 

“I think this is the best thing you’ve ever given me, my husband.” I look him over with low lids. 

“Thank you, ladies. You can leave us.” he nods his head to them with a soft smile as they escort themselves out of our chambers quickly.

“Mm and what have I done to deserve the pleasure of you bathing me?” I hum looking to him as he stalks over to the tub. 

“Can I not dote on my wife?” he cups my cheek and I look up at him adoringly. 

“I was starting to wonder if you forgot about me. You only seem to spend time in meetings or with your men.” I raise an eyebrow looking up to him. 

“I tried to get everything back in order as quickly as I could. You’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of time now.” he helps me rise from the bath and keeps both hands on me at all times. 

“I better or I may have to find a second husband.” I wrap the towel around me tighter as he brings us into our bed chambers. 

“Do not jest about such a thing.” his voice low as he turns to me. “I will kill any man you think could possibly replace me.” his hand goes to rest on my bump.

“Relax.” I chuckle smoothing his furrowed brow. “There is no one else for me.” our eyes lock on one another. 

“You are mine and only mine.” his brow furrows again as he pulls me closer. 

“I am yours.” I nod my head reassuring him. 

“Growing with our child.” he brings both of his hands to my bump and kneels before me. “Our son.” he kisses across my stomach as I brush his hair back. His hands trail up my thighs and my breath catches. 

“Benji,” his name barely a whisper on my tongue. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, my Princess.” he kisses across my thighs. “Come to the bed so I can show you just how sorry I am.” he smirks up at my reddened cheeks. 

As we make it to the bed he pulls my towel off and looks me over with hungry eyes. I turn to him and start to help him undress and as his skin is revealed I caress every inch. My fingertips trail down his torso and start to unlace is trousers. Once he’s freed I look up to him with low lids and he backs me up to the bed. 

He lowers me onto the bed taking great care and settles between my thighs. I get frustrated that I can’t see his full head anymore when he’s between them but that thought leaves my mind the second his tongue licks against me. He spreads my thighs as he makes his way down to my core. I buck as his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. My breath comes out in pants as he pushes his tongue in me. I buck against his nose and feel my pleasure about to burst. His tongue slides back up to my bud and moans pour from my mouth. 

“Fuck Benji, yes,” I fist the sheets as I come undone with my chest heaving. He lifts up from my thighs licking his lips. He kisses up to my mouth and I whine as I feel him start to push into me. He slowly kisses me as he rolls his hips into mine. Our tongues caress each other as he continues at a languid pace. I whine into his mouth as I feel my pleasure begin to build. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” he pants as his rhythm starts to falter. “My wife, my princess.” he whispers and I come undone around him. I feel him still as his warmth spreads throughout causing my toes to curl. He slowly pulls out and rests next to me, smoothing my hair. He leaves soft kisses along my neck as his hand rests across my bump. After we settle for a couple of minutes I turn to him. 

“I want to-“ 

“I know, I know.” he kisses my forehead before rolling out of bed. He pulls on a pair of night pants before he finds me a night dress and brings it over to me. He helps me sit up and slips the soft fabric over my head. We walk down the back steps and curl up with our dragons. 

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6 months pregnant 

I roll my eyes as Benji clips me into Silverwing and triple checks that everything is secure. Silverwing grumbles at the same time as I exhale loudly. I hear Benjis soft chuckle as he pulls back to look at me. He kisses across my furrowed brow before placing a quick kiss on my lips. 

“Stop pouting.” he bites his lip to stifle his laugh. 

“Then get off. We want to fly.” my hands squeeze the leather reins. 

“At once, princess.” he bows and I curse lowly at him much to his delight. “I’ll see you in the skies.” once I see him walking to Vermithor we launch into the sky. Silverwing glides us along the breeze along the countryside and I let my eyes drift shut. The wind blows through my hair and we slowly make our way up to the clouds. 

I open my eyes when I feel the cool kiss of the clouds against my cheeks. Silverwing sings as she pushes us through them as I smile and lean against her. I hear a deep hum and see Benji below us on Vermithor. We dip down to them and they circle around us. Our dragons sing to each other as they fly on the breeze together before bringing us back home. 

“You two are magnificent.” Benji stands at Silverwings feet and looks up to us. I unclip and climb down to the side and Benjis hands are around my waist immediately. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?” he looks me over, always assessing. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” I grab his cheeks and look in his eyes nodding. “You don’t need to be so protective.” 

“It’s my job to be protective.” Benji starts to lead me up the stairs to our chambers and I groan. 

“Yes, I know.” I sigh as he starts to take off my jacket and boots. “It’s just overbearing sometimes.” I mumble sitting back into a chair as he tries to unlace my shirt. 

“You don’t even want to undress yourself.” he chuckles as he starts to lift the fabric over my head. 

“Because you’ll insist you do it.” I relax further back and he begins to shimmy off my trousers. 

“Do you want me to stop?” his tone borderline mocking and I squint my eyes at him. 

“Benji do not test me.” he smirks at my words. 

“I can call your handmaidens up here.” he hums as he pulls my trousers the rest of the way off. 

“Then leave.” I huff looking down at him. “I don’t know why you insist on being so difficult.” he holds back his smile. 

“Relax, my wife. I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” he kisses up my leg smirking against my skin. 

“Use your mouth for something useful or leave.” I prop myself up to look down at him. 

“So which is it then? Leave or don’t?” he licks his lips. 

“I should throw you in the dueng-“ a moan tears through me as he licks up my slit. He stays buried between my thighs until I’m crying out his name and shaking beneath him. He pulls off his clothes before settling next to me and splaying his hand across my bump with his face next to his. 

“I can’t wait for you to join us out here. I’m scared of mommy.” he whispers and I tug his hair. 

“Benjicot.” I scold. 

“I think she’s just so excited to meet you that is making her lose her patience.” he coos peppering kisses against my swollen stomach. 

“Daddy doesn’t understand what I’m going through to bring you to us.” I hum rubbing my stomach. “And if daddy doesn’t mind his words he’ll find himself unable to speak any.” Benji chuckles, coming up to place a kiss on my lips. 

“You are absolutely radiant and if you want me to be silent for the rest of our days then I shall be.” he kisses down my jaw and before cuddling me against him. 

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7 months pregnant 

The days have begun to feel longer and I’m now grateful for Benji waiting on me hand and foot. Lately the only reason I’m out of bed is to sit in the bath. My mother sent a dozen midwives and maesters to aid me in the coming months to help me adjust. I’ve just felt so uncomfortable and I miss flying. 

“Let me help you back to bed.” Benji pleads from outside of the tub. 

“I feel even more uncomfortable in bed.” my voice cracks as I look to him. 

“The water is cold and you’re pruning.” his brows furrowed as he holds my hand. 

“I don’t care.” my lip wobbles. 

“What can I do to get you out of the tub?” he kneels down searching my eyes. 

“I want to see Silverwing.” my eyes pleading. 

“That’s a lot of stairs.” he winces as I sigh loudly. 

“Then just get me up.” I wave my hand angrily. 

