#like. they know ALL of his weaknesses. they know ALL of his strengths

[kasagia]

Right Hand VI

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You're tired of listening to others and of being afraid of prophecies that don't make sense and that were made up by someone else. Your present belonged only to you. And hell knows, you're going to take your future too. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I was listening to 'Down Bad' by Taylor and I used quotes from a few of them; TEXT NOT CHECKED - I' barely managed to write it on time' I've just ended it and wanted to post it for you, since you are waiting for it so long; it took me ages but I hope you will like it; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ Epilogue ~•♤♤♤•~

Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.

But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.

He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."

He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.

"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.

Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.

The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.

You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.

He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.

"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.

He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.

If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.

He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.

"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes." The cool, composed tone of your voice that you used many times when the two of you dealt with inconvenient prisoners did nothing to inspire his hope or quench his rage.

You really betrayed him. You, of all people. How stupid and naive he was to believe you. He should have killed you the moment his eyes met yours. You were an intruder. A spy in disguise. His bittersweet end.

The door slams shut behind Atreides. Feyd hears your footsteps, the sand from your soles falling back onto the ground—the same ground where his black, thick blood is now flowing. You walk over to him; if he could focus enough, he would see the toes of your shoes.

You kneel in front of him, gently tugging on his head, causing him to rest on your shoulder. He can smell your blood dripping from your hand. You stain his head with it. Under any other circumstances, he would have appreciated how close you were to him, but now, with the sword rubbing uncomfortably against his insides, your touch doesn't bring any comfort at all. Even your lips pressed against his forehead cannot calm the volcano of emotions boiling inside him. But he is helpless. He is unable to do anything; he is completely surrendered to your grace. It wouldn't bother him a few hours ago. Now he hated it.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, then use the voice on him to tell him to fall asleep. When he drifts off to sleep at your command, he is already planning how he will take revenge on you. And hell knows you're going to pay him for it.

"He'll be furious." One of your spies comments as she helps you carry Feyd's body out of the sietch.

Inessa was the only Harkonnen woman you could reasonably trust. She's done your dirty work many times, but... never THIS. You somewhat understood her concerns, but currently, when you both had to carry Feyd through the Fremen corridors and go unnoticed, you didn't necessarily approve of it.

"I am aware." You reply, looking around. Inessa and you somehow patched up Feyd's wound. Now you had to either drag him to the surface yourself and hope that someone would find him in the chaos of the fight or leave him with some of his soldiers.

You didn't like any of these ideas. But you had to do what you planned if you wanted to regain your freedom, even if it meant that Feyd would hate you for it for infinity.

"Fucking angry. I'm serious, Y/N." Inessa warns you again. You roll your eyes at her, for a Harkonnen she was very fearful.

You remember how her hands were shaking a few minutes ago as you both stitched up your new Baron. It was a makeshift dressing and still required treatment by a doctor, but it was enough to get Feyd to the ship and back to base. During this time, you will take care of everything here. You hope that by the time he wakes up, you will have finished what you set out to do. Otherwise, you don't see your future well.

"Just get him out of here." You grumble, turning into a side corridor, and encounter Harkonnen soldiers fighting the Fremen as they kill the last of them, their eyes shifting to the two of you. You nod at them. Without a word, they approach you and take Feyd from you. Inessa looks at you, worried.

"What if he wakes up?"

"You stuffed him with painkillers, and I ordered him to sleep. He won't get up until you're back on the ship." The woman sighs and shakes her head, looking at you intently as you speak.

"Y/N. You've had some… creatively stupid ideas, but this one is the worst of them all. He won't give up. You know it. So why are you doing this?" She asks, taking you off guard for a moment.

She was right. You could have returned to the ship with them, gone back to the safety of Giedi Prime, and let Feyd fight Paul alone. You could have let go and stopped participating in a war that wasn't yours. But at what cost? You've been obeying someone all your life. Bene Gesserit. Prophecies. Feyd. It's finally time for you to deal the cards. And you will do it. In your and Feyd's best interests. You just hoped that he could… forgive you, or see the reasoning behind your actions.

"For myself. For my freedom. For us. This is the only way to end the matter of Atreides, Fremen, and Arrakis. The only effective way."

"Don't you know it yet? You will never be free. We women will never enjoy men's freedom. There will always be someone to whom you must submit. You can't change your fate."

"Then I'd rather die trying." You say, turning on your heel. You don't look back to see her reaction to your words. You had too little time.

The burning sensation on your hand only reminded you of running out of it. The dagger that Feyd gave you must have also had an effect on Atreides. You don't know how advanced he is in Bene Gesserit teachings, so you had to hurry before he detected the poison in his body. Or, God forbid, neutralise it.

You wipe your sweating forehead with the sleeve of your hand as your body begins to fight the poison slowly accumulating in your body. The antidote rested safely in a small syringe hidden in the handle of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh. You just had to use it when the time was right.

You hope you will get everything done before you die.

You wander through the corridors without knowing where you are. You just have a feeling in the back of your head about where you should go. Besides, the escaping Harkonnens kind of showed you the way into the sietch.

Your hands are shaking as you slowly approach the main room—the one where the Fremen usually gather for large meetings and in case of an attack. Still, you thank Feyd for forcing you to attend the Harkonenn war meetings. At least now you are more familiar with the location of the Fremen's rooms and methods.

The closer you get to the main hall, the more Fremen women push past you, and you feel a little more confident walking through the crowd with them, confident that they are leading you to your place of harm in case of an attack. Even though the Harkonnen were already retreating from the area, some of them were still fighting the Fremen, who craved the blood on their swords and didn't let them just leave. You can only imagine the Feyd's wrath that they will have to face. His men didn't come... fully armed. Apparently it was supposed to be a quick action—get in and out with you, then launch a full attack and invasion.

You know that once he wakes up and heals up a bit, he's going to paint these halls with blood before he burns them to the ground.

Entering the main room, you immediately take a seat by the wall, watching all the Fremen gathering, carefully looking for Atreides among them. He probably had to make sure they "cleared" the halls from the Harkonnens. It makes you sick to think of them bragging about this as a victory over the Harkonnens. It makes you wish you had a little bomb with you...

"Are you already hiding in the shadows?" You shiver when you hear him whisper in your ear. You haven't learned to recognise his steps yet. They were irregular, different, and hard to detect and remember—as if he were constantly moving through the sand like a feather.

"The quicker I adapt, the better, right?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. He shakes his head in amusement and watches the Fremen gather with you. It's strange that somehow no one has noticed him yet.

"I'm starting to understand why my cousin kept you so close to him."

"Cousin?" You ask in shock, turning your head towards him so you can look at him. This time he ignores you, not shifting his gaze from the Fremen.

"A little surprise. Maybe we all have a bit of Harkonnen in us after all?" He banters without giving you any of his attention. You snort indignantly, looking at the gathering people again.

"You look tired." You comment, wanting to tease him. You can barely keep yourself from stabbing him with your poisoned dagger a few times. But since he was talking to you so... carelessly, it meant he couldn't detect the poison. Good for you.

"I always am. I will rest when I sit peacefully on the imperial throne."

You would laugh at him if you could. He might easily sit on the emperor's throne, but he wouldn't be able to hold power over all the families for long. Certainly not if you and Feyd had anything to say about it.

Your heart clenches as you remember the moment you stabbed him. You had to. There was no other way to get rid of him long enough for you to take care of everything here. Also, he wouldn't allow you to do that if he knew what you were up to. Besides, if you didn't stab him, Atreides and he would get into a fight. Unfortunately, you weren't that confident in Feyd's abilities. He would be in a state of distraction if your well-being was at stake.

Besides, Atreides' words convinced you of this decision more than anything else.

More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

If there was anything you could praise about Paul Atreides, it was his cunning. And you were sure that if Atreides was somehow going to defeat Feyd, it would be through intrigue and trickery. And then you weren't ready to save your baron. So you had to use drastic measures to get him out and allow yourself to function fully. You couldn't give Atreides any leverage or advantage over you. You certainly couldn't reveal what a weakness Feyd was to you.

"Hmm… you have to survive first." You answered thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to look at you. His intense, analysing gaze makes you burn as you have to endure his unwanted attention.

"With such a talented Bene Gesserit as MY right hand? I have not the slightest doubt. You proved your loyalty by killing my cousin. I have no doubt that you are capable of great things. However... this sudden change of sides is shocking, I must admit."

"Why? Because I chose something better for myself? It was the same with Feyd. I could either stay among the Bene Gesserit and hope they wouldn't send me to breed with anyone, or I could take matters into my own hands. And I don't like blindly entrusting my fate to someone else, Atreides."

"I see... you look good with independence, Harkonnen witch, but don't forget who you answer to."

"Of course, Fremen messiah." The nickname you give him makes me chuckle. He reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You look carefully at his bandaged hand, which you pierced with a dagger.

You find yourself comparing his hands to Feyd's. Harkonnen's hands were hard, rough, trained from years of using all kinds of weapons. Atrdida's hands were smoother, less stained by effort. Another difference between them was that Feyd would never let anyone bandage the wound you gave him. He would rather wear them proudly until the wound heals itself. You should think it's sick, but years spent by his side have taught you… to appreciate such gestures. Maybe you really had a completely different perception of normality?

Atreides' fingers trace your jaw, caressing it gently. You look into his eyes and immediately see the familiar gleam of audacity in them. He looked at you like you were a prize—a nice thing that he managed to take from his enemy, which he can now put on his bedside table and look at to remember his victory. Under any other circumstances, you would have bitten his fingers off, but unfortunately, you had to behave. But only for a moment longer.

"What do you think you're doing?" An angry, cold female voice echoes behind you. Before you know it, you're being pushed sideways against the wall. A dagger at your throat. You act automatically. You attack a woman, disarm her, and push her against a wall. But before you can put a dagger at her throat yourself, Atreides steps between you.

"What's necessary, Chani. I would suggest you not attack my guest." The woman glares at him, and for a moment, you think she's going to attack him or spit on him. Then her anger shifts to you.

"This Harkonnen witch has killed more of our people than any of them. She should be dead, not taken in as a guest." She growls furiously, giving you a distrustful, mad look. You understand her perfectly. If you were in her place, you would do the same. Only Feyd, unlike Atreides, couldn't stop you from hurting your rival.

"It's not up to you to decide her fate."

Chani gives the two of you one last hateful glare and pushes past Atreides, moving into the crowd, away from the two of you. You look at the woman carefully, analysing her gait and posture. Similar to Atreides. So you found his teacher.

"Your…"

"Concubine." He finishes, thus answering your question. You raise an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"I see."

"Jealous?" This time, you can't help but snort in amusement, giggling at his absurd question.

"I would sonner be jealous of a sandworm than of you. What is bewteen us is just an agreement. Don't forget that, Atreides."

"That's why I like you. Give me a moment. We'll talk later. Don't go anywhere. I will find you."

He puts his hand on your shoulder. You assume he thinks it's a gesture of reassurance, but it's not for you. You anxiously wait for him to move away from you so he can speak to the crowd of Fremen.

You shiver as you briefly make eye contact with Chani, who is standing at the other end of the room. She's still seething with rage. You're not entirely sure why she's so devoted to Atreides, but after thinking about it longer, you realise what her reason is for being so protective over him. You would probably do the same things for Feyd as she did for Paul. However, you would be... more ruthless towards your rival. You wave to the woman, smirking. She looks away from you, focusing her gaze on Atreides.

You study him as well, carefully observing him as he speaks to the Fremen. He is imperious and powerful, but also arrogant and conceited. His overconfidence that he acquired among the Fremen—the belief that he was the chosen one—will lead to his death. You will lead him to death. Otherwise, no one will stand a chance against him. He had one significant thing that could ensure his victory: a huge crowd of people who blindly believed that he would bring them salvation if they obediently followed his every request.

And maybe you would feel sorry for these people and try to help them if your own freedom and future weren't on the line.

You play with the handle of your dagger. You press a small button. A small ampoule with a needle falls into your hand. You hiss, injecting the contents of the ampoule into your arm.

Atreides was right. - You think, listening carefully to the man's speech to the crowd. - More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

The faint hum of the ship's engine gives Feyd a clear indication of where he is. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. He's in the bedroom of one of Harkonnen's ships. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks at his bare chest. He furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise when he sees no wound or bandage—just a tiny, sealed scar in the area where you pierced him with the sword.

"Where are you going?" Your quiet, protesting whisper makes him freeze. After a while, he feels your warm hands on his shoulders as you pull him back into the soft sheets and into your arms. You cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Stay. We still have a lot of time before we land on Lankiveil, so you can spend it in bed with your wife. I doubt we'll find a moment of peace for ourselves when our little Na-Baron demands swimming lessons from you and a tour around the new planet, so use this little moment of peace."

Feyd's heart skips a beat when he feels your lips brushing on the skin of his neck and hears you calling yourself his wife. He allows himself to drown in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your gentle touch on his skin. He buries his nose in your hair, shuddering slightly as you place small kisses on his neck and lick his skin, teasing him. However, one thing was still bothering him…

"Little Na-Baron?" He asks, confused, when you lazily stroke his head with your fingers, drawing patterns on its pale skin.

"Our son. I pleased you so well last night that you forgot about our son, or are you just not awake yet, darling?" You ask him teasingly, opening your eyes to look at him for the first time.

Feyd is speechless when he sees the spark of malice in your eyes and the beautiful smile you give him. Your beauty, the calmness with which you lie curled on his chest—as if it were the most normal thing you do every day—and the strange warmth that spreads across his chest because of it make him lose his ability to speak.

