#he goes from a servant to a duke

[cosmic-walkers]

need to pick up my thomas survive fics and write a fic where henry hates thomas and stephen so much he makes thomas stephen's servant after the whole ordeal to both punish thomas, and shame stephen so everyone can see just what Stephen did. it also puts a huge amount of pressure on stephen to care for thomas, because of how thomas is. and again, the scrutiny from the public. henry just hates them both. anyway, fast forward thomas gets better and ofc stephen doesn't make him a servant but thomas just likes fixing shit around the house anyway.

idk if i'll ever write it but henry's hope was for thomas to die, and the PR disaster coming on stephen so he can of course, put all the blame on stephen. so he is shocked when thomas is alive, and fixing Stephen's chandeliers.

[scara-writes]

paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

[jupiterisnastar]

You just look like my prettiest girl

Between my crush on golden retrievers and nerdy guys. There's something about Jason Todd that just SCREAMS Rottweiler boyfriend!

Jason would always cuddle by hugging you from behind on bed, his hands resting on your tummy and his face buried on your neck, little kisses on your skin and sometimes little bites because Jason can't help himself.

He would always put the shared playlist you two have in a low volume, just to help himself relax after a rough patrol where the Bats put their noses in his business. Sometimes Jason wishes he could put a bullet in their heads just to make this nonsense stop. But you would get at mad at him so he just content himself with ignoring their pestering.

Being with you helps Jason ignore the loud voice of the pit screaming for him to kill everyone and everything that annoys him. It's almost like the pit likes to be cuddled by you and your soft body, who just look like the prettiest thing in the whole world.

When he feels too overwhelmed, Jason lays his head in your soft tummy and just close his eyes, relaxing even more when your fingers began untangling his hair, Jason always feel like melting when you do this.

And when you wear his big t-shirts? Oh boy, he goes to heaven and comes back in one simple go. And blame him from making out with you every time he sees you like this, it's not his fault that you look so cute and pretty like this.

Now, Jason can't help but gatekeep you from his family. If Dick sees you he would want you from himself! And Jason can't have this, can he? And Tim would go all gushy if he talks with you because you're so damn intelligent, and the Demon spawn is a brat, he would spill all the blackmail he has on Jason. Duke is chill tho, so Jason would talk about you from time to time to him, but not much to make Duke interested in meeting you.

Jason is so protective and possessive, always having a hand on you, always looking out to be sure that there isn't any danger, always making sure you're comfortable, and that you are safe.

If girls flirt with him? It's over to them. He will simply glare at them with the most disgusted expression, as if they are the ugliest thing he ever saw (and they are, at least in Jason's opinion).

Your happiness is his priority, you aren't feeling pretty? Well, seems like Jason needs to reassure that you indeee are pretty, even if that means having you in front of a mirror while he listed everything he finds hot in you.

You think that you are too fat? No problem! Jason will make sure you are comfortable in your own skin, if you want to go to the gym he is going with you, a diet? He's already talking with a nutritionist to know what's the best and safest diet you should do!

You think that you need new clothes? Don't say another word, he's using all his money to buy you the best, prettiest and comfortable clothes for you. Jason is your loyal servant and you are the Goddess of his life.

Jason would kill, torture, and die again if that means making you happy. You're the sole reason of why he's still barely sane and didn't go berserk. You are his happiness, and he hopes to be yours too.

Just trust him, okay? He will make sure you are safe and happy. Pinky promise

[cherie-doll]

Royalty AU with Reader being royalty and COD men being your knight

Price trusts that you're cautious but can't help but worry about you when you're not in his sight. In a room full of people he always locates you; you're his priority. And when something goes wrong he gently tugs on your hand and holds you close so you can feel a little comforted as he walks you to your room. And before you close the door he prevents it from closing with his hand to reassure you in a soft whisper that if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call for him because he'll always answer to your voice.

And what can Simon say when you reprimand him for being too strict with you? Well, he can't help it that he gets the smallest fire igniting within him when that duke got too close, he doesn't know any better. All people are dangerous, and he'd never be able to go on living if something happened to you. It's his duty to serve and protect you.

Johnny never fails to make you laugh with his charming smile and wit. Someone like him ought to be more than a knight and you constantly tell him this. All he does is shoot you a grin, indicating that if he wanted to he could be something more to you. Moments with him consist of flashes of knowing gazes and fleeting touches towards you. Always making it seem as if there was a possibility.

Kyle's hands that tremble slightly when he has to touch you. His fingers always come close but never touch your skin, only hovering above as if afraid to touch you. A look of admiration and awe in his eyes as he watches you descend the staircase and extend a hand to him. He tenderly takes your hand in his and with trembling lips places a kiss, all done with reverence for he worships the very ground you walk on and vows to protect you until the day he dies.

Phillip's piercing gaze that holds you in place before his eyes soften has you entranced. The man has a way of slithering into your mind in the most unusual and least expected ways. Why must your mind keep recurring to early that morning when none of the servants were around and he had to help fasten a necklace. His calloused hands moving your hair aside, baring your neck to him as his fingers fluttered, hovering over your nape. Was the deliberate manner in which he fiddled with the clasp intentionally?

König who's silent and observing and it makes you uneasy. But that's only because he secretly holds a hint of affection for you. Even if he shouldn't. He prefers to stand at the back of the room, in the corner furthest away from you to have you in his view. You're flawless in his eyes. How would he ever come up to par with you?

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Season Two}

Season one

Chapter Seventeen - End of the season

♡♡♡

The duke and duchess were holding the last ball of the season. It was going to be a grand event to be certain. The whole ton would be there.

You were wearing your last gown made for the season. It was beautiful. A shade of green. It had little jewels sewn into it, so it would sparkle while you danced.

You looked forward to seeing Thomas.

Though you had not secured an engagement within the time of the season, you hoped that you may continue to correspond with Thomas while he was in the country, and perhaps go see him at his family estate, that he may ask.

Your mother would be so proud.

Your maid did your hair and helped the jewellery. It was going to be a spectacular season finale. You could feel it in your bones.

Hastings House was beautiful.

You walked with your mother around the fountain to the main entrance. The ball was to be held in a small courtyard in the middle of the house. Daphne had done a splendid job.

There was a painting of the duke and duchess on display. Painted bt Henry Granville. It was beautifully done.

You stand off to the side while your mother chats with guests. You watch people waltz.

Violet arrives with Eloise. Daphne goes to talk to her sister.

You keep your eyes peeled for any sign of Thomas.

The next to come through the door are the Featheringtons. You cannot deny your relief at seeing Penelope again. Granted, she is wearing yellow, but she is here.

One dance ends, and the next dance begins.

You take a stroll about the ball. Thomas has yet to arrive, it seems. You smile at Penelope as you pass her. She smiles back, too, seemingly surprised you had paid her any attention. People usually don't.

You see Colin parting ways with Benedict across the room. Your eyes follow the second eldest Bridgerton as he walks.

He hasn't noticed you.

Maybe that's for the best...

No.

No. He is your friend and you want to talk to him. You are about to make your way across the room when a servant comes up to you with a note on his tray. You look at him confused.

"For you, ma'am."

You look at the note and pick it up. The servant leaves, and you unfold the paper. The handwriting belongs to Thomas.

I must apologise. I am to leave for York immediately. I shall not be at the Hastings ball. Do have fun on my behalf.

- T. Hardy

You stare at the note in silence. He's not coming at all. He must have left earlier in the day. Perhaps in a rush. You had been at the Bridgertons that afternoon, so if he called the house, you wouldn't have seen him.

If he had called to the house, the butler would have told you, or even your mother. He did not call... So he must have been in a rush.

You sigh. You fold the note back up and leave it on a tray of a passing waiter. They can dispose of it for you.

Glancing up, you find two blue eyes gazing at you. Benedict has seen you. Now you're definitely going to go talk to him. You make your way across the courtyard and come to stand beside Benedict.

"Hello."

"Hello," he replies softly.

Silence fills the space between you, and you turn to the dancers to occupy yourself, and to keep from looking at him again.

"Is Lord Hardy not with you?" Benedict couldn't help asking. He was surprised to see you standing alone tonight.

"No. He left London already. Back to York."

Benedict is even further surprised by the information. He thought Hardy would stay until the very end. He believed the man to be falling for you.

"I see."

You look down and try to keep yourself in check. "I thought maybe I had finally found someone. Someone who perhaps desried me, but it seems I was wrong."

Benedict keeps quiet.

"I wasn't enough for anyone this season. I tried, and I failed. Doesn't matter, I suppose. Next year might be different."

"You didn't fail."

You look up at Benedict. "I didn't secure a proposal or even managed to keep a man interested enough to at least say goodbye before he left."

"You might see him again," he says.

"Somehow, I feel not."

Benedict feels for you. You have been nothing but glorious and wonderful and yourself all year round. You wiggled yourself into the lives of his family and became a pleasant consistent in their lives. You encouraged his passions and made him feel a little more like himself.

"You didn't fail," he says again.

You look up at him and crack a smile. "Next year then."

He nods.

The music changes and the floor is cleared. You notice the duke and duchess approach each other. You knew something had happened between them, but didn't know what. Yet, here they were about to dance for the ton.

You smile at Daphne as dances with her husband. They look like such a handsome couple. You envy them. You envy what they have.

The way they look at each other. How close he holds her to him.

Love.

It is so rare. It's so rare that very few people ever get to feel it for real. You want it. You want to know what it feels like to have, well, a soulmate. The one person made just for you. To love and to hold. To cherish. To share every moment with.

Benedict shifts hisngaze from his sister to look at you. He can see the way you watch Daphne and Simon dance.

Benedict's had fun. He played around. Tested the waters. But looking at you right here and right now makes him rethink everything.

Genevieve has certainly been fun. Yet, if you were going to try again for your own sake next year, perhaps he should, too. You, who inspired his art. Inspired him to try harder and practise more.

Perhaps next season, you will both benefit and grow more as people.

As the waltz continues, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance brings you to look up at the sky. The heavens open and rain pours. You gasp softly as the cool droplets hit your skin.

Benedict instinctively reaches out for you and guides you under the canopy toward the house. You look up at him and then turn back to the ball. Everyone else does the same, seeking shelter from the rain.

Everyone but Daphne.

Simon is holding her hand as if he was guiding her to shelter, but Daphne stops him from doing so. She closes her eyes and lifts her face to the sky, letting the rain fall.

She looks beautiful.

Lady Danbury stops anyone else from going out into the rain. "Everyone... I believe this evening is complete. We shall thank our gracious hosts for such a splendid soiree in the morning. Now, go. Out."

Everyone begins to leave.

Benedict slips his hand into yours and guides you out. You look up at him quietly.

Daphne and Simon have some talking to do.

Benedict guides you through the house and outside to the carriage. It's still raining. His hair sticks to his head and you giggle.

"What?"

"Nothing..." You smile.

He gives you a boyish grin. He helps you into the carriage and stands around in the doorway.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks.

"You leave for the country tomorrow."

"Are you not also?"

"Me and Mama are to stay in London. We don't have a country house to go to in the summer."

Benedict didn't know that. "Did your father not own an estate?"

"We had to sell it when he died. He left us with a great deal of dept."

He realises in that moment how much he doesn't know about you. You're so much more complicated than he originally thought.

Your mother clears her throat and Benedict moves to let her into the carriage.

"See you soon, I hope?" He looks at you.

"I'll write."

He nods and watches the footman close the door. He steps back as the carriage leaves, and Benedict finds himself a little lonely.

♡♡♡

When you rise the next morning, you have no idea of anything that happened within the Featherington house. Lord Featherington died. He was killed.

Penelope spent much of the morning in tears. Elosie had gone to visit her.

Marina went with Sir Philip Crane. The brother of her deceased love who never made it back home. She was to marry him. At least she could have her child and be looked after.

You had decided to go to the Bridgerton house before they all left. It was the least you could do for Benedict and his family. They had all seemed pleased to see you when you arrived, and that made you feel warm inside.

Colin was leaving for Greece. Another reason for Penelope to be upset. Colin was going to be so far away travelling the world.

You waved him off as he rode away on his horse. Benedict had his arm locked with yours.

As the rest of the family headed inside, you struck up conversation with Daphne, Simon, and Anthony. While the duke and duchess are staying in London a little longer, it would seem Anthony intends to find a Viscountess.

That leaves all of you stunned.

Though he follows it up by saying he will keep love out of it to keep things simple. Daphne frowns at that. As do you.

"Perhaps he will learn," she says.

"Perhaps not," you reply.

Eloise hurries over to her brother, who is about to climb onto a horse. You had already said farewell to him.

"Give my regards to Madame Delacroix." She says to Benedict.

"Your regards will have to wait, El," he responds. "She is making a short trip to France."

"Oh? Not going to say goodbye to her?" Eloise asks.

"I did. Last night, if you must know."

Benedict had gone to see her after he bid you goodnight. He went to say goodbye. After seeing you at the ball last night, he decided to change his mind on a few things.

Granted, the goodbye was a long one. He spent a couple of hours at the shop, but nothing untoward happened.

"You said goodbye to her?"

"After Daphne's ball, yes." Benedict then mentioned he spent most of the ball with you.

Eloise worked out that if Madame Delacroix had been at the shop all night. That couldn't have been her in the carriage when Eloise went to protect Whistledown.

Eloise headed back inside.

"Are you coming?" Benedict calls.

You turn and see him on his horse. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He chuckles.

"Where?"

"One last ride around the square before me and my family leave for the summer." He offers.

You smile and look up at him. "I'm not dressed for riding.

"No matter. He offers you his hand."

"Benedict... we cannot create a scandal at the very end of the season."

"Why not?" He grins

"Because I said so."

He laughs.

"Very well. I'm glad you came to see us." He says.

"Me too. Have a lovely summer, Benedict."

"You too." He speaks your name softly, smiling. You both stay like that for a moment, looking at each other. The moment is broken we spurs his horse onward.

You watch him go with a smile.

You look around the square and sigh softly.

Next season was going to be different. It had to be.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[gladiatorcunt]

summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader

cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe

wc: 1k +

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.

He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.

You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.

“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.

You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.

Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.

“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.

Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.

You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.

Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.

“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”

“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.

He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”

His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)

He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.

“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.

He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.

You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.

“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”

You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.

He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.

The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.

You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.

[aly4khq]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 - ♕♕♕

♕♕♕- 𝔁𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻, 𝔃𝓪𝔂𝓷𝓮, 𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓵, 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼

ꜱᴜᴍ: as the empress, you hold a strict title and don't take any bs from anyone. but who knows what happens once you are face to face with someone you've been crushing/investigating over.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: fluff, a little crying

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: around 1K-1.5K for each

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: this somehow took me ages to write like always, once i finish xavier's, i don't wanna do zayne, then i get to rafayel and i don't want to do sylus 🤦🏾‍♀️

↳ 𝚇𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚁 - you are the empress of Philos. (wc. 1200)

as you sat upon your throne, gazing at the group of bowed down princes at your feet, your mind ran overtime about the possible future husband you'd be destined to marry. the array of young men wishing to be the lover to the one and only Empress of Philos, wishing to be married to you. and with a sharp dismissal ticked off their future dreams of become an emperor.

your clothing consisted of w silk white material, wrapped around your lower waist but a golden bands, the material flowing down to your ankle. your chest held a criss-cross design which was designed with an aurelian coating. there were matching neck and wrist bands along with it, your hair flowed down your shoulder in bouncy curls.

many dukes, princes and even future kings have come to request to be on the list of your marriage. but every single one hasn't been up to your standards. after every introduction, you would visibly shrivelled in disgust at the sight of them all.

after realising that you were thinking to yourself, the next prince arose and walked up one step to your throne. once he was perched on the golden step, you expected the lad to sit down only for him to pose and speak with confidence. "greetings your highness, as it is i!—"

"absolutely not," you interrupted with a scoff and a mocking laugh, your hand waving him off. the face that he had nearly make you promote him to a jester, his whole aura had changed to one of confusion, he spoke with a tinge of melancholy. "but...but your majesty—"

this action earned him an eyebrow raise from you, your eyes narrowing, "are you defying me?" the whole room fell with fear as the man gulped at your serious torn, his body lowering as he knelt back down to his original position. "...apologies your majesty..."

you moved on, nodding your head at the guard to let the next person in. which they did, walking inside with a smug expression. his hands held his hips before he lowered to a bow as he spoke with a thick accent, "greetings your majesty, i am sir arthur smith, commander of the army..."

as he went on with his introduction, you scoffed, 'so he's from the north huh?'. despite his obviously proud and humble tone, you could tell that this particular person would be a problem to dismiss. he spoke once more with a wink, "would you like me to be your lovely husband?"

