#I am once again saying: emperor’s new clothes

[charcubed]

.

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part Two

Here is Part 2!

Na Baron Feys Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

Cannot wait to tell my version of their story, we are getting closer to the smutty fun part of it.

All feedback is welcome <3

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

1.200 Words

_______________

The sounds of the hall are muffled. This seems to be a contest between you and Na Baron on who will pull away first.

His unreadable gaze challenging you to uncover what lies beneath. The moment is shattered when the Emperor's voice cuts through. Your father speaks for you. 

"Please excuse my daughters' shyness, most esteemed Emperor." The Emperor's laughter brings you back to reality, and you leave your soon-to-be husband's eyes to look at your hands, trying to concentrate. The Emperor seems amused by your behavior: 

"You're not the first young lady to just stand in front of me and not be able to say a word. May I present Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen and his uncle, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen of Giedi Prime" There seems to be kindness in his tone. It gives you the confidence to look up again: "It is an honor to be in your presence, Emperor. I thank you with all my heart for granting me this match."

 A bubbling, sour sound fills the room: "I am not so sure you will be grateful once you are married to my nephew"

It is absurd to you now how you could not register the source of the remark: Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, a grotesque floating figure, draped in black cloth to give him a regal and imposing effect, hovers between the Empress's throne and the Na Baron. He also seems smooth and pale but lacks the grace of a warrior. He looks more like a dark cloud, sucking the energy from his surroundings. The black orbs attached to his body make a faint clicking sound. You try to make a mental note to read his chapter first, once you are back in your room, 

"My trust lies in the wisdom of the Emperor and the decision of my esteemed father, Duke Leto Atreides." You make sure to sound as loud as clear as you can. The Baron seems displeased by your defiance, but Feud Rautha can't hold back a slight upward curl of his lips. You know that you cannot appear meek in front of him, so you are satisfied with your impression for now. 

„Now that you are introduced, you are granted to escort your betrothed to the celebration of my daughters and her brothers wedding. You are also permitted to spend some time together, of course in the presence of an adequate chaperone“ And having said that the emperor leaves the room, followed by the floating Baron and your father. 

You can feel Feyd Rauthas looking at you again, he doesn't seem to hold back at all, his eyes brushing over your dress, almost as if he were undressing you with his eyes. There is something alluring about your betrothed. His features are clear, his skin pure white, and with his black uniform he seems to be lit from within. You have yet to exchange a word with him and already feel a gravitational pull between you. As he approaches, you curtsy and bow your head. 

"It is a pleasure to escort you to your brothers' celebrations, my lady," his voice seems a little raspy and deep. He extends his arm to you as if in invitation, and you feel his lean muscles through the fabric of his shirt. His arm is warmer than you expected and you try not to worry about the cold of your own fingers. 

"We will soon be husband and wife. I hope you are ready for all the new experiences that will come with it.“ The promise of unexplored pleasures hinted at in his words—all of it pulls you into a vortex of excitement and desire.

"I am sure we both need to be prepared. I am to follow you to your world and your customs, but rest assured, I intend to bring some of my own into this union," you say in a playful tone.

"I look forward to learning more about them," he says almost in a whisper, coming closer to your ear and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

You reach the feast and he leads you to your place at the table.

"My lady," he gives you a slightly crooked smile, takes your hand and raises it to his lips. Just the slightest touch of your knuckles and he's gone, leaving you as nervous as you were before and yet as fascinated as you could imagine from such a brief interaction.

________

The wedding party goes on for hours after Paul and Irulan exchange their vows, with music and wine flowing, and you see Paul beaming at his bride, her happiness spreading to the guests, and yet you feel so distant. You never feel free of Feyd's gaze, and every time you look in his direction, he seems to be looking back at you. 

After the feast, you are a bundle of nerves and too tired to care. After changing into your nightgown and dismissing your ladies-in-waiting, you fall into a dreamless sleep. A sudden knock on the door awakens you. For a few seconds you are confused as to why you are not at home. The knock doesn't sound familiar, but you open the door hesitantly. Na Baron stands in the doorway.

"I couldn't go to sleep without talking to you," he says, and there is something in the tone of his voice that both entices and annoys you. Again his eyes wonder at your body and you feel self-conscious about not being properly dressed. 

"May I ask..." and before you can answer his is already in your room. He walks around your room and sees Irulan's gift on the table.

"You seem more ready than I expected," he says with a small laugh. 

"Are you?" you ask, unable to push the thought of his rumored concubines from your mind. "You know we will both be in trouble if anyone sees you, Na Baron.“

"I don't think so. No one saw me and I am sure you want to tell someone," he replies, taking a few steps in your direction and stopping close to you. You try to remember your training and yet you feel this ridiculous longing to touch him. A man you don't know at all, a man whose cruelty you've read about and been told to see as part of the greater Bene Gesserit plan. 

"I beg you to leave," you say, but he doesn't seem convinced: his hand goes to your jaw, slides down and then suddenly the soft touch turns into a grip around your neck, his lips meet yours with undeniable force, his tongue finds its way into your mouth and devours it, his other hand presses you against him and you feel his excitement: Before you can collect yourself, a small moan escapes your lips. You look into his eyes again and see a glint of victory in them. 

"As you wish, my princess. Let's be decent and civilized," he says, obviously satisfied with his conquest, and leaves your room without a sound. As he vanishes into the night, you are left with thoughts of what kind of game you have begun to play.

[anxious-witch]

Okay. Long awaited analysis of Jure's pictures. As always, this is entirely subjective and I don't claim to be 100% right about ny interpretations. Apologies if I am a bit scatterbrained, I just had to write this today despite vibrating out if my skin.

Anyway, let's get to it

So I went ahead and rearranged the pictures in a way that I think fit together.

We start off with these two(sorry for blurryness, it just turned out like this when I cropped them). But funnily enough, I think we have Jure as the opposite of everyone else. Where the rest seemed to gain protection and safety from clothes, I feel like Jure feels stiffled by them.

In these two, he looks most lonely and disconnected than in any other photos from the photoshoot. In the first one, he is in a position akin to the one we saw him before, in that box. Like a cat lounging on the floor. But he is looking away, giving a picture a sense of loneliness, of disconnection. And even before we see him with a cigarette in picture two, there is an ash tray to indicate the smoking.

Then immediately following is this. Jure begins to take off his clothes, his pants and underwear pulled down messily, he is pulling his sweater up. He is still smoking here, but he is also looking directly at the camera. His eyes are frame by a dark eyeliner.

When I was looking at the pictures for the first time, I didn't get the connection until I saw this picture. I am gonna jump the gun and say that I think this set is literally meant to serve as a seduction. Who did they vote for the most likely to sleep with a fan? Jure. Who said hookup when everyone else said relationship? Jure again.

My interpretation is, as crude as it sounds, is that he is connecting with the viewer here through sex and seduction.

Here we have this again. He is only in his underwear and wearing a jacket. I'd even go as far to speculate that it's not meant to be his jacket. Because he is looking to feel closer to the person he is seducing. He'll put on makeup and their clothes, all for the show, all to be seen and to seduce. And I think that's what this photoshoot is, a way for Jure to be seen in a new light.

Interstingly, he seems to have mostly open body language so far in all pictures. In this one he seems slightly more closed off, with his knees pulled closer to his chest and his arm resting on top of them.

Then in this set, we have what I like to think of as "the morning after". There is no makeup, there is no clothes. Jure looks almost superior in the first picture. He reminds of Roman Emperor reclining.

Romans used to have parties, usually reserved only for men, where the position you got on the reclining bed could speak of your position. Here we have Jure alone, in the center. This is his moment and he is completely relaxed, completely in power. He isn't shying away from the camera, there is not shyness due to his almost naked state. Like someone would, after a suceesful seduction.

In the second picture, that's even more openly expressed. His head is fully turned to the camera, his eyes even more intense. It's as if he is inviting us in, drawing us closer. I can't tell if there is a different balnket altogether or if it's shifted and the end of it seems like a slightly different material.

Either way, I can't see anything but him pulling a lover closer once again.

Third picture is....well. Obviously there are certainly other interpretations, but to go with the obvious, Jure seems to be very open here, even has his eyes closed and that paired up with the way his body is positioned implies pleasure to me. Which once again plays into the whole set being about seduction, and about connection that he seems to gain from physical closeness.

In all three pictures, Jure is wearing a chain necklace around his neck. Interestingly enough, he doesn't wear them in the first set. Perhaps implying this is something new he decided to adorn himself with? Or a steel he wears underneath?

Then we have shirtless Jure, and an reappearance if a chain necklace. He is even openly acknowledging the necklace by touching it. With the addition of Damon's quote: "your art intertwined with my art", I think we can once again reaffirm this is a new way Jure wants to be seen. He is an art all of his own, even when surrouded by the art of the rest of his bandmates, he gets to be a central piece in this one. Yet-in the two pictures on the right, he has closed off body language.

Perhaps he is still unsure of the new role he wants. His gaze is softer, less intense. He is letting us take him in as he is. Which is clearly difficukt for him, hence mire closed off body language but none the less, he is still showing us that.

As always, feel free to add in on these, I feel like I missed on a lot of things bc of everything they dropped on us today but damn. I love this photoshoot sm

[zhounauts]

THE PALACE ALMANAC :: FEATURE 2 :: KNIGHT! PARK JONGSEONG warnings: cursing, embarrassment:: pairing: knightcommander!jay x aristocrat!reader

THE HALLWAY IS COMPLETELY DARK as you peek from behind a wall. you shuffle as quietly as you can in the large shoes and baggy clothing you had taken from some passing maids in the palace.

it’s a contrast to how you were dressed just half and hour ago, a glittering and extravagant ball gown for the ball the emperor had thrown to commemorate the end of the war against the monsters and demons that plagued the lands around the kingdom. you had been going to balls your whole life, yet that still didn’t change the fact they were incredibly boring and by the third hour of the ball you were ready to dip.

and that was exactly what you did. after making sure your father was busy and wouldn’t go searching for you, you quickly made your move, sneaking away through the back door of the ball room, tracking down some maids, and now exiting through the courtyard.

the night air is cold, and the three moons of the empire are distant and not incredibly bright. despite this, the excitement coursing through your veins of experiencing a commoner festival keeps you warm enough, and you scale the wall. you reach into the cloaks pocket, grabbing onto a rope that you had bribed the maids for after tossing them your pair of 18 carat gold, diamond encrusted earrings to them. safe to say, that without a word they had dashed away and got you everything you asked for without questioning you and then skipped away with their new wealth.

what you don’t expect however, is as you throw the rope over the courtyard wall, you hear footsteps behind you and then it goes quiet behind you. what the fuck— and then there’s something at your neck. something cold. something sharp.