“My love-“ 

“Just get me up. I don’t care.” I snap as I start to rise out of the bath ignoring my back yelling in protest. His hands fly to my waist and wrap around me under my arms to help me step out. I walk slowly back over to the bed and ease onto it with a grunt. 

“Do you want me to get the midwives or maesters?” Benji looks down at me worriedly. 

“No.” I wince pushing myself up. “I don’t want anything.” I glance at him before pulling the blankets over me. “Just leave.” I huff at the hot tears running down my cheeks. 

“My princess, please,” he steps toward me. 

“Benji, just give me an hour.” I toss my head back into the pillow. I curse myself for being so mean to him. I’m just uncomfortable and I hate all of the restrictions. The past month has been so uncomfortable I can’t bear it anymore. I’m getting so pent up and stir crazy I don’t know how I’ll be able to do this for two more months. I brush away my tears as I settle further into the bed letting my only other reprieve: sleep take over.

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I open my eyes to a dimly lit room and Benji asleep in a chair at the end of the bed. I sigh at myself that my actions and words made him feel the need to sleep in a chair. I stretch down and push my foot against his leg to wake him up. He slowly blinks and looks to me with a lazy smile. 

“How are you my beautiful wife?” he hums watching my cheeks flush. 

“I’m sorry I’m so mean.” my voice small and he frowns. 

“You’re not mean. Why would you think that?” he stands and walks to my side to brush my hair back. 

“You didn’t sleep in bed with me.” I look up to him. 

“You asked me to give you space. I figured that staying at the end of the bed was a good compromise.” he leans down to kiss my forehead. 

“Come to bed.” I push my bottom lip out and he chuckles. He slips into bed beside me and we turn to look at one another. “I’m sorry.” a tear slips down my cheek. 

“There is absolutely nothing to apologize for.” he shakes his head. 

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8 months pregnant 

“Why did you send word for her?” my voice travels throughout our chambers. 

“You won’t leave our chambers or see any midwife or maester. You won’t let them even check up on the babe. Who else did you expect me to write to? She can give us answers without even needing to see you.” I fume at his words. 

“Gods know if you ever ceased contact with Alys in the first place.” I roll my eyes at him as I ease myself down to the couch with shaky arms. 

“Enough.” Benji says through his teeth as he helps me sink to the cushions. “Can I bring her up?” he looks down to me clenching his jaw. 

“Whatever pleases you.” I huff resting back. I’m doing fine, I just don’t want so many people around me. I feel claustrophobic in my own body. I don't need to feel like that in my chambers as well. As Alys walks through the door she seems to glide over to me and looks at me with curious eyes. 

“How are you, princess?” she asks taking a seat next to me. 

“Ready to have this babe.” I sigh, resting my hand on my swollen stomach. 

“Any discomfort?” I laugh at her question. 

“Of course. Look at me.” I turn my head to her with a smile. “Benji is insistent on having every person available hover over me. I’m just tired.” Alys looks to me with a smile. 

“Leave us.” she waves at Benji. He slips out of our chambers and I turn my head to her expectantly. “May I?” she asks, looking to my bump. 

“Go ahead.” I nod and watch as she places her hand against me. I watch as emotions pass across her face until she’s lifting her hand off and smiling at me. 

“He’s well. No issues. But you on the other hand..” she tsks. “Allow your husband to care for you.” she gives me a knowing look. “It’ll help relax you. Your tense state isn’t good for anyone. I’ll be staying to help with the birth.” she stands and walks to the door. 

“That’s unnecessary.” I call after her and she waves me off before dipping through the door. I shake my head at the fact that she said nothing of true value besides that my babe is healthy. Benji slips through the door with red cheeks and walks over to me. “What did she say to you?” I raise my eyebrow at him. 

“She told me to come in here and please you until you relax.” his voice low as his cheeks flush even darker. 

“She’s ridiculous.” I roll my eyes and watch him as he stalks over to me. 

“It’s been awhile..” he trails off standing before me. “You don’t even have to move.” he hums, getting on his knees and pushing up my night dress. 

“Benji,” my voice broken as he runs his hands up my legs. 

“Do you want to stay here or move to the bed?” he looks up to me with dark eyes. 

“The bed.” I nibble my lip. He stands and helps me over to the bed. He pulls my night dress off of me and helps prop me up against the pillows. He settles between my legs kissing both of them. His tongue darts against my inner thighs and I buck into him. His hands hold my thighs open as he licks a thick stripe up my slit. “Fuck Benji,” I tremble above him fisting the sheets. 

“Just let go princess.” he says before attaching his mouth to me. High pitched gasps fall from my mouth as he swirls his tongue around my sensitive bud. My thighs shake as he holds them open as lashes against me. I burst across his face and he keeps lapping his tongue against me. I feel my pleasure building by the second as I push back into the pillows. Benji follows my movements and slips his tongue down to my core as I grind against his face. 

“Right there Benji,” I cry out as I pulse around his tongue. He pulls up and replaces his tongue with his fingers against my bud. When I see his face I see that he’s smiling wildly with a wet chin as I squirm around his fingers. 

“How’s that feel?” he licks his lips watching me pant and grind against his hand. 

“So good,” I whine as he dips his fingers into me. A wrecked sob tears through me as I burst across his fingers. He starts to push his fingers in faster and I feel like I’m in a continuous high as I pulse around him. He slows his pace and my breathing starts to come out in little gasps. He pulls them out and lays in bed next to me as my chest heaves. “Thank you,” I turn to him with heavy lids. 

“Rest.” he presses his lips against mine and holds me as I sleep. 

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Birth

“I’m right here. You can hold my hand.” Benjis soft voice irritates me. 

“I don’t want to hold your fucking hand.” I grit out as another contraction washes over me.

“Hey, hey,” my mother comes to my side with a cool cloth. 

“He’s the reason I’m in this situation.” I stare daggers at him as he holds his hands up. 

“Benji, go get her a glass of water.” my mother turns to him and he’s on his feet at once with a purpose. “Focus on your breathing with me.” she looks in my eyes and nods her head. 

“It’s almost time to begin pushing.” Alys says from the doorway. 

“I have the water.” Benji pushes past Alys and is back at my side. 

“Gods everyone get away from me. I’m hot. Stop hovering.” I start to panic at the reality of me having to actually have this babe and it’s becoming overwhelming. I squeeze my eyes shut willing everyone to be quiet and let me breathe. 

“Look at me, my wife.” Benjis words catch my attention. “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” I focus on his calm words as my mother lays my brow with the cold cloth. 

“I’m scared.” I look up at him as another contraction rocks through me. 

“I’m here.” Benji assures me holding my hand tightly. 

“I’m here too, sweet girl.” my mother whispers. I cry out as another cramp slams my senses. 

“It’s time.” Alys sweeps into the room and is next to the maester in seconds. 

“Push,” the maester instructs and my body responds accordingly. I scream as I push again and my mother tries to get me to focus on her breathing. Sweat forms on my brow and my mother dabs it away as I squeeze Benjis hand. 