"no, not really." your answer was blunt, as he instantly dropped his whole attitude to one of rage. "pardon?" his tone dripped with disbelief, his hands clenched as he rose from his kneel. "i said no, exit my palace."

a huff came from the man below as he looked you up and down, "how dare you...how dare you to deny me? do you know who i am?" the guards and servant who were in the room nearly disintegrated at the sentence itself. no one goes against the empress, and definitely no one challenges you either.

your head tilted towards the man as you felt a burning sensation in your chest, the room's tension was enough to slice his head off before you did. "excuse me?" your hand pushed your body off of the throne you sat on, the rich materials of your attire fell in a satisfying manner. your golden bands clicking, your heels slowly dropping down the steps to that man.

"repeat that," you ordered, your tone calming despite the fire in your heart. your hand on your hips. the man below soon realised his mistake, his hand lifted as he tried to bargain with you, "wait...your majesty i was just!—"

your hand lifted to ever so angrily murder the man in front of you, your evol slowly protruding out of your hand before a hand gently held your wrist. "your majesty, you shouldn't get your hands spoiled on some lowlife." the voice itself soothed your heart, it was xavier.

despite being known as a serious title, your admiration for your personal knight has grown over the years. he was strong, handsome and even had the most squeezable face ever.

and even the feeling of his hand on your was enough to make a grown woman fold, your cheeks flushed with admiration and weakness. your head lifted up to see his face in glory, which was surprisingly also flustered. his pale cheeks slightly pink from being in such proximity of you, a feeling of submission running through his veins. "it...would be my pleasure to escort him out of here, your majesty."

both of you stared into each other's eyes, feeling the warmth grown in between you before the sounds of the man in front of you entered our ears. "ahem...? hello?" how dare such a disgusting man disturb you and your knight's experience together, both of you diverted your head to glare at the prince who stood at your feet. your eyes narrowed as you spoke with hatred. your foot lifted and pressed against his boot, releasing a loud cry of pain.

"may i remind you why you stand below me, kneel to your empress." the man — not wanting to disobey you any longer — lowering to his knees. you held a demanding eye contact with him before you scoffed, turning to xavier. "indeed you are right, take care of this man." your tone softened just slightly as you dropped your hand, walking back to the throne that you arose from. he nodded, his eyes visibly softening before they turned to the man. his hand taking out the sharp light blade from his waistband. "of course, your majesty."

and in one fell swoop, a flash of light came from xavier as that prince was sliced in many places and teleported somewhere else. his expression of sternness send waves straight to your stomach, your eyes travelled from his silvery hair to his luscious lips...then to his body when the same majestic man caught your attention.

"your majesty?" he called for you as you thought to yourself, and with a smile growing you spoke. "stand beside that man there xavier." with a confusion but obedient look, he followed your orders, standing in a formal manner beside the many princes who knelt there. his expression only lasting on your presence that sat on the chair.

as the room became as silent as a mouse, your body rose from the throne, holding the king's crown. everyone was waiting to hear their name speak out from your voice. xavier's own head lowered in anticipation, hoping that you'd go with the safer option.

"i, empress of Philos and the giver of life and death, have come to a conclusion for the future emperor of this kingdom. as 8 men laid below, there'll only be one staying in this palace for life does us eternity." you watched as xavier's face tensed in confusion, 8 men? there was only 7 who managed to get through to you. but it took seconds for him to click in his mind.

"a man who's submitted his submission to me years ago, a man who has already shown me his trust and honesty through his years of hard work," a deep pause of silence crept into the room, a little quiver coming from the guards who surrounded your throne, also awaiting with curiosity.

"xavier, stand and receive your crown." your voice bloomed in the echoey space, the sounds of xavier sucking in a breath as he lifted his head. he walked towards you before kneeling once again. you placed the crown on his head, and ass it connected, the placeholder of your star shaped gem shone with light.

"...thank you, your majesty." he spoke with sincerity as you looked down at the man with a grin. your left hand clicked to the other guards and knights in the room, "escort the rest out, and don't return to this room until further notice, your empress and emperor need to spend some time together."

↳ 𝚉𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴: you are the empress of another kingdom, zayne wants you to join his own empire. (wc. 1,111)

you sat in front of your highly decorated vanity, staring into the oval mirror that was placed on top of it. the day's stress slowly exiting your mind as you relaxed your muscles from all the adventures you did today for your kingdom. but there was one thing you couldn't stop wondering about. the foreseer's frequent letters.

"what emperor seeks to an empress about his own selfish desires?" you complained to your head maid with slight annoyance and confusion, your hands taking off your now frozen gloves— sculpted because of your anger towards this man. the hairband that ties your hair in a bun gracefully fell as the pristine white locks followed, just landing at your chest. a deep exhale filling your ears.

"apologies if this seems offensive your majesty, but maybe he weeps to see you in person?" with a timid tone, the maid spoke behind you, helping with the hair accessories you had placed earlier today whilst also massaging your scalp from all your worries. she was one of your closest maids you've ever had, and she knows how this whole scenario has really been going. "shall i read out the other letter, your majesty?"

you scoffed, "there's another? how many letters will he send me until he finally gives up on...whatever deal he wants me to comply to?!" your hands pinched the bridge of your nose, before you waved your other hand to confirm that you'd like to hear it.

she cleared her throat before speaking, "my dearest jasmine, empress of my heart, my wishes only relate to your presence. you have brightened my own flower, perched on my tower as i await for your response. my love, my dear, respond to my call and meet me at fall."

that message alone made you feel...loved, the poetic rhythm intoxicating to your heart as you let out a unsure breath. despite your sheer ignorance to it, someone else could easily catch on to your—

"love! he's in love, your majesty!" she exclaimed with happiness for you, which to returned with a whine. "i can see that." who knew that such a high titled man could be head over heels for you, especially someone who is considered as a semi-god to every kingdom in the world.

"i think it's time for me to sleep this silliness away, my bed calls me." your delicate hands placed your gloves neatly on your desk, your legs waddling over to your precious, triple sized bed. "you're dismissed," you spoke to the maid as she nodded, packing away the contents of your wash bag with delicate hands and tie it with the finest ribbon that you had received from — unsurprisingly — zayne. she placed it gently beside the mirror before turning to you, assisting you in putting on your bonnet before bowing once more and walking towards the door that awaited her.

"good night your majesty." she whispered back to you before leaving your room, making sure to gently shut the large doors. her footsteps disappearing down the hallways. meanwhile, the duvets were submerging your body while your eyes closed, a deep sigh coming from your mouth as you let everything die out onto your pillow.

the soft sounds of the night travelled through your window; tweets of birds flying around endlessly without a care, the sounds of the many animals also taking themselves to bed, the crickets alerting you that it was indeed late, and the sounds of your doors opening once more.

...wait a minute.

your body shot up, instantly looking in the direction of your door. but a figure, dressed in the rich attire blocked your way. clothing you're way too familiar with. with slight fear, you stared up at the man, your hand instantly shot out to strangle the man with your evol when that same hand held your wrist.

"hush, my dear, i came to see you." a deep but very calming voice pushed away the silence, that same hands gently pulled you upwards to his chest. just as you stared to admire who it obviously was, the moonlight shone through your window...illuminating the face of the foreseer.

"...zayne.." you held an intense gaze before you narrows yours in anger. your other hand hitting his chest. "you idiot! who in their right mind would sneak up on an empress like that!?" you yelled out, only because he gave you the fright of your life.

with a deep chuckle, his other hand swiftly went to your back, lifting you bridal style as you let out a little gasp at the sudden change of balance. "let me go!" his grip was firm, giving you the impression that he wouldn't be leaving without you.

"we'll be arriving at my throne in a little, i've, quite frankly, gotten tired of not seeing my love in person." whilst he let your room, you saw the head maid winking at you from her room before disappearing. a sigh escaped your mouth, this was gonna be a long night...and the journey was even more exciting and interesting. he was telling you stories on why and how he even managed to fall in love when you are fork two different kingdoms. which all lied in one thing.

"when we were children, at a grand ball, i noticed you from miles away. your aura was intoxicating, and you looked so beautiful. i couldn't take my eyes off you the whole night. but when i went to tell you that, you had disappeared." your face softened at the thought. "i looked, for many many years to find you, and every time i did, you'd—" he paused before speaking in a softer tone. "you'd somehow escape and someone else managed to charm your interest before i did. but i put in work for years and here you are in my arms."

he continued, "i sent you those letters because my parents did not allow me to exit the palace, until i finally explained why i wanted to do dearly." his hands held you tighter as he readjusted your position so you were hugging his neck, your chest against his. his eyes stared into yours, and you could see the galaxy rested in his.

you began to feel sleep take over your eyes, you dozing off for a good minute but you fought it, you had too. but his deep chuckle managed to wake you up more as his hands rose, pressing your head agaisnt the crook of his neck. his chin rested above your hair. "sleep, my dove. i've lost you multiple times but i'll never let you go again."

and by the time you made it to his throne, sleep had taken you easily. your head rested against his shoulder, a long navy blue cape around your smaller body. he spoke with sincerity, "i ever so love you, my empress."

↳ 𝚁𝙰𝙵𝙰𝚈𝙴𝙻: you are the goddess of Lemuria (wc. 1102)

deep in the waves of the ocean, you sat at the throne that was filled with many seas treasures that visitors, guests and mostly your beloved knight, rafayel. the same man who you ever so wished to exile just because of that bratty attitude of his. the amount of times mermen and mermaids would manage to capture the moments of you and him quarrelling in your own throne room was way too high to even count on your fingers. he was arrogant, and you were stubborn which was definitely not a very good mix to have.

despite the arguing, rafayel and you both shared moments of sincerity and admiration where he'd be flustered by the slightest look of you dressed in your wave-themed skirt wrapped around your waist and the decorative chest protection that matched his. your hypnotic hips that swayed at the sounds of your mermaids and mermen singing at every event that was held in your palace, the ever so adored palace of Lemuria.

today was a special day for you, it was the day where you'd choose your future husband, the future emperor of Lemuria. there were men from different cities and backgrounds of the kingdom who arrived at the palace's gates to try and audition to be your significant other. and you already hated the whole thing before it even started . "i don't want to do it rafayel..." you complained to your knight, your head slouched on your vanity desk as your hands laid limp in your lap, rafayel's position stood behind you. his hand working wonders on your sore, stressed muscles, his voice even softer. "then why attend? the last time i checked, you're the empress.

even though that tone was a little bratty, you let it slide just this once. with a sigh, your eyes closed at the sensation of his fingers. the whole room was engulfed with stress, tension flying through the air as you kept quiet, not wanting to reveal your melancholy to the rest of your world. "my mother requested from far lands that when she arrives from her journey i should be engaged by the least. do you understand how demanding that is?" his neutral face slowly turned to a sympathetic one, his body sitting down next to you by the desk whilst also wrapping an arm around your waist. you didn't notice it, until you feel yourself being grabbed and pulled by that same knight.

his face was barely even 5 inches away from yours, his eyes taking their time to admire your features with love. his other hands went to your cheek, gently using his thumb to caress the soft skin, his lips opening to land a kiss on your cheek. "you have to realise that you choose the person who you love, don't let any silly—"

"don't insult my mother." you snapped back, "okay! okay! i won't," he chuckled at your reaction before sharing this moment with you. his hands slowly descending down your body and to your back, you arched in impulse unknowingly bringing your face closer. your own hands rose to touch his shoulder, holding onto him with confirmation. both of you closed your eyes, leaning in to hopefully feel each other's lips pressing.

and you waited, until a soft giggle came from the man above. your eyes opened as you saw him just falling in love with your face. your frown was obviously clear, but rafayel was bluntly unaware of it. that face soon went to one of pain and confusion, when you slapped his arm in anger.

"rafayel!" "sorry! sorry!"

once you made your way to the balcony where you'd stand while the many men and woman below you kneeled at the sight of your jewellery shining in the light, a sheet of fear and dominance laced over the room. the organiser that originally made sure that everyone had arrived rose his head before speaking in a timid tone, "y-your majesty, here i present to you many civilians from far lands...shall i begin?"

the silence that followed after nearly made the organiser shit himself, feeling like he was about to get assassinated for doing something wrong until you let out a scoff. your own voice overpowered every other noise in the room, "there's been a change of plans," the Lemurians below rose their heads hesitantly, confused at what could've happened. and rafayel decided it was okay to speak, "and what's that your highness?—"

"i'm getting to it." your head snapped to rafayel who decided it was okay to speak over you, your glare enough of a reason for him to shut their lip until further notice. "people of Lemuria, i've come to a conclusion where there's a...brave, handsome, strong man who's taken my heart for his own sake." the woman all groaned and whined.

"...he is not in the line at the moment, but he shall stand where he is." the feeling of fear grew, a sudden drop of atmosphere nearly knocked you off your flats. the guards, knights and civilians all stared at one person, who you then joined.

"...hey hey hey...! why am i being gawked at?" rafayel spoke with a slight confusion in his tone, his gaze going all over that place until in his peripheral he spotted you. slowly approaching him with your hands out, you held his tightly. "rafayel," your tone dropped in sternness, becoming the softest it's ever been, your hands held together before he understood with a nod.

both of you held each other's hands as you closed your eyes, embracing the feelikg of your love swirling and interlocking between the palms of your hands. the feeling of something moving appeared, something swimming around with glee. you unclasped your hands to see a blue fish, swimming in your palms. the room feel silent, untik it erupted in cheers— quiet cheers.

"rafayel, i declare you the emperor of Lemuria, God of the Sea." finally, you both hugged deeply, his hands lifting you into the air as he spun you around. after he missed you about a hundred times, he let you down. rafayel's grin has never been bigger, his hands ruffling your hair. "he-heyyyyy! i never knew you had the hots for me?" your brown cheeks flushed a maroon tint, your shyness finally showing as he laughed at you. only to receive another hit on the arm.

"so...my empress...how about we make our way to our bedroom?" you giggled before kissing his lips once again, both of you enjoying it until you pulled away. "you absolute tease."

↳ 𝚂𝚈𝙻𝚄𝚂: you are the "empress" of the Onychinus (wc. 1,500)

in the N109 Zone, you were known as the empress, the ruler of the lands that owned to the name, every what3worfs that landed in the N109 Zone was reported back to you. any trouble was given to your office, which laid in another important person's presence. you were known for your intimidating aura, and for your mysterious appearance to nearly everyone that even approached you. there's been times where people would submit just at the sound of your dismissal to anything that they said.

this lead to a particular leader of the organisation — that you have had to work with — starting to become more aware of this 'mysterious' woman that ran around the place like a fly to another. rumours came around that you were finally coming down to the huge auction that was taking place in the new week or so. so he took action, and that man was the one and only sylus. this meant that he'd definitely be there for that particularly night.

you've heard of sylus due to the impact he has on the N109 Zone, nearly everyone was scared of him. just nearly. and the amount of times you are called the 'King and Queen' of the N109 Zone was infuriatingly high, which made you even more determined to find out who this man really was.

"kyle!" you yelled out for your fashion designer, who came into the room with a confusion look before it turned to one of confidence. his hands hovering over the dress that you wore— red, silk material dripping down your body, shaping your curves and complimenting your brown skin. the v-line was decorated in feathers along with a ruby in the middle which connected the 'V'. "ooooo, look at you, my girl!" he cheered on, fascinated at the way it worked out while you rolled your eyes. "mhm, yeah yeah, i need you for a second."

