#elegance demonstrates

[thetarttfuldickhead]

One of the things I particularly like about Jamie’s redemption arc is that the explanation for his bad behavious comes after he makes reconcilatory overtures. In a lot of TV shows you’ll have a jerk and then you’ll have a flash to someone treating them badly as a way to demonstrate why they are are the way they are and to make them more sympathetic, and then you’ll get them – maybe – trying to do better – but with Jamie you don’t get any of his sad backstory until he’s already making moves towards decent: in season one he makes the good choice to show up to the bonfire sacrifice, to follow Keeley’s advice and show willing, and then he offers up some of his dad stuff as part of that, and as part of an (admittedly very, very understated) kinda, sorta apology and suggestion that he’ll try to be less of a prick going forward. In season two the big showdown with his dad and the stark truth of their relationship revealed doesn’t come until well after Jamie’s made good with the team. Rather than cheaply buying our sympathy the show has Jamie do the work to earn the audiences’ favour, just as he does the team’s, before suggesting that, hey, maybe assholes are often assholes for a reason – and I just think that’s neat.

[thesecondface]

year 3 phd here we go baby

on the other. just came back from the lake district (field trip with the undergrads) and the lecturers leading the trip all brought me back samples of lamprophyre while I was traipsing round and sliding off hills in the rain (i love nature... nature does not love me. lamprophyres in a space both entirely accessible yet uniquely deadly for the likes of me). absolutely devastated by this sweetness. what good eggs

[blindrapture]

just discovered this video. you have only experienced 25% of sonic 3.

this was one of the most pure joys I've felt.

this guy demonstrates how you are supposed to play sonic. he does not claim it is the only way to play, but he shows examples of how much more fun and cool it becomes, and how it immediately contextualizes all the beginner's traps that Everyone stumbles with, all the things that make sonic games feel Bad-- they're all just beginner's traps, things to learn how to avoid, learn how to modulate yourself around. he shows that this applies even to 3D sonic (namely Sonic Heroes, but dammit it applies to all 3D sonic, and I go further and say it applies to all 'bad' games). and he argues against the meme that sonic is about going fast. because sonic is not about going fast. sonic is about speed modulation. slow down at a moment's notice, develop your sense of when to slow down. and this guy even fucking quotes david foster wallace in a beautiful way. it's like this video was waiting for me to watch it.

because this is just. absolutely correct. this is how we're supposed to look at video games. it's about finding the fun that was designed in them, not just accepting the meme answer of "why this game sucks." sonic taught me that.

I kinda suck at sonic 3 still, though I have played it enough times (and instinctively do a lot of his recommended things-- pay attention to score, ignore shields and emeralds and bonus stages, try to 'catch the bus' next time-- because they are actually self-evident) that I am receptive to all this and sometimes do cool tricks, I just don't play sonic 3 often enough to get to a great consistency. srb2 though. srb2, I play like this. as anyone who has seen me play it can attest. because it's. it's how you play sonic 3. srb2 follows the design principles of sonic 3.

god. I came out of watching this video feeling like I've just been encouraged to keep trying to live my life the way I believe in. "believe in yourself!"

anyway. wanted to share. 'cause I fucking love sonic.

[esoanem]

@jonaldronaldrolkientolkien

imo math is best when it involves a lot of diagrams scrutable only to you and worst when it involves a bunch of really messy equations.

[tenderwhore]

"I think I fuck you better than your stupid porn videos, little pervert."

✿ Word count: 3082

✿ Summary: You were just trying to relieve some tension after an intense study session, without imagining that the person you hated the most in the world would find you in an inappropriate situation.

✿ Content warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

F!reader x Heeseung, academic rivals, plotless porn, public place masturbation, mention of pornography, rubbing against clothes, PIV, sex in a public place (even though no one sees them), unprotected sex, creampie, Heeseung is a provocateur and talks WAY TOO MUCH, nicknames: (bitch, whore, princess, little pervert), nipple play, compliments (?), Heeseung has a big cock (?).

✿ Note and clarifications: this is probably very bad, since I've never written anything. English is not my first language either, so there are probably many spelling mistakes, in addition to it not being proofread. The main idea came from a spicy AI chatbot, but I couldn't find it SORRY IF IT'S REALLY BAD, DON'T HATE ME

You have always demonstrated your competitiveness because Heeseung has always been ahead in everything, but you... You were always the second, and that bothered you day and night; you hated him for his privileged position, maybe you felt a bit of envy, just a bit.

He pretended to be the ideal guy. Yes, he was charismatic, attractive, insightful, elegant, the class leader, stylish, outstanding in sports, hot... So fucking hot... You definitely hated him.

...

It was approaching 5 PM and, despite the bell having rung about an hour and a half ago, you were still in the classroom because you had a lot of assignments to complete. It had been a day full of responsibilities that had your hair standing on end, so just as you finished your tasks, your body collapsed like jelly in your chair while you let out an exhausted sigh.

You momentarily looked at the ceiling before taking your phone out of your purse and accessing one of your favorite porn sites. It was one of your little favorite pastimes whenever you felt frustrated and just longed for someone to push you against a wall and fuck you until you were utterly spent.

The more you watched, the more you felt your body heating up. As you looked to the sides, you lightly bit your lower lip, making sure there was no one around while you slid your hands over your breasts and abdomen before reaching the hem of your skirt and lifting it, then slipping your fingers into your underwear, lightly brushing your already wet folds.

You adjusted your position in the chair a little more, then lifted your fingers slightly and pressed them against your clitoris, beginning to make circles on it.

You quickly immerse yourself in pleasure, tilting your head slightly back and clenching your jaw to stay silent. Your hips began to rise, seeking greater stimulation. You are so close, your orgasm is creeping up your neck, until you hear a guy ask, "Why do you do it alone when you have me?"

The sound made you jump slightly and stop, bringing your hands to your lap with your face as red as a tomato and your heart racing.

Your orgasmic haze didn't allow you to immediately process whose voice it was, so you searched the room with your hazy eyes until they landed on Heeseung's figure, who was casually standing a few meters away from your body, looking at you with an arrogant smile and his hands in his pockets.

You huff angrily as you close your eyes tightly, readjusting your position in the chair reluctantly and turning off your phone. "Shouldn't you be fucking one of the cheerleaders in the bathroom or something?" Your voice comes out cocky, trying to sound relaxed despite my vulnerable position.

He chuckles softly, advancing serenely towards the classroom with a predatory gleam in his eyes as he approaches you. His imposing figure looms over you. "You always try to get rid of me, don't you? But we both know you don't want that..."

He leans in, placing his hands on your desk, bringing his face closer to yours. While murmuring in a husky voice. "I saw what you were doing, little naughty one. Don't you know it's wrong to give yourself pleasure in a place like this?" He smiles disdainfully as one of his hands slides down to rest possessively on your thigh, squeezing the delicate flesh through your skirt.

You take a deep breath as I shift slightly against the chair. The contrast between his warm palm and the coldness of his rings sends you a shiver down my spine. "Well, I find it more inappropriate to spy on someone while they are enjoying a private moment".

He let out a soft, mocking laugh, without changing his stance towards you. "Private moments? Please, there is nothing private about masturbating while watching pornography in a classroom." His voice comes out deep and the way he speaks feels so disgusting. "And regarding spying on you... Well, let's just say I occasionally keep an eye on you..."

His hand slowly moves up your thigh; the tips of his fingers brush the hem of your skirt. "You are desperate for attention, even if it means getting caught in compromising positions. "It's almost pathetic, really."

He tilted his head and observed your blushing face with a smug smile. "Tell me, have you ever fantasized about someone doing the same things to you as in those videos?"

You swallow nervously as you clench your thighs tightly together in an effort to stop his hand from seeming to sink deeper and deeper between your legs. "Why do you ask? Have you fantasized about being the person who does those things to me?" My voice comes out almost in a whisper.

He easily spreads your legs apart again with a firm grip. "Oh, I've fantasized about many things involving you, like bending you over this very desk and fucking you senseless until you beg for mercy." Your heart almost leaps out of your chest upon hearing his words.

He presses his body against the desk between the two of you, holding you in place while his free hand reaches out to tangle in your hair. He leans towards you and bites your earlobe before whispering, "I've imagined being the one to drive you crazy." He pulls your hair a little harder, making you let out a soft gasp of surprise. He is so close to your face that it seems like he is going to kiss you. "That way, I would show everyone that you're just an envious bitch, always behind me because you need me to fill you up with my cock until you can't take it anymore."

You are so astonished by the simplicity with which he pronounces his perverted and degrading words towards you that you just stand there, looking at him with wide eyes and your heart pounding against your chest.

Realizing that you can only look at him with astonished and embarrassed eyes, he lets out a defeated sigh before releasing your hair and getting up from his position. "You're a fucking coward," he states as he turns around and moves to leave the room. "You're a fucking coward," he says as he turns around and walks away, intending to leave the room.

You feel your blood boil at his words, not because he called you a bitch, a whore, or because he confessed how much he wants to fuck you, but simply because he called you a coward and envious.

You feel your blood boil at his words, not because he called you a bitch, a whore, or because he confessed how much he wants to fuck you, but simply because he called you cowardly and envious.

You stand up from your chair, and the sound of your materials spilling onto the floor due to the force with which you rise causes Heeseung to turn towards you, confused, catching your face red with anger and embarrassment. "What did you call me?" you mutter as you clench your fists at your sides.

Heeseung raises an eyebrow at you. "Bitch?" he questions. "Coward" you correct.

You slowly approach him, trying to look confident, but your steps remain uncertain and trembling.

Once you find yourself standing in front of him, you grab the collar of his shirt, and you smash your lips against his.

He lets out a furious sigh that he didn't know he was holding back before returning the kiss with a suffocating hunger, as he places his hands on your waist and presses your body against his, savoring the way your breasts press against his.

His tongue soon delved deeply into your mouth, savoring your saliva mixed with his, eliciting a gasp from you.

His body began to push you backward, guiding you during the kiss towards the desk. Once there, you pulled away from the kiss, looking at him with narrowed eyes. His beautiful swollen lips, his slightly red cheeks, and the collar of his shirt that was once perfectly arranged are now disheveled.

He smiled; that damn arrogant smile is the same smile he gave you after mocking your intelligence and skills, the same smile he gives when he corrects one of your contributions in class, the same smile he gives after having you tongue-tied.

He leans over, placing his hands on either side of his body on the desk. "Ah, so the little pervert is revealing herself." One of her legs pushed between yours, forcing you to open them and pressing her knee against your center.

"Stop calling me a pervert, idiot", you practically spat in his face.

"I think you're being too pedantic considering I can feel your wet pussy against my leg." To prove his point, he starts pushing his knees against you repeatedly.

The constant rubbing of the fabric of your wet panties against your clitoris makes you tremble and sigh. Unconsciously, your hips move in unison with his leg. "I'm only wet because you interrupted my orgasm a few minutes ago, definitely not because of you", you manage to say before a strong push from his leg makes you moan.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, princess, it was very rude of me to interrupt you; maybe I should make it up to you." He leans towards your neck and starts kissing your neck. Your hands grip his shirt tightly in an attempt to keep yourself grounded.

Something inside you bubbles; the feeling of anger and longing is intoxicating. A part of you just wants to hit him until he cries, but another part of you wants to rip off his pants and suck his cock until he cries. Before you can determine which feeling prevails, his fingers are quickly working on the buttons of your shirt while leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.

He briefly pulls away from your barely covered breasts by your cute bra. "You are beautiful", he declares, completely absorbed. The abrupt change in his words and the tone of his voice make you feel weak; it's as if your body has surrendered to him.

Your hips start moving desperately against him, feeling how occasionally your thigh brushes against his solid erection, which only serves as an incentive to move harder.

One of his hands moves to the small of your back to help you move against him, while the other slides your bra down and frees your breasts. He doesn't resist and brings one of his nipples to his mouth. With force and abundant saliva, causing a bit to escape from his mouth and slide down your chest.

The moans that escape your mouth are dirty, incoherent words. You feel your legs thrashing around his thigh as your orgasm approaches.

"Heeseung..." His name comes out so softly, so gently, barely audible, but he hears it, he definitely hears it. His head quickly turns away from your chest to look at you with the most serious expression you have ever seen on his face. "I... I am close..." You don't understand why you're notifying him, but there's something in his behavior that makes you feel so submissive.

"Let me help you with that." He brings both of his hands forward and lifts your skirt, exposing your completely ruined panties, which makes him laugh. One hand holds your skirt, and with the other, he slips a finger into the hem of your panties to move them aside, allowing your bare clitoris to rub against the fabric of his pants.

It's rough, strange, and delicious. You place all your weight on his legs while you continue chasing your orgasm.

The sight of your small, swollen, and wet clitoris makes him sigh and tense up in his pants. "Come on, go ahead, I want to see that cute pussy ruin my pants."

Her words seem to be enough to make you come with a muffled moan of her name. Your hands grip even tighter against his shirt and you bury your face in his chest in an attempt to muffle your moans.

A few seconds later, when your euphoria dissipated, you slowly withdrew your face from his chest. He reached for your face with one of his hands, gently squeezing your cheeks. "Obviously, this turned out to be more effective than doing it yourself." He stated with a playful tone. "Although... I still haven't had enough fun."

He grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to turn around and press your face against the desk. "Heeseung." You call him firmly, quickly understanding what he is trying to do.

His hands slide your panties down your legs and lift your skirt until it is rolled up at your waist. "You have a very nice little butt." He gives one of your cheeks a hard slap, making you jump and try to move away from the desk.

"Heeseung, we shouldn't..." You try to plead, but he grabs your hair roughly and pulls your body back towards the desk, exerting an even more intense pressure on your body than before.