“You’re doing amazing.” Benjis words of encouragement offer me some comfort as I feel the breath stolen from me at the pain. 

“Push princess.” Alys instructs and I groan as tears stream down my face. I push and gasp for breath. “I can see the head.” Alys nods at me. 

“You’re almost there.” my mother offers me her hand and I squeeze it tightly as I give my all into this last push. I sigh as I feel a loss of pressure and Benji chuckles from my side. I hear the babes cry and soon Alys is bringing the babe up to my arms. 

“How is he?” I cry as I hold him. 

“He’s healthy as expected.” she brushes against the babes dark silver hair. 

“You're incredible.” Benji whispers, wrapping his arm around me. The babe opens his eyes and I gasp taking in his one violet eye and his one brown eye. 

“He’s absolutely handsome.” my mother peeks over my shoulder at him. “What will you name him?” 

“Daemon.” Benji and I speak at the same time. 

“He would be so proud.” my mother brushes the hair from my forehead. “We’ll give you three some time.” she nods for everyone to clear out of our chambers. 

“Help me up.” I look to Benji. 

“I will do no such thing.” he looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it to you.” 

“I wish to put him in his crib with his egg.” I coo down to my son as I spot Benji walking over to the wooden frame. “And if daddy scrapes that crib against the floor to bring it over here and wakes you up from your sleep mommy will kick him out for the night.” I caress Daemons cheek. 

“Five minutes.” Benji relents coming to my side. I wince and groan as I rise from the bed with the babe in my arms. He helps me walk over to the crib. I place our son on the feather mattress and he turns to curl against his egg. Benji holds me against him as I lean on him for support as we watch our son sleep. “Back to bed.” he helps me slowly get back into bed and covers me before slipping in beside me.

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masterlist 🔌 

okokok so i’m anticipating at least one to two more parts of this 

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme

[restinslices]

Hello, I saw the publication, idea of MK1 characters with a combat medical reader, and I was wondering if you could do it. With the Lin Kuei brothers and if possible Harumi 😔☝🏻

Sorry for the bad English, it's not my mother tongue

L.N

Hey pookie. Ngl, I was having trouble making all of them different so imma pick one brother to do and if you want the rest, you can request again. Maybe spacing them out will let my brain marinate and actually work lol. Also I don't know anything about Harumi. I won't even lie to you-. Also your English is legit perfect.

I imagine that he'd meet combat medic reader at a young age

You're apart of the Lin Kuei, so he meets you when he's "adopted"

You still fight and all that jazz but you're also being trained in healing

He was adopted after his family was killed so um, yeah, he's a bit shook up and nervous

He doesn't know how he feels. He just stays in his room. He absolutely hates how everyone stares at him. He feels like he's being watched all the time

You're good friends with Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, so you're used to spending time with them at their place

I can see the first interaction being something simple. Like, his new dad (who is the Grandmaster of the clan that murdered his family) (I just CANNOT get over this shit) asks you to get him for dinner

You peek your head in his room to tell him dinner is ready. That's it. That's all.

He doesn't know who you are and honestly he has no intentions on finding out

But then over time he starts actually training, and that comes with injuries. He gets a real fucked up shoulder and is sent to your area

He's quiet the whole time for multiple reasons; he doesn't know you fr, he's still not sure about this clan, and he's watching you work your healer magic

You try to make smalltalk but he's kinda in and out of this world. Keeps zoning out. You can understand why though. Everyone knows what happened to his family

That's how your relationship is for awhile. He comes to get healed, then he leaves without really talking

Things change though when you're sent to get him for dinner again and you walk in on him crying

You're not an asshole, so you close the door behind you and sit by him

Neither of you talk. After some time you leave then come back with two plates of food

"I lied and said you were sick. Also asked if I could give you company" "Why'd you do that?" "I didn't want you to be alone in here" "Oh... thank you. Seriously" "It's all good man. You uh, wanna talk about something?

That's when the friendship truly starts. That act of kindness really sticks with him and now he truly thinks you're a good person to be around

He comes to you when he gets seriously fucked up in training or on actual missions. Sometimes he just chills out in your area and you two chat while you work on healing someone

I could see him take an interest in anatomy and shit after seeing what you do

I just see y'all vibing in your little healing hut a lot

I do think going on missions would be funny though-

"I gotta pop your shoulder back in place!" "You can't magically heal it?!" "Not this time!" "Hurry up then!" *pop* "DAMN!

"Do you get injured on purpose more when I'm here?" "I'm doing my best here"

As for when you start dating, honestly I don't see you dynamic changing much

A relationship with Tomas is like being friends but y'all hold hands occasionally

Oh and obviously you join the new clan (I am not googling how to spell that rn)

Gotta give y'all a happy ending sometimes

[xxlady-lunaxx]

Hehe and it's me again! So i dont know if it's late in your country or no. (In mine it's arleady 23:01 anyways so i am here to request something that was in my mind since two days, how about the hashira being totally shocked cause they find out that Obanai sanemi and giyuu are in a poly relationship, like didn't they hated Giyuu? and didnt giyuu hated them too.....

im so mad bc i answered this but then my wifi cut off and then it got deleted DHGHGJ / it’s late evening here rn idk

Hashira reacting to SaneObaGiyuu !

Shinobu Kocho:

Pure disbelief, she’s utterly flummoxed and does NOT believe it. She’s probably supportive but ever so confused, wondering how the fuck they managed this and why and what and when— She maybe suspected Giyuu’s intentions to be their ‘friends’ had ulterior motive but hadn’t even suspected that, nor thought about it long enough to consider it. She’s in a lil shock, give her time and she’ll go back to teasing them (as a whole now).

Muichiro Tokito:

He really does not give a fuck.

Tengen Uzui:

He’s a bit confused and wondering how any of them managed to pull anyone, especially with their personality clashes, but he’s all encouragement and doesn’t mind. He’s probably leaning in for alllll the details. It’s everyone’s problem if he doesn’t find out everything. Really wouldn’t have seen it coming, but then again the most unapproachable Hashira were bound to get together, right?

Kyojuro Rengoku:

(blink blink) Congratulations!!! ?? (he’s a bit confused, wondering how it came out to be like this, but 100% supportive and absolutely hoping that this will make them fight less) (thinks they’re a nice trio tho) (hopes they won’t gang up together against mutual enemies unless it’s muzan, then he hopes they go all out LMAOO)

Mitsuri Kanroji:

#1 supporter all the fucking way!! She’s relieved they got along and wants the best for them. She’s exuberant and giggling (Sanemi was trying not to punch her) and she really wants to hug them all. Feels like a proud mother watching her children grow (neither of the three see her as a mother figure in the very slightest)

Gyomei Himejima:

Glad they’re together, hopes they prosper well, probably the calmest about it. He’s happy for them and is glad they relatively get along now. Also has a little questions about how they managed to talk all of it out, but won’t pry.