“don’t move,” a man says, “or i’ll slice your neck”

you freeze in surprise, too shocked to move or say anything. “what are you doing on palace grounds? you aren’t supposed to be here are you?”

“no i—“

“who are you?” he hisses.

“i’m-“

“why are you here?”

“will you let me talk!?” you exclaim annoyed.

“i think your forgetting who has the weapon,” he deadpans.

“oh.” you mutter, “well that’s true…”

“take your hood off,” he commands.

“put your sword down,”

“take your hood off,” he demands again, not relenting. you bite the inside of your cheek. if it this man was a guard, he would definitely report it to your father, you’d be punished, and then you wouldn’t be able to set foot out of the estate for months. so you didn’t let it happen.

“i can’t!”

“what?” the man asks in disbelief.

“i’m….insecure!?” you spit out.

“….what?” the man asks again, “i don’t want to repeat myself, i am the one with the upper hand here,”

“no please i’ll uhm— surrender!”

“take your hood off,” he demands once again.

“i can’t!”

“i don’t care if you’re insecure!?” he asks confused.

“but you sound so—“ you start, your desperate, embarrassed and on the verge of stabbing your self, yet you still blurt out possibly the most stupid thing known to existence. “so cool! and uhm handsome! i feel insecure, i can’t take the hood off,”

now there’s pure silence behind you, the man seemingly so flabbergasted that he can’t even make any noise. and then before you know it the hood is ripped off and your yanked back by the man, you shut your eyes and try to hide your face. unfortunately, the man’s seen you and he exclaims in shock.

“lady jeong!?”

“nope! not me!” you exclaim, “just a maid!”

“i think your family crest is a dead giveaway, my lady,”

“please don’t tell my dad! do not tell duke jeong, please,” you look at the man, trying to forget your embarrassment earlier. the man is in fact actually very handsome, a little bit too fine for a palace guard but you can’t focus on that now. you watch as he sighs.

“my lady, i won’t tell your father,” he starts, “we should head back to the banquet,”

“i don’t have my dress,” you mutter,

“what?”

“my dress is gone,”

“how!?” he exclaims.

“I threw it in a closet okay!? I wanted out!”

“Now why would you—” the man sighs again, “my lady, you are not in any state to head back into the ball like this,”

“well—” you stop, not knowing what to say, only sheepishly looking down at the ground. you were known as the dignified, mature daughter of duke jeong, and now here you were acting like an actual dingus in front of this man.

“maybe. . .” the man stop, “i could—” he stops again.

“what?” you ask.

“if the town square is where you want to go. . .i can take you,” he says, “that might not be a good idea actually never—”

“oh. my. god. YES!” you exclaim, grabbing onto the mans arms. they’re strong and steady and you see the man flinch in surprise. “please! sir! whoever you are!”

“you don’t even know who i am!?” he asks offended.

“Uhm. . .no? sorry are you one of the guards at the estate? i spend too much time studying, sorry. . .” you apologize.

“i’m sir jay, the kingdom’s night commander,”

“oh,” you gape. you stare at the dude, jay in disbelief before snapping your fingers, “right! i knew that!”

“my lady. . .it’s okay,” he answers.

“no. no it is not. i was just attending the ball in your honor and didn’t even recognize you.” you murmur embarrassed, “man my dad would actually be disappointed in me for this,”. jay lets out a laugh, it’s light and unique, and from his chest.

“well, my lady, would you like to head out or not?” your eyes sparkle in excitement.

“yes, yes absolutely! thank you so much sir jay!” jay extends his arm towards you, and you place your hand in his. he brings it to his mouth, kissing it and bowing in front of you. you feel the back of your neck heat up at the action, and you bite the inside of your cheek. many lords and sir’s had done the same thing to you over your life, yet jay doing it made you flustered. he looks you straight in the eye and you awkwardly look away, taking your hand out of his and fixing your hair.

“am i too. . .cool and handsome?”

“aw fuck you!” you exclaim, whipping around, leaving him behind you laughing. and as he laughs, you can feel a smile breaking from your own face, before you join in with him, laughing underneath the stars.

taglist @soobincantswim @firstclassjaylee @yizhoutv @xuimhao @thesassy-mia @k-films

taglist is open!

a/n so i hated the original one i posted and then realized it was only HALF of the story. . embarrassment slapped me like a truck fr ngl

[thefreakandthehair]

I am once again thinking about an AU

Specifically a selkie Steve

Don’t get me wrong, I love a good werewolf Steve (get it, hairy beast, the hair, harrington) because protective mom Steve is just (insert emperors new groove meme here)

But! Selkie Steve, who’s mom is a Selkie and his dad has her pelt so she can’t leave him even when she hates him for constantly being unfaithful. And his pelt is locked up in his father’s safe, a way to control him because obviously he needs to uphold their family’s image while they’re gone and he needs a threat to do a good job

But when he gets kicked out, his father throwing his pelt at him and telling him to get lost, he never wants to see him again, and he doesn’t know where to go but it’s imperative he NEVER lets anyone near his pelt because he can’t be held captive like that again (oh hello trauma response)

No one knows, of course, because he can’t be a freak, even if he knows none of them would ever think that because their friend is a literal experiment with super powers, but like he can’t logic his way out of fear, not when he’s been raised to know he’s a monster because of what he is

Except he falls in love and he’s terrified because he wants to trust Eddie, who’s sweet and a freak but proud and who would protect him because he stands up for all the freaks. But he can’t because his brain doesn’t care about logic, doesn’t care that Eddie wouldn’t hurt him

But one night he’s so tired, he’s exhausted, training to be an emt is hard and he misses Robin because she’s at school and yeah, they talk every day but it’s not the same as when he could spend all day side by side with her (she misses him too and never misses their scheduled phone call time (at least an hour long) because I love their codependency and they’re definitely like those bonded kittens that you have to adopt both together)

But he’s so tired that he forgets his coat on the arm of the couch

He sleeps in late and Eddie, up early because he was so excited planning a new campaign that he never actually went to sleep, sees this beautiful, soft, furry looking coat. And part of him wants to just bury his face in it, because he knows it’ll smell like Steve and also he has lots of impulses about touching things that are soft, but something tells him not to. So he smooths it out where it’s a little wrinkled, but leaves it right where Steve left it

When Steve wakes up to a note from eddie saying he went to the store and will be back soon, and finds his pelt still there, right where he left it but neater now, he panics a little. Except. Eddie could have taken it, he’s taken other clothing (borrowed - technically, sort of, he doesn’t really give it back so much as Steve takes it back knowing full well he’ll borrow other stuff soon enough) but he left it there.

So he tests him again. And again. I read a story I forget where (probably here) about a Selkie leaving her pelt on a chair over and over before demanding in tears why the other woman won’t take it and keep her and that’s exactly the angst I want for them. He demands to know why Eddie won’t keep him, what isn’t good enough

And like that other story (folktale?) Eddie says he doesn’t want to keep Steve, he wants him to stay on his own accord, his own choice

And then the pelt goes into the closet, not a safe, because it’s Steve’s choice and he can go (but why would he want to?)

(Eddie does end up burying his face in the pelt at one point, it smells like Steve and the ocean (ignore that there’s no oceans nearby there’s a lake it’s fine) and it’s soft, but he still prefers to bury his face in Steve’s chest)

KAT I AM SO SORRY I MISSED THIS LAST WEEK! your brain is cooking up the most incredible, well-thought out, creative AU's and I'm sorry but you're gonna have to write at LEAST one of them?! like how does your brain DO THIS?!

[auspex]

VtM Fangfest 2024 Prompt 5: The Emperor

Hello! Here is my fifth fic for Fangfest 2024 :)

All my fics will be about characters that are previously established, so you might not have context for everything mentioned or hinted at within :( Feel free to reach out to ask I love explaining!

I've never really posted my writing before so be kind!

my first fic is here

my second fic is here

my third fic is here

my fourth fic is here

This fic is about Mark my Tremere OC meeting his so-called sire for the first time. :)

Trudging up the stairs to his apartment felt surreal after the night Mark had just been through. In the past 6 hours, Mark had learned he was a part of kindred society, met the Prince of that society, almost died running an errand for this prince, and then almost died in a coup where that prince had been overthrown and a new one took his place. 

Oh, and he was technically dead already. 

Slumping his shoulders in relief, Mark opened the door to his apartment. Upon opening the door and seeing his kitchen and living area, he tenses once again. 

It was not messy as he left it, but instead, pristine, spotless from top to bottom, with a slight smell of lemon. Was the carpet always that white? And it was not just cleaned: The bulletin board was emptied; the fridge had nothing on it. Compared to how the rest of his night had gone, this was certainly not the strangest thing that had happened. But it was quite unsettling. 

Now searching, worried, and paranoid, he checked the bedroom next. It was also deep cleaned. Searching further, the closet had his clothes, but not most of his partner’s, and it had boxes Mark did not recognize - to investigate later. The large bed was made perfectly, though only one pillow rested on the frame, not the usual two. 

He checked the bathroom down the hall. Again, perfectly clean. The mirror was flawless, and he caught sight of his face, his dark circles darker than he had ever seen, as if he had been up for many nights in a row. His beard was perfectly cut like his short brown hair. Though he had already discovered that he did not need them, he kept his glasses on: clear square frames that helped distract from the dark circles. 