You giggle, pulling him closer to you and placing a tender, gentle kiss on his lips. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips, sucking on his bottom lip as you claim him as yours. Feyd feels himself starting to harden just from the feeling of your lips on his and the teasing movements of your fingers around his nipples.

"I…" He tries to speak, but then he hears the baby's soft whimpering. He tenses up, unaccustomed to any interaction with children.

His gaze goes from the cradle placed in the corner of the room to you in pure panic, as he has no idea what to do with the crying baby. But you don't seem to care about the baby crying as much as he does. You groan in protest and pull away from him, burying your face in the pillow.

"Mhm... go to her, it's your turn." You mumble, not giving him a glance, as you hug the pillow instead of him. He starts to be a little jealous, but that feeling fades away, replaced by panic as the baby's cries intensify.

"Now you're letting me go?" He asks, hoping you'll change your mind and take care of the crying demon in the cradle yourself.

"I simply found a better use for you elsewhere." He huffs, leaning towards you and ruffling your hair. You punch him in the chest and force him out of bed. He rolls his eyes at you and turns hesitantly towards the crib.

He feels his legs shaking and his heart beating with nervousness. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is stressed and nervous by a crying baby in a cradle. He breathes deeply as he stands over the cradle.

His world stops when his eyes meet small irises that are a similar shade of blue to his. And his heart stops when he sees a little copy of you. Your child is undoubtedly a reflection of you. She only has his eyes, but the colour of her skin and hair, the shape of her nose, mouth, and eyes are all you. Feyd's heart pounds as he stares at the small miracle before him. Suddenly, the sounds reach him again. Panicked, he takes the baby gently, making sure not to accidentally hurt her, and in a few quick steps, he is by your side again.

"I… I think it is hungry." He says, reaching out towards you to hand the baby to you as quickly as possible.

"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, did you just call our daughter it?" You ask angrily, sitting on the bed and looking at him furious. You sigh at his helpless expression and take your daughter from him. "Forgive daddy, Katerina. He doesn't usually behave like this." You mumble sweetly to the baby, trying to calm her down.

Miraculously, because Feyd can't call it anything else, you manage to calm down the baby in your embrace, her little lips pursing in dissatisfaction as she waits for you to feed her. Feyd swears she makes the exact same face you do when you're impatient or angry. His heart melts even more at the image in front of him.

Feyd sits on the edge of the bed, watching in fascination as you feed your baby. This scene seems... unreal to him. He had never experienced anything like this before—the feelings of warmth, safety, and boundless love and devotion that appear in him when he looks at the two of you.

He may have had vague memories of his mother singing bedtime lullabies to him and Rabban, but... he had never felt the way he did with you and your daughter. He had never felt that disarming feeling of home that made him allow himself to become vulnerable for the first time in many years.

He uncertainly reaches towards the child and gently strokes his daughter's head. The colour of her hair is identical to yours. Feyd's lips form involuntarily in a smile when the child reaches her little hand to his fingers, tightening his fist firmly. As she gently moves his hand away from her head, she does not let her grip on his fingers loosen. She was strong for a baby. She certainly had a warrior nature inherited from both of you. Feyd couldn't wait to train her...

He found himself thinking that all he wanted was to curl up in this bed with you and hold you safely in his arms before he would be brutally torn from this beautiful dream or vision.

He sits on the bed, looking at the two of you, when suddenly the bedroom door opens. The thud of small feet on the metal floor echoes around the room, and that's all the warning Feyd gets before the little white-haired boy lunges at him.

"Dad! Dad! We'll be there soon! I can't wait. Uncle Rabban told me that there are huge oceans that can swallow our ships if we land wrong! Is it true?" Asks the child, sitting on his lap and holding him tightly.

Feyd hesitantly wraps his arms around the boy, making sure he doesn't accidentally fall from his lap to the floor. His gaze quickly shifts to you in utter confusion. Rabban as a caring, mischievous uncle? What the hell was that supposed to be?

"Your uncle has a habit of distorting some facts, Feydor. I assure you we'll be fine. And Lankiveil is wonderful, isn't it, honey?" You ask Feyd, resting Katerina on your shoulder and making sure she burps.

"Yes. It is beautiful." He says, unconsciously running a hand through his son's hair as he looks at the three of you, unable to get over the shock and awe.

"I want a hug." Your son demands. You laugh as you pull him closer to you. When you see that Feyd isn't moving to join you all, you grab his hand and gently guide him back to the soft pillows. You lie there curled up, you with Katerina on your chest, Feydor between you and him as you wrap your arms around each other.

His son mutters something to his sister, but Feyd doesn't hear him. All he can do is stare at the three of you in amazement.

"Now sleep. Both of you. I don't want to hear any grumpy complaints about not getting enough sleep, okay, my boys?"

'It only happened once." Feydor mumbles, manoeuvring your and Feyd's hands to hug him tightly. "Besides, Dad was whining worse than me."

"I have no doubt that was the case. Your dad is a terribly fussy and grumpy man." You laugh and lean in to place a quick kiss on Feyd's lips. He strokes your waist, moving closer to you and your son as baby Katerina mumbles something in a language only she knows.

Feyd can only watch tenderly as his little family falls asleep, curled up in each other's arms. And he believes that this is the best possible future that can await him. He doesn't want the throne. He doesn't want to become emperor. He just wants to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in his arms and your children running around. It's all he dreams about.

The younger Feyd would certainly laugh at him and mock him for such a trivial goal he had set for himself, but what more could he want with the title of baron and you by his side?

He saw perfectly well how the lives of his uncle and emperor turned out and knew the tragic fate of great people in power who decided to devote their entire lives to achieving the greatest possible influence. Feyd didn't want to follow in their footsteps. He wanted you. He realised, with horror, that this was enough for him—the vision or dream he had now was his ideal future.

"I love you." He whispers to your sleeping form before the darkness overwhelms him again.

He wakes up again on the ship, in the same room, and on the same bed. The difference is that your warm body is not pressed against his, and the throbbing pain from his stomach spreads uncomfortably throughout his body.

He groans, sitting on the bed and looking around. His hairless eyebrows wrinkle when he sees one of your spies with him. He automatically grabs the hidden knife and attacks your spy before she notices that he woke up.

"My Lord Baron, I can explain…" The woman says this as he presses the blade against her chest. She stops talking when he cuts off her access to the air by tightening his grip on her neck.

"Where is my right hand?" He growls, sticking to the remains of his control when he refrains from killing her. However, he does not stop himself from making a light cut on your spy's neck. Years of experience have proved that people were more willing to talk after he took some blood from them.

"It really wasn't my idea. She decided so. She knew that you would not let her do what she was planning, so she had to somehow... get rid of you from there, my lord Baron."

"Hm... that sounds like her, but... I would like to hear more about that plan of her. Say something useful and I might even spare your life." Feyd purrs, lazily dragging the blade down her neck to her collarbone, making a small cut.

He preferred not to hurt your toy too much. He didn't know how you would react to the loss of this particular spy. She must have been someone you trusted to entrust him to her.

But that didn't mean that Feyd couldn't land his anger at you on her for leaving him behind and completely unaware of your actions.

"Long ago, the Bene Gesserit had only one reverend mother. Their order was small then, but it was developing well. A certain ritual was invented to ensure that the most powerful of them was in power. It… is about the struggle of life forces. I don't know exactly how it's done, but… lady Y/N said that they both have to die for one of them to survive. She… she knew you wouldn't let her, so she had to make you leave that rat's nest so she could get the job done." A cold shiver runs down Feyd's spine. He needs a moment to compose himself and process your spy's words before he speaks again.

"They both have to die? What do you mean?" He asks, unconsciously tightening his already painful grip on the woman. His hand, the one holding the dagger, trembles slightly as he impatiently stares at her, waiting for an answer.

"I... they have to... they... their hearts stop beating and... the one who is stronger and has more life energy takes over the other's powers and survives."

"So... she may lose and die?" Fed sees your spy swallowing heavily after hearing his question. Thanks to this, he already knows the answer to it.

Strangely, instead of the huge, red fury and bloodlust, everything he feels is fear. Since he arrived at Giedi Prime, he has never felt fear. His uncle made sure that this emotion did not prevent him from reaching the ideal that his uncle demanded from Feyd. But at this point, when the vision of your dead body appears before his eyes, Feyd feels almost paralysed by fear of your life.

"There is... a little possibilty, my lord Baron."

This information is enough for him to make a decision. He stabs your spy in the stomach and allows her to sit on a bed. He reaches the exit in a few steps and opens the door with a bang. A doctor and two soldiers are waiting in the corridor. They look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes out, covered in blood. Before they can speak and probably inform him about his state of health, Fed is already growling at them and giving orders.

"Heal her and bandage her. She was only fulfilling my fiancee's orders." Fed tells the doctor. He is pleased with the surprise he sees on your spy's face. He intends to enjoy informing everyone about his 'engagement' with you. If you could have your plans, he could have some of his too. "Tell the pilot to turn back. And call more ours. We will burn these rats' nests to the ground."

With this promise, he leaves the room, ignoring the pain in his trunk. He must have found you before Fremen left with you for another hideout. He had to be fast and precise if he wanted to have you safe by his side. Maybe he should also ask the doctor for a sedative. Just in case you were stubborn enough to fight him instead of cooperating with him.

"What do you think?" Atreides' question catches you off guard for a moment. You stop watching the Fremen as they prepare to leave the sietch and shift your gaze to Atreides, raising an eyebrow in question. "About them. About my speech there."

"Are you looking for praise?" You mock, taking a closer look at what exactly he's putting into his bundle.

"I'm looking for a second opinion. Objective. Analytical and thorough." He replies, tying the fabric as he waits for your response.

"They will do whatever you want. Isn't that enough for you?" You ask, licking your lips as you choose your words carefully. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Paul wipes them away with his hand, not yet aware of the poison that courses through his veins.

You wanted to make sure as much as you could that when the moment came to defeat him and take his life force, there would be no shadow of a doubt that you would emerge victorious from the duel between you. After he went through the Reverend Mothers ceremony, you could try to perform the old ritual of reclaiming power between you two. This hasn't been done for centuries. So you hoped that everything you remembered from the old scrolls was true and that Atreides wouldn't surprise you with anything.

Even if he was a Kwisatz Haderach, you're still going to defeat him. No one and nothing will decide your fate.

"For now, yes. But in the future, I will need their full devotion. After all, I won't be the one to rule them on Arrakis." You raise your eyebrows questioningly, curious as to what his big plan for the future might be.

"Who do you want to entrust them to?"

Silence falls between you as you both look at each other intently. You know he's judging you, wondering how much he can tell you and how much he can hide from you. And you have to be convincing enough to gain even a little bit of trust from him. You know that stabbing Feyd helped you a lot with that. No matter how much it hurt you to do it.

"To be honest, you have the best skills to serve as Governor of Arrakis. The only question is, will you be equally faithful to me?"

"Me? Why?"

"They're already afraid of you. Besides, I saw your power—you're quite a powerful Bene Gesserit. Even if you don't like being called that, you can't cheat or change your destiny, no matter what."

"But... it is not all about power and fate, though is it?" You ask, slowly approaching him. "It is... something more there. Much more than we know." You whisper, looking at him with your most captivating gaze. Feyd would have killed him and tortured you if he saw you flirting with someone else... but luckily he wasn't here. And you had to somehow lower Atreides' guard.

"Indeed." He mumbles back and takes a step towards you. His fingers gently caress your jaw, tracing it until his fingertips brush against your lips. "My mother told me legends about the birth of the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. A woman who could bring thousands to their knees with a wave of her finger, tamed the most bloodthirsty of all beasts. Stilgar... has suspicions that you may be the mother of the one, the one to come. Of course, this conflicts with his perception of me as the chosen one."

He spoke the truth. You were the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. But not because you were born according to their program. You simply had potential, and they had way too much time and no obstacles to train you differently. You were supposed to be their perfect pawn in their game, to provide them with the Kwisatz Haderach. And now… you will kill the one who was supposed to be him.

"Even so, you don't lose power. They still listen to you. More than anyone else." You say, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips. He licks them, holding your jaw tightly as he leans slightly towards you.

"I may be my father's son, but I'm not going to make the same mistakes. You know, it is much safer to be feared than loved because... love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."

"The prince Machiavelli." You say, knowing a quote from the book. You're a little surprised that he would read something like that. He also seems amazed that you know what book he took these words from.

"Indeed. Hmm... Maybe you're not that cruel and bloodthirsty Harkonnen witch people think you are. After all, you're a bit educated." Under any other circumstances, you would have kicked him in... his tender place for this. But now you have to smile sweetly, comforting yourself only with the thought that he will soon die at your hands.

"Believe me, Atreides. I am everything they talk about and more." You mumble before leaning in to connect your lips in a kiss.

Kissing him is… different from kissing Feyd. Less intense, less hot, and less passionate. With him, you don't feel that familiar thrill of excitement you feel every time Feyd literally devours you. This kiss is... too polite. There's not an ounce of desire in him, at least not on your part. You try to be persuasive, though, caressing his lips, but it's not the same plush softness of Feyd's lips. Your mind refuses to be fooled, and you realise with horror how deeply your new Baron has managed to get under your skin when you haven't been able to enjoy the kiss of any other man.

Atreides reaches for your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth. At least he was the only one having fun out of the two of you. You place your hands on his shoulders, slowly pulling your hidden dagger from your sleeve as you let the man kiss you and explore your body with his hands.

