#illuminate (na na na na)
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illumins · 1 year ago
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╚═══════ஓ๑ ✩ ๑ஓ═══════╝
𝐌𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒
𔘓⁩ ᵗⁱᵖʲᵃʳ
✦𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: low fantasy, romance, fanfic.
✦𝐩𝐨𝐯: omniscient | third pov
✦𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: blood; violence; death; verbal/physical abuse; power imbalance.
✦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: finished.
⟢𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : When Lena, a hidden noble's daughter, seeks freedom at the small coastal town below. She comes across a daring pirate, one she'd come to hate and then love.
✦ 𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 ✦
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐨𝐧𝐞
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐭𝐰𝐨
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐬𝐢𝐱
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐜𝐡𝐩 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭
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nap-thym3 · 5 months ago
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Sebastian Solace(Pressure) x Reader/Self-Insert 🌊
Part-One /Fluff/1,886 Words
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Synopsis: In which when I first played pressure I just stood and stared at Sebastian’s character model for a solid five minutes. So this was born. yayayaya
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Army crawling on your knees and elbows, your chest rattles with your wheezing breaths. Truth was, you’d never been an active person. The most legwork you’d gotten in a day was typically at work, and even then, that was minimal. Suffice to say, being thrust into this shitshow of a scenario where running from constant threats was the norm, the situation couldn’t be anymore dire.
You wave a hand about in front of yourself, fanning away the disrupted layers of dust that fluttered in the cramped ventilation shaft as your rasping coughs bounce off the walls and create a cacophony of god-awful racket. You mutter a slew of curses to yourself, clapping your palm over your nose and mouth in a pitiful attempt to stifle your coughing fit. It would be just your luck for a nearby eldritch-horror to overhear your pathetic, asthmatic-self in the vents and drag you out by the ankles. The thought alone brings an electrifying jolt of anxiety through your person, and if you had the space you’d be looking over your shoulder in paranoia. Alas, the best you could do was put your jittering nerves to use and crawl just that little bit faster. Honestly, it was an accomplishment in of itself that you managed to shimmy-shammy your adult self into such a claustrophobic passage in the first place. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve just marched straight past the most convenient and inviting looking vent in the world. Probably assuming it to be a blatant trap. Except, you did know better. Just a few feet ahead lay maybe the only place in the entire bowels of this hellscape where you felt you were well and truly safe.
Crawling out of the shaft like an NYC subway rat, you’re finally free to hack up your lungs in peace without fear of death by angler. At least, no death from this one in particular. Blindly you lean back to sit on your haunches, eyes straining to pick up any movement in the darkness.
“Oh. It’s you.” Your shoulder’s jump as a voice drawls from the far-side of the room. Soon after, a gentle glow begins to illuminate the occupied space.
Now with your gracious host offering you visibility, you blink your adjusting vision over to watch as Sebastian seemingly just wraps up whatever file he’d been perusing in the dark. Before you can even attempt to try and sneak a peek at whatever he’d been reading, said folder closes shut with a swift snap. The merchant then carefully tucks the item away into his inner-coat’s pocket. A shame, your snooping has been so swiftly shut down before it ever had a chance to begin- you pout at the missed opportunity. Sebastian catches your longing gaze fixated on his coat, and gives a condescending little pat to the area where you know the concealed document is to be hiding. Wordlessly daring you to even try. Cheeky fish.
“Not even a ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you’? I could’ve been dying in there!” You bemoan in a familiar way of greeting, gesticulating between yourselves wildly as you saunter forward. Sebastian, unphased by your usual eccentricities, drags an unimpressed eye over your much smaller form. Analyzing. Probably looking at your absolutely filthy diving suit- sweat-drenched and caked in dust, grime, and maybe even a little bit of blood as it was. At least you assumed so, if the distaste visibly evident in his features was anything to go by.
“I was hoping whoever it was would die a little more quickly.” Was his dry response, before turning his head in indifference; seeming to have found whatever it was he was looking for on your person.
You scoff, “I see chivalry really is dead.” You gripe without any real bite in your voice. Already beginning to survey the merchant’s wares. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him as he begins to preen over his nails, pretending to be checking for dirt. Or blood, you didn’t know the guy well enough to say for certain what he did in his free-time. Your attention travels upwards, from his large hands up to his round face. The light emanating from his angler’s bulb casts an almost ethereal glow to his features. Especially with the way his eyes gleam that cerulean blue that’s quickly becoming a favorite color of yours. In addition to these qualities, there’s a very light sprinkling of bioluminescent freckles smattered across his cheeks. Sort of reminiscent to that of stars. Idly your fingers twitch, the sudden urge to reach up and map them like constellations startlingly strong. All these qualities make Sebastian feel so surreal, so out of this world. In juxtaposition to all of that, you’re confident to say that if he had the means, he’d be snobbishly turning his nose up at you right about now. The mental image brings a small, secretive smile to your face.
Sebastian rolls his eyes- or at least, you get the impression that he does. His lack of distinctive pupils makes it hard to tell.
“Are you going to actually buy something today?” He snips, cocking out a hip. “Or are you just going to keep gawking at me?” The merchant sneers through grit teeth(or maybe that was just his face?).
Snapping out of your reverie, caught with your hand in the proverbial cookie-jar, blood rushes to your head as you grin sheepishly up at his accusatory glare.
“Sorry, you’re just…” you wave a hand up beside yourself, willing the right words to come to you. Sebastian, amused by your silent floundering, quirks a knowing eyebrow at you. As if saying ‘Go on?’ The soundless goading sends you into a mental spiral- what did that mean? What did he think you were going to say? God- you don’t want to accidentally offend him, but you also don’t want to sound like a complete idiot. You gulp, mouth opening and closing a few times as you attempt to formulate words that will appease him.
Seemingly tired of you embarrassing yourself, Sebastian moved to speak, assumedly in an act of mercy from this sad display. Quickly, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, before he could beat you to the punch.
“You’re just really pretty.” Mortified, you clap your hands over your mouth. Yup. Those are. Definitely words that you just said. To his face.
Muscles tensing, you brace for his reaction. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, disgust, maybe? Mocking laughter, most probably. Any and all situations your brain can conjure up are absolutely humiliating in equal measure. However, as one moment drags into two, and the silence has still yet to be breached, you cautiously look Sebastian’s way. The sight that greets you is a rare one. The infamous Z-13, Sebastian Solace, is left speechless.
The Merchant’s smug expression falters, a look of genuine astonishment crossing his face. The dim light cast by his lure does little to mask the way his stature curls inwards slightly. A slight too much, in your opinion. You can see the muscles in his jaw clenching and unclenching- as though internally wrestling with a response. Just as you had been a moment prior. The knowledge that he was just as at a loss for words as you were eases the tension in your shoulders, if only by a hair. Miser so does love its company, after-all. There’s a brief pause, heavy and awkward, until he finally speaks, his voice softer than usual.
“Pretty?” he echoes, almost disbelievingly. He then swallows, visibly thrown off-kilter.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called… At-At least- that is to say, not in a good long while.” The second half of his sentence is murmured, as if mostly said to himself. But you had overheard, and he looks as if to have noticed the way your brows pinch in a confusing whirlpool of emotions. Mostly sympathy, pity, among other emotions neither of you were too entirely ready to put out on the table. God forbid you two express emotional maturity and speak plainly like adults. Sebastian flexes his long tail, the serpentine appendage looking as if it were going to either pull or push you away. However, before it can make any progress in either endeavor, Sebastian, -noticeably uncomfortable- clears his throat.
“Silly little thing.” He croons, swooping down from his towering height to give you a patronizing pinch to the cheek with his clawed index and thumb. “You should be mindful of your tongue, hmmm?” As he speaks, his usual edge returns to his voice. Your head helplessly tilts side-to-side with the motion of his ‘affection’. Affronted, and a little whip-lashed with his quick recovery, you swat the offending hand away from your face.
“Jerk! I was trying to be nice!” Despite the biting words, you can’t help but feel relieved to be set back on familiar ground. Whatever emotional vulnerability present in the moment prior was slowly ebbing away, returning to your regularly scheduled squabbling. Sebastian chuckles, bodily retreating to his previous stature and re-clasping his hands before himself with an echoing ‘clap’. You rub at your reddened cheeks, whether their heat was due to Sebastian’s rough treatment or from an entirely other emotion, was only for you to know.
Sebastian continues on distractedly, seeming to have already recollected his composure. “Flattery will get you nowhere here, you know. But… thanks.” You think you see his eyes dart away for a brief moment, before locking onto yours again. A curl of his typical smirk splaying across his lips.
You gasp dramatically, a goofy smile erupting on your face. “The mighty Sebastian? Saying thanks?” You tease.
Sebastian waves a hand about in the air dismissively. “Yeah yeah, just don’t let it get to your head.” He says, crossing his arms defensively. He steamrolls on before you get anymore wise ideas to- eugh, compliment him. “Now hurry up and buy something already!” He snaps, motioning to the various goodies strapped to his person. Not having to be told thrice now, you hurry and make your selections. Eager to move on from everything and anything to do with word ‘cute’. Nothing major, just a few batteries for the road and a mobile hacker or two. Sebastian seems to approve of your choices, and if the price he demands of you seems a little cheaper than the usual- well. You certainly weren’t going to complain.
Getting everything tucked neatly away and ready to go, you begin to trek back towards the vent before being stopped once more by Sebastian.
“Oh! And Traveller?” He calls. With an answering hum, you look back to maybe your only friend down here. The merchant in question seems to look like he’s turning something over in his head, before continuing with a withering sigh.
“Try not to get yourself killed out there, alright? I’d hate to lose such a profitable costumer.” He sing-songs grimly. Despite the harsh words, you can’t help but notice a slight undertone of warm endearment. Feeling like a certified Sebastian-whisperer, you pride swells in your chest at being able to read between the lines. With a barely concealed snicker at his thinly-veiled concern, you toss a final farewell his way before retreating. All throughout the next dozen or so rooms, you journey forward with a skip in your step. Feeling invigorated with newfound determination knowing that a certain merchant was counting on your safe return.
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eeeughh I’m so rusty with writing. Like. It’s not even funny how long this took me for just a one-shot? Idk I might continue this, I just suck so bad at staying motivated for fanfics. Anywho, hope any fellow Sebastian enjoyers out there liked this, there’s not enough content out there of him👍 please make more content guys pls I’m starved for the fics puh-LEASEE
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kasagia · 6 months ago
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Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!soulmate! reader Summary: You were taught that there were monsters lurking in the darkness. That you should never talk to them—those who are just waiting to get at you in your defenceless state. But how do you avoid something that haunts your dreams every night? And what to do when a nightmare suddenly enters your reality? Warning: violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; soulmate au!; Taglist for Feyd: @avidreader73 Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part II ~•♤♤♤•~
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At first you thought it was just a nightmare.
One of those terrifyingly stupid ones that happens when you collapse into bed in exhaustion after a long day of training with your father.
You don't remember exactly how you ended up on Arrakis, but you know for sure that it wasn't your home planet. You may have been too young to remember everything from your past or to have one sure memory about living somewhere else than that one huge dune, but it didn't change that at night you are haunted by images that the human imagination couldn't create on its own.
However, you preferred not to mention it to your father. He kept the story of your little family close to him, not telling anyone from your Sietch any details. For him, the past was supposed to stay in the past. So you didn't push him. The life you had... was, for lack of a better word, enough. You didn't go hungry, you didn't lack water as much as other groups, and you lived a peaceful life far from the Atreides and Harkonnens who tried to take over Arrakis or the cunning plans of the Bene Gesserit. You lived in peace.
Until some time.
It all began with a nightmare…
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You shiver as you feel the heat rising from the desert sands surrounding you. A warm wind blows into your eyes, mocking you as it hits grains of sand in your eyes. You curse, rubbing your hand over your eyes as you try to cover them so you can take in as much of your surroundings as the crazy sandstorm will allow you.
In the distance, you see something like a cave carved into a rocky dune. You head there in hopes of finding shelter there. You go slowly, step by step. Sand gets inside your shoes; you feel it everywhere. On the skin, in the hair, on the eyelashes, on the lips. You feel like you're about to choke on it.
The pungent scent of the spice fills your lungs, making you feel stronger and more alert as you wade through the folds of sand.
And suddenly, you hear it. Gentle, dull thumps on the ground. You freeze, realising what they could mean—or rather, what they could attract.
You run ahead even before you notice the sand moving due to the sandworm's arrival. You feel the ground shake as you desperately try to escape the bloodthirsty creature of Arrakis. But, as always, you're too slow. The sandworm emerges, engulfing you completely. Darkness envelopes you as you feel yourself falling.
Only this time you don't wake up with a racing heart or jump out of bed with rapid breathing, grabbing for the sword that rests safely by your bed.
No. This time, you land in a large, empty, black room.
You shudder, wrapping your hands around yourself and rubbing your arms as you feel the coldness of the room hit your skin. You frown as you walk over to the mirror, which seems to be the only thing in the room illuminated by the dim glow of the torchlight on the wall. You're wearing a long black nightgown; your nails are painted black, as are your lips. Your skin is a little paler than usual, but you're relieved to no longer have to deal with the sands of Arrakis. You are fed up with this planet every day, seeing it in your dreams only kills you more…
You don't recognise this place, but something about the darkness surrounding you makes you feel uneasy. Your heart quickens as you look for a way out of the empty, black chamber.
Your bare feet lead you into the darkness, all you can hear is your breathing, your heartbeat, and your quiet footsteps as you take quick steps, trying to have as little contact as possible between your skin and the cold, black marble underneath your feet.
You start to hear whispers. Quiet, feminine. You don't understand most of them; they all merge into a tangle of sounds, from which it is difficult to distinguish single words. You walk forward, only to once again stand in front of the same mirror as at the beginning of your journey.
You examine the black frame, looking for some hidden mechanism they might be hiding, convinced that there is some secret passage hidden behind the mirror. You run your fingertips lightly over the frame of the mirror and flinch when you accidentally prick your finger.
You hiss as a trickle of blood runs down your finger. You put it on your lips, but before you can lick the blood off it, you see in the mirror that someone's large, white hand is firmly gripping your wrist, stopping you from doing so.
You freeze when your eyes meet the icy blue irises of a man emerging from the shadows behind you. Your heart beats faster when you see his white, bald head and eyebrowless face. The sneer on his face allows you to see his pitch-black teeth for a moment, which makes you shiver.
Harkonnen.
You feel him pressing his chest against your back. He wraps his other hand around your waist like a snake, making you feel trapped, like you can't breathe anymore.
Somehow, you can't move your gaze from the mirror. And even when you're in Harkonnen's dangerous grasp, all you can do is look at him, or more precisely, into his eyes. You are hypnotised as if you have never seen one in your life, as you have never killed one. You can't shake the feeling that he's familiar to you. Your stupid heart calms down at his proximity, but your mind screams at you to run away from the enemy. And it's right. As always. But you're too stunned to listen to reason, too enchanted by the developments you're seeing in the mirror in front of you.
As he tightens his grip on your wrist, you break out of whatever strange spell you're under, letting your survival instincts take over. You try to fight him, to break free from his grip, but he doesn't seem to care that you are struggling against him. He directs your hand with your bleeding finger to your neck, leaving a trail of blood from your mouth to your neck, collarbone, and shoulder.
You shiver as he finishes, and, keeping his gaze on you in the mirror, he guides your hand to his mouth. The inside of his mouth is warm, his tongue wraps around your finger, drawing in every drop of blood that still escapes from the wound that is healing. He sucks up the last of your blood, licking his lips as he releases your finger.
"Sweet." His soft purring in your ear gives you goosebumps.
He leans down and places a wet kiss on your shoulder. His tongue caresses your skin as he licks up the blood he placed there earlier. You stare at the mirror, frozen, as his pale, almost white skin touches yours as he follows a trail of blood, leaving small bites and a black streak in his wake. You're not sure if it was his saliva that was black or if it was from the paint they probably used on their teeth and the inside of their mouths (or at least you hoped they weren't naturally black).