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

Yukiya's Birth Mother (Novel Translation)

Blog Version

Context: At the end of the book, the equivalent of Episode 11, Natsuka and Sumio reveal they have not only known all along Yukiya’s real lineage, but they approached him with their intention to make the most of said status for Wakamiya’s sake.

“Brother!” Wakamiya’s sharp voice resounded through the room once again. Natsuka fell completely silent.

Sumio, who had been happily prattling on without a care until a moment ago, looked in Yukiya’s direction. His face suddenly twisted in discomfort.

“… Yukiya? What’s wrong?” He asked, yet Yukiya had no words in him to answer.

“Hah, so it’s as I thought, you are from the Northern House!” Rokon exclaimed, paying no mind to the dark mood in the room. “Well, there is no mistaking the Northern bloodline with a face of yours. Was that whole tale about having a different mother just some lie?”

No comment was made on Rokon’s insensitive question. Instead, his tone subdued, Wakamiya started to explain.

“It’s not a lie. Out of the three Taruhi brothers, the Northern Princess only gave birth to Yukiya. The eldest and the youngest have a different mother.”

“Huh, how come the concubine’s son is the heir of the family? Weird things sure do happen sometimes.”

“She’s not a concubine. Both are legal wives.” Yukiya answered this time, his voice cold as ice.

“Both are legal wives? What does that even mean?”

As Yukiya spoke on, he made a point of ignoring Natsuka and Sumio. They only stood there, perplexed by the boy’s sudden change in attitude.

“It’s normal you didn’t know, Sir Rokon,” Yukiya said, “Both Taruhi and the Northern House treat my birth mother, the first legal wife of the Lord of Taruhi, as if she hadn’t ever existed. But she was the Lord of the North’s second daughter.”

Yukiya kept explaining, emotionless. “She was frail from birth, or so I’ve been told. Everyone thought she couldn’t have children, and that she wouldn’t live for much longer anyway.”

The Lord of the North once pitied his daughter, saddled as she was by a short lifespan, and wanted nothing but to give her a chance to experience a happy simple life. And so, he sought to marry her to a man of her own choice, one she loved. The man she chose for herself was the then eldest son of Taruhi: Yukiya’s father, Yukimasa. She had fallen in love at first sight, apparently, and it was not a bad deal for Yukimasa either.

At the time, Yukiya’s grandfather held the position of Lord of Taruhi Village. He was suffering from sickness and wanted nothing but to retire, but Yukimasa was too young back then, which, among other concerns, led his relatives to ask him to please consider giving the position to another person.

To take up a princess of the Northern House as his legal wife was an extremely effective way to shut those voices up. The princess soon moved in, and Yukimasa took up his position as Lord.

During the following years, Yukiya’s mother led a happy life despite being bedbound. Everyone had thought she would live another year at best when she married, but soon that year turned to two, then three. It should have been happy news, yet a problem started to appear as her life kept prolonging. 

Soon, the Lord of the North started to worry about the lack of heirs.

Her health had indeed stabilized, but he knew her body was still in no condition to bear any children. The idea had been to have Yukimasa remarry once the princess passed away, yet she lived on. Had this situation continued on, the Lord of Taruhi Village would have found himself incapable of having any children. If what came after was a suggestion born out of gratitude towards the man who had accepted to look after his daughter until her death, nobody can say.

It had been the sixth Spring after the princess’s marriage. 

The Lord of the North went to visit the man who married his own daughter and asked him: ‘how about taking a concubine?’ Whether Yukimasa found himself in no position to reject his own lord, or he freely accepted, nobody can say. In the end, he still ended up taking a concubine: the woman who would later raise Yukiya as her own child, Azusa.

The Lord of the North chose Azusa personally, so both her lineage and personality were impeccable. She was truly a wonderful woman. Azusa came from a family of the Central Nobility that had long served the Northern Clan, so the Lord and his Consort had pampered her from childhood as if she were another one of their daughters. 

Yukima, the eldest son, was soon born to Yukimasa and Azusa. It’s said that when the Northern Lord got the news of his birth, he rejoiced as if he were his own grandson.

However, it came as a complete surprise for the Northern Princess. As it turns out, she had not been told anything on the matter before her husband took a concubine and, of all the possible timings, she was only informed of it after Yukima’s birth. To make matters worse, the mother was Azusa, with whom she had grown up as sisters.

The princess, who had lived happily bedbound until then, was enraged. Or perhaps indignation would be a more suitable way to describe it. Whatever it was, the result was the same: she pushed herself to her very limits, gave birth to a son, Yukiya, and then—died, just as expected.

She knew what would happen to her from the start.

Yet Yukiya’s mother ignored everyone’s vehement opposition to the idea, and eventually met her end without ever holding her son in her arms. And so Yukiya, who had lost his mother, was raised by Azusa.

“It’s truly quite the similar story to Wakamiya’s,” Yukiya affirmed, still impassive, “I’m the second son, but there was a time when everyone in the Northern Region thought I would become the heir in my brother’s place.” 

Azusa became Yukimasa’s consort immediately after the Princess died, yet it proved to be pointless. It all happened around the time Yukiya was five years old.

He had simply managed to read a difficult poem before his older brother once, yet that’s all it took. Soon after, both the Northern Court Ravens and their relatives in Taruhi came over all together just to feel out their father’s opinion about disinheriting the older brother.

Thinking back, it was preposterous; but apparently Yukimasa truly found himself at a loss back then. His relatives didn’t hesitate to blame him for the death of the Princess, all because he took a concubine. People would come just to badmouth Azusa to her face, asking her if she didn’t pity the poor dead princess. Her son’s position in the family was in question, and she couldn’t even rely on her own husband; so she suffered alone. 

Despite all of that, Yukimasa kept focusing on staying on good graces with the Northern Lord, and did nothing publicly to protect either Yukima or his still living wife.

“I thought to myself. ‘I won’t tolerate this for yet another second.’”

Natsuka swallowed. Yukiya’s entire self was filled to the brim with utter contempt. “So that’s why… That’s why you always pretended to be a fool”

“Well… There was no other way to save my family, wasn’t it? Despite it all, I do love my family.” Yukiya replied. He was fully aware of his own overflowing rage, and the fact it was plain for all to see. “If my father is not going to protect us, then the only option that’s left is for me to do so. Me, as the second son, to my family.”

And so Yukiya wouldn’t—couldn’t—look past what he had just learnt.

[beba-780]

“You can always come to me, Michael, about anything,” Uncle Henry offered with an encouraging smile.

For a moment, Michael felt himself relax, like a child ready to let go, trusting the adult in control. Like a kid safely falling asleep in his bed during a thunderstorm, knowing it couldn’t touch him. Like a teenager relieved to see firefighters extinguishing a blaze.

But then the memories came flooding back. Uncle Henry had been quick to judge when Michael ran away from William with his siblings. He believed Michael had willingly stolen and sold his mother’s jewelry for a fun shopping trip. When William was arrested, and Fabrinni had forced Michael to dinner with his family, Uncle Henry thought Michael had just run off. He didn’t listen. He never did. Good intentions wouldn’t save him or his siblings. They certainly hadn’t saved Charlie. Uncle Henry might be his godfather, but he wasn’t his friend.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you,” Michael said, turning away as pain prickled in his chest. “Not anymore.” The words felt like a goodbye. And perhaps it was. Goodbye to the man Michael thought Uncle Henry was. Goodbye to the safe haven the Emilys had turned out not to be. Goodbye to the prospect of staying with them, should William finally be out of the picture. Goodbye to his godfather.