"sure thing, what's up?" he spoke quietly, "did a string come out? does it feel uncomfortable?" you let out a scoff and a laugh before looking at the back in the mirror. "no no, i was just wondering how this...brooch is supposed to be placed on the dress. normally it's on the v-like but it's decorated enough and there's no space." you explained in a confused manner, putting the brooch in between your index finger and thumb.

this brooch had been delivered to you a day or two ago, the address or the sender was anonymous so you had it checked to be anything harmful or offensive to have in your profession. but you had a good feeling on who it was. "oh!" kyle replied, "i'd say that..." he gently removed the ruby before replacing it with the brooch, instead putting the ring on a hair lip and placing it on your bun with professionalism. "there we go! gorgeous as always." you thanked him before grabbing your fancy bag and calling up the guards and your driver.

meanwhile, sylus was waiting on top of the building, waiting to see where you'd emerged from. mephisto stood placed his broad shoulder, just twitching his head and making small sounds before sylus glared at him with the intention of shutting him up. his head turned back as he took a deep breath—

CAWWWWKKK!— "be quiet." the bird yelled even louder before finally shutting up, sylus pinching the skin in the bridge of his rideable nose. stress already colouring his face due to the mechanical crow who loves to torment this man. but he was finally taken out of that stage when he saw a few cars surrounding a tinted mysterious car that was in the middle.

they parked on the side of the road, the security guards coming out to secure the car before the door opened, your figure slowly appearing calm of the car. his heart fluttered nearly instantly as you made your way inside, talking to yourself as you fixed your dress. the auction nearly went completely silent as you entered, your face neutral as you moved around the auction with precision and curiosity.

"hello, your highness." a young man came to you, formally dressed and spoken as he addressed you with such a tittle. you laughed, "oh please, just call me by my name." despite the love for the fame and powr, you hated when people acted like you were the head of the world. at the end of the day, you two bleed the same and are all connected somehow. he nodded before calling you by your name, "would you like to be interested in our most recent additions to our place?"

with a hum, you nodded, implying for the boy to start walking and showing you the way. he led you to a place that was surrounded by citizens, all of them making way whilst also admiring the protocols that stood in the centre of the room. it was red in colour, a black and crimson mist swirling around it. the diamond shape made it seem so cute and rich in wealth but you just shrugged.

"is there anything more...high quality?" you asked with a slight disinterest in this current auction show, the man feeling a little upset that you didn't enjoy it. "well, there is one more..." that same boy led you to the VIP section, a large circled glass contained the powerful protocore inside of it, despite it's small size. but yet again, that black and red mist was surrounding it like magic. and one thing clicked in your head straight away.

your suspicions were correct as the protocore disappeared in your own eyes as a presence came behind you. that must gently touched the brooch. "so you've arrived?" you clicked your fingers as you turned around, instantly faced with a hard chest, your hand went out to push him back a little. your body leaning back as you stared up at that face, finally seeing him in his glory and this up close. "sylus."

your eyes looked at him up and down as he did the same before his hands slipped around your waist pulling you back in. "my oh my, who knew that the empress would be in such a low in quality auction place?" he spoke with a big ego, you could taste it in his cologne— and that exactly cologne made your eyebrow rise, it smelt good. yet to make yourself more professional, you spoke with the same confidence. "who knew that the one and only leader of Onychinus would be at that same auction?"

he let out deep chuckle, a chuckle that could cause sun earthquake if loud wenoufh. the sound waves tickling your spine. "how cute," his hand traced your cheeks. "but i think you'd look even cuter with your sweet little self in my base." you replied with a roll of your eyes before you felt yourself being pulled by an unexplainable force, your bodies even closer as he lowered to one knee. "what do you think you're doing?" he wrapped an arm at the back of your legs before standing up, your body perched on his shoulder as you let out a small yelp. "you absolute—" he lifted you higher with a shift of his hip, you let out a small gasp before walking out of the VIP section and near the door.

he stood in the middle of the auction talking to your security guard "me and my empress are leaving, so all of you go home." with a nod, the security guards all went back to their cars and took off to your house once again. "sylus," you called out as he started to walk out of the room, and outside where he called down to someone. or...something.

you saw how a cow rested on his other shoulder, you exclaimed. "what the fuck?!" he laughed at your reaction before explaining, "this is mephisto, my little...pet. he'll like having a new friend." you scoffed, instantly realising what he was implying. "oh you arsehole." his hand grasped your thigh before he sighed.

"there'll be a change of...atmosphere for a split second. so brace yourself, empress." he warned, making your body tense up before you felt it. the feeling of instantly speed for a nanosecond before he magically ended up in a crimson and black room, the feeling nearly making you sick. "oh...my—" he let you down before you suddenly held your mouth, his eyebrow rose.

"let's go to the bathroom," he spoke with a soft tone before leading you to his large bathroom to puke out your guts. his hand holding your hair back as the other rubbed your back gently, "if you can speak, confirm it." you took a deep breathe before glaring at him, "confirm what?"

his lips kissed your cheek, a hand patting your head as he wiped your mouth a little with a folded tissue, "am i officially the emperor of the N109 Zone?" with a giggle and a cough, you replied with a relaxed tone. "of course you stupid—"

"ah ah ah, no insulting your emperor."

"um? pardon you, i was the ruler first. know your place." "yes ma'am."

finally! i've posted! glad to see that i'm back in writing after a while, sylus was supposed to only be 900 words but look at that. thank for reading, hotties!

do not steal @aly4khq's work even though they are trash!

date made: 23-25/9/24

i do not for permission for anyone to repost, plagiarise or copy into other platforms!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[queenofmistresses]

A Feyd x reader x paul

Where reader is Paul’s concubine and Feyd falls for her. And Feyd wants her as his Na-Baronness/Baronness and says something along the lines of “with Paul you are just one lady of many but with me you are the sole Na-Baroness”

part 1!!! splitting this up so I have some more time to write part 2! hope you like it!!

Paul Atriedes has multiple concubines, gifts from his father. When he was 15 I was ‘chosen’ to be one of his concubines. It wasn’t too bad to be honest, it is a safe position and role in the house. We each have our own rooms, we do not have to worry about food or clothes, and he is overall respectful of us. He does however, enjoy showing us off, especially during diplomatic events where other houses visit the planet or if he travels to theirs. Never all of us at once of course but he makes us get all dressed up when there are visitors even if we are not being paraded around with him, and he drags one of us around to all the events with him. It is tiresome but we really do have it better than we would if we had not been chosen for this role, we would likely just be servants otherwise, so we try not to complain.

This event is an unusual one. The Baron of Geidi Prime is visiting along with his nephews. It is rare for there to be direct communication between the houses, the Duke and the Baron not wanting to be around each other for extended periods of time despite the advantages of being allies. This time, they’re staying for a full week. From what I’ve overheard through staff as well as listening into conversations, if this event goes well then there will be more like these in the future.

On the first evening of their stay, the Duke holds a stupidly fancy social event for the members of the house and the guests. The poor kitchen staff have been slaving away to cook enough food, and the right food, to deal with the Baron’s greedy appetite. The diet of the Harkonnens’ is hard enough to prepare. I’ve offered to help where I can but it has still been a big effort for the staff. And I haven’t had much time myself with preparing for the event. As it is such a big event, Paul has planned to bring more than one of us, which has included me, so I’ve had to ensure I am dressed up enough. 

Honestly it is humiliating, being dressed up like a doll, to be property to a man. I don’t know how Jessica did it before the Duke fell in love with her. Though, she was able to wear her Bene Gesserit uniform and it would be considered rude to expect any different. 

I have always been fascinated by the Harkonnen culture, though my studies had to stop when I became property of Paul. Their traditions and their ways of ruling, their methods of training for battle, it is so vastly different from other houses I have studied or interacted with. I’m hoping that being shown off at this event would at least give me the chance to converse with the Harkonnen soldiers and learn more about their planet. 

Paul plans to enter with my closest friend, Helena, and me and a couple others will enter independently. I feel sorry for Helena, but I know she does not so much being dragged around as much as me. 

I arrive about an hour after the event begins, knowing it would be better than entering right at the start where there are less people. This way, people take less notice. I find myself a drink and move to the edges of the room, watching people interact and getting an idea of the guests. I’m aware of someone’s gaze on me, but it is a feeling I have become used to and choose to take no notice of it. My eyes find Helena and Paul and to my disappointment they spot me too. 

I watch him trail his eyes down me, I can’t help but feel disgusted by it. They begin to walk towards me and I attempt to plaster a grin to my face. Paul’s arm immediately reaches for my hips, pulling me into him as he continues to inspect me. “You look gorgeous,” he whispers, leaning close to my ears, “I can feel everyone’s jealousy.”

Truthfully, I’m not sure he can, half the time I can’t tell if he is trying to convince himself or me. Probably himself. He loosens his grip on Helena in favour of clinging onto me and encourages me to move further into the room with him. He doesn’t really speak to anyone, to my frustration, and his grip on my hip is ridiculously tight, like he’s expecting me to run at any minute. 

After a while we’re approached by a Harkonnen, he addresses Paul first, tilting his head down in a subtle, but polite, bow. Then he faces me and I realise who it is, the youngest nephew of the baron, na-baron Feyd-Rautha. He lifts my hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, “My lady,” he greets me. 

I tilt my head down and bring myself down to a slight curtsy, “My lord na-baron, it is a pleasure.” I have heard many stories of the na-baron, his impressive skills in the fighting arena, his cruelty to his servants, his cannibal concubines. It was intimidating, but strangely fascinating, as with much of Harkonnen culture. The idea that I was actually meeting him, and he seemed to be showing me some sign of respect, is unbelievably exciting. 

I watch the two men converse for a few short minutes before Paul says goodbye, forgetting about my presence and walking away from us to find something else to do. I feel quite awkward left standing with the na-baron, but he seems to be watching me quite intensely. I’m just about to excuse myself from the conversation when he starts speaking to me. “So you are one of his concubines?” He doesn’t seem to say it with any judgement or pity, which is unusual. So much so that I can’t help but let out a small chuckle. 

“Yes, I am.” I struggle to come up with anything more to say in response. He seems to watch my face for a moment when he hums. 

“Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the balcony?” he indicates towards the doors subtly, “I would like to speak more with you but it is rather crowded in here.” I try to squash my enthusiasm at the chance of having a proper conversation with him, I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea. 

“That would be lovely na-baron.” I bow my head slightly and let him lead the way to the balcony, and watch as he shuts the doors behind us. I lean against the railings and feel him stand next to me, looking ahead of us with me. 

After a short moment he starts to ask about life as a part of the Atreides household, watching me as if I was talking about the most important things. Somehow it feels easy to talk to him, as if we’re old friends. I work up the confidence to ask about his culture and life on Geidi Prime and he tells me about the rituals he does before a fight in an arena. It is odd, his stature is so sure and serious, yet at the same time he seems almost comfortable. 

We talk for what feels like hours but is probably only one, before I hear the doors open, breaking the bubble we’ve put ourselves in. Paul stands at the doors watching me for a moment before he requests my company - it’s not actually a request but it would be rude to just drag me away in front of other people. I turn to the na-baron and curtsy, thanking him for his time before taking the arm Paul has out for me to hold and letting him pull me away from the event. 

Over the week that the Harkonnen house is visiting, I find myself in the company of the na-baron again. I don’t know how it kept happening but he seemed to turn up any moment that I was not already preoccupied. He would offer to walk me to wherever it is I was going to next, or escort me on a walk around the gardens, and we would quickly find ourselves in various conversations. 

I found myself growing very fond of the na-baron, whenever I was on my own for more than a moment I would hope that we would bump into each other. And when we did, I would have to stop myself from grinning far too wide at his presence. Despite all of the stories I’ve heard, he never came across as frightening or unkind, in fact he’s listened to me ramble on about extremely mundane things many times and even seemed to enjoy it. 

On the last day of the visit, we take a walk around the garden together again, and I somehow find myself complaining about my situation with Paul. I can’t even remember what caused me to go down this tangent but before I know it I’ve been rambling for far too long. I grow self-conscious and stop myself from going further, “My apologies na-baron, I shouldn’t be complaining, I am luckier than some in my position.” I mutter out, staring at the ground below us as we walk. 

I hear him hum in thought beside me and come to a stop, prompting me to do the same. “I believe I understand, you feel… overlooked, like if you were gone then he wouldn’t care but at the same time trapped because you’re not allowed to leave despite that.” He seems like he’s deep in his thoughts but what he says explains it so well so I let myself nod at him. At my confirmation he hums again before continuing the walk. 

When we arrive back I go to thank him for escorting me but I stop when he looks as though he wishes to say something. “I would like to stay in contact after we leave your planet,” he says, not letting any emotions show on his face again. I let a smile show on my face at his request and nod. 

“I would like that as well na-baron, that would be lovely.” He nods and takes my hand, bowing down and pressing a light kiss to the back of it and I bow my head down in response. 

“Thank you for keeping me company during my visit, I will write to you when I return to Geidi Prime.” He promises before he walks away from me. I watch him go and let  myself feel the slight giddy feeling at the idea of continuing contact with him. 

[robin-evry]

oooooohhhhhh i love the idea of a yuu based on athanasia de alger obelia from who made me a princess or maybe roxana agriche from way to protect the female lead's older brother or keira parvis from actually I was the real one or even Penelope eckart from death is the only ending for a villainess

Since I can't pick which one, I'm gonna do all of them. I'm actually not a big manhwa reader. As well if you notice I've been slowing down. It's because I'm busy or tired from work.

𝐓𝐖𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔

( English is not my first language )

Day 7 : manhwa!yuu

𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 👸🌼

Athanasia de Alger Obelia is the main protagonist in Who Made Me a Princess, and the current Crown Princess of the Obelian Empire. After reading a romance fantasy novel named The Lovely Princess, the protagonist goes to sleep and finds herself reincarnated into the infant body of Athanasia

the princess of NRC, poise and elegant. Many students wonder why they are in NRC, when they should be in RSA. Headmaster umbrigde of RSA offered them a scholarship on RSA. but was rejected by them because they don't want to leave their friends.

Vil favorite. Usually make examples out of them saying to epel that he should act more like them. Epel originally don't like them thinking they are just similar to vil or are annoyed by constant comparison.

One of NRC prodigies, similar to riddle, Azul and malleus. Even tho Athanasia!yuu is known to be a kind person

𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄!𝐘𝐔𝐔 🦋🌹

Roxana Agreece is the Protagonist of the Roxana series. She is the daughter of Lante Agreece and Sierra Agreece, and the biological younger sister of Achille Agreece.

The serpent of NRC, Roxanne would be very observant, strategic as well,very calculating. Able to manipulate situations into their favor.

They might appear charming and polite on the surface but always have a hidden agenda. They can easily influence or secretly guide people's decisions to their benefit. Some students manage to recognize their intentions like riddle, Azul and Leona.

Roxanne!Yuu have the ability to control or create poisonous butterflies that are created by their own blood, these butterflies can work as eyes and ears for them, these butterflies can devour anything as well to cast illusion.

𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀!𝐘𝐔𝐔 🗡️🪻

Strong and resilient, kiera!yuu are an independent student. They are very sharp and observant able to pick up on subtle cues and hidden motives,They wouldn’t take anyone’s words at face value and would often find themselves questioning the intentions of others, particularly the dorm leaders and those in positions of power.

Kiera!Yuu might not be immediately outgoing, they would be fierce when standing up for themselves and their beliefs. They would quietly but determinedly pursue their goals, unwilling to back down once they’ve set their sights on something. deep down Kiera!yuu have a soft spot over the people they care.

Even tho not being skilled at the art of magic, Kiera!yuu is very athletic and Mobile they are very strong in managing to suppress many students using their skill, as well as master swordsmanship they are able to head on head with some powerful students like Lilia in martial arts.

𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄!𝐘𝐔𝐔 🌹🌺

Penelope Eckhart was the original villainess of the otome game Daughter of the Duke - Love Project! in Normal Mode and the heroine in Hard Mode.She was the adopted daughter of Duke Eckhart, her role being to replace the Duke's original daughter, Ivonne Eckhart. She had a bad relationship with her family and was relentlessly abused by the servants which caused her to have a bad personality that earned her a bad reputation. She died in all of the original routes of the game in Normal Mode.

Penelope!yuu would approach relationships in Night Raven College with extreme caution would be thinking several steps ahead in every interaction.they’d be acutely aware of how fragile their position is and would work to secure their place in the school while avoiding conflict where possible.

Though they may come off as cold or indifferent at first, they are driven by the need to survive and avoid the metaphorical "bad ending." Yet, like Penelope, they harbor a secret desire for genuine care and understanding from others, even if they struggle to show vulnerability.

Similar to kierra yuu, Penelope!yuu would be sharp, immediately finding a solution over any situation, as well as a very skilled swordmaster. Have very quick and swift attacks before the enemy.

[comfortless]

what if König does see his knight being more ladylike? or maybe even in a dress? sorry they’re just so cute i love this au lol

you are never getting her into a gown… not ever.

except at a special event (:..?