"I'm not asking for permission." Then, you only hear the sound of his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his pants falling to the floor.

"I can't wait to fill this hole with my cum." He took his cock between his fingers and tapped its tip against your wet entrance, making his pre-cum mix with your arousal.

He aligns his red, dripping tip against your center. "Yes... It should fill you up so much that when you walk down the halls, my semen slides down your legs", he murmurs more to himself than to you.

His cock slides easily into you because of how wet you are. Once it hits bottom, a guttural moan escapes from both of you, and he throws his head back in pure ecstasy. "And when people notice and question you about it, you'll have to say it was me who went all the way." At this point, he was simply rambling.

You feel like it's piercing your uterus; your walls are incessantly struggling to accommodate its size. "Too, too... Big..." You gasp almost without air as you scratch the desk beneath you.

"Shh... Shh, calm down...". Her hips begin to grind against yours in an animalistic rhythm. "I know it's deep." He whispers in a tone that tries to be comforting.

A hoarse moan flows from his throat, causing you to tighten uncontrollably around him. "You're so fucking tight." He groans. "I should have at least inserted three fingers before fucking you." He was lying; he was fascinated by the almost painful way you squeezed him.

Again, he takes a handful of your hair between his fingers to pull you away from the desk, leaving your back aligned with his chest.

He takes your face in his hand and turns it so that your face is in front of his. What's wrong? "Why don't you say anything anymore?" He gives a particularly deep thrust that makes you moan and grimace with pleasure. "You're always so grumpy, but now that you have a cock inside you, it seems like you can't even think."

When you try to respond, a stream of nonsensical words and gasps comes out of you, making him laugh and his laughter echoes against your back.

"You are so tender" The sweet and affectionate way his words come out of his mouth surprises you so much that you turn your face a little more towards him, looking into his eyes through your lashes wet with some accumulated tears and a fucked-up, but so in-love expression.

His free hand, which isn't holding your face, moves to your lower abdomen, pressing right on the bulge of his cock. You follow him and bring one of your hands to his, intertwining your fingers with his.

The world seems to be completely silent, except for Heeseung's gasps and your sharp moans; you feel nothing else apart from the heat radiating from his body against yours.

He starts leaving wet kisses on your neck. "Fuck, you're so wet, so tight, so beautiful..." You are a bitch perfectly made for me. Growls in your hatred.

Your legs start to tremble; the knot in your stomach tightens even more. "Seungie... I'm close..."

"Yes? Are you going to squeeze your little pussy while you cum really hard on my cock?" he asked with a tone that, under other circumstances, would sound very cocky if it weren't for the pathetic moan that accompanied it.

You just nod desperately, not caring how pathetic you might look right now.

Before you realize it, your walls tighten around Heeseung. "Just like that, cum all over my cock." He pushes your body back onto the desk, pressing your cheek against it

His thrusts are careless and aimless as he chases your orgasm. "I'm going to fill you up so much that I'll leave you ruined for anyone else who tries to sleep with you."

You moan overstimulated as your juices start to drip out of you, creating a completely obscene splashing sound.

"My semen will stay so deep inside you that you'll never be able to get it all out." He presses his chest against your back, crushing your body against the writing. With one final thrust, the head of his cock buries itself in your womb as he spurts.

The sensation of his semen so deeply makes you feel relaxed and yet overwhelmed.

They stay like that for a moment, trying to properly process what just happened. "Get off me, you're suffocating me", you complain with an obvious lack of breath.

Heeseung laughs as he slowly pulls away and slides out, then gently takes you by the shoulders and helps you stand up and turn around so you are facing him.

You try to stand up straight, but your legs tremble and fail, so you almost fall to the ground if he hadn't held you tightly.

"I think I fuck you better than your stupid porn videos, little pervert."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[ak319]

Yan Regent Consort x fem reader

Headcanon

(Warnings: This story contains matriarchal themes, fem dom such as mpreg, fem dominated world, role reversal, and BXG pairing! Yes, it's a boy x girl, so don't interact if you are not comfortable!!)

Xu Junlai was a boy who held different roles in the eyes of others, son to some, friend to some, an object of admiration or envy to others. He was born into a family of five sons and two daughters. His mother, Xu Huang, served as a minister in the court, while his father, Xu... well, he wasn’t married into the Xu family, he was merely a concubine of Junlai’s mother. Because of this, Junlai never received familial love, not from his step-siblings and not even from his mother, who was always either too busy or uninterested in family matters. Her absence from his life gave his brothers free rein to treat him as they pleased.

His oldest sibling was his sister, Xu Tai, whom everyone feared. She didn’t particularly dote on him, but she maintained order in the household whenever she returned from her training and service in the army. Xu Tai had high ambitions for the country, aspiring one day to become a commander or much better a General. His other sister, Xu Ai, was studying to be a scholar; she was a year older than Junlai, who himself was the second youngest in the family.

Junlai had long learned that if he didn’t stand up for himself and speak for himself, he would live a life of misery and eventually die alone, perhaps with no one to mourn his passing. So, he did speak for himself when necessary. A hard life had forced him into this role. It wasn’t as if anyone liked him before, or that he had earned any respect, so what was there to lose?

He had passions that he quietly pursued, calligraphy, reading books, sneakily borrowing them from Tai’s library at the estate and, most importantly, dancing. Yet he was made fun of, and ridiculed for his interests.

“Your father was a prostitute, and you doing this seems to scream that you are on the same path. You disgrace,” his stepfather, Xu Fen, sneered. But his words never truly hurt Junlai.

“But your sons are learning such skills too. Are they on the same path?”

“THEY ARE NOT! They are doing that so that when the time arises, they will be presented to the court for the new Empress and her harem. That is where their skills will shine; being a Xu, that is inevitable. You, however…”

“Mother may not have married my father, but she openly acknowledged that I have been granted the name Xu.”

“So? What are you--oh--so you want to enter the court? That might be the funniest thing I’ve heard this week. Part of the reason your presence here is sometimes bearable. Have you seen yourself? There is nothing graceful about you, such venomous features, that blank face, eyes like a devil’s. You are someone any woman would avoid, not bed.” Fen’s cackles echoed in the distance as Junlai stood in the garden, his usual blank expression firmly in place.

The court? But he didn’t desire any of that. That was a life of hell. As if my life is better now... Harem or no harem, at least he could demonstrate his skills and take a jab at his useless brothers. Perhaps that was the most thrilling part of it all. There was absolutely no chance that an Empress or even the Emperor Dowager would allow the son of a prostitute to enter the harem.

So, Junlai practised night after night, in the empty hall that felt both sacred and suffocating. The flickering candles cast shadows that danced like ghosts on the walls, whispering secrets of long-forgotten elegance. The sound of anklets chimed like distant bells, while the rustle of silken fabric filled the air, wrapping around him like a lover’s embrace. In the dim light, his body became a fluid extension of art, each movement imbued with a haunting beauty that could draw anyone into his graceful orbit. And perhaps, just perhaps, the voice that emerged from his lips was powerful enough to ensnare even the coldest of hearts.

But one fateful night, when he miraculously received permission from his mother to join the ceremony, everything changed. Three of his brothers discovered him lost in his usual routine, an ethereal vision in the half-light. As always, he expected their laughter, their scorn, but no... that night, the hall, once a sanctuary, transformed into a chamber of horrors.

Instead of melodies, the air was filled with his screams as they pinned him down, the laughter of his brothers echoing like a dark symphony. They poured scalding water over his feet, the pain searing through him, brutal and unrelenting--just a week before the ceremony.

═════ ◈ ═════

The day of the ceremony arrived, and you, the new Empress, had only been on the throne for a year after successfully defeating your sisters for the throne. However you were overwhelmed by the throng of men entering your court, you sat in silence, your mind already planning the next day's work while subtly noting the movements and behaviours of your court members.

The musical festivities began, likely your father's favorite part, as it allowed him to exert his influence over the affairs of the men. You had little energy to deal with such trivialities, and the classification of men in this way unsettled you. Your mother was deeply involved in it all, and you loathed the thought of it.

"Those are the sons of the Xu family, good-looking, aren't they?" your father remarked, his voice dripping with expectation. Your head snapped to his direction, and for a fleeting moment, you glanced at the display before you.

“Um, yes,” you replied, your tone devoid of enthusiasm.

Your father internally rolled his eyes at your lacklustre response. You might have bedded a few men and have a son with one of the concubines, but it was clear you weren’t taking any of them seriously. 'This idiot daughter of mine, clearly not worried about not having an heir still. By now your mother would have had three-'

"They came for you, so at least enjoy it a bit. If you prefer any changes, the music, the dance-"

"It's fine, Father. It's fine."

You granted your approval to Xu Huang in the end, an honest minister in your eyes, someone even your mother trusted. Her daughter, Tai, was a formidable warrior, perhaps the first to impress you with her skills.

As dinner commenced, no one anticipated the doors to swing open once more. A lone figure stepped into the hall, drawing everyone's attention, including yours. He was slender, his long hair tousled—surprisingly beautiful even in such disarray. Those eyes of his, empty yet hauntingly deep, bore into yours with an intensity that both intrigued and unsettled you.

His walk was seductive yet exuded an aura of defeat and determination. Silence enveloped the hall, a palpable tension as he stood in the centre, commanding attention. That’s when you noticed his feet, bare and crimson. You were certain that if you looked closer, you would see the dark stains of blood marring his skin.

It felt as though the entire court was holding its breath, waiting for you to question him. Just then, you caught the whisper of Xu Huang, “Son…” from her seat a few feet away.

Her son?

"Are you... Xu’s son?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued.

He nodded.

“Um--your Majesty, he was sick, so he couldn't perform earlier, although his name was registered on the list by me…” Xu Huang explained, her voice steady yet tinged with concern. You responded with a curt nod, your mind racing.

“If you are sick, then you shouldn’t be here,” you asserted, a protective instinct rising within you. You were certain the sickness plagued his feet. There was no way you would allow him to dance under such conditions.

“I want to dance,” he replied, his voice challenging and unwavering.

The spark in his tone caught you off guard. What an odd boy...

“Very well. Then do. I would like to see you dance,” you commanded, a blend of intrigue fluttering in your chest

“Your Majes-” Xu Huang began, but your glare silenced her immediately.

“Begin.”

As the sounds of the pipa and hulusi filled the hall, an almost electric hush fell over the audience. Everyone shifted their attention from their meals to the boy dancing, his presence so captivating that even your father, Wang Hua, sat bewildered. A simmering anger brewed within him as he grappled with his own intrigue. Are you seriously interested in him?

Though Hua possessed some knowledge about the boy, witnessing the fluidity and artistry of his dance made those thoughts melt away. Junlai moved as if in a trance, each motion a hauntingly beautiful expression that stirred something deep within you. The performance was mesmerizing, drawing you into a world that felt both ethereal and painfully real.

The only glimmer of envy and fury came from Junlai’s own brother and step-father, their faces twisted in disdain as they seethed at the spectacle before them. Even the blood that dripped from Junlai’s feet onto the glass-like floor seemed to only heighten their ire. They couldn’t maintain your gaze for even a moment, while Junlai seemed to command the room effortlessly, as if reigning over it with merely a flick of his wrist.

As the final echoes of Junlai’s performance faded, your ears, now deprived of the boy’s beautiful voice, were met once again with a profound silence that enveloped the hall.

Junlai stood with his gaze cast down, a picture of humility, while you rose from the podium, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. A ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd, their eyes wide with curiosity about what would unfold next. To your surprise, the boy barely flinched as you stood before him, towering over his slight frame.

“Name?” you inquired, your voice steady.

“Junlai,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And who did this to you...?” You leaned closer, searching his eyes for the truth.

His neutral gaze met yours, and you sensed a flicker of vulnerability beneath his composed exterior.

“People... whom I would rather not talk about on such a glorious day... a day for you, my Majesty.” He lowered himself in a respectful bow, his head tilting downward, yet his posture remained defiantly graceful.

“Is that so...?” you mused, glancing at Naun, your attendant, who stood discreetly behind a pillar to your left. She nodded subtly, understanding the unspoken command in your gaze.

This boy not only is now part of your harem but...your choice for the night.

You were resolute, you would not entertain the other sons of the Xu family. What need had you for them? Junlai’s dance eclipsed all of theirs combined, a testament to his raw talent and spirit. You were not greedy, you simply sought the best. And he was not only the best but also intriguingly peculiar, a captivating boy you were eager to indulge in and explore further.

As you crawled on top of him, Junlai had been cleaned and prepared for your gaze, yet a small part of you missed his disheveled appearance, the wild, untamed beauty that spoke of his struggles. You soothed yourself with the reminder that he would soon return to that captivating state.

“When I asked you about the culprits, you didn’t name them. You don’t want me to punish them?” you murmured, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, relishing the softness of his skin as he leaned into your rough hand.

“But you already have... by choosing me,” he replied, a hint of defiance in his voice. You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound deep and rich. “You are... something, you know. I have never encountered a boy like you... but I always wanted to.”

“I never wanted this... to be in the bed of an empress, in her harem, but here I am…” His words hung in the air, laced with a surprising confidence. Something about you made him bold enough to voice such thoughts. You didn’t seem as cold and cruel as the whispers suggested, those comparisons to your mother fading in the warmth of his gaze.

Your deep chuckle reverberated against his neck, sending shivers coursing through his body. “Oh, how lucky I am then. More fortunate than any empress, for having caught you.” You pulled away slightly to meet his eyes, searching for the flicker of fear, but finding only intrigue. “Being in a harem means being mine, and I take care of what I own.”

“Do you fear me, Junlai?” you asked, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “You should...."

His heart raced at the challenge in your tone. “I don’t fear you, your Majesty. I only fear what I might become under your rule,” he replied, daring to meet your intense gaze.