You almost sigh with relief when his lips finally leave yours. He moves to kiss your neck, and you decide that this is the moment to start the ritual.

"Stay still. Don't move or speak." You use the voice on him. He stiffens in an instant, his eyes widening slightly as the steel of your poisoned blade presses against his neck. "You were right. It's better to make them afraid of you than to love you."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him grab his hidden knife. But before he can stab you, you place your hands on his temples and recite the old formula, beginning the ritual. You feel yourself slowly starting to lose strength. You both kneel to the floor, life draining from the two of you.

It has begun. - you think as darkness takes over you.

This... is different from what you expected. Nowhere is it written what happens after the connection between the brains of the Bene Gesserit combatants is made. Or what kind of test are the two of you being put through to find out which one of you is stronger. You thought you and Atreides would stand in some imaginary arena and fight until one of you killed the other.

At least you would prefer this to the burning pain that overwhelmed you. You feel like you're immersed in pure, wild fire. All your nerves were burning. You felt your body, but at the same time, you were far from it. And all you could see and hear was blackness, screams, whispers, and songs in a language foreign to you. You feel like you've gone mad. Any pain you've felt doesn't compare to what you're going through right now.

You feel every cell in your body tear apart, and at the same time you remain in a void, unaware of anything except the feeling of pain.

But you endure it.

And suddenly, everything disappears. For a moment, you feel or hear nothing. It's just you and your consciousness as you anxiously await the turn of events.

Then various images begin to appear before your eyes—visions of the future and the past. You see every possible course of events that could occur and every single scenario that may happen. In some visions, both you and Feyd die; in others, it's just him or you; and in others, you both live to old age together. One element is constant. Only one. And you shudder every time you see the familiar figure of your future son ascending the throne as the Emperor and taking care of the entire world, restoring balance and peace.

All of Atreides' power has passed onto you. You knew everything. All possible futures. And they scared you more than you thought they would. And you feel completely different than you thought you would...

After some time and tens of thousands of visions, you return to your body. You begin to feel everything around you—the soft sheets beneath you, the softness of the pillow beneath your head, and the quiet beeping of the machines keeping you alive.

You struggle to open your eyes, hissing as the light hits your eyes. You look around, expecting to find a familiar hospital room, but instead you find yourself in Feyd's chambers. On fucking Giedi Prime.

"Welcome among the living." Feyd's hoarse voice reaches your ears. You turn your head towards him—too quickly, making you feel a little dizzy—but you open your mouth to speak anyway.

You have a terrible coughing fit, and your throat is drier than it has ever been on Arrakis. As you curl up on Feyd's bed, coughing up your lungs, you see him quickly fill a glass of water from the corner of your eye. He sits next to you, pulling you against his chest. You lean your back against him and drink the water greedily.

Feyd gently strokes your back, watching carefully as you drink the water. His gaze is watchful and attentive as he makes sure you drink the last drop from your glass.

When you finish, he takes your glass and walks over to the table to set it down. A cold shiver runs through you as you feel the absence of his presence. You remember how the last time you saw him, he was unconscious and injured. Because of you.

"I was more expecting to be chained to a wall in a prison cell. Or to have your harpies hovering over me and waiting for you to cut me up for them." You say jokingly, teasing him. But he doesn't laugh. You see him tense at your words before he slowly turns to face you.

"I had such an idea in my mind a month ago, when I found you pale as death in the arms of the equally dead Atreides. But I guess enough time has passed for me to get over it… or I just killed enough Fremen and doctors and Bene Gesserit women who couldn't bring you back to calm myself down."

"Month?" You ask, swallowing thickly as you bravely endure his stern glare.

"Mhmm… a month, two weeks and five days to be precise. This whole time, you were either losing your pulse or screaming until your throat was torn. Also, you had a fever that we barely managed to break down, and you were pronounced dead a few times, but who cares, right?" He asks casually, but you can clearly see the rage bubbling inside him despite his obvious concern for you.

"Oh… that's… a while."

"A little bit more than a while." He growls at you, playing with his dagger—the exact same one he gave you. You shudder as you see how much the blade has bent from the blood of the people you used it on.

"What about Atreides?" You ask, confused, wondering if it was really a good idea to bring this up now. Especially since he is playing with a poisoned dagger in his hands. And you used up the antidote to it (apparently) a month ago.

"I have his head. Do you want it on a silver platter, or should I just frame his tongue and hang it on the wall? Maybe right next to yours for being a liar and a traitor?" He asks furiously. But that's not what scares you the most. He's calm. Too calm and composed. And this was often how his anger manifested itself before he killed his victims.

"I... you know perfectly well that I had to do it. If I had done it differently, his... skills would have been lost. And I... now I see everything. I can prevent everything, I can make everything fine. Isn't that a big advantage for you? Have an oracle next to you?" You ask, slightly nervous about what he's going to do next.

"Depends on what this oracle wants to show me and what it doesn't want to show me. But since you know everything and the entire future, you probably know what I will do now." He says and heads towards the exit.

Your heart clenches, and you feel an inexplicable panic as you see him walk away from you. You can't stand how cold he was towards you. You have to do something. You can't just let him go.

"Feyd." You call after him and get out of bed to follow him. When you're on your legs, you lose your balance, and you would have fallen to the floor if Feyd hadn't caught you in his arms.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as you breathe quickly. You look at each other for a moment, allowing yourself to immerse yourself in the closeness of the other one.

Feyd places his hand under your knees and picks you up in bridal style. He puts you on his bed again and pulls away to leave. You grab his elbow tightly and hold on, forcing him to stay by your side as you give him a desperate, pleading look for him not to leave you.

Feyd sighs, sitting next to you on the bed. He leans towards you and rests his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against yours. And you feel really calm for the first time in years.

"You have no idea... I have killed men for smaller things than that. The only reason you're still alive... is because I prefer to destroy you myself. Without the help of any sick rituals or poison. You'll be begging me to kill you, little witch. I'll make you go through the same damn pain you put me through. You'll be begging me to stop making you scream. Oh, and I'll make you scream much louder than becasue of this stupid ancient ritual."

You know he's mad at you. And he has every right to do so. But you can't take his words seriously. Not when you have irrefutable proof of the depth of his feelings for you. As he said, he killed for less. If he wanted to, he would have gotten rid of you or hurt you by now. But he didn't.

"I'll happily scream because of you, my Baron." You reply, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs, trying to memorise every little bit of his skin.

"I… I'm serious." He growls at you. He places his hand on your neck and squeezes it gently. You smile and press a kiss just near the corner of his mouth.

"Me too. Do it. Show me how loud you want me to scream for you." You challenge him, placing small kisses on his face.

"Y/N... I should have killed you ages ago, woman. You poisoned my mind, you stabbed me with a sword, you left me alone to deal with the mess you made, you forced me to worry about you while you slowly died in front of me day by day, and I couldn't do any-fucking-thing. So tell me, how can I get past this? Why is it that all I want to do is fuck you until I feel like you're really alive and around me?"

You bite your lip, trying not to moan at his words. You lick your lips and lean towards him, kissing him. He moans into your mouth and tries to pull away from you, but you grab his neck and pull him towards you. Your heart speeds up as your lips caress his as you give all of yourself to him in that kiss.

You gently massage his scalp and lie down on the pillows. You pull him with you as he starts to kiss you back. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pulls away from you with a growl and presses his forehead against yours, trying to calm down for your sake. After all, you had just woken up... too bad his cock wasn't as sympathetic to you as you rubbed against him.

"I… my mother was a Harkonnen, you know? Maybe that's why I was so drawn to you. Like calls to like or something like that." You gasp, remembering the memory you saw. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise. A shiver runs across his skin, realising the power you've taken from Atreides.

"What else do you know?" He asks, caressing your cheek. You turn your head and press a kiss on the palm of his hand. You surprise him even more, but he's not going to protest when you show him affection. This was very rare in his life, and the fact that this small, voluntary gesture of adoration was coming from you made him even harder.

"That I don't want to lose you for some visions that may or may not happen. That you love me and that these months have been torture for you. That you hated me as much as you needed me to come back to you. That I… only want to think about us. I only care about our future, and I'm willing to watch this world burn if it means I can hold your hand until the end. with no fear that fate will make us hate each other. That I want you to be the only prophecy I care about."

"What about your escape from fate? You never wanted… to be part of this Kwisatz Haderach thing. Will you run away from me when you see that the path we are following leads inevitably to what you were so afraid of?"

His doubts are absolutely right. But that doesn't change the fact that you need him close to you right now. That you need his reassurance that everything will be fine, not his resentment. And you know it was wrong of you to demand from him things like that, but... nothing about your relationship was healthy anyway.

"Fuck it if I can't have us. Fuck it if I can't have you." You say and pull him in for another kiss. He moans in shock into your mouth but quickly responds to you with equal passion. You gasp as he grabs your waist tightly and lifts you up, making you sit on his lap.

"You said you love me." He gasps as he slowly removes your nightgown that he dressed you in himself.

"I did... I also stab you." You say as your hands reach up to start undressing him as well.

"You did. And you killed Atreides." He purrs against your jaw, placing kisses and hickeys there.

"I did." You groan, your hands shaking as you try to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.

"You handed me over to our people."

"I did. You are quite heavy." You giggle as he blows on your neck, tickling you, before sinking his teeth into it. You dig your fingers into his back, pulling him close to you.

"Why did you do this?" He asks, pulling away from you to look at you carefully, gauging your reaction, making sure you were always on his side, and doing everything for your mutual good. For his good.

"Because I decide about my fate. Not Bene Gesserit, not any Atreides, not you or anyone. Only me. And I want you. And love you. And need you. But only as my equal... and if you will have me."

"I won't let you go anymore." He warns, laying you down on the bed and towering over you.

"I will never want to leave." You promise, looking into his icy blue eyes and stroking the scar on his lower stomach—from the wound you gave him.

"Good."

"Good."

"Say it again."

"Good?" You ask teasingly, pressing kisses to his neck and giving him a few hickeys, marking him as yours with more than just his scars.

"No. You know what."

"I love you."

"About damn time." He growls, devouring your mouth. You moan as he bites into your lower lip. You both don't hold back anymore. Feyd marks you like a map, as if he wanted to memorise all the sensitive places that made you moan and writhe in pleasure, pressing into his muscled body.

You forget for a moment the whole world, everything you've done for him, everything you both should have discussed—all you can think about is Feyd. About wanting to be closer to him, about needing him as desperately as he needs you. So how can Feyd resist you when you're so willing to take him in? When he had dreamed of this moment for years? When can he finally satisfy his desire for your body?

He trails his kisses lower, gently taking your nipple into his mouth and cupping your other breast, massaging it. You moan, scratching his scalp, throwing your head back against the pillows, and grinding your hips against his.

You're both starting to get annoyed by the underwear that's preventing you from clinging to each other the way you want. Feyd rips your panties off of you, wasting no time in pushing his fingers into you. You whine, thrashing around on the bed, wanting more and yet too sensitive for anything else. You open your eyes and gasp at the sight of his full, erect length rubbing against your thigh. Feyd pinches your nipple, making you moan and shifting your gaze to him.

"Eyes on me, little witch."

"But... ach!" You moan as his fingers speed up inside you, tears forming in your eyes as your hips move in time with the rhythm of his fingers as you chase your orgasm.

"Listen to your Baron. Eyes on me." He pauses to slap your pussy. You moan, biting your lower lip. "And don't hold back any sounds. Or I'll punish you like I should have since you woke up."

It's very hard to keep your eyes open for him. Especially when his fingers massage your clit so perfectly and fill you up. You reach your hand to his hard cock on your thigh and rub it gently.

He growls, kissing you hard and punishingly, as you try to speed things up and make him lunge at you in a frenzy of lust, when he wants to tease your pussy and punish you accordingly first.

For a month he waited by your bedside, bravely holding you through the stages of your screams and high fevers, making sure you were alive, breathing, and your heart was beating in a rhythm he had memorized. He deserves to have some fun with you...

"Feyd... please..." Your moans, the kisses you place on his jaw, and the way your fingers caress the scar on his muscled stomach—the one you gave him yourself—make him lose his restraint, which was already frail and weak. At least that's how he explains his desire to immediately fulfill your wish.

His arms wrap around you tightly as he gently pushes into you, making sure his entire alabaster length will fit inside you. He stops, cursing in his tongue and resting his forehead against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Finally. He finally feels you all around him. And you're tighter than he dreamed.

"Damn… you little witch…"

"I know..." You gasp, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him hungrily, basking in the feeling of fullness as his length perfectly fills the void inside you. It's warm. It's nice to feel him so close to you. It's nice to be with him. You moan as he starts to move slowly, testing how far he can go.

Feyd growls, picking up his pace when you don't protest, his hips bucking wildly against yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.

He grips one of your hips and cups your cheek with the other, making sure your eyes are focused on him. He kisses away the tears streaming down your cheek, licking them off your face. He kisses you fervently and hungrily, catching every moan and grunt you make as his hips grind against yours. A wet sound echoes through the room, occasionally interrupted by a moan from either of you as you finally come together in the most primal, animalistic way, demanding each other.

"Mine. Only mine." Feyd growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful Baroness. Fuck. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around his chambers.

"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. I will never let you escape again, I will never again let you out of my sight for more than a second, I will never again let you fight against the world and fate alone. We are the two sides of the same coin... WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.

You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss.

And for that moment you knew what cosmic love really meant. And you would fight with anyone to be able to experience it whenever you wanted.

"I love you." Feyd whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple and tightening his grip around you.

He slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you, still holding you in the iron grip of his arms. You lazily snuggle into him and trace the scar you gave him with the fingertip of your finger. Guilt grows within you, and for a moment, you think that he purposely allowed this scar to remind you of what you did.

You decide to talk to him about everything tomorrow. It was just the two of you for now, and you were going to enjoy this as long as you could. You place your head into the crook of his neck and take his hand in yours. You tangle his other hand in your hair and snuggle into him, sighing as you feel his touch, warmth, and scent around you.

You both fall asleep cuddled together. And for a moment, you allow yourself to be in bliss of his touch and closeness, not worrying about any politics or issues that you should discuss instead of... giving in to something you have wanted for a long time.

From now on, you decide your fate.

Only you and Feyd.

That's why you make sure that your first child will be a daughter.

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.

Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie

„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”

“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”

“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”

Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.

“I bet she slept her way up.”

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?

“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”

“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”

“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.

They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?

“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.

“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.

“Most of them are trash. That one though…”

Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.

“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”

“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.

“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.

A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.

“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”

“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.

Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.

“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”

You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.

“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”

“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.

Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.

“What the hell is going on over there?”

You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.

Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.

“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.

You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.

“You have no i-“

An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?

“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”

When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.

“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”

Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.

And his dreadful orbs are set on you.

You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.

But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.

“So, this was you?”, he questions.

There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.

Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.

It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.

No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.

“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?

“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-

“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.

You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?

“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“

“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”

 “What?”, you blurt out.

And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…

You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.

“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.

“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.

Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.

“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”

The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.

-one week later-

“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.

Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.

“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.

It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.

“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.

“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”

“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.

“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”

“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”

“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”

Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…

Right?

He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen

[akkszqii]

some of my katsuki bakugo hc rants <3

(be mindful i haven’t kept up with the manga)

warnings: fem!reader, 18+

first, i don’t think he would like a weak partner, you would need to have SOMETHING you’re good at. like… did u see the way he treats people, he needs to see and recognize ur strength, otherwise you’re falling into the extras category immediately. and to add onto this, if u don’t have a strong quirk i just don’t think he would be interested at all, c’mon he wants to be number one!!!!! are u helping him or not!!!! u will not spark his interest if not.

he likes you to adress him by his name, no petnames, no love, no tsuki, nothing, call him katsuki, it feels so personal and raw, that’s what he likes and gets all his attention on you<3

this guy will not be a good boyfriend at first i’m sorry lol, it’s going to take some time and patience for him to learn to love properly, i think your relationship would go through some break ups or time outs, but one thing about katsuki he doesn’t mess around and he KNOWS what he wants! so no, that doesn’t mean he will stand there and see guys flitting with you. yes you broke up with him two weeks ago, no that doesn’t mean you really broke up, like you’re still his, get it together.

kinda continuing the last idea, i think having a really longterm girlfriend suits him. meeting as kids and then never letting go of you type of thing. why? this man was devoted to hating midoriya for years, what makes you think he would easily let go a girl that gets him all weird and stupid, you both will grow and learn together (so cute). also, it’s really hard for him to let people in, once he does it means he really really appreciates you and wants you to be in his life.

he’s obsessed with getting his dick sucked. don’t get it wrong, he also loves putting it all the way inside you, but watching you suck his dick while you look up at him with your pretty eyes hits different!!! and he’ll be trying to get his dick wet at any moment (be prepared). having a study session? your breaks will be used to suck his dick. cooking? you’ll be on your knees while that pie’s getting baked. he’s tired? just suck it and he’s going to be at 100% again. you get the idea<3

contrary to popular belief… i don’t think he would try to hide his relationship with you. because katsuki doesn’t care about social norms at all. just think about it, he’s rude, loud, scary, so why would he care about people knowing he has the cutest girlfriend ever? he’s more of a show off about it. if anybody thinks it’s weird he’s making fun of them lol. “you’re the only stupid loser out there who’s never been loved by a girl who’s not their mom, that’s why u think is weird” (he’s probably saying that to kaminari).

(this got kinda long so i’m leaving it here:p)

[welcomedepression]

Cw: 18+ only! Smut content.

Domination:

Konig kicks the door down, sending the door crashing into the wall. He glares at you. "I don't think you were raised correctly, so I'm here to correct you."

I jumped slightly as he towered over me, I backed up unintentionally, falling on my bed, the softness of the bed molded against my back as i looked up at him. "wha- are you doing?"

Konig steps towards you, his feet shaking the floor with each step, his eyes are like a lion looking down at its prey, his voice is a low growl "What is a little girl like you going to do about me?"

I swallow hard, my face is red, and my body is trembling, but I still try to maintain my toughness. "I'll..uhh......I'll......I'll tell someone."

Konig gets on top of you, his weight on top of you holding you down. "And what would they do? It's not like they could stop me anyway."

I tried to push him off me, but his weight was no match for me, I was at his mercy, body, and soul. "What are you going to do to me?"

Konig grabs your hands and pins them above your head. "I think it's obvious what I'm going to do."

"You wouldn't do anything to me. You're a big softie." I looked away, thinking of a way out.

pinning your writs with one hand, his other hand gripping your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. "I've dominated woman just like you. You're nothing special."

I curse under my breath, I look at him with anger in my eyes, I can't admit how good his body felt on mine. "You won't do anything!"

Konig's grip tightens. It feels like he could snap your neck if he wanted to. He leans down so his face is right in front of yours. "Are you sure about that, Liebling?"

"You're all talk, bet you have to ask your cock permission just to touch it." I smirked, Taunting him.

his hand rips my shirt with such power, that he could hear me gasp, he liked he made me feel fear, all that defiance was a front, he knew I wanted him, Konig moved his face to my neck, I could feel his hot breath against my skin.

I whimper, trying not to show how much I was enjoying this.

Konig's lips trail up her neck, his hand lifts the back of her neck, pulling her closer, his lips leave a trail of kisses, but there's an edge of a bite, he whispers to her "Don't pretend you don't want this."

My eyes fluttered a little, the mixture of fear and pleasure mixed on my face, his lips were soft like cotton, but his actions weren't gentle.

Konig's lips move to her ear, and his voice is a low growl. You're afraid, but you don't really want me to stop, do you?"

I shook my head no, I didn't want him to stop. I wanted him,  every inch of him in me, on me, his arms, his lips, his body. I wanted to be one with him.

Konig's lips leave her ear, and he smiles at her. He sits up on top of her, looking down at her body. "Do you know why I do this?"

"I haven't been listening to you?" I really didn't know what he meant.

Konig brings his face close to her, his breath is hot on her neck, his hand slips from her chin to her cheek "I like doing this, I like seeing a strong woman be so weak and vulnerable for me."

"You're so terrible!" I push him away, but he doesn't budge. He's pure muscle and strength.

He whispers again, "I want you to admit it. Tell me that you want me to keep going."

"why- why should I enjoy it from a tyrant?" I look away, The blush on my face betrays me.

Konig lifts her chin, so she's looking at him. His voice is a low whisper "because you have a weakness for men like me. You crave dominance and a man with power. Just admit it."

his hand slips under my black laced bra, squeezing my breasts, rolling my nipples between his calloused fingers, I moan slightly, biting my bottom lip, my head tilts back as he kisses my neck again, my hands holding onto his broad shoulders.

Konig smirks at you. "See, what did I tell you, Liebling, eine unterwürfige Muschi ist die beste Art von Muschi." (A submissive pussy, is the best type of pussy) He chuckled.

he lifts my shirt over my head, leaving me in just my bra. He smirks "yes you are, you know exactly how to manipulate me." I say, my voice cracking

Konig's smirk grows as he sees my body, and his eyes flicker with amusement. "I know what you want. You're so easy to manipulate, and your body is telling me everything I need to know."

he removes her pants, leaving her in her bra and underwear. I looked down in shame. He had me where he wanted me, in his little game.

Konig stares at me for a moment before grabbing my chin again. "Do you think this is wrong?" I looked into his eyes and shook my head

Konig leans forward and kisses me. His lips are gentle but firm, his hand slides down my body, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I bite my lip, knowing where this will go. As I kissed him back, his lips were heaven.

his fingers travel to my pussy as he gently rubs it through the lacy fabric. "Konig ah."

Koning chuckles as he hears me, and he whispers into my ear. "That's right, I'm the one in charge."

he takes the lacy underwear off, sliding it down my soft legs. I shiver at the feeling of being exposed just for him.

Konig's tongue glides between my wet folds, licking every inch of my tasty skin, before suckling down on my aching clit, his middle finger sliding in and out of me slowly, my moans are so beautiful, my hand grips his hair as he suckles on the bud harder, just to hear me scream. I gasp, my back arching off the bed, my fingers digging into his shoulders.

Konig pulls away for a moment to see my reaction, my face is flushed red, I'm panting heavily, I look down at with pleading eyes for him to continue.

Konig smirks and goes back down, his lips and tongue work at a fast pace, his fingers are working at a rhythm, i can't believe it, he's so good at this.

My breathing is quick and heavy, my body moving with every movement he makes, bucking my hips down onto his face.

he continues to move his tongue at a fast pace, his fingers keep their rhythm, my moans are so loud, he's not sure anyone can hear me, but I can't even think about that right now.

I bit my lip, my body shivers as Konig continues to move his tongue, I'm shivering with pleasure, I've never felt anything like this before, he keeps moving his tongue and fingers at the same pace, he's making me feel so good, my legs are shaking, I feel like I'm gonna explode. I climax on his face, I'm left a sobbing mess as I come, I'm panting hard, my eyes closed as I try to catch my breath.

Konig pulls away, pulling his shirt off to wipe my juices off his face, unzipping his pants before releasing his massive cock, he looks down at me, I'm in a state of euphoria after my release, I'm panting, Konig slaps the tip of his cock on my pussy, jolting me back to my senses and my eyes widen, with a smirk, he rubs his  cock all over my creamy pussy, smacking it on my sensitive clit before sliding inside her velvety tight walls.

my hands instinctively find his back, gripping tightly as he pounds his 12 inch cock into me. It was gentle at first, but every so often, he'd slam inside me with hunger. "Ah Konig, more."

he grabs my arms and pins them down, his pace quickens and his breathing becomes heavy, his grip on me is tight, he's not holding anything back, he's getting what he wants, I'm his, he's the one who gets to decide what happens.

I wrap my legs over his waist, as he pounds into me, my eyes watered by his length, and girth, it was the biggest I've ever taken, he kept repeating, "meine Frau, ganz mein" (My wife, all mine) in my ear.

his pace becomes faster, his breathing grows heavier, his grip on me tightens even more, he starts to mutter things in German that i can't understand, but I can tell that he's very pleased, he keeps repeating "meine Frau, ganz mein" as he pounds into her, it's such a beautiful sight to see.

I claw at his back with my nails, my legs tighten around him, our moans filling the room as he speeds up his pace, I feel like I'm in heaven.

he groans out her name as he reaches his peak, his grip on me tightens even more, his body shudders with pleasure, my nails are digging deep into his back, but he doesn't mind at all, he's enjoying this, he's enjoying her grip on him, he's enjoying her body, he's enjoying everything about her.

"Come for me, liebling, show me how much you enjoy my cock inside you." He increases his pace, as I'm on my knees, my stomach pressed against the bed, my hands clutching the sheets tightly.

The sound of skin clapping against each other is loud, my little squeals, and moans, as his relentless assault on my little hole, gripping my hips so tightly, his hand slapping my ass occasionally to assert his dominance.

he's balls deep,  stretching my cunt from behind, his balls hitting my clit sends my mind into a frenzy, as I'm nearing a second release.

"Konig, I'm coming, I'm- Ah!" My second release was well deserved, tears spilling from my eyes once more.

Konig's grip on my hips intensified, they started turning purple by his iron grip, his thrusts increased, he grunted even more, he was close, I could tell by the way he started fucking me senseless.

"Liebling, I'm coming ah! Fuck!" With a finial thrusts, I feel his hot seed filling my hole to the brim.

Laying in each other's arms, Konig pulls me closer. "du bist mein und nur mein, meine Frau." (You're mine, and mine alone, my wife)

I nod my head and chuckled. "Are you calling me your wife?" He nods, burying his face in my neck.

"I'll be your wife." I smile and hold him close.

-THE END!

[alex51324]

So, the NDA signed by producers of The Apprentice just expired, and one of them has published a tell-all article. Most of the article is about how they used standard reality-TV tricks to portray Trump as being wealthy and intelligent, when in reality he was, and is, a deeply indebted buffoon.

The money shot, however, comes when Trump and the producers are preparing for climax of the final episode, when the winner will be decided.

Per the FCC's rules for game shows, producers could not be involved in deciding who would be fired each week, or who would ultimately win: it had to be Trump's decision alone, like contestants and viewers were told it was. The producers could, and did, give him a presentation about the strengths and weaknesses of the contestants each time he had to make a decision. These were recorded, in case questions ever arose about whether the producers had crossed the line.

So, for the final episode, there were two contestants remaining. Both were men, one white, the other Black. They'd both done well in the final challenge of the competition. As the producers were summarizing the points for an against each candidate, this happened:

“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?” Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson.

In the finished program, Trump chose the white contestant as the winner.

(Four years later, Trump would propagate the baseless conspiracy theory that Barack Obama was not a native-born US citizen and therefore had not legitimately won the presidency.)