You fight against him as he peppers your neck with kisses, leaving a few hickeys there. But he's too strong, and with your movements, you rub against him, not causing him any serious pain, which somehow makes him even more aroused. He is pressing the evidence of his... excitement uncomfortably against your ass.
Suddenly, his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck as he turn you to face him and pins you to the mirror. Looking at him through the mirror was completely different from looking at him straight in the eyes. It all felt… more real, however real a figment of your horrible imagination might feel.
He leans down, making you very aware that he had one spot left where your blood was still. Your lips. You try to move away from him, but the more you press yourself against the mirror, the more his body presses against you.
"Oh, she's a little warrior... that makes all of it even sweeter." He chuckles darkly, playing with a strand of your hair. You shiver, feeling his hard length press against your clothed core.
The whispers around you turn into screams and chants as he leans down to kiss the last drop of blood from your lips. You turn your head, causing his pale lips to land on your cheek. You feel his breath against your skin as he chuckles again. He takes the opportunity to lick a path from your cheekbone to your temple before catching your jaw in a tight grip.
"You won't get far, little mouse. Accept your fate." He says, leaning in again, his nose brushing against yours, you feel the cold radiating from him as he digs his fingers hard into your skin as he lazily and leisurely brings his lips to yours...
Feyd opens his eyes as the metal tray clatters against the black marble floor of his chamber.
He automatically reaches for the dagger hidden under his pillow and throws it at one of his concubines, who accidentally dropped the tray down. The other two freeze, staring at their dead sister. The dead body falls to the floor with a thud. The blood quickly begins to pool around the body of the dead harpy.
Feyd smiles, seeing both fear and hunger in their eyes when they see the opportunity to eat good meat. Pathetic. He had warned them not to wake him up today.
"Clean up and get out." He growls at them, furious. He carefully watches as they carry out the body (presumably to feast on it as the remnants of humanity within them lose to starvation) and clean the floor before obediently leaving his chambers.
Furious, he falls on the bed. He covers his eyes with his hand in a feeble attempt to return to his dream and taste your lips. He wonders if maybe it wasn't for the better... after all, he should have tasted the real thing instead of toying with you in dreamland, where his options were... quite limited.
He sighs, taking from the bedside table an empty vial of magical liquid that an old Bene Gesserit witch had given him. To connect with his soulmate in a dream.
As a little boy, he was prophesied that he would only become emperor if his soulmate stood by his side. Of course, his uncle and brother made it difficult for him to find you, believing it to be the mad ravings of an old witch. They said it wasn't the time, that he should train to be a warrior and not play some pathetic character into a romance history, that Giedi Prime needed him more, and that he shouldn't believe the old witches' prophecies and the stupid initials on his wrist. His uncle believes that he will bring him to the highest throne himself. That he doesn't need any whore whose initials match those on Feyd's wrist. That his soulmate will only weaken him.
Soulmates were rare on his 'home planet'. The baron didn't have his. His brother was too cowardly and inept to even think about looking for his own. People here rarely loved anyone other than themselves. Feyd was perfectly fine with it. Until visions began to haunt him in the night. About his soulmate. The hazy future he might have had began to plague him more and more often as he approached his age of maturity.
Before his father died and Feyd killed his mother, he remembers glimpses of good times. Where he was loved. Where he was the apple of his parents' eyes, who were each other's soulmates and loved each other more than life itself. So much so that after his father's death, his mother stopped living. She just existed, not paying attention to anything or anyone, including her own son. Her own blood… By killing her, Feyd ended her suffering and his own at the same time. Did he regret it? Not at all. Not after the training he received at the hands of the Baron.
He told himself that he only wanted to find you because he has promised a great future with you as his wife. That he has to have you if he wants to get to the top. But the passage of time only intensified his sense of loneliness. Longing for someone who is meant for him and who is supposed to be his and only his. Entirely. Willingly. Always by his side. He runs his fingertip thoughtfully over the initials tattooed on his wrist—a daily reminder of the one thing he wants most and which is out of his reach.
Feyd got used to always getting what he wanted. The ruthlessness and cruelty he learned under his uncle's supervision ensured that his every whim would be fulfilled. Either by himself or as a result of his service to the baron when he received gifts from him. But lately, he hasn't been happy with anything. He passively accepted the baron's praise, new concubines, blades, and other gifts. It no longer mattered to him. His ambitions began to grow. And after they had successfully disposed of House Atreides, Feyd realised the possibilities before him. Imperial throne. The promised golden future with his soulmate was within his reach. He just needed to find you and catch you in his iron grip.
You occupied his days, nights, and thoughts when he was fighting in the arena and at the extremely boring council meetings. And it's not like Feyd fell in love. He was incapable of love. Not after everything he's been through. But there was something irresistibly tempting about the idea of having someone who was completely HIS.
He considered it more of an obsession, a desire for something he had never had, something no one had shown him—care, affection, and devotion. And in his visions... in his visions he saw you giving him all these things. So he decided to make it a reality. And when he gets tired of you... he will always have the title of emperor, which you are destined to provide for him. He didn't know exactly how, and maybe he had previously dismissed the Bene Gesserit's prophecies and plots as a bunch of nonsense, but this one seemed... quite good to fulfil and to believe in.
"You asked for me, my na-baron." The artist he commissioned to draw your portrait stands in his doorway, shaking like jelly. He probably heard about how he killed one of his concubines this morning. Feyd had to start getting rid of them. After all, once he has you, he won't need them anymore.
"What took you so long?" He growls at him irritably as he gets out of bed and puts on a black silk robe. Maybe he would have laughed at the terrified man if his first encounter with you in dreams hadn't been so brutally interrupted. He had to find that old hag to give him more of that liquid...
"I arrived as quickly as I could, my lord na-baron. Please let me show you what I managed to create."
Feyd nods at him impatiently, letting him spread out his sketches on the desk. Feyd snaps his fingers at the maid waiting at the door. She pours him a glass of water, which he takes as he lazily saunters along the desk, assessing the sketches the man was supposed to create based on Feyd's description.
"The nose is too small. The jaw is too sharp. Is it supposed to be a woman? Burn it before I burn you. Breasts and hips are too big. Do you think my soulmate has a bulge? It looks like a caricature made by a child." He grades the drawings one by one, going through the dozens of sketches the artist has made over the past three days.
Just as Feyd is about to pick up the dagger from the chest of drawers nearby to kill an incompetent artist, he notices one particular portrait that almost perfectly captures you and your beauty. He takes it between two fingers and looks at it carefully.
"Hmm..." he hums, drinking water. He hands this drawing to the artist. "My congratulations, you managed to keep your head and prove your usefulness. Fix it. Eyes a little smaller, cheeky twinkle. I want a version of this in different outfits. Nobility, beggar, knight, whatever comes to your mind, except a whore, otherwise you'll end up like one. How long will it take you?"
"I…um…a week, my lord?" He almost rolls his eyes and loses his patience with him. If he had a dagger close at hand, he would definitely have plunged it into the man's throat by now.
"You only need one hand to draw. So don't test your lucky, or I will make sure you only have that one. I want to have portaits which fully reflects the beauty of my na-baroness by the end of the week - before I leave to Arrakis. Understood?" He asks, appreciating that the artist has the decency to at least show real fear.
"Yes, my na-baron."
"So don't waste my air."
The relieved artist quickly leaves the room before he changes his mind. Feyd nods to the maid, who follows the man and closes the door behind her. Feyd looks at the portraits on the desk again.
No higher families had a daughter who looked like you. So he had to expand the scope of his search and give orders to his soldiers to... gently capture you (or women like you) and bring them to him. After seeing you clearly in a dream, and not as the result of some distant vision of the future that wasn't that clear, he knew exactly what face he was looking for. He also had initials.
He was thinking about you as his fingertips traced the two precious letters on his wrist. He will find you. He'll look into any hole to do it. You cannot hide from him for long.
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You jump up from your bed, your heart beating rapidly as you breathe heavily after waking up from another nightmare.
This went on for a week. You'd be transported from your usual nightmare about Arrakis and put into a black room with a Harkonnen who... was doing completely different things to you than they normally did.
You blush, wiping your sweaty forehead as you remember all the... almost lewd dreams you've had. You curse your imagination for coming up with such a terrible and embarrassing scenario. You began to fear that you were developing some sick desires towards a nation that brutally persecuted your brothers and sisters, disturbed your peace, and murdered more than one friend you had managed to make here.
You should be dreaming of killing them, not of being… groped and defiled by one of them. Especially on the day when you were supposed to rescue your people imprisoned by the Harkonnens.
"Karamakala." Your friend enters your tent. "Move your ass; they're calling for sandworm."
You roll your eyes when she calls you by your tribal name. Due to your… unique skills, the Naib of your sietch bestowed it on you. The miracle of the desert.
Your father wasn't happy about that. That name attracted attention he never wanted. He preferred it when you stayed in the shadows, away from the people you travelled with in the desert. The fact that he even allowed you to go on a rescue mission with them and others was a miracle. He made his decision only through the persuasion of your Naib, who said that only if you were coming with them would they have a chance to recover the prisoners and safely go back to your camp.
You and your friend left the tent fully prepared for the mission, joining the group while waiting for the sandworm to appear. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to feel the monster breaking through the sand. What you felt most strongly was the heartbeat of your companions, but when you focused a little more, you could feel a small heartbeat in the distance, buried several metres beneath the sands of Arrakis. You twist your fingers, controlling the flow of blood from the sandworm's arteries, trying to direct it more towards where you were waiting with your hooks to dig into its body.
"Save your strength for the Harkonnens." Your father's voice booms from behind your shoulder. You sigh and let your hand fall freely, stopping playing with the animal's blood. "I want you close to me; in my sight, no stupid heroic actions, okay? We're in and out as fast as all hell breaks loose, or we get our people back."
"It's just a small base. Even without being outnumbered, we would be able to kill them all."
"Not now. They changed power. Now the baron's youngest nephew gives the orders. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty madman. But he's a good strategist; you have to give him that. He took back control of parts of Arrakis that Muad'Dib had managed to retake, so Harkonnens now again have the lands they once took. And they are not going to stop until the Arrakis is completely theirs. If they go further south we will have to leave this planet." He speaks quietly, carefully observing the people around you. You frown, staring at him in surprise.
"But you said that here was the safest for us to live. Are we supposed to run away like cowards?" You ask indignantly.
He always presented you with a fait accompli, with a decision that he made for you. Which was supposed to be best for you and your safety. But you were tired of constantly running and hiding. You wanted to take your life into your own hands. Contribute to something rather than passively watching the decline of the people you grew up with.
"It is better to be a coward than to be a dead hero. Since you were born, all I have done is protect you. So don't doubt me, daughter. I know what I'm doing." Your father scolds you, readying your hooks as you see sand moving in the distance due to the sandworm's movements.
"It would be much easier if you told me what you are protecting me from, father." You scoff at him, getting even more angry when a sudden gust of wind sends sand flying across your face, stopping in your hair. Your father chuckles, at which you glare madly at him.
"From a fate that is not seeming to be very kind for you."
"Well sometimes we have to accept it." You position yourself next to him, preparing to attach yourself to the body of the sandworm that would take you to the small Harkonnen's military base.
"As long as I'm breathing, I won't let this happen. We create our fate. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He says that before you both find yourself on the animal's back. You hide your face behind scarves and safety glasses, preparing for the long road.
Your thoughts involuntarily wander to the Harkonnen you have been dreaming about lately. Maybe a sleep potion could help you get rid of those strange, erotic dreams where one of these monsters is trying to seduce you. You had to test it later.
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Feyd takes a swing, driving his spiked whip into the body of a Fremen his men recently captured. He rarely deals with prisoners himself, but lately, when he drinks a Bene Gesserit potion every night just to meet you in his dreams, he feels... frustrated. And he knew of no better way than to take it out on his enemies.
He swings his whip. The man's moans come to him as he recalls his last encounter with you, from which he woke up a few hours ago.
He watches you from the darkness of the chamber. You look gorgeous wearing a black silk nightgown that hugs your body to the delight of his eyes. He notices the muscles you had to develop during combat or training. You must have been much more than just a delicate, pretty petal.
Which made him extremely happy. He liked a good fight. He enjoyed winning them even more.
He approaches you silently, as always, and wraps his arms around your waist. He hums contentedly against your ear, fingertips roaming your body as he makes sure you can't break away from his grip and you're pressed tightly against him.
"You should be used to me being close to you by now, my little warrior." He whispers in your ear, stopping you from fighting him in any way. He doesn't like the way you're so tense in his arms, but he's more than ready to coerce you, gently or not, into cooperating with him.
"Get your hands off me, Harkonen dog!" You growl, elbowing him between the ribs. Feyd grabs your wrists and twists them behind your back, making sure you can't move them. You gasp as he pushes you against the wall, pressing his growing length against your ass.
"Relax, I won't hurt you… yet. Keep acting like that, and I'll tie you up so you won't be able to struggle anymore." He whispers in his husky voice into your ear. He nuzzles your temple, trailing it to your neck. You hold your breath as you feel his teeth graze against your tender skin.
You know that in a moment he will sink his teeth into your body, that he will start marking you with tiny bites and hickeys. This time, however, you want to win the fight with him. You are fully ready to use against him everything you learned on Arrakis.
The moment his teeth pierce your skin, you reach for the blade at his side and push him away from you. You stick the blade out at him, making sure to make a cut on his shoulder before bringing the steel to his pale throat.
He chuckles darkly, watching you carefully as his fingers reach out to his thick black blood flowing from his wound. He licks the blood from his fingers, making sure your eyes follow the way his pink tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking the black liquid from them.
"Clever little thing… believe me, you don't want to know my wrath. Put it down. It's not a toy... well, not for you." He takes a step towards you. Before he manages to get any closer to you, you press the blade against his skin, causing a small cut along his jawline and at his Adam's apple.
Fascinated by the way the black blood flows gently down his throat, you don't notice as he knocks the dagger from your hand. He throws it behind him, causing it to fall to the floor with a thud as he reaches for you.
You growl, kicking, trying to break free from his grip as he carries you across the room. Your efforts intensify when you feel the smooth, velvety material of the sheets beneath you.
He hovers above you, one of his hands grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the mattress above your head. His hard length rubs against your core through the fabric of your clothes. You sigh, trying to push him away or bite him when he leans down to tease the skin of your neck again.
"You smell so beautiful, so different. My little soulmate. So fierce. So brave. My little warrior. I could teach you so many things… if only you would stop hiding from me." You shiver as his fingers trail under your black nightgown. He cups his hand around your breast and plays with your nipple, pinching and nibbling it, wanting to see the little pebbled mounds that lift the black fabric of your clothes. He rolls up the fabric of your nightgown and rubs himself against your bare core, groaning at the way you soak his pants with your unwanted arousal. He throws his shirt aside and grabs your throat in a tight grip, forcing you to look into his eyes whether you want to or not. "But you know what? No matter how far or fast you run, no matter how deep you hide, I will find you. I will find you in every corner of the world. I will follow you. Follow after every trace of you, whether you let me or not, and I WILL find you. I will catch you in my arms, I will dig my claws into you, and I will not let you go. Enjoy your freedom during the day, little warrior, while you still can. But in the darkness of the night, you are utterly mine."
You growl in anger, making one last attempt to fight him off. You lean towards him and bite down roughly on his neck. He groans, digging his fingers and nails into your hips, making you gasp as you feel him leave crescent-shaped marks on your skin.
You take advantage of his moment of inattention and dig your nails into his chest, dragging them across his collarbones and down to his abdominal muscles. You push him away from you, kicking him out of bed, and just as Feyd's head lands on the floor, he wakes up from his dream.
"Na-Baron. We… The Fremen attacked the south gate." One of his soldiers hesitantly approaches him. Feyd glances at him briefly, selecting his dagger from the body of a prisoner, but still watches the soldier out of the corner of his eye.
"What do you mean they attacked us?"
"These rats want to retrieve the transport of prisoners that arrived last week, my lord." The man replies, horrified by the calmness with which Feyd addresses him.