His appearance shook him for a moment, but he did not linger long. There was only one more room to check. He opened the door to the second-bedroom-turned-office. 

This room was also cleaned; the random stacks of papers were gone, and the bookshelf was organized. 

But Mark was not alone.

The pink chair at his desk turned around slowly, and facing him was another. Not his boyfriend - a stranger, who immediately captured his attention.

He was a stranger, but Mark felt he knew him. 

His clothes were odd - a black suit top melding into a dark blue robe; the tie was a deep blue. His black hair and beard were perfectly cut. He sat with his hands formally folded in his lap. 

“Good evening, Mark.” The man in the chair spoke incredibly slowly. Mark hung on to every word. “My name is Julius.” He met Mark’s eyes, and looked deeply. 

Julius’s eyes were shockingly bright red, but Mark found them entrancing. His voice was oddly familiar, and beautiful to his ears. Everything about him was beautiful, really. 

And though he could not remember ever meeting Julius, Mark was not disturbed to find him here, in his home, uninvited. 

Mark swallowed, unsure of what to say. Thankfully, the man continued. “I am your sire.” 

A few hours ago, Mark had learned the meaning of that word, and scrambled to figure out where to begin. Before Mark could speak however, Julius spoke once again, agonizingly slow, still pausing after every word. Mark wouldn’t dream of interrupting. “I know you have a lot of questions. First, drink this.” His clasped hands unfolded to hold out a small vial filled with red. 

Blood. 

Without pause, Mark took the vial and drained it. It was delicious; rich, deep, strangely reminiscent of nectar or fruit, and better than any blood he could remember drinking thus far.  

“How does it taste?” 

Mark, returning the empty vial to Julius, careful not to touch his hand in reverence, replied. “It tasted good.” He felt like that was a stupid reply. I can figure out something to say that’s more intelligent than that, surely, and Julius thankfully waited as Mark thought. “And this might sound odd, but like fruit.” Ugh, that was even stupider, even if it is true. 

Julius simply replied, “Noted.” He continued. “Now, with that done. As my childe, there are expectations for you.” 

Mark could not break his gaze. He would do anything he asked; he wanted to meet these expectations desperately - there, a purpose, something that makes sense in the insanity. 

“We will have a close relationship.” As if knowing Mark’s earlier thoughts on his appearance, he clarified. “A professional one. You were embraced for a reason; I selected you.”

Embarrassed, but still firmly in an odd state of awe, Mark replied. “Of course. What would you have me do?”

“You will be my eyes in the city, for both the Camarilla and, once you join, in the chantry. Weekly, you will write reports to me, going over anything notable. Start by describing the kindred you worked with last night, your coterie. I will send you more details on what I wish to know.”

He gestured towards the table, which Mark now noticed had a silver bowl on it. “Should you have sensitive information or need me immediately, you can use this. Simply fill it with water, think of my eyes, and spill some of your vitae within.”

Julius had yet to break eye contact with Mark. He felt his gaze intensely. “Do not use this lightly.”

“I will, of course, ask you to investigate various subjects, or perform other tasks. You will be joining the local chantry, properly introducing yourself to the Tremere kindred of Detroit. And, I expect you to learn the art of Thaumaturgy, and have arranged for you to be taught there.”

He paused, as if examining Mark. Again, like he could read Mark’s thoughts, he answered Mark’s unspoken question - who was he? “I am the Tremere Lord of this area; specifically, Michigan, Indiana, Ohio, and Kentucky. All of the Regents of the chantries in these states report to me.” Another brief pause at another unspoken question, as he gazed into Mark’s eyes. “And yes, I also do have other childer, though because I am making Detroit my place of residence, you and I will work together more often than I do with most of them.” 

Mark surprised himself by not feeling fear, but excitement at the thought. He swore Julius almost smiled. He wanted to do well for Julius. But, what of his life? His missing boyfriend Sammy, and his job?

“As for your personal life…” he trailed off for a moment. “You will continue working at your college; those arrangements have already been made. You will continue living here.”

Julius kept his face impassive as he continued. “As for… Sammy, yes? That’s what you called it? Do not worry about that. He has not been home for some time. His handler was careless. It is no matter. You can have many Sammys.”

For the first time in this conversation, Mark felt unsettled, but not quite as unsettled as one would expect to feel upon a stranger knowing your boyfriend’s pet name and referring to him as an object one could collect. And Mark did not know exactly what ‘handler’ meant, though based on how he had already seen other kindred treat humans, he knew it could not be good.  

But he swallowed those concerns, dismissing them easily. Mark simply said “Thank you.” 

Julius answered another unspoken question Mark was formulating. “What you drank was my blood, and you will drink it again, every month. It binds you to me, as you should be, as my childe and as a Tremere. I myself am bound to my sire, and we are all bound to the leaders of the Tremere, the Seven, who you should learn of, and Tremere himself. You will learn more of this later.”

“And yes, it was my voice you heard earlier. I look out for you.” 

Mark gazed at Julius for a time, and Julius never broke his gaze.

“Is there anything else important?” 

He could talk to Julius forever, but was any of it really so important as to waste his time with it? Actually, he did have one question.

“When will I see you again?” 

“Exactly a month from now. Anything else?” 

Starstruck, Mark said, “No, Julius. Thank you again.” 

Julius stood. “Very well. Have a good evening.” 

Mark watched his every step as he left the room. He walked slowly, and to Mark’s enraptured eyes, with grace. Mark listened for the outside door to close. He didn’t have to wait long.

If Mark breathed, he would have been holding his breath. He let out a sigh, not quite of relief, but of tension. He had felt so restrained, like all he did must be for Julius, but now he found himself alone, and his thoughts returned to what happened to his house and, more importantly, what had happened to its other occupant, Sampson.

[zombee]

i was a big asoiaf fan and nothing made me angrier than people saying i only didn't like game of thrones because it was "different than the books." people are saying the same shit about the new Avatar show and once again my hackles are raised. admittedly I've seen one episode, which was dogshit, but the arguments are not "here's what was good" it's "you just don't like it because it's different." false. I don't like it because it sucks. the acting sucks. the CGI sucks. the bending sucks. the script sucks. the wigs suck. there's no whimsy. there's no laughter. there's no depth. and I'm actually THRILLED! because i am anti live action adaptation of cartoons. i was hoping it was either going to be amazing or terrible, and I'm happy it's so bad. the emperor has no clothes.

[too-much-otome]

Lucifer Playlist

Link

These can be for the original game or NB. most of them fit for both. I've had the playlists for a while but recently refined them. I hope you like them!

Explanations (Excluding Character Songs):

Surface Pressure - Encanto Soundtrack

I know it's a bit too cheesy for his character, but listen to the lyrics and tell me it doesn't fit. My mans is taking care of everything. Devildom would fall apart without this man.

Lucifer - SHINee

Self indulgent and self explanatory

My Oh My - Camila Cabello, Da Baby

The beat just makes me think of him. Lyrics aren't a perfect fit but still work.

Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At The Disco

Very prideful song if you really pay attention to the lyrics. Lots of talk about royalty which is usually a good fit for him.

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE - Måneskin

We know hes a freak don't you even try to challenge me on this it's just cannon.

Daddy Issues - The Neighbourhood

*looks directly at you* 🫵🏻

S&M - Rihanna

I am once again pushing the Lucifer is a freak agenda. He is 100% into BDSM and you know it. This man loves tying his partners up, without a doubt in my mind.

Therefore I Am - Billie Eilish

Reminds me of early on when Lucifer was wary of MC or how he acts when smth goes wrong. It just gives off the confidence and obviously pride that he gives off.

Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace

I like to think of It as what Lucifer was thinking after falling or how he feels when he finally opens up to MC.

Lucifer's Waltz - Secession Studios

Self explanatory. Very pretty song! I can imagine him listening to this or it playing during a battle or smth.

Feeling Good - Michael Bublé

It's Jazzy! It's suave! It just fits!

Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

While you can probably guess why this is here, the song also talks of power and revenge in the beginning. I just think it's a good fit.

Dream On - Aerosmith

~ V I B E S ~ That guitar just makes me think of him.

Don't Go Insane - DPR IAN

It fits. I can just picture him while listening to this. Especially that part. You know the part. The one from Tiktok. We've all seen it. I can just see him smirking AGHHHHHHH

bury a friend - Billie Eilish

It's kinda dark and smooth like him. It sounds like things he'd say. It also kinda reflects how he felt about MC in the beginning, confused as to how she's so calm and collected when meeting them.

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 16 (Day 5)-Crown/Gentle

Being Emperor isn’t easy. In fact, in some ways, it kind of sucks. Part of a Martin Lives AU. Prompts by @tes-summer-fest  

Nord HoK x Martin Septim 

Warnings- pregnancy

Wordcount- ~1300

***

It was much later than he’d hoped when Martin climbed the stairs up to the Emperor’s Suite, grumbling a little at how many damned stairs were in this tower. It was too late to read Gemille her bedtime story; she’d have been put to bed a good two hours ago now. There were few things he hated more than the way this damned crown took him away from little things like reading to his daughter and tucking her in. 

Once inside the doors of the royal suite and having shut out the rest of the world, he dropped the tall, square-shouldered walk of the Emperor. Ironically, this grand and overly-sumptuous apartment was one of the few places he could just be Martin for a little while. He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. 

Gentle arms encircled him, a kiss planted on his cheek as a soft voice asked, “How did it go, love?”

“Longer than it should have. But we’ve got the dispute sorted out. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come see the new Blades taking their oaths. I really wanted to be there.”

“I know. Baurus and I handled things, don’t worry. I’m still technically a Blade myself, among all the other titles. I’m a good substitute for the Emperor when needed.”

He turned, reaching up to take her face in his hands. “Aethelfrid! Don’t say that about yourself! You are, among your other titles, Empress of Tamriel. You’re not a substitute, you’re just as important as I am. Considering how we got here, I’d say you’re more important than I am!”

She grinned. “Yeah, but you’re the Septim. Either way, it went very well. Gemille tried to stay up and wait for you, but she had a long day. She barely made it half an hour past bedtime. Come see what she got today.”