The article also describes how women working on the production faced discrimination based on whether or not Trump wanted to look at them while they did their jobs:

While leering at a female camera assistant or assessing the physical attributes of a female contestant for whoever is listening, he orders a female camera operator off an elevator on which she is about to film him. “She’s too heavy,” I hear him say. Another female camera operator, who happens to have blond hair and blue eyes, draws from Trump comparisons to his own Ivanka Trump. “There’s a beautiful woman behind that camera,” he says toward a line of 10 different operators set up in the foyer of Trump Tower one day. “That’s all I want to look at.”

And there's a third anecdote where he pressures a woman producer to break the FCC rules, while being casually misogynistic toward a contestant:

Trump corners a female producer and asks her whom he should fire. She demurs, saying something about how one of the contestants blamed another for their team losing. Trump then raises his hands, cupping them to his chest: “You mean the one with the …?” He doesn’t know the contestant’s name. Trump eventually fires her.

This information is pretty unlikely to persuade anyone who wasn't already persuaded by any of the other things Trump has done and said, which would for anyone else be a career-defining scandal. But it is a useful reminder of who we're dealing with.

(Link is to Slate, an x-number-of-free-articles-a-month site, but the incognito window trick works.)

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The main thing that I have found so frustrating regarding the BRF’s handling of H and M is they always seem to be on their back foot. Seriously, they have courtiers, RPO, M-15 and other people working for them and they didn’t know she was working on a Vogue cover, Gayle King interview at baby’s birth, merching like crazy and the faux royal tour to Nigeria? It makes the RF look weak - especially when Charles puts out his pity PR.

It’s Charles that looks weak on this. The BRF, especially KP and William, look pretty strong by comparison.

Hear me out.

From all the reporting, the BRF at-large was aware of what Meghan was doing. They just couldn’t stop it preemptively (that’s the power of her race card and a spoiled twat for a husband) and had to wait for it to play out publicly first so they could respond publicly with protocols.

They asked her repeatedly about the September Vogue, suggesting they heard something, but Meghan kept lying about it.

They knew she was merching because they sent cease-and-desists and pulled ads down. The palace and their aides know PR. They may not know Hollywood/American PR, but they know the game generally well enough that someone knew what she was doing with the merch. (And don’t forget that Sophie was a PR exec when she married Edward so she knew things as well.)

They knew she was talking to Oprah and Gayle because they asked Meghan point-blank about it once (surprise, she lied) and they refused to let her dial into Sandringham Summit over fears that she’d record it without their knowledge.

They were probably aware she was cooking something up for Archie’s birth. Did they know the true extent? Probably not, but they knew something was up, hence the disorganized media briefings on May 6, 2019 - per Bower, the Sussexes didn’t plan to say or do anything about Archie’s birth until Gayle King had arrived. Reading between the lines in both Bower and Spare, it sounds like the palace caught wind of something and made the usual announcements to take the steam out of the Americans breaking the news about Archie’s birth.

I suspect that William and Kate saw this writing on the wall, and that’s why they worked so hard to get the Sussexes out of the Royal Foundation and out of Kensington Palace as quickly as they did. They were fully aware of Meghan’s “I do what I want and you can’t stop me” attitude from the engagement and knew they had to act quickly to protect not just their future authority but their current reputations. And it appears to have worked: all the blowback for what the Sussexes did landed on Clarence House and now Charles looks extraordinarily weak because he’s always reacting (vs KP, who shows strength through control).

[blakeswritingimagines]

Their First Thought About You

Aegon: Your personality is just as enchanting as your appearance - you are both kind and intelligent, always eager to learn and experience new things. Your courage and loyalty are unmatched, as well as your passion for helping those in need. Your strength and resilience would have made even the greatest warriors envious. In you, he finds a true partner – someone who balances his strengths and weaknesses with your own, someone who understands him in a way no one else ever could.

Aemond: Your skin is soft like silk but strong like Valyrian steel, and your every move is as elegant as the dances of a dragon. Whenever you speak, he could listen to your tales for all time, even the most poetic songs of Westeros could not measure up to your voice. He would lay his head on the softest of pillows if it meant he could spend just one single night with you.

Jacaerys: Like an intricate painting crafted by the gods themselves, every inch of you is perfect. Even the Gods would be envious of your divine beauty, and the stars in the night sky wish to dance upon your skin. Her gentle voice makes even the Seven Kingdoms fall silent in awe.

Lucerys: His first thought on you, is that you are a great beauty and a pleasure to be around. He admires your strength and grace, and he loves the way you look at him, with your beautiful eyes.

Rhaenyra: She loves your eyes that shine like gemstones in the sunlight. Your smile could light up even the darkest room, and your laugh is the most beautiful sound she has ever heard. She loves that you're intelligent and witty, with a sharp mind and a quick tongue. You are not just a pretty face, but a powerful force to be reckoned with. She is honored to know you and she would do anything to make you smile.

Daemon: He adores the way you turn away shyly when you share a glance, and your fierce competitiveness when sparring… he could go on and on for days about you. Your conversations are like music to his ears, he hangs on to every word you utter, every story you share- even though you're the most beautiful person in, possibly, the entire world.

Alicent: When you smiled at her, it was like time stood still and all she could see was you. Your eyes sparkled like the ocean on a sunny day, and your hair glowed like the moon on a cloudless night. Your voice was like a soothing melody, and your laugh was the most melodious sound she had ever heard. In your presence, she felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

Helena: Every moment she spends with you is a moment she will forever cherish. When you laugh, your joy is music to her ears. When you're upset, she wants to hold you tightly and whisper sweet words. You're intelligent beyond measure, and could easily rule over the Seven Kingdoms if you desired. She would go insane if you weren't there because you are her other half.

Harwin: That you have the most captivating eyes he's ever seen, they reflect the stars of the night sky. You have a fierce and strong demeanor, but a kind soul. He can't take his eyes off you whenever he stares at you, your beauty hypnotizes him. You're the first person he thinks of when he wakes up, and the last one he thinks of at night. You're everything he's ever hoped for and desired.

Cregan: When you speak, your voice is like a symphony of the purest silk and your scent is like an intoxicating fragrance that leaves him in a trance. Your every move is like a dance, and each breath you take is a melody that whispers secrets of the universe. Your every glance is like a bolt of lightning, setting his soul ablaze with an undying fire.

Criston: You had long captivated him from the very first time you'd spoken. With your flowing wave of soft hair and tantalizing eyes, he found himself utterly entranced by your beauty and charm. He often found himself lost in thought, wondering what secrets lie beneath your captivating facade.

[we-are-maladaptive]

PEONIES (1/3)

Kento Nanami, a disciplined jujutsu sorcerer, finds himself drawn to a young woman tending to her garden. After a one-night stand, the woman, given an unexpected pregnancy, distances herself from Nanami, fearing the repercussions that could come with shattering his reputation. However, as Nanami's business thrives, he seeks to reconnect with her.

— characters. kento nanami, reader

— contents. suggestive themes, angst, pining, tension, slow burn, blah blah blah

— word count. 1.4k — authors note. GRRRRRRRRHANGFHOSHG SBFHAHBNFHANFHANNNNNNNNNNG HFIEJNDJAONENAAA the writing in this seems to formal gnrhened

As Kento Nanami strolled through the quiet neighborhood on his day off, he noticed a woman kneeling in her garden, her hands gently tending to the peonies that dotted the grass. Intrigued by her quietness and the care she placed upon her flowers, Nanami found himself drawn to her side.

"Excuse me," he began, his voice breaking the silence of the garden. "I couldn't help but notice your beautiful flowers. They seem to thrive under your care."

The lady stopped, a faint blush on her cheeks as she peered up at him. "Thank you," she smiled. "I find peace in them."

Intrigued by her response, Nanami found himself drawn into conversation with the her, their words flowing smoothly as they discussed the ways of gardening and the joys it brought. As they spoke, Nanami couldn't help but admire the passion and dedication she poured into her craft, her love for her garden shining brightly in her eyes.

As the afternoon sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden, Nanami realized that he had found something truly special in the girl kneeling before him. And as they continued to talk, he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, amidst the petals and the sunlight, he had found something worth cherishing—a connection that bloomed as brightly as the flowers in her garden.

The morning filtered through the cracks in the blinds, casting soft patterns on the sheets that were tangled around you. As you slowly came to, the events of the previous night began to flood back. Your heart fluttered, and a wave of anxiety washed over you. Kento Nanami, the ever-disciplined jujutsu sorcerer, lay beside you, his breathing even and calm. You silently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and quickly dressed.

Standing at the window, you glanced back at him, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You had always admired him from afar, his steadfast dedication and quiet strength, and last night, under the influence of a few too many drinks, you had shared more than just conversation. But now, the consequences of your actions weighed heavily.

It was two weeks later when dread began to take hold of you. Nausea and fatigue became constant, and as time went by, you couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. The words staring back at you through the plastic test etched into your skin. Panic surged through you, trembling hands dropped the reminder of your downfall to the ground. Nanami’s career was soaring; he didn’t need the burden of an unexpected child...a bastard, as your thoughts called it.

You would deal with this alone, no matter how scared you felt.

His snow-white hair and cocky grin were unmistakable, even from a distance. He sauntered over, even blindfoled, his eyes somehow managed to look amused.

“Hey there,” he greeted, his tone playful. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Everything alright?”

You forced a smile, trying to steady your hands. “I’m fine, Gojo. Just a bit tired.”

His grin widened, but his tone turned slightly more serious. “You know, you’re a terrible liar. If something’s bothering you, you can always talk to me. Or Nanami, for that matter.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Kento’s name. You shook your head quickly. “It’s nothing. Really.”

Gojo’s expression softened, and he leaned in closer. “Just remember, you’re not alone here. We’re all friends, okay?”

You nodded, offering a weak smile, and hurried away before he could probe further. As you walked through the streets, your thoughts were consumed by the secret growing inside you. You knew Gojo meant well, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out, especially Kento. Worst of all, if Gojo was going to hound you about it today, Geto would surely follow, as they don't stray very far from one another.

As you walked into the jujutsu headquarters, you saw a familliar black haired man lounging against the wall, his dark eyes studying you intently. His condescending smirk sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re looking a bit pale,” Geto remarked, his voice smooth and mocking. “Are you sure you’re up for the job today?”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. “I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”

He chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “You know, you’re not very convincing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re hiding something.”

Panic rose in your chest, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”

Geto’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push further. “Well, take care of yourself. We wouldn’t want anything… unexpected happening.”

As he walked away, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You had to be more careful. The last thing you needed was someone like Geto sniffing around your business.

It was hard, in the office. They always talked about him, and his achivements. It was clear that Kento Nanami was destined for greatness now that the buisness he's in is flourishing beyond expectations; Kento being the focus mainly because of his great contribution to the company. If not for his focus the past couple of years, the place wouldn't be even close the to state it's in now.

Later that evening, you found yourself back in your apartment, staring out the window at the bustling city below. You found solace in the quiet moments alone, staring at the picture in your hand. Tears blurred your vision as you traced the outline of the tiny life inside you.

You were scared, but a part of you was also filled with determination. You would protect this child with everything you had, even if it meant doing it alone. The weight of your secret felt heavier with each passing day. For the future you promise to protect, even if it meant keeping the father in the dark.

For now, that was the only way forward.

Her gentle personality and the way she tended to her flowers with such care stood in his mind, a reminder of the peace he had found with her near him. It was the reason he invited her to his home and offered a few drinks. It was the reason he lost himself inside her, too distracted with the feeling of her nails clawing against his back to think about the consequences that would come after. He would certainly do it again, though he believed it best to take her somewhere nice first. Money certainly wasn't a problem given his state in the company now. With his jujutsu sorcery business thriving, Kento Nanami found himself in a position of financial stability. As word of his expertise spread, clients flocked to seek his guidance, eager to see the power of his skill. With each consultation, Nanami's bank account saw much higher numbers, giving him time to see the finer things in life. From expensive dinners at upscale restaurants to his weekends feeling less and less wasted at home, Nanami embraced his wealth with a sense of satisfaction, grateful for the opportunities it allowed him. Though, it's quite lonely.

Determined to learn more about the gardener, Nanami made his way back to her home, hoping to strike up a conversation. But as he approached, he noticed a subtle change—a tension in the air that hadn't been there before.

"Excuse me," he called out, his voice cutting through the silence of the garden. "I hope I'm not intruding."

The young woman looked up, her expression mirroring a mixture of surprise and apprehension as she met Nanami's gaze. "Oh, it's you," she replied, her tone guarded.

Nanami furrowed his brow, sensing the shift in her demeanor. "I couldn't help but notice that you've been avoiding me," he said. "Is everything alright?"

The young woman hesitated, her fingers fidgeting nervously as she searched for the right words. "I- am fine, Kento." she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

But Nanami could see through the facade, the tension that coiled beneath the surface. "You left so suddenly that morning," he continued, his tone soft but probing. "I couldn't help but wonder if I had done something to upset you."

A flush of color rose to the her cheeks, and she cast her gaze downward, unable to meet his eyes. "No, it's not that," she replied hesitantly. "I just... I thought it would be best if we kept our distance."

Nanami's brow furrowed in confusion, but he respected her wishes, nodding in understanding. "I see," he said quietly. "But if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. And if you're ever ready to share your thoughts, I'll be waiting."

With those words, Nanami turned to leave, leaving the young woman to tend to her garden once more. But as he walked away, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered, a silent reminder of the connection they had shared, and the unanswered questions that remained. His feelings of unease began to grow, as he heard the girl sputter and choke behind him; slightly turning his head to see her hand come to cover her mouth, and a hand to clutch her stomach.