Everyone knew perfectly well that the young Na-Baron could compliment your fighting skills one moment and then slit your throat like nothing happened. He was dangerous in any state of humour. This was common knowledge and opinion that Feyd had been working on for a long time.
He didn't need a reason to do something.
"So gather two troops. Let's have some fun with them. It's not every day that they come willingly and eagerly to their slaughter." Feyd responds with a sneer, readying his blades. It was exactly what he needed—to take his frustration out on those rats who thought they could outsmart him and his men.
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You run through the corridors of the Harkonnen's base from the soldiers with your friend by your side. They held your people for several days without water or food; most of them couldn't move on their own, so as soon as you saw a face you had known since childhood among the prisoners, you threw the man's arm over yours and dragged him to the place where the entire squad was supposed to gather.
You hold your breath and hide in one of the side corridors. You hold him close to you and breathe softly, trying not to attract anyone's attention. You manage to reach your group of men safely, but that's where your luck ends.
Within moments, a group of Harkonnens surrounds you. You must disperse. Each of you is on your own after you manage to attach your unconscious friends to a sandworm's body so they can survive the trip to your sietch.
You manage to avoid most of the Harkonnen soldiers, and you kill those who get in your way without blinking an eye. You're halfway to the second emergency exit you and your men had marked out before raiding the base when you bump into someone as you run to another corridor.
You gasp, trying to regain your balance. You freeze when you recognise the black Harkonnen's armour on the arms, which keeps you from falling to the floor. You look up and freeze, seeing the same blue irises that haunt you in your nightmares.
"Well, well... what do we have here?" You're shaking. His voice in real life is as hoarse, deep, and dark as in your nightmares. He is exactly as you dreamed of him. You hate the way your body somehow recognises him and automatically relaxes in his arms—the way his scent and closeness have become familiar to you.
You struggle in his arms and manage to push him away from you. You run as fast as you can, trying to lose him among the corridors. You hear his raspy laugh behind you before his quick footsteps begin to echo down the empty halls as he follows after you.
You scream as he lunges at you and pins you to the stone floor. You struggle under him, kicking and trying to scratch him, but he grabs your wrists in his strong grip.
"Take it easy, little warrior. We knew from the beginning how it would end. Do not move. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you try to escape." You sigh, closing your eyes. You freeze, focusing on your surroundings, your mind racing as you wonder how to get out of his arms and this place. You shiver when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Exactly like this. Beautifully. That's my pretty girl. Who would have thought you would be one of those rats?"
"Be careful with your words." You growl, enduring the intense gaze of his blue eyes.
He laughs hoarsely and leans in. His full lips brush against yours in a kiss. First, he takes his time checking how far he can go, but when he sees that you are not trying to bite him, push him away, or run away, he deepens the kiss. His hand tangles in your hair, and the other frees your wrists to trace you through your Fremen attire.
For a moment, you allow yourself to lose yourself in the feeling of his lips, the way he caresses your lips so gently and with such passion, and the way he practically wants to devour you just because he actually can—that this is not one of your dreams but reality. A reality that Feyd was yearning for so long—too long—to even admit.
Eventually, however, you manage to break free from his strange charm. You run your hands down his chest to his hips. He moans into your mouth, entwining his tongue with yours. You reach for his dagger and stab him in the back without blinking an eye. You push him off of you, and, ignoring his growl, you get up and continue running away.
Your heart is beating like crazy, and your muscles are starting to ache from exerting yourself for so long, but you continue running until you can no longer hear any footsteps behind you. You sigh in relief as you reach a group of other Fremen. You are getting ready to evacuate; you are about to summon a sandworm when another group of Harkonnens attacks you again.
You look around in panic, searching for your father in the crowd, but you can't find him anywhere. Your heart speeds up, and adrenaline rushes through you, speeding up your reactions to the blows. You fight like crazy, not stopping even for a moment. However, you notice that slowly, the Harkonnens are starting to win. You signal to your companions and retreat into the desert. You release a small bomb whose main purpose is to raise the sand and create a cover for you.
The sands of Arrakis swirl around you. You run forward, trying to get as far away from the base as possible. As far away from HIM as possible.
Your lungs hurt from the sand you inhale. You want to cough and cry from the sand getting into your eyes, but you don't stop running. You gasp as the sand beneath your feet suddenly begins to move strangely. Strangely familiar. You curse under your breath, realising that the sandworm is about to appear in a second.
And suddenly, you feel like being back in your nightmare. You see the mouth of a sandworm again. You stare at his teeth again, a black abyss that is soon going to swallow you completely. You stand there frozen, completely forgetting about all your training, as if you had accepted a long time ago that this is how you were going to die.
And everything happens exactly as in your nightmare. Only this time, as you surrender to the darkness around you, you hear the roar of the ship's engine and the harsh language of the Harkonnens when you pass out.
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You feel your head pounding. Huge pain, as if thousands of tiny needles were being stuck into your temples. You open your eyes, squinting as you adjust to the dimness around you. Judging by the immense pain you felt, you definitely weren't dead. Or you did, and you were in hell now; you weren't sure yet. You look around you, noticing a fire in the middle of the small cave you were in. You lean back on your elbows and freeze when you see Harkonnen's bald, pale head.
You get up silently and move to where your gun was, looking carefully at the man kneeling by the radio who was trying to transmit a signal. With a knife in your hand, you begin to examine your surroundings more closely. You notice that the entrance to the cave has been blocked by a ship. If you wanted to escape, you had to get past or kill Harkonnen and guide the ship out of this place.
"If I were you, I wouldn't do that, little warrior." A shiver runs through you as you hear the familiar, raspy voice that has tormented you in your dreams many times. You tighten your grip on the blade's handle and point the tip of it at him, maintaining your fighting stance. "You have a torn ankle ligament, a minor concussion, and you're dehydrated. Even with your knowledge of the desert, you won't survive there when a sandstorm rages. Here." He turns to you for a moment and throws the water bottle at you. You grab it with one hand, still eyeing him warily.
He speaks something in his language; you only manage to recognise a few words, such as Na-Baron, Dune, reinforcements, ship, and your location data. When he finishes, he stands up, turns to you, and furrows his hairless eyebrows, watching you closely.
"Drink. You'll feel better." He says this and sits down by the fire as if nothing had happened. You blink a few times, staring at him in shock as you try to understand why he acts so strangely... calm. You step back and hiss as your foot goes out of alignment, straining the torn muscle. "I told you so."
"Where are we?" You ask, wincing at the sound of your hoarse voice. He stares pointedly at the bottle of water in your hands, but you'd rather die than try anything he gave you.
He sighs, annoyed, and stands up. You raise your knife, pointing it at him as he starts to walk towards you. However, he doesn't stop, only when the tip of the blade pierces gently into his chest. He reaches for the water bottle and unscrews it. He takes a small sip and licks his lips, giving you a glimpse of his black teeth.
"Not far from our base. Your people summoned a sandworm. If I hadn't flown the ship to you and taken you away, it would have swallowed you. A moment later, a sandstorm came, and I had to take us to a safe place. We'll wait it out here, and you'll come back with me to the main stronghold. So be a good girl and listen to me while I feel like going easy on you. I guess you can do this for me for saving you, right, my desert rose?"
"You do one decent thing and expect me to submit to you? I didn't ask you to save me, and besides, I think in the grand scheme of things, one saved life doesn't do anything to make up for the many others that you took." You reply furiously and take the water bottle from him. You take a few sips, appreciating the way it soothes the dryness of your chapped lips and throat.
"Said the woman who killed 10 of my men with a small knife." He replies, amused. His eyes linger on your mouth for a moment as you lick your lips, spreading the holy water across them. Feyd has a strong desire to lean in and kiss you; maybe even let you stick your little knife into him...
"It's not my fault they are so incompetent." You say, pushing past him and walking towards the fire. The night was starting to fall, and it was starting to get colder in the cave. You sit next to the fire, wrapping your arms around yourself and staring into the flames as you try to ignore HIS presence.
"Things I could do to you…" He mumbles to himself as you brush your arm against his. Your scent reaches his nostrils, and Feyd closes his eyes, inhaling it like a drug. He imagines things he wanted to do to you, things that would make him feel more closely that sweet scent coming from you.
Goosebumps appear on your skin as he takes a few steps closer to you and stands behind you. You try to ignore him, but the burning sensation where his initials are carved into your wrist keeps you from forgetting who the Harkonnen you are trapped with is. You tense as he drops to his knees next to you. He places his hand on your ankle, and you almost make a move to kick him when you feel his low growl in your ear.
"Relax. I just want to check your leg. You almost lost it in the mouth of a sandworm." With one hand, he pushes you to lean against his chest. You reluctantly let him, becoming more and more aware of the burning sensation in your leg.
He takes off your shoe and places it in your hands. He takes his time, slowly peeling off the layers of fabric. You are surprised to see that you already have a dressing—a dressing that is soaked in your blood. You shiver, feeling his fingertips on your skin as he unwraps the bandage. You hiss as he tears the fabric away from your slick skin, fully showing you your wound. A few centimetres deeper, and you wouldn't be able to move it.
"I need to disinfect this again. When we get back to base, we'll give you the anti-venom serum." He hums, leaving you for a moment. He walks over to the ship and pulls out a first-aid kit. You wince as you move so you can rest your back against the cave wall.
"I'm not coming back with you anywhere." You growl, still gripping your knife tightly, though in your current state, you realise you're not that much of a threat to him. He snorts at your response, kneeling down next to you. You bite your lip as he disinfects your wound and begins to bandage it.
"Hush, little warrior. You're talking nonsense because of the effects of the venom." His condescending tone makes your blood boil. You tilt your leg to make it harder for him to bandage you, and he just gives you a furious look before returning to his task without a word. You frown, staring at him. To be honest, you would rather expect him to stab you, cut you into pieces, and eat you than voluntarily take care of you and your health.
"Why are you doing this?" He stops what he's doing and looks at you like you're an idiot, like you asked the most absurd question possible.
He reaches for your hand. You tense up, ready to elbow him in the teeth, but you stop when you see him gently roll up the fabric of your linen shirt and wrap his hand around your wrist. You shiver as his thumb strokes the initials on your wrist.
"Can't you guess, a snarky little thing?" You remove your hand from his grip and hug your knees to your chest, curling into a ball and watching him warily.
"You do not know me. You kill people like me without blinking an eye."
"I do." He says, staring at you intensely, as if that fact had no significance and shouldn't affect your opinion of him. "And you kill people like me. I guess we can call it even."
"I do it only because you are invading our land and people! You are desecrating our holy places; you have no respect for our culture; you treat us worse than... don't look at me like that." You whisper the last sentence, moving closer to the wall as he leans into you. You swallow, shifting your gaze from his blue irises to his bloody hands. Large, rough, bloody hands. Bloody hands that could touch you so well in your dreams.
"Like what?" He asks hoarsely, reaching his hand to cup your cheek. You shiver as he spreads your burgundy blood there. You close your eyes and breathe shakily, which is your biggest mistake. He takes advantage of your distraction and leans down to lick the blood from your cheek.
He moves away from you. His eyes are locked on you as he wraps his lips around the finger of his other hand. You lick your lips involuntarily, watching him lick your blood from his fingers. You shake your head and clear your throat, moving away from him as far as you can, feeling one of the rocks dig into your back.
"Like that." You mutter, shifting your gaze to the flames in the fire.
"Why?"
"You know why. We… we are from two completely different worlds."
"Are we?" He asks, moving closer to you. You shiver as his arms wrap around you, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. His warm breath against your ear makes you feel warmer—something you don't want to admit to yourself and something he noticed the moment your shoulders shuddered slightly at the coldness emitting from the cave walls. You still hold the knife stubbornly in your hand, as if it would somehow protect you from Harkonnen.
You sit there in silence. You let him cuddle you, enjoying a little of the warmth he gives you. You sigh, trying to ignore how good you felt in his arms and how his scent enveloped you nicely, making your eyes close on their own. However, you try to remain vigilant, still unable to trust him in any way.
You sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his chest. He lies down on the blanket he spread for you earlier and covers you with the other one, making sure that you are comfortable and warm. You don't try to argue with him or get out of his arms. You know there's no point in fighting him. It's starting to get colder, and he's becoming a better source of heat with each minute you are in his arms.
You know that if anyone in your sietch saw you right now, cuddled up to the Harkonnen, sharing your body heat with him, you would be banished, maybe even sentenced to death for associating with the enemy.
You had very conflicted feelings about him. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you to come to your senses and plunge your knife into Harkonnen's heart while you had the chance, but your heart, a strange instinct, was drawing you to him, encouraging you to bury your face in the crook of his neck and listen to his soft breathing.
Your heart speeds up slightly as he reaches out to intertwine his hand with yours, the one that still holds the knife. He pulls you closer to him, his arms trapping you in an iron-tight embrace. His lips brush against your earlobe as he whispers to you, his husky tone of voice giving you goosebumps.
"Are you afraid of me, my little warrior?"
You swallow and close your eyes, grateful that he can't see your face, which is blushing involuntarily. You wonder what's wrong with you to react to him like this and why the mark of your soulmate, or rather, his initials on your wrist, burns you hotter than the sun of Arrakis has ever done.
"Of course I am. You're a Harkonnen. You are our greatest enemy. I hate you just as much as I fear you."
"And as much as you desire me?" A gasp escapes your lips as his other hand is suddenly under your clothes. You can't help but moan as his fingertips tease your bundle of nerves, gradually moving to the spot where your juices ungodly and humiliatingly leak out of you. Your water. "You think I can't smell you? That I don't see the way you tremble every time I touch you? The way warmth radiates from you every time I'm this close? I may not have known you here while awake, but I know you from our dreams. I recognise your every little reaction to me, to my touch, to my kisses. And what's more, my little warrior, you are breaking more than one law of your people. You give me your water in such a sinfully delicious way, and you don't even know my name."
You squirm in his arms, but he holds you tightly with his other hand, so all you do is rub against his hand in your feeble attempt to escape. You tighten your grip on the knife, but that's all you can do as he explores areas of you no one has ever had access to before. You're helpless, too dizzy from the sudden, intense pleasure he also gave you in your dreams. You never thought you could feel such... sensations while awake. Pleasant experiences.
"Maybe I should give you something you can moan and scream, hmm? Tell me, sweetheart, do you want to know whose fingers are touching you? Who do you give your precious water to? Who showed you things in our dreams that you would be ashamed to mention to your people?"
It's embarrassing. The way he made you melt under his touch. All you could do was moan and grind against his hand as he brought you immense pleasure. You move your hand with the knife and press the blade against his neck at the back of his head. You trace patterns on the skin of his bald head with your finger, resting your head on his shoulder as a wave of an unfamiliar feeling washes over you, cutting off all your senses. All you can feel is your core and his fingers as they continue to push into your depths, intensifying your indescribable pleasure.
"Feyd." He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe. You repeat his name stupidly, moaning and screaming it as he teases your over-aroused core, making your water flow out of you uncontrollably a second time, wetting your pants and his hand.
When he finally removes his hand from your pants, you shiver uncontrollably, curled up on his chest. You breathe quickly, staring at the cave's stone ceiling, waiting for your brain to finally reconnect with your body. You gasp as he pushes his fingers through your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.
"Don't waste your water. Sweet, right, little warrior? When we get home, I'll spend a week between those beautiful legs. You'll wrap them tight around me, won't you? Will you dig your heels and claws into me, pressing my face against this wonderful source of water in this damn desert?" The way he talks to you, so blatant and disgusting, should make you stab a knife into his throat without a moment's hesitation. Instead, you let the blade fall next to his head as you tried to recover from what you just experienced. You're warm. Hot. And you want more. You need more.
He takes your hand and guides it to the bulge in his pants. You sigh, feeling all of his glory. And suddenly you feel extremely empty.
"Mmm… another time. Sleep." He mumbles and presses a kiss on your temple. His arms wrap painfully tight around you as he makes sure there is no space between you. The cocoon of blankets keeps you warm from your... last sensation at his hands. And you feel as embarrassed about it as you feel comfortable lying in the warmth.
You allow yourself to listen to his calm breathing. He don't fall asleep. Neither do you. You both wait to see who will faint from exhaustion first, and as much as you want to surrender to sleep, you know that the moment you close your eyes, you seal your fate forever. You will irreversibly become Harkonnen's prisoner.
Feyd's prisoner. Na-Baron's captive. You don't want this fate.
So close your eyes, relax your muscles, and slow down your breathing. Pretending to fall asleep is all you can fool him with, because yes, he saw you in your dreams in various situations and knew you inside and out, but he didn't know one thing. He didn't know what you looked like when you fell asleep.
You didn't know what he looked like when he was sleeping either, so you took a little risk with your not-so-well-thought-out plan, but you knew it was the only way to somehow escape from Harkonnen's grasp.
You wait a bit for him to relax, too. He puts his chin on your head, hugging you like some cuddly toy. But you know better than to assume that these monsters have some cuddly toys. If anything, teethers with spikes.
You lie there for a good few minutes, maybe even hours, going over your escape plan in your head. You breathe calmly, thinking about what you will do if you fail... you can always stab yourself if things don't go your way.
You quickly reach for the knife and plunge it into his knee. You twist it, damaging his joint, so he can't follow you, and you stand up. His screams and growls make you ignore the pain in your leg and run towards the ship that was blocking the exit. Somehow you manage to open it, your hands shaking as you unlock the door. Somehow he manages to get up and walk towards you, approaching dangerously fast, but you are more agile than him. You lock yourself inside the ship, break the window on the other side, and run forward.
You ignore his screams and threats and run deep into the desert, knowing full well that he won't catch up with you. The sandstorm had long ended, and the sun had risen again over Arrakis. You were in your territory; you were unstoppable.
You feel remorse, but only a little. You know perfectly well that the Harkonnens were incapable of love. You would be his prey and nothing else. You had to run away from him as far as you could.
And if he wanted to chase you? You would let him.
He could follow you wherever he wanted, but here on Arrakis, he could never catch you. And you really hoped you wouldn't have to run away from him to another planet.
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crystalskiesandcherrywine · 9 months ago
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The way you say my name
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Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x female!Reader
Its pure smut and since its about Feyd, there are some warnings: he is not so gentle. There is desire on both sides and it ends up getting in the praise kink/forced orgasm territory.
Summary: Your planet has brought magic into the galaxy - a source of new spice- and upended the political status quo. You are the sole heiress of your house and the emperor decided that the best way to protect your family's survival is to betroth you to the most enigmatic but violent fighter in the known universe: Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, dangerously seductive and very intrigued by you …
2.203 words
one shot ( for now)
_________
Your whole body was tense, filled with anticipation and nervousness. You noticed your fingers were unconsciously playing with your belt again, and with effort you made yourself refrain from doing so. It was not your first time in the Emperor's court, nor was it your first state reception. Still, it was the first time you had set foot on Kaitain since the new spice was discovered on your planet. Something that had been considered impossible for millennia and that would shake the existing power structures in the Landsraat and the entire known universe. From an insignificant house on a planet beyond Orion, blessed with centuries of stability because of it, your family has been catapulted into a position of a central political player. Your fate, albeit a small piece of a power play against the backdrop the these developments. "Our task is greater than ourselves. Our fears, smaller." The mantra that helped you hold a steady course. You relax your shoulders and notice how your back straightens. 
At that moment, a festively dressed servant entered the room to announce Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and his nephews arrival. Even though you had been prepared for this encounter, the sight was a shock to her. At the first glance he is less imposing then Rabban, who moved into the room like a mountain of muscle and leather uniform. But there is a slow and steady menace in the way he carries himself. His demeanor, both elegant and commanding, reminded you of a marble statue brought to life; his skin almost seemed to illuminate the room, a contrast stark against the dim flicker of torches.
If he had eyebrows, he would certainly have raised one a little crookedly by now. But as it was, his ice-blue eyes suddenly started at you, and you sensed a hardness in his entire demeanor that you weren't used to at home and whose traces you might have felt in her upbringing with Bene Gesserit, but which had always been wrapped in a velvet glove. But power, violence and strength were clear to see in this man. The reason why the Emperor wants to make him your husband - the only one who can apparently guarantee the safety of your planet. He was not used to having to hide his true character. And that is exactly what you would make his downfall.
The formalities dragged on endlessly, time seems to slow down under his gaze. He cannot comprehend you, the strangeness of your features, the luxuriant curls of your hair falling over your shoulders in an elegant half updo, the waves of burgundy silk of your cloak adorning your shoulders, your dress of the same silk and lace - how can anyone appear so vulnerable and exposed? Especially one who holds the key to the most coveted of secrets - a new spice, as powerful as the one exported from Arrakis, but with fewer dangers, Fremen rebellions and more sustainable methods of harvesting. Only this thin fabric separates you from him, something his knife could shred in seconds. He notices that your eyes have left his and are now focused on his hand, gripping the blade at his waist so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He unclenches his hand and offers it to you, bowing slightly. 
"My lady, would you allow me to escort you?"
You place your hand on his and he almost jerks back, surprised by its warmth.
"A mere twist of nature, I tend to forget how shocking it must be to someone not from my home. Our temperature has evolved to be slightly higher than the average, so that when the temperature drops at night, we never fall below a certain threshold".
He listens to you as you walk down the hall towards the banquet room, taking in your voice, the slight swish of your gown on the floor, the click of the delicate gold chains around your neck disappearing into the modest cut of your dress. 
His thoughts oscillate between genuine intrigue with you and your planet, both of which he will soon call his, and a burning desire to test your seemingly obvious fragility, to see how many times he can take you before you beg for mercy, how many bites into your skin will make you whimper, how many slaps on your ass will bring you to your knees regretting whatever misdeed you may have done. You can see his hunger, thinly veiled by manners, and you are sure that he is not accusing you in front of everyone for being in the Emperor's house and not on Giedi Prime. He seems so lost in thought that you have to repeat your question.
"Are you all right, Na Baron? Is something wrong? My conversational skills must be truly dull to bore you so".
He seems to come back to the present, his eyes resting on yours again, the colour of pure blue, like a deep frozen mountain lake. You look down, and just as he finds his voice, the Emperor rises to end the banquet.
"Then I shall bid you good night. If you wish, join me in the botanical garden tomorrow before noon. Perhaps my conversation skills will have improved by then".
He nods and stands to pull out your chair, taking the opportunity to let his fingers slide down your spine through your dress as he moves the chair to the side. He will join you tomorrow alright.
_____
The sun flickers through the canopy of trees above you, leaving a mosaic of shadows on the small, flat cobblestones of the path. You have your hair in a braid that sits like a halo around your head, your arms bare in the sun, dressed in a light linen top and form-fitting trousers that allow for more movement as you tend to the plants. The small patch in front of you is half empty, with small plants dug up. Their purple roots are gnarled and wobbly, while the vines are the darkest shade of green. A tiny bead of sweat clings to your eyebrow, and you pull off your glove to remove it. 
"Is this how my intended likes to spend her time?" His voice behind you, rough and deep. You are startled and drop the glove. He picks it up and holds it out to you, looking straight into your eyes again.
"Thank you. Sometimes I do," you give him an open smile and take the glove back from him, he holds it for a second longer than necessary, seemingly puzzled by your open expression once again. "These plants are from my home, the Emperor tries his best to cultivate them here, but we cannot figure out why they do not develop as they should," you look up at him, his gaze still unmoved from your face.
"Am I boring you again, Na Baron?"
"Not at all," his tongue moves over his lush lips, brushing his cupid's bow.
"Well then, these tiny plants are one of the main factors in the production of the new spice. Their sap is..." You take a small knife from the box beside you and just as you cut into one of the roots, your hand slips and a red streak of blood appears on your left hand. In an instant, a small trail of red drips down your palm and onto the light stones at your feet.
His eye darkens as he grabs your post, ignoring the plant in the flower bed, and brings the injured hand to his lips. A shower passes through you, his tongue brushing your skin, electrifying.
"You should be more careful, my lady." 
His voice almost a growl, his soft and plush lips sucking lightly at your skin, leaving a red mark around them. 
"Yes, I should, Feyd," you are not sure if calling him by his name was a familiarity you allowed yourself too soon, but his reaction proves you wrong. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. You feel your breath mix, his scent sweet and musky around you.
"Say my name again" There is no politeness to hide his hunger now.
"Feyd..." An almost unbearable exhalation is all you can manage. And with that, he closes the gap between you and descends on your lips, devouring you. His kiss tastes slightly metallic as you taste your blood on his lips, his tongue touching your teeth, demanding entry. You give in, melting into his ministrations, your hands unable to stay still, reaching for his neck, nails digging into the porcelain skin, he almost Monas into the kiss, his hands clawing at your bottom, gripping the flesh in an iron grip. You make a small sound that seems to be all he has been waiting for. Leaving your swollen lips, his attack continues in your jaw and neck, leaving small marks. You feel his arrousal pressing against you and your right hand lets go of his throat and slides over the leather in a rhythmic motion. Before you can think how you can take so much, his size is obvious even fully clothed, he grabs the knife from before and cuts open your top, not bothering with the buttons, leaving your chest exposed to him. His mouth travels to your nipples, his tongue dancing around them before his mouth closes on them and his other hands pinch the other hard. You moan, the pain delicious and unexpected, making you arch even more towards him. He unties the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare to him. A drop of your wetness makes its way from your core along your inner thigh as you melt in his arms. His hand wanders deeper along your hipbones and thighs and as he catches the drop his predatory smile becomes a grin. 
„My lady seems to be enjoying herself... Kneel down".
You obey, the hard floor hurting your knees almost immediately. He pulls his swollen cock out of his trousers and strokes the head along your lips. You open your mouth and begin to lick his shaft with broad strokes, sucking the tip in and letting it fall from your mouth with a wet plop. He watches your every move and pushes a lock of hair that has come loose from your braid out of your face.
"Yes, that's a good girl, keep going."
Spurred on by the praise, you redouble your efforts, disregarding the discomfort of kneeling on the pavement and look up at him to find him completely mesmerised. He cannot believe how willingly you give yourself to him, without reservation. He feels as if he has found something sacred, something so precious and wild that he cannot imagine ever getting enough of it. He steadies your neck and finds his own rhythm, fucking your throat hard, the gurgling sound coming from you like music to his ears, you are struggling for air but he is relentless, filling you with his cum until you swallow every last drop. Your eyes almost in tears, you try to catch your breath, but Feyd has other plans as he helps you to your feet and lays you down on the patch of fresh earth. He spreads your legs and caresses your core. The pain seems to dissolve into a sea of pleasure, leaving you disoriented and greedy, your hands pressing the back of his head into your cunt. He moans in approval, sending more delicious vibrations through your cleat and as his tongue fins you entrance, you lose yourself in the orgasm, chanting his name with more earnestness than any prayer that was ever to leave your lips. 
He looks up at you and just when you think you are going to get a break from his ministrations, he pauses only to strip, his leather overalls falling to the floor and revealing his muscles. He grasps your hips and you spread your legs even wider, giving him an unobstructed view of you and your pulsating cunt.
"So ready to take me, my lady, so ready for my cock to fill you," he smiles, aligning himself with your entrance and thrusting in at once. His cock, thick and throbbing, disappears inside you as you continue to chant his name. He rams into you with abandon, his head touching your wall as his hands wander from your hips to your breasts, kneading them, whipping you into the frenzy of the second high, spasming even harder around his cock. 
"I think you can come again for me, my Na Baroness," he whispers in your ear as he lowers himself over you, one hand loving your breasts to study himself on the floor, the fingers of the other circling your clit. You moan, overstimulated and hot, writhing under his touch.
"I know you can do it," he continues, not slowing down, and he is right as you cum again, this time sending him over the edge, his movements becoming ragged as his seed fills you. As your both breathing calms, you look into his eyes again and you know he is a goner, lost to the magic of your touch and how your desires dance together.
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satoruhour · 1 year ago
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a/n: i need college / uni bf!geto rn bc my hands hurt :( newly established relationship <3 0.9k, rich kid!suguru i guess? / tagging @crysugu @na-t0 @papersirens @hydrovillette
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“didn’t i tell you not to go so hard on your essay?” geto gives you a small smile, countered by your cute pout in the dark room of your dorm. the way he lectures is gentle, having no bite to it because how would he ever dare to sink his teeth into something as sweet as you? he knows if he does, however, he just might become addicted to you. it’s clear already how the teeth is breaking skin and drawing blood just by the items in the room:
both your faces are illuminated by the fairy lights you begged suguru to buy — he gives in and buys it for you as always. it’s shown in the starbucks mug that cost ¥3300, the sanrio themed bed sheets that you’re now sitting on, the convenience store onigiris for you to store in your fridge.
“was rushin’ it before 2359, su, you know that…” you mumble more to yourself than your boyfriend, who’s staring at you as your eyes droop sheepishly to your connected hands. it’s not wrong that you could’ve started writing this essay a little earlier, cited your sources a little earlier, but you still managed to do it; at the expense of your hands. they ached and throbbed from the position they were in for the past few hours — at least you still had managed to submit it with two minutes to spare.
“but not to the point where your hands turn sore, my darling.” geto brings your hands to his lips to kiss, like the little gesture of love could magically heal you. it feels like it does. the tenderness of his touch, the roughness of his finger pads against your smoother skin, the thoughtfulness itself. you grunt a little in pain when suguru starts to massage the palm, digging his thumb in and dragging it up and down. he squeezes your hands, giving each finger its attention, wiggling the hands to loosen your muscles.
“you know,” you hum in response and look up from your flustered state to find him already staring at you, “my mom used to do this for me.”
“yeah?” you whisper, heart pounding in your ears. two and a half months in and geto suguru was already treating you like treasure, not at all what they say he is: conceited of his intelligence, rude, a know-it-all rich kid. sure, he was smart, he was rich, but he made it clear he had no interest in the industrial, business side of the family. geto was generally open about his past, his parents leaving the toxic world and giving their son an upbringing filled with unconditional love and openness. but people usually liked the juicier gossip; none of them had bothered to know geto for who he was.
“yeah.” geto brings you in via your hands, lips colliding clumsily against yours from the force and you both laugh softly, “said its been passed down in her family for the longest time.”
“it’s helping… a little,” you giggle, eyes memorising his eyes shone under fluorescent.
“is it now?” the warmth of his hand leave yours for a moment to tilt your head up, catching your lips properly this time as he moves slow. suguru takes his time with you, moving against you as his other hand still continues to massage. that was one thing he was good at too, multitasking; he plays with your hand, travelling over your fingers and stroking over each section and its nail bed and then pulling away teasingly while he continues to hypnotise you into a dance. you hear him hum into the kiss, exhaling through his nose as he now interlocks both hands.
“focus on the squeezes, baby,” geto suguru drives you insane, in that little silky voice of his and the slight lilt in his voice. you let him lead you, feeling the soft pressure of his hand as he brings them above your heads and leans forward. you make a small surprised sound as he brings you right down to lay flat on the bed, hovering over you whilst still giving those periodic squeezes, entirely at his mercy as his lips never stop. they come off to breathe for some air and you’re the same, flushed cheeks and swollen lips and geto lets out a shaky breath.
it’s only then when he lets go, caught in your trance. easily, he tugs you into his lap as he lays down, not sure if he could uphold his obsession if he was on top.
“is this really part of the massage process?” you ask, legs naturally going to either side of his hips as you lay on his chest. you smile to yourself when you realise how fast his heart’s beating. off to the side, geto finds your hand again: him with his left and you with your right and you tangle into each other with the choreography of a million sprouts in the wind. finger into finger and palm against palm.
“hmm…” geto feigns confusion, prompting you to turn your head towards him. you grin seeing his red cheeks, “nah, just deviating a little from the family recipe… is it working?”
“it was earlier but now? oh, no, not really.” geto’s eyes flutter close when you move forward just a bit to peck his lips. you twine your fingers with his; you’re getting good at this multitasking thing. “but wherever you are, i will always feel much better than i was.”
“good.” suguru mumbles with a lovesick smile, and he gives your connected hands a squeeze and a grin threatens to spread across his face when you squeeze back just as hard, “that’s… really good.”
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haluenx · 24 days ago
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Na Jaemin.
— Morning Whispers.
The first rays of sunlight crept through the window, gently illuminating the room. The soft glow of dawn caressed the edges of the curtains, filling the room with a warm, golden hue.
Jaemin was the first to wake, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he adjusted to the early morning light. He could feel Y/N's body pressed snugly against his, her warmth surrounding him. The quiet stillness of the room felt like the perfect moment to savor her presence.
With a small smile, Jaemin traced soft, lazy figures along the smooth expanse of her bare back, his fingers brushing lightly over her skin.
He loved how her body felt against his, the softness of her skin, the way her breath moved in rhythm with his.
His hand then moved to her hair, gently running his fingers through the soft strands, his touch slow and tender. He couldn't help himself. He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, then another on her neck, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath his lips.
"Good morning, baby," Jaemin whispered, his voice hushed and full of affection. He leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to her ear. "Wake up, gorgeous."
Y/N let out a soft sigh, still lost in the warmth of sleep, but the sound of Jaemin's voice was enough to pull her from her dreams. Slowly, she opened her eyes, the hazy remnants of sleep still clinging to her. She smiled softly when she saw his face, his eyes half-lidded, a smile playing on his lips.
"Morning..." she murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep. She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his as she felt his fingers gently brushing against her skin.
Jaemin chuckled softly, the sound warm and affectionate. He leaned in to kiss her lips, a light, playful kiss that only lasted a moment before he pulled away with a mischievous grin. "You sleep like a baby," he teased, his fingers lightly tracing her shoulder. "I was awake for ages just watching you."
Y/N's eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into his touch, a small laugh escaping her lips. "I was dreaming of you," she said with a teasing grin, her hand sliding up to rest on his chest. "But I guess I'm awake now."
Jaemin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really? What were you dreaming about?"
Y/N giggled, her breath warm against his skin. "Nothing you need to worry about," she teased, her lips brushing against his jawline as she kissed him softly, pulling back just enough to catch his eye. "You know I like to keep some secrets."
Jaemin smirked, his hand slipping under the cover to rest on her waist. He gently pulled her closer, their bodies fitting together seamlessly. "I see how it is," he said, his voice low and teasing.
"You're not gonna tell me your secret? Well, that's fine. I'll just have to make you tell me later."
Y/N chuckled softly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest as she pressed another kiss to his lips. "Mmm, maybe. Or maybe I'll just keep you guessing."
The two of them stayed like that for a while, sharing small kisses and quiet laughter, the peaceful morning stretching out around them. The soft covers clung to their bodies as they moved together, their fingers exploring, their lips finding each other again and again in sweet, lingering kisses.
Jaemin's lips brushed against her forehead as he whispered, "I love waking up like this with you." He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before resting his head on the pillow beside hers.
Y/N smiled softly, her heart full as she nestled closer into his arms, her fingers lightly tracing the back of his hand. "Me too, baby" she whispered, her voice soft. "I think this is my favorite way to wake up."
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space-mango-company · 9 months ago
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Stranger | Chapter 5
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism
Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.
Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.
ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.
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You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.
"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."
"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."
You stare at him indifferently.
"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."
You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"
He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."
"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.
"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."
You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.
Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"
You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."
His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.
"What?" you call after him.
"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."
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You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.
You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.
You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.
"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.
"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.
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There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.
"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.
"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"
"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."
"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."
"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.
"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.
"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."
Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."
You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."
You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.
Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.
Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.
Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.
You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.
The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.
Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.
When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.
"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.
You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.
When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.
Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.
A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.
Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"
You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.
"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.
You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.
"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.
"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."
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You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.
After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."
She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.
In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.
He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.
When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?
When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.
You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.
You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron
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svt-luna · 3 months ago
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ʚིᵋ ⋆ GAME CATERERS X SVT ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 2-2.
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Game Caterers x SEVENTEEN
synopsis: Episode 2-2! We officially begin the next segment— the music quiz with chaotic team groupings, team names, and competitive music quizzes for the competitive members.
surprise!! double post for this very special day!! in honor of Jeonghan’s birthday today, I finished this chapter for you, my lovelies! I hope you guys enjoy it! until the next one! all the love 🤍💛💚
╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST
╰౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ game caterers masterlist
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[added captions are in brackets] ღ
bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ
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After a refreshing break, the members of SEVENTEEN slowly trickled back onto the set, now subtly different from the previous round. The bright lights illuminated the space, highlighting pairs of chairs spread evenly across the room, each with a small table placed neatly in front. The casual energy from earlier seemed to linger in the air, but now there was an unspoken anticipation.
[SEVENTEEN is waiting again after the 'Super' Store]
Luna and Jeonghan strolled back together, a comfortable ease between them as they made their way to the chairs. Their steps were unhurried, but there was a spark of playfulness in Luna’s eyes. Without warning, she skipped ahead of him, her light steps carrying her straight to the chair beside Jun.
[Bunny hop, hop, hop!]
Flashing a grin over her shoulder, she dropped into the seat and leaned back, clearly satisfied with her choice. Jeonghan, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, sauntered toward the chair separated from Luna’s but still positioned right next to hers. He settled down, casting a glance in her direction, the unspoken connection between them palpable even as they sat apart.
Jun glanced between Luna and Jeonghan, his brows raised in curiosity. "Is this a team game? One desk per team?" he asked, his voice thoughtful.
Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back into his chair. "I don't know," he replied casually, glancing at Luna.
Luna smirked and turned to Jun, "Are we a team then?" Her playful tone made Jun chuckle as he shrugged again, clearly just as clueless.
"I love it," Mingyu chimed in with a grin as he sat down nearby.
"This is so much fun," Dokyeom added enthusiastically, settling into the seat beside Jeonghan.
Jeonghan combed his fingers through his hair and nodded, joining in, "I know, it's fun." His laid-back demeanor added to the lightheartedness filling the room.
“I love it too" Luna exclaimed, leaning forward in her seat, the excitement evident in her voice.
"I'm having so much fun here." Seungkwan joined in as he seated next to Mingyu.
As the group exchanged their sentiments, Seungkwan suddenly turned toward PD Na, who sat nearby overseeing the setup for the next game. "You should call us again," Seungkwan called out, his tone eager.
"What?" PD Na replied, looking slightly confused, not catching what Seungkwan had said.
Jeonghan leaned forward, repeating with a laugh, "Give us a call again," which earned more laughter from the crew, including PD Na, who was amused by their antics.
[That was the best compliment ever]
"I want to be funnier," Mingyu confessed with a grin, shifting in his seat.
"We should try harder," Dokyeom agreed, leaning toward Mingyu as if to conspire.
One of the writers, clearly entertained by their banter, chimed in, "How can it be funnier than Omega-3?"
The mention of Jeonghan’s earlier answer during the quiz segment sparked immediate laughter. Luna, sitting on her phone while her hair stylist adjusted a few strands, giggled, remembering Jeonghan's hilarious ‘Omega-3’ answer from earlier. "No one can top that," she said with a wide smile as her stylist finished up.
PD Na, sensing the lighthearted mood, looked at them and asked teasingly, "Does that make you more jealous than the prizes?"
"I want to be funny," Mingyu repeated, pouting slightly.
"I'm jealous when someone's funny," Dokyeom added, his face scrunching up in exaggerated frustration.
PD Na mimicked Seungkwan’s earlier reaction, "Seungkwan was like, 'Oh, I should’ve got that.'"
[What a bummer]
Seungkwan could only laugh at the impersonation, while Wonwoo, ever calm and composed, chimed in, "I have to say, I was jealous." His deadpan delivery earned nods and more chuckles from the crew.
[They're jealous of people who are funny]
SEVENTEEN's break was nearing its end, and the set was slowly returning to life. Each member was doing their own thing— some sitting quietly, some talking to each other, while others scrolled through their phones.
Luna, however, was fully focused on Jun’s phone, which he had handed over so she could play a game.
[Pre-game game]
Both of their eyes were glued to the screen, fingers tapping in sync as they whispered in excitement. Their hair stylists stood by, fixing their hair or adding small touches to their makeup as they continued the game.
“Wait, wait! Go left!” Luna whispered urgently to herself, her hand swiping across the screen.
Jun leaned closer, trying not to laugh as their stylist added some hairspray to his hair. "You have to tap faster, Jiyeonie”
“I’m tapping! I’m tapping!” Luna’s eyes widened as she tried to clear the level, her concentration unwavering.
[They are not fighting]
The two were so focused that they barely noticed the rest of the room.
From their right side, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Dokyeom, and Jeonghan were passing the time by singing lines from their song 'Super.' Their voices melded together in a playful harmony, each taking turns with their individual parts, filling the air with soft but familiar melodies.
Luna managed to clear the level, her face lighting up in victory. “We did it!” she whispered to Jun, flashing a triumphant grin.
“Nice!” Jun smiled back, equally pleased with their success.
In the midst of the relaxed atmosphere, the voice of a staff member suddenly echoed through the room. "Audio director, did you raise the volume?" she asked, her voice carrying across the set.
"Yes," came the reply from the audio director, confirming the sound adjustments.
Before anyone could process what was happening, the opening beats of the BSS sub-unit’s song, 'Just Do It', blared through the speakers, startling the members from their casual conversations and games.
[Suddenly playing 'Just do it' by BSS]
Immediately, Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom— the trio behind the song— sprung into action, instinctively singing along in their seats.
[Automatic response]
[For some reason, they just start singing]
As the song’s energy hit the room, several members started to join in. Jeonghan and Mingyu bopped along to the rhythm, while Luna, still seated, began singing the lyrics softly to herself, her body swaying with the beat. A couple of members even started to do the dance moves, half-committed but grinning as they moved in sync.
Then, as the chorus approached, a collective understanding seemed to wash over the room. Without needing to say a word, all fourteen members suddenly stood up from their seats, moving to the center in perfect unison to dance to the chorus.
“All of a sudden? But I just fixed my hair,” Seungkwan said, still confused, as he took his place at the front next to Hoshi and Dokyeom. “Just do it!” he called out with a grin, and at once, the members snapped into perfect synchronization for the chorus choreography.
[How scary]
The sight of all fourteen members dancing in unison brought laughter from PD Na, who was clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding in front of him. "Good job," he said, amused.
Seungkwan, ever the showman, took the opportunity to engage an invisible audience, as if they were back on stage. “Are you ready to have fun?” he shouted, mimicking their concert hype routine, his voice full of energy.
"What are you doing?" PD Na asked, laughing in confusion.
Dokyeom joined in, keeping the playful atmosphere alive. “Send lots of love to The Game Caterers: SEVENTEEN Special!” he called out, playing along with the mock concert vibe.
[No matter what we play, they dance, sing and speak automatically]
Just as the chorus ended, and everyone was catching their breath, PD Na pulled out a whistle from seemingly nowhere and blew it loudly, startling the members once more. “Two people!” he exclaimed over the noise.
Instantly, the members understood the next game— they needed to pair off. Chaos erupted as everyone scrambled to find a partner. Some ran across the room, while others grabbed whoever was closest.
Luna, who was nearest to Joshua, instinctively grabbed his arm, pulling him into a tight hug as they partnered up, just like the rest of the members who hurried to find a match. The pairs stood together, laughing and a bit breathless, still surprised by the sudden instructions.
“The person next to you is your partner,” PD Na announced with a grin.
[Oh]
There was an immediate chorus of responses from the members. Some hummed in approval, pleased with their pairing, while others groaned in playful reluctance, clearly unsure of their chances in the upcoming game. A mix of excitement and apprehension rippled through the group.
Luna and Joshua exchanged a glance before chuckling at their sudden fate as partners. They high-fived each other, and Joshua smiled, “Nice.”
“I think it's a music quiz. I’m not that confident,” Luna admitted, her brow furrowed slightly in concern.
Joshua gently pulled her toward their seats, positioned between Woozi and S.Coups’ team on one side and Dokyeom and Jun’s team on the other. “Don’t worry, I’m not good at it either,” Joshua reassured her, his easygoing tone making her giggle as they took their spots.
One by one, each pair started to settle into their designated seats. Seungkwan and Hoshi, who were still hyped from their spontaneous dance earlier, plopped into their chairs with grins. Mingyu and Jeonghan sat down next to each other, while Dino and Wonwoo silently found their seats, their quiet but confident energy contrasting with the others. Vernon and Minghao, always laid-back, took their seats in sync, effortlessly cool. Meanwhile, Woozi and S.Coups, ever the reliable duo, exchanged a few words before settling in. On the other side of Luna and Joshua, Dokyeom and Jun were still buzzing from their earlier excitement, whispering to each other as they sat down.
Once all the members settled into their seats, PD Na leaned forward with a curious look and asked, “Were you attracted to your partner by instinct?”
A few chuckles spread through the room as the members nodded in response, clearly reflecting on the hasty pairings. “Yes,” they answered in unison, playful smiles lingering on their faces.
“I said it out of nowhere,” PD Na recalled, earning more nods from the group, everyone in agreement about the abrupt nature of the instruction.
“You’re going to play a game as a team now,” PD Na announced, and the room immediately erupted in cheers and clapping. The energy was palpable, with every pair anticipating what was coming next.
“I’m sure you’re sitting with the person you have chemistry with,” PD Na teased, and the members, still buzzing from their spontaneous bonding, nodded eagerly. But then, PD Na's tone shifted slightly. “But… you may have something you don’t like about your partner. Let’s talk about one flaw of your partner.”
[Let's talk about each other's flaws]
The room fell into playful groans and laughter, knowing they were about to enter dangerous territory. PD Na gave them a few minutes to discuss privately with their partner, and almost immediately, whispered conversations broke out between the pairs.
Luna turned to Joshua with a grin. “Your flaws? You have none,” she said confidently, reaching up to smooth out a stray piece of his hair, her touch gentle as she adjusted it in place.
Joshua couldn't help but smile, flattered by her words. “You don’t either,” he replied, the sincerity clear in his voice.
But Luna, never one to let a moment go to waste, leaned in closer with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Your flaw is… you never age,” she teased, her smile growing as she met his gaze.
Joshua laughed at her playful jab, but before he could respond, she raised an eyebrow, daring him to come up with something better. “Your flaw is…” Joshua trailed off, glancing at her as if trying to seriously figure it out, his lips curving into a grin. “There really is none… that’s annoying. That’s the flaw.”
Luna burst out laughing at his cheeky comment and gave him a light nudge on the arm, shaking her head. “You can go harsher than that,” she challenged, still grinning, her eyes sparkling with humor.
Their laughter mixed with the sounds of the other teams discussing, each pair deep in their own conversation about flaws that weren't really flaws at all.
As soon as the time for brainstorming ended, PD Na called for attention, and the room quieted down. “Let’s start introducing the flaws,” he said with an eager smile, ready to hear what the teams had come up with.
The first pair to go was Mingyu and Jeonghan, both looking slightly amused by the eyes on them.
“Did you team up again?” S.Coups asked, his voice filled with playful disbelief. He shook his head, clearly amazed by the coincidence.
“You're meant to be,” Dokyeom chimed in with a grin. “I can't believe they teamed up again.”
[Mingyu and Jeonghan are always together]
Mingyu and Jeonghan exchanged a quick glance, trying to keep a straight face.
[What does Mingyu think Jeonghan's flaw is?]
Finally, Mingyu started the discussion, unable to hold back his laughter. “You need to stop burping,” he said, directing the comment to Jeonghan.
Laughter erupted throughout the room, the sudden bluntness of it catching everyone off guard.
[The unexpected biological flaw]
Jeonghan, in his usual relaxed way, simply nodded, lazily acknowledging it with a small shrug.
[The unexpected flaw of the good-looking face]
“It’s going to take a long time to talk about it,” Mingyu continued, shaking his head. “I'll just say he needs to stop burping.”
PD Na, chuckling along with the rest of the room, nodded in agreement.
[What does Jeonghan think Mingyu's flaw is?]
Jeonghan took a moment to think before coming up with his own response. “Don't fart after taking protein,” he said to Mingyu, causing the room to explode in laughter. The joke hit even harder than the first, especially with the way Jeonghan said it so nonchalantly. PD Na and the rest of the crew couldn’t stop laughing, their amusement echoing around the room.
“That’s an amazing start,” Luna said, chuckling at the ridiculous yet hilarious exchange.
“You had to say it,” Dokyeom added, nodding in approval as if Jeonghan’s comment had sealed the deal.
“They’re about physiology,” Seungkwan pointed out, wiping away tears from laughing.
“They’re perfect,” Minghao added with a grin, pointing at Mingyu and Jeonghan. “One comes from up, the other comes from down.”
[Fart] [Burp]
That sparked another round of laughter, especially from Mingyu, who decided to lean into the joke. “Can you play ‘Up&Down’ by EXID?” he asked, his tone completely deadpan, which only made the room laugh even harder.
[Giving up]
“I don’t care about the show anymore. I give up now,” Mingyu added, still keeping the deadpan expression, throwing his hands in mock surrender.
“‘Up&Down,’” Minghao repeated through giggles, and as if on cue, Vernon started singing the chorus of the song quietly to himself, making the atmosphere even more lighthearted and fun.
[We don't know how to wrap this up]
As the laughter died down from Mingyu and Jeonghan’s playful exchange, PD Na turned his attention to Vernon and Minghao. “Alright, next up, Vernon and The8,” he announced, giving the pair a nod to start.
[Next is Vernon and The8]
Vernon glanced at Minghao, an amused smile on his face as he reached over to gently tug at one of Minghao’s dangling earrings.
“The8,” Vernon began, trying to keep a straight face. “I don’t like your earrings.”
[The8's flaw: ugly earrings]
The unusual “flaw” caught everyone off guard, and laughter erupted around the room. Even Minghao looked surprised, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch the earrings Vernon had pointed out.
“You’re disrespecting him right in his face,” Wonwoo chuckled from his seat, shaking his head in disbelief.
Minghao, still grinning, turned his attention fully toward Vernon. He scanned him up and down in silence, as though seriously considering what flaw to pick. The room held its breath for a moment, everyone waiting for his response.
[Scanning]
“He’s looking for flaws,” Wonwoo pointed out again, gesturing toward Minghao.
After a brief pause, Minghao finally spoke, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. “There’s nothing,” he said, immediately making Vernon shy. The rest of the members burst into an exaggerated chorus of “Ooohh,” leaning into the moment.
“That’s his flaw,” Minghao added with a small smile, a hint of teasing in his tone.
“Cute,” Luna mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for Joshua to hear, who chuckled softly beside her.
Vernon, laughing along, tried to play it cool. “My flaw is that I have no flaw,” he joked, still slightly bashful from the attention.
“That’s perfect,” Jeonghan chimed in with a laugh, fully enjoying the banter.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Minghao said, shaking his head, still amused by the whole situation.
Vernon chuckled, glancing back at Minghao. “Sorry about the earrings,” he offered, his grin widening.
Minghao smiled back, nodding his head with a lighthearted response, “Good job,” acknowledging the playful exchange as the rest of the group continued to giggle at their dynamic.
As the laughter died down, PD Na turned his attention to the next team. "Woozi," he said, his tone encouraging, "what do you think S.Coups' flaw is?"
Woozi paused for a second, his eyes drifting toward S.Coups, who waited with a playful smirk. "There isn't much," Woozi started, making S.Coups raise an eyebrow. But then Woozi continued, “But how can you get Park Bo Gum wrong?”
[Refer to SEVENTEEN Special Clip 1-3]
The reminder of S.Coups’ mistake from the earlier game sent everyone into another fit of laughter. Even S.Coups dropped his head down, sheepishly grinning at the memory.
“You were disappointed that he doesn’t know the name?” PD Na asked, clarifying Woozi’s point as the chuckles continued around the room. Woozi nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
S.Coups, still laughing at himself, took a moment to collect his thoughts. Then PD Na turned to him, “S.Coups, what do you think his flaw is?”
S.Coups looked at Woozi, eyes softening. Without missing a beat, he responded, “There’s none. I’m always grateful. I love him so much.”
The room filled with a warm, appreciative atmosphere as Woozi’s face lit up with a smile, his laugh light and sincere. “Oh, thank you,” he replied, slightly flustered by the sudden display of affection from S.Coups.
[They sound old]
“Alright, moving on,” PD Na said, his tone playful as they moved on to the next team, Seungkwan and Hoshi. “Seungkwan, what do you think Hoshi’s flaw is?”
Without hesitation, Seungkwan jumped in. “You exaggerate when you mimic me.”
This drew a series of chuckles from the group. Hoshi nodded in agreement, his expression slightly guilty but amused.
[Don't exaggerate when you mimic me]
“So he goes overboard?” PD Na asked, clarifying Seungkwan’s point with a raised eyebrow. Seungkwan nodded again, more emphatically this time.
Turning to Hoshi, PD Na said, “Hoshi, anything you want to say about Seungkwan?”
Hoshi stood up, his actions drawing an immediate laugh from PD Na and the writers nearby.
[Going overboard]
"Oh no, he stood up," Luna giggled, sensing Hoshi’s dramatic flair about to take center stage.
Hoshi, now at the front of the table, began, “Seungkwan goes overboard to be funny.”
"He does," The entire room nodded in unison, agreeing with Hoshi’s assessment, with several murmurs of acknowledgment echoing through the space.
[Everyone agrees]
"Because I’m worried about the show," Seungkwan defended himself, nodding, but the grin on his face betrayed how much he was enjoying the back-and-forth.
As the focus shifted to the next pair, PD Na turned his gaze toward Wonwoo and Dino. The room fell into a comfortable silence, waiting to see what Dino had to say.
[What does Dino think Wonwoo's flaw is?]
Dino looked at Wonwoo thoughtfully before speaking, "Wonwoo… You need to speak."
[Silence]
The statement immediately drew chuckles around the table, Wonwoo smiling shyly at the mention of his introverted nature.
Dino continued, shaking his head with a playful grin, "He never talks."
PD Na, grinning, leaned forward as if the revelation suddenly clicked. “Oh,” he said with exaggerated understanding, making the group laugh again.
Now it was Wonwoo’s turn, and he seemed to take a second to gather his thoughts, his expression as calm and introspective as ever.
[A chance to talk]
After a brief pause, he turned to Dino and, in his typical understated tone, said, "I get that he's healthy because he's young, but he needs to drink less."
Dino’s reaction was priceless— his eyes widened in disbelief, clearly taken aback by the unexpected observation. The room burst into laughter at Dino’s dramatic reaction.
[Falsely charged]
From her seat, Luna couldn't help but nod along, her voice cutting through the noise, "He's right."
Her playful but firm agreement sent another wave of laughter through the group, with everyone knowing how much Luna disapproved of her members’ excessive drinking habits.
Wonwoo's shy smile widened as he noticed the support. Amid the laughter, S.Coups leaned toward Wonwoo and jokingly added, “Tell him to stop wearing sleeveless t-shirts.”
Dino, trying to defend himself, protested with a slightly exasperated tone, “I don't drink that much. I don't drink as much as you think.”
The room erupted again, this time with Seungkwan, Woozi, and Jeonghan chuckling while PD Na nodded in amusement.
“He’s worried as your friend,” Jeonghan chimed in from the other table, still laughing. “The youngest is always the healthiest,” Jeonghan added, his words punctuated by the light-hearted tone everyone carried.
"His liver is healthy," S.Coups followed up with mock sincerity, sending another ripple of laughter through the room.
"The youngest is a drunkard and a shaver," Woozi said, chuckling, making even Dino laugh at himself.
“We only say what’s true,” Seungkwan added with a wide grin.
“SEVENTEEN doesn’t lie,” Jeonghan said, turning toward PD Na as if to emphasize his point, his playful tone drawing even more laughter from the room.
As it moved on to Jun and Dokyeom's turn, the atmosphere in the room was buzzing with curiosity. Jun took a moment to gather his thoughts before looking at Dokyeom and saying, “Sometimes Dokyeom practices singing out of nowhere.”
The members instantly erupted in laughter, understanding exactly what Jun meant. Dokyeom’s habit of bursting into song without warning was no secret to anyone.
Jun continued, gesturing with his hands as if reenacting the moment, “He suddenly goes…” Jun let out a scream-like imitation of one of Dokyeom’s powerful high notes, which only made Dokyeom laugh even harder, throwing his head back.
[Screaming]
“Sometimes he sings out of nowhere. That scares me big time,” Jun explained with wide eyes, clearly exaggerating his reaction for comedic effect.
PD Na, remembering his own experiences, nodded, chuckling as he chimed in, “I heard a few songs too.” His words were met with more laughter as everyone could imagine Dokyeom’s voice echoing unexpectedly.
“All of a sudden, while he’s walking,” PD Na added, his tone half-surprised as if just realizing the randomness of it all.
[As loud as an emergency alert message]
Jun nodded vigorously, taking advantage of the moment. “I can’t complain because he’s practicing. But I’ll take this chance to…” He trailed off, pretending to offer some criticism.
Before Jun could finish, Dokyeom, still laughing, held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’ll try to keep quiet.”
Jun immediately shook his head, “No, tell me instead,” he replied playfully, sending everyone into giggles.
“‘I’m going to sing now,’” PD Na provided an example.
Dokyeom, clearly in on the joke, grinned and said, “I’m going to sing now,” mimicking the formal announcement.
“That’s right,” Jun nodded, satisfied with the playful arrangement they’d come to.
[Emergency alert message: DK's going to start singing soon]
From her seat, Luna chuckled and, in an amused tone, added, “I mean, if I had Dokyeomie's voice, I wouldn’t shut up either.” Her playful remark drew laughter from Joshua and Dokyeom, who couldn’t resist smiling at the compliment as Luna winked his way.
[Bunny doesn't mind DK's singing]
After the laughter died down, PD Na turned to Dokyeom and said, “You can talk about Jun.”
Dokyeom paused for a moment before speaking, “Jun is kind and innocent. He’s all nice, but he’s kind of short-tempered. He loses his temper quite easily. He should try not to get angry so easily.”
The members, who had witnessed Jun’s short fuse in certain situations, voiced their agreement almost immediately.
“Angry Jun,” Woozi muttered, nodding, which prompted Vernon to repeat it with a grin, “Angry Jun.”
Curious, PD Na leaned in, intrigued. “What made him lose his temper recently?” he asked.
Dokyeom thought for a second, then said, “When we were practicing choreography…” His words immediately drew laughter from Joshua, who clearly knew where the story was heading. “When we were practicing, we’re like, ‘Isn’t that #5?’” Mimicking Jun with an exaggerated seriousness, Dokyeom suddenly said in a stern voice, “‘Never.’”
[Mimicking Jun]
The imitation was spot on, and everyone burst out laughing, especially Joshua, who could barely contain himself.
“That’s what he does,” Dokyeom said, grinning widely as the room continued to roar with laughter.
PD Na, whose cheeks looked like it was going to tear open from laughing so much, clapped his hands. “You’re so good at mimicking him.”
From across the table, Minghao playfully warned, “Dokyeom, you’re dead now,” which made Dokyeom chuckle nervously, glancing at Jun beside him.
Joshua, grinning, pointed at Jun, who was sitting silently but smiling through the entire exchange. “He’s already angry.”
“He’s getting there,” Seungkwan quipped, pointing as well, sending another wave of laughter around the room.
“Jun’s angry,” Vernon added, nodding with mock seriousness, as Jun continued to laugh along, taking the teasing in stride
[That's his look before losing his temper]
As it finally came down to the last pair, Luna and Joshua, the room fell silent with anticipation, knowing this was going to be an entertaining exchange.
PD Na, grinning, leaned forward. “Luna, what do you think Joshua's flaw is?” he asked, setting the stage.
Luna turned toward Joshua, who sat beside her, the two sharing a brief look before Luna spoke. “Honestly, Shua has no flaws…” she trailed off, her tone sounding genuine, but the playful glint in her eyes said otherwise.
Joshua, already sensing the joke that was about to land, braced himself with a smile. Luna gave him a knowing look, one that seemed to say, Here it comes— just as they had planned earlier. “But, there’s one,” Luna deadpanned, her voice turning serious as she continued, “He thinks no one looks as young as he does.”
[The best baby face ever]
The room exploded with laughter at the sharp contrast in tone. Joshua could only laugh along, while PD Na and the writers chuckled, amused by how easily Luna delivered the playful jab. The members, who knew all too well about Joshua’s confidence in his youthful appearance, agreed instantly.
“Yes, that’s true,” Seungkwan chimed in, nodding.
“Really?” S.Coups added with a grin, turning toward Joshua as if surprised by this revelation.
PD Na, still chuckling, turned to Luna, “Is he annoying?” he asked as if confirming her statement.
Without missing a beat, Joshua nodded and said, “I’m annoying.”
Luna, clearly enjoying herself, continued, “And he knows he’s handsome. He keeps talking about it.”
[Stop showing off]
The group burst into more laughter, especially since Luna’s teasing tone made it clear she was only joking. Joshua, still laughing, couldn't deny the truth behind her playful words.
“Do you really think you look young?” S.Coups asked, now fully engaged in the banter.
Joshua, trying to defend himself, replied, “Among us.”
“Among us?” S.Coups repeated, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “You think you look young among us?”
The tension built as Luna, laughing but ready to jump into the fray, interjected as she pointed at herself, “Among all of us? Isn’t it me?”
Joshua, sticking to his point, quickly clarified, “Among people born in 1995.”
At this, Jeonghan, sitting quietly across from them, couldn’t hold back any longer. “I look the youngest among people born in 1995,” he spat out, almost incredulous at Joshua’s statement.
[Glaring]
The room broke into laughter again, the dynamic between the two quickly escalating into a playful spat.
Joshua whipped around to face Jeonghan, his expression shocked. “What?”
“I look the youngest,” S.Coups retorted, jumping into the fray and pointing to himself confidently.
[A fight occurs]
Now, the three ‘95-liners— Joshua, Jeonghan, and S.Coups— looked at each other in shock, each convinced that they were the youngest-looking.
[They're all serious]
PD Na could only laugh, pointing at the trio as they sat frozen in their disbelief. Meanwhile, Dino, the actual youngest, sat quietly to the side, looking over the entire situation with an air of exasperation as if wondering how they could argue over something so trivial.
[Dino is used to this]
Woozi, observing the scene unfold, chuckled and commented dryly, “They’re all alike.”
“Without your makeup, you all have bags under your eyes,” Seungkwan added, his voice dripping with sarcasm, which only deepened the laughter in the room.
At this, Joshua turned to Seungkwan, eyes narrowing in playful retaliation. “Ya! People think you’re the leader, Seungkwan,” he said, pointing at him.
S.Coups, laughing, joined in. “People think you’re the oldest,” he added, piling onto the playful accusations.
All the while, Luna sat back in her seat, chuckling to herself, clearly shocked at how far the banter had spiraled from her simple comment.
“No one thinks you’re the youngest,” Joshua finished, his tone light but teasing.
Seungkwan, always quick on his feet, stood up suddenly, grabbing the edge of the table in front of him and lifting it as if to use it as a shield.
[Defense]
The members howled in laughter as he swung the table around, pretending to aim it at Joshua and S.Coups. Joshua raised his hands in defense, laughing even harder. Meanwhile, Jeonghan remained silent, watching the chaos unfold with a calm smile, seemingly amused but determined to stay out of the fray.
“Stay out of this,” Joshua playfully told him, still laughing.
Hoshi, who was sitting close by, turned to PD Na and nodded. “People think Seungkwan is the oldest,” he said, joining in on the teasing.
Seungkwan, slowly putting the table back down, nodded along, grinning as he played along. “Right. That’s true.”
[Seungkwan is the second youngest]
“That’s true, though,” Minghao agreed from across the room, causing more laughter to ripple through the group.
Mingyu, still chuckling, glanced around and asked, “Really? Doesn’t Seungkwan look young?”
Jeonghan, never one to miss an opportunity for a quick remark, shook his head. “No.”
Seungkwan, attempting to defend himself, waved a hand dramatically. “People later realize that I’m cute, but if they don’t know me…”
He barely got the words out before Dino, sitting quietly up until now, cut him off with a firm, “No,” sending another wave of laughter through the room as everyone agreed.
[The real youngest finds it absurd]
Determined not to give up, Seungkwan stood up again and, with a mock-serious expression, looked around the room. “Is there any CARAT here?” he called out, pointing to the empty space beside him as if searching for a fan to back him up.
Silence met his question.
[Quiet]
“There’s none,” Seungkwan pouted dramatically, his expression exaggerated as he sat back down, making the group laugh even harder.
[No personal comments on set]
As the laughter from Seungkwan’s playful antics subsided, PD Na smiled, sensing that the energy in the room was still high. He glanced toward Joshua, signaling for the next round. "Alright, finally, Joshua, what do you think Luna’s flaw is?" he asked with a teasing grin, knowing this would be just as entertaining.
[What does Joshua think of Luna?]
Without missing a beat, Joshua, who had been waiting for this moment, immediately said, “Jiyeonie…she’s annoying too.”
His words were delivered with such deadpan precision that the entire room burst into laughter, Luna included. She threw her head back, clapping her hands in pure amusement as her laughter filled the space, the suddenness of his comment catching everyone off guard.
[They are both annoying]
PD Na, chuckling at Joshua’s quick response, raised an eyebrow. “What about her is annoying?”
Joshua turned to Luna, giving her a knowing look, as if they had discussed this moment before. There was a playful sparkle in his eyes, the kind that hinted at affection wrapped in humor.
He began to explain, his tone light but sincere, “Jiyeonie is perfect at everything.”
Luna, catching onto the impending compliment, glanced at him with curiosity while the others leaned in to hear what he had to say.
“She’s beautiful inside and out. She’s talented, she can sing, dance, rap…” Joshua listed, his voice softening slightly, as if recounting all the things he admired about her.
The members nodded along, acknowledging the truth in his words.
[They agree]
“She has good luck,” he continued, his tone growing a little more playful as he stacked compliments upon compliments. Joshua paused, and then with a smirk, delivered the final blow: “It’s annoying.”
[He's strange]
The room exploded into laughter again, louder this time, as the members clutched their sides, finding his reasoning both absurd and hilarious. Luna, already overcome with laughter, clung to Joshua’s arm as she tried not to fall off her chair, gripping him tightly to steady herself as her legs weakened from laughing too much.
“Sometimes she would be minding her own business,” Joshua continued with a playful shrug, still keeping his tone as if he was making a very serious confession, “and I look at her, and in the back of my head, I’m like, ‘she’s annoying.’”
This time, Luna was nearly doubled over, her laughter uncontrollable as she leaned into Joshua, barely able to catch her breath. The members couldn’t help but join in, their own laughter filling the room, while Joshua simply smiled, clearly proud of his comedic timing.
PD Na, chuckling as well, nodded in amusement. “She’s annoying because of that,” he said, clarifying the absurd logic, while trying to catch his breath.
Joshua nodded seriously, as if confirming a fact. “Exactly.”
It took Luna a moment to calm herself down. She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, still giggling under her breath. Once she finally composed herself, she looked at Joshua with a fond smile, her voice still light with amusement. “Thank you,” she said, playfully acknowledging his “compliment”.
Joshua chuckled softly in response, the banter between them easy and affectionate, the kind that only close friends shared.
As the room’s laughter began to settle, PD Na smiled knowingly and addressed the group. “The things you just said— you could say that because you're friends. But for you to keep that in mind and fix it, that will be your slogans for the quiz.”
A collective “Ahh” of realization rippled through the members as the meaning sank in. The flaws they had just jokingly mentioned were going to become their slogans for the entire quiz.
Jeonghan scoffed out a laugh, a mix of amusement and disbelief. “That’s my slogan?” he said, half to himself as if still wrapping his head around it.
Mingyu, sitting nearby, let out a sigh as he too came to terms with the situation. “We were only trying to be funny,” he said, shaking his head with a hint of playful regret.
It dawned on him that their slogan might end up being “Fart and Burp,” which made the room chuckle again at the absurdity.
[Flaw: fart & burp]
Luna, having enjoyed the playful atmosphere, turned to Joshua with a smile, the humor of the situation not lost on her. “Ours isn’t that bad,” she said lightly, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Joshua, always calm and composed, nodded in agreement. “I know, right?” he replied, sharing in her relief as they both realized they had managed to avoid the more embarrassing slogans.
Meanwhile, S.Coups, sitting with Woozi, grinned mischievously as he leaned toward his partner. “Let’s go with ‘Park Bo Gum’,” he joked, referencing the actor with a laugh.
Woozi, catching onto the joke, chuckled along. “Park Bo Gum,” he agreed, shaking his head.
PD Na, catching the banter between S.Coups and Woozi, raised his voice with a smile. “In case you decide it on your own, we chose it for you.”
At that moment, a couple of staff members appeared, stepping forward with name plaques for each team. These were folded pieces of paper with the teams' slogans written on them. As they placed the plaques on each team's table, the members eagerly reached for their signs.
Luna and Joshua picked up theirs, glancing down at the slogan they had unknowingly created. The two began chuckling at each other as they read it. The mix of humor and disbelief was clear on their faces.
“What is this?” Luna said between giggles, nudging Joshua lightly. “Doesn’t this make us sound so full of ourselves?”
Joshua, still holding the paper, gave a soft laugh. “No, it’s okay. It’s not that bad,” he said, reassuring her, though his grin suggested that he also found it a bit ridiculous.
Around the room, the members’ reactions were mixed. Some of them loved how funny and stupid their slogans were, clearly enjoying the lightheartedness. Others, like Jeonghan, Mingyu, and S.coups, were playfully whining and complaining, asking PD Na if they could change their slogans.
PD Na, of course, refused with a cheeky grin, only making the situation funnier. The playful complaints and reactions continued as the atmosphere remained full of laughter, with everyone leaning into the absurdity of the situation, preparing themselves for whatever quiz was coming next.
As soon as the laughter from their slogan reveals had subsided, it was time to test out their team slogans.
[Let's try your slogans]
First up were Seungkwan and Hoshi, sitting near the front of the set. With enthusiasm, the two tested their slogan brimming with energy. “Go Overboard For Show!” they shouted in unison, clearly embodying the spirit of their slogan.
PD Na chuckled, nodding approvingly. “Good job,” he praised, before moving his gaze to the next table. “Next… 1, 2, 3.”
Mingyu and Jeonghan, knowing what was coming, stifled a scoff before saying their slogan together, “Burp And Fart.” The entire room erupted into laughter, the absurdity of their slogan too much to contain.
Even PD Na couldn’t help but laugh. “Nice,” he said between chuckles, quickly composing himself before gesturing toward the next team. “1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down for Dino and Wonwoo, who sat straight in their seats.
“Drink Less And Talk More,” they chimed, their tones calm but clearly amused by their ridiculous motto.
PD Na, still amused, gave them a nod. “Good,” he said before glancing over at Vernon and Minghao’s table. “Alright… 1, 2, 3.”
“I Don’t Like Your Earrings,” Vernon and Minghao deadpanned, eliciting a fresh wave of laughter from everyone, especially PD Na, who found their flat delivery the funniest of all.
“But I like them,” Minghao shyly added, his hand instinctively touching his earrings with a proud smile.
Jun, sitting at the end of the line, leaned forward with a playful grin. “Their slogan is so short,” he pointed out, only adding to the light-hearted teasing.
“Aren’t they cool?” Minghao responded, still touching his earrings with a hint of uncertainty.
Luna nodded at him with a smirk. “It’s the coolest, so cool, Hao,” she said, her voice laced with amusement, drawing a grin from the quiet idol.
PD Na then turned to the next team, S.Coups and Woozi. “1, 2, 3.”
S.Coups and Woozi took a deep breath before reciting their overly elaborate slogan, “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him.”
The room burst into laughter yet again, S.Coups cringing at the overly dramatic line.
[He hates it]
“Their slogan is the worst one,” Luna commented between giggles, clearly enjoying the humor of it all.
PD Na moved on to the next team, now standing in front of Luna and Joshua’s table. He grinned as he counted down, “1, 2, 3.”
“We Are Too Perfect, It’s Annoying,” Luna and Joshua said in perfect sync, their voices full of mock arrogance, which sent the room into another wave of laughter.
The final team, DK and Jun, prepared themselves as PD Na gave the signal. “1, 2, 3.”
“I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily,” they said, prompting more snickers from the rest of the members.
As the slogans were finally revealed, the room continued to buzz with laughter and banter. Mingyu, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened, pointed at their team slogan and groaned. “Isn’t this worse?” he asked, half-laughing, half-complaining.
[Extremely stimulating]
“That’s something everyone does,” Dino chimed in, his tone a mix of logic and humor.
“The whole nation burps,” Seungkwan added in mock defense, his arms crossed as if presenting a valid point.
[He brings the whole nation into it]
“But it’s embarrassing,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head slightly with a small chuckle.
“It’s humiliating,” Mingyu followed, his voice teasing but still genuinely flustered. He laughed, his large frame shaking with the sound. “I feel like we’re still doing it.”
PD Na, amused by their antics, raised an eyebrow with a playful grin. “This will remain on YouTube forever,” he teased, making everyone laugh even harder.
Mingyu, not missing a beat, grinned mischievously as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to show my son later,” he joked, sending the group into yet another fit of laughter.
[That will create a distance between him and his son]
[They're going to play a game with these slogans]
The room was buzzing with anticipation as PD Na cleared his throat, grinning in that familiar, mischievous way that always meant something fun— and chaotic— was about to happen.
“Alright,” he announced. “It's time to reveal what game we’ll be playing.” He paused for effect before finally saying, “It's a music quiz.”
Immediately, the room exploded with excitement. The members clapped, voices overlapping as they reacted with gleeful energy.
“I love it!” Seungkwan exclaimed, dapping up with Hoshi who was equally as thrilled.
Jun, sitting a few seats down, gave a knowing nod. “This is what Seungkwan’s good at.”
Woozi chimed in, leaning back on his chair. “Seungkwan’s good at this,” he echoed, his calm demeanor not masking the playfulness in his tone.
[The member of Korea Music Copyright Association doesn't feel confident]
Luna chuckled, her head lowering slightly as she muttered to Joshua, “I’m terrible at this.”
Joshua, hearing her, chuckled too, shaking his head. “I am too,” he confessed, making Luna laugh even more at the mutual understanding of their inevitable failure.
[They are confident of their looks only]
“This is great!” Seungkwan nearly sang, his voice rising as he spoke, which Hoshi immediately mimicked, matching Seungkwan’s tone and enthusiasm, making everyone laugh again.
[The best players teamed up]
PD Na raised a hand, signaling for the members to settle down as he continued, now explaining the rules. “When I play the song, say your slogan. The first person is going to say the singer, and the next person has to say the title. Both people must get it right to win a point.”
The members listened attentively, some nodding here and there as they absorbed the instructions.
[For more details,they'll figure it out while playing]
PD Na wasn’t done. He leaned in, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “What matters the most,” he said slowly, “is the prize.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Both Jeonghan and Luna physically perked up in their seats, their curiosity now piqued. In perfect unison, they chorused, “Is there a prize?”
The two glanced at each other with matching smirks, clearly amused by their synchronized excitement. Luna leaned forward, catching Jeonghan’s gaze from across the room. He winked at her in reply, and she chuckled, shaking her head.
“What is it?” Minghao asked, voicing the curiosity that had taken over the room. His expression was intrigued, eager to know what the stakes were. “You’re spending a lot of money,” he added, his voice teasing but also genuinely curious.
Seungkwan, not missing a beat, grinned and gestured toward Hoshi, who was sitting beside him. “I get to play with a lucky boy today,” he said, referring to Hoshi, who had won both a Dyson hair dryer and a Korean beef set earlier in the previous game.
“I have Omega-3,” Mingyu pointed at Jeonghan with a laugh, alluding to Jeonghan's earlier answer in the previous quiz.
“I’m expecting something huge,” Seungkwan added, his excitement building as they all eagerly waited for PD Na to finally reveal what the prize would be.
[Here's the prize]
PD Na smiled, letting the suspense hang for just a moment longer before finally revealing, “It’s worth $1,000. For example, if you want something… we will pay for it.”
A wave of pleased reactions rippled through the room. The idea of a grand prize worth that much immediately captured everyone’s interest.
“For example,” PD Na continued, “two Dyson hair dryers. Then you can have one each.”
The members nodded, impressed by the prize's flexibility, but PD Na wasn’t done yet. “Or,” he added with a sly smile, “if it’s a mental wish, like something we can grant.”
[Producer Na's host coupon] [Or anything else we could grant]
With that, he handed out a piece of paper to each team, letting them know that they could write their prize of choice on it. The excitement in the room was palpable as the members huddled in their respective teams, whispering and muttering among themselves as they tried to come up with their wishes.
[Each team writes the prize they want and submit it]
[We'll give them a chance to pick one after mixing with 60 duds]
[Draw chances] [1st place, 5 times] [2nd place, 3 times] [3rd place, 2 times] [4th place, 1 time]
On the left side of the set, three teams began conspiring with each other. Woozi and S.Coups were the first to exchange glances and start scribbling something down, which caught Luna’s attention. She took a quick peek at their written wish and burst out laughing, trying to cover her mouth to keep it quiet.
“What?” Joshua whispered, leaning toward her curiously.
Luna, still chuckling, whispered something into Joshua’s ear, making him grin. Before they knew it, Dokyeom and Jun, who were seated nearby, had noticed the laughter and leaned in to join the conversation, their curiosity piqued by the sudden excitement.
Whatever the three teams were planning, it was clearly something mischievous, as they were all buzzing with excitement when they finally finished writing their wishes. Nobody else knew what had them so giddy, but it was clear that they were up to something.
Once all the teams had finished writing their wishes, they folded their papers and placed them into a small pouch filled with sixty duds.
PD Na reminded them, “If you pick someone else’s wish, you get to take it too.”
The members nodded in understanding, letting out a collective “oooh” in chorus, clearly intrigued by the added layer of fun.
“And the bonus prize,” PD Na announced, his voice rising with enthusiasm, “MHP: Most Hip Players.”
[The prize for most enthusiastic players]
This caused an even bigger stir among the members, their excitement peaking at the mention of a special bonus.
“You’ll get two chances,” PD Na added, watching as the members’ competitive spirits ignited.
Joshua nudged Luna playfully and said with a grin, “Jiyeon-ah, this is it.”
“Alright,” Luna chuckled, nodding in agreement.
[They aim for MHP]
“That’s our only hope,” Dokyeom murmured to Jun, clearly focused on the MHP title now.
“Can you win MHP?” Minghao asked Vernon, his expression filled with determination.
“Let’s do it,” Vernon replied, equally serious.
[They all want MHP more than 1st place]
Once the members heard about the bonus prize, they lost all sense of reality. The atmosphere shifted as whispers and hurried conversations filled the room. Everyone had their eyes on the special title now, scheming and strategizing in hushed tones.
[They're thinking about being funny when they have to solve the quiz]
[This is who SEVENTEEN is]
PD Na noticed the sudden surge of energy, chuckling as he watched the chaos unfold before him.
[We miscalculated the probability]
[This would bring a tremendous result]
[Their wish will be revealed after the game]
The air in the studio was thick with anticipation as the members of SEVENTEEN sat at the edge of their seats, eyes fixed on PD Na. Each one of them was ready, muscles tensed as if they were waiting for the starting signal of a race. The weight of the potential prize— and the glory of winning— hung heavily in the air.
[Music Quiz begins]
PD Na held up his hand, a sly grin on his face as he gestured toward the speakers. The tension built for a brief moment longer. And then, the faint sound of a song began to play— just the riser of the music, barely distinguishable.
[Here's Question #1]
For a second, everyone froze. Their ears perked, heads tilted slightly, straining to hear what song was coming up. The silence before the storm. Then, in a flash— almost too fast for the others to react— Seungkwan and Hoshi were already on their feet, hands shooting up in perfect sync as they screamed their slogan, "Go Overboard For Show!"
[As soon as the music plays]
Their voices rang out in unison, clear and loud, cutting through the silence. The room erupted in gasps, and the rest of the members could only watch in awe as the duo had beaten them to the punch, claiming the first chance to answer.
PD Na pointed at them, grinning. “Go Overboard For Show,” he said, “what’s your answer?”
Hoshi spoke first, his voice brimming with confidence. “SHINee,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
Without missing a beat, Seungkwan followed up with, “‘Sherlock,’” his voice triumphant as the answer left his lips.
PD Na smiled, nodding. “You got it.”
In an instant, the familiar chorus of SHINee's 'Sherlock' burst through the speakers. Without hesitating for even a second, Seungkwan and Hoshi exchanged a glance, grinning like they had just won the lottery, before they bolted toward the front of the room.
As if possessed by pure adrenaline, they started dancing, moving through the iconic choreography with precise, practiced ease. Their feet shuffled across the floor, arms swaying to the beat, while their voices echoed as they sang along to the chorus.
[Full of adrenaline]
The rest of the members watched, amused yet unsurprised by the duo’s exuberant display. It was as if this level of excitement had become routine with Seungkwan and Hoshi.
PD Na sat back, arms folded, a chuckle escaping his lips as he witnessed the lively performance unfold before him. There was something endearing about how they threw themselves into the song, as though they were back on stage performing for a stadium full of fans.
[Singing with passion]
By the time the chorus ended, Seungkwan and Hoshi struck a final pose, arms extended and chests puffed out dramatically as they finished their impromptu performance.
[The ending pose]
The room erupted into applause, a mixture of cheers and laughter filling the air. Both of them were out of breath, their faces flushed from the exertion, but their eyes sparkled with satisfaction.
“They’re trying to win MHP too,” PD Na remarked with a chuckle, watching as the two performers made their way back to their seats.
[Going overboard]
“They were good,” Wonwoo commented, nodding with genuine appreciation for their effort.
Vernon added, “It’s not easy to beat them.”
Seungkwan, still panting from his earlier display, pointed a finger playfully at the rest of the group. “How dare you challenge me for a music quiz?” he declared, though the smirk on his face betrayed his playful teasing.
PD Na chuckled, “You danced till you pant. You got 1 point.”
Seungkwan dramatically wiped an imaginary bead of sweat from his forehead. “I worked so hard, but it’s only 1 point,” he sighed with exaggerated exhaustion, making the rest of the members burst into laughter. “Still, thank you,” Seungkwan added, his tone mock-solemn, which only caused more giggles to ripple through the room.
PD Na sat up front, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched the energy simmering among the members. “Here’s the next question,” he announced, his voice clear and steady.
On cue, the intro of a familiar song began playing through the speakers, causing a ripple of recognition among the group. It was a sound that at least all of them recognized, and the reaction was immediate— chaotic, even.
[It's a mess]
Five out of the seven teams shot to their feet, shouting their slogans in unison, their voices overlapping in a cacophony of noise. Laughter echoed around the room as the teams scrambled, each one determined to be the first to claim the answer. It was a mess— arms flailing, chairs squeaking, slogans filling the air as they all fought for the spotlight.
But in the middle of the frenzy, the fastest to react was Mingyu and Jeonghan. Their team slogan, much shorter and quicker to yell, cut through the chaos first. “Burp And Fart!” Mingyu yelled, his voice carrying above the others.
[Fart was faster by a split second]
There was a brief moment of stunned silence as the absurdity of the slogan sunk in. PD Na chuckled, raising his hand to acknowledge their speed. “You have to admit that ‘Burp And Fart’ was fast,” he said, giving credit where it was due.
Mingyu, eager to seize the opportunity, raised his hand, ready to say the artist’s name. His confidence radiated off of him as he prepared to answer. But before the words could leave his mouth, Jeonghan beat him to it. “TWICE,” Jeonghan declared, his tone confident and sure.
A chain of reactions immediately followed. There were gasps, yells, wide eyes, and some stifled laughter. Most of the members knew right away that Jeonghan had made a mistake, and Mingyu's face was a picture of shock. His eyes snapped to Jeonghan, disbelief etched into his expression.
“No, it’s not,” Luna chuckled softly from her seat, clearly amused by Jeonghan’s bold but incorrect answer. She raised her hand, prepared to shout her team’s slogan, but before she could, another voice rang out.
[It's not TWICE]
“I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily!” Dokyeom yelled, practically leaping out of his chair.
[Hyenas never miss the chance]
PD Na nodded, signaling for Dokyeom to give his answer. “Who’s the singer?” he asked.
“STAYC,” Dokyeom answered confidently, and a beat later, Jun followed up, “'ASAP.'”
“You got it,” PD Na confirmed with a grin. Immediately, the chorus of STAYC’s ‘ASAP’ began to play, filling the room with the upbeat, catchy tune.
At once, most of the members, except for Mingyu, Jeonghan, S.Coups, Woozi, and Luna, leaped from their seats and rushed to the front. They began dancing to the song, their movements enthusiastic and playful as they mimicked the choreography with varying degrees of accuracy.
[People aiming for MHP barge in]
The sight of SEVENTEEN, one of the most skilled performance groups, dancing to a girl group song brought waves of laughter through the room.
Luna, though staying seated, couldn’t resist moving along. Her shoulders swayed and her head bobbed to the beat as she grinned, enjoying the show from her spot. She even mimicked some of the hand gestures, laughing as she watched her fellow members execute the choreo with varying levels of precision and commitment.
PD Na, also amused, watched from up front, grinning broadly at the chaotic yet endearing scene unfolding in front of him.
[He loves his job]
The members danced with wild abandon, some more committed than others, while PD Na’s chuckles mixed with the melody.
Luna, still seated, couldn’t contain her amusement as she continued to watch, occasionally throwing in a little dance move from her seat. Her eyes sparkled as she saw the members letting loose and having fun.
When the song’s chorus ended, the dancers made their way back to their seats, still out of breath but beaming with satisfaction. The air was filled with post-performance energy, the room buzzing with excitement and laughter.
“Good job,” Luna said, turning to Joshua with a smile.
Joshua, still catching his breath from the unexpected performance, grinned back at her. “Thanks.”
Nearby, Dokyeom turned to Jun, his face lit up with excitement. “We got the answer. This is great!” he said, the pride in his voice evident. Jun gave a satisfied nod, a small grin tugging at his lips as they both settled back into their seats, ready for the next round.
As the members settled back into their seats, catching their breath after the chaotic dance, PD Na turned his attention to Jeonghan, a playful grin on his face. “What did you say earlier?” he asked, chuckling lightly, clearly referencing Jeonghan's earlier mistake.
Completely unfazed, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair and shrugged, his expression cool as ever. “We said TWICE,” he answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
[Absurd]
“I see why you said that,” Hoshi chimed in, noticing the similarities between the artists' sounds. He leaned forward, his face lit with amusement.
Mingyu, on the other hand, was still pouting, his arms crossed as he pointed accusingly at Jeonghan. “He should’ve stayed quiet,” he muttered, his tone playful but clearly teasing his teammate for the mix-up.
Jeonghan, noticing Mingyu’s sulking, turned toward Hoshi, his eyes narrowing mischievously. “What’s this one?” he asked, his hands moving in the familiar choreography that had caused his confusion earlier.
Hoshi immediately recognized the dance. “‘TT,’” he answered, his voice confident.
Seungkwan, always quick to pick up on details, leaned forward with a knowing look. “Because it’s the same producer,” he added, offering a possible reason for Jeonghan’s mix-up.
[It makes sense]
Despite the teasing, Mingyu’s pout remained, his expression still exaggeratedly wounded.
[Sullen]
Jeonghan, quick to catch on, rolled his eyes at his younger teammate. “Sometimes I get confused, you fucking punk,” he said with his whole chest before suddenly poking Mingyu on the head with the pen he’d been fiddling with in his hand.
The unexpected cursing caused a ripple of laughter from the members while the action earned a shocked chuckle from Mingyu, his eyes wide with surprise at Jeonghan’s nonchalant attitude.
[It's okay. They're SEVENTEEN]
From across the room, Luna sat with her chin resting in her hand, watching the playful back-and-forth with a soft smile. Her gaze was warm as if she were watching her favorite movie unfold in front of her. She chuckled quietly to herself, thoroughly entertained by the banter between the two.
[Bunny no. 1 is having a blast]
Still laughing softly, Seungkwan asked, “Were you confused for real?” His tone was light, clearly enjoying the exchange.
Jeonghan, still chuckling, shook his head. “No, I had no idea,” he admitted, patting and affectionately rubbing the spot on Mingyu’s head where he’d poked him, trying to soothe the mock wound.
[Patting]
Mingyu, now recovering from his playful scolding, quickly explained, “We made a rule. I said I’d say the singer, so he could say the title.” His voice was animated, and he mimicked Jeonghan’s earlier moment of confusion with dramatic flair. “Then he was like, ‘TWICE.’”
Jeonghan laughed again, this time shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t hear that rule,” he claimed, still grinning from ear to ear. His casual demeanor made everyone laugh even harder, as it was clear Jeonghan was hardly concerned with the mistake.
“They’re perfect,” Wonwoo remarked, his voice low but full of amusement as he watched the duo.
Mingyu, now on his feet and ready to move on from the mix-up, turned to Jeonghan, determination in his eyes. “Do it right. Let’s win this,” he said firmly, though the playful tone in his voice remained.
“I’ll stay quiet,” Jeonghan promised, though the grin on his face suggested that staying quiet wasn’t something he was particularly good at.
The room filled with more laughter as the members shifted in their seats, the light-hearted moment helping to keep the mood playful as they prepared for the next question.
“Are you ready?” PD Na asked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he scanned the members. Before anyone could even think to respond, an older-sounding intro to a song started playing through the speakers, its melody both nostalgic and unfamiliar.
“Hurry up. Say it,” Jeonghan whispered to Mingyu, his voice mockingly urgent, clearly poking fun at his teammate.
Another beat passed, and suddenly, two teams shot up, hands raised as their slogans rang out across the room.
“Go Overboard For Show!” Hoshi yelled first, his voice booming as he raised his hand, eyes locked in determination.
“I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him!” S.Coups followed a millisecond later, his slogan loud and filled with energy.
PD Na chuckled as he acknowledged the faster group. “‘Overboard’ was faster,” he said, pointing at Hoshi and Seungkwan’s team, causing the others to groan in playful disappointment. “1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, gesturing for them to answer.
“(G)I-DLE,” Hoshi said confidently, his face glowing with anticipation.
“Wrong,” PD Na immediately responded, crushing Hoshi’s hopes as Seungkwan groaned loudly.
“Burp And Fart!” Jeonghan raised his hand suddenly, cutting through the noise with his usual confident flair.
[Jeonghan never holds back]
Luna, who had been watching the chaos unfold, immediately started laughing, recognizing Jeonghan’s usual antics. She could tell he was up to something.
Jeonghan, rather than giving an answer, turned to Mingyu, his expression overly serious. “Mingyu, you said you’d go first,” he said with mock urgency, calling out Mingyu’s earlier claim that he would be the one to answer first, fully knowing that Mingyu had no idea what the answer was.
Mingyu, caught off guard, could only chuckle in disbelief, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked, his voice filled with exasperation but laced with humor as the rest of the members erupted into laughter.
Luna, who was watching this unfold, couldn’t contain herself. She burst into loud, cackling laughter, her head dropping onto the table as she shook with amusement.
The song intro continued playing, the melody filling the room as the members strained to make sense of it. The confusion was palpable as they exchanged glances, waiting for something recognizable. Luna voiced what was on everyone’s mind. “What is that?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to place the unfamiliar sound.
[Going over the melody]
“I have a feeling the sound will change,” Seungkwan said thoughtfully, his face showing focus. And as if on cue, the beat shifted, surprising everyone and causing a ripple of excitement and even more confusion.
[Even the K-pop professor doesn't know]
“What’s that?” Jun exclaimed, his eyes widening at the unexpected change in tempo.
[It's a familiar melody]
“It sounds like Cool’s song,” S.Coups suggested, tilting his head in thought. He seemed half sure, yet the room was filled with uncertainty.
“How come we don’t know?” Seungkwan added, sounding both amused and exasperated by how elusive the song was.
“Is this an idol song?” Dokyeom asked, a mix of curiosity and frustration lining his voice.
Luna, more perceptive, tried to reason with them, “It’s probably an older song.” Her guess seemed reasonable, especially given how much the tune didn’t match the newer, trendy hits they usually heard.
The beat started to speed up, and the lively rhythm quickly filled the air. Some members started bobbing their heads up and down, following the tempo, while still trying to recognize the song. A few seemed to catch onto the melody but couldn’t quite place it.
For a few seconds, they just listened. The intro continued teasing them, dancing on the edge of familiarity but not quite crossing into recognition—until Dino suddenly stood up, surprising everyone. “Drink Less and Talk More!” he yelled their slogan with an air of confidence. Wonwoo stood up next to him, far quieter but no less determined.
PD Na acknowledged their attempt with a nod. “Drink Less and Talk More,” he repeated.
“Zaza,” Wonwoo said the artist’s name, eyes narrowing as he tried to be sure.
“‘Inside the Bus,’” Dino quickly followed up with the song title.
“No,” PD Na said, shooting them down, and both Dino and Wonwoo sat back down, shaking their heads as the others laughed.
[It's a completely different song]
The song continued playing, growing more familiar to some and just as confusing to the others. Half the members looked frustrated as if the answer was just out of reach, while the rest looked utterly clueless, lost in the unfamiliar melody.
[They're in an unfavorable situation]
“People who know must be frustrated,” Seungkwan said, glancing around the room, his voice tinged with a hint of defeat.
“How come I don’t know this song?” S.Coups muttered to himself, clearly baffled.
PD Na was watching the chaos with amused eyes when he caught sight of Minghao craning his head toward their staff, clearly looking for clues.
Chuckling, he called him out. “The8, what are you looking at? What’s there?” His voice carried light amusement as the members turned their attention to Minghao, who was now trying to act innocent.
[Cheating straight up]
“I have no idea,” Minghao responded, his voice cool and nonchalant, though everyone knew he was up to something.
“The song is almost over,” Luna said with a sigh, clearly on the verge of giving up on this round. Her tone carried the same resigned frustration the others felt.
[The 1st verse is nearly over]
“We have no idea,” Minghao echoed, his words summing up the group’s collective bewilderment.
PD Na glanced around the room with a playful grin. “You all have a chance,” he said, encouraging the members as they remained perplexed by the song’s difficulty.
Without missing a beat, Jeonghan raised his hand, his tone casual but determined. “Can I try? Burp and Fart!” he called out his team’s quirky slogan, causing a few giggles to ripple through the room. PD Na pointed at him, giving him the floor.
[Burp raises his hand]
“Cool,” Jeonghan said confidently, standing up, naming the artist before Mingyu followed suit, standing up beside him and guessing, “‘Fate.’”
“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, and Jeonghan clapped nonchalantly, as though it was no big deal. Mingyu, on the other hand, was thrilled. He grabbed Jeonghan and dragged him to the front as the song’s chorus began to play.
[They got up to celebrate]
“What are we doing?” Jeonghan asked, letting himself be pulled along with little resistance. They linked their hands in a dramatic, over-the-top gesture and began to dance, a messy combination of jitterbug, waltz, and salsa. Their steps were comically uncoordinated, sending waves of laughter through the room.
[Jitterbug]
“Yes, we’re meant to be,” Mingyu declared, continuing to twirl Jeonghan around, who barely moved and only lazily followed his lead, adding to the absurdity of the dance.
“Yeah, it’s great,” Jeonghan said, nodding in mock enthusiasm as Mingyu kept the energy high.
From their seats, Seungkwan yelled, “Burp and fart, please!” teasing the duo who had now taken their choreography to even more ridiculous heights.
[We'll stop here for their reputation]
Finally, after the chorus ended, Jeonghan and Mingyu slowