#stories of a concubine

[yandere-sins]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well! *Pulls up a PowerPoint* this is my pitch for king’s favorite concubine going yandere for the new concubine, instead of seeing them as a rival-

Very convincing! (Also sorry, this got long!)

It's hard enough to leave your life behind to serve someone you don't know and never thought you'd be good enough for. For a moment before your carriage passes through the large gate to the palace, you consider jumping out and running, start over from scratch but at least be free. But the pressure is too high, your body tense and unmoving until you hear the gate close behind your back.

People rely on you. Your family, your village, the whole entire nation. You might not be the noblest of nobles in the country, but apparently you were pretty enough to stand out to the King regardless of your ranking in society. And now, you have a duty to fulfill. For yourself, it feels like an empty oath you take when you swear your loyalty and servitude. But for so many other people it's a chance to become better than they were, and since they speak your name so highly now that you are the King's new concubine, there's at least some improvement coming from this.

You are a little cynical. You can admit that.

It's just that next to the King, with all eyes on you, you seem to be the only one who's unhappy. The King is happy, the court is happy, the people are happy. Just you are not. You are a sacrifice for the greater good, and you feel like no one would understand what you're going through if you told them, telling you to just be happy you were chosen. So you grin and bear it, both the snide looks of nobles who think you are a little too blant for the castle, and the expectations that are put on your head—regardless if you want them or not.

Just when you are alone do you get to heave a heavy sigh when you think no one is watching. However, someone is indeed watching, much to your chagrin.

Even worse: It's not just a gossipy maid but the previous favorite concubine of the King who you avoided like the pest. You can imagine how it must feel to be replaced so easily, and no doubt, the same would happen to you to as soon as the King gets bored. But against your expectations, the first meeting with her doesn't end in putting you down and laughing at you with her cronies (the other concubines that never even made it to favorite). Instead, she sighs too, telling you she knows.

At that moment, you feel understood for the first time.

When she invites you to tea, you expect the hassle of having to socialize with countless rejected noble concubines, but it ends up as just you two, in some corner of the garden with merely her personal maid to attend you two. For a while, nothing gets said while you two sip your tea and eat delicious snacks. But eventually, she laughs lightly, telling you that for nothing in the world would she want to switch with you again.

She points out all these little things that bother you, be it about court or the King himself. She knows your pain too well, and at the end, you're tearing up, salting your tea with your tears. You thought she'd take advantage of your misery when you let your mask slip, but she hugs you, pats your head, tells you that you're doing great. She sees you—the real you—and she accepts you exactly as you are, with all your cynical thoughts and longing for freedom.

From then on, you two have something that could be considered a friendship. She can't save you from the nights you are summoned to the King, and she's not always there to shield you from the gossiping mouths. But at events she's by your side, the King pleased to see his favorites so close, and she teaches you all the things you need to survive in this enviroment.

You two are so close, people gossip about your relationship, but you no longer care. You enjoy taking vacations with her, shopping with her, riding horses and drinking tea. Things are certainly looking up, but against your expectations... you are not replaced. Months go by, then a full year. The King doesn't take a liking to anyone else who's presented to him, only relying on you and the occasional other concubine he lusts after.

It makes you desperate.

So desperate, in fact, that one day, you tell the last favorite concubine about your plans to escape. You ask her to come with you, share a new life with you as normal people somewhere far, far away. Without the luxuries and careless life you have at court, but also away from the King and this dreadful society you will only ever looked down upon by. You tell her your plan and that you are sure you two can make it, assuring her that even though her family is far more prestigious, they won't suffer from her betrayal to the King.

It takes a while to talk her into it, but eventually, she takes heart and agrees. You're overjoyed that your best friend will be with you on this journey, no matter how hard it will be. You finally can save yourself and the person who saved you from breaking from all the pressure that had been put on you. So you tell her where to meet you and when, departing so no one may get suspicious of you two plotting something.

Late at night you're packing your bags, filling the with jewels and other, light-weighted, expensive things you can sell for a small fortune. You put on your peasant garbs and feel ready to finally leave behind this awful place, when your door flies open, guards storming into your room just before the King marches in, furious.