They crept over to the door leading into the nursery. Their daughter lay curled up around something wooden, her orange hair a riot around her. As she shifted, Martin got a look at what she held. 

“Is that a wooden sword?” he whispered in disbelief. 

“It is!”

“She’s three!”

“That’s probably when I got my first training sword,” Aethelfrid shrugged. “She won’t do proper lessons just yet, but she can have it and maybe we can do a few small techniques like proper grip. She’s very excited to show you.”

His face softened into a smile again, “She’s so much like you.”

“She’s more like you than you think.”

***

Once they’d come away from the nursery door, Aethelfrid took Martin’s hand and led him to another door, behind which the large bath waited. It was all prepared, enchantments keeping the water warm and inviting. As Aethelfrid pushed the robe off of his shoulders, he took off his crown, frowning at it. 

“I hate this thing,” he muttered. 

“I know, love. But we don’t need it right now.” 

He put it down on a small table, feeling the weight of it fall away. For a little while, it could. It was these few, precious moments that got him through the day, that made the weight of the crown bearable. He sighed again. 

“I didn’t even ask you how you’re feeling. I’m sorry, my heart.” He rubbed his face with the heel of his hand. 

She was still undoing and pulling off his clothes, and he reached out to the hem of her long tunic, beneath which her stomach had begun to get round again. She giggled. 

“I’m doing just fine. Feeling good. This feels as though it’ll be another strong, Septim child.” She pulled the tunic over her head. “It’s good it’s starting to show. Some of the nobles have been very pissy that we didn’t just have babies back to back to back. I think they just want to keep me busy and out of Council meetings.”

As they settled into the tub together, Aethelfrid’s strong, deft fingers began to message water and soap through Martin’s hair. He leaned back, savoring the feeling. 

“Can I tell you something, my dear?” he asked. 

“Of course.” She planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“I… I wish we could disappear somewhere. Live quiet lives, just you and me and the children. Maybe somewhere near the mountains.” He’d fallen in love with the mountains during their time at Cloud Ruler Temple. “But there’s still so much to be done, even with all the progress we’ve made.” 

Her fingers stopped scrubbing for the briefest second. “I wish we could, too. My family is from Morthal, and it's not too far from there that you could find a little spot in the mountains. Or east closer to Dawnstar. It’s about as far away from everything as you can get.”     

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Let’s retire there. Once the rebuilding’s done and we get everything back on its feet, let’s retire to Skyrim.” 

“Deal.” 

Martin helped Aethelfrid unbraid and wash her hair next. He ran a gentle comb through the flame-orange waves, wondering if their second child would also inherit this color. They made many grand plans as he worked; discussing the house they’d build and where. 

“I’d love a garden,” Martin admitted. “I had one at the chantry in Kvatch. I miss it.” Kvatch was being rebuilt, but even if a new garden was planted, he wouldn’t have the chance to do more than maybe see it. 

“I need a training yard. We also need a library.”

“Of course. And enough room for our family. You said you wanted a big one.”

“I do. It’s a Nord thing. We always have big families.”

Well, I will build the house myself to your exact measurements.”

***

Once they’d bathed, they settled down for a late-night supper. More pressing realities took over the conversation; an envoy from Mournhold arriving in two days’ time, a gala planned for the day after that. The trading guild had a petition about a contract to Hammerfell, and builders in the city wanted to meet about their progress. There was also a feast day coming up quickly, and they’d have to find the ceremonial robes to wear to the temple that day.  

It seemed never-ending, but Aethelfrid was as firm in her commitment as he, and it was less daunting with both of them facing it together. After all, they’d faced down the forces of The Dead Lands and its ruler together. Once you’ve done something like that, the mundane jobs of contracts and noble posturing seemed much less intimidating.

After dinner, they retired to their bed with a book each. Snuggling up, they did a little reading, before returning their attention to the other. 

“I’m sorry for being so grouchy,” Martin kissed his wife’s cheek softly. 

“You have a lot on your plate, love. We both do. It’s not easy. It’s a lot of pressure.”

“I really wish we could retire to the mountains.”

“We will. We’ll get things back on track and retire to Bruma. Or Morthal, or wherever you want. Falkreath is very pretty and has less snow.” 

“They’re not going to let us just leave like that.”

“When the time comes, we’ll leave before they realize. You have no idea the hidden places and trails and things I found running around doing Hero of Kvatch stuff. I mean it.”

“I would never doubt you on that. And, I hope we can take you up on it.”

“We will. I promise you that.”

***

It took Martin a long time to fall asleep that night. It seemed so impossible! That he could truly leave behind this crown and the weight it carried. But Aethelfrid had done the impossible before. Many times, in fact. He had no doubt she could do so again. One day, he told himself, once we’ve got things back in order. 

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of a little farm with a garden and a gaggle of flame-haired children. 

[pttucker]

[I've become the retired SSSSS-grade Son Wukong!!] Haven't I seen that many 'S' letters somewhere before? Even though I knew I was being taken for a ride here, I still tapped on the info tab of this chamber. And that's when I saw its introduction. – Introduction: Only I know the end of the Journey to the West.

Wow, what a totally not at all familiar title and plot.

Oh man, but them saying that they had someone they wanted to play Sun Wukong but he got delayed. 😭

And then the loooong pause after Dokja gives Sooyoung his new Modifier.

Am I reading too much into this or did they totally set this story up in the hopes that Dokja would fill the role that's so obviously his? Is Sooyoung surprised that it's not Dokja? Did her Predictive Plagiarism tell her this was the best way to find him and she's wondering what went wrong? Is the pause because she's upset and trying to decide if they should just go without him?

Or does she know it's Dokja and is wondering if he's lying or if he got a new modifier or is she deciding if she should call him out or just go along with it or...?

Ugh, both her knowing and her not knowing make sense.

It soooo seems like they have to know, though. I mean my goodness if this isn't straight up yelling directly in Dokja's face idk what is:

(This small stone monkey had a nasty habit of sacrificing himself to save other people, and many of those who received his unwanted rescue attempts ended up with psychological scars.) (Gods and Buddhas of the heavens all criticised him for it, yet that dumb rock-for-brains continued to throw his life away to save other people over and over again.) N-no, hang on a minute here. (The heaven's Great Jade Emperor and Buddha felt that they could no longer accept such actions from Sun Wukong anymore and imprisoned the Monkey King inside the stone crate under the Marble Mountain.) (And our story starts from there.)

...especially after Jihye literally said that they should bury him in a coffin and leave him there until the scenarios are over. They may not be able to do it in real life but at least they can play pretend!

But despite those harsh words they're so gentle and caring with him? 😭 Literally Dokja's job is to do nothing but rest and relax and let his companions handle things (for once).

I stepped forward and spoke up. "Both of you, please hide somewhere. I shall handle this." If my memory was working fine, then one of the players took on the role of the 'Tang Sanzang's White Dragon Horse'. I was pretty sure that he was the one behind the current event. Seeing that the kids were participating in this Story chamber, the rest of the players should also be from , but if someone with ill intention had somehow butted in here… "…We told you, you just stay on the bus."

Oh man, look at Dokja immediately going right back into protector mode and even assuming that maybe someone had infiltrated the story. And the sass they give him in return! Saying he can't even afford proper clothes for himself but wants to save them? And Yoosung's scary little smile?

THEY HAVE TO KNOW RIGHT?

Is this their way of showing him that they can handle themselves so please trust them to do so? Maybe some kind of angry "stop treating us like children, we are going to be the ones to save you"? An even angrier "how dare you save us when you can't even take proper care of yourself"?

And maybe also their way of letting him just rest finally? After all, how is Dokja to deny them taking care of him when it's literally the plot of the story they're enacting?

Also there's this weird little exchange:

– This way, he'll trust us more, you dummy. What will you do if he decides to wreak havoc later? I felt goosebumps break out on my skin. – …You're actually scared of him? Look at his current state, will ya?

Why would they assume some random stranger is going to wreck havoc??? In fact, who is the one person they know who regularly wrecks havoc for everyone around him? Also, the whole "look at his current state." Dokja assumes they're just talking about his shabby clothes or something but they're definitely talking about how weak he is right now, right? Like, I don't think Dokja was able to fully recover back at Secretive Plotter's place because last we saw he was only like 38% healed. (Yet another reason for his party to pamper him right now.)

Gilyoung and Yoosung are definitely saying "we can totally take Dokja right now he's so weak, if he starts to act up we'll shove him a box somewhere before he causes his usual mess," right???

Ughhh but everything also makes sense if they don't know.

Sooyoung would know that such a story would (and does) appeal to the Great Sage because he also wants to just have a nice relaxing time where he doesn't have to save anybody and is pampered by this companions. And of course a story mirroring the Demon King of Salvation's story in any way is going to draw attention, both from the Great Sage and the general public, as we literally just saw with both the Earth news and the news here. (And Sangah! Sangah is back!!!!!!!!! We actually get to see her again!!!!! And this is the story she's drawn to!!!!) And Dokja himself points out that by doing all of the work of the story, they'll ensure that Kim Dokja's Company gets all the story shares.

...Actually, you know what, just the fact that those are all Dokja's observations and reasonings makes me 100% believe they absolutely know it's him because Dokja always, always, always does exactly this every single time people try to help him or show that they care for him. He always assumes they have some ulterior motive and that they're doing it for their own gain. He never thinks that people are there for him. He is the most unreliable narrator ever when it comes to his own story.

If Dokja believes they're doing it for themselves then they have to actually be doing it for him.

They MUST know.

[for-dramas-sake]

The Starry Love ep 25, 26 thoughts

YOUQIN IS BACK. I don't need to say anything else...JUST KIDDING.

Fair warning though: Most of this LONG post is fawning over Youqin. Don't say I didn't warn you.

The beginning of ep 25 made me so tense. Girl, just tell them before things escalate--too late.

Gotta hand it to Qingheng. He knows how to end things with a bang! (evil smile) I love this.