------------------------------------------

If it takes me a long time to upload something from this wonderful Fnaf Fanfic, it is because something happened to my computer and I have worked hard to save money so I can maintain it well.

[lordcaptains]

two separate people saw fit to comment on the state of my reproductive organs at my father-in-law's grave today

[firesmokeandashes]

Me: goes onto thriftbooks and searches book

Me: Finds book in paperback edition for $21

Me: Finds that odd, so I look up the same book on Amazon

Amazon: Lists the paperback edition for like $15 and hardcover for $24

Me: *stares intensely at Thrift Books*

Thrift Books: "...."

Thrift Book: "I can explai-"

Me: *Strangles thriftbooks for trying to pull a fast one on me*

[kelin-is-writing]

good morning everyone 🫶🏻💜

yes, it’s a good morning because i dreamed dabi, rei, fuyumi and natsuo 😚

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Beginning to really wonder how much of my financial concern is manufactured and handed to me as opposed to something I'm genuinely concerned by

[foldingfittedsheets]

Did you know guinea pigs are born just like. Tiny adults? They’re fully cooked. They come out, eyes open, fully furred, ready to do the whole array of guinea pig activities.

I learned this as a child. I was perhaps ten when this story took place. Our female guinea pig was pregnant, but she’d gotten mites and needed a bath. She was wildly pregnant. Bulging at the seams with babies. Ready to burst at any moment because all the babies needed to stay in there long enough to be full pigs. But we wanted to avoid the babies all getting mites and needing baths. We failed, they all needed baths. Mites are a bitch.

We knew she had three babies cooking in there. How did we know? We could feel each individual bulge in her belly. My mom was overseeing the pig bath but I was pretty much just doing my own thing, scrubbing her gently, rinsing the soap carefully.

After the bath our mother pig was not in the best mood. I was carrying her back to her freshly made mite free bedding when she’d had enough.

I was acutely aware that I was holding four lives in my childish grip, and I bore her along as if she were made of precious jewels and spun glass. Balanced in my hands I could feel the bulge of each of her babies slithering wetly around under her skin.

Which is why when she hauled off and sank her teeth into the meat of my hand I didn’t flinch. I didn’t drop her. I bore her as carefully and steadily as if I weren’t now bleeding freely, and I set her gently into her pig palace.

As I drew my hands away I screamed:

“FUCK!!!”

I then turned to look at my mother, who’d been watching the process intently.

I was fully aware that I had just done the worst possible swear directly in front of an authority figure and was very probably going to be punished. My mom was looking at me with a blank expression that I was waiting to turn stormy or disappointed.

“That must have hurt a lot,” was all she said.

She helped me throughly clean and bandage the bite. All the babies were born healthy and sound, looking like someone had used a shrink ray on trio of a guinea pigs.

Years later my mother confided in me that contrary to my belief that she’d be angry for swearing what she’d felt for me in that moment was overwhelming pride that in the face of pain and shock I had refused to let harm befall my little charges.

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ SHE'S BACK!

GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! ₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader

tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.

A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.

It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and he’s already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitch– Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.

He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesn’t sound that bad.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. “Miss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!”

Your name wasn’t unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasn’t seen you yet- from what he’s been told you’re the kid’s favorite, including Yuuji’s. “I had to talk about who’s my hero, and I chose you!” If this day wasn’t going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.

“Oh look dad!” The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clñoser towards them. “Daddy, this is Miss Y/N!” Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of what’s how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.

“Daddy? Are you paying attention?” The little boy gained Gojo’s attention back, face now looking at him again. “I’m sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?”

“Uhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?”

“Yuuji!” His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. “I’m so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didn’t intend to say-”

Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing “It’s okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.” 

Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.

You swear it wasn’t your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call ‘mommy’ and give him a sister. 

That made you blush. 

Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dad’s idea.

“You’re so wet, s-shit.” Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofa– waiting for Yuuji’s mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and ‘see Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in love’

Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.

Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you. 

When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, “Shut it. You don’t deserve to speak.”

His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.

“Ffffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?”

“yesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-” 

He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now he’s shirtless–taut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rolls–before seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.

“Good girl.” His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. “Good girls get rewards, don’t they?” Your poor fucked up mind couldn’t think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.

“Yeah?,” His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. “Gojo? I’m almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and… your new girlfriend?” His chuckle interrupted his ex-wife’s conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.

A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.

“Finish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.” Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.

His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that could’ve been, it melts you like it’s how it always should’ve been.

His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed “fuck,” and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard. 

“Shit. Can you walk?”

PART 2

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[therealvalkyrie]

so I’m going to a wedding on Saturday and I have nothing appropriate to wear, so I tell my mom I’m going shopping and she makes ONE comment and it’s ruined my whole afternoon lmfao

[fairuzfan]

But the other images I had was like a mass refugee camp. So basically at that point in time, two months ago, about 20,000 people had sought refuge both in the hospital and outside the hospital. And these weren’t tents. They’re still not tents. They’re makeshift shelters with bed sheets or plastic bag sheets. The ones outside sleep on the floor. They’re lucky [if] they get a carpet or a mat. There was one bathroom at the time for about 200 people that they have to share. And inside, the hallways of the hospital were also made into shelters. There was hardly any room to walk, and there’s children running around everywhere. It’s important to remember all these people were not homeless. They all had homes that were destroyed. They’re all displaced people that took shelter in the hospital.

So that’s the kind of mass chaos that I encountered initially, and then I was told that every time there’s a bomb, give it about 15 minutes and the mass casualties come. That was the other thing that at the time shocked me: What we’d been seeing livestreamed on Instagram, on social media or whatever, I actually saw myself and it was worse than I can imagine. I saw scenes that were horrific that I’d never witnessed before and I never want to see again. You have a mother walking in holding her 8, 9-year-old, skinny — because they’re all starving — boy who’s dead, he’s cold and dead and [the mother is] screaming, asking for someone to check his pulse and everybody’s busy in the mass chaos. So that was kind of my initial welcoming scene when I entered Khan Younis the first time.

{...}

What I saw — I’m an eye surgeon, an eye plastic surgeon, and so I saw the classic, what I penned “the Gaza shrapnel face,” because in an explosive scenario, you don’t know what’s coming. When there’s an explosion, you don’t go like this [cover your face], you kind of actually, in fact, open your eyes. And so shrapnel’s everywhere. It’s a well-known fact that the Israeli forces are experimenting [with] weapons in Gaza to boost their weapon manufacturing industry. Because if a weapon is battle-tested, it’s more valuable, isn’t it? It’s got a higher value. So basically they’re using these weapons, these missiles that purposely, intently create these large shrapnel fragments that go everywhere. And they cause amputations that are unusual.