You can't think of one reason how he could have possibly found out, but as you receive the scolding of your lifetime, your face burning from the beating, you look up and behind the King, the silhouette of the person that meant everything to you standing in the doorway, and your heart feels with betrayal despite the way she flinches every time you get hit.

Naturally, charged with treason, you are thrown into the dungeon, not knowing what happens next. The King made it clear he wanted to hang you for betraying him, so now, instead of longing for freedom, you have to fear your death. Days pass by, and you start not to mind the mice and cold so much anymore, when your cell door gets unlocked, a soft coat being wrapped around your shoulders. When you look back, you can't help but scowl at the face of your former best friend, the person you trusted most.

"You have to understand," she sighs, falling to her knees behind you, hands landing on your shoulders. You try to shrug her off, but she leans against you, and you can hear the guards' armor clanking as if to warn you not to do anything to the current Flower of the Kingdom. "I cannot leave this place. I couldn't have gone with you, and besides, isn't it much better here? I had to... had to stop you somehow. I thought this would be the best option."

Tears are welling up in your eyes as you listen to her bullshit excuses, the betrayel weighing too heavy on your mind. She's now crying too, trying to make you face her, look at her at least, but you vehemently deny her that satisfaction. Her tone changes immediately, going from rueful to angry as she asks you what else she should have done? That you'd die out there for sure, since you aren't capable of handling the real outside world no matter what you think!

You still refuse to look at her, but she yanks at your hair, forcing you around and before you know it, she slapped you so hard you're seeing stars. Dumbfounded you stare at nothing in particular while your cheek burns, the concubine sinking back to her knees sobbing, asking you for forgivness and revealing that she asked the King to forgive you. It sounds like she's convincing herself when she says, "Everything will go back to normal. We'll just pretend nothing of this ever happened and we'll continue to live like before. That's fine right? At least we'll always be together!"

There's nothing really you can say to her even then. The whole situation feels more bizarre than when you heard that you were going to be the next concubine for the King. Nothing could convince you that things would go back to normal—what's normal anyway?—and besides, you didn't want this normal. You wanted to get away, to be free and unburdened by your responsibility as concubine. Not continue the same, pitiful way you had before.

Somehow, she must have read your thoughts. After staring into your blank eyes for a while, she just seemed to snap. Her tears dried out, her stare turning void of emotions as her hands creep up to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat.

"Don't even think about it. Don't you dare think about leaving me again! You'll never leave my side again, so don't even dream of it! You will stay here, with me, and serve the King for the rest of our miserable lives. I will not let you go, do you understand?"

She has more strength than you expected and as she shakes you angrily, your vision begins to blurr, air growing thin as you grind out a broken, "Yes!"

All of a sudden, the pressure is gone and you keel over, gasping for air, just short from passing out. "Good," she mutters, satisfied even though she doesn't look convinced yet. "Remember your promise, or I will not safe you next time. Next time, you can rot here in the dungeons for all I care."

With that, she leaves. Leaving only the warm coat behind that she brought you. It's hard to keep up with the new revelations, understand that selfishness put you into this position, and that from a person you trusted. Who you wanted to start a new life with. Not only did she betray you, but she also switched your life around. For what? To play pretty concubines for the rest of your lives? Prisoners who could afford whatever they wanted as long as they sold themselves out to a just as cruel and selfish king?

It doesn't take long for someone to fetch you from the dungeon, wash you and clothe you appropriate for your standing, while the tears never stop falling. Until, eventually, you are brought before the King, forced to kneel to the man who ruined your life, while your previously best friend stands by his side, mouthing the words,

"Together. Forever."

All while the King, once again, asks you to swear your loyalty to him, your misery repeating.