There’s a summons for König and the lady knight to attend a ball. At the castle, no less. The sheet of parchment dents weighty in her hand as she tugs it free from the message board at the center of town— a list of names, hers and König’s included; quite high, too, above even dukes and duchesses from foreign kingdoms and a wonderful knight who had braved an attempted siege and won the King victory.

It makes no sense… they’re essentially hired thieves, roaming through caverns of filth filled with the dead, stealing what’s never been their own and never will belong to them for profit. There’s no honor in their work, despite the way she puffs her chest in pride and so often declares that one of these expeditions will earn her a seat at the royal table.

Still… they had retrieved that object for the Queen, and it seemed the materialistic royalty deemed that well and good enough to consider them worthy.

König is unperturbed— he’s never been one for these formal affairs, dressing up in a tight fitting suit of ruffled fabric, chest adorned with a shimmering brooch and his blade kept tucked away far out of reach. His knight on the other hand… Her face is practically glowing, he’s never seen her smile so wide or so sweetly.

Of course… she doesn’t have some silky gown to her name, only cold steel and endless straps… not even a proper corset. König can’t help but notice her pout when they begin to prepare. Though he thinks she’s pretty, perfect even as battle-worn she is, it’s clear she wants to be more so as she stares longingly out of the window of the inn at all of the beautiful ladies riding on horseback to approach the castle gates, their gowns each as intricate and immaculate as the braids and curls and lengths of their hair.

He doesn’t get it- he’ll just go in his normal clothes, but like any proper suitor would do… he buys her a gown from the tailor a few buildings past the inn. The most expensive one he can get his paws on with the hoard of gold they collected from their last adventure. (Who knew slaying a few reanimated skeletons to give a cursed femur and jaw bone to an old witch could count as a job?!)

The dress is certainly… tailored to his preferences: it’s a lacy thing, dyed a shimmering bluish gray, creamy lace trims along the cuffs and hems, the collar dipping down into a ‘v’ to properly frame her tits. He didn’t expect it to be any lovelier than what his imagination supplies when she does put it on, and yet he finds himself utterly stifled by the sight.

He’s seen her nude, pawed at and groped her hundreds of times, but as she stands before him shyly lifting the dress at her hips and glancing at the wall, the floor, anywhere except from directly at him… his pulse begins to race. Of course, he picks her up and buries his face against her neck, whispering about how pretty she is, how much he adores every new side of her, and promptly ruins it by detailing how he would like to tug her laces loose with his teeth later in the evening after the dancing is all over. She shoves him away, hissing like a startled kitten but he’s certain she casts him a little smirk the moment that he does relax his grip.

The ball is no less extravagant than she had expected. Food and luxury wine adorn every table: cheeses, fresh baked bread, smoked meats and pies, fruit of many kinds, and the wine all sweet and bitter and so very unlike the thick mead that burns as it goes down that they’re accustomed to. The dresses, the elaborate dances, the beautiful sounds of music feathering through the air- all of it. She even gets to drink from a goblet made of silver, and her eyes light up when a servant fills it to the brim.

König despises it all.

He tucks himself away, flooding himself with food and the few gilded pitchers of actual ale he’s managed to threaten a servant into retrieving. He notices the eyes on her always, as she dances with the other ladies and smiles adoringly over at him each time their eyes meet. Her grace translates well here from battle, each step taken with some extracted precision that she’s learned from flailing her blade around in the darkness… her partners giggle against her ear as they curl their arms around her, many adrift to either side waiting for a turn.

It’s only when a man does approach his lady knight that König’s had enough. She’s tipsy and far too cute, stands out like pure treasure amongst this adoring flock, and the bastard’s eyes are on her breasts when he asks her to dance. The other man is yanked back by his scruff and tossed to the marble floor, eliciting startled gasps and even… some sweet sighs from the women surrounding as they fawn over how romantic it must be that a brute like him wouldn’t allow another man near her.

His knight only smiles at him when he leads her away, out of the grand hall and down the corridors of the castle until they find themselves before a window that seems to overlook the entire kingdom. The music still plays, the voices still chatter, but they’re all muffled and subdued someplace far away… and König only feels the world seem to come to a grinding halt when she asks him to dance with her here.

He doesn’t have the same tact or skill as the others when he moves: swaying her in a grip like iron ‘round her waist, dipping with her when her back arcs that almost leaves his face flush with her chest. It’s clumsy at best, far less flowery and sweet than when she danced with the other women, but he tries his best to not entirely ruin her night— unaware that she’s far too drunken and giddy to care. She wouldn’t have batted an eye if he had snapped that man’s neck, if only he rewarded her patience with a dance like this.

They meld together, a perfect fit when she stands on his boots and drapes her arms around his neck to press her chin to his chest. The frolic comes to a quiet end as they whisper back and forth about what happens next, after tonight. When the sun rises and they’re back on their feet… He swears to her that they’ll buy a horse, subtly hints that the offer to settle will always be present and she only shushes him with a kiss, one that she laughs into as she tastes the ale on his tongue.

Those strings are, in fact, loosened by his teeth as she lies on their shared bed with him later into the evening. He traces every dip and curve of her body through the silk as he works away at relieving her of the gown, then the corset with slow, precise movements and tugs. She laughs again when he hisses praises from behind her, licks and nibbles a hot path along her skin, rests his head against the smooth flesh of her back when the corset finally lays to either side of her.

His fingertips graze from the back of her neck, to her shoulder, further along the middle of her back before he stops himself. Despite the near constant ache, this isn’t how or where he wants this done: in some rundown inn outside of the castle, her veins flooded with red wine. Instead, he only pulls her close in a cuddle, massages at her tits as she thanks him for accompanying her, for dancing with her despite his gait being more like a newborn foal than a proper stallion.

And when the moon finally reaches a peak in the night sky, her breathing slow and soft while she rests her head against his chest, he kisses the top of her head and pulls her in closer. Tells her that he likes either side of her, knight or lady it mattered not, so long as she remains at his side like this.

She nods to her own damnation, contentedly swearing her oath to him with one word, “Forever.” It comes in a soft murmur, eyelids already fluttering as he squishes her closer against him.

[channieskies]

Chapter II: The Heir of New Aeris

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Historical|Au, Fantasy|Au, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty|Au, Angst, Smut, NSFW tags are under the cut.

Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel?

Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites.

Word Count: 1691 [Reading Time: 7 mins]

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Story Index

Warnings⚠️: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. Mentions of Death (minor character)

The room had fallen into chaos. Confusion settling into the cracks of each duke's polished demeanor, all but one. “If the next child she bears is a girl, we will have to crown some other next of kin as the heir. Donnius, track down the king's sister and her son.” The rotund man told a servant who quickly skittered off to do as told.

“He would never be fit for king with his.. iniquitous habits. I object to the suggestion.” Another waved off the idea, his nose held high in the air with disgust.

“There is a distant cousin on his mothers side- Never mind that, Her appearance was just deceiving.” The hope quickly disappeared from another man's voice as he examined the royal family's tapestry.

A man sat quietly at the head of the table, watching the spectacle in front of him unfold. Had they forgotten the truth? Forgotten the old kingdom before darkness had fallen over it with the death of their queen? He groaned, stroking his gray lined beard. It was clear he was tired of watching things unfold as they were. 

“Have you truly forgotten how our Queen died?” The men in the room came to a halt as his booming voice filled the space. “She made the sacrifice of giving her life for the heir to this kingdom. Do not forget that. Don't EVER forget that.”

The rotund man cleared his throat before speaking, “No one has seen or heard from the prince in over a decade. Who is to say he's even still… with us, Ermias?” The man called Ermias stood from his seat, towering over everyone in the room.

“He is alive and safe.” He made his way to the door. “I will leave in the morning to retrieve the only option we have. Keep the kingdom and the royal family safe while I am away. If something goes awry, send my daughter on the fastest steed you have.”

“Your daughter?” The man in front of the tapestry laughed. Why would we send a woman when we have plenty of able-bodied, capable men that can do the job?” The other men in the room looked wide eyed at his sudden outburst. One even mouthed “You fool” as the words left his mouth. 

“Because my daughter is one of the most capable and trustworthy people in this kingdom. Because my daughter is more skilled than all of your men combined. So, I trust that my daughter will be informed of any mishaps, correct? Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a trip to prepare for.”

Ermias was the Duke of State for the Kingdom of Aeris, the newest acquisition of land conquered by King Seojoon. It was named after the king's late wife Aeri, after a war that lasted five years. Ermias was a general in the king's army and after his procurement of the land left him with a limp, he was promised a high position in the government. He worked through the ranks, becoming one of the king's most trusted advisors.

But Ermias hated politics. He considered himself to be more of a doer instead of one that dictated what the doers should do. Commanding an army felt completely different than what it was he did now. But at the behest of his wife and two daughters, he knew resuming his work as the general was not an option. So, he begrudgingly took a seat on the high council, helping to govern over the southern states of the king's land.

The commute home was tedious. His home was far from the castle town of  Volantis and even further from the new Kingdom of Aeris. He lived with his family on a plot of land that was left to his wife, passed down from generation to generation. An apple farm, with the most deliciously sweet fruits hanging from its trees. Their home was modest, just a few stories with a few rooms. The greatest in which was the library, intellect was the thing they held in most regard. The small castle almost swallowed up the vast land that surrounded its pale crape bricks. With an orchard, vineyard, and gardens bordering it, it nearly blended into its surroundings with all of the ivy covering its facade. He truly found his home to be as beautiful and inviting as the women who lived in it.

His long trip home concluded in the wee hours of the morning. He expected no one to be awake, so he was shocked when he found his eldest daughter camped out at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his arrival. “Father!” She jumped to her feet and into his arms, hugging him tightly. “How was the council meeting?” She moved to help him out his coat and shoes. “Have they all settled on an heir? Are they going to retrieve the prince?” She knew all about the Prince and how he'd been hidden away during the war. Ermias sighed, slipping his shoes off and pulling his daughter with him to his study so that they could talk more privately. 

See, Ermias had a son once, one that was seventeen years his first daughter's senior. Nikolas was the first born to the family. Both he and his wife Semira were very young when he was born. They were newly married when they got the news that they were expecting, but happy nonetheless. He lived to the age of twenty and he died fighting in the war alongside his father Ermias. He vowed that he'd never lose a child like that again. He taught his daughters in the years after how to not only defend themselves, but how to think  defensively and also know when to back down.

He was happy knowing that his girls would never have to fight in a war, especially unprepared. But, if need be, they could protect their home, their mother, and each other. “Sit. I'll tell you all about it.” His walk was heavy, tired from years of war and hard day's of travel. “They presumed the prince was dead. That is if they hadn't forgotten he'd existed entirely.” He shuffled through his desk, looking for something the king had given him many years before. “

“I have a feeling that a few councilors are trying their best to find someone they can control to put in the prince's place, just to amass power. We can't let them have their way, Volantis will fall and the kingdom will be in disarray. We are just recovering from the war, the people cannot suffer through another. I will pack my bags and make the trip to the Isle of Arcta in the mor-”

“No, father.” His daughter shook her head. “Send me and one of your best men. The trip is far too treacherous for you to travel. I know you'd never admit to it, but I know you've been ill these last few weeks. The stress of your job and having to help with some of the king's duties are taking a toll on you. So, I will go in your stead.” Ermias couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. His precious daughter had grown to become a strong and beautiful woman. He found the small pendant that he'd stored away for safe keeping. It was a symbol of how he'd helped the king secure the lands that were now under rule of the throne. One that would be recognized by the maid that kept watch over the prince.

“My darling daughter, my how you've grown.” He stood to his feet, remembering the last time a child of his took on a task this heavy. There was a display on his bookcase of swords he cherished too much to use. One of which was his son's, the one he was clutching as he died on the battlefields. It was one of Ermias’ most prized possessions, something that his father passed on to him and he passed on to his son. Now, he was passing it on to his daughter, along with the king's guard pendant he'd stored away.

Shaky hands grabbed the sheath and hilt of the old sword. He sighed, the metal feeling heavy in his hands with thoughts of the burdens of war, plaguing his mind. “This does not mean I want you to fight. I’m passing you this sword to protect yourself, to protect the prince.” He finally turned around, presenting the great sword to his daughter. The hilt was ornate gold and ivory, while the ricasso had the family's coat of arms; the raven on an apple. 

The rest of the blade had the family's motto written down in latin; “Po familia vivimus et pugnamus.” For family, we live and we fight. Then he placed the necklace around her neck, moving her hair out of the way to fasten it. The pendant sat low on her chest, falling between her breasts, where thankfully it would be hidden. If the wrong people were to see it, it would cause unnecessary trouble for her, and that was something he didn't want.

The sword was something that his daughter was told not to touch when she was a child. After his son lived and died by the sword, he was afraid she would suffer the same fate. The last thing he wanted was to lose his daughter the way that he lost his son. “Wake Minho, tell him to pack for the trip.” Minho was the duke's housecarl, he’d been with the family since boyhood. Ermias found him nearly dead in the woods during the war. 

Bandits found him and his mother, running from the onslaught of war that had overtook their small town. They did unspeakable things to his mother, killing her in the process. They nearly killed him too; beating the child until he was bloody and almost unrecognizable. Because of the trauma of that day, he hasn't uttered a word since. “I’ll prepare your carriage and horses.” He kissed his daughter's forehead, lips lingering there as if this would be the last time he’d ever get the chance to see her again. 

A.N: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

[Rewrites, Reposts, and Translations are Prohibited]

[lynnerdo]

* The heart is not meant to rule *

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc

Previous Chapter - Resurrection Current Chapter - Never lose me

***

It had been a few days after Feyd left to go back to Giedi Prime, wedding preparations he said. He didn’t leave you much time to bond after the kiss, nor did he have need for a conversation about feelings. You attribute it to his upbringing, assuming Harkonnen don’t talk about their feelings at all. So, you stow away yours for now.

*

Feyd wanted to make haste, he wanted nothing more than to stay on Caladan and ravish you before the wedding, but he also respected his duty and the rules involved with an arranged marriage. Should he break those rules, he wouldn’t be able to marry you. Intercourse before marriage wasn’t frowned upon, it was downright illegal. He had to put a distance between the both of you before his feelings could settle in the pit of his stomach and he lost all control.

*

A few weeks pass while Feyd is busy sorting out all the legal business, talking to servants to import certain items from Caladan, and even requesting an answer from you concerning your wedding dress and the sort. You receive the message during a sparring match with Duncan, who has been training you extra hard upon hearing the news that you were going through with the marriage.

He sees your face contort after a member of the staff gives you the message and asks what you want to respond with. It felt so, indifferent and impersonal, a message as black and white coming from Feyd, no love to be found, no greetings, just a demand. You frown as you respond to the messenger and turn back to Duncan, sighing.

He stays silent for a few moments, until the messenger leaves.

“I know it is not my place Lady, but do you mind if I give you any advice?” he sounded sincere and worried.

You nod at him, curious.

“Please don’t marry Feyd. I know it might seem like a good idea, if we’re speaking about bloodlines and dukes and barons, but… you should be with someone who loves and respects you.”

He got closer to you as he spoke those last words, his hair partially stuck to his face because of the sweat of battle. He extended his hand for you to take, and you did. Feeling anything at all was better than the dryness that got stuck in your throat when you received Feyd’s ‘demand’.

“Duncan, I-…” you trailed off.

You didn’t want to admit that you liked Feyd, it wasn’t love yet, but there was a certain attraction between the both of you. You wanted to explore this, even if it meant being married for a different cause. You just felt insecure after he left so fast, seemingly taking all the sweetness away from the moment you shared before.

Duncan pulled you into a hug, somehow knowing exactly what would help at this point. You felt his heart beat fast, faster than usual. He gave you a kiss on the forehead and continued to talk.

“Feyd has no idea how lucky he is. Should he ever try to hurt you again, I will intervene.”

He lets you out of the hug and takes your hands in his and goes onto one knee.

“If you ever feel doubt know that I’ll be here for you. I love you, Lady Atreides.”

He says as he kisses your hand. The confession feels heavy but sincere. You had no idea Duncan felt like this, you had always just assumed he was a man with his heart on his sleeve, loving all the Atreides family, because he had just always been there for you all. But a proposal?

“Oh, Duncan, I-“ you say as you feel a tear starting to roll over your cheek.

He comes back up and cups your face in his hands, wipes away your tears and kisses your forehead, and returns to hugging you. You softly sob as the heat of the older man gives you the comfort that you needed.