MY EMOTIONS! This is the beginning of the end of the soul shard arc and I'm conflicted. I love these 3 and my heart breaks when they learn the truth. But then Youqin is going to come back. Let's get through these tears, guys! (reaches for a tissue)

Chaofeng and Qingkui really should just run away and start a family away from the Void realm. They could have the happy ending they freaking need. I can see that happening! Let's make it reality. P.s. Bring Haichou

Every time that guy with a moustache shows up: Aren't you supposed to be dead? Was that explained earlier?

The two baby-faced Immortals show up and this their backup? No. The true backup is the soul shards! 3 men protecting their woman? That's romantic.

Once again Youqin is doing a selfless sacrifice: his soul shards give up themselves for her. This getting to be a very bad habit!

Youqin is coming back!!!!!!! My Immortal Turtle! He's got the same deadpan expression and he's still powerful. Phew!

Dingyun just died? I didn't expect that moment of sacrifice from someone like him.

I am legit, no lie, crying. Those 3 saying goodbye breaks my heart. Excuse me a moment while I sob in the corner.

Yay…Youqin has no emotions! The Immortal Realm will be rejoicing tonight. Bring out the wine.

Between you and me, the turtle DEFINITELY has his emotions and he's in love with her. Those eyes don't lie. And Yetan is in love with him no doubt.

I never liked the Immortal Emperor. It was his constant constipation face that irked me and that fact that he's willing to throw his son to the Guixu because "he's earned it".

I knew he remembered everything, and he knows Yetan's true identity. I'm just an emotional mess right now!

Admittedly I put off any attachment to Chaofeng and Qingkui because Youqin was coming back, but now that he is back, I can say: the Void couple are super cute. I wish them happiness no matter short it is.

Short complaint: Heavenly/Immortal clothes are boring as hell. It's just pastels and various shades of white. They do this all the time with fantasy dramas. (shakes head) Come on, let's do something different. But this clothes-changing-scene is adorable. Poor dragonfly guy, he can never win.

(gasps) The hugs! My heart is rollercoaster: first, the tears now the heart palpitations from the adorableness radiating off the Immortal couple! And he's Immortal Turtle, but out his shell. (I will keep this analogy up for as long as I darn well, please. And yes, I wish I could have thought of turtle references for Foxy and Greed, but I couldn't.)

It's going to be impossible for our lovebirds to keep their dates a secret. Youqin is doing a terrible job at keeping his emotions in check, now that he has them. And Yetan has literally never been doted on, so you know she loves this.

I totally see the 3 shards in the new Youqin. He's a mixture of all 3 and still has some traces of the old turtle. Again, Chen Xingxu does a phenomenal job playing so many different characters.

The Void Queen is going after Chaofeng and the Void gang. Haichou is trying to do the right thing by keeping all news from his friend, but Chaofeng is still the little schemer. I bet he'll sneak out and draw the army away from Qingkui or something like that.

Here are the links to my thoughts on previous episodes:

23, 24 / 21, 22 / 19, 20 / 17,18 / 15,16 / 13,14 / 11, 12 / 9, 10 / 7, 8 / 5, 6 / 3, 4 / 1, 2

[alessiathepirate]

I was tagged by @meri-meri-mwah and @angi-writes-filth. Thank you, I appreciate it! :)

Rules: Pick a song for each letter of your URL and then tag that many people.

Also, my music taste is a mix of everything.

A - American Idiot - Green Day

L - Legendary - Skillet

E - Empty Wallets - 5 Seconds of Summer

S - Stayin' Alive - Bee Gees

S - Should I Stay Or Should I Go - The Clash

I - I Am Machine - Three Days Grace

A - Ain't No Rest For The Wicked - Cage The Elephant

T - Temporary Fix - One Direction

H - Hip To Be Square - Huey Lewis And The News

E - Emperor's New Clothes - Panic! At The Disco

P - Per Aspera Ad Inferi - Ghost

I - Into The Mind - Miracle Of Sound

R - Ritual - Ghost

A - Another One Bites The Dust - Queen

T - The World Is Gonna End Tonight - Dan Romer (Far Cry 5)

E - Ex's And Oh's - Elle King

Tagging sixteen people is a bit of a challenge, but I'll try my best.

@emberstoriesandtales @onlyyourone @charliedawn @hackettquarrys @jessy-the-martian-girl @lonnit-entertainment @yesimwriting @thewrathfuldeputy

/No pressure at all. If you don't feel comfortable doing it, then just ignore this post, but if want to then I'm excited to see what kinds of songs you'll pick. :) /

/Also, I'm a girl of culture, so I can't just go and leave without a bit of rambling.

The song called Should I Stay Or Should I Go is from the game called Far Cry 4, and I gotta say I have a special relationship with that part of the game series and with the series itself.

I first heard Stayin' Alive in BBC Sherlock, one of my favourite TV shows to this day. It's definitely worth a watch.

I know Ain't No Rest For The Wicked from the TV series Lucifer, a show I enjoyed, but couldn't find the time to finish.

Hip To Be Square is a classic, it's mostly known from American Psycho. (I mention this movie in one of my one-shots) Also that movie is still golden and if you haven't seen the clip where the song is played, shame on you; go and watch it! :)

Into The Mind is a song from the video game called The Evil Within, the game that got me into the horror genre and with that into the more complicated backstories.

The World Is Gonna End Tonight is a song from Far Cry 5, the first Far Cry game I ever played and with that it's my favourite from the series to this day./

Once again, thank you for the tagging and sorry for the rambling! :)

[hourglassstationacademy]

Falciette Story Chapter 16

Before her office you found someone you didn’t know yet… a brown haired boy… his clothing didn’t say he was a student. 

“The Headmistress is on call…she has been there for a long time… I am also waiting for her to be done.”

As he told you this, a familiar face walked up to you. Soren your dorm member, yet he walked straight to the brown haired boy.

“Marky Mark! Eyyy I missed you.”

"Soren. You are actually a student again?”

“I convinced the headmistress, are you here cause you want back in too?”

“Right… I had therapy… I had long sessions of change… I finally wanna finish my education… and this is the best place… I just… hope she forgives me.”

As they both continued chatting you took the opportunity to listen against the Headmistress office.

“Excuse me?! She is your daughter!! And you say you don’t care!”

She seemed upset and angry at the phone… 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!! YOU… yes… alright emperor Grandale… we will tell this to the students.”

She hung up the call and you could hear a kick against her desk… before slowly opening the door.

“Oh… it's you… come in.”

However as you went in Soren and Mark followed right after you.

“No… get out of here… I don’t need you as well.”

Soren spoke up. “Is it still about the prank?”

“No it's far worse… Soren I accepted you back cause even if you two did bad things as duo, including a former teachers overblot, including injuries, you still were the lesser evil out of the both of you. BUT HIM-”

“Miss Belia… I changed… I have this for you.”

He handed her a sheet of paper which made her sigh.

“Anger therapy… even if you did that I can’t forgive all that… You two are responsible for a staff member to overblot and leave, causing a near catastrophe in the school, beating a student up to go to the hospital, damage to several facilities in the school… and you ask me of all people to accept you back in this school?”

Mark left his head hanging and then spoke up.

“It's because I did all these bad things that I am here… I wanna make up for it and graduate for real. I want to… also make up with money to pay for all the damages IT caused.”

Her glare was deadly… yet Soren spoke up next to him.

“You gave me a second chance… and I would still risk it if it meant Marky could come back… to him, he wants to prove himself to his family for a while… his parents are strict and if he doesn’t make up for this, he might never get their recognition.”

Belia sighed and looked at the papers.

“Alright but under many conditions I allow you to join this school back…some things I want you to do to make up for everything.”

“I will do anything, Miss Belia.”

She still stared daggers at him, judging him for a while…

“One little slip up and you will leave without complaining… and  you will not destroy the reputation of this school any further.”

Mark nodded and offered his hand yet Belia refused it and walked back to her desk.

“Also you three… you will not tell anyone about what happened in Falciette… I hate to pull through with this… but we have a plan about it.”

“And what would that be?”

Belia clenched her fist in anger…

“Emperor Grandale said… we should say she is expelled and returning to the kingdom… and once time settled he will say she died in a fight.”

“W-WHAT?! The emperor just-”

“Listen… I hate to do this as well… but he did this to protect the school… I just… don’t get how he cares so little about his own daughter… especially her brother will probably be able to testify for what happened… “

The group is silent. 

“I will… talk with staff to find a solution… would you please get out… Mark, go with the Tetravania dorm leader, this will be your new dorm.”

He followed after you, as the headmistress still seemed visibly strained and upset, getting to settle everything. For now you should leave her alone.

[onlyhope93]

He’s not as bad as he seemed to be - Chapter 1 - oops

There is nothing like Discussion Conference, in Cloud Recesses nonetheless, thought Wei Wuxian, trying to escape all the judgemental and incriminating looks the ‘orthodox’ cultivators were sending him. What wouldn’t I give for a jar of Emperor's Smile... What did he think, dragging me all the way here? He knows Lans hate everything unconventional in cultivation, but no... ‘You're my head disciple, if I have to suffer through this instead of focusing on rebuilding Lotus Pier, I damn well will not suffer through it alone. You’re coming with me, end of discussion. A-Jie will handle everything here. Besides, a little break from your constant drinking in the winehouses will do you and the owners good. At least they’ll be able to replenish their wine reserves’.  

He and Jiang Cheng, along with several of their most trusted disciples were in Gusu Lan Cloud Recesses for three days already and all that was discussed so far was how generous the Lanling Jin was in aiding various smaller and bigger sects in rebuilding and establishing connections with new sects, which sprouted after the Sunshot Campaign like mushrooms after rain. Three days, and nothing but bootlicking. Wei Wuxian felt like he’s going to be sick if he sat there even a minute longer, so after lunch he snuck out, only sending Jiang Cheng a wink. It’s a good thing his brother knows him so well that he only rolled his eyes and let him go. Trying to keep Wei Wuxian in that discussion room any longer would surely end in some political disaster.