[the-reincarnated-princess]

[sponsoredbyanxiety]

always found the allegations that Dune is sexist because the women have no power funny because it’s really that the women are extremely powerful in the most sexist way possible

[demonlike-judge-of-fire]

thinking about my otome isekai OCs again, and, seriously, why dont stories add more transmigrators more often?? there is so much to explore, have you SEEN concubine walkthrough? OH MY GOD, ONE OF THEM DIDNT EVEN REMEMBER THEY HAD TRANSMIGRATED? AND DONT YOU LOVE HOW THE PREVIOUS OWNERS OF THE BODY STILL LIVE ON AND STILL HAVE INFLUENCE ON THE STORY??? AM I ALONE IN THIS??? OH THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT MY OCS anyway, read concubine walkthrough

[dollsuguru]

?????( KAIRO????????? YOU CAN’T CASUALLY MENTION KING!SUGU/KNIGHT!READER AND THEN MOVE ON I’M ABT TO EXPLODE 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

ok but “call off your dog” is THEEE dynamic ever to me actually like it’s so good …. that feral devotion…. reader being like his attack dog…… i’m just thinking abt this vine 😭😭 the dog is knight!reader the owner is king!sugu and satoru is the one abt to get bitten LMAOOO

I’M GONNA HAVE TO HEAR MORE DETAILS ON THEIR DYNAMIC FROM U THOUGH PLSPLS I’M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES :’3

YOU’RE SO RIGHT ABT THAT DYNAMIC gojo is a squealer, suguru’s an instigator, & reader is just :3 BARK

& KDKDKDKDKD LISTEN IT’S SOMETHING I THOUGHT ABT A WHILE AGO ONLY MOMENTARILY but i will say king!geto infiltrates my thoughts from time to time </3

omfg i haven’t really thought of the lore of this au in depth 😭 i just know i wanted it to be feral violent dark devotion <3 just very intense and raw but VERY genuine like there’s genuine love there that makes them soooooo insane <3 i think the idea of king!geto is just delicious…

there’s rumors across the kingdom where the now king!geto murdered his parents in cold blood in order to usurp the throne (is this real or not? who knows? not me…) to those he dislikes/who dislike him: he’s a cunning king… sly… manipulative… calculating… tactically/strategically intelligent… he’s like a viper <3 venomous serpent fangs ready to strike when the opportunity presents itself, his fangs leaving ragged bloody raw bite marks in his opponent’s necks where they simply won’t ever survive // on the flip side/more human side he’s a young king after all so in the privy of his castle/palace he’s a bratty, huffy, dramatic king :> a funny lil twist from the demure, elegant, alluring king that the townspeople see

BUT on the opposite end for those he adores/adore him: he always looks out for them! he really does LOVE his people i think the reason that he’s SO beloved is because he wants to create a better world for his subjects! he’s kind, caring, & always has their best interests in heart! he keeps them safe, he goes into the town to speak to vendors/assess how to help them, & then plays with the little children (nanako mimiko megumi yuji & yuuta are especially fond of the king and he’s especially fond of them <3 they’re all his little babies <3)

as for knight!reader… omfg insane human i love them. they’re like if a wolf, raven, & a panther had a baby. just a rugged/morally grey/sick sick sick individual 😭 i think in the beginning their devotion stems not necessarily from Love for suguru & the royal family but from the Love of fighting/killing! they were a ward of the infamous assassin toji zen’in and worked under the tutelage of king ryomen sukuna, a tyrannical & heinous king. they have a scar that runs from their left eyebrow down their eye on the middle of their cheek courtesy of sukuna </3 they’re like an undomesticated dog who needs to be reared in through trial & error, strictness, & punishment.

and you may think… What The Hell are they doing as suguru’s knight then??? 🤔🤨

well if you saw a single knight take down an army of bandits all by their lonesome wouldn’t you be intrigued…? regardless of anything you know that they’re CAPABLE & able to PROTECT. which is the most important thing <3 the perfect duo: a king who already has a screw loose in his head and a knight who never had any screws in their head to begin with <3

basically knight!reader is a fan of the hunt more than anything <3 imagine them walking towards suguru all bloody with a wild glint in their eyes and a massive smirk… suguru for once in his life found someone/something he can’t control…

… but suguru likes a challenge and he likes to tame <3 reader isn’t a brat, they’re just so feral & need to be put on a leash for their own benefit/the benefit of those around them <3 he wants to domesticate this undomesticated dog and train them properly. my knight!reader is the type to submit willingly but only to those they respect.