Most amputations occur at the weak points, the elbow or the knee, and so they’re better tolerated. But these [shrapnel fragments] are causing mid-thigh, mid-arm amputations that are more difficult, more challenging, and also the rehabilitation afterward is also more challenging. Also these shrapnels [are] unlike a bullet wound. A bullet wound goes in and out; there’s an entry and exit point. Shrapnel stays there. So you gotta take it out. So the injuries I saw were — I mean, I saw people with their eyes blown apart. And when I was there, and this is my experience, I treated all children when I was there the first time. It was kids that [were aged] 2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 15, and 16, and 17 were the ones that I treated. And their eyes unfortunately had to be removed. They had shrapnel in their eye sockets that I had to remove and, of course, remove the eye. There’s many patients, many children who had shrapnel in both their eyes. And you can only do so much because right now, because of the aid blockade and because of the destruction of most of Gaza, there’s no equipment available to take shrapnel that’s in the eye out. And so we just leave them alone and they eventually go blind.

{...}

I was on the ground, I toured the refugee camps, I went around Rafah, I saw, and if there’s an Israeli invasion, I can’t emphasize enough how catastrophic it’s going to be. It’ll be mass killing, mass destruction, because all these figures come in, 50 dead, 100 wounded. But what people don’t realize is, being wounded is a death sentence. Being wounded in this environment with no health care system, completely collapsed, is a death sentence. And the wounded often will lose everybody, like all family members, so they have no supports, especially children, have nobody left to take care of them, not even aunts and uncles. It will be catastrophic. I don’t know what to say to the world to stop an impending invasion. You’ve got to rein this prime minister of Israel in. You got to do something to stop this stupid invasion that he still wants to do, because it’ll be catastrophic.

{...}

I had one young man, about 25 years old, he lost one eye that I took out myself. He spent about five, six, or seven years, basically spent thousands and thousands of dollars in IVF treatment because he got married young and they wanted to have a child and they couldn’t have one. So he spent years on IVF treatment and finally had a baby that was 3 months old. And there was a missile attack by Israel at his home. He lost his entire family, including his baby and his wife and his parents and family. He’s by himself, single guy. I took his one eye out, and he has nobody in this world. He just kind of walks around the tent structures, just kind of walking around with no home and trying to sleep wherever he can.

[poptartmochi]

breeze wiki coming out of left field and flipping the table on the gioiaverse 🤪🍻

[cosmictheo]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 | feyd-rautha

( gif credits to @wondrousashes )

—summary: on a calm day back at your home, you shattered away the serenity as you decide to confront feyd about his alleged concubines and the little secrets he seemed so cautious to hide, pushing him further and further to the edge. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!atreides!reader —word count: 4k —warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy, a bit of implied smut (the actual smut is coming up in the next and last chapter !!!), mentions of sex, mentions of cannibalism, feyd being a slut for the reader (as he should), mentions of killing and death, hot and very passionate love confessions, definitely ooc!feyd.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ★ part one ── part two ── part three (coming soon)

The week at Giedi Prime went by so fast that you hardly noticed any of it. The first day had been a bit slow and tedious, but the ones that followed turned out to be more than agreeable and enjoyable, Feyd-Rautha had been very concerned about keeping you entertained and as comfortable as possible, showing you every corner of the palace and walking you around the city.

But for now, you were back at your home for the last visit you would have there before becoming a Harkonnen. Feyd was staying close to you through all the reunion, naturally, diplomatically greeting your family.

“You met his cannibal lovers yet?” Paul's voice echoed inside your head between Feyd's conversations with Duke Leto, your gaze drifting to your brother in absolute alarm, horrified at the question and relieved that, so far, the answer was negative.

“There are rumors that tell how his concubines feed on the hearts of his dead opponents.” Your brother propelled you with the oh-so-cute information about your future husband. “The bastard has not one, but three. I guess you'll have to battle it out with them for his love, that was Duncan said.”

“Stop it, don't be an idiot.” You snapped back at him, averting your gaze from him to Feyd-Rautha, who was conversing ever so formally with Lady Jessica now.

You couldn't imagine him eating of human flesh, nor fucking three different women at the same time. Although, rumors always started from something and during the few times you had been able to get inside Feyd's head, you hadn't seen anything that was remotely pretty or light.

Paul's words managed to resonate in your head, lingering between the walls with a sense of suspicion.

Maybe that was why he never showed you the intimacy of his chambers... because on his bed lay three women compliantly awaiting for his attention and lust.

For some reason, the false image of him fucking them, bodies intertwined and interlinked, voices whimpering and moaning, made you feel respulsive, your guts twisting like a serpent.

You didn't want to believe it was jealousy, but again, your mind never wanted you to believe anything at all.

The palace of the Atreides stood majestically between rocky mountains, with the golden sunlight falling beautifully on the grayish stone walls, bringing in a warm afternoon. Rising magnificently behind your back, standing like a rocky guardian.

Your gaze was on Feyd-Rautha as you walked together along the outskirts balconies of the castle, your greenish dress swaying in the sea breeze, as did your hair, which you wore unusually loose that day, the sweet smell of it had him crazy.

“Do you like it?” You asked him after a few moments of silence, with a hint of a smile that Feyd noticed as he turned to look at you, noticing as well how you waited expectantly for his opinion of your home, which he knew you always held close to your heart.

After a second, he nodded his head, looking at you intently. “I do.”

His blue eyes, which looked as clear as ever under the natural glow of the place followed you as you walked beside him, keeping himself close to you, he could feel the natural warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your scent.

It was the first time you saw his eyes showing their true color, for back in his home, they rarely reflected so much brightness and his orbs glowed so beautifully in the sunlight. They possessed the most beautiful shade of blue, reminding you of the ocean, of home.

“It's nothing like my home.” Feyd-Rautha added in a more amused, lighter tone of voice, with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, lowering his gaze to the ground, noting how the grass softened each of his steps on it.

“Obviously. Caladan is everything that Giedi Prime and Arrakis are not.” You answered him, snorting the words out with a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind, turning your head to look at him once you stopped at the edge of a greenish cliff after descending one of the many rocky staircases that rose up through the hills.

The sea stretched into the immensity of the horizon and the water was uncommonly calm, waves lapping the shore relentlessly. It was a calm and peaceful scene out there, quite the opposite of what you felt inside, as you felt a tempest of emotions raging in your soul.

“Have you been with someone else like this?”

There was another one of your little questions again.

And he pondered the answer, dragging his eyes as blue as the ocean itself in front of them, back to you.

But Feyd-Rautha was rather certain that you already knew the answer, that you already had it, you could tell by the way he looked at you and the way he addressed you. Because it was enough to be clear that he had never been this way with anyone before, he had never spoken to anyone like this and he had never been so pleased to be in someone's company, basically in his entire life.

“The only people I've ever had this close to me are my family or my enemies, neither of whom I think entertain my presence very much.” Was his reply, honest and respectful. His husky voice, in contrast to the graceful sea breeze was a pleasant and comforting noise to you.