“Ah, but isn’t that the thrill of it all?” You leaned in closer, your lips brushing tantalizingly against his ear as you spoke. A gasp left his plump lips as you nibbled on it.

Junlai’s breath quickened as your gaze pierced into him, as if you were seeing not just the boy he was but the depths of his soul. The air thickened with an intoxicating blend of fear and desire. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, enveloping him in a cocoon of both safety and peril.

Your fingers danced down his arm, tracing delicate patterns that ignited his skin, setting his nerves alight. Junlai's breath hitched as he felt the heat of your body press against him, a heady mix of power and vulnerability.

“Do you see how beautifully broken you are?” you continued, your voice low and mesmerizing.

Junlai felt the walls around his heart tremble, caught in the magnetic pull of your words. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the challenge now tinged with uncertainty.

“Everything.” Your lips curled into a wicked smile, a promise of the chaos to come. “I want your loyalty, your obedience, and most importantly, your heart. I will not only keep you in my harem, I will make you my most cherished treasure.”

As you leaned closer again, your lips tantalizingly brushing against his, he could feel the weight of your intentions, his robe being done deftly by your rough fingers. “Now, are you ready to dance for me?” you asked, your eyes glinting with mischief and hunger."

Junlai nodded, a flicker of excitement igniting within him. At that moment, he was no longer just a boy marked by pain, he was a dancer, ready to twirl and leap into the unknown, to be claimed by you.

═════ ◈ ═════

Junlai sat in the veranda, gazing out at the distant mountains with a forlorn expression, his slender fingers tapping absently on the polished wooden rail. Though the quarters designated for the favored concubine were lavish, adorned with silks and priceless porcelain, the space felt hollow without you. If only he could give you a daughter, the coveted title of consort would be his. The thought flitted through his mind like an unreachable dream. And yet, as the days stretched into months, it was your absence that gnawed at him, leaving him restless and aching.

God, when would you return from the campaign? Two months had passed, each day heavier than the last. He endured the whispers, and the scorn from the other concubines who mocked him for his damaged feet, but he bore it all without flinching. He knew you valued him for his skill, his grace, the things that went beyond mere perfection. You had appointed the empire's finest healers to tend to him, a silent reassurance that he still held a place in your heart.

Even the Emperor Dowager, shrewd and discerning, seemed to favour him, perhaps because he respected his daughter's choices or was mesmerized by his art. Either way, his endorsement granted him a measure of safety within the harem’s hostile world. And yet, safety was far from his mind. He spent sleepless nights worrying about you, imagining the dangers you might face, each possible harm a dagger in his chest. His own safety meant nothing if you were not there, by his side, safe and triumphant. He danced in the empty hall , every night, all night even. His gaze at the marble wall at the end, imagining you sitting in your throne watching his performance. Every word, every step a testimony for your longing. If anyone else saw him at night , they would be scared for their life.

A boy dancing as if he was possessed.

What had he become? Another lovesick boy, a fool just like his father, infatuated, aching, lost to his devotion. He had once vowed never to become so vulnerable, and yet here he was, the intensity of his love binding him more than duty or obligation ever could. He used to revel in this power, at first motivated by pride, even defiance, to show his brothers that he had won something they could never touch. But now, with every beat of his heart, every drop of his blood, he was wholly, helplessly, irrevocably yours.

Although not long ago, one significant shift rippled through the palace, Xu Tai, the skilled warrior whose loyalty you trusted, was now appointed as General. Junlai took comfort in this news. His sister's allegiance was unwavering, and her impressive abilities spoke for themselves. You chose her for her skill and integrity, qualities Junlai respected, and even admired from afar. He knew that with Tai at the helm, your interests, and your life, were in capable hands.

He hadn’t anticipated finding peace in such a development, yet knowing Tai held this position gave him a strange sense of relief. However when he just received a letter from Tai herself, that sense of relief seemed to diminish.

You had been poisoned by an arrow at the battlefield. Thankfully the physician present did their best to take it out but it was unknown if you would come back alive. The news was also sent to the Emperor and eventually spread over the harem and then the country.

The news struck the palace like a tempest. Word spread first as whispers in dimly lit corridors, then as gasps behind silken fans, until eventually, the rumours became cries of despair from every corner of the empire. The Empress has been poisoned, they said, her life teetering on the edge. The harem held its breath, the concubines offering quiet prayers. Yet amidst them all, Junlai felt as though his entire world had shattered.

Days passed in agonizing limbo, and Junlai clung to any scrap of information he could gather. The air in his chambers grew thick with dread, the whispers of the other concubines like needles against his skin. Would she return? Could she survive this? He tried to still his racing heart, to banish the wretched possibilities that plagued him day and night, but his mind clung stubbornly to images of your pale face, the way you looked as he’d last seen you, strong, assured, untouchable.

But now, you were mortal. Wounded. Vulnerable.

He’d never felt so powerless. Each night he would sit in the garden, his injured feet barely feeling the cold stone beneath them as he gazed at the stars, praying fervently for your safety. Let her come back to me, he whispered into the darkness. Take my health, my strength, take anything you want, but let her live.

The news of the looming threat reached the palace in the dead of night, casting a shadow over an already grief-stricken palace. The Chief Minister summoned her closest advisors including Xu Huang, the walls of the council chamber echoing with grave voices as they strategized. The Wei Dynasty had betrayed them, their forces striking not only on the battlefield but now threatening the heart of the empire, taking advantage of your absence. This insidious plot was spearheaded by the rebel leader Guo Wang, a lecherous woman of ruthless ambition and bloodthirsty intent. Her name alone sent ripples of fear through the court, her reputation for savagery preceding her.

The capital was left vulnerable in a way it hadn’t been for years. With Tai, your most loyal and capable General, at your side on the battlefield, and your position as Empress left temporarily vacant, the capital was guarded only by lesser warriors and the remaining commanders, a force barely sufficient for an ambush of this scale.

Junlai’s despair deepened. He had kept his composure in the wake of your injury, holding fast to the hope that you would return to him. But now the looming threat to the capital turned that sorrow into fear and fury. He knew what would come if Guo Wang breached the palace walls, the carnage that woman would wreak upon all in her path. The court, the innocents of the capital, and, he shuddered, the vulnerable harem.

He understood now what his sister had never fully articulated, the key to victory was not in repeating the old ways, but in disrupting the enemy's expectations. And Guo Wang’s forces? They would be expecting the standard defences. They would expect the palace to hide behind walls, women in armour standing guard at every gate. That was their mistake. Junlai knew better. But being a man and more so a mere consort was something that Junlai couldn't change. Nobody would listen to him. Two weeks left before the Guo reaches them even if Tai had sent for backup to the capital, it would have taken them a bit longer to get here.

No, he would not let this slide. The audacity to kill you , trying to take you AWAY FROM HIM!?. He will fucking lay corpses upon corpses of these disgusting pieces of filth. He will BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!

"I will not rest until I see you fall, Guo Wang..."

═════ ◈ ═════

"Mother, please. Trust me. You have to listen-"

"Your only job is to stay here, in the harem, and bear her children! Leave the military and court decisions to the court and the Empress."

Xu Huang froze, his chest tightening at the cold dismissal. His mother, ever so pragmatic, always intent on keeping him within the narrow boundaries of what was deemed acceptable for someone of his position. But tonight, he couldn’t bear it anymore. The years of suffocating silence, the weight of expectations that had been placed on him, all of it came crashing down in a wave of defiance.

"BUT I AM DOING THIS FOR THE EMPRESS!" His voice rang out, sharp and unforgiving. Xu Huang recoiled as if struck, the shock of his outburst still fresh in the air. But his fury only seemed to fuel him further. "Her Majesty’s court, her harem... I will not let some barbarian come in and tear it all apart. And don’t forget it, Mother!" He took a step forward, his voice thick with venom, his eyes burning with a passion he hadn’t allowed himself to show before. The tears were a mask, barely held together by his pride.

"I WILL protect her, and I WILL protect this dynasty."

He let his words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. He stood taller now, a dangerous glint in his eye, as he moved closer, letting the venomous truth seep into every syllable. "As for bearing children, oh sure, I will. But I won’t do it for you. I’ll do it for ME. For MY future. I’ll be elevated, not you. You will always remain a slave to the system, while I may one day be a part of the Wang dynasty. And you know what that could mean." His voice dropped to a low, almost mocking tone. "How do you think Tai became the General? If I can place someone on the board, I can just as easily toss them out."

There was a flicker of uncertainty in Xu Huang’s eyes at the mention of Tai, but it was quickly masked. He knew the truth, he had no such influence, but the bluff was enough. It was enough to make his mother tremble. The stoic, unflinching woman who had held him back his entire life now looked unsure, her hands gripping the edge of the table as if seeking something to steady herself.

"What are you proposing?" Her voice, cold as ever, betrayed the slight quiver in her tone. She had heard his words, but was she truly willing to listen?

Junlai smirked, the edge of triumph curling at the corners of his lips. "Now, we are talking."

═════ ◈ ═════

Junlai had always been more than just a skilled dancer; his mind was a sharp, calculating instrument that never ceased its relentless pursuit of efficiency and innovation. While the others focused on traditional warfare, the old strategies, sieging, ambushing, and brute force, Junlai saw only limitations. What he needed was an advantage that would catch their enemies off guard, something that no one had considered. The answer, as it often was, lay in nature.

Birds.

The idea came to him one evening while he watched the flock of crows circling above the harem. Their wings cutting through the air with precision, their effortless movement, a pattern of chaos within perfect order. It wasn't just the birds that caught his attention, but the fact that they held the power to burn.

In the markets, there had been whispers of incendiary techniques used by distant lands, fire-starting mechanisms using birds trained to carry torches. The court dismissed this concept as superstition, yet to Junlai, it was a brilliant, unrecognised weapon.

Junlai would need to launch the birds at night when the enemy's defences were at their weakest. The element of surprise would be vital, he knew that as soon as the birds were released, they would need to fly directly to their targets, avoiding the natural predators and the dangers of interception. So he had the women train them, following his instructions.

He took advantage of the dark sky, the birds’ natural night-flying abilities, to send them directly into the heart of Guo Wang’s camp. The wind, as if in cooperation with his plan, would be at their backs, ensuring that the fires would spread faster.

The moment the birds were released, the chaos began.

As the trained crows took flight, their wings slicing through the air like silent messengers of destruction, the fire lit up, first softly, then raging. Guo Wang's forces had no warning, no time to react. They watched in horror as the embers from above ignited their tents, their supplies, and worst of all, their weapons.

The women who had been enlisted as fighters, strong in their defiance but unprepared for such an assault, panicked as the fire spread, consuming their weapons and armour. Their leaders scrambled, but the flames had already done the work. The camp was ablaze, confusion and terror rippling through the ranks. The birds had burned their half camp, crippled their supply chain, and taken away the one thing they held most precious, control.

Thus, it made it easier for the soldiers to attack Guo's forces and easily win. Junlai watched with pride as he saw Guo's head impaled and being paraded around inside the castle's walls. A perfect homecoming gift for you. A gift to prove that he was not just a man in your harem, but someone who would do anything to ensure your reign remained unchallenged. Which made him again fall into a pit of worry for your return.

"Her Majesty has returned!" one of the attendants announced, her voice echoing down the hall.

Junlai stood in the corridor of the harem, his heart pounding in his chest. He had not realized how much he had missed you until the news arrived, that you were finally returning from the battlefield, victorious, but at a terrible cost. The victory meant nothing if it came at the cost of your well-being.

He watched from the shadows with along with other concubines as you entered, your face a bit pale but overall with no less than a sturdy and imperial aura. Your steps echoed in the hall as you greeted your father, your son and for a fleeting moment, met his gaze.

His mind was torn between wanting to rush to you and knowing that you would hate such an open display. So, he waited, watching, every fibre of his being aching to be near you.

And you called him finally, after two painful days.

"I... Your Majesty," Junlai's voice cracked slightly, betraying his calm facade. He couldn't hide the flood of emotions that coursed through him, the concern, the longing, the worry. He took another step closer, his voice low, "You came back... but how long will it take until you're truly well again?"

You always held yourself in such high regard, and the idea of being seen as anything less than the Empress was a bitter pill to swallow.

"I am better," you said, your tone firm, but Junlai could see the exhaustion etched into your features. "The battle was won, and my soldiers did well. That's enough for me."

Junlai stood in front of you now, so close that he could reach out and touch you if he dared. His gaze softened even further, and for a moment, the two of you simply stood there, him staring into your eyes, his heart heavy with the thoughts he didn’t dare speak aloud. Then he was finally graced with your embrace causing him to breakdown.

"Whatever it takes. Just... don’t push yourself too hard. You need rest." He whispered getting his act together.

You gestured for him to sat beside you on the bed. "I heard from Father...about what you did." He gulped, his form of being just...a boy in love under your gaze.

"I... I just... couldn't-- I had to! I did it all in fear of what might... happen..." You raised his chin.

"You didn't do it for love, then?"

"Of course I did! I did it for you only!" He grasped your hand against his cheek, his eyes filling with tears, his voice breaking at every word. "You... have no idea... what... torture it was for me to live after knowing that happened to you... my Queen. It was worse than death itself."

A hint of a smile graced your lips. "I am proud of you. I am... proud of my choice too..." You gazed lovingly at his face and wiped his tears, pulling his frail body to your chest. "Tai told me you... always had an interest in warfare... sneaked in to read her books."

His heart stopped. His sister... knew? All this time... she did? Yet she...

"Um... I--- yes." His whole body shivered when your deep chuckle traveled to every cell in his body.

"I have made a... decision."

His hands fisted your tunic in anticipation. "You will be the Regent consort here when I am away. You will manage the harem, manage the safety of the capital, it's people. Charities and all."