He was walking leisurely through stone gardens and beautifully styled pathways, the serene atmosphere giving him a feeling of nostalgia. Memories of his study days flying before his eyes. How much easier it was back then... No worries, no wars, no pain, no death... We worried only for how to kill boredom, the only wars we experienced was on night hunts fighting resentful creatures, the only pain came from scrapes and cuts on training sessions or when playing around, and nobody even thought about the possibility of death, we were immortal cultivators after all. Now? All that’s left from those times are memories clouded by the shock of reality and adulthood that came too fast. Gods I’m pathetic, I’m not even 20 yet! And I feel like I’m fucking 40... ugh, get a grip Wei Wuxian! He shook off the morbid thoughts and decided to go find that waterfall he liked to spend his free time at during the lectures here. He was just about to turn the corner when he suddenly bumped into somebody. A tall somebody in white and light blue elegant clothing, stern features and a goatee. He was soooo screwed now...

“Lan xiansheng, good afternoon. Wonderful day we have today, don’t we?”, yep he was screwed. “Forgive me for my inattention. I’ll be out of your way now”, said Wei Wuxian, stepping out of the way and waiting for Lan Qiren to pass him by with haughty expression and sneer on his lips. How wrong he was.

“Wei Wuxian. Since the fate decided to cross our paths again, come” said Lan Qiren turning around and walking away, clearly expected to be followed.  

“Forgive me xiansheng, but my student years are long passed and I don’t need any more lectures.” answered Wei Wuxian, not moving.

Lan Qiren stopped, saying “I said come. You are in Cloud Recesses. ‘Do not disrespect the elder’, ‘Honour your teacher and respect his teachings’. I thought you once, therefore I am forever your teacher. Now come.”  

And with this he strode away. What was Wei Wuxian to do, but obey? I'll just have to endure it. I do it every day from Jiang Cheng anyway.

Lan Qiren led him to his office. It was a medium sized room, elegant and airy, with small stove for brewing tea close to small table for discussions and admitting guests, spacious desk for writing, and shelf that took a vast majority of the back wall for all documents and space for research materials.

Wei Wuxian stayed by the door, unsure of what to expect. Lan Qiren sat at the table and waited. He rose one of his eyebrows looking at his guest. Wei Wuxian sighed and slowly came to sit down. And since Lan Qiren clearly stated he is here as his student and due to the generational difference, it was Wei Wuxian’s responsibility to prepare and serve tea. Once the formalities were seen to and first sips of tea taken, it was time for the lecture.  

“I assume you know, or at least are able to guess, what I want to talk with you about. I was informed you strayed from the orthodox cultivation and are dealing with demonic arts. You are also well aware what my opinion of it is since the lectures you were part of. However, I was informed that you disappeared for three months after the attack on Lotus Pier and were presumably thrown into the Burial Mounds by Wen Chao. Do not look at me liked that, I was Acting Sect Leader for years before my nephew took over the sect after his father’s passing, I have my way of gaining information outside of gossip. You have not used your sword since then, nor are you carrying it with you as our tradition and propriety dictates. Answer me this. What is wrong with your golden core?”

Wei Wuxian was speechless. How did he know? There is no way he learned it from any spy, nobody except from me, Wen Qing and Wen Ning knows. There’s no way... Hackles raised, Wei Wuxian tried to play the fool.

“I don’t know what you are talking about xiansheng, my golden core is just fine. And what Burial Mounds? Your informant must be quite the storyteller.”

“Do not try lying to me and do not take me for a fool. My informant has seen a group of Wens, including Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu heading towards the Burial Mounds on their swords with someone in their grasp. The person was in bad shape, in nondescript clothing, but visibly young. Unfortunately, by the time the information got to me, you already managed to join the Sunshot Campaign. And also unfortunately, I managed to associate the youth they carried with you once the Campaign was well underway and I was informed about your new style of cultivation. Resentful energy damages the body and the spirit. It is vile, dangerous and unpredictable. I will ask again, what is wrong with your golden core?”

This cannot be happening. Out of all the people in the world it had to be Lan Qiren, hasn’t it? He has to think of something fast. There are too many people here, too many sects, too many witnesses. He has to do something otherwise the Jiang sect is going to be in danger. They just started rebuilding, they cannot afford to be attacked now, when there is so little chance they will survive it. Not when everyone will find out he is coreless and decide that his Yin Tiger Amulet is out for grabs. It is too dangerous to be in anyone else's hands.

And now here he is. All his plans to wait until the Yunmeng Jiang is fully re-established to destroy that damn thing and end this miserable existence of his with it. To wait until everyone is safe again after war. It’s all for nought.

In his panic, Wei Wuxian stood up feigning anger, looking around discreetly as if someone would be able to hear. He started to move towards the door, saying “I told you already xiansheng, my golden core is just fine. As is my body and my spirit. I know myself best.”

In a blink, Lan Qiren was in front of him, grasping his wrist. Wei Wuxian tried to escape, but what he didn’t take into account is the legendary Lan arm strength. Despite being a scholar and a teacher, Lan Qiren was still a Lan. Diligent in his training and honing his skills for years, he could easily overpower Wei Wuxian.

And then he stated probing his meridians, which were found empty but undamaged, with void in place of the core.

“Impossible,” said Lan Qiren, looking at Wei Wuxian in shock. “Who did this to you?”

His grip on the wrist slackened, and Wei Wuxian was finally able to wrest his hand back to himself. He was in sooooo much trouble now.  

“Nobody did anything to me, I am completely fine. I didn’t expect the great Grandmaster of the Lan Sect, Lan Qiren, to be so discourteous as to grab people without their permission”, seethed Wei Wuxian through gritted teeth and with anger in his eyes, their colour flickering between grey and red.  

“Forgive me my discourtesy, but it was the only way to check on your health without you avoiding examination”, said Lan Qiren, trying to placate the fuming Wei Wuxian. “The technique used to extract your golden core is very old and only 2 or 3 copies of it exist, one of which is in possession of the Lan Sect. I know it was not the Core Melting Hand, his core crushing technique destroyed also the meridians. I felt the meridians of a person attacked by Wen Zhuliu and they were in state of total devastation. Your meridians are whole and healthy, although energy in them is stagnant and tinted by resentment, and they are singed only where they meant to be connected to the core. Someone clearly performed a surgery on you. The only question is what experiments were they performing on you and what they used your core for?”

That's it, isn’t it? He's done for. After all his attempts to keep it a secret, after hurting so many people with his lies, it had to be his old teacher. He always thought the Old Man Lan hated his guts. He was ready for another lecture full of scoldings and hateful comments, but he had no idea how it turned out as it did.

And then the door opened.  

[christinethegreenbean]

the world keeps ending and the world goes on- korea's filial daughters

The Tale of Shim Chong, The Devoted Daughter.

Once upon a time, there was a girl, Shim Cheong. Her mother died when she was born. Her father did not have a job because he was blind. So from her childhood, Shim Cheong worked alone to support her father. She faced many troubles as a poor girl in the patriarchal society.

One day after work, Shim Cheong started for home late. Her father, worried about her, felt his way through the paths to greet her.

While he was crossing the bridge alone for the first time, he fell into the river. He started screaming and flailing in fear. "Help me, I'm drowning!"

A monk passing by discovered him and leaped into the river. While saving him, he was surprised to find out the man was blind. Taking pity on him, the monk instructed him, "If you offer 300 seoks of rice to the Buddha, you will regain your eyesight."

Shim Cheong’s father was very glad to hear the news, so he promised to give Buddha the offering of three hundred seoks of rice. But when he calmed down, he realized that he could not afford to buy all the rice- he and Shim Cheong already could hardly get by to eat all 3 meals.

When Shim Cheong came home, she saw her father silent and forlorn. “What’s wrong, father?” she asked.

He told her everything that happened and what the monk had said. After sitting in silence, she reassured him, “Don’t worry, father, I’ll try to get all the rice.”

One day at the market, an auntie asked Shim Cheong, “Did you hear the news? Some sailors want to buy a girl for an offering to the Sea-God. They will pay as much as she wants.” As soon as Shim Cheong heard the news, she knew what she would do to get the money to buy 300 seoks of rice.

Shim Cheong climbed up to the pier to the sailors who wanted to buy a girl and asked them to buy her. “I need 300 seoks of rice for my father to regain his eyesight. I will do anything that is needed.” Shim Cheong explained.

The sailors bought Shim Cheong, amazed at her. “She is the most filial daughter in the world.” Finally, the day came when she had to leave. “Father, today I’m going to be the wealthy magistrate Kang family’s step-daughter,” she lied to her father. “To adopt me, they will give three hundred seoks of rice to the temple. Then, you will be able to see again.”

“That’s great! I won’t be a blind man anymore!” her father said happily.

Shim Cheong walked up to the boat with the sailors. After sailing for several torrential days, the ship finally reached the deepest part of the sea. Suddenly, a strong wind rose and the sea roared. Frightened, the sailors wanted Shim Cheong to jump into the roaring sea to be the sacrifice. She covered her face with her chimma, the only and last clothing she had left from her mother, and leaped head first into the roaring waves.

When she struggled to open her eyes under the sea, she realized that she could breathe freely and see. She heard beautiful music, with colorful seaweed and anemone floating around her. She had no idea where she was. “Am I dead or alive?” Shim Cheong murmured.

At that moment, she heard a voice saying, “Wake up, now. This is the sea palace. The Sea King was touched by your story. He sent me to save you.”

Shim Cheong stayed at the Sea King’s palace for days. One day, a maid came to Shim Cheong. “The Sea King has ordered that you return to your land,” she said. Shim Cheong was put into a big lotus blossom. The lotus blossom softly floated to the surface through calm waters.

The sailors who bought Shim Cheong found the lotus blossom drifting in the same place where Shim Cheong had jumped into the sea. The sailors were surprised and lifted it out of the sea to bring it to the emperor of the kingdom. When the emperor touched the blossom, it suddenly shone and opened, and the beautiful girl walked out. The king loved Shim Cheong very much and made her his queen.

As the king’s wife, Shim Cheong’s life was very happy and luxurious, but she could not forget her father. One day, the king found Shim Cheong in tears.

“Why are you so sad?” he asked. “Please tell me.”

Shim Cheong told him the whole story. After the king heard her story, he wanted to help her to find her father. So he threw a party for all blind people in the country so they could eat and drink freely, and receive support.

Meanwhile, Shim Cheong’s father was still blind despite the offering of 300 seoks of rice. He heard from other people in the village what Shim Cheong did for him to regain his eyesight. Every moment of the day, he regretted the loss of his daughter and his words.

One day, a neighbor informed Shim Cheong’s father that the king prepared a party for blind people.

When the party began, Shim Cheong was desperately looking for her father. But she could not find him. On the last day of the party, Shim Cheong was just about to give up hope. Then, she saw a tired, shabby old man enter the palace. She was overjoyed when she found her father. She ran to him.

“Father, I’m Shim Cheong, your daughter!” she cried.

“My daughter? My Shim Cheong?” said the surprised old man.

“Is it a dream? Let me look at your face!” At that moment a miracle happened. The old man opened his eyes!

The king was so pleased to see his wife and her father reunited. He ordered the party to be continued for another week. All the people cheered the queen's filial piety and humble nature.

Shim Cheong and her father lived happily ever after in the palace, loved and supported by those around them.

---

The story of Shim Cheong is one of the most popular folklores in Korea- one that I've heard over and over again since my childhood first from my grandma, then through musicals, poetry, calligraphy, picture books, and most importantly, pansori. Pansori is like traditional Korean opera, or "Korean epic chant," storytelling through a drummer and a single vocalist. Tracing its roots back to the 17th century from the Joseon dynasty, "pan" means any setting where people gather, and "sori" meaning sound. This simple definition provides context to how even the common people of the Joseon dynasty were able to enjoy fairy tales. Commoners were not able to read or write, as it was reserved for the upper class and government officials. Pansori includes narration and "ballim," a dance-like myming. It was originally a way to critique and comment on society at the time through tales that frequently depicted the most vulnerable population: young girls of the lower class. For example, another famous pansori is the tale of Chunhyang, which depicts the hypocrisy and abuse of power among state officials that manipulated the lower class.

Pansori is a work of art that is incredibly difficult to train in, and even start. Growing up, I was able to visit many pansori performances- a privilege that I recognize now, that helps me connect to my roots. My great grandmother, and generations women from my mother's side, were the few who had many pansori tales and their musicality memorized, from the storytelling to the beat of the drum, and dancing. I respect this very much, partly because pansori performances can be as long as 8 hours long- and because it has become a dying art due to the Japanese colonization of Korea, when countless women were abused, mutilated, and assaulted for spreading the Korean culture.

Knowing about my roots comes with guilt, though, as the first and only person from both sides of my family to be born in the United States and thus the first to have completely "escaped" poverty and dictatorship that is not portrayed in western media. I think that the pride of such generational strength accompanies the guilt of every first-generation immigrant, as well as a struggle to find the balance between two cultures. The generational gap between my parents and I is painfully apparent: to start with, I, who grew up with the American education system, and not fluent in Chinese literature. This marks the divide between the older and younger generations, since Chinese characters are crucial in fully understanding nuanced Korean such as pansori.

My childhood is marked with my efforts to be as "Korean" as I can be, in a land that deems me "too Asian" to be American, while the land of my ancestors always tells me that I am living proof of further cultural loss. The hours spent on learning Chinese, Korean, English, calligraphy, history, and literature are both self-affirming, yet bitter.

In my own tale, I am Shim Cheong, along many other Shim Cheongs born in the United States. I need to be Shim Cheong. I am the many daughters of Korea that were lost.

I offer filial piety to a motherland where I will always considered too crude, too foreign. I offer filial piety to a motherland to claim back the art of many mothers. I offer filial piety to a motherland through much sacrifice that I both want and need to. I wonder what my "300 seoks of rice" that I look for is. I wonder who will give me such a large amount of rice. I wonder how far away the 300 seoks of rice are.

---

[supernovafeather]

The War Tribute (Part 2) (18+)

Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Content : noncon, forced marriage, trauma, rough sex, spank, degradation, spit, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, language, Leto is trying, fluff, angst.

Link to PART ONE

The silence is deafening as you enter the Duke's quarters. You haven't slept in a little bit more than twenty-four hours and everyone around him had understood that he obeyed the Emperor fully. Your paces towards the center of the room are muffled by the carpet, just as his. You don't pay attention to your surroundings and beautiful furniture, your disgust mounting for some reason at the maidservants waiting in line already, their eyes following you.

"Ladies, here is the new Duchess of Caladan." He says emotionless. "You got briefed on her arrival. Please make her feel at home."

"My home got burned down." You say between your teeth as the women lower their gaze under your hostility. "Good luck Ladies."

The Duke inhales briefly, certainly about to say something, then gives up. You are watching those idiots afraid of you. They are pathetic. You keep your head up despite this need to wash your skin over and over since he took you against your will. You managed to make him feel uncomfortable and you will do the same to those maggots unable to stand for themselves and crawling pathetically to survive.

"My Lady." The youngest says shyly as she walks up to you with an anxious smile. "Please let me take your shawl, I am..."

The spit hitting her face has her stepping back with a disgusted grimace. Her left eye closed, she turns her head away. You expect the Duke to scold you, insult you, why not to keep you as low as he can by inflicting you the same treatment. But when you turn to him to defy that piece of shit, you notice he kept his head straight, eyes closed with anger tensing his features. Good.

"Laura. Please do not act so invasively."

You are about to spit at that hypocritical bearded face when you remember that you really shouldn't do such a thing, as tempting that may be. He might not be as powerful as you thought, and it only makes things more humiliating for you, your rage bubbling in your stomach. The Emperor wiped the floor with that man's values, and you are going to wipe the floor with his dignity.

"Yes Laura." You say mischievously. "You better not to do that to a Duchess."

"I'm sorry my Lady." She whispers as she seems to remember this tiny and insignificant detail with a dramatic jolt. "This won't happen again my Lady."

Your wedding won't be remembered. Due to the customs that forced you to do it, it only took Leto Atreides to confirm he ejaculated in you in that cell to make it official. Right afterwards you stayed in an isolate room of the ship, taking several showers in a row as sadness, disgust and anger kept spreading in your core. You want to make all of them pay. Your family, that husband, those pathetic little maidservants that won't even care about you. Maybe some are jealous of you. Who knows ? Maybe they think it would be fun, exciting, arousing ? What do they even know of things like that ?

"My Lady please leave Laura alone." The Duke whispers.

You blink, realizing that this woman is stuck in her submissive stance after you have stared down at her for so long, her form victim of the fire in your eyes. She hasn't done anything to you but... it does feel good to have that power over something. You won't be able to keep your influence over the Duke forever. He is going to regain his composure once guilt will start to vanish.

Your instructions to the women are clear : do not touch. No one touches you. They are here to bring you your clothes, soap, whatever. And make your bed. And clean. But... do not touch.

During the first night you spend at least an hour in your bath, rubbing and cleaning everything compulsively. There is no foam remaining. You feel lonely, dirty, betrayed. And soon you are going to have to share that bed with that man, your husband as they call him. There's no ring, no joy, no paper signed yet or at least you haven't signed anything. He brought you there like some feral cat found on the street. And tonight you are going to have to let him breed you because some man thought it should be a rule so far in the past. Maybe you are already pregnant from that cursed day who knows.

Once out of the bathroom, you find the Duke sitting on his bed. You wonder whether you should play the flirting wife or ignore him. Maybe you should treat him like shit. He looks more fragile with this thin white top and this pair of pants. You do look fragile in that nightgown so you hope he won't break you one day. Now that the power balance is totally against you, you are not that sure of your actions anymore.

"My Lady." He salutes you without any expression.

"My Lord." You nod in the same way.

You go to bed under his gaze, avoiding to cross it as you hide your body under the blanket. The moment he gets underneath as well you feel this nausea appearing. So you get rid of your side with a shaky sigh, and turn on your belly, lifting your nightgown up to your waist as you look at his confused face.

"Take me. I'm here for that reason. Make me carry your child."

For a few seconds he doesn't move, his frown digging his features as usual. You have hope before he finally moves, soon straddling you from behind. His calloused hands rub your asscheeks, spread them, press them. His legs look strong by the way the mattress moves under him. You think you are making up your mind.

"You're not wet."

"I know."

He spits at your entrance several times as you try to prevent yourself from sobbing, your heartbeat so intense it makes you feel floating, like you are not hear for real. You hear his pants getting lowered, flesh rubbing against flesh for a while to make himself hard. Then a frustrated sigh.

"I can't do that to you. Not again." He mutters.

"Huh ? Fuck me by the Gods, I have only one thing to do there. My father gave up on me for that reason."

He doesn't answer and you remain there as he puts his sex back into his pants. Your body freezes when he almost crawls on you to get a tissue or two, then wipes your entrance. Feeling his fingers rubbing this area causes violent cold goosebumps all over you and he puts your nightgown back onto your bottom, the blanket as well in a brutal gesture.

"The Emperor wanted that. Not me." He justifies as you turn around to see him sitting on his side of the bed. "I can't do that."

"You've already done it once and you loved it. Stop playing the remorseful man."

"It's not a game even for myself." He argues as you turn your back at him.

It's not a game and you are well-placed to know it. You keep your mouth shut.

Caladan may not be a planet you've heard a lot of, but the tension reigning there during the first months is certainly new. Several reasons for this : its people themselves don't feel comfortable with the principle of that forced marriage, but also your invisibility as you refuse to appear in public, the fact that Leto doesn't argue with this, and the obvious lack of heir for the throne.

Closeted in your self-isolation you barely see anyone besides the Duke and the maidservants. A few times you cross the path of soldiers or advisors but you don't salute them as they are more focused on the absence of a baby bump under your dress than on your feelings.