His words were masked with a touch of amusement, as he used to do in the last days when he spoke to you, it seemed as if you brought back that inner child he had, a stranger who felt increasingly closer.

But even using that tone, his eyes told you that he was not lying, that he was giving you the pure truth.

Yet, somehow you were not satisfied with his response. And he knew it.

“Have you been with other women?”

Feyd drew in a breath, half-opening his lips, air hissing between his teeth.

“So I'm assuming you've heard about the rumors about me?”

And there he was, answering you with another question to challenge you back, to play with your head as he had grown to love to do during the short time you had been in each other's company. Your conversations always ended up being a game of back and forth, a game of a tension that would be cut with the least sharp blade.

“My future wife likes to guide what she believes by mere rumors?” He pressed further.

And as always, you exhaled the air held inside you, twisting your head slightly, looking at him with incredulous eyes. “These are not rumors, Feyd —I've seen it.”

His blue eyes narrowed as he walked closer to you, expression both intrigued and yet defiant. “What do you mean you've seen it? Don't play games with me now, woman.”

“Don't threaten me, man,” You squinted your eyes as you pronounced the word like poison, almost coming out like an insult. “I'm not afraid of you.” With your own response to his defiance, this immediately silenced him, stopping him in his tracks right in front of you, as you stepped closer to him, your presence growing menacing now. You were really upset. “Do you think that when I marry you I will allow you to go on screwing around with them?”

“You met them and they threatened you?” Feyd asked in a low tone, maintaining a calm demeanor, though he wanted to know if any of his concubines had dared to even glance at you during your stay at Giedi Prime. His orbs reflected a sensation that ranged to a murderous, bloodthirsty urge, not at you, but at anyone who was stupid enough to threaten you. “Tell me, did they say anything to you?”

You crooked your head very slightly, looking genuinely offended by his questioning.

“Do you think I would allow any of your concubines —anyone at all— to threaten me and go on with their lives?” You replied instantly, looking him up and holding his gaze, as brave as ever. You seemed to be the only one in the whole universe who dared to answer him and put him in his place. And he was loving it, he felt the desire to be broken by you, to let you destroy all his walls and reach his soul. “They'd already be dead if they did.”

An amused grimace twisted his lips, gaze darkening with pride, desire even, approving of your words, feeling suddenly small under the vastness of your aura, dark and menacing now.

“Don't worry about them.” His words sounded humorous this time, just as his fingers laced between yours, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, an attempt to reassure you. “Soon I'll be all yours, sweet girl.”

You frowned your brow slightly, as did your lips, still looking offended. He squinted his eyes, hissing as he realized he had said the wrong thing, yet again.

“I'm not sweet.” Your hand released his, your annoyance rising with the seconds. “I'm not one of your pets you can treat as sweet, Feyd-Rautha.”

He raised his brow, following you with his gaze, puzzled, as you turned around and began to walk back to the palace, turning your back on him and leaving him to talk alone.

“One of my pets?” He questioned, with that amused grimace plastered on his mouth again, as he began to follow your hurried footsteps, his pale face reflected a blend of frustration and irritation. “Do you think I would treat you like one of my pets?”

His voice sounded so husky and frustrated and delicious that you felt like just stopping and jumping on him right there. But your own self-respect and pride were more important, you wanted to believe.

Seeing that you weren't planning to stop, Feyd tried to stop you by grabbing your arm, but his hand remained over your smooth skin, with no major result in trying to calm you down, so he cleared his voice, making the attempt to be as cautious and reassuring with his words.

“I think you must understand that desire and lust is something we all possess, my lady, not just men.”

He was physically relieved when you stopped to be able to look at him, with his hand lingering on your forearm.

But your eyes were still dark with discomfort when they met his once again. “I won't be one of your girls, Feyd-Rautha.”

His lips parted, brow furrowing slightly, his voice kept low. “(Y/N)—”

He stood right there, utterly speechless, with his voice caught in his throat, watching you walk away from him, striding with steps that exuded pure anger up to your rocky palace. His hand dropped from your arm and returned to his side, now far from your warmth and heartbeat.

It took Feyd-Rautha a couple of minutes to pull himself together, sighing heavily, a small smirk curving his lips as he began to walk the path back to the Atreides' palace.

He was absolutely thrilled to discover this side of you that he hadn't previously seen. You were truly frightening and he was loving it.

By the time the moon was bright in the center of the dark sky, shining through the thickness of black, a pair of soft knocks sounded against your chamber door and you didn't have to use any hint of your skills to know who it was.

He looked at you with those now dark blue eyes from across the threshold, arm resting lightly against the grayish stone. He looked strangely troubled, look shadowed.

“Have you always been such a perfect seductress?”Feyd asked you just as you made a questioning gesture with your head. “How many men have you seduced like this?”

You looked him up with doubting eyes, frown slightly furrowed. “What are you talking about—”

He interrupted you in a scratchy voice, fearing somehow, that someone else might hear him, that someone else might witness how desperately vulnerable he was being, for you.

“You've broken me. All I can think about is you.”

Feyd took one step forward and you one step back, so you two moved as if you were in a kind of dance until he eventually entered your chambers, pulling the door shut behind him.

“I can't handle not touching you. It's a rule I'm on the brink of breaking for you.” He whispered and your breath caught in your throat, exhaling air in a stuttering gasp. “And I should— I'm expected to be a gentleman. I'm supposed to behave myself, keep my composure. But you… you are driving me crazy, woman, you play with my head, you've bewitched me.”

You could really see that he was trying to explain himself for you, attempting to articulate everything that was going through his head and you knew that it was very unusual for him to speak out loud about his feelings. And now, you were the one who couldn't say anything at all.

It was true, the most important rule your mother had emphasized to you was that you were not to get involved sexually, or in any way with your betrothed, until the very day of the actual wedding, as that particular night was meant to be consumed.

“Y—you shouldn't be here, my lord.” You managed to utter out after a few hesitant stutters, feeling your back brush against the wall and having him in front of you, trapping you against his body. He seemed to be struggling against his body, against his desire and instinct, hesitant hands twitching at his sides, nearly reaching out instinctively for your body.

“You were so bold back there talking back to me, what happened now? Aw, what happened, pretty?” He asked in a more teasing tone of voice, holding your gaze. “We could put that mouth of yours to good use then, hm?”

“My lord—”

“Call me by name.” He demanded, he begged you, whispering.

“Feyd...” You named him so obediently that it made him smile darkly to himself. “Someone might listen.”

“Are you afraid that someone will find out that two people who are getting married desired each other?” Feyd asked, half-closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose, as if trying to compose himself, trying to convince himself more than you. “There is nothing wrong for a husband to crave for his wife, right?”

You gulped, and his eyes instantly landed on your throat, watching as bone and muscle moved beneath the flesh, his tongue twitched, aching with all his will to be able to just lick the skin of your neck.

“I guess not.” Your voice trembled even when you were trying extra hard to sound confident and certain. “But we are not yet husband and wife.”