Junlai’s heart skipped a beat. His initial instinct was to deny, to say that it was nothing, that he just did his duty and wanted nothing more than to be a mere slave to your love. But the way you spoke to him with a glint of respect, of something more than just duty, it made him pause.

You saw him. Truly saw him.

He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the trembling in his hands, the heat in his chest. Regent consort. The title echoed in his mind like a promise, like a dream he had never dared to imagine. No man had ever had it...it didn't even exist until now. He would be the first man in history to have that. He will be known by every generation to come..

"But--but I... I don't deserve it," he stammered, the weight of your approval sinking into him. "I am... only a concubine, someone who had no right to such a role. You shouldn't place such responsibility on me."

You leaned closer, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture, lifting his gaze with a gentle but firm pressure. "You don’t need to deserve it, Junlai," you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of your conviction. "You have already proven your loyalty, your cunning, and your heart."

You emphasized with a small but significant shift in tone, "You are my mind in the harem. You will ensure that my absence does not shake the foundations of this dynasty. You will stand guard over the people, the capital... everything I’ve worked for."

Junlai’s hands clenched tighter around your tunic as he processed the weight of your words. The enormity of the role, the responsibility, it was almost too much. But the way you spoke, the way you believed in him, gave him a strength he didn’t know he had.

"Are you afraid?" you asked, your voice soft but direct, your eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his knees weak.

He paused, feeling a swirl of emotions churn in his chest. Fear. Desire. Ambition. Hope. They all mixed together until he couldn’t tell where one feeling ended and another began. But he was honest with you, always. "Yes," he said simply. "I am afraid. But if it means standing by your side... I will do whatever it takes."

You smiled at him, a slow, dangerous smile that made his breath catch in his throat. "Good," you said, leaning in closer, your voice dropping to a low murmur and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

He had never imagined that the harem would become more than just a gilded cage. He had never imagined that he would be the one trusted to hold the reins when you were away. But now, it felt like everything was changing.

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But there was none. Only a quiet confidence that he knew, deep down, was meant for him.

"I won’t let you down," he whispered, his voice steady with determination, even as the weight of his new role settled over him like a mantle. "I will protect everything you’ve built, Empress. And I will make sure that no one dares challenge your rule."

You let out a satisfied sigh, your fingers trailing down the length of his arm as you leaned back, taking in the sight of him, your trusted consort, your mind in the harem.

His eyes softened, and for the first time since the battle, since everything had changed, he felt a flicker of peace settle in his chest. There was no going back now. But for the first time, he didn’t want to. He had you. And that was all that mattered.

Junlai leaned into you then, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath steadying as he let himself savor the moment, the moment where everything shifted, where he was no longer just a boy in your harem but the one who would protect everything you held dear.

Though, he mustn't forget one last thing~~

═════ ◈ ═════

"Ju-nlai?" Xu Fen stammered, his face twisting into an expression of disbelief. The boy, no, the boy, who once knelt before him, who had suffered beneath his cruelty, now stood in front of him as a figure that exuded nothing but cold authority. The sight rattled Fen to his core.

Junlai’s gaze locked onto him, dead and distant, as though he were staring through him. “I came to meet my brothers,” he said, his voice as calm as the still waters of a lake, but carrying the weight of a storm hidden just beneath the surface.

“Oh really? Why is that?” Fen’s words dripped with thinly veiled disdain, though his insides were anything but calm. He took a cautious step backward, uncertain of what Junlai intended. The boy had always been an afterthought, a lesser player in the family’s schemes. But that had changed, and Fen knew it.

Junlai’s eyes flickered over the room, moving like cold knives, and finally settled on the women standing behind him. His gaze was hollow, merciless. “Are you going to bring them out, or...?" His words trailed off, but the implication was clear. He wasn’t asking, he was commanding. His tone had a chilling finality, as though the fate of everyone in that room rested solely in his hands now.

Fen felt the air constrict around him, the tension thickening with each passing second. He swallowed hard, unable to hide his discomfort. With a reluctant sigh and a sour expression, he turned on his heel and went to summon the others, though it pained him to do so. He knew it was futile to resist. The man who stood in his mansion now was not the boy he had once controlled but something far more dangerous.

Minutes passed, each one dragging as Fen stood nervously, but when the Xu brothers arrived, they entered with a mixture of curiosity and defiance. They were offended, of course, by Junlai’s sudden appearance, but there was a deeper undercurrent of fear in their eyes

"Same as always..." Junlai murmured to himself, but his smile, if it could even be called that, was something else entirely. It was a sharp, knowing grin, filled with something dangerous. His voice rose, becoming almost melodic in its dark amusement. "Which is going to make it more fun!"

For the first time in the Xu household, the black sheep of the family, Junlai, let out a laugh, but it was no ordinary laugh. It was a hollow, manic laugh that seemed to echo off the walls. The sound was unsettling, almost inhuman, a reminder of the twisted journey that had led him to this moment.

Junlai’s eyes never left them as he spoke again, his voice low and chilling. “You see… I’ve come to remind you what happens when you think you can break me. You’ve burned me before… but now, I’m going to return the favour.”

Fen’s heart skipped a beat. He had always thought he could control Junlai, keep him beneath his bootheel. He had been wrong.

“Now, I think it’s time for you to understand what it feels like.”

It took one subtle gesture from Junlai and the guards moved quickly, and efficiently, grabbing the Xu brothers and laying them down on the floor. Their hands were bound, their legs spread wide, and Junlai’s eyes glinted with a dangerous gleam as he stepped closer, his boots making a soft but deliberate thud with each step. The room seemed to grow colder.

"No--p-please...forgive them...NO! I BEG YOU!" Fen's voice mixed with his son's pleas as well which earned him a slap from Junlai. That was all it took to reduce them to sobs and whimpers.

"Shut your fucking mouth, whore. And watch." He dug his hands into Fen's hair and steadied him beside himself. "Look, how cute they look." He giggled.

The guard poured more water onto the brothers' feet, the boiling liquid now bubbling and splashing as it engulfed their limbs. The screams grew louder, desperate. One of the brothers jerked against his restraints, his body writhing in pain, but there was nowhere to go. Fen could hear their flesh sizzling, the sound of raw skin peeling and blistering under the scalding heat. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He had put them through this once before. Now it was his turn to witness the consequences. God, he always loved fire and its power. In fact, he began to see himself in it. Agile, dangerous, unyielding and most importantly, passionate when it came to you.

Fen watched, trembling, as the heat of the water burned into the skin of his sons. Junlai stood tall, his form casting a long shadow over the brothers writhing in pain, and spoke in a voice that resonated with unrelenting authority: “Let this be a reminder, boys." As he turned to leave, his guards following behind him, the sound of his laughter lingered in the air, a dark, triumphant melody that filled the hearts of those who heard it with dread.

Now is the turn of some concubines who have been acting up recently in your absence. Surely, they won't mind a little visit, right?

"Everyone stresses out your father soo much, don't they?" He cooed , caressing his flat abdomen as he settled in the carriage.

Nevertheless, it's all entertainment for him.

[haveihitanerve]

Dad How Do I but with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce who teaches life advice- showing kids how to tie a tie, how to tie their shoes, braid their hair, teaching young adults to do taxes, to surf, the best lawyers to hire when in trouble, how to avoid scams, he educates the less fortunate on the best places to get free food, where to go in Wayne Enterprises for a hot shower and some toiletries, how to eat at formal functions so the higher elite have one less thing to criticize them on. He teaches people how to do card tricks and make your niece laugh by pulling out a quarter from behind her ear, teaches moms how to rock their baby to sleep properly, teaches teens to do front flips and cartwheels and calculus, educates them on how to write job applications and two weeks notice letters. He teaches people to sew, to cook(alfred helps) to assemble an IKEA shelf, how to work a lawn mower, and all sorts of different things. And when his son dies… Bruce uses his account to share his grief, his story, shares everything about Jason, what a delight he was, how awesome he was, how much he loved to read and school… and then one day, he gets Batman to join a video. And the hero is stiff and everyone can see the exhaustion, the anger and sadness in his joints, his movements, radiating off him. But he sits down heavily into the chair Bruce Wayne had previously vacated… and begins to speak. He tells the story of Robin, his young child sidekick, who just like Jason Wayne, was murdered by the Joker. He tells everyone how his little boy tried to save Jason Todd, and how they both perished in the aftermath. He tells people about his grief, his anger, and why Batman is suddenly harsher and hurts more. “Because I hurt more.” he confesses quietly, and the people finally get to meet the man behind the mask (figuratively) and truly get to see who their hero really is. The account’s popularity skyrockets, and soon Batman is a lot more common to be seen, teaching people how to defend themselves and handle the Batarangs he knows they collect after he fights. Nightwing shows up too sometimes, teaching more elegant flips and tricks and they demonstrate their workout together, and a few months later, Batman shyly introduces his new Robin, same messy black hair as the one before, but slightly smaller, and theres something… more behind those lenses in his mask. But the kid is soon a fan favorite, making sarcastic comments and countering Nightwings witty remarks, and the people get to see a new side of Batman, get to watch as he rolls his eyes at them, as he uses them to teach people how to disguise themselves, ways to use clothes to stem blood, tie tourniquets. 

Then Red Hood returns. And a kid in Crime Alley catches him cursing at his jacket because a button fell off and he cant get it back on. “Um! Mr. Red Hood sir?” the kid pipes anxiously. Red Hood turns to him, angry, but the kid doesn't back down and just goes “You should watch ‘Mr. Wayne How Do I: Sewing’ it'll help.” and then he scampers off. And Jason is pissed and even more angry because of course while he was dead Bruce decides to become a father to everyone in Gotham. But he watches the video. And it helps. And… well, its one of the older videos. And Jason finds another old video. The one about… the one about his death. It shouldn't make his anger lessen, shouldn't make him cry, shouldn't bring him to Bruce’s doorstep where he reveals himself and they hug and cry and catch up and cry some more… but it does. 

Gothamites are a little surprised when their local Crime Lord appears on the channel, standing right next to Batman. Surprised, but pleased. Because Batman looks happy in a way he hasn't in a long time and well… Red Hood watched out for them too. And now their two protectors are working together.

[mstase]

— VENUS ASPECTS & your attractive features 🦢

these are just based on my observations and experience. don’t take it seriously, and take what resonates. [more applicable with the easy aspects]

☀️ sun-venus: you have an easygoing and likeable aura that makes it easy for people to connect with you. your sincere love for making connections with others is evident, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. the natural charm you possess is a noticeable aspect of your personality, adding to your social popularity. when interacting with others, you show tolerance and acceptance, always striving to maintain a harmonious environment for everyone. also, your graceful manner and excellent sense of style are prominent, leaving a lasting impression on people you come across.

🌙 moon-venus: you have a motherly, comforting energy, regardless of gender. you are kind and nurturing, making the atmosphere around you calm and peaceful. there’s something unique about how you make others feel safe and cared for, showing that you naturally understand and respond to their needs. you are known for being warm and loving, making connections with others through friendliness and genuine affection. you work hard to have positive relationships, and your charming personality makes others feel comfortable around you effortlessly.

🗣️ mercury-venus: you have a calming voice, and you’re skilled at speaking with the right words and have a good sense of how language flows. your way of communicating is marked by being polite and diplomatic, and you express your ideas thoughtfully. your sociable nature and excellent social skills make it easy for you to connect with others. also, your artistic talents are evident, and you’re good at giving compliments and advice. your expertise in literary works adds depth to your communication skills, making you a well-rounded and engaging communicator.

🔥 mars-venus: your allure goes beyond mere appearance; it’s genuinely charming. the way you move, whether it’s dancing or engaging in sports, adds to your appeal. you possess a pleasing figure and athletic prowess, showcasing noticeable muscles. your enthusiasm for connecting with others shows a vibrant and fun-loving personality. adventure is a constant companion as you actively seek it out. there’s a natural inclination for artistic endeavors in you, passionately engaging with them. overall, there’s an intriguing quality about you that captures attention, making you popular.

⭐ jupiter-venus: your upbeat and friendly personality has a way of making people feel drawn to your positive energy. you warmly welcome others with your generous and honest nature, and your big-heartedness leads you to give a lot to those you care about. what makes you even more charming is your great sense of humor and love for fun, which make you naturally attractive to those in your social circle. your ability to share positivity and connect with others, combined with your giving nature, creates strong and memorable bonds with the people around you.

🪐 saturn-venus: you carry yourself with composure and respect in your interactions, demonstrating maturity and creating a sense of security for others. people place their trust in you due to your reliable and grounded nature. you are loyal and dedicated, making you a trustworthy and committed person. your sense of elegance and sophistication is evident in your appreciation for aesthetics and good taste. there is a blend of grace and softness in your beauty, marking you with a distinctive and appealing charm that sets you apart.

🌀 uranus-venus: your natural inclination for spontaneity and unpredictability brings a lively and dynamic vibe to those around you. this ability to embrace the unexpected not only keeps things interesting but also injects excitement and different perspectives into situations. your love for change is another aspect of your character, enabling you to infuse a sense of freshness into people and spark their curiosity about you. your personality, marked by its erratic nature, adds to an electrifying and eye-catching presence, making you stand out easily.

🌊 neptune-venus: you are a talented person who thrives in a variety of creative pursuits. your gentle and kind nature has a calming impact on those around you. imagination and sensitivity play crucial roles in shaping your character as you perceive the world through a dreamy and idealistic lens, consistently recognizing the best in everyone. your compassionate and empathetic nature makes you approachable, and you often go out of your way to help others. your energy is particularly captivating, exuding a soft and tender beauty that reflects your personality.

🕷️ pluto-venus: your character is marked by passion and depth, as you wholeheartedly give, creating an unforgettable presence. your intensity is palpable, and your emotions resonate strongly, impacting not only yourself but also those you encounter. you may naturally come across as upfront and confident, leaving a strong impression on others. your distinct and captivating features shine, especially when embracing a fierce and darker style. very charming; there’s a magnetic quality about you, surrounded by an aura of mystery that captivates and entices those around you.

[homunculus-argument]

Huh. I figured out a way to solve a language issue that I had in The Book I'm Not Writing, that clears out some tangles that I hadn't really even thought of solving. Language barriers and different writing systems.

The first draft of the book featured two languages: The language spoken by the imperialist 'elite classes', and the common tongue spoken by the common people. It was a plot point that the protagonist - who was shipped to the Empire when he was 10 years old - learns to speak both of them fluently, but speaks Imperial like a finely educated nobleman and common like the lowest ranks of street thugs, and distinctly in the dialect of the slums of one specific city. But having a story with two clearly defined languages with no overlap between them started a lot of problems that distratcted from the plot, so I decided to discard that, and decided to just go with them being different dialects.

And just now it occurred to me that almost all the "lost in translation" sort of plot points that I did need the bilingual setting for were about writing, and that I could just resolve this by having two different writing systems for the (different dialects of) the same language. Like perhaps Imperial script is much like written chinese, featuring elegant, sophisticated, elaborate characters that can depict a number of different things, and the Common script is more like finnish, written phonetically with consistent sound for each letter - inelegant but practical, so one always knows how to spell a word they've only heard in speech, or how to pronounce a word they've only seen in writing.

The protagonist - being a baron - can read and write Imperial fluently, but having learnt the common dialect only from the stray boys he would sneak out to play with as a kid, cannot read Common script at all. So while he can fluently code-switch between speaking, standing and conducting himself like a baron, and moving and talking exactly like a Brethage slum stray, there is literally no way that he could fake being perfectly fluent in Imperial.

So to people who are on the upper end of the "lower caste" he does seem to be exactly as he seems - a stray lunatic who talks mad shit, occasionally claims to be a baron, but demonstrably could not read or write to save his life. But for someone who is familiar with the ways and etiquette of the nobility, seeing the Famously Batshit Foxtrap-Todd just casually code-switch and suddenly know exactly how to wear a rains banquet coat, properly pour tea, and be able to fluently read and recite poetry written in classic formal Imperial, would be as wtf-worthy as hearing a horse suddenly spontaneously start to speak.

[mariclerc]

Farm love | cl16

Summary: where your family farm serves as a set to film a Ferrari challenge.

Warning: fluff, shy reader, Charles being such a curious person, farm girl!reader.

The Tuscan sun beat down on the rolling hills, a vibrant canvas of gold and green stretching as far as the eye could see, the air hummed with the low drone of a helicopter circling overhead, a stark contrast to the usual peaceful quietude of your family farm. Today, however, was anything but usual, because your father, ever the pragmatist, had secured a filming opportunity with the Ferrari team, it was a challenge for their YouTube channel and social media, a decision that had initially filled you with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

You loved the farm, loved the rhythm of rural life, loved the animals. It was your sanctuary, your refuge from the noise and chaos of the outside world. The thought of a horde of camera crews and high-profile racing drivers invading your peaceful haven had made you somewhat anxious, so you decided to stay away from the filming and just watch from afar.

You found a quiet spot near the old stone barn, a vantage point that offered a clear view of the activity without requiring any direct interaction. You were perfectly content observing the chaos from afar, you were comfortable being alone.

The filming was in full swing, a chaotic ballet of camera crews, technicians, and the Ferrari drivers themselves. They moved with an almost otherworldly grace and precision on the track, but here, in the rustic setting of your family farm, their usual poise seemed to falter, they looked much less comfortable, less composed, but it was funny to see their reactions.

You're gently brushing a horse's mane, a bucket of apples nearby while Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz are struggling with some farm task—let's say milking a goat. Your father, a jovial man, is giving them instructions in rapid-fire Italian.

“Mamma mia... they look so lost.” you say quietly to yourself.

Charles, wiping sweat from his brow, accidentally bumps into a nearby hay bale, sending it tumbling.

“Charles! Careful!” Carlos says.

Charles laughs nervously. “Sorry, Carlos! This goat... she's... feisty!”

Your father, in rapid Italian, gestures wildly with his hands, Charles and Carlos look utterly bewildered. “Ma che state facendo?! Così non si fa! Prendete la cosa giusta!” (What are you doing?! That's not how you do it! Grab the right thing!)

You hesitantly approach, clutching a bucket of apples, you're still quite shy. “Scusi...” you say softly in Italian. (Excuse me...)

Charles and Carlos turn, surprised. Charles is particularly captivated by your presence.

“Ah, buongiorno!” he says a little awkwardly in Italian. (Good morning!)

“Buongiorno...” (Good morning...) “My father... he’s just...” you gesture vaguely towards your father. “Perhaps I could help?”

Carlos sighed. “Oh, grazie! To be honest, we're completely lost!”

Your Father grins. “Ah, finalmente!” (Finally!) he explains the task in simple Italian. “This is how you milk a goat properly! See? Gently and steady…”

You demonstrate the process calmly and efficiently. Charles and Carlos watch, mouths slightly agape.

“Wow… that was... so elegant.” Charles says in a whisper.

You blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing special. I’ve been doing this since I was little.”

“We’ve been trying for ages! It's like we have two left hands.” Carlos said and you giggled.

You continue to guide them gently, your touch light and assured. Charles is particularly attentive, watching your every move.

“You're so… graceful.” says Charles quietly and you blush even deeper, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, it’s just... I like animals… it’s just...” you say stammering a little.

Carlos nodded at your words. “It's clear you love them. They seem to love you back!”

After a while, they finally manage to milk the goat successfully, mostly thanks to your guidance.

Your father beams. “Bravi!” (Well done!) he claps Charles and Carlos on the back. “You were hopeless until she showed you the way!” he gestures towards you.

Charles smiles at you. “She's a natural. A true miracle worker.”

Later, after filming wraps up, your father offers them some homemade limoncello.

Charles sighs contently. “This has been...an amazing experience! I didn’t expect to learn so much about goat milking today.” he giggled.

You smiled shyly. “It was my pleasure to help with your challenge video!”

“I'm Charles, by the way. And this is Carlos.” he says while smiling softly.

“I'm y/n. It was nice to meet you both!” Charles extends his hand, you shake it gently, feeling a spark of connection.

After a while, the Ferrari team and Carlos have left, and Charles is lingering, showing genuine interest in your family farm, you're cleaning out a rabbit hutch while Charles is leaning against the fence, watching intently. The sun is beginning to set, casting long shadows across the fields.

You smile slightly. “Everything's cleaned up now.” you whispered softly.

“That's amazing how organized you are! And so gentle with the animals! I've never seen anything quite like it.” Charles said.

You shuggered. “It's just… habit I guess.”

Suddenly Charles approaches you. “Tell me more about the farm. Your family has been here for generations, right? Your father mentioned it earlier.” he said softly.

You nodded. “Yes, for over three hundred years. Each generation has done its part to maintain the farm. My grandfather taught my father, and my father taught me... It's a long history.”

Charles point to a small stone structure. “What is that?”

“Oh, that’s our old well. My great-grandfather used to draw water from it... It’s still working but we use a pump now.”

“That sounds amazing! Could I see it closer?” he says, somewhat intrigued.

You nod and you lead him to the well, explaining its history and the stories associated with it. He listens intently, asking insightful questions, remembering details.

“This farm is more than just a place, it’s in my blood, it's who I am. The land speaks to me, so to say... Every stone, every tree, every animal, it’s a living history.” you say thoughtful.

He nods. “I can feel it, there's a tranquility here, a peace... It's a world away from the noise and pressure of Formula 1.” you giggled.

You both walk towards the sheep pen. Charles watches you interact with the sheep, his gaze is soft and admiring.

“You have such a special gift, y/n. A connection with nature... A lot of people just don’t have that.” he says in a soft whisper.

You blush lightly, looking away. “It’s just…” you murmured quite embarrassed. “It's just normal for me, you know?” you say softly.

He cuts you gently. “No, no, it’s special... Truly, it's something so beautiful to witness.”

He stays for a long time, helping you feed the animals, asking questions about the various breeds, the farming techniques, the challenges of maintaining the land, and the history of your family. He shows a genuine interest, far beyond simple politeness.

Charles smiles as he watches the sunset. “The light is so beautiful here, I've never seen a sunset quite like this.”

You both stand in silence for a few moments, admiring the view.

He turns towards you, a wistful look in his eyes. “I could stay here forever.” he says softly, he gently touches your arm, a hesitant touch that speaks volumes, but you don't pull away.

“Me too.” you say softly.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of the countryside filling his lungs. “Thank you for sharing this with me, y/n. It's… more than I could have ever imagined.”

You smile warmly at him. “Anytime you want, Charles.”

He stays until the last sliver of sun disappears below the horizon, he's completely enchanted by your world, your family's history, and you.

“I should go back to the city. But... I'll see you again, right?”

You smile again. “Of course.”

He leaves the farm, but it feels different. It's not just a goodbye; it's a promise of something more.

***

A couple of months later, you're tending your vegetable garden, your four kittens playfully weaving between your legs. The sun is warm, the air fragrant with the scent of ripe tomatoes and basil. It's been like two months since the visit of the Ferrari drivers to the farm, in particular, since Charles' interest in you and your family.

You chuckled, as a kitten bats at a juicy-looking tomato. “Oh be careful, you little bandit! Those are for dinner!” you giggled at their antics.

You're humming a gentle tune, your movements fluid and practiced as you weed between the rows of lettuce. Suddenly, the familiar hum of a powerful engine breaks the quiet. You look up to see a sleek, dark car approaching the farm, your heart quickens as you recognize the car...

A moment later, Charles emerges, looking relaxed and happy. He's dressed casually—jeans, and a simple white shirt—but his smile is as bright as ever. The little kittens, sensing a new presence, start to cautiously approach, their tails held high.

“Charles! What a surprise! What brings you here?” you say slightly surprised.

He grins. “Hi y/n! I thought I'd surprise you, I had a few days off, and… well, I couldn't resist coming to see you, and the farm... And the little kittens, of course!” he giggles.

He kneels down, gently stroking one of the kittens, the kitten purrs contentedly. Charles spends a considerable amount of time helping you in the garden, his presence as comfortable and natural as if he'd been a regular visitor for years.

“This one's a tough customer, huh?” he says while carefully pulling a weed.

“These weeds are tenacious! We've been battling them for weeks!” you say while sighing.

You and Charles work side-by-side, chatting easily about the garden, the animals, and the challenges of farming. He asks about the different plants, showing a genuine curiosity and understanding of the intricacies of gardening. His questions are detailed and insightful, not just polite inquiries.

“I'm still amazed at the amount of precision and planning this requires. It’s like a strategic race—nurturing the land and your plants to be perfectly timed!” he says amazed.

You share a laugh, recognizing the parallel between his world of precision racing and the meticulous care needed for a thriving garden.

As the afternoon wears on, the sun begins to dip lower in the sky. The light softens, turning the garden into a picture-perfect scene. You gather the harvest, Charles assisting with a natural grace and skill. He’s become comfortable with this simple work, a welcome change from the pressure of his racing career.

“Look at this! A true champion of the garden!” he says while holding up a particularly plump tomato. “What a beauty!” he smiled so widely.

You both laugh, sharing a moment of easy camaraderie and understanding. At one point, while you were tending to the little goats, you can see how he walks towards you and brought you flowers, a simple bouquet of wildflowers gathered from a nearby field, a sweet and thoughtful gesture that speaks volumes, your cheeks blush a bit too much.

Later that afternoon, your father returns from the fields. He sees Charles sitting with you on the porch, chatting amiably and sees the little bouquet of wildflowers on your lap. He stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slightly agape. His usual jovial expression is replaced by a mixture of surprise and, you suspect, slight apprehension.

“Charles? Ma che…? (But what…?) What in the world are you doing here?” your father says in a slightly incredulous tone.

Charles stands up, he smiles brightly. “Oh, buongiorno, Signor! I hope I'm not intruding, I'm just spending some time helping y/n in the garden.”

Your father is visibly taken aback, he wasn't expecting to see the famous Formula 1 driver, a global superstar, on your humble family farm, again. He stares at Charles for a long moment, a mixture of disbelief and suspicion clear on his face.

“I… I mean, it's certainly… unexpected.” he gestures vaguely towards the garden. “You're… helping with the vegetables?”

Charles smiles. “Yes, I am! It's fascinating work, i've learned so much from y/n. I know it's a different kind of challenge, but equally rewarding. It requires a different kind of precision and, well, I’m surprisingly good at weeding.” he giggled softly.

Your father looks from you to Charles, his expression slowly softening. He's observing your easy interaction, noting the genuine connection and mutual respect between you two. He's seeing a side of you daughter he hasn't seen before—a confident, independent woman who's clearly capturing the attention of someone far above her social standing.

“Well... It’s... good to see you.” he says a little less stiff. “Perhaps you could join us for dinner? My wife made her special lasagna.”

Charles readily accepts the invitation, his smile widening. Your father, still somewhat flustered but visibly thawing, gestures towards the farmhouse. As the three of you head towards the house, your father glances back at the garden. He sees you and Charles talking, your laughter echoing softly in the evening air. A look of understanding, perhaps even pride, appears on his face, he accepts that this seemingly unlikely connection may be stronger than he initially thought.

The farmhouse is warm and inviting, filled with the delicious aroma of your mother's lasagna. Charles is seated at the table, chatting animatedly with your father, who’s surprisingly relaxed and friendly. Your mother is bustling about, her face beaming with pride and hospitality.

“…and then, the tractor broke down just as we were harvesting the wheat! It took three hours to fix it!” your father gestures with a flourish and Charles laughed soundly.

“That sounds like a real challenge! A very different kind of race against time!”

Your mother places a steaming dish of lasagna in front of Charles, a generous portion. He compliments her cooking in Italian, his words sincere and heartfelt, your mother beams, clearly pleased.

“Thank you, Charles. I’m so glad you could join us for dinner. We rarely have guests, especially guests as… distinguished as you.”

You and Charles exchange a knowing smile, the atmosphere is warm and convivial. The initial surprise and apprehension have given way to a comfortable, relaxed feeling. The conversations flows easily between you, your parents, and Charles. He displays a genuine interest in your family’s history, asking questions about the farm's evolution, the challenges faced over generations, and the traditions that have been passed down.

“I’ve never been on a farm before, I’ve always been in big cities. But this… this is incredible! The sense of history, the connection to the land… it's truly remarkable.” he says while he drinks a little bit of wine.

Your father, proud and slightly boastful, launches into a detailed account of the farm’s history, tracing its lineage back centuries. He speaks passionately, sharing stories of his ancestors, their struggles and triumphs, the changes they've witnessed in the land and in the world.

“…and my grandfather, he always said the land tells its own stories. You just have to listen carefully.” you father said.

Charles nodded. “I can see that, It's like reading a book, but the chapters are written in the seasons, the growth of the plants, the changing landscape.”

The conversation shifts to the current challenges facing the farm – climate change, fluctuating market prices, the difficulty of attracting younger generations to farming. Charles listens attentively, offering thoughtful insights and questions, demonstrating his intelligence and empathy goes beyond the racetrack.

“It’s remarkable how many parallels there are between farming and Formula 1. Both require meticulous planning, adaptability to changing circumstances, and an understanding of the systems involved. And both, ultimately, depend on teamwork.”

Your mother adds to the conversation, sharing stories of her own childhood on the farm and the challenges of balancing family life with the demands of farm work. Charles listens with genuine interest, showing his respect for her resilience and the traditional values she represents.

The meal extends into a long, leisurely affair, the initial tension between Charles, a global superstar, and your family, rooted in their simple, traditional life, gradually dissipates, Charles effortlessly integrates into the family dynamic, engaging in lighthearted banter with your father and sharing stories from his life that reveal a depth and vulnerability rarely seen in public. He speaks of his close-knit family, his childhood in Monaco, and the demanding but rewarding world of Formula 1, offering candid reflections on his career.

You find yourself observing Charles with renewed appreciation, his genuine interest in your family and their lives goes far beyond simple politeness. You see a different side of him here, away from the pressure and scrutiny of the public eye, a side that is warm, humble, and deeply thoughtful. He listens intently when your mother speaks, his eyes reflecting sincere interest.

As the evening draws to a close, a sense of warmth and connection pervades the room. The meal has transcended its function; it's become a sharing of lives, a bridging of worlds. You and your family are captivated by Charles, not just by his fame, but by his humility, intelligence, and genuine kindness.

***

Several months have passed, and Charles' visits to the farm after race weeks have become a regular part of your life, his presence is as familiar and comforting as the scent of hay and blooming wildflowers. Today, however, your family has gone to the local market, leaving you, Charles, and the menagerie of farm animals – including the four playful kittens and a fluffy family of bunnies – entirely alone.

You and Charles are working in the barn, a symphony of gentle sounds filling the air: the soft bleating of sheep, the contented mooing of cows, the chirping of crickets, and the playful mewing of the kittens as they chase a particularly plump bunny.

Charles is expertly tending to a newborn lamb, his touch gentle and assured. You are cleaning the goat pens, your movements fluid and practiced. The atmosphere is calm, intimate, and filled with a comfortable silence that speaks volumes about the connection that has grown between you.

As you finish your work, you notice Charles watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips, he sets down the lamb, carefully tucking it back with its mother. He walks towards you, his gaze warm and tender.

“You're amazing with these animals, you have a gift.” he says softly.

You smile. “You always say that, but yeah, they’re pretty easy to work with. They respond to kindness and patience, just like people.”

He steps closer, his hand gently brushing yours, the touch sparks a warmth that spreads through you, a silent acknowledgment of the feelings that have blossomed between you. The playful energy of earlier months has given way to a deeper, more intimate connection. The playful sounds of the animals seem to fade into the background, replaced by a palpable tension that hums in the air.

“I love being here with you. With all of this scenery… It feels… so right.” he says with a soft voice, his eyes filled with a tenderness you've come to cherish.

He gently takes your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. His gaze is intense, filled with a longing that mirrors your own. The barn, usually a space of bustling activity, is still and quiet, your connection the only thing that matters.

He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that is slow, tender, and deeply felt... It's a kiss that is as soft and gentle as the caress of a summer breeze, a kiss that speaks volumes about the trust, intimacy, and affection that has grown between you over the months. The animals seem to sense the intimacy of the moment, their movements softening, their sounds mellowing.

The kiss deepens, a culmination of shared moments, quiet conversations, and a growing bond that has blossomed amidst the simple beauty of farm life. It is a kiss that is as natural and unhurried as the rising and setting of the sun.

After the kiss, you and Charles continue to work together, your movements effortless and harmonious. You share quiet moments of laughter and conversation, interspersed with periods of peaceful silence. The animals seem to sense your happiness, their presence adding to the idyllic atmosphere.

As the sun begins to set, casting long shadows across the barn, you and Charles find yourselves sharing a quiet meal—rustic bread, cheese, and fresh fruit—in the hayloft. The setting sun paints the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, a picturesque backdrop to the intimate moment.

The meal ends, and a comfortable silence settles between you. The scent of hay, earth, the gentle breeze and the soft sounds of the sleeping animals lull them into a state of quiet contentment. Exhausted but content, you two fall asleep nestled together amidst the soft hay, your bodies close, your breathing synchronized. Your shared connection is palpable, a quiet harmony that transcends words.

The next morning, your parents enter the barn to complete their early morning chores. They stumble upon you and Charles, fast asleep in the hayloft, your bodies intertwined in a gentle embrace. The scene is idyllic, innocent, and undeniably romantic. Your parents share a knowing smile, a mixture of surprise and quiet happiness in their eyes. They carefully tiptoe out, leaving you undisturbed, understanding the unspoken language of love and happiness.

You stir, feeling the warmth of Charles's arm around you. The scent of hay and earth is comforting, a familiar fragrance that speaks of peaceful mornings on the farm. You open your eyes slowly, your gaze falling upon Charles's sleeping face.

He looks peaceful, his features softened by sleep, the usual intensity in his eyes replaced by a gentle calmness. A faint smile plays on his lips. You gently brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your touch light and tender. The simple gesture speaks volumes about the intimacy that has quietly blossomed between you.

You study his face, your heart swelling with a quiet affection. The shared laughter, quiet conversations, and unspoken understanding of the past months have led to this intimate moment, a testament to the bond that has grown between you. The world outside the barn fades away, leaving only the two of you and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Charles stirs, his eyelids fluttering open. He gazes at you, his eyes slowly focusing, recognition dawning in their depths. A gentle smile spreads across his face, a silent acknowledgment of the tenderness of the moment.

“Morning.” he says with his voice husky with sleep.

You smile softly at him. “Morning.”

A comfortable silence settles between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the awakening farm—the gentle bleating of sheep, the contented mooing of cows, and the chirping of crickets. These familiar sounds create a tranquil backdrop to your intimate moment.

Charles gently pulls you closer, his arm encircling you. You snuggle against him, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. The hayloft, usually a space of hard work and practicality, has become a sanctuary, a private haven where your connection can flourish without pressure or expectation.

You spend several moments in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's presence. The simplicity of the moment is profoundly moving, a testament to the deep bond that has grown between you. You feel utterly content, safe, and loved.

Charles breaks the silence, his voice low and intimate. “You know? I didn't want to wake up.”

You laugh softly. “Me neither.”

He gently strokes your hair, his touch lingering on your cheek. The gesture is simple, yet speaks volumes about the affection and tenderness he feels for you. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, a shared understanding that transcends words.

Charles continues, his voice laced with a vulnerability you've rarely seen in him. “This… this is something special. Being here, with you, away from… everything else.”

You nodded. “I know. It’s… different here. It’s just us, the animals, the farm. No pressure, no expectations… just peace.”

He kisses your forehead gently, his touch lingering. His eyes reflect a deep love and affection that is both reassuring and profoundly moving.

As the sun rises higher, casting a warm glow through the barn, you and Charles begin to move, your movements tentative yet intimate, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you share. You help each other out of the hayloft, your laughter echoing softly in the quiet barn.

As you descend from the hayloft, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of the barn, the sun now fully illuminates the space, showcasing the dust motes dancing in the golden light beams. The familiar scents of hay and earth create a comforting atmosphere that embodies the simplicity and tranquility of farm life. The sounds of the farm, once merely a background hum, are now more distinct—the gentle bleating of lambs, the quiet mooing of cows, and the occasional chirping of birds—all harmonizing in a symphony of nature's gentle rhythm.

You and Charles walk hand-in-hand towards the farmhouse, the morning light illuminating the path. The familiar surroundings create a sense of peace and belonging, the rhythmic sounds of your footsteps on the dirt path and the comfortable silence between you create a tranquil and intimate atmosphere.

As you enter the farmhouse, you are enveloped in a wave of warmth and familiar scents. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baking bread fills the air, creating a welcoming and comforting atmosphere. Your mother is humming softly, busily preparing breakfast in the kitchen. The sight of her warm smile and the inviting atmosphere instantly dispel any lingering awkwardness from the previous night’s events.

“Good morning, you two sleepyheads! I was wondering when you’d finally appear! Breakfast is almost ready.” you mother says kindly.

Your mother’s welcoming smile puts you at ease, her warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace. There’s no judgment, only a quiet understanding in her eyes. This unspoken acceptance reinforces the sense of belonging and peace that permeates the atmosphere of your family home.

You and Charles join your mother in the kitchen, engaging in lighthearted conversation. The breakfast is simple but delicious—freshly baked bread, homemade jam, strong coffee, and a bowl of fresh fruit. The conversation is easy, flowing naturally from farm gossip to Charles's racing career, to your dreams and plans for the future, the atmosphere is relaxed, intimate, and filled with love.

Charles engages with your mother, effortlessly sharing anecdotes from his life while listening intently to her stories of farm life. His genuine interest and respectful demeanor are endearing, further solidifying his place within your family's circle.

As you eat breakfast, the conversation turns to more intimate topics, exploring your hopes and dreams for the future, your shared desire to build a life together. Charles' candidness and vulnerability showcase a depth of feeling that surpasses his usually reserved public persona.

***

A couple of days after that, you and Charles are together, feeding the farm animals, working together, gently handing hay to a group of sheep. You're laughing softly, a comfortable silence between you punctuated by the sounds of bleating sheep and clucking chickens. As the days and months have passed, you have seen how Charles has become accustomed to farm work, which is a huge difference from racing,

He smiles as he chases the chickens that come towards you. “They seem to like you! They’re usually a bit more… skittish.”

You blushed. “Oh, I think it’s just that I’m gentle. You know, my parents always taught me to be kind to animals.”

He watches you as you interact with the animals, a tender look in his eyes. “I love that about you, so kind, sweet and gentle.” he whispered, he paused a bit, then speaks, his voice slightly hesitant. “I was thinking… about something... Something important.”

You look at him, a little surprised. You’ve been having a wonderful time at the farm with him, but this shift in tone has you slightly apprehensive.

“Oh, what is it?” you say slightly nervous.

He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, my family… they’re very important to me. My mum, Pascale, and my brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur... They mean the world to me.” he says softly.

You nod, understanding dawning on you. “Yes, I know. You've told me about them, they sound wonderful.”

He nodded back. ”They are... And... I want you to meet them.” he whispered.

You pause, your heart fluttering. The thought of meeting his family is both exciting and terrifying, a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

“Oh… wow. That’s…” you pause, searching for the right words, slightly overwhelmed. “That's quite a big step, isn’t it?”

He takes your hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It is, I know it is, but I really want you to. I… I really like you, y/n. A lot, more than a lot if I'm honest.”

You blush deeply, looking down at your hands which are now clasped with his. “I like you too, Charles. A lot! But… I’m so shy, I’m worried I’ll make a fool of myself.” you whispered.

He smiles, his expression filled with warmth and affection. “You won’t, my little bird. They’ll love you, I know, I’ve told them all about you, of course... I mean, who wouldn't want to meet the amazing girl who can handle sheep better than I can?” he laughed.

You giggle, feeling your nerves ease slightly under his reassuring words. “That’s sweet of you to say. But still... it's a lot.”

He kisses your hand lightly. “I know, but it’s important to me. They’re a big part of my life, and... I want you to be, too.”

Later that evening, after dinner at the farmhouse, Charles approaches your father in the garden. He looks very nervous, even has shaking hands.

“Buonasera, signor. It’s… it's lovely to see you.” he says softly. (good night sir)

Your father smiles warmly. “Oh Charles, good to see you too. Cosa ti viene offerto, figliolo?” he says. (what can I do for you, son?)

“Thank you, sir. Ehm... Actually… that’s why I’m here, there’s… something I wanted to ask you.” Charles said softly, while fidgets with his hands, his nervousness evident. “It's about y/n and I…” he sighed. “You know that we’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now. And… things are going very well between us, and I… I really care for her. More than words can say.”

Your father listens attentively, a thoughtful expression on his face. He’s a wise man who sees his daughter’s happiness is important.

Your father nods slowly. “Oh yes! I’ve noticed that, she seems so happy and carefree when you're around her.” he says.

Charles smiled and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “And well... I was wondering… if you would…” he scratches the back of his neck. “If you would give me permission to… to take her out on a date? A proper one! You know... To officially ask her out... And maybe get your blessing first?” he finally finished saying.