that’s why the “call off your dog” aspect is so delicious to me……… reader is so feral and violent and always has their fangs bared, their canines sharp & bloodied. and suguru is always holding their leash, ready to draw them back or ready to tell them to “attack.” it’s all based off of suguru’s whims & orders at the end of the day. knight!reader bows only for suguru and suguru alone <3

sidenote suguru & his knight have like . sadomasochistic tendencies . not necessarily Sexual vibes but like……… the knight is quite masochistic & suguru is quite sadistic (to each other… but they love it… another facet of their Sick dark weird devotion towards one another)

and also by dark devotion i mean reader is on their knees with suguru’s knuckles against their lips, the epitome of: “let me kill for you. let me bloody my hands, let me show my love in this way, in a violent way, the only way i know how.” and suguru cradles them like a father would a baby: “let me tame you. i’ll bark out the orders and you’ll follow through. because you devote yourself to me. and because i love you. i will show you my love through control & intense passion, the only way i know how.”

also i have a Certain Scene in my head that ultimately showcases their love for one another and i’ll just say it here bc i don’t think i’m writing this story anytime soon and i know i’ll forget if i don’t write it down 😭 but after a battle or smthn reader comes back bloodied and scarred and for once in his life suguru feels genuine fear. it’s unbecoming of a noble king to carry someone who is Designed to Protect him to his personal bath, but he does so regardless. i think one of the MOST intimate things is to give someone a bath… and he does that. he’s no longer a king and you’re no longer a knight… he’s a worried young man who bandages & bathes you, who needs to take care of his beloved by doting on them oh-so carefully & oh-so softly. it’s almost like a purification process for both of these characters too.

and then suguru sees something on the knight’s body… it looks like a tattoo but it’s a brand (think of sukuna’s markings but along the knight’s stomach & back) suguru then really looks at the knight and realizes that… this person is just so tired. weary. young. they enjoy the hunt but they’ve always existed to serve others, to protect others, to take the punishment so others don’t have to…

i think he gains an extra layer of respect for reader and is almost… sad? i think he thinks abt if they met under different circumstances would they still be tied to one another? had he been a teacher and had reader been a butcher — would the devotion still be there? and then he catches the knight’s eyes staring into his… and he’s positive. 100% certain. no matter the era no matter the circumstance no matter which lifetime they’re in — the intensity of their raw devotion towards one another withstands the test of time. also TRUST the knuckle kisses that the knight gives suguru are soooooo reverent

BUT yeah blah blah blah this sets up the NEXT scene which would be suguru giving reader a hickey in the bath (his own form of branding) and sukuna sees it the next day 😹 like “oh? you took my little rottweiler puppy and made them a refined wolf… good for you.”

i’m all over the place but ESSENTIALLY that’s the gist of it all 😭 there’s SOOOOO much more lore/twists/turns and such the further i think abt the story but omfg……….. you know what maybe i will write this soon 🫡 they’re my beloveds

[consortmadness]

𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞/𝐊𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 (𝟏/?)

𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐧 (𝟐𝟖 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟏𝟕𝟏𝟐- 𝟖 𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟕𝟒𝟖)

*𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐫*

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Hello!!! I don't know if this series already recommended in this blog. This series is so good. I like how the author include an outsider POV. It's a light hearted and funny story (for me). Slow update so read at your own risk

The Concubine Mo Chronicles

by Enigmatree

T, 79k, WIP, series, Wangxian

Summary: An AU where the Lan Xichen is the Emperor; Lan Wangji is the Crown Prince; the Jin, Jiang, and Nie are Dukedoms; and even 13 years dead, Wei Wuxian is still the most feared man in all of China. Newly resurrected, Wei Wuxian would love nothing more than to cultivate a core and go become a rogue cultivator. Except, there's something very suspicious going on in the Imperial Palace, and while Wei Wuxian might not be able to help Lan Wangji in solving it, the unassuming and soft-spoken "Prince-Concubine Mo" sure can.

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.