[thepinklink]

Ok I’m HERE pls elaborate on how Legend doesn’t push people away/want to be seen as strong. I will listen to All The Thoughts

HECK YEHA IM SO EXCITED OKAY LETS GO

And hold on tight, it’s long XD

I’ll go ahead and dump you right into it. Let’s look at his character traits, in Jojo’s original meet-the-characters sheet.

I want to focus on these two:

- Very mature for his age, but still young at heart

- Seems emotionally unaffected by his travels, however he keeps Koholint his dark secret

Long story short Legend doesn’t want to be seen as strong because he already is strong.

The idea that Legend pushes people away comes from the fear of losing those people. I think that Legend would have learned that loss is just a thing that happens. He can’t change that, he can’t stop it. And more importantly, he would have learned that not letting people inside in an effort to get hurt just wasn’t worth it. Ultimately, he would rather have friends and lose them one day than have no friends and spend his whole life (even more) alone and miserable.

Throughout the comic, we don’t even see Legend being any more or less receptive to the group’s relationship than anyone else. He hasn’t even been more secretive! It just feels like it because he has more things to stay quiet about. The reality is: Legend just knows when he does and doesn’t want to open his mouth and start spewing his personal information. He isn’t one to just spew words, I think that he considers every word that comes out of his mouth and as a result, just has no interest in sharing things about himself that don’t need sharing. Look here in the comic Scars:

Legend, Warriors, Hyrule, and Wild all share scars. Legend is the only one who doesn’t reveal the origin of his scar, by choice. Even Wild says “I don’t remember much,” which would seem to indicate that if he might have shared some information if he knew any. Legend remembers completely, and simply doesn’t say anything.

What does this tell us? Legend just has no interest in sharing where he got it. He has no problem remembering, and no issues with others’ curiosity—if he did, he wouldn’t have shown them the scar at all to avoid being harshly reminded and asked the inevitable “where did you get it?”

Long story short: Legend just has boundaries. And he’s very good at keeping them.

Legend doesn’t want to be seen as strong:

I just don’t think he’s that immature. I don’t think he is that anxious about his appearance. Yeah, I know, “but what about bunny Legend? He was worried about how the others would laugh at him because a bunny is weak and defenseless!”

Correct, but remember Legend says:

“I am so defenseless it’s pathetic. I’m a warrior, this is shameful.”

He is fully aware of how strong he is. And notice, he only talks about his strength in terms of weapons—he has absolutely no doubts about his emotional strength.

(Also, quick note: I like how Jojo uses the mirror to show us Legend’s face in this panel. She offers us a chance to sober up, to see exactly how this rabbit form has affected Legend and how he feels about it, and to take him seriously. She’s so clever!)

Also, “seems unaffected by his adventures, but keeps koholint his dark secret.” In other words, Koholint appears to be the only one his adventures he could not quite recover from. It was the only one that he could not just glean lessons from and then heal—it’s taking longer. But he’s clearly handling it well, and notice he doesn’t fight Twilight digging up the wound. He also doesn’t spill his whole secret willy-nilly.

He has no issues with being Hylian, with others seeing that he is only Hylian and he has emotions. He just also demonstrates incredible emotional maturity, in that he isn’t a blabber mouth.

To summarize: legend doesn’t push anyone away, he just conducts himself in a way we aren’t familiar with. He doesn’t spill his secrets because he doesn’t need to. And when he does, I’d bet my blog he’ll do it in a solid and intelligent way, not in a rush of tears and feelings because he’s been sick for seven days and he’s emotionally weakened. Legend also doesn’t feel a need to seem stronger than he is, because he knows his already incredible strength, and he also knows his weaknesses.

* * *

Okay, I think this is everything I’ve got right now XD sorry this took so long, it took my brain forever to get itself into shape. I hope this was at least semi-understandable hahaha

Thank you for reading!

[bitchfitch]

For a nobleman of any rank, the only relationship more politically influencial than a marriage that he could forge was that of mentor and apprentice.

The right wife, might, give him a lifetime of alliance with her family and heirs to succeed him or to marry off to other families to forge further alliances, but the right apprentice would give him a direct line into any family, village, town, country even, that that apprentice might someday lead. The Right apprentice might even prove a worthy heir without the mess blood ties brought. A son killing his father is crowned king, an apprentice knows he can do nothing to his mentor without the community turning on him in an instant.

The right apprentice wouldn't have an unfit older brother that needed done away with first.

The elder demon prince had spent many of his days dreaming of who he would want for his apprentice. A strapping young lad who was clever and brave and as ruthless as he. A boy who took after his heart and would find the beauty in conquest and glory in brutal battle. Strong with a sword, he had to be a match for Pavo himself so he'd feel no shame should the apprentice betray him.

The Cristatus clan, Pavo's own home and current top of the pile with their leader reigning as Demon King, was the obvious source for a boy of a like heart, but there was no point in making an allyship within the people he was already prince of.

He cast his net wider, his father was nearing the end of his life and Pavo wanted his apprentice under his wing before a crown made him too busy to dedicate proper time to making a warrior.

The Galluses, proud as any Cristatus but scrappy in their unrefinement. A boy from their ranks would jump to meet Pavo's expectations just to stay in the luxury of the Cristatus' wealth. His loyalty guaranteed by the nature of his clans need for protection and resources. Little did they offer politically besides bodies to fill the front lines of a battle with, but the image of him as a king for the downtrodden would be worth as much as any proper alliance.

The Ocellatta, Gorgeous artisans with their lands bursting with gems and precious metals. The boy they'd give would be worthless as a warrior, smug and brave with no strength or common sense, but the wealth and trade and beautiful people with their beautiful things would make the creature worth it. Their army was bought and not raised. Expensive yes, but convenient should he need to turn on his apprentices home. He could pay more, and make the boy watch as it all burned.

The Coraxes were shadow bound cowards. Snively assassin's who struck from the shadows and hid behind their mountainous home. Traitors, thieves, conniving, as weak in will as they were in body. Their mountains bursting with silver and rich with gold. Their territory a barrier to conquests of further flung riches.

Their lord a wannabe queen who was biding her time for a single moment of weakness that could allow her strike to be as quick as it was decisive in the fate of their looming war.

It was her, Lady Corvus of the Corax who stood before Prince Pavo the day he'd accept his apprentice.

He'd heard many descriptions of her. Lean with antler like horns and a whip tail that cut light itself. Her shadows so thick that all light that touched her skin vanished into her darkness. He could tell you nothing of her even as his younger brother directed his attention the right way with a hand on the back of his arm.

The silver mirror prosthetic eyes that granted Pavo the vision he hadn't been born with were miracles of magic he'd boast about till the day he died, but they always failed to show him what was hidden and all a Corax did was hide.

"Prince Pavo," her voice was that metered and courtly thing nobles who were ashamed of the blood on their hands used.

"Lady Corax," he returned with the drawl the finer demons hated to hear on their soon to be leaders voice.

Her carriage stood proud behind her, the door open and moving in such a way that implied another of her ilk was bent over the seat and attempting to convince the boy of the hour out from the shadows within.

"He's a bit shy. Clever though." She keeps her tone despite the dawning embarrassment both were being forced to endure.

Pavo shot a look over his shoulder to the company of his warriors and their apprentices behind him. The Coraxes made it look like they came alone, just a family with a handmaid and a driver, but not one of them believed there weren't Coraxes hiding in every shadow along the edges of the clearing between their lands that they'd chosen for this meeting.

The shriek of a child being torn from perceived safety was what pulled his attention back the right way.

The panicked thing thrashed in invisible to Pavo arms, his face streaked with tears.

Every demon stood a little straighter, the smell was what changed their tone from amusement to curious hunger.

The boy was perfectly visible. No shadows clung to him. His skin was flushed but deathly grey, his hair a sort of ink black that Pavo had never seen in the light of day. His eyes though were brown where the whites weren't cried red.

He was too young to have horns, too tiny to be a demon 10 years of age, his whipping tail too short to be seen beyond his skirts. A man who couldn't see color wouldn't have hesitated a second to call him completely human.

The boy lunged to wrap his arms around his mother's legs as soon as he was set down, Pavo imagined he had his face hidden in her skirts from the perspective of everyone else.

He scowled, Truthahn pinched his arm to remind him to keep his temper.

"Esti, this is Prince Pavo, he is to be your master," she pushed him away from her with a hand on his shoulder, her claws making the fabric of his robe pull and drape as she half picked him up to turn him.

"Esti, what a unique name," Pavo crouched down to bring his face near Esti's eye level, the boy flinched away from him. He'd maim Corvus for this slight. He admired her initiative, but to use a child as bait was a crime he'd not forget.

The halfbred bastard son shook. His expression said it all. He knew he'd been brought here so his death may justify a war. A walking martyr too young to have ever had a choice in it.

"It's great joy to finally meet you. I've waited to have an apprentice of my own for many years," he spoke loud and clearly as he held his hand out, the gesture being taken as slowly as he could as to not spook Esti further. Corvus wanted to see her son slaughtered, and he refused to give her so much as a frown of disappointment in the boy. "It'd be an honor to have the privilege to train you, if you'll have me as your mentor." He wished he could see Corvus's face, he hoped the boy could.

Esti's round eyes were wide, the moment not aligning with the terror he'd carried to this meeting. He looked at Pavo's hand like it might be a bear trap.

"Don't be rude, Esti," Corvus warned, the barely there note of irritation was enough to make Pavo break and grin.

"He's making a big decision. Be patient with him," Truthahn spoke for him.

Esti looked between the two Cristatus brothers, they must look like holy men out of a fairy tale to him.

They were magnificent even by demon standards. Tall and broad, their garb cut to show the heavy muscle they carried. The color of summer sun's bronze warmth with hair of the richest gemstone purple. Jewelry dripping from their horns to their ankles. Truthan with his neatly folded wings and Pavo with his mirrors for eyes.

Esti who came from a land of grey, of deception and betrayal by his own kin, reached his hand to take Pavo's.

"I- uhm," his voice was small, his every muscle tense and shaking as he waited for the trap to spring shut. "I- I - it's an uhm, honor to be uhm- Thank you. For uh, accepting m-me as your ap-rentice."

He hadn't even been coached on what to say should Pavo welcome him. Not a single scrap of silver had been spared to put a thin ring on any of his fingers. No leather for his belt, His very sandals looked as inexpensive and thin soled as could be managed.

Pavo gripped his hand tight to hold him still, and pushed a bracelet worth more than the carriage Esti had arrived in onto the boys wrist. It wasn't part of either of their customs, but it was a necessity to point out how dismissive Esti's own kin had been of him.

"It's official now," Pavo gave the boy a reassuring smile before dragging him forward and off of his feet. He weighed next to nothing, even less than Pavo had anticipated as he hefted Esti up to sit on the shelf his shoulder. Pavo turned to his men a triumphant gesture to show off their newest member.

"Greet him! My apprentice, Esti now of the Cristatus clan!" He was glad he didn't need to coax them any further, the cheering ruptured through the group. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Esti cling to the bracelet instead of the hand on his thigh that kept him safe from falling off. His priority to protect the gift he'd been given over his own body in that moment of shocked joy being such a pathetic instinct that it had Pavo promising to himself the boy would think of his home clan as savages by the summer's end when compared to the grace and glory of his mentor's.

The Coraxes left with as little fanfare as they had arrived. Drifting away while the party to celebrate their unwanted eldest son swelled.

Music and fine food cooked at the village and wine carried by their human servants. The comradery of brothers in battle if not blood filling the forest.

Esti to his credit handled the attention well for a child who'd clearly never so much as been allowed to stand in the corner of a proper revel. Still that manifested as him sitting with a look of war shock under the cover of Pavo's cloak. His small frame hidden easily by his new mentor's bulk.

Slowly the wave of warriors and apprentices that came to greet and introduce themselves to the brown eyed shadow under their prince's arm tapered off. Slower then did the party settle into the rhythm of conversation and relaxation.

The servants cleaned around the demons I preparation for setting up camp for the night, the boy who hadn't spoken a single word since his mother left cowered from them just as strongly as he did the warriors that came to chat as old friends with his mentor.

Gallo, a warrior Pavo had picked from a surrendering army himself, sat on the other side of him, his apprentice off following one of the human servant girls around the camp. The two older men watched the hopeful Cockrel shadow her every step. His smile warm his tongue heavy with promises made light by the wine.

"Ah don't judge the chick," Gallo thumped Pavo's shoulder. "Surely even you remember being young and opportunistic."

"I remember it well. Just as well as I remember never understanding the appeal of a human as anything other than a meal."

"A fuck and breakfast in bed, what more could you want?" Gallo joked. "He's got his airheaded reason you know. I think your little hatchling's got him thinking."

"A first for him?"

"Shut it, your highness. No, no, the boy saw how quick everyone was to start playing so much nicer with you. He's not getting a good demoness to nest with him, so he's thinking he's going to get human to do it and let his brothers do the work of raising up the next generation while he and whichever girl he can sweet talk into it make their fortune selling meat,"

"Is this his new attempt at business?" Pavo sighed. Cockerel wasn't a warrior by any definition. Never would be either, but he thought himself clever enough to make it as head of a merchant empire should he be able to get enough capital to start his ventures with.

"It's his best yet, to be honest," Gallo shrugged, he was right, to an extent, because this was the first time he had an idea for a product instead of vague promises of what the product would be.

"He's looking to get a human bred by him so he can sell off his own as meat."

"Hm hm, I give it oh, a week before he breaks and just chews her open."

"Stop him."

"He's showing initiative -"

"He can show initiative with your heard instead of mine. As is the beasts aren't producing enough for slaughter. I'm not loosing a good and healthy-" The fearful sob from his other side was enough to remind him of Esti's presence. "This is done. Stop him. For the time being no half breeds will be permitted in our flock. My apprentice doesn't need anyone learning a preference for that kind of meat."

"Wait- You're seriously keeping that thing?" Gallo reached aroumd him to grab the cloak away from Esti's back.

Pavo didn't hesitate. He grabbed his friend by the front of his neck and jerked him off of the fallen log they'd been sat on and onto the ground before it. Pavo stood to bring his entire wait down on the soft of Gallo's gut, his heel planted just below to concave of the man's ribs. Gallo hacked and gasped, his claws scrambling at the metal armor over Pavo's boot.

"Apologize to him," Pavo snarled, glad to have had someone volunteer to be the example for the others.

"I'm sorry-" Gallo's words cut off with the crunch of his ribs breaking from the lowest point on his sternum.

"For and to who?"

"Esti- Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry-"

"For?" Pavo lifted his boot to bring it down again with the same force as before,

"For - for-" Gallo struggled to find his error amidst his pain, his air being forced from his lungs with every stomp. "For ask-ing if you'd keep him."

"Esti," Pavo drove his heel down once more before turning to the boy, "Has he earned your mercy?"

Esti looked at him like he were a god in the flesh. Like his act of impulsive violence was divine intervention.

He opened his mouth, a merciful confirmation on his lips, before those human brown eyes lit with the realization of the power he held.

"No, he hasn't, Master."

Pavo's pride could light the fires for a year with how hot it burned.

Gallo snarled at the disgrace of having a halfbred child handed his fate. He struck out to attempt to grab for Esti's leg but Esti, for all his fear, was an agile creature. He moved out of the way with the grace the Coraxes were known for. Perching on the balls of his feet on a rotten branch so thin it should've broken the second someone breathed near it.

"What does he need to do to earn it?"

"Uhm- Cockrel. Cockrel will have his punishment."

"Leave him out of this!"

"No. Y-you insulted Pavo's apprentice, shouldn't- uhm- you suffer the same?" he stops, his confidence wavered, he looked to Pavo for guidance.

"Ah, a clever thing isn't he, hm? He's right. To my face, you dared to imply I'd let harm befall my own apprentice. You must surely be willing to see such happen to yours to even think it a possibility for mine," Pavo stepped off of him, finding Cockerel staring wide eyed from the the crowd that had congregated to watch the show.

Pavo beckons him over, the boy had to be shoved forward by warriors with more common sense than Gallo.

"Please-" Gallo fought to his knees, Pavo had no qualms kicking the side of his head to knock him back down.

The boy rushed to stand between his mentor and Pavo, he held his head high. He shook with fear. Weaselly as he was, Pavo had to admit the boy was a loyal sort.

"What was it, you were going to imply I should let happen to Esti?" Pavo strutted, the fear around him feeding into his sense of showmanship.

"He's a halfbred- I thought you wouldn't stand for the insult of Corvus pretending he was a worth offer."

"Hmm." Pavo hummed, he drew his hunting knife from where it was tucked into his belt and held its handle out to Esti. "Four I think. One for the presumption, one for attempting to touch you, one for attempting to harm you, and one for being too cowardly to fight for his right to take a punishment instead of his apprentice."

Esti took the knife, it was massive in his tiny hands, "Four? F-Four what, Master?"

"Four of something. Whatever you deem Cockerel should take for his mentor's crimes."

Esti nodded, he pushed the bracelet up his forearm until it looped over his elbow. Pavo made a note to teach the boy to not be so precious about things getting bloody.

"Y-your hand, please," Esti's foot steps barely disturbed the soil as he approached the older boy, "Either," he clarified.

"He's a swordsman- he'll have no use to your mentor without his -"

"Six," Pavo interrupted, "If that one keeps talking you will take the whole hand."

Cockerel screwed his eyes shut holding his hand out with his fingers splayed.

Esti wrapped one small hand around one thick finger, the edge of the blade placed under the edge of a claw. He looked to Pavo again seeking approval like a pup. He got it with a nod.

Cockerel couldn't muffle his pained scream, the blade cut clean. Taking his claw and the tip of his finger with a single, unskilled motion.

Esti stared at the dripping wound, a nudge on his shoulder from Pavo being enough to send him after the next. Cockerel fell to his knees, he still stood taller than Esti, his other hand gripping his wrist as he swore and bit back screams through the pain.

Two, three, four more, and the hand before him was declawed in its entirety. Esti didn't give the demon a moment of mercy, or in his mercy he aimed to make this as quick as he could, he grabbed for the other hand and took the claw off it's thumb before Cockerel could even lift his head.

Esti stepped back and to Pavo's side the second the deed was done. All his bravado being pulled under his nervous nature seconds after the act was done. Pavo ruffled his hair with all the affection a demon could muster for another. It was a clever choice. Painful and scarring, but unlikely to be permanent. The boy's claws would grow back, and with the right care, might even be just as straight when they do.

"There. Next time I will decide his punishment, and I won't show nearly as much grace as Esti has today." Pavo dismissed them with a wave of his hand, taking his seat and holding his cloak up for Esti to return to hiding beneath its cover. An offer Esti took as gratefully as he did quickly.

Gallo half carried Cockerel away, smartly keeping his mouth shut until they were far from Pavo's hearing.

He felt Esti attempt to return the knife to its sheath on Pavo's hip, but he stopped him with a hand on his. "That's yours now. The weapon you drew your first blood with is a special thing. May it serve you as faithfully as it served me."

"You already gave me the bracelet -"

"I did," Pavo unclipped another from his own wrist and grabbed Esti's to put it on him, "I'm giving you that one too, and the knife, and the sheath with it's belt when I can remove it without loosing my robes."

Esti gawked, he was really good at that. It made this new game of showing him how a noble boy should be treated so much more entertaining.

"I- Thank you, thank you, of course, b-but why?"

"Why what?"

"I don't mean to be rude but uh- he was right. I-m not worth uh any of this. Not anything."

"Hm," Pavo reached behind his own neck to unclasp a heavy beaded necklace. It would look comical around the column of Esti's neck, as it nearly hung down to hips. "I've decided you are."

"But- why?"

"Because Corvus says your not," he shrugs, "You will learn this quick, but I don't enjoy being told what to do and I don't like people thinking they can play my worst traits to their advantage. Corvus did both when she put you before me."

"She thought y-you'd kill me."

"Hm hm, and I'm glad she did. I might have actually done it if she didn't want me to."

He can tell that was the wrong thing to say within a second of the silence between them dawning. "You're safe, is the point. Don't give me a reason to decide I'm better off with you dead, and I'll protect you like you were my own blood. Understand?"

Esti nods, "Yeah, I uh, I think I do."

[seaofgoldensand]

for you, i will take the blame.

rafayel x mc (they/them | GN reader)

wtf do i call this... a continuation from this drabble.

tw: major character death, mentions of stab wounds

because the elders are not so kind, allowing rafayel to die before watching the consequences of his actions be brought to life by his very own lover. no, they had made sure for him to turn into seafoam once they wake up from the spell. after every heart of the occupants of lemuria stopped. all but one. their beloved rafayel.

rafayel was not deceased yet, no. because the elders needed him to witness the horrific screams from the lemurians dying one-by-one.

it is my fault.

he thought and belived; weak in his position and unable to move. multiple stab wounds to the chest. he can still hear their laughter ringing in his ears his heart slowing to a stop. he was left in that room, the elders filing out shortly after speaking of lemuria's demise and his own.

he wanted everything to end. perhaps if he were to be brought into a new life, it would be different.surely, he wouldn't have to relive something similar again, right? 

then, he heard them. 

"rafayel! where are you?!" 

the tone of their voice was different, it was soft laced with concern and panicked. rafayel could not speak much, the strain taking toll of his body and voice until with blurred vision, he sees his beloved. they came back. and he can't help but smile. 

this. this is them. he knew of it. 

they run to him, gathering him into their arms, spilling out apologies as if that would fix everything.

"rafayel! my lord, what happened? did i—was this my doing?!" 

"it was not." rafayel's voice was raspy, his breathing harsh, but he spoke with certainty. "if anything... it is mine." 

there are tears running down their face as they cradle his head against their chest and they shake their head. it couldn't be his fault. if that were the case, why was he on the floor with stab wounds displayed on his chest, what happened to the myth of lemurian blood saving and resurrecting people, was it just a hoax?

or had rafayel lost those attributes due to his betrayal? 

if they hadn't been panicking now, they surely are at this second, the moment they realized rafayel was disappearing. 

"w-what's happening? rafayel?! please. wait. you—you can't go! please... don't go."

with the little strength rafayel had, he raised his hand and rested it against their cheek, a pained, yet thankful smile appears on his face as he gently brushed his thumb against their cheek and perhaps it was because he had been able to see his lover awakened from the spell just one more time before he meets the darkness.

"it was never your fault, my beloved pearl. remember that... perhaps, we will meet again in the future."

and they squeeze him in their hold, despite his body gradually turning into seafoam until the last moment, when rafayel's body was no longer there, they fall to the ground and sob uncontrollably, curled into a fetal position, right where their lover once laid. 

whalefall city fell dead silent that night, the bustle of the city and the chattering of the crowds gone like the rest of them. it became a ghost town of some sort and as years come to pass, the once lively capital of lemuria will surely be forgotten. 

nothing but another myth to add to stories parents tell their children as a bedtime story, but none would ever know the true horrors of how a god fell in love with his human devotee and that, in itself, spelled another love story turned tragedy.

[delusionalthinkingatbest]

Louis De Pointe Du Lac Deep Dive🦇 SPOILERS (Long post- so strap in)

I was going to make this post about Armand but in recent developments I feel like I should talk on Louis. I know this isn't the TikTok platform but lately I've been seeing the fandom kind of turn on Louis? Calling him a pick me and weak based off of his actions in season 2, so let's talk about it. (and were keeping everything friendly this is just a tv show after all)

Starting off I don't think Louis is a great perfect person. NO one, and I mean NO ONE in this series is. But to call Louis a pick me I feel like is really not giving his character justice.

Louis is a product of his environment. His father died leaving him in charge, his mother berates and expects a lot out of her son, and his brother is mentally ill. Louis' sister was really the only person that had his back, but it was always through words never actions. Then Paul kills himself in front of Louis, and Louis is blamed despite it not being his fault. Despite his efforts to keep him family afloat. And despite him taking care of Paul and protecting him until the end, nothing was enough.

Now picture that happening to you then a man comes along. Not just some average man but a man that has a natural ability to draw people in. He calls you beautiful, perfect, and loving. He takes you places and cares for you in a way you've never experienced before.

It's how most cycles of abuse start. They lure you in with honey and that's exactly what Lestat was. And as time went on Lestat's anger became explosive and commanding but he was still loving thought. But again, if we put ourselves in Louis shoes I would take the abuse. Because I know afterwards my partner that I knew would come back it would just take some time. Which is why even though Lestat screamed, bullied Claudia, bullied Louis and mortally wounded him Louis kept coming back everytime.

Because who knows when he might get a love like this again. He would have rather put up with it even at the expense of himself and others if it meant that this love wouldn't go away.

Then Lestat dies. And he's alone again after years, and even though he tells Claudia that she's enough we all know that not true. Because no amount of family love or love from friends can replace a partner's love. And we know that's a fact because Claudia was constantly looking for that type of love not only through the carriage driver but also the seamstress.

Then we get to Armand. Confident, loving, teasing, and eerily similar on the surface to his past lover. And the abuse cycle starts all over again. Through loving words and phrases to manipulative behavior and threats. But before we call Louis weak, remember that this is what he's used to.

Especially since homosexuality was forbidden and heavily denied in Louis's time this was his first (than secound) real relationships technically. And both were of an abusive nature.

I'm not trying to make this post long or tell people they can't dislike Louis but remember that the cycle of abuse and trauma can keep going through a person for generations. In order to be broken a person must acknowledge that they are being abused and have the strength to change it. And based on Louis response to David he does not even consider himself a victim of anything.

I'm not saying Louis is a saint and Claudia definitely deserves better but when you realize where people come from and what they've been through it's not an excuse for their actions, but it better explains them.

Thank you for coming to my TED TALK 💕

[truebluefire]

Class 1-A is introduced to you, the new student

Quirk Class 1-A is introduced to you, the new student

Quirk: Blue Flame, you can expulse blue flames from your entire body, and also from individual limbs such as arms, legs, feet, etc.

Drawbacks: Because the flames are so hot, you are more susceptible to heat stroke

Reader is referred as he/him, and uses nicknames like “man, dude, guy, etc”

This is pre-sports festival

The class was roaring with chatter. You stood outside the classroom with Aizawa, relaxed, before he opened the door and walked inside the classroom. You stayed in the hallway, waiting for Aizawa to call you in to introduce yourself.

“Alright, everyone settle down. I have an important announcement.”

That sentence surely got everyone’s attention.

“We have a new student. A transfer from a different hero school from overseas.” Aizawa looked towards you, and you took your first steps into the room. Everyone looked at you. Everyone except the blonde boy near the back of the class.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say, nonchalantly and quietly. To be honest, you were incredibly nervous, but you didn’t want them to know. You tried playing it cool. You placed your hands in your pockets, and tried to calm yourself down, playing with some coins you had.

“Y/N doesn’t enjoy talking about his quirk, so if you don’t mind, don’t ask him about it. We, as an administration, are helping him through some fears he has regarding his strengths and weaknesses. Please be kind.” You could almost hear someone scoff at you in the back of the room. You could see the green haired boys eyes light up with curiosity. You quietly walked to an empty desk when asked.

During the lesson, you paid attention to everyone and their personalities. You stayed silent, carefully observing each of your classmates. Some had a temper, some were too smart for their own good. Some were creeps, and some were just stupid. This class really had it all, didn’t it?

Pretty soon, class was dismissed, and you were the first to get up to leave.

“Y/N,” you heard someone call your name, which grabbed your attention. You looked towards the person who called your name. It was Midoriya. He seemed nice from what you gathered from hearing him speak in class, so you didn’t mind too much. You placed your hands in your pockets.

“Oh, hey there, Midoriya.”

“Oh wow, your voice is very soothing,” he muttered under his breath, causing a slight blush of embarrassment and flattery to spread across your cheeks.

“Anyways,” Midoriya continued, “We’re going to get some snacks and we’re gonna go train for the upcoming sports festival. Want to come watch? You don’t have to use your quirk if you’re not comfortable.”

That sentiment rang in your ears for a moment. He remembered Aizawa’s words, and took them into account? He cares about my feelings?

“Sure, I’d love to watch.”

“Y/N, are you sure?” Aizawa asked. You nodded your head. Aizawa closed his eyes.

“Alright, I’m coming with you. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Safe side?” Midoriya questioned.

“When Y/N is riled up by someone, his quirk can get out of hand. And seeing that Bakugo is also attending after school training, it’ll be safer if I’m near to erase quirks if someone’s anger gets out of hand. We might want to make sure that no one gets hurt.”

“Wow, your quirk must be pretty strong then, huh?” Ochaco asked.

“Eh, I’d rather not talk about it-“ you reply, scratching the back of your head, nervously.

“Oh, right. Sorry for asking!” She replied, almost begging for forgiveness.

You and your new friends arrived at the training grounds, and you sat on a nearby bench, watching the students learn to improve their skills. Aizawa stood in front of the bench, giving students some tips to help further improve their abilities.

“What a damn nerd…” you heard from behind. Pretty soon, Bakugo was walking past you, and looked at you menacingly.

“Do you think you’re so powerful that you can’t use your quirk around me, hot shot?” Bakugo said. Your eyebrows furrowed, and Aizawa heard the commotion.

“Bakugo, leave Y/N alone. Don’t mess with him.”

“Awe, come on. Surely he’s not that great. Maybe you can’t control you little quirk like that moron, Deku. Did you suddenly develop a useless quirk too?” He said, smiling in your face.

You could feel the heat in your body start to brew. You were getting angry, but luckily, Aizawa was there so you wouldn’t make a scene.

“Bakugo, leave him alone. His quirk is more powerful and dangerous than anyone’s right now. You’re strong, Bakugo, but I have to protect you from him now. Choose your enemies wisely, Bakugo.”

You were still angry, and you walked out the facility and slammed the door. You walked back to UA, and spoke with you counselors.

UA had specifically designed a fireproof room for you to let out your anger, and there you went, and unleashed all your anger. You body went up in blue flames, so high, they touched the ceiling. You threw some punches and balls of fire at the furthest wall to let off some steam. Aizawa walked into the counselors room to watch you from the other side of some fireproof glass.

“He’s got a temper, but at least he knows when and where to let it show.”

Your screaming and yelling in anger lasted about 30 minutes before Aizawa had to step in. He could tell you were getting overheated, and didn’t want you to suffer from the drawbacks of your quirk, which was heatstroke.

Since your flames are so hot, you easily heat up, causing you to sweat and be more susceptible to heat stroke. Aizawa erased your quirk before you realized. Your eyes had closed as you became more tired, yet you still tried throwing punches. The heat from the room was excruciating.

“Y/N,” the sound of Aizawa’s voice snapped you out of it. You looked towards him and saw his red eyes, and noticed you couldn’t use your quirk anymore.

“Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you some water and some food.”

You shuffled your way towards Aizawa and he wrapped his arm around your waist, to help you stay up. The counselors helped cool you down and brought you some water to drink. As your body cooled, and you calmed down, you became tired. Usually it’s just another affect from the heat you endure.

The reason you’re here in the first place isn’t because you want to be a hero. You needed serious help, and going to a school where pro heroes taught seemed like a safe place for you to openly experiment with your quirk without hurting anyone. In your past, you hurt someone you dearly loved.

You vowed to never use your quirk again. Soon, you proved yourself wrong. When someone hit a nerve with you, you again, used your quirk to hurt another, thus beginning showing signs of anger issues, and lack of self control.

That is why you are here at UA, and you were paired with Aizawa’s class. He was the safest bet when it came to controlling your quirk.

AN: Let me know if you’d like to have this as a several part series! I find this character incredibly fun. I’ll probably still continue this story anyways!

[sadseungmin]

♡ breaking up with a psychotic lee felix ♡

psychotic lee felix x reader | gender neutral | dead dove

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will kidnap you *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix's reaction would be swift and terrifying. He will kidnap you, taking you to a secluded, heavily secured location. Felix will create an enforced captivity where he controls every aspect of your life. He removes any means of communication with the outside world and ensures you are completely dependent on him for survival. You find yourself trapped, with Felix justifying his actions as a way to protect you and keep you with him forever.

"You know what I say whenever your parents come over to discuss your missing person's case? I tell them, 'I'm so sorry I couldn't protect y/n! I'll never stop looking for them. I'll never love another like I loved them.' Then I fake cry. And they buy it. Every time. They tell me your disappearance isn't my fault. Isn't that sweet? How naive they are."

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will poison you for control *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix will use subtle poisoning to keep you weak and dependent on him. He administers small doses into the pastries he bakes for you of a substance that makes you feel constantly ill and disoriented, ensuring you can't muster the strength or clarity to escape. Felix would then position himself as your caregiver, providing "medicine" (in the form of sugar pills) and comfort, reinforcing your reliance on him. You are caught in a vicious cycle of illness and dependence, unable to break free from Felix's grasp.

"My poor baby, you've made such a mess! Did I feed you too many chocolate chip brownies? Is that why you threw up everywhere? Don't worry, I could never be disgusted by you. I'll clean you up and then bake you another batch! How does double fudge sound?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will make veiled threats & show conditional kindness *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix alternates between kindness and veiled threats to control you. He showers you with affection, gifts, and attention, crating moments of false security and hope of escape. However, any sign of resistance or attempt to escape is met with a chilling calmness as he makes it clear that there are consequences for disobedience. You learn to comply out of fear, understanding that his seemingly gentle demeanor can quickly turn dangerous. His conditional kindness keeps you in a constant state of anxiety, unsure of when the next threat will surface.

"Darling, I adore you more than anything in this world, and I'll move mountains to see you happy. But know this—if you ever try to leave me, I'll make sure you understand the true meaning of pain. Stay with me, and you'll have everything; try to escape, and there won't be a place far enough to hide from my wrath. Don't cry, baby. All will be fine if you just listen."

[demeterdefence]

you know, for a comic that claims to be a "feminist retelling," it is incredible how meaningless and vapid the actual "feminism" tends to be

just using the latest update, where ouranos is verbally trying to tear rhea down and metis just kind of ... does this? and let's be clear, i don't expect metis to break into some kind of longwinded speech, considering the moment, but it doesn't like ... do anything.

is there even any reason to say rhea and metis knew each other? beyond just being fertility goddesses, have they ever actually met? metis reaching for rhea would have a lot more power if we knew of their relationship prior; because we don't know if there was one (and there very likely wasn't, rhea mentions metis to zeus while she's dying in his arms and tells him to use metis like ouranos used her) the casual aspect of this interaction falls flat on its face.

it's great to have girl boss moments and "fuck yeah" scenes, and those can be great as a feminist aspect, but feminism and women solidarity is more than that. it's something rachel has tried to do numerous times but can never actually stick the landing on. the concept of all the fertility goddesses working together could be empowering, but thus far, we haven't seen them connecting - they're just posing in their met gala reject dresses, framed in such a way that we see their breasts over and over. wouldn't this moment have been better if metis and the other fertility goddesses had put their hands on rhea's shoulders, or shown that they were together beyond ouranos? there wouldn't even need to be text; showing the three of them surrounding her, showing her love that she couldn't find with kronos, showing her that she wasn't alone.

if rachel wanted to prove that rhea was too badass to be affected by ouranos, then metis reaching for her just serves as pointless space filler. there's no point to her repeating "no, no, no" because it defeats the whole purpose of rhea being strong. it makes it seem like rhea is as fragile and timid as ouranos is trying to claim. again, we don't even know if metis and rhea know each other, and we have to remember that in previous chapters, rhea is the one who told zeus to consume her, and that metis slept with zeus when he was very much underage. we don't exactly have positive links between the two, so having metis act as some kind of comfort just feels. obligatory. like, throw in some surface level girl comfort.

visuals can be so powerful, and just seeing all the fertility goddesses rallying together facing ouranos, rather than separately posing, could have been so phenomenal. isn't that the whole point of this narrative? isn't the whole point that love goes both ways, that strength comes from connection and love (not just romantic, but maternal, friendship, allyship?)

unrelated, i don't think it's a coincidence that both persephone and rhea have been bashed by their father-in-laws in The Big Showdown, or that the bashing follows the same line of taunting. both have been called useless and weak, and it just seems to drive the point home that rhea and persephone are more or less twins. this is the most persephone-looking rhea has ever appeared, which is gross for a lot of reasons, but i digress.

showing, not telling, goes a long way, and it would be nice if we could see the actions of women supporting each other, rather than being told it's happening.

[terrence-silver]

Would KK 3 era Terry steal beloveds panties / thongs and make a secret shrine out of them? Or smell them when she wasn't around? (Only 2 more to send! 😂)

---

I generally think Terry relishes in snooping through intimate items.

Collecting them, sure.

Holding unto them in some perverse display of ownership, yes.

Like maintaining a trophy.

Not limited to just the unmentionable type of intimates; namely, panties and undergarments, which would seem like the obvious target of any stalking pervert.

No.

I think Terry's interested in everything.

Literally everything he can find or stumble upon. Old newspapers beloved's (or an enemy in general) kept. Trinkets. Books, read and unread. Mundane nonsense. The wrapper of a chocolate. A half emptied deodorant bottle. The chunk of hair caught in their brush. The contents of a pill cabinet. How much dust has or has not accumulated over furniture tops. The method with which his target folds their clothes. Their drawer of socks. Old memories. New memories. Where they keep the spare key. Do they have a jar of money. The contents of a diary. What's in their fridge and by extension, what are their eating habits. What laundry detergent they use and what it smells like. The general layout and feel of their home. Are they a messy or a tidy person.

I mean, literally anything you can imagine interests him and he sees potential in everything, no matter how mundane and seemingly ridiculous. Why? Because it's all information and informations are power. Something someone like him might've learned during his army days; Never disregard any piece of intel, because that very same intel might tactically stand between you and death itself. He was supposedly in the Spec Ops, so it's very likely this training has been embedded in him to the degree it bled into every habit he has because scouring an apartment he broke into isn't that different from scouring a booby trapped base camp or a battlefield to Terry. He functions under eerily similar principles in both war and peace. See, if you've an eye for detail --- all details --- you can discover incredible things about a person's habits. Interests. Personality. Mentality. Daily and night routines. Their comings and goings. Weakness you can exploit. Strengths you can appeal to. Secrets they want to hide. Interests you can emulate. How their very insides smell like judging by the soaked fabric of worn, used underwear fished out of a hamper. It's all right there. In someone's surroundings. In their domain. The home they inhabit. That's pretty much how he tried to appeal to Mr. Miyagi by discovering what unit the man served in during WWII and conveniently bringing up the fact that he too is a veteran and that war is, in fact, hell. Nevermind what people say. Often times, you should disregard what people do too, because even patterns of habit can deceive and a deceiver like Terry should know. How people live? Now, there's where all answers are usually contained. All it takes is breaking into someone's house once, and if you're tenacious and determined enough, if you've a talent for looking, you can find out...literally whatever you want just by observing at what you see around you.

You'll have control over the situation.

And an upper hand over people in ways they don't have over you.

And I think Terry has a legitimate glee when he snoops through people's things.

There's childlike excitement in literally everything he finds.

It's like going to an endless candy shop for him.

Precisely because it represents power.

Which, by extension, might be why he was so distraught when Chozen, Johnny, Mike Barnes and Daniel Larusso broke into his home because he very well understands the meaning of someone trespassing into your privacy and all the ways it violates the sanctity of intimacy. All the ways they had power over him in that moment, very well beyond his control. All the things they could've discovered about him. All the ways he was open to scrutiny and observation by an enemy. All the ways he was infuriatingly vulnerable.

That being said, he is something of a hypocrite with double standards.

He's fully keen on collecting beloved's panties, underwear and god only knows what else and keeping all of these things and much, much more as a trophies for a shrine, a private collection or merely his own personal enjoyment, but he'll just as well fly into a rage under the right circumstances at the very notion of someone doing as much as harmlessly walking around the mere premises of his estate without explicit permission. He can do unto you as he likes, but be prepared for retaliation if you do unto him as you like.