Silence hangs in the air for a moment, as your father contemplates Charles's proposal.

Your father chuckled softly. “That's a very old-fashioned approach, Charles, but charming all the same. I appreciate that.”

He looks down, slightly embarrassed but relieved he’s managed to say what needed saying.

Your father looks at Charles kindly. “You know, y/n is a special girl. She deserves someone good, and from what I've seen, you're a good kid, Charles. You seem genuine, and she seems happy and bubbly with you. So… yes, you have my blessing. Just don't break her heart, okay?” your father finally says.

Charles visibly relaxes, a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. He beams with relief and happiness.

“Oh grazie, signor! Thank you so much. I won't disappoint you. I promise.” he says smiling. (thank you, sir)

Your father smiles, satisfied with Charles’ sincerity and his daughter's happiness. “I appreciate your respect, Charles. Just be kind to my little girl.”

“I promise you sir.”

Charles walks away with a lightness in his step, he has successfully navigated a significant hurdle, a blend of tradition and modern romance. His feelings for you are genuine and deep, and now he can openly share them with your family and move to the next chapter.

The farmhouse door clicked shut behind him, the sound muffled by the thick stone walls. The scent of sun-baked earth and woodsmoke hung heavy in the air, a familiar comfort... But tonight, the usual quiet of the farmhouse felt different; charged with a quiet anticipation that hummed beneath the surface. He’d done it, he'd asked your father, and the answer had been a resounding yes, laced with a paternal warmth that had eased his nerves and filled his heart.

He found you in your bedroom – your shared bedroom, a space that now felt intrinsically yours and his, a shared sanctuary. You were sprawled on the floor amidst a whirlwind of fur and tiny paws. Your four kittens, a fluffy, wriggling mass of playful energy, tumbled around you, batting at your hands, their miniature claws playfully raking your skin.

You were laughing, a light, melodic sound that resonated through the room, a pure, unfiltered joy that lifted his spirits. Your hair was slightly disheveled, escaping the loose braid you'd worn earlier. Your cheeks were flushed with a healthy pink, and your eyes shone with an infectious happiness that mirrored his own. The sight stole his breath away; it was a scene of pure domestic bliss, a picture of contentment he hadn’t even dared to dream of just months before.

He watched you for a long moment, mesmerized. He’d seen you in countless glamorous settings, especially when you want to look a little more put together, but this... this raw, unfiltered joy, this intimate moment, was far more captivating than any red carpet event. The casual way you were dressed – in one of his oversized t-shirts – added to your charm. You looked incredibly beautiful, even more beautiful than he'd ever imagined.

He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the spell. You looked up, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. A moment of pure, shared intimacy hung in the air before a slow, warm smile spread across your face, erasing any trace of surprise.

“Hey darling.” he said, his voice slightly hoarse with the residue of his earlier anxiety.

You looked up and smiled at him. “Hi.” you replied, your voice soft and a little breathless. One of the kittens, bolder than the others, launched itself onto your lap, settling contentedly amidst the chaos.

“They seem to have adopted you.” he said, a smile playing on his lips as he watched the tiny creature knead its paws into your shirt.

“They're incredibly cuddly.” you responded, your laughter echoing through the room, you gently stroked the kitten, its tiny purr rumbling against your hand.

He joined you on the floor, careful not to disturb the furry tornado. One of the kittens, emboldened by his presence, attempted to climb onto his lap. He chuckled, allowing the tiny creature to settle comfortably, its weight incredibly light yet strangely comforting.

The next hour passed in a blur of shared laughter and playful chaos. You told him stories about each kitten – their unique personalities, their mischievous habits. He listened intently, captivated not just by the anecdotes but by the way your eyes shone with affection as you spoke about them, their names and quirks rolling off your tongue like a familiar lullaby. It was a moment of pure connection, of sharing a simple joy that transcended words.

He found himself picking up a kitten, its tiny body surprisingly warm in his hands. He felt a peculiar sense of calm wash over him; a sensation he hadn't felt before. The kitten purred contentedly against his chest, its soft fur brushing against his skin.

“They’re… surprisingly comforting.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yup, they are.” you agreed, your voice soft and tender. “They’re little bundles of pure joy.” You reached out and gently stroked his cheek, the gesture felt intimate, sealing the moment with a warmth that resonated deeply within him.

The kittens continued their playful antics, their energy seemingly boundless. But amidst the chaos, a quiet intimacy had settled between you two, a profound connection that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. The playful fur, the soft purrs, the shared laughter – they formed a soundtrack to the quiet contentment that filled the room.

He looked at you and cleared his throat. “Oh, peachy... I spoke to your father.” he said timidly.

“Oh, really? About what? If I may know...” you said softly.

He blushed. “Well, um... I asked him for his permission, let's say... To, you know, take you on a date.” he said softly with a big smile. “A proper date, in the city...” he whispered.

You were speechless, you didn't expect him to say that. “Charles, wow... That sounds amazing!” you giggled. “And you asked my father for permission, quite a gentleman.” you smiled.

He smiled and chuckled. “Hey, I had to ask for his blessing, he's going to annihilate me if anything happens to his little princess.” he said and you blushed so hard. “So... What do you think?”

“Well... I think it's a great idea!” you said and you give him a little peck on the lips.

“So, it's sealed! We'll have a date!” he gives you a little peck on your lips and you giggled.

The success of his conversation with your father was undoubtedly a victory, but this... this intimate moment of shared joy, the simple pleasure of playing with kittens on the floor, was the perfect epilogue. It was the beginning of your own shared sanctuary, a haven of love and laughter on the edge of the farm and the enjoyment of country life. He knew this was just the beginning of a beautiful life together, a journey filled with unexpected joys and profound connections, a life that already felt perfectly, wonderfully complete.

[bloddysnow]

Summary: You are an emperor, and you have your own harem consisting of four consorts.

Pairings: Sub! Bottom! Zayne/Sylus/Rafayel/Xavier x Dom! Top! Gn! Reader

nsfw minors dni

They have different features and characters, each of which is a unique combination of beauty, strength and charm.

The first consort, Zayne was a skillful healer, known for his wisdom and insight. He was not only handsome, but also smart. His knowledge of herbs and medicines helped to keep you in good health, helping to stay full of strength and energy. He often gave you valuable advice in governing the state. He had a refined taste and exquisite grace. His outfits have always been made with elegance.

The second consort, Rafayel, has a passionate temperament and burning beauty. Something about him always makes him the center of attention in any room. He chooses the most precious fabrics and jewelry to emphasize his beauty. Rafayel spends his days perfecting the art of dance, demonstrating flexibility and ability to control his body. He was not only a talented dancer, but also a skillful musician. In the evenings, he plays the lyre, hoping to attract you with melodic sounds and his angelic voice. His talent was known far beyond the palace.

The third consort, Sylus is famous for his wisdom and deep knowledge of poetry and philosophy. Passion and temptation permeates his every movement and every word. His eyes burn with the fire of thirst, giving mystery. He is also a master of martial arts. His grace and dexterity delighted everyone who saw his training. He often quotes poems and philosophical thoughts, hoping to win your heart through mind and soul.

The fourth consort, Xavier is known for his innocence and sincerity. He wears light and bright outfits that emphasize his young beauty. Its beauty is emphasized by simplicity and naturalness. He likes to walk in the garden and pick flowers. He wants to attract you with his purity and innocence. His room is filled with the scents of fresh flowers and the soft light of candles since he every evening hopes that you’ll want to visit him.

They dress up in frank clothes that barely cover their bodies to better demonstrate the traces of your caresses - dark spots and red marks from love bites that cover their delicate skin with a marble pattern. Every sign you leave is considered a pride, and they do not hide them under their makeup, but show them out.

At public meetings, banquets, parties and most social events, your consorts properly stand right behind your back and will always accompany you. Their presence behind your back symbolized the unity and strength of the imperial family. They’ll hide their faces under face veil, leaving only their eyes open. Since childhood, they have been taught that their bodies belong only to the emperor, and this knowledge is deeply rooted in their minds. Because of this, they cannot get physical pleasure on their own, knowing that their purpose is to serve only you.

As an emperor, you are aware of the importance of fair and respectful treatment of your consorts. And you try to pay equal attention to them all, making sure that each of them feels loved and valuable.

Evenings in the garden with Xavier have become an oasis of calm and happiness for you. The garden has an atmosphere of peace and harmony created by the rustle of foliage, the singing of birds and the quiet murmur of the fountain. Xavier brings the book he chose in advance and sits on the soft grass under the shade of an old oak leaning against it. You settle down next to him, putting your head on his lap. His hands begin to gently stroke your hair. He opens the book and starts reading aloud. His voice, soft and expressive, fills the space around you. Closing your eyes, you enjoy every minute spent with him.

Sylus often asks you to practice with him. One of your rules was the following: if he wins, you will fulfill any of his wishes. He attacks quickly and deftly, trying to find vulnerabilities. You, in turn, fight back, always trying to keep a balance between defense and attack. However, despite his aspiration and skills, he has never managed to defeat you. You are always one step ahead. You know that the real goal of these trainings is not victory, but time spent together. And this ends with Sylus breathing heavily with his hands around your neck, feeling the warmth of your body. Your hands wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. His lips are warm, persistent, conveying all the passion that he may have been holding back for a long time.

Rafayel, dressed in light silk clothes, slowly goes to the center of the hall, illuminated by the soft light of candles. The sounds of darbuka and qanun begin to fill the space. Smooth waves run through his body, starting from his hips and rising up his spine. He skillfully uses his shoulders. His hands gently twist, repeating the curves of the melody, and his fingers touch the invisible strings, adding a touch of magic to the dance. His hips make graceful movements, synchronously swaying in the rhythm of melody. His body is the true perfection of beauty. Each muscle contraction, each movement emphasizes the ideal lines of his figure. The light of candles plays on his skin, creating a game of shadows and emphasizing every muscle. When he looks at you, it seems that time stops. His eyes are full of depth and passion, you can drown in them, forgetting about everything in the world. It's like they bewitched you, and you can't take your eyes off him. They reflect the whole world, full of mysteries and secrets that he is ready to share only with you.

In the majestic imperial palace, immersed in luxury and splendor, your life was surrounded by Zayne's care and attention. Not trusting the servants, Zayne personally followed every aspect of your daily life. It was his personal privilege and duty that he was proud of. Taking care of the emperor gave him some pleasure. He chooses your outfit for the day, also takes care of your hairstyle, skillfully styling your hair and giving it a neat look. He makes sure that consorts didn't bother you and asks you every night if you wanted to visit someone's quarters. Zayne takes care of his emperor with awe and love, trying to protect you from all possible troubles and worries. As a sign of gratitude for his tireless care and devotion, you often took his hands in your own and gratefully kiss them. Zayne was always embarrassed at these moments, looking away.

Their hearts are pounding in anticipation of your next choice, and each of them is eager to be in emperor’s quarters again. When they find themselves in your bed, their moans and screams become loud and passionate, breaking the silence of the night. It's not only an expression of their pleasure, but also a way to show others your closeness to them. They cry, clutching your cock buried deep inside them, and whisper through tears: "I'm y-your favorite, right?" Their voices tremble with emotions, and their hearts beat in the hope of confirming their uniqueness and love.

Their bellies become swollen from the amount of sperm inside their wombs. When you gently press on their stomach, white sperm flows out of their hole, and they whine, asking you not to waste it. Each of them dreams of giving birth to the first heir, who will strengthen his position in the harem and give him power and respect.

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧.

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; vil's signature spell is hot, and you end up telling him that

— notes; this is. very self indulgent. I CANNOT HELP IT IF I FIND HIS SIGNATURE SPELL HOT, DO NOT JUDGE ME. also please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ The first time Vil tells you about his signature spell, it’s in an almost offhand manner, like he’s listing his numerous accomplishments or talking about the weather. He’s used to people responding with awe — or fear — because of how powerful and dangerous the spell is, and surely your reaction will be something similar.

❋ “That’s hot.”

❋ Did you just say that out loud?

❋ Yup.

❋ You should technically know better, it’s just . . . The idea of him wielding that much control and imposing his will with just a touch is . . . Well, insanely attractive.

❋ There goes your first brain cell.

❋ Vil blinks, momentarily caught off guard by your reaction. He’s used to seeing admiration, yes, but he certainly didn’t expect this. The way you bite your lip, how your eyes sparkle with fascination, seemingly unfazed. A hint of pink dusts his cheeks as he processes your reaction — after all, it isn’t every day that someone looks at him with such pure, unabashed admiration. And because of the dark side of his magic, no less.

❋ “Would you like a demonstration, darling?” He asks in that velvety tone of his, leaning closer, his eyes locking onto yours. His fingers reach out to brush against your cheek, and he murmurs, “Just one touch and I would have you begging for mercy.”

❋ And there goes your last braincell.

❋ The look on your face at this very moment must be a good one; Vil’s shifting closer, and his hands are lingering on your face — not cursing you, just cupping the curve of your cheek, and drinking in your ardent attention.

❋ He’s looking at you as though he wants to kiss you, and well, you aren’t about to stop him anytime soon if he does.

❋ Normally, Vil isn’t one for indulging in impulsive decisions, but it’s the way you’re looking up at him — much too unguarded, much too trusting, almost as though you want to be stained with his darkness — breaks through the veneer of his carefully crafted restraint.

❋ Your breath catches in your throat, and all your focus is solely on Vil: the intense heat in his gaze, the warmth of his hands, and the intoxicating sense of danger that somehow makes him even more irresistible.

❋ His lips mould against yours with the kind of effortless elegance only Vil can manage. There’s a subtle possessiveness in the kiss, like he wants to mark you. Not with a curse, but something darker, sweeter, a taste that lingers on your lips like a delicate poison.