[faetreides]

no one on my blog probably gives a fuck about dune but like dilf oscar isaac is doing things to me….. i love older fictional men with “questionable” morals

[sculptorofcrimson]

Pavilion of Golden Flowers

A Warhammer retelling of the Drunken Concubine.

Synopsis: Valdor waits for his master

“Love and hate breeds a trice

Couple like the moon with sun

Love and hate are vast

Ask, do kings love?” - Drunken Concubine

~~~

Terra no longer snowed. The white flakes that once cascaded and tumbled before Terra’s slow ruin, the pale frost that had blanketed the Himalayas and chilled golden armor to divine bone, had departed for scorching spring, never to arise once more. There was no more water to freeze, not a single drop of natural moisture upon Terra to fall from its plump heavy clouds. No more bitter frost to wrap the world underneath its wintery embrace. Even the Imperial Palace’s pools and lascivious decor held no natural born water of Terra’s oceans, not eden wealth could restore the lost, for Poseidon had long since abandoned humanity to its fate. 

The skies no longer wept in sorrow. They had no more tears to shed. It would be winter, if not for the fact Terra’s climate was nearly as dead as its oceans, and the Imperial Palace was insulated against such natural wonders. There would be no natural ice upon Terra’s surface, for now and forevermore. The only weak flicker of nature’s dying grasp was the slowly spreading moonlight, hovering with marked fickleness as an icy moon rose above the palace. Before it’s single-eyed gaze, the world sharpened and illuminated itself, the ghostly light painting it silver in all its ancient splendor.

It was through this nostalgic haze did the concubine toss back another cup, wineglass crinkling underneath gene-enhanced fingers that could have crushed a man’s throat. The hulking behemoth of a man would have looked intimidating under any other circumstance, even when draped in nothing but silken regalia and stripped of his weapons and armor. Not so long ago, his stern features had been set in an unsmiling glower as the serfs had massaged and groomed and dressed him for his lord, the Emperor's favorite concubine barely resisting as they draped him in silk and threaded scarves around his muscled frame. He hadn’t struggled when they had pulled on jewelry pretentious enough to bankrupt an entire star sector and veiled him in such golden extravagance it was nearly ostentatious. He would have protested against such attire(it was not practical, it was not even easy to move around in, how was he supposed to defend his lord in such ridiculousness?), but the serfs were already tugging the much larger Custodian towards his appointment. Their movements had been harried in their scampering as they had ushered him before a feast fit for an emperor, the Custodian now perfectly prepared to magnificence as if he had been any other item now artfully arranged for their Emperor’s amusement.

Yet still as majestic as ever even when draped in silks instead of auramite, Constantin Valdor was as resplendent as ever as he helped himself to another drink, the liquid searing his throat as his Custodian biology attempted to make sense of what he was drinking. His gene-enhanced form shuddered slightly as the liquid seared his insides, flesh and cells unable to comprehend what foreign substance could be strong enough to bypass his innate resilience.  

Such indulgence would out of character for the Captain-General, but the hour of restraint had long since passed, such reservations simply ceased to matter when the clock ticked on and on and on yet, whereas the hands turned and the sand slipped through the hourglass, his lord and master had never even appeared. It was possible that such a thing had simply slipped His mind, however impervious as it was, and left Valdor sitting there, alone, half-slumped over his...seventeenth? Eighteenth? bottle of the finest wine within the Imperium. 

At this point, they might as well give him the entire Imperial Palace's cellar. 

The serfs and servants and servitors still scurried for the aborted appointment, and the Captain-General watched them with the dull impartiality of cold detachment, the alcohol wrought haze having thankfully having numbed the cold humiliation of the Emperor’s abandonment to muteness. 

Still holding the wineglass in a crushing grip, Valdor idly wondered who could sharing the Emperor’s bed as of this moment. Who had been the lucky concubine chosen instead of him? Ra, for his humanity? Kadai? Saturnalia? Perhaps even Diocletian, as feisty as he was? Perhaps tonight the Emperor wanted a challenge instead of Valdor’s mute obedience. 

The Captain-General let his gaze linger upon the wineglass, now slowly being refilled by the hand of a Lucifer Black. Briefly, their eyes met, and the guardsman flinched when he noted Valdor’s piercing glare upon his, however dulled by wine that gaze was. The Lucifer Black dropped his eyes, and his hands shook, spilling a neat drop of red liquid along the side of the glass. Neither of them comments. Valdor only made a noncommittal noise as he dismissed the guardsman, gaze travelling onto the serfs still hurriedly running through their preparations as if they truly expected the Emperor to ever arrive. Valdor took a sip of the wine. And then another. Because why not? He long since knew the bitter truth the servants didn’t. 

The Emperor would not arrive today. Valdor knew that even as he accompanied them and waited for a master that would never return. The Emperor would never be here now, not in one hour, not in two, not when He had already chosen another concubine over him. 