“Soon...” Feyd muttered, almost as if he was making a promise, uttering a vow.

His eyes closed as he finally rested his forehead against yours and suddenly, you were breathing from the same air. His trembling breath was warm against your lips and his scent was everything you could have ever craved... and it felt so familiar that your soul seemed to shudder, like something you had smelled all your life, something that had haunted you even in dreams, forever present but yet always so far distant.

“Can I touch you?” Feyd breathed out against your mouth after a few moments.

You didn't answer him verbally, instead you slowly took his hands between yours, fingers placing them in parallel against his, allowing you to feel every inch of the imprint drawn on his fingertips as you dragged yours across his palm, both feeling the size difference.

Then, you rested his big, calloused hands on your waist, allowing him to touch and hold you as much as he wanted and to permit him to do so, a single sight on your eyes was all it took.

He hissed as his hands molded the curve of your waist and instantly afterward drew you into his body, pulling you fully against the wall behind you. Your back arched instinctively and you gasped too, so softly, your chest pressed against his with the motion.

“Touch me.” Feyd-Rautha pleaded, he had never pleaded so... desperately for anything ever in his life.

That was your allowance for your hands reaching for his body, out of control, one making a slow path up through his strong arms while the other rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under your palm, beating echoing your own. Your fingertips gently patted his muscles, recognizing his skin and his body. You got the abrupt urge to claim it as yours. To claim him.

You felt yourself blushing at all the overly imaginative and lustful images of him invading your head.

His nose brushed against yours, nuzzling it affectionately, still without opening his eyes, as if he were in some kind of dream from which he didn't want to wake up. His fingers caressed your belly, tracing a slow caress across your entire abdomen upward, while his other hand gripped your waist, holding you against him.

His touch triggered an immediate reaction across your flesh, skin shivering under his fingers.

Feyd whispered your name like a prayer, like a thirsty man, crawling and screaming for water.

“I'm trying to be good...”

“Don't be.” You whispered back, almost begging, looking up at him, gaze meeting his once he opened his eyes. “Please, Feyd—”

Then finally his lips landed on yours, initiating a kiss that you both craved so much, maybe he more than you for the way he brought you close to him, almost possessively, like a mad man, almost as if he was imprinting his mark on you, marking you for whoever had the courage to look at you.

He let himself sink in the way your lips fit against yours, in the warmth your body offered him, in the all too familiar sensation he could sense in every single fiber of his core from the kiss, your kiss.

Feyd-Rautha felt like a roaring beast just unleashed, ruthless and insatiable, just like when he walked into the arena, eager to kill, rooting against his opponents —and now he was rooting for you, to be near you, to intertwine his soul with yours, to claim you as his own.

And claiming you he was, his scent covered you all over now, making you feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, throbbing crotch, blood seething like an infernal flare. Anyone who came near you would not only smell you, but him too, on every inch of your body. His hands roamed just under your breasts, rubbing across your ribcage and sliding down your back, fingers just barely grazing your ass, pressing you tightly against him in desperation, grasping and squeezing as much of your tender flesh as they could.

Your own palms roamed up his chest, caressing his broad shoulders, all the way up to his neck, tugging him closer to you in desperate motions, impossibly close.

When your bodies begged for oxygen, you broke the passionate kiss, leaving you both breathless. He kissed you once more, allowing you to breathe just for a few seconds before all you breathed was him. He wanted to become your oxygen, something indispensable to you, something you needed to live with, a necessity.

“You're the only one.” Feyd-Rautha mumbled out as his hot and soft lips trailed down a wet path all the way to your neck, tracing the line of your jaw with sloppy kisses, each time his lips pulled back from your skin a wet noise echoed and filled the room, making you gasp.

You could feel the way his lips were modulating each word against your skin, as if using a language so intimate and so tight that it took your breath away. A language known and used just between the two of you.

With desirous eyes he looked at the dark crimson mark he'd left on your throat before raising them across your flushed face, his hands cradling your jaw, thumbs caressing your skin tenderly.

“When my uncle gave me the announcement that I was to marry you, I kicked them all out.” He continued to explain, pecking your lips a couple of times before kissing each cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, every single feature of your entire face, with the utmost care and adoration.

No one had ever looked at you the way he was looking at you right now.

Feyd rasped out a small chuckle, breath warm tickling against your nose. “And by kicking them out I mean I killed them.”

His comment didn't surprise you at all, in fact, it didn't even provoke a reaction in you. During the week you had been in his company, you had already gotten used to Feyd-Rautha's -almost cruel- honesty and sassy remarks, you were just starting to get used to his very eccentric and unique attitude. Because the na-Baron's personality was something that was most captivating to you, he was so different yet so similar to you.

“Of course.” You replied, trying to hold back that dark grin on your lips, an action that caused him to kiss you once more, his attention was on your mouth the whole time as you spoke to him in that tone of voice. “I would expect nothing less from the Feyd-Rautha and for my future husband.”

Again he rested his forehead against yours and you were the one who kissed his lips this time. It had become a reassuring habit in a span of less than five minutes for both of you.

“I can't do anything to you until we get married, my uncle would find out otherwise. I have —we have— to behave, my love.”

He seemed to read your mind this time, or maybe it was the way you were looking at him, biting your lower lip gently, eyes darkened with desire, silently begging him to just take you right there against the wall when he called like that.

Perhaps Feyd-Rautha was a hopeless romantic just like you or he simply desired you in ways that went beyond mere sex or plain lust.

“Are you afraid of him?” You softly asked him, your fingers stroking the back of his neck, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Your fingertips followed the trail of one of his veins marked on his neck, making him gasp lightly.

“Have you seen him?” Feyd responded with another question, a curved little smile on his lips, his tone of voice directed pure sarcasm. “I don't think I'm in such a position as to challenge the Baron.”

You nodded your head, fingers stroking his cheekbones now, tapping the moles that spread across his face affectionately. “He's terrifying.”

Your heart seemed to melt as you watched him close his eyes and lean against your hand, kissing the palm in action.

“Mhm...” Feyd hummed, watching you attentively, as if he was memorizing every inch of your face. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of amusement.

“Were you seriously jealous of my darlings?”

Your heart seemed to drop to your stomach and burn with your guts as you heard the nickname fall from his mouth.

“Call them that again and I'll cut your throat.” You murmured against his lips, kissing them slowly before pulling away from his body, looking up at him with dark, yet playful eyes, your hand roaming across his chest until it fell to your side as you stepped away. Then you made your way towards your bed with a very slow pace, under the attentive gaze of his azure eyes following every movement of your hips.

His heart —apparently non-existent until then— was pounding like crazy inside his chest as his lips parted, for once again you had left him speechless.

That was living proof that you were simply made for him. And he for you.

And maybe that just meant you were each other's weakness, people would say so.

But he felt just invincible in your presence, as if your company made him behold the whole universe, gave him the power of the all galaxy at hand, making him feel like the only man in existence. Your man.

Feyd-Rautha had never felt so desperate to make you his wife and finally call you his.