[colebabey888]

The Power of Elegance, Grace and Poise | IT GIRL DIARIES

Elegance is a subtle strength that goes beyond physical beauty or material possessions. It's about how you carry yourself, your actions, and the way you engage with the world around you. Cultivating grace and poise in your daily life can elevate your presence and make you stand out effortlessly. Having elegance as a characteristic can enhance your femininity immensely, attracting the right people and opportunities.

The Art of Mindful Movement

Elegance begins with how you move through the world. Every gesture, whether it's walking into a room or offering a handshake, can exude grace when done with intention. Moving deliberately and confidently, without rushing, demonstrates a quiet control over your environment. Graceful movements are gentle and fluid, reflecting a calm mind and self-assurance. Drop something? Don't pull an Elle Woods and stunt a bend and snap, this causes to much exposure and attracts attention in the wrong manner. This will change the way others approach you and who approaches you.

Speaking with Intention

The way you speak is another powerful reflection of elegance. Speaking clearly, slowly, and with thoughtfulness shows a refined presence. Listening attentively before responding, and choosing your words carefully, allows you to convey wisdom and consideration. A poised individual speaks with purpose, never raising their voice or dominating the conversation, but instead engaging others with respect. A foul mouth is common in today's society, even I, myself sometimes fall victim to this. Having a foul mouth can indicate a lack of vocabulary or intellect so try and steer away from using this language, find other words to describe the way you feel in a situation, always remain cool calm and collected.

Cultivating Kindness and Patience

True elegance lies in how you treat others. Kindness, patience, and respect are hallmarks of a graceful person. Offering a smile, listening without interruption, and being present in your interactions can leave a lasting impact. Elegance isn’t just about what you do, but how you make others feel—valued, understood, and appreciated.

The Power of Simplicity

Elegance thrives in simplicity. Whether it’s in your personal style, your home, or the way you approach challenges, less is often more. A graceful person is not distracted by excess but instead focuses on the essentials, projecting refinement through simplicity and order. It’s the small, thoughtful actions that create an atmosphere of calm and sophistication. Choose minimalistic over maximalist.

Composure in Challenging Situations

A key element of elegance is maintaining composure, even in difficult situations. Never lose your cool! Staying calm under pressure, responding rather than reacting, and maintaining an air of confidence helps you rise above challenges with grace. Composure reflects inner strength and elegance, showing that you are in control of yourself regardless of external circumstances. This doesn't mean you can't give it to dumb people on occasion, if someone needs to be put in their place, do it with grace.

_____

You can cultivate an aura of elegance that will enhance every aspect of your life. Elegance attracts the right people and sets boundaries before you voice them. How you look and present yourself to the world is very important. First impressions always matter!

"Talk with Grace and Walk with Poise"

xoxo, colebabey8.88

[missydior]

vogue (part 2).

notes: charles lecler x model!reader, smau, a few swear words.

a/n: here is part two! honestly i wasn’t really sure how to continue the ‘story’ but thank you @sid-is-gr8 & the rest of you for giving me some ideas. i hope this does part 1 justice.

౨ৎ

liked by franciscagomes, lilamoss and 399,135 others

yourusername: hello, london.

view all comments.

lilamoss: please let me borrow from your wardrobe more often

⤷ yourusername: always.

franciscagomes: love, love, love

liked by yourusername

user: y’all hear me out – she’s in london and it’s the british grand prix this weekend.

⤷ user: wait…

⤷ user: more y/n x f1?

⤷ user: more like y/n x charles leclerc

user: omg you’re telling me y/n herself is in my area?

miumiu: 🤎

౨ৎ

3,156 likes

y/n.updates: recent photos from y/n’s friend’s story…

view all comments.

user: we’re getting more y/n photoshoots yesss

user: the picture on the last one omg

user: is that ferraristyle?

౨ৎ

⤷ user: is this real?

⤷ user: y/n started following the ferraristyle ig recently i think

౨ৎ

liked by charlesleclerc, lilamoss and 511,399 others

yourusername: incoming.

view all comments.

user: forza ferrariiii

user: this is definitely y/n confirming her shoot with ferraristyle

⤷ user: literally can’t wait

ferraristyle: 🖤

⤷ user: omg omg

౨ৎ

liked by yourusername and 398,555 others

ferraristyle: genuine elegance. y/n & charles leclerc demonstrate the sophistication in the heart of ferrari in a mew collaboration, see behind the scenes… [more]

view all comments.

user: holy shit

user: ferraristyle is a dating program now or what? tf

⤷ user: calm down, it’s just a collab. modelling together doesn’t mean there’s something going on

⤷ user: girl, everyone knows there’s something happening between them two

friendusername: icons

yourusername: 🖤

౨ৎ

yourusername shared on stories:

story liked by charlesleclerc

⤷ user: omg

⤷ user: shut up charles was wearing that today

⤷ user: stop messing with us y/nnn

౨ৎ

liked by charlesleclerc, lilamoss and 659,111 others

yourusername: cherry red kitten heels like his ferrari.

view all comments.

user: OH MY GOD

user: i’m in shock.

⤷ user: and yet we all expected it.

user: y/n really said hard launch

charlesleclerc: 🖤

liked by yourusername

franciscagomes: finally

⤷ user: girly knew all along

a/n: hope you all loved my really rushed but dramatic ending xoxo

[kdyq]

Let me teach you baby

Context: Ambessa teaches you how to fight.

Ambessa x Fem!reader

The training courtyard was alive with the hum of insects and the faint rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. Ambessa stood in the center her arms crossed and her gaze locked on you. Unlike the sword fighting lessons you’d expected today was about raw combat the kind Ambessa herself had perfected over a lifetime.

“Hand to hand combat is personal” Ambessa said her deep voice steady. “It’s about power precision and control. Forget elegance. Forget weapons. Your body is your weapon.”

You took a deep breath flexing your fingers. “So… we’re just going to hit each other?”

Ambessa’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Not each other. You’ll hit me and I’ll show you what you’re doing wrong.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like an unfair fight.”

“It is,” she said simply. “But you’ll learn.”

The first thing Ambessa had you do was practice your stance.

“You’re too stiff.” she observed, circling you like a predator stalking prey. Her golden eyes flicked to your feet. “Spread your stance. Center your weight. If you can’t balance you can’t fight.”

You adjusted planting your feet as she instructed. “Like this?”

“Better” she said stepping closer. Without warning she shoved your shoulder hard making you stumble. “But not good enough.”

“Hey!” you protested regaining your footing.

She shrugged. “A real opponent won’t wait for you to get comfortable. Again.”

You sighed but tried again this time bracing yourself. When Ambessa pushed you again you held your ground.

“There” she said a hint of approval in her tone. “Now you’re ready to throw a punch.”

“Keep your fists up” Ambessa instructed demonstrating the proper form. Her movements were fluid and so smooth. Her fists raised just high enough to guard her face while leaving room to strike. “Like this. Protect your head and stay loose. You’re not a statue you’re a predator.”

You mimicked her stance your fists feeling awkward and heavy. “I don’t feel like a predator” you admitted.

Ambessa smirked. “Not yet. But you will.”

She motioned for you to throw a punch. You hesitated then swung your fist toward her. Ambessa caught your wrist midswing her grip firm but not painful.

“Too slow” she said. “You’re telegraphing your moves. Watch my eyes. Anticipate my next move before you make yours.”

“That’s easy for you to say” you muttered pulling your hand back. “You’ve been doing this forever.”

Ambessa chuckled. “True. But I didn’t start out perfect. I had to learn just like you.”

Her words gave you a spark of determination. You shifted your weight focused on her stance and tried again. This time your punch was faster and though Ambessa blocked it her expression shifted ever so slightly.

“Better” she said nodding. “But you can still hit harder.”

The session continued with Ambessa teaching you how to dodge block and counter. Each time she corrected you her tone was firm but never harsh. She pushed you to your limits but there was a quiet encouragement in her gaze that kept you going.

By the time the sun began to set, you were drenched in sweat your muscles aching. Ambessa handed you a towel her expression softened by a rare smile.

“You did well today” she said her deep voice warm. “You’ve got more strength than you realize.”

You wiped your face managing a tired grin. “You’re just saying that because I didn’t pass out.”

Ambessa laughed in a low rich sound that made your exhaustion feel worth it. “No I’m saying it because it’s true. But don’t get cocky. You’ve still got a lot to learn.”

“Does that mean we’re doing this again tomorrow?” you asked half dreading the answer.

She stepped closer, her hand brushing against yours as she took the towel back. “Every day until you can hold your own”she said her tone serious. “I don’t train people halfway.”

You looked up at her feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and gratitude. “Thanks, Ambessa. For taking the time to do this.”

Her gaze softened and she placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’s not just about training. It’s about making sure you’re ready for anything. And I’ll always make time for you.”

As the two of you left the training grounds together, the ache in your body was tempered by the growing bond between you and Ambessa. She wasn’t just teaching you how to fight she was teaching you how to find strength in yourself.

And for that you couldn’t thank her enough.

“THE END”

AN/ That mini series is taking me a while but here’s something I always wanted to write about.

[misswynters]

Innocent

short drabble

featuring. ambessa x princess!reader

requested by anon

a/n. a short drabble in honor of the new league cinematic video. (not proofread)

Whispers followed you wherever you went, delicate and sweet like the trailing ribbons of your pastel gown. A princess from a distant land, they called you, with eyes like morning dew and a smile so radiant it could disarm even the most hardened souls. You walked beside Ambessa Medarda as you entered Piltover’s council chamber, her imposing presence drawing wary glances and tightened jaws. But you, oh, you were such the opposite compared to her with your delicate hands grazing the edge of the table as you curtsied. The softness of your voice weaving through the room like silk.

They couldn’t understand it. What was someone like you, someone that was the vision of elegance, doing at the side of a woman like Ambessa? A warlord who ruthless and cunning, with a reputation for crushing anything that stood in her way. You looked out of place at her side, like a butterfly perched on the shoulder of a lion. But appearances, as Ambessa had taught you, were the first weapon in your arsenal.

“Your Highness,” one of the councilmen greeted, his tone dripping with condescension as he rose from his chair. “It is truly an honor to have such a distinguished guest among us.” His gaze lingered a moment too long on your soft hair and the glimmering jewels that adorned your wrists. You smiled, tilting your head ever so slightly.

“Thank you, my lord,” you said, your voice so sweet it bordered on saccharine. “I must confess, I find Piltover to be… overwhelming. Such brilliance and innovation, but so complex. I hardly know where to begin.” You laughed softly, the sound drawing smiles from more than one member of the room. Ambessa remained silent beside you, her sharp gaze watching, as you worked your magic on the men.

“You need not worry, Princess,” another councilman intersected, his voice laced with eagerness and a touch of pride. “We are more than happy to guide you through anything you wish to understand. Perhaps… I could offer you a private tour of the academy?” His tone was almost gallant, but the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

Your cheeks flushed, as you clasped your hands together. “That is so kind of you, my lord,” you said, casting your gaze downward shyly before glancing back up through your lashes. “I wouldn’t want to impose, but I’ve always been so fascinated by Piltover’s Hextech. Perhaps I could ask you a few questions later? I wouldn’t want to take up too much of your time.”

Ambessa fought the smirk tugging at her lips, her arms crossed as she leaned back against the far wall. You were perfect. Every tilt of your head, every soft-spoken word was calculated to pull strings you weren’t even sure the men knew they had.

The council meeting proceeded, but you hardly paid attention to the broader discussions. Instead, you focused on planting seeds into the minds of the men. Compliments so subtle they felt like afterthoughts, questions that seemed harmless but dug at the roots of Piltover’s inner circle. By the time the meeting was over, you had gathered more than enough information to satisfy Ambessa’s expectations.

As the members filtered out, one lingered, his gaze fixed on you. “Princess,” he began, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “I couldn’t help but notice your… curiosity earlier. If you truly wish to learn more about Hextech, I could arrange a demonstration for you. Something private, of course, so you could see its full potential.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, even as the words you spoke were sharp enough to cut. “You are too kind, my lord,” you murmured, stepping closer until you were just within his space. “I would love that. Perhaps tomorrow evening?”

The man nodded eagerly, his face alight with excitement as he stumbled over his words. Ambessa cleared her throat, her presence suddenly oppressive as she stepped forward. “Her Highness will have a full schedule,” she said, her voice like the edge of a blade. “But I’m sure she’ll find time for your… demonstration.”

As the man hurried off, you turned to Ambessa, your expression dropping the moment he was out of sight. “Amateur,” you muttered under your breath, your sweet demeanor melting into something sharper. Ambessa chuckled, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“You’ve done well,” she said, her voice low and approving. “They’re all wrapped around your little finger.”

You looked up at her, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Of course they are,” you replied, your tone light but edged with pride.

Later, as you sat on the edge of the bed in Ambessa’s quarters, she watched you from her seat by the fire. You were still the picture of sweetness in your pink nightgown, your hair falling in over your shoulders, but she knew better. Beneath that façade was a mind as sharp as any blade she wielded.

“You were perfect today,” she said finally, her voice breaking the silence. You turned to her, your smile genuine this time as you padded over to her chair.

“Only because you taught me,” you said softly, kneeling at her feet. Ambessa reached out, her rough hand brushing against your cheek, her touch surprisingly tender.

“Couldn’t be prouder,” she murmured, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. You leaned into her touch, your eyes closing as a contented smile spread across your lips.

Innocence was your mask, manipulation your weapon, and loyalty to Ambessa the thread that bound it all together. You were exactly what she had shaped you to be. It was easy to manipulate others when they weren’t expecting it from a person with such a sweet demeanor. Clearly you proved them wrong, well eventually.

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