“I know.”

*

Feyd is struggling to get everything sorted, there’s a lot more shouting and killing of servants going on right now. He wants the wedding to be utter perfection, no place for errors, this includes everything you should bring or prepare. He shouts at a servant to ask about your wedding dress, and to make it quick. This explains why the message sounded so cold and demanding when you received it. The Harkonnen were anything but subtle with words.

He had been in and out of meetings concerning the festivities and he was about one more question away of killing another servant. He hated this, hated that he had to do everything, make all the choices, he should’ve just asked you to come along, but rules forbid. Curse the rules, he thought.

For an arranged marriage the people involved wouldn’t be allowed to see each other for a month before the marriage, this is to allow both families to prepare everything and make sure that the couple still wanted to get married. Also to get all the political things in order, most of all.

Feyd had 5 minutes of peace before he had a meeting with yet another person involved with the wedding. He was staring out at the arena and somehow missed simpler times like that. His momentarily peace got disrupted, however. A servant asked for his attention, it was Tula. Feyd knew how fond you were of her, so he promised himself that he wouldn’t hurt her. She was however, testing his patience at the moment.

“My Lord Na-Baron, I have a message for you, from Lady Atreides,” she spoke quietly.

Feyd shot up and took the message out of her hands, read it and a frown came over his face. Your reply was very formal, much the same as his question, or demand, felt to you. Yet he didn’t expect it to be so… dry. He looked up at Tula for a second, almost questioning her why your message didn’t sound nicer. He thought he knew you a bit more than that at least.

“My lord? Are you ok?” Tula questioned, seeing his face contort in several ways. “Fine,” his voice all gravely, he even sounded tired.

Tula started to walk away but then suddenly came to a stop. She considered the sentence she had on the tip of her tongue before finally saying it. As she turned back, Feyd looked up at her.

“My lord, … I have also received more information about Lady Atreides.” Her eyes trailed off, suddenly aware of the stare Feyd was giving her. “Speak.” He spit out. “… it appears that Lady Atreides has received a counteroffer for marriage, from Duncan Idaho.”

Feyd’s eyes narrowed into slits. Unaware of his next action, Tula wanted to make sure she would live after giving him the bad news, so she continued.

“Lady Atreides has declined his offer however,” she had no proof, but she also felt like you wouldn’t just bail on everything that had happened between you and Feyd.

She assumed you would say no to Duncan, considering the position you were in. A wild bet, to save her own life.

“Is that so…” he trailed off, started to stalk around Tula.

He took out his dagger and started to play with it, she feared for her life.

“It seems like I will have to teach Duncan some manners in the future.” He looked at Tula and then his dagger.

He reminded himself that the time would come where he got his revenge on Duncan and sheathed his dagger again. Tula almost sighed in relief.

“Send a message to Lady Atreides, tell her I look forward to making her mine soon.”

The implications where there, both innuendo and not, and Tula made sure she left as soon as she could.

*

When you receive the message, you’ve just finished bathing and are in a comfortable robe, hanging out on your bed. The staff member leaves the message in your hands and lets you be for the night. As you start to read the message you realise it’s from Tula. She tells you Feyd found out about the proposal from Duncan and wasn’t happy about it. She also conveys his own personal message to you.

“Make me his? Who does he think he is!”, you talk to yourself.

The way he talks to you ever since he left was very different from how he was on Caladan. No softness anymore, the Harkonnen in him had returned. You were sure that planet had something to do with it, Caladan was far more relaxed than Giedi Prime was. You decide not to answer him, it was only a few more days before you travelled to the planet yourself, so a response could wait.

You wonder if Duncan’s proposal had something to do with how cold he sounded in the message. You assumed it did, you didn’t see Feyd as an insecure person, but knowing how close you and Duncan were, anything could happen. You just hope Feyd doesn’t go ham on him and kill him. You fear that will be the only outcome, however.

You didn’t want to admit it, but you missed Feyd. It made you insecure to not have him around you. What was he doing right now? Did he also miss you? All these questions came floating to the surface as you kept thinking about him, and his hands, and his lips. And how strong he felt when he was holding you close, how his hands moved to your lower back and your legs, how his hot breath felt on you in the damp wet grass.

You instinctively open your robe thinking about him and start to touch yourself. You wanted nothing more but to feel him all over you, feel his hot mouth on your entrance. You imagine that your hands, are his, as you circle your clit. You insert two fingers and start to pump, cupping your breast in the other hand. You felt his erection as you sat on top of him, panting, and you think about how big he was, how he would stretch you, how he would make you his.

His cold words from the message now circle in your head, as you imagine him saying them out loud, whispering them in your ear from behind you, as he’s taking you. You come hard, thinking about him enveloping you, not stopping until you’re completely ripped at the seams. You imagine him holding you after, kissing you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, as you drift to sleep.

*

Feyd is having another night, however. His insecurity takes hold of him the night before your arrival. You hadn’t replied to his last message from a few days ago and he imagines you might just give up on the entire wedding, and so, give up on him. He keeps thinking about how he can convince you to marry him, what he would do to Duncan should he ever see the man again, and his anger boils inside of him.

He has thrashed his room already, broke a few chairs and killed a few servants, but nothing seems to help. A servant reminds him of the box they took with them from Caladan and he remembers the rose oil he took from his chambers. The servants draw a bath for him, with water, and put the rose oil in it. As soon as he enters the bathing area he relaxes. It feels like you are in there with him, soothing his fears and feelings, and calming him down.

He's not one to let his guard fall, but he drifts off into a soft sleep while he lay there. He dreams of you, in the damp grass, on top of him, under him, in any way he wants because it’s his imagination. He reassures himself that all will be fine once you’re here. He wakes and gets himself cleaned off. Before he goes to bed, he sprinkles some oil on his bed sheets, so that he would at least feel as if you were with him that night.

*

You travel to Giedi Prime on the day before your wedding. The rest of house Atreides would arrive later today. As you arrive you are greeted by a few servants, and you react with glee once you see Tula. You hug her and forget the differences in culture for a while before letting her go and straightening yourself. She has a soft smile on her face, however.

“Let me show you to your chambers, Lady Atreides.”

She walks in front of you as the other servants with your bags follow suit. As she ushers you into the room and your bags are in it, she closes the door and turns herself to you.

“My Lady Atreides, I fear I have a confession to make.” She looks strained.

You take her hands in yours, and you ushed her to sit down on the bed. “What is it, Tula?”

She shifts her eyes up at you, guilty for some reason.

“I was the one who told Feyd about the proposal from Duncan. I wanted him to hear from me, because I was afraid he might hurt you, should you have told him. I’d rather he hurt me, than you.”

You’re somewhat shocked but not for the reason Tula might think. She risked her life for you, knowing Feyd, he probably did end up hurting her.

“Did he hurt you?” you look at her, worried. “N-No, he did not actually. He only mentioned that he would have to punish Duncan, that’s it.”

You sigh, happy. But you’re also surprised he didn’t lash out at her. A mere servant in his eyes, what would be one more or less. Maybe Feyd was more perceptive than you thought.

“Tula, you did nothing wrong. You were loyal to your Na-Baron. I understand. I think Feyd will notice that I declined the offer if he sees me in a wedding dress tomorrow, we’ll be fine.”

You notice she had some tears forming in her eyes, so you decide to hug her, and she lets it all out.

“I hope he deserves you, Lady Atreides.” She tells you in between sobs.

It was the sweetest thing any servant had ever told you. You hope he still wants you as something more than a political pawn. Insecurity creeps back in as you prepare to go to bed before the big day. You wonder if he has any interest in you anymore as you drift off to sleep, worried and anxious.

[uhdrienne]

𝐦é𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞 •°. *࿐

🎻 feat: violinist!jun x violinist!reader, victorian era, enemies to lovers (kind of)

🎻 warnings: mentions of physical abuse (not explicit), mentions of cheating (but no one cheated)!!! not the best e2l i'm very sorry

🎻word count: ~11k

🎻 summary: in an era of music and dance, of dukes and arranged marriages, there is only one man whom you fight tooth and nail to play at the same tempo as -- legendary violinist wen junhui. people fall over themselves to dance to a song he plays, and festivities from all over the land request the pleasure of his attendance.

portraits are painted, praises sung of him, but you've only ever known him as your stiffest competition, in a society where outstanding women are frowned upon, reduced to mere puppets in the shadow of men. yet, amid domineering voices and too-loud presences, you have no option but to understand that he was the melody that played his way into your heart.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1870, November 11th

"Your Grace," You reach for the Duchess' outstretched hand as you exit the carriage, your other hand lifting your gown, the horses skittering as they reach a complete stop.

"My dear Y/N! It has been too long since you have graced our court," The Duchess seems pleased to meet you as she clutches your hand tightly, you squeezing it in return.

"It has been long," You agree. "It is an honour to play for the annual ball once more."

"Nonsense!" She trills a laugh, her hand coming up to cover herself. "Truly, it is our greatest blessing to be able to hear your music."

You smile in gratitude as she leads you towards the palace. "Thank you, Your Grace. I'm looking forward to performing for you as well."

"I'll have someone send up your bags to your rooms," She adds, continuing to walk you in. "The estate is busy today, what with the company we're having... and the two greatest violinists of our time!"

Your smile freezes on your face. It can't be, it's not possible--

"Of course, we're not expecting Sir Wen Junhui just yet, but I like the staff to be well-prepared-"

Wen Junhui. Of course, it had to be him.

"My dear? Are you alright?" The Duchess asks you, concern on her face. "I didn't have you just now."

"My apologies, Your Grace," You immediately say, a smile plastered on your face. "I...I must have been tired. Carriage journeys have never really been my preference."

"Of course, how could I forget!" The duchess sighs, before turning to the servants trailing behind. "Ensure Miss Y/N has everything she needs. She must be in tip-top condition for the ball." At the servants' bow, she turns back to you. "I must return to the preparations," she tells you. "Will you be alright heading to your rooms by yourself? The servants will lead you."

"Of course, Your Grace," You curtsy. "You really didn't have to lead me in, it was too much trouble. Please, I wish not to disturb you further."

Again, her tinkling laugh. "What words! You could never be a trouble to me, my dear friend."

You bid your farewell and as she leaves, the servants motioning to lead you to your chambers.

You shake your head lightly as you resume the walk. Wen Junhui, in the same place as you. What luck.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"You two surely have met, given your professions," The Duke tells you as he beckons to a tall man you know all too well. "It is my understanding that you both played for His Majesty's coronation the previous year."

"Indeed we did," His velvet-like voice, thinly masking his hostility, returns. "It was charming to be in her company."

"As if." Your mutter, thankfully, goes unheard by the Duke. Junhui, however, picks up on it, what with those sensitive ears of his that supposedly make him an oh-so-amazing violinist, and raises his eyebrows at you.

The Duke excuses himself soon after to find his wife, which leaves you and Junhui standing alone. His waistcoat, laced with what you recognise to be one of the finest silks in the market, rustles with his movement as he turns and faces you properly.

He bows to you in mock politeness. "My pleasure to be in your delightful company once more, Miss L/N."

You roll your eyes. "Skip the formality, for our sakes."

Amusement laces his cat-like features. "If you say so, treasure." The term of endearment stirs more irritation in you.

The hostility between you two dated back to your teens. Fresh out in the world and eager for opportunity, you tried to become the court violinist in the royal orchestra, to prove yourself not just as a talent but as a woman, only to be turned away with the memo that a violinist had already been chosen, the only one the court was looking for, and it had been Junhui, all lanky limbs but with the fervour of a highly determined seventeen-year-old.

And at the birthday celebration of a royal you didn't remember, for which your family watched from the gates, you heard him play for the very first time. The symphony the orchestra had played, the seamless chords and semiquavers that had flowed from his relentless fingers on the strings, and the firm press of the glowing horsehair of his bow had impressed every person in the audience. Except for you.

No, you were bitter, so, so, bitter, that the one chance you had strived for your whole life had been taken from right through your fingers.

From then on, you had been known, amongst many in your small town, not very kindly, to be the "young lady who had dared to pit herself against Wen Junhui".

Your mother and father had taken the remarks in shame, beginning to discourage you from pursuing music. Yet, you had taken no heed, continuing to find all ways to continue what had become your lifeline.

And as he soared, both in skill and in fame, to become the most popular violinist of the age, you worked equally hard at your art, staining your fingers with cuts and your wrists with injury as you strived to reach his heights.

And you had run into luck, for an academy run by a sharp-tongued man scouted you at a performance at your local church. Before long, you were on the stage, flitting from event to celebration, just as you dreamed. You played concertos and partitas to your heart's content, did opening acts for renowned orchestras, and headlined the stage in the courts of various nations, eager to keep climbing the ladder towards the goal that was Junhui.

But no matter your greviances, you truly enjoyed the stage. It was everything you had. You took pride in your work, you blushed at compliments, and you appreciated every chance there was to step on the stage and perch the four-stringed instrument on your shoulder.

Then came the day when you met your competitor for the very first time, performing at a gala held for a local lord. He'd looked at you, no doubt recognising you based on the gossip circulating around, and raised an eyebrow in teasing recognition before shaking his head and simply turning away. No formalities were exchanged, even though you were fully intending to be civil.

From then on, you both maintained a stoic but unspoken rivalry, making sniping remarks when you had the misfortune of meeting. Yet, years after it all started, here he was, standing in front of you, on a stage you would soon share.

And as luck would have it, a courtier walked over. Park, you remembered his last name with some effort. He had been the first to object when the court invited you to play at this ball. The papers had published his account of why you shouldn't be involved (boringly long, you thought).

"My, my, if it isn't the two legends of our time," He drawled, in a voice that grated on your nerves. "I must say, having you both on the same stage is rather...shocking."

Junhui raises his brows. "And what prompted that belief?"

"Oh, but doesn't everyone know of your rivalry, sir! Years upon years of competition of talent."

You let out a light laugh, leaning forward to the smug courtier to jest. "And which of us would you prefer, sir?"

His smirk is nothing short of hateful, you decide, when he replies, "Captivating as your music is, my charming lady, I find Sir Wen Junhui's music simply...breathtaking. Perhaps a fine man, bestowing his heavenly talents upon us all, is much welcomed now."

Junhui's smirk is even more hateful, you determine when he walks past you, Courtier Park in tow, his hand raising to pat your shoulder, which you brush off roughly, saying under his breath, "Better luck next time. Looks like you won't be playing in his court any time soon."

"Rot in hell."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Oh, how wonderful that you both will be sharing the stage this time!" The Duchess claps her hand in appreciation after each of you plays excerpts of your performance pieces.

"It's an honour," Junhui replies, bowing low. You curtsey, noting the way the Duke nods at Courtier Park after.

"Refresh yourselves," The Duke instructs. "We will see you at the celebrations. We're looking forward to both of your performances."

You can't bring yourself to look interested when Junhui turns to you. "As am I." The smug, arrogant twinkle in his eyes does not go amiss.

You curtsey once more and at the couple's nods, stride out of the room, Junhui behind you.

"The Divertimento No.17 by Mozart," He muses. "A fitting choice. You always liked the cheer."

"And you could only dream of appreciating them."

"Snippy as ever, treasure," Junhui answers patronisingly, as easy as counting.

"Yes, well, you are no different from the last time we met," You reply coldly, turning a corner. "Stop following me."

"Our rooms are nearby, treasure," He drawls, leaning against the wall. "Remind me again why you're being so delightful?"

"Why, huh," You sneer back, turning to face him. "Where to start? Why are you even here?"

"Why am I here?" He echoes. "My dear, I was invited. As were you. Through our wonderful years of being around each other, you would know I dislike performing for the royals. I agreed because I owed His Grace a favour."

"Of course you did," You mutter. "Well, I'll get going. Go find your next person to terrorise, you take joy in that anyway."

His chuckles go on as you walk off, the skirts of your dress fanning out behind you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

Notes, one after another, flow like water out of his bow, in rapid semiquavers and strong crotchets, chords easing through the strings as easy as the alphabet.

You can't deny Wen Junhui is a phenomenal performer.

It's two waltzes before your piece comes up, and the guests of the ball are mingling, filling in dance cards, getting to know one another. You see a few familiar faces, ladies of society whom you'd seen on other occasions. The Duke and the Duchess took the dance floor earlier, and are now nursing glasses of carefully brewed liquor, laughing and entertaining.

The head of the estate's entertainment announces your appearance, and you step up in front of the orchestra. At your cue, the piano launches into the familiar cheerful chord.

And off you go from there. You laser-focus yourself on every note, the vibrato you'd honed to perfection. And thankfully, all goes without a hitch, leading to resounding applause as people break away from their dance partners.

The Duchess bustles to you after you bow and get down. "My dear, that was magical."

"Oh," You smile at her gushing compliment. "Thank you. I enjoyed myself."

"And so you should," The Duke encourages, walking up next to his wife. "What a stunning job you've done."

The Duchess hums in agreement before exclaiming. "Right! I was coming to say, the governors want you and Sir Wen Junhui to dance together."

You stiffen. "I'm sorry?"

“As a sign of goodwill,” The Duke says. “Not very customary, given that you have no real ties to each other, but we think it would be nice. Not to mention, you both ought to loosen up and enjoy yourselves tonight. Do you not agree?”

You’re about to politely decline, but an arm slides around your arm and tugs you closer. Just a little. “Of course we do. Thank you for the offer, Your Grace.” Junhui nods at the beaming couple.

The Duchess smiles at you as her husband nods, satisfied and ready to help her to the dance floor again. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“I—”

“Hush,” Junhui croons as he sweeps you into his arms and across the floor in an elegant turn, the beginning notes of another popular waltz playing out. “We are meant to revel. Look at the atmosphere we’ve created. We ought to enjoy the fruition of our work, no?”

“Shut up.”

He smirks slightly at you. “As you please. You’re not a bad dancer, I see.”

You curse silently. In the distraction of the banter, your feet had automatically stepped alongside his, rhythmically and physically attuned as one — one body and one being.

Heavens, you hated it.

“Fall silent at praises?” He raises his brows.

You snort. “Why should I if it comes from you?”

He gasps in mock hurt. “You wound me, truly.”

“Oh, forgive me,” You simper, a sweet smile on your face. “Whatever should I do with that information?”

And back and forth it went again, till the last cadenza played. His confident and suave digs, your sarcastic and impatient snipes.

He lets go of you as the crowd starts mingling again, and smiles. “It was a pleasure. We’ll meet again.”

He presses a kiss to the back of your palm, winks and disappears into the throng, leaving you looking appalled at your hand.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1871, January 17th

“You want me to what?”

“Keep your voice down,” Your father urges.

“Oh, forgive me for being surprised that you’re marrying me off.”

“Daughter,” He says sternly, putting down his paper. “It’s Merchant Park’s son. A finely educated, young man. You will not do any worse with him. At the very least, it would make you seem more like the desired lady you are.”

“And what of my music?” You demand. “I have to put a stop to my dreams? On your order?”

“Dear,” Your mother cautions, then addresses your father. “Husband, we should tell her the truth. The deal is signed, anyway.”

Deal. You’re being sent to some stranger over a deal.

“We are not doing well, you know this,” Your father explains.

“I have told you, the commissions I get from the Lords and the palace—”

Your father holds up his hand. “Let me finish.”

“We need help to keep our estate and our rights,” He continues. “Merchant Park has very kindly provided a deal for us: a monetary exchange in return for a bride. As Mr. Nathaniel Park has proved himself a true man, we saw no reason to turn down such a win-win offer: a groom for our daughter and enough to sustain us.”

You clench your fists. “And you didn’t think to ask my opinion on all this? When I am the one to marry?”

Your father eyes you. “Daughter, things in other households are far worse. Some do not even know until the night before the matrimony. You might consider yourself lucky.”

You look to your mother, but she trains her eyes on her tea and doesn’t reply.

A painful lump forms in your throat. “Is there no other way?”

Your father shakes his head. “Not one as beneficial as this.”

“And will it ensure prosperity and stability for the rest of your days?”

He nods. “We will do much better than before.”

You blow out a resigned breath. “When will it be?”

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1871, March 1st

Church bells ring, shouts are heard.

You marry Mr Nathaniel Park in the nearest church to his estate. It has been the talk of the town, and throngs have turned up to see a wealthy merchant's son marry a talent of the nation.

Everyone, except for your families, seem to be under the impression that you had been seeing each other in secret for years, and had finally emerged to take the next step.

It’s all nonsense, every last detail, but the very same nonsense made it to the papers by next morning.

You leave your family home that night to start your life with Nathaniel.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, June 28th

You were bored out of your mind.

Your violin was locked up goodness knows where, and Nathaniel had explicitly said he had no intention of letting you return to the stage as a career.

It had killed you a little inside, but it was to little surprise. Men like Nathaniel and his equally unbearable father were common. And you had fully expected to be controlled and restricted in return for your family’s benefit.

Except you had severely underestimated how much time the violin occupied. With nothing to do and only so much overseeing of the estate you could do, you were about to go insane.

Worse, Nathaniel had been in a dark mood as people in the streets had started gossiping.

Because while Wen Junhui had continued to travel far and wide to showcase his talents, his rival (yes, you) had suddenly stopped doing the same — so suddenly that it was downright suspicious.

And your temporary reprieve came when an invite for a local lord’s ball came by the estate. In it, it urged for both your attendance and a a suggestion for you to perform. It seemed like a good chance for Nathaniel to turn the tide and assure society that you were still fulfilling your dream, and to quell any rumours.

Your fingers were rusty, so it was to your shock when Nathaniel allowed you to play and practice for a couple of hours.

“For the ball,” He warned. “Only for the ball. I cannot have people speculating why my wife has suddenly stopped performing publicly.”

It was better than nothing, you surmise.

And so it is to your greatest pride that you stand once again on the stage, performing a sonata you’d long since learnt by heart, the guests clapping and in awe.

And after you get off the stage, you use the start of yet another dance to allow yourself to be whisked away by your husband. But your impatience returns once you see who your dance partner is.

“I thought I’d come keep you company since it has been a while,” Wen Junhui smiles lazily at you as he captures your hand in his. “Congratulations are in order, I see.”

You shrug.

“Funny how the papers said you’d been seeing each other for a long while. A secret dalliance, did that paperboy say? Wonder where that came from.”

"Be quiet."

He does not, in fact, keep quiet.

“Dashing man,” He nods towards your husband, who is doing an awful job of hiding his scowl at you dancing with another. “Tell him to loosen up and smile a little. After all, his wife is the star of tonight.”

“Shut up.”

“Not proud of your matrimony?” He has a saccharine tone which you decide you really hate.

“You know nothing.”

“Huh.” His grin drops, no longer pleasant, as you take another turn around the floor, falling perfectly into place with other dancers. “Someone is snippy today.”

“Would you please stop?” You demand hotly. It’s not as if you would admit right this second that this marriage was what you want. “If you have nothing genuinely good to say, why don’t you—”

"Oh, so you want me to be quiet, huh?"

His eyes are now suddenly simmering with both mild anger and something else, perhaps impatience. With that same burning expression on his face, he grips your hand and hauls you toward him.

The abrupt and rough action makes you release a squeak of surprise, and his other hand catches your head in time to adjust it on his chest.

You struggle. "We are in public! Unhand me this instant!"

"I told you, be quiet."

"What?!"

"Be quiet and listen," He demands, pressing your head to his chest, using the throng of dancers and people to hide you from Nathaniel. "Listen and tell me what you hear."

You scowl up at him. "Is this a joke?"

"What do you hear?"

"Your heartbeat, like a normal living person?" You snarl. "What more is there?"

"Listen again."

After a brief pause, you ask him, "Why is it racing?"

He glares at you. "Exactly."

"What do you mean, exactly? That was not even my questi-"

"My God, use your brain for once," He sighs impatiently. "If I truly hated you, would I have picked you as my dance partner? Would I have offered you my company and my well-wishes? Would I, Y/N?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"Forget it," he snarls, biting his lip in impatience. "Go and be with your husband. Last I heard, he was looking for your whereabouts." He strides away, leaving you stunned.

And even as Nathaniel meets you and berates you for leaving his side, and as you get back into the homebound carriage with him, your mind stays only on Junhui.

If I truly hated you, would I have picked you as my duet partner?Would I have offered you my company and my well-wishes?

Would I, Y/N?

You lean your head on the back of the carriage, the lights of the city wide awake, even with the lateness of the hour, your mind whirling with thoughts you didn't know were true.

His racing heartbeat, your racing mind. He didn't hate you. The real question now was... did you hate him? Still?

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 4th

It's a rainy afternoon when everything falls apart. Nathaniel is in a horrible mood, and you're about to lose your mind.

No music, since he took it away from you once you got home. No money to seek any kind of entertainment, since he's in charge of the estate's finances. You can't even go out on a ride, since he's ordered the footmen to keep you within the property.

“What’s going on between you and Mr. Wen?” You look up at his seething question as he strides in and throws the morning paper down on the table in front of you. “It has been months and columns are still writing about you two!”

“What am I supposed to do, tell the writers to stop?” You ask drily, and a sudden strong fist grabs your arm and a blunt impact is unceremoniously struck to your face.

You freeze, blood running cold.

Nathaniel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest that he just hit his wife.

He grunts in displeasure. “Heavens, I’ll have to explain these articles to our family again.” He makes a tutting sound at you and strides out of the room, massaging his hand and rotating his wrist.

Amidst everything, the painful swell of your cheek and arm, the humiliation you feel, and the anger that courses through you, you can only think of one thing.

One person.

And so Junhui has the shock of his life when you turn up, panting and soaked in the downpour, at the gates of his estate. Your fine gown is as good as ruined, your updo plastered over your face. Your makeup is running, and Junhui wastes no time pulling you indoors.

"I didn't know where else to go," You murmur, strength sapped, and he says nothing, only signals to his servants to get towels and new clothes.

As he surveys you, his eyes widen in disgust and shock, and he takes your shoulders in his warm and gentle grip. "Was this him? Sir Park's son?"

At your unsettling silence, he repeats his question, more firmly this time. "Did he do this to you?"

For the first time in maybe your life, you meet his eyes fully. There is anger in his eyes, so raw and so deep, that you feel your eyes start burning again.

As you bow your head to blink the tears away, he lifts your chin to meet his eyes once more. "You have never shied away from me. Of all times, my treasure, I would beg you not to hide now."

You stay silent, and he repeats his question, each word more strained than the last.

You nod imperceptibly, confirming his worst fears.

"God," He groans, leaning forward to hold your hands in his large ones. "If I were a swordsman and not a musician, he would be gutted like a fish."

You try to crack a smile, but it just doesn't come out right. "You're not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be," He returns. "But whilst we are on this subject, perhaps my bow could do the job. It's sharp enough."

That finally coaxes a small, broken smile out of you, and his shoulders release slightly at the sight.

His servants return with the requested items, and after pushing you into a room with an adjoining chamber to dry off and get changed, he sits you down as he tends to you. Still shaken, you just let him, and you watch silently as he presses a small makeshift ice pack to your face, made of soft towels and crushed ice meant for drinks.

Occasionally, he brushes a hand through your hair to detangle it and let it dry. It's so... domestic, painfully so, and you're fully aware of how hard your heart is pounding.

"I hate you," His voice suddenly comes through, and you look up as they register. "I hate you so much, you know that?"

Your voice is hoarse as you reply. "I know. I know it all."

"I hate that you're here, in my estate. I detest the sight of you. I hate that we're here, only being civil under circumstances like these, and I loathe beyond comprehension that he did this to you. I hate it so much, but I despise you the most for not coming to my door the second it happened."

Your eyes sting again with tears, and he reaches up to wipe at them, his eyes the most tender you've ever seen.

"Do not shed tears for a man so undeserving," He murmurs. "It is unbecoming, you know."

"I know," You choke. "I didn't want to."

"Forget about him." His voice resounds like thunder. "You should not remain with a monster like him for your family. You are your own person, and your fate is in your hands."

He turns his attention back to the bruise on your arm, tending to it with the same gentleness and precision a tinker had with music boxes.

He called for medicine, clothed and fed you, only to hear you confess three hours later. "I must return before dawn. He will be seeking me out, and I can't have him come to your estate and make trouble."

"No." His firm refusal shot a pang into your heart.

"Junhui. I must."

"You will not return to that hellhole. It's my order."

"I have to, my family-"

"Would want their daughter to be whole and hale." His voice is deep and fierce, so much angrier than you've ever heard.

"I would not see you ruin yourself for a godforsaken life with him. If he can hit you once, and to this extent," he motions to you, "He will do it again and again. Each time even harder than the last. You will die at his hands!"

"The deal-"

"The money is the last thing on my mind!" He exclaims, now agitated. "I do not care about the riches or the deal your family has made with anyone. I just want you to be safe. I want you to be happy. Are you happy, locked up in a great lonely house with him, giving up on the art you have honed all your life, becoming his puppet and a shell of what you once were, only to be hit as if you are worth nothing?"

You shake your head, as if trying to shake off his words. "I know, you're right, Junhui, god! You are right about it all. But my family... they are everything to me. I worked all this time just so I could go home to them someday and live our days out in comfort. I...I cannot forsake them now. Not when they will be thrown into the streets and shamed if they do not honour the contract."

"Then stay here with me," He pleads. "I will handle all of it. I'll make sure no one gets hurt. You can perform and do everything to your heart's desire and I will never hold you back. Please."

"I cannot burden you with my issues!" You shout, choking back a poorly concealed sob, hands reaching to your hair to tug on it in frustration. "Please, Junhui, please, just... let me be. Live your life and let me live mine."

"You chose to come here tonight. Yet now you ask me to stay out this. How can I, if you're making a choice that may very well get you killed?!"

"I will not. You know that. I'm strong enough to handle it."

"Do you even know what you are handling?" He demands hotly. "A violent barbarian who knows only use his fists against a blameless lady and her family -- do you have any idea how horrendous that sounds?!"

You take a deep breath. "I-"

"I will open my gates to you and your family. I will give you my home, my sanctuary and protection, anything you will ever need. But in return, all I ask is that you leave that place. Leave someone who will never care for you the way you should be cared for."

"I can't, I can't. The world is in my way, his family-- they would never view me or respect me the way I want. Not as a musician who worked her way to the top. They will see me as a mere town-girl who seduced him for money and ran off with it. Everything I've done to make sure people never see me that way-- I can't handle that."

"And so you pick them, their satisfaction and influence, over your own fate?" He asks incredulously. "That strong, stubborn, steadfast woman I know -- where is she?"

"I am not picking. It is my only option! You have seen how the governors and men of the court see me, even as a musician in comparison to you. I would suffer that tenfold, and worse, my family will go the same path. I would rather die than allow it to happen, even if I must suffer."

The whole room goes silent, save for your breathing and his ragged pants.

His nose flares and his eyes narrow. His voice turns colder than the cruel winters of the land. "Is that what you truly mean?"

"..Yes. Yes."

After what seems like an eternity, he nods, so slightly you almost don't catch it. His lips curl, whether in disgust or mock of your decision, you do not know. He looks the most disappointed you've ever seen him. "Fine. Then let him destroy you. Let the people who do not matter, do not care about you tear you to shreds. Perhaps you were right, and I was the one meddling too much. I apologise." He starts walking away.

"Junhui-" You begin as you clutch his arm, dread running down your spine, but he simply looks at your hands wrapped around his with the indifference you thought was all he had. He looks at your pleading eyes, your shaking posture. He wants nothing more than to tell you how he feels, the immense frustration that you just won't let him be there for you... but through his raging emotions, his mouth stays shut.

"You can leave as you want," He says, all the emotion from prior gone. He finally looks you in the eye, his own betraying only the smallest hint of anguish and something you can't quite place. "I will not hold you back if that's what you desire. I just hope you will be happy with your decision, Y/N."

And then he's gone, leaving you to sink down in the middle of the room and cry into your hands, the finery of the gown he clothed you in now a mess around you.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 5th

"You have returned."

Not quite a question, but you nod to your husband, who is currently lounging on a newly embroidered couch, eyeing you up and down with something close to disdain in his eyes.

"Costume yourself. Conceal everything well. There is another ball tonight in honour of a newly debuted painter, and we must attend."

Fantastic. Yet another function where you would be on his arm, hang on to his every word, pretend to love him. "Must-"

Nathaniel raises his hand and you flinch. He lowers it, head tilting. "You heard me."

You head up to your chambers in silence.

Your tears flow as you dress yourself as instructed, every puff of makeup lowered to your face doing a terrible job of hiding the marks on your face, the exhausted swell of your eyes.

Fine. Then let him destroy you, Junhui had said bitterly.

He probably already had, you thought. In ways no one would ever see.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"Sir Park!" Court ladies and gentlemen alike hailed your husband as he helped you out of the carriage, painting the picture of a perfect husband. You see your mother, dressed in finery, looking awkward and uncomfortable with the current company. You start excusing yourself to walk to her, but Nathaniel holds you to him, glaring down at you with a fake grin plastered on his face. "What are you doing?" He hisses furiously under his breath.

"I am going to see my mother," You hiss back through gritted teeth, venom in your voice, a sweet smile fixed on your face as if you were exchanging an intimate secret. "Or would you prefer I scream for help, darling?"

He releases you immediately. "Be back swiftly. People will wonder of your whereabouts."

Without responding, you make your way through the crowd, smiling and bowing slightly to the upperclassmen who greet you. When you reach your mother, she visibly relaxes, reaching out to clasp your hand.

"My dear girl," She says, trying to smile. "You seem to have lost weight. Are you well?"

"Very, Mother," You reply, through a fake smile.

Concern shines in her eyes, and she tries to continue. "Daughter. Don't make the same mistakes I did, trying to keep defying your father. There are times where we must step back, and you might find that... life gets easier. The frustration will ease."

Would the frustration and pain of your marriage really fade? Would you, like Junhui insisted, be reduced to a hollow shell, numbed to everything and allow yourself to be treated like an unloved rag doll? Would you, after everything you did to make a woman out of yourself... become a meek and obedient arm candy, the one thing you never wanted to be?

As you pull away from your mother with a quiet excuse, you hear pleasantries being called to a new guest, and you turn to find Junhui, who clearly just entered the ballroom, staring directly at you.

You're not sure if your eyes look imploring enough, but it doesn't seem to work. Junhui turns away, and for the rest of the evening, you do not catch his eye.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 21st

Days pass and you still play the perfect wife.

The order is exactly the same. You attend balls, play one or two customary pieces for Nathaniel to receive the oohs and ahhs of your talent, and at the end of the night, you return to your great, lonely house and sleep alone.

Soon after you got home from the ball, Nathaniel received an invitation to a business conference with the lords of Sicily. He had, after careful deliberation, decided to bring you.

Fine, you think. At least with the business, he might be too busy to keep you in line all day.

Nathaniel hasn't hit you since that night, but you're constantly on tenterhooks, on edge that his anger might blow once more. It's a ticking time bomb at home, and not much better outside. It isn't as if you have anyone to lament to about your marital troubles.

Your impatience is getting worse day by day. You already know the deal could easily be nullified, with the riches you know your family has received, but your parents still have no intention of setting you free. And so, on a warm Tuesday afternoon, three springtimes after it all started, you make your decision, rash and unchecked.

"I want to leave."

"What?"

"I cannot live like this. Not as your trophy wife. I wasn't born for this."

"And where will you go?" Nathaniel sneers. "Who will have you, a once-married woman?"

"It matters not where I go," You shoot, "You have no business knowing. As long as I am away from you, you asshole!"

"Oh, I would be very entertained," He replies coldly, a mocking smile set upon his hateful face. "I would like to know which man would take in the likes of you, even if you go to Sicily and start anew. Or maybe Sir Wen Junhui has already defiled-"

You slap him hard. He clutches his cheeks, turning red from the impact and from his rage. "You dirty little rat-"

"You are the vermin that thinks that way," You seethe. "You are the problem here. Not me, not Junhui, not my family. This isn't about the deal we made with your father anymore. It is purely because I am a woman that you are behaving this way. If anything is being defiled here, it is my dignity and your reputation."

He scoffs. "And you really believe some good Samaritan will voluntarily take you in and give you a bright future? Even if you believe so, you will end up the same way, in their kitchens, whether in Sicily or anywhere in the world. I am doing you a favour."

He steps closer. "But perhaps you already have someone in mind? ...Sir Wen Junhui, perhaps?"

You narrow your eyes at him. "What's this got to do with him?"

"Oh, you don't fool me," He laughs humourlessly. "You think I never see the way his eyes move to you when you're in the same room? You think I don't notice how you glance at him? And those few moments at the painter's ball last month. Care to explain that, my dear wife?"

"We are not on good terms." You hiss, stepping up to him. "Shame on you that you think otherwise, because there is nothing going on. I am no cheating liar."

"Perhaps not," He muses. "But I would pay good money to see what he thinks of you."

You stand your ground. "I want a divorce. That's all I want. I can return all the money you want to you in due course. Just set me free."

"Let's see what the courts think of that," He challenges, and you clench your teeth, anger overriding you like never before. "Your whole family will crash and burn with you. All because of your erroneous ways."

You stride away from him, out the estate doors, and his condescending, bitter voice resounds in your head, eyes wide in the face of your rebellion. "You don't know men the way you think you do, Y/N. Mark my words. Wen Junhui will not take you in no matter what he says. Women only have one fate, and you sealed it the moment we married."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

Junhui opens the door and swears it's deja vu.

Mere weeks ago he did the same thing, only for you to break his heart in a span of a few hours. He surmises that it must be the same situation tonight.

Nevertheless, he opens the door to your panting figure wordlessly and lets you enter. You look sheepish as you adjust your gown, body heaving with the effort it took to run here, but he does nothing.

No, if he gave in and comforted you, he did not think he could risk another heartbreak.

You beat him to it. "I'm sorry I came," You start hesitantly. He stays silent, so you continue.

"Nathaniel, he-"

"Forgive me, but I do not wish to hear details of your marriage. You said it yourself, your life is not my concern." He knows he is being petty, but this was the only way he knew he would not overstep.

"It-"

"What more do you have to say to me?"

You open your mouth to reply, but the bell of his estate rings and you glance at him, petrified. You mouth the words as if the visitor would hear, Nathaniel? His jaw clenches instinctively.

He quickly ushers you into another room, a safe distance from the sitting room where they would still be in earshot. "Stay put," He warns.

He leaves for the main door, and you can hear him exchanging greetings with a man's voice, all too familiar.

It is Nathaniel. You expected it.

"Please, sit. Can I offer you a drink?"

"No need for formality. I am not here as Sir Park's son, but as Y/N's husband."

"...I see. Well, what can I do for you?"

"We are both gentlemen, Sir Wen," You hear your husband say. "Let us get right to the point. You harbour illicit feelings for my wife, do you not?"

"...I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Junhui's voice has turned cold. Nathaniel should be afraid, but he looks Junhui squarely in the eye.

"I told her this and I'll tell you too, Sir Wen," Your husband's voice is careless, as if he doesn't care what he's saying. "She is mine. And I have rules about the women in my life. They will not look at other men. Their life will change to suit mine. And if anyone tries to defy that, defy me, I will tear them down. You, my dear musician, are no exception."

The room goes silent for a moment. "Well, I am glad we straightened this out." You can practically feel Nathaniel smiling, smug in his arrogance. "Y/N will be heading to Sicily soon, and I must ready our travel plans. Goodness, what a world we live in!"

His footsteps scuff the ground as he gets up, then stop. "This was a nice meeting, but the next time we chat about this, I will not be as friendly." You hear his chair creak. "Well, as you were. Good evening."

"You do not deserve any part of Y/N." Junhui mutters.

"...I'm sorry?"

"I said, you do not deserve her." Junhui repeats, each word firmer than the last. "If you knew her at all, those vile, vulgar words should never have left you. Had you not wed her just for her talent and face value, you would have seen her for who she is -- a strong, talented, and truly selfless woman. She gave up her music, her lifeline, to marry a man she barely knows just for her family's sake. If you ever bothered to observe her beyond your conceited and overbearing ego, you would have found bliss with her by your side."

"...I knew coming to an agreement so quickly was suspicious." YOur husband laughs, slightly cruelly. "And you would know all that of my wife, because?"

"I do not know her as well as I'd like, but I know better than to let go of such a precious being." Junhui's words do not cease, each one hitting home hard. "The innate truth is, neither you nor I deserve her. I will not lie that she showed up at my estate the night you laid your filthy hands on her, and nothing has ever made me angrier. So I swear, from now on, not a single hand will land upon her, or be damned this nation and its money, I will make it my life's duty to ensure you never again see the light of day."

Nathaniel chuckles, as if Junhui's words are but a gust of wind, as insignificant as one raindrop in a thunderstorm. You cannot stay and hear any more of this. So you creep towards the nearest window, ajar to let air in. As you crawl out, careful not to hook the hem of your gown on the hinges, and flee for the back gate, you hear your husband croon. "There must be more than meets the eye, Mr Wen. Although, I hope you know where you stand. Y/N will never belong to you."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 24th

"Thank you for coming, Mother," You try to smile at her, as she sits across you.

"You have never invited me over before," She says brightly. "What did you seek me out for?"

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay..." She comments, putting her teacup down. "Go on."

"I wish to leave Nathaniel."

"What?" Your mother is beyond alarmed, sitting forward and furrowing her brows. "Daughter, you know--"

"He hits me," You blurt out, and her eyes widen. Perhaps not the most graceful or discreet way to expose your suffering, but to you, there was no nice way to say it, no matter how much it hurt.

"He-- Y/N--"

"And someone else came and saved me. In so many ways, even the ways I did not know I could be saved.”

"Wh-" Your mother looks truly befuddled, and in any other situation, you might have laughed at the astounded look on her face.

"Wen Junhui." You continue blabbering. "He has seen me for who I am, at my best and at my worst, and he... he has healed me. He told me the truth that no one bothered to say, and he taught me that... that my fate is my own. Mother... I do not think I can live by the words of others. I think... I think that would make me miserable beyond belief."

Your mother is silent for what seems like an eternity, and you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

She finally opens her mouth to speak, and your breath catches.

“Of all people,” She murmurs, before giving you a soft smile. “I never would have thought that Mr. Wen would be the one to catch your eye.”

You shake your head in fond exasperation. “Life works in mysterious ways.”

“No.” She disagrees. “It has its own wiles and ways, but everything… everything happens for a reason. We were foolish to try forcing your happiness, weren’t we?”

You shake your head again. “I know you want the best for me.”

“I do, and I am glad you trust that, Daughter,” Your mother says softly, and you look at her, the gentleness of it all making your eyes glass over. “And if the best for you can be found in Mr. Wen…”

She dabs at her eyes carefully to prevent the kohl from running, and shoots a smile at you, genuine and loving. “Who are we to disagree?”

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1874, September 27th

"You'll need more coats. Those dresses of yours are so overbearing." Nathaniel comments as your maids fold both of your clothes into trunks.

You grit your teeth but say nothing, as you pick out your jewellery.

"And this," He holds up another gown, one of your personal favourites, a sweet baby-blue confection with small gems sewed meticulously within. "Outrageous. Have it burned, my wife will not be seen in things as skimpy as th-"

"Shut up!" You can't recognise your shout. "Just keep your mouth shut for a moment, won't you?"

He advances upon your retort, eyes glittering. "What did you just say to me?"

"I will not go to Sicily with you." You say resolutely.

He starers at you for a moment, then bursts into laughter. "You? Turning Sicily down? How amusing."

"I'll never go anywhere with you." You snap, backing away. The maids hesitantly put down their work, then proceed to leave the room, leaving just the two of you.

"Don't be ridiculous, wife," Nathaniel says condescendingly. "Sicily would be good for us to start over. Too many nuisances here."

As he laughs and returns to selecting clothes, you scoff. "You're one to talk. You ruined my life, you took everything dear to me away."

He throws down the possessions, a loud shout bouncing off the walls. "Understand one thing. You are nothing, you understand? I could crush you and all that you have under my boot all in a day's work."

You push back, enraged. "Don't you project your emotions and problems on me. Junhui was right. You don't know any part of me. Not what I love, you're nothing that any sane person wants or needs. You're human vitriol."

"Junhui, Junhui, Junhui," Nathaniel sneers. "So you do know he's in love with you. Why else would you allow him to poison your mind? That pest--"

You punch him in the mouth.

You punch your husband, a rich and influential merchant's son, square in the mouth.

Now, you're not a strong woman, and in any fight, you'd be knocked out like a light. But given that Nathaniel did not expect any form of violence or pushback from you, when he was so close to taking you to Sicily permanently, he stumbles back in surprise and clutches his jaw.

Taking advantage of his confusion, you run.

You run and run and run, to the stables, upon a mare, and urge it out towards Junhui's estate.

So you do know he's in love with you.

This was the only time you wanted -- yearned -- to believe Nathaniel Park.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"You must think my home is a vacant shelter," Junhui comments as he lets you in.

He stiffens when you say nothing. "What is going-"

"Junhui." You lock eyes with him, firm and headstrong. "Are you in love with me?"

He stops moving entirely for five moments before chuckling. It sounds so artificial.

"No, that idea is repulsive."

"Junhui-"

"No."

"Junhui." You take his hands and plead. "Tell me the truth, and only the truth. Is it true, that you are in love with me?"

He tries swatting your hands away. "Please stop. Leave."

"I will the second you tell me that you are not in love with me. I will disappear from your sight for the rest of my life, I will leave for Sicily without looking back, and I will never return. Just answer me, just this once. Are you in love with me?"

His resistance snaps as he whirls to you.

"I've been crazy for you the moment I laid eyes on you!" He chokes out, eyes burning with emotion, hands flying to wipe furiously at them. "I couldn't fathom the thought that you hated me from the moment you saw me, goodness knows why, but I figured -- if that was the only way I'd see you for who you were, wild and free and beautiful, instead of the other ladies in court who put up facades to be around me -- I'd take it all. Whatever you gave me, I'd take and play along."

He swallows before he continues. "And yet it wasn't enough. Competing on and off the stage with you. I was in Rome when I received word of your union with that...that monster. I hated myself then. I regretted immensely that I had not asked for your hand before someone else did. I must have been complacent that you would always be around."

"Y-You...you never sought me out." You say softly, stunned at the revelation.

"It was a marriage between a renowned merchant's son and the world's best violinist, celebrated by all... I could not compare. Love would not cut it. Love would never cut it."

You could not help but cup his face, wiping the tears that leaked from his earnest eyes. "I truly believed you would find happiness with that man, treasure. I genuinely wished you well, even if it broke me." He whispers.

"And then you turned up at my gates, with bruises on you and a horrific story to tell," He continues, clenching your hands in his, "Yet I had to watch you, and let you return to that son of a bitch of your own will just so your family could live in peace!"

His body, now racked in sobs, crumples to the ground, bringing you with him as you cradle his head, tears of your own now dripping down your face. "Here you are now, one step away from moving to Sicily as you dreamed, asking me if I am in love with you? My beloved, is that really a question, or simply a confirmation?"

He looks up at you, eyes rimmed in red. "I cannot burden you with my emotions now. Not when you're achieving your dreams. Not when you and yours are suffering under the world's scrutiny. I love you so deeply that I know I cannot do that. If I cave into my emotions... you will be shackled to me, and I cannot have that on my account."

"No." You interrupt. His eyes raise to meet yours, as if in disbelief at what he was hearing.

"I plan to leave Nathaniel. All future plans are gone, and we will not be going to Sicily."

His eyes dilate in shock. The world goes silent, and it's just the two of you.

"I...I spoke to my mother. Way before today. About what you said. A lot of it was what you said." Your voice sounds foreign, so strange to your own ears. "I told her that I would settle the deal and anything we owe in any other way that would not require my happiness as a trade. I told her...I could not bear to let people who did not care if I lived or died dictate how I spend my days. I showed her the wounds he gave me. And I told her how you healed them."

He could not speak, could not move. The fact that you had decided to show your suffering to the one person you did it all for... he did not know whether to praise or cry at your bravery. That you, terrified yet adamant, had made a choice that would finally change the trajectory of your life.

You take a deep breath. Clasp his shaking hands in yours as you find your next sentence.

"You know this. The current divorce bill has always favoured men. In this age, no matter how big I am, no matter how much proof of how awful he is, society will only ever choose him over me. I have every intention to leave that monster, but it will be a tedious, arduous task, and I cannot promise anything out of it -- but what I can promise is that if you want me, you have me. Wholeheartedly, even if hell bestows its wrath upon us, my heart will always be yours. It..."

He waits with bated breath for your next words, his grip on your hand just as unwavering as your will.

"It must have been yours from the moment you pushed me to leave. You were the only one who saw me as anything more than a trophy wife, even with everything I threw your way. I only realised too late... that what I need isn't someone who would speak behind my back, or only support me from the sidelines."

His hands reached up to your face, trembling, cold, so full of emotion he felt like he would combust.

"I need someone like you to stand with me. I need you, Junhui."

It was all he ever wanted to hear. For the longest time, ever since he could remember. Just the thought that you might want him, competitor and all, shakes him to the core.

He grabs you and pulls you to him, hands gripping your waist. Tears form once more in his eyes as he shuts them and presses his mouth firmly to yours, and you can taste the salty tang of them on your tongue as you wrap your hands around his shoulders and tug him towards you. He smothers any remaining space between you -- not that there was much at all -- and wraps his arms wholly around you.

You both enjoy how you mold into each other so, so perfectly -- like a major scale, like a perfect chord, like the coda of your favourite orchestral symphony. One kiss against the next, the tune of your heart swelling into a brilliant crescendo.

You stay like that, lost in the throes of passion, heads tilting to accommodate each other, and when he finally pulls away, leaving you breathless as you meet his eyes, his expression changes into one of such deep love and joy, tears spring into your eyes again.

He draws you into a warm embrace, stroking the back of your head as you find solace in his arms. "Do not weep, treasure. I need you to stay with me, because after all these years of butting heads with each other, you are finally mine."

And as the darkness of the night descends upon the land, neither of you make any move to let go, because Junhui was right.

After all this time, of fighting and being at odds, you were where you really belonged.

With the man whose career you once swore to end, yet the only person who managed to play his way into your heartstrings.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

"And you must still leave, because?" Junhui is frowning, evident even with his head down, playing with your fingers. You look at him longingly.

"To finish what I have started, Junhui," You murmur, looking at him. "There is to be a court hearing, and only then will I know if I can leave him."

He only frowns further. "And you will be going alone?"

"My mother will be coming with me. I would need support."

His expression does not relax as you hoped, as he continues, "I presume I cannot go?"

"The court would be even less in my favour if you were to show up. Imagine the scandal it would cause!" You reply, chuckling as you fiddle with the silk material on his waistcoat, soft and fluffy against your rough fingers. "Why? Can't get enough of me already?"

"Shut up," He replies instantly, voice bitter. "If you had just married me before and not bothered with him, you could've avoided all of this."

"It was arranged, you idiot! And I wonder, who was the one who didn't ask for my hand and pined about it on his own?"

"I did not pine!" He defends immediately. "I could have you thrown out for such slander, you know."

"You keep telling yourself that, Junhui," You reply, smiling slightly. "How was I to know you wanted to marry me from the start?"

"You had your head up in your ass, trying to win a competition that didn't exist," He responds without missing a beat, grinning devilishly, and now you were ready to release a string of curses that would make your poor mother weep.

"Listen here, you little-"

He takes your raised fist and holds it easily in his own.

You scowl deeply. "What do you want from me now?"

"I want you to decide for yourself. Go and do what you have to for your own happiness. If you decide you do not want me-"

A slap to his chest leaves him stunned.

"Are you actually lacking in intelligence somewhere up there?" You hum. "You're much more an idiot than I thought."

"What?"

"I spilled all I had in my mind to you, you nincompoop." You mutter. "I want you. I will only want you from here on out. Don't be stupid."

"Do you mean it?"

"That you're stupid? Without a doubt."

"You know what I mean." He holds your gaze. That in itself has you gaping in mock hurt.

"Do you not trust my words in the slightest?" You ask incredulously. "My, what do you think of me?"

He raises his eyebrows. "After the past ten years? You want me to be honest?"

You slap his chest again indignantly and he laughs.

"Junhui," You say, softer than ever before, and he looks back at you, eyes shining. "I mean it all. Down to the last word. Please... believe me."

He'd never heard so much as a request from you, never mind a 'please'.

"I do. Gods... I do. More than anything." He cups your face affectionately, and you melt at the touch. He seems as though he's gearing himself up to say something, and after a few moments, he finally loosens his tongue.

"From now to the end, I will wait. I'll be right here. No matter the number of waltzes and music I must grace this ridiculous society with, you must promise, promise, you will come back for me." He leans into your hold, and the intimacy, the gentleness Nathaniel never once provided, makes you blink back tears.

"I will." You say. No more word play or snarky responses. Your promise hangs between the two of you, strong as the red string of fate shining between your interlinked fingers, bright as the days ahead.

With Junhui by your side.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1875, April 2nd

Resounding applause booms through the concert hall. Junhui takes his final bow as the stage closes. Women were swooning, men applauding the prodigy violinist that finally graced the stage of Jahn's Hall. People waving could be seen wherever Junhui looked.

Show-off, you think to yourself. Yet, your legs betray you, standing up to carry you to the wings of the back-stage.

You handle your gown with ease, your feet carefully navigating through throngs of Junhui's well-wishers, the people manning the operations, all the way to the back where you saw clearly a large crowd forming.

Where the crowd was largest was where Junhui would be.

You pick at the bouquet in your hands in slight hesitation, until a man you recognise from many concert halls catches sight of you and promptly yells, "If it isn't Miss Y/N! Another wonderful musician in our midst! Freshly back from the courts eh?"

You shoot him a small smile and a nod, and he immediately starts elbowing people out of the way. "Out of the way, folks! She must be here for Mr Wen. The rumours are true, so move, fellas!"

Slowly, the crowd dissipates, fading to the sidelines, until Junhui notices the strange crowd movement. He looks up from his conversation with another man, and he freezes in his spot when he sees you.

Heart thumping so loud you can't hear anything else, you raise the bouquet (you searched for the perfect arrangement for almost a week, but you would carry that secret to the grave) and with a smirk on your face, you drawl, "Missed me?"

The crowd bursts into noise, full of clamouring and people shouting. Through it all, you pay them no attention, your focus only on the man in front of you, staring as though he's never seen you before.

Junhui stays stock-still for a few moments. You're starting to think he doesn't want you here.

"I know I did not write to tell you I was returning, but I can explai-"

The greatest violinist of the age strides over to you, captures your face in both his warm hands and kisses you.

You can feel him shaking as he presses himself tightly into your embrace, your foreheads almost touching.

"Seven months," He rasps out, pressing kisses on your mouth between each word. "Seven months and not a word from you. I imagined you'd run off with another man."

"Who else could have infiltrated my mind as you can?" You choke a laugh, reciprocating him with equal fervour. "Day and night, I ached to write to you, but I could not jeopardise my position in the court hearing."

"And what was the outcome?"

"Of what?"

"You know very well what!" He says, drawing away from you but keeping you locked still in his hug. "What of the case?"

You stay silent and his smile fades. "You are frightening me, treasure."

You laugh at that, unable to keep up the facade. "Ruled in my favour. We have signed the separation papers, and I am a free woman."

He shouts out something intelligible, and wraps you up in another bone-crushing hug which you happily return.

"I am glad I kept my promise," You murmur as he sways you around, lost in the joy of you back by his side. You hardly notice the hum of activity as someone ushers the crowd out of the room. "I hate to say this, but it may have been the best decision of my life."

"You say that now, treasure," He teases back before looking at you, puzzled. "What promise? As I recall, you did not write to me at all."

"That I would come back for you," You answer, without missing a beat. "That promise echoed in my head, every single day. When I stood my case, when I went to listen to an orchestra play the first day after learning I'd won. When I hastened my departure and my mother told me to be happy, all I thought of was coming home to you."

He pulls back and looks at you, eyes slightly glassier than they were before, and the brightness in his expression, the love in it, etches itself in your mind permanently.

"And you are home with me now."

"I am."

"You are not leaving me again, treasure. It is an order."

"You sound sappy. Stop that right this second."

"You started it first, darling. Your promise echoed in your head? Really?"

"You're insufferable. I hope you know that."

"Remind me when we marry. You love me anyway."

You sigh, half-helpless and half-fond, and reach up to rake your hands through his hair.

"I do. Gods... I do. More than anything."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

1946, November 11th

"Hang that over there, please. Right at the centrepiece of the fireplace."

"Here, madam?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Treasure, you look at this portrait too many times in a day."

"Be quiet. This was the only good decision you made in our lives."

"You say that now. What of marrying me? Was that not the best thing you did?"

"The worst decision of my life, I can assure you."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I hate you."

"Love you too, treasure."

"..."

"You're smiling."

"I am not!"

"The curve of your lips won't go down. You are not sneaky."

"Shut up. I told you we should go see the classical group before they leave tomorrow."

"Don't distract me. We can look at the picture a little longer. It isn't time to go yet."

"Ah...finally, something good coming out from your mouth."

"The same mouth that kisses y- ow! My face!"

"Not another word!"

"Fine! God, you horrible lady."

"Fine, you wretched man!"

Shaking his head and smiling, the man, much older now, but with the same charming smile and earnest eyes, reaches his arm out to wrap it around his wife, tongue still sharp from their youth, yet still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. She lets him embrace her, even leaning back semi-reluctantly, to his great amusement.

"Look at that," The lady marvels. "Look how wonderful the artwork is, Junhui. Goodness, I still remember the whole day."

"The best day of my life, treasure," The man responds gently. "I'll never forget."

Snug in each other's arms, the couple looks on, at the memory of their younger selves. The time has come and gone, but the days ahead of them are still as bright, the memory of this portrait just as vivid as ever.

The portrait of a beautiful young woman and a tall, dashing young man, sitting together on their wedding day, arms interlinked and smiles forever etched on their faces. Two violins sit next to each of them, and a small plaque attached below the portrait reads:

"Commissioned: Wen Junhui and Y/N L/N, March 7th 1876."

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

author's note:

SURPRISE FIC in the middle of “This Summer”!!

i play the violin, so i was veeerrry excited to write one about music!! especially a period romance?? yes pleaaaasee

thank you for reading! 🎻🤍 feedback is always welcome :”)

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

sorry for being super late to the zhuge liang time-loop party but image we're several iterations in and our boy kongming is sitting in his little mountain hut waiting for liu bei to show up like he always does but this time sun zhou yu turns up instead

oh ho this is a hilarious concept! this is the enemies to enemies timeline we all need. i think it would make more sense for lu su and zhou yu to turn up, because of the simple reason that sun quan is a duke at this point and can't leave the palace for such an extended period of time vs liu bei the one-horse warlord.

ok, the timeline needs to be super fucked up at this stage in order to bring these two togather, because in the alpha timeline even though kongming was fairly well known as a genius hermit, he hasn't done anything so extraordinary at this stage that it warrents a personal visit from the two most powerful people in the southland.

i think we can do this by making him kinda new to the whole timeloop thing, and he accidentally/on purpose reveals some future events in order to get liu bei to find him faster, and it ends up backfiring.

picture this: kongming is sitting in his thatched hut, tears in his eyes, heart all a-flutter, waiting for his beloved leige lord to turn up, and the servant is like "master, there's three important men at the door" (idk who the third guy should be but it's a nice round number. maybe huang gai?) kongming: !!!! "ok, I will play some music to set the mood. i was rude last time by falling asleep and i want to make a good impression."

not even 3 bars in and a VERY familiar voice calls out "you're flat."

kongming is so fucking outraged that for a second he forgets to be surprised because that was ONE HALF-STEP DOWN, ASSHOLE!!!! YOU trying getting reincarnated and deincarnated several times over and then meet your soulmate (he called liu bei that irl, look it up) and see how steady your hands are, asshole!!! god, this is just like wei wuxian from my danmeis...

then it dawns on him that none of the peach garden trio have musical literacy. he runs outside, takes one look at the three men in his courtyard and is like "well, this timeline is a wash. aight im gonna go out back and bash my head in. on second thought, i should do it here and freak zhou yu out. suicidal existential despair is no excuse not to troll zhou yu."

but the afformentioned takes this opportunity to stroll into kongming's bedroom, and starts tuning his qin (not a euphamism) without permission. kong ming says passive-agressively, "i see you're quite adept at tightening another man's strings" (not a euphamism), zhou yu replies "a neglected instrument is like a neglected soul" (not a euphamism), "are you offering to duet?" says kongming through gritted teeth to which zhou yu replies "oh don't worry, i can see you're out of practise so i'll be gentle and take it slow," (not a--) and it's at this point lu su grabs huang gai by the elbow and goes "wow, what a nice bamboo grove! the two of us are going for a walk! a nice LONG walk FAR AWAY in the BAMBOO GROVE for THIRTY TO FORTY MINUTES! see you in THIRTY TO FORTY MINUTES!"

huang gai: i literally spent 30 years in the army you don't need all these euphamisms.

lu su: LALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE SCENIC RUSTLING OF THE BAMBOO!

*insert that scene from Flirting Scholar where zhou yu and kongming start fighting, they roll under a table, there is a brief skirmish, and they come out with their clothes swaped. they are playing doubles on a single qin the entire time.*

[gojonanami]

Do u read any manwha if so do u have any recommendations?

alright I was making a list but I can’t find it — so here’s a new one:

The First Night with the Duke (18+, isakei, comedy, romance): this is my favorite only because it’s hilarious. The ML is kinda a yandere but he’s actually not bad and it’s mostly used for comedic effect. FL is a girl who was reincarnated into a side character’s body of her favorite book and she’s just content to live her life because the character she is has a lot of money. she was gonna stay far away from the ML, but ends up getting drunk and sleeping with him. so what happens when he asks her to take responsibility for taking his virginity (and his heart).

The Broken Ring: This Marriage Will Fail (historical / 18+) : read the tw, this probably isn’t for everyone — six year old Ines chooses Carcel to be her husband because of his pretty face. Carcel believes Ines to be deeply in love, but what happens when she finds out he’s cheating and she doesn’t care? (Multiple lives, cheating but kind of understandable(?), black cat x golden retriever)

Going to Bed with My Hater (modern, 18+): this one is so cute — the FL used to be a big fan of the ML, but when he started taking on mediocre roles, she blasts him as a critic. and then she gets drunk ends up sleeping with him, and has to be on a TV show with him. It’s so cute.

How to Survive as a Maid in a Horror Game (horror / comedy / fantasy / romance(?): this is an interesting one. FL is isakei’d into a bad horror game she was playing the night before that’s known for horrible game mechanics that are very punishing. she gets reincarnated as a maid who is a servant to the heir to this important family and seen as a savior — but he’s actually a murderer and the devil.

The Law of Being Friends with a Male (high school romance, cute, fluffy): FL has a crush on her friend, but her friend confesses that he has a crush on another girl. Friend tries to ask her who her crush is and she describes him vaguely and he thinks he knows who it is — and tries to set her up with his best friend, the ML.

my Cocky Neighbor (18+, neighbors to lovers): this one is a little weird and I would say the main gimmick of this manhwa is essentially all but ignored but putting that aside — I think the dynamic between the ML + FL are so cute. ML is basically your basic playboy who is annoying FL with all his noise at night. She goes over to complain, and he basically slams the door in her face. She accidentally curses him and he becomes a dildo…it’s a whole thing.

Marry My Husband (18+, revenge, second chance at life): funny I finished this one right before the drama dropped. FL lived a horrible life with her husband, and then she found out her best friend and husband were having an affair while she was dying of cancer. they end up murdering her and she is sent back in time. she has a second chance and she wants to get revenge on both of them. but she also finds friends and love along the way!

I will make an attempt to change the genre (isakei, romance, comedy, fantasy) — FL is reincarnated into the body of the evil aunt in her favorite novel — an antagonist who is killed off early on for being shitty and money hungry. she decides to be a good aunt to her nephew, who is the main character, and try to change the course of the story — where he ends up alone for most of his life after the death of several characters. FL ends up involved in the story and finding a love interest in the form of the Duke, who is the nephew’s uncle (uncle on his father’s side, FL is aunt on the mother’s side, so they aren’t related).

I thought my time was up (fantasy, romance, curse): FL has a shitty family and is going to die of a rare magical disease of which there is no cure. so she wants to have a boyfriend before she dies — she has strong purification magic so she makes a deal with a Duke that she will purify his cursed body if he dates her (and then they fall in love).

Not Sew Wicked Stepmother (romance, comedy, isakai, fairytale, mentions of SA): a woman is isakai’d into the body of essentially the plot of Snow White — her stepdaughter is about 11 and the stepmother was been treating her badly until she was taken over by the MC. MC just loves the daughter and wants her to be happy. She gives her husband the space he wants and demonstrates that she wants her stepdaughter to be happy and he starts to fall for her.

Honorable Mentions

his family is obsessed with me

I’m stanning the Prince

the evil lady’s hero