There had been rumors once after you had to interrupt your breakfast due to nausea. But it was due to a sudden surge of melancholy after the taste of it reminded you of the fruits from your planet. And as Leto hasn't touched you since the day he abused you, you were not worried about the outcome.

"Good morning my Lady."

This polite voice welcoming you in the Gardens is more common now that you and your husband learned more or less to tolerate each other. After a few days of pure coldness and even of mutual disdain, you accepted to finally accustom to the basic politeness rules of this court.

"Good morning my Lord." You acknowledge his presence with a neutral face.

You haven't taken a good look at him in a while. He does seem thinner than before. Tired as well. But who are you to be sure of it ? You see him barely two hours in the day. You avoid to take your breakfast in his presence not to take the risk of causing a scene.

"May we have a walk ?" He asks.

"Don't you have a meeting ?"

"Please my Lady." He insists as he extends his arm to you.

You take it, now so used to sleep by his side that you repress those goosebumps of disgust.

"Do you need anything. My Lord ?"

"We need to talk... about... everything. You are falling ill my Lady. I can see it. I am worried."

"I am alright." You roll your eyes. "Insomnia won't kill me."

"You barely eat anything during lunches. I don't even see you during breakfast and dinner." He insists gently.

"I don't need you to know when or where to eat."

"As I said I am worried."

Such a lie. It's all a lie as you stop, his face so serious as he runs a hand through a strand of hair that escaped your bun. They're all liars all the time, you couldn't even trust your own father and now he tries to convince you that man has feelings.

"Please my Lady, take care of yourself. Have you read the books I offered you ?" He inquires.

"I did. They were... interesting."

You were passionate in your reading. This man has excellent taste in literature but better get your tongue ripped out your mouth than admitting it out loud. He is a weird ruler. He did that atrocity to you yet takes care as much as he can of your comfort to make sure you feel at home here. Maybe he wasn't lying when he told you he didn't want to do such a thing.

"Do you enjoy the baths in the renovated aisle of the castle ?"

"I do."

"Did it help you to relax a bit ?"

"It did."

"Good. Good." He says with obviously no idea of how to pursue this conversation. "Well. I think I need to go now. My Lady."

For a second you get confused at the way he takes your hand. It's shy, calculating your reaction with careful eyes. You wonder why he wants to handshake his wife before finally understanding as he kisses the back of your hand in a brief contact. It's a simple gesture but... you realize how much your relationship has progressed to come up with this without you stepping back or insulting him under your breath. To be fair he is the only one trying to save this marriage for some reason. But after all he needs this heir, and if in theory he feels guilty about his actions he should make it worth it by breeding you at all costs, even if that takes him months.

You want to end that hypocrisy and for once you are the first in your bed that night, waiting for Leto to finish his shower. He came back early - around 1 am - and you don't feel sleepy. Not when you feel this anticipation building in your belly. You want to carry his baby so that hypocrisy will end for good and he'll let you live your life by your own, hoping this would be a boy of course. Maybe a boy that one day would be willing to vote other laws like that aberration you got to endure.

A disturbingly sweet warmth spreads in you as you watch the Duke walking past the bed, his mind wandering elsewhere as he stops by a desk to read a document. From there you can see his strong shoulders under the white and large top he put in his dark pants. He did get thinner but his arms remain well defined. His legs and hips as well. You never got to have a look at him naked.

You leave the bed in silence, your bare feet caressing the carpet as you come closer to him and to the glowglobe following him. He looks exhausted by how slowed down are his gestures. Hesitation plagues your mind but desire and curiosity take you over and you snake your arms around his waist.

Leto tenses up dramatically and his breath even stops as you press your cheek against his shoulder blade. Now that contact is made you feel this fear battling with your sexual need awakening. You want to tame that fear, to annihilate that mental torture. You want to live again, to taste life as you would in the past. You have this demon to vanquish. No one is going to help you.

"My Lady ?" Your husband mutters as your hands rub his chest gently.

"Yes my Lord ?" you ask back as you close your eyes.

This control over him is back, you think. Not by intimidation or sourness. He just froze there under your touch, paying attention to your actions and words. His breathing is now deep, focused.

"What are you doing exactly ?" He wonders with a soft voice.

"Give me that child you want."

The Duke's profile gets visible as he turns his head slightly. He looks wonderfully regal for some reason, maybe the light sharpening his features even more under the glowglobe's light. His beard is more messy than usual, same with his hair that are still a bit wet here and there.

"Do you feel ready ?"

He turns around slowly, your heart pounding by the seriousness and lust in his eyes. Having such an expressive gaze shouldn't be allowed. It gives you the impression of being hit by a heatstroke.

"I want you." You confess before feeling this lump when he raises an eyebrow.

"Are you really wishing for this my dear ?" He asks as he licks his bottom lip once.

"I do."

Then comes this twisted idea in your mind, and you feel your wetness starting to come out of your lower lips while you rub up and down his chest as he rests his hands on your hips, expectation clear in his face.

"Take me like last time. Against that desk. Make me love it, and cum in me. Take me hard."

You clench at the thought of finally having the opportunity to confront that memory. To make it get erased by this good one, by the pleasure you are willing to feel this time with him. It's the only weapon you have. You have no intention of letting fear dictate your life.

"My Lady I'm not sure this would be a good solution." He argues despite you looking down at the bump growing rapidly and leaking a little through his pants. "I love that thought, don't get me wrong. I don't want to hurt you more that I already did."

You step back from him, your hand shaking despite your confident glare. You position yourself like you were that day : palms firmly on the table, facing this much cleaner wall, your back arched for him.

"I want it my Lord. Take me."

It takes him a dozen of seconds to lift your nightgown and you hate it.

"Take me hard." You mutter with a slight slap on the desk.

"I won't hurt you." He warns you. "Stop giving orders to your Duke."

"A Duke that can't even fuck his wife properly when she asks for it, even after several months without real sex." You chuckle as your hear him lowering his pants at this provocation.

Now that you stung his ego, he does get more physical, but by grabbing your hair to pull on it, forcing you to sit on his desk as he forces you to embrace his hips with your legs. Your heart skips a beat, maybe two, but this death glare coming from him so close arouses you. If you wanted to dominate him both psychologically and physically even if only in symbols, now you only want him to cum inside you.

"Spread your legs my dear." He orders.

You do as said, your eyes locked with his as he holds your throat. Your pussy clenched around nothing, then on the tip of his cock as he rubs your wet entrance blindly, then on his shaft he slides effortlessly and with less care than the other time. You forgot how thick he was and you gasp against his lips, your eyes wide open as he stays deep inside you, his tongue looking for yours. His hips press against yours with a strength you can't fight, your hands grabbing his top.

Comes the first hip thrust, brutal as he watches your reactions.

"You love that." He states in confusion as you clench hard around him. "You love to get fucked hard."

"I hope you love it that way my Lord."

It's just a matter of seconds before your plans change completely. The desk is not for him so he carries you to his bed, still buried deeply in you. Still connected to you he makes you fall onto the mattress, taking your nightgown off as well as his own top. And for a man that noticably lost weight you are amazed by the toned muscles he still has. Now he is intimidating. Now he is the war Lord your father started to be wary of once he understood he made the worst mistake of his life.

The Duke grins as he tilts his head to the side, his hands caressing your bare thighs around his hips.

"You're not being rough." You state shyly as he starts to rub your erected clit with a lazy thumb. "I asked you to..."

"And I ask you to let me watch your body." He interrupts you with a gentle grind. "It's not everyday that I can see my wife like this."

He chuckles as you clench around him again, the lower part of your body jolting at the sensation. He leans on you, looking right at your eyes as his lips graze yours.

"Stop looking so innocent." He groans as you gasp at the long and deep thrust. "You're too hot for that, wanting it harder and harder, begging for it."

Now things gets more interesting as he starts more brutal motions, moving his legs to get a better position. It's fast and deep, his hands pulling on your hair so he can have a good view on your bouncing breasts and bare neck. It's already starting to feel good to be at his mercy. You're so worked up that you don't think, just moan mindlessly as he shows his confidence even more with a satisfied smile. Then he flips you over, your hands grabbing his blanket as you try to crawl away before feeling him back inside you brutally.

This time he doesn't do it with any finesse. You are his as he spanks you hard, the volume of your moans increasing as his shaft keeps rubbing you from the inside. You want him to give you that baby, you want to make your father think that you turned that page of that family, that you manipulated the all-mighty Duke of Caladan to your advantage, that you are an Atreides, that you don't have any trauma, that you grew stronger after that senseless war and that your husband fucks you so good every night. You want the world to think all of that because you deserve justice.

Your orgasm is so loud that you hide your face in his blanket, your teeth trying to catch it despite how much your combined weight bounce each time. It's good, he's so good to you. He makes you feel so good with his little praise, because yes as he says you are his beautiful Duchess, a good girl, his good girl taking him so well, so hot and so tight, you are his good girl and he is about to cum.

"Shit." He sighs with satisfaction as he slows down, his hands still firmly around your hips.

You open you eyes sleepily as you feel most of the tension leaving you. Leto keeps grinding at a slow pace, his hands rubbing your bare back and he pants loudly.

"Did you like it ?" You mumble once your mouth freed when you turn around.

"I did. And I should be the one asking you that."

For a few seconds your gaze remains focused on the Atreides signet ring still on his finger digging your skin. You blink, trying to realize that you are indeed a part of this House now. It's the first time you truly feel that way.

"You just killed me." He groans as he lies down, his hand wiping some sweat on his chest.

He does look exhausted like that with his eyes closed but at least he is smiling. It's a strange view but pleasant. You made him happy tonight. You are not willing to join his arms as he invited you to get closer, but you remain there, wondering if this could even mead to anything healthy. Right now you may be drunk by this sexual performance, but your duty doesn't stop at that. And now that you feel safer around him, new opportunities emerge in your mind.

- - -

@salome-c @stevenngrant @lavenderluna10 @one-hell-of-a-disappointment @dailyreverie @thecursivej @lady-targaryen @general-latino @harrys-tittie