Such indulgence would be impossible to fathom under other circumstances. Yet Valdor found no reason to refuse as he beckoned for the guardsman to approach again, waiting for a refill with endless patience and a serenity that tasted bitter.

The Emperor had taken the emotions of jealousy and envy and carved them out of his chest years ago. In fact, He had even taken the memories of desire itself and torn them out of His perfect creation, had drained away as much of his humanity and conscience as He pleased. Even now, lost in drunken reflection, Valdor found it impossible to even feel a twinge of loss or sympathy for his condition, had found it so unspeakably strange and incomprehensible. Such programming was wired into his literal bones, singed into the very fabric of his soul and shackled into the chains of his mind. There was no greater pleasure than serving his master, if only because he could feel nothing else otherwise. Of course, when pain and absence of pain were all you could feel, you too would gravitate against feeling nothing at all. 

The Lucifer Black seemed no longer frightened of Valdor’s presence, although the short glances he gave the Custodian were now full of wariness and guarded observation. Valdor ignored him, more out of the fact he knew the guardsman wanted to talk to him no more than he desired to initiate a conversation. Instead, they both watched the wine refill in a wineglass that would soon crack from Valdor’s grip upon it, and when it was full, the Lucifer Black stepped back without a word. 

The wine was supposed to be the finest in the Imperium, yet acting as a connoisseur of wine was the last thing upon his half-dazed mind as Valdor mused upon the hollow ache upon his chest, the strange withdrawal he felt upon his master’s abandonment. It was the unpleasant sensation of betrayal, a deep-seated ache in the absence of his normally iron-clad duty. The liquid was searing as he downed another cup of the Imperium’s finest spirits. 

His master wasn’t here. And the Emperor most likely would not appear tonight, or even tomorrow. Right as of this moment, He was most likely enjoying His time with another Custodian, perhaps humoring Ra, perhaps listening to Diocletian, perhaps even doing both in their company.

The thought was no consolation. The fact that his brothers were accompanying the Emperor while Valdor tried not to rip the sheer silken attire surrounding his muscled form did nothing to aid the Captain-General. While Valdor was no longer capable of jealousy, he was not yet quite ready to let go of the closest thing he had for pain in the face of this coldly blunt rejection. He was not yet ready to… forgive? Forgive, perhaps? Was that the word? Was he still capable of such an action, stripped of humanity as he was?No, Valdor believed not. To forgive would be to imply the Emperor had done wrong. To forgive would be to imply that there was a sin that needed forgiving. And the Custodian found himself unable to hold the Emperor to His sins, to His great mistakes and misconceptions. It was simply beyond him, quite literally unable to summon the hatred required for even such a small action. 

The Emperor had carved out his ability to feel such poisoned luxuries long ago.

And thus, you cannot forgive someone you could not even blame in the first place. 

There was no scapegoat, no one else to blame as Valdor raised the cup to his lips and drank from the finest wines in the Imperium. The Captain-General hung draped in the finest silks of Terra, and lounging within the finest Palace to have ever been graced by Mankind, and yet nursing the dull pain who refused to drown beneath endless drinks and the finest of liquor the Imperium had to offer. The liquid was searing yet numbing upon his tongue, yet he had accustomed himself to its taste with surprising efficiency.

Such human revelations were not supposed to be part of his duty, and would not be part of his duty. He was to serve in all regards, and so be it. So be it if the Emperor has another concubine in His mind, it was not his duty to intervene after all. This had, of course, happened multiple times in the past, and doubtlessly would continue in the future.

But if that was the case, why was he so rankled over his master’s absence? Why would he desire Him so?

Valdor’s grip tightens once more upon the wineglass at the echoing of his own thoughts, unable to completely drown out sorrows long since assumed lost to him. 

Sorrow. What an ugly word. 

Thanks to the Emperor he no longer held the capacity to feel in any defined form anymore, and if he could, it would be better to leave him to the illusion that he couldn’t. The wineglass cracks underneath his force, finally giving away, shards of glass normally unable to pierce Custodian flesh suddenly driven into skin and muscle by the sheer strength of Valdor’s grip. 

The Lucifer Black that had been preparing to refill the glass utters a sharp cry of surprise at the shattering, flinching at the Custodian’s sudden motion.

“And so be it.” Valdor growled aloud, his words surprisingly clear and sharp despite the inebriation that had overtaken him. The guardsman flinched and looked up in surprise, partially due to the fact Valdor had seemed to speak to him, partially due to the fact the Custodian’s piercing gaze was fixated on…something. Something not quite within the room with them right as of this moment, something he himself possibly could not name. Valdor’s cold gaze settles upon him for a moment and the guardsman’s hand trembles slightly upon his pitcher, but does not falter. He only watches the Custodian with a mixture of caution, surprise, and carefully guarded curiosity at the strange, somehow dark expression which briefly flitted across the much larger Custodian's features, before it was gone once more.

Valdor finally drops his gaze as he turned away, expression listless and unreadable, the shards of glass of what had once been a fine wineglass now piercing through his skin and the silken fabric. With surprising calmness, he sets down the broken glass, silently savoring - or as much as a being like him could savor - in few sensations he was yet capable of feeling: the bitter sting of pain, if only for a few moments before it was gone. Almost intangible once more in an eternity of unending invulnerability. Instead, he only draws back in silent almost-disappointment, watching the guardsman move to sweep up the broken pieces, soft footsteps rustling against lavish carpets as the pale-faced Lucifer Black busied himself with the task. When it came to the ranks of the golden, the still-living immortalized dead, silence was a virtue, and it was one they could easily afford.

He does not acknowledge the Lucifer Black, and offered him not even a single word as he turns and strides out of the room, his gait slightly lacking the usual eerie grace with which the Captain-General usually displaced himself with, an uncharacteristic alcohol-bourne clumsiness gracing his every step. The truth of his destination, he was not yet certain of, even though he knew he must find somewhere else to go. Somewhere further away, somewhere where his master wouldn’t be able to look upon him with disappointment and rebuke.

The Lucifer Black only watches him leave, the closest to vulnerable the Custodian would ever be, titanic form casting shadows against the silverware and the shattered glass. It was only when Valdor’s hulking silhouette was gone did the guardsman release a soft, exhausted sigh of worried relief.

Even alone, Valdor could not find it in himself to regret. His steps beat a hollow rhythm, the sound echoing off the walls, a soft, frozen heartbeat of entombed steel. He should have accepted what he had always known. It would be for the best, yes. He was nothing more than a tool of the Emperor’s, His loyal servant and Captain-General, created to please His every whim. Nothing more. Nothing less. Who was he to disagree?

He had no more tears to shed in the face of this, no more sorrow to feel. Such emotions had been ripped from him long ago. He was Valdor, the Captain-General of the Custodes. He was Valdor, the Emperor’s favorite, or he should have been. He was Valdor, and as he spasmodically leaned against a gaping doorway, trying to rationalize how he wasn’t drunk, how he wasn’t actually drunkenly leaning against a frame never meant to support his weight, he coldly explained away how the Emperor’s absence tonight should have been no surprise. He was busy, of course He was. He had other matters greater than a single Custodian to attend to, it would have been thoughtless of him to assume otherwise. And of course, His eye strayed from him to Ra. Or Diocletian. Or Khorarinn. There were ten thousand of them, it would have been arrogance on his part to assume otherwise. How foolish of him.

Shaking his head, hearing the decorative bangles wound into his neural implants jangle, the Captain-General’s gaze aimlessly wandered to the full moon still shining through the gaps of the Imperial Palace’s view. It was a single, baleful eye glaring down upon him, casting its silver gaze upon the emptied floor, upon the pillars and murals half-shrouded in shadows. Its languid light was almost a mockery to the hollow ache in his bones, an empty cry, an emperor’s fickle favor made grand and hollow in the taunting moonlight.

Slumping against the wall when he heard the door’s hinges begin to creak from his sustained weight, the Custodian’s sharp gaze wanders from the pool of liquid moonlight to the sight of the Palace’s gardens, in full bloom, yet so artificially sickly sweet even the Emperor’s gene-wonders could not have removed their deviance. A stray finger catches onto one of the golden bangles, and Valdor’s cold expression never falters as he grasps onto one of its latches and harshly tugs downwards. His gaze never even flickers in intensity, glaring back at the moon with enough frost to rival even the abyss of space itself as the bangle was forcibly wrenched from delicate neural implants, the sharp sting of pain drowned out without even a flinch. Valdor grasps the removed bangle, the pinpricks of Custodian blood already fading as his regeneration takes hold, the Captain-General quietly glaring back at the soulless moon that would never offer solace. The way it came to him, bubbling out just from under the surface like some entombed corpse from beneath the grave, the revelation itself was almost cruel. And made all the more taunting by the fickle light of a hollow night. Yet, it was not particularly surprising. No, not at all.

What is the meaning of glory, what is the purpose of prosperity? What of pride, what of greatness, what of even loyalty itself, when he could not even fathom betrayal itself? His hand tenses and relaxes as if in sync with his rapid thoughts, crushing the gold of the bangle now and imprinting the soft metal with his clawed grip.

It was hard to imagine a time before then, a time before when he still felt memories of avarice, of greed, of loathing, of joy itself, reduced to half-snuffed candles flickering in a dream.

The bangle snaps under the force of his grip. Uncaringly, he tosses it aside. It clatters as it falls.

Of course, His eye had strayed from him to Ra.

Of course.

Transfixed, utterly inebriated, and watching the stars that were never truly humanity’s birthright, the first Custodian tried to pretend that his Emperor’s cold dismissal wasn’t so terrible, so visceral, that even immortals knew pain.

~~~

"Love and hate are vast

Ask, will king re-love

Chrysanths Terrace reflects moon

Who knows how lonely my heart

Drunken in king's arms

dreaming of love” - Drunken Concubine

[amanesknife]

Yall it’s been half a week, I’ve finished 3 other manga, but the Concubine Walkthrough brainrot is still here 😭

I’m simply not over Sunshine? Between Lili and Dooyak, the story pretty much tells you never to trust appearances so I had a feeling he had his reasons. But I wish I did hate him when I was reading so I wouldn’t be so hung up about it.

At the end of the day, yeah, they all get their happy ending but man. Did they have to basically make a more heart-numbing version of that reddit lamp storu

[agroupofcrows]

what i didn’t say is that i think there’s a real chance zura would become saionji’s girlfriend m butterfly style

[nagisa2345-blog]

It's rumored that the King is cold and unfeeling, how come he blushes wh...

I so really really really really love this whole entire video, etc On The Whole Entire YouTube App, etc!!!!!!

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[add1ctedt0you]

Motherhood: Story of Yanxi palace

[avo-kat]

me:

me: im reading webnovels for fun and escapism

webnovels: News came from the capital that Sheng Hong achieved an “Excellent” again for his official performance assessment and was entitled as Langzhong (TL: name of an official) under the Ministry of Works (Gongbu), a fifth ranked official responsible for the construction and renovation of the country’s infrastructure, at least an official in the capital.

[consortmadness]

𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞/𝐊𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬, 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 (𝟐/?)

𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐇𝐮𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐧 (𝟏𝟕𝟏𝟏- 𝟐𝟓 𝐅𝐞𝐛 𝟏𝟕𝟒𝟓)

*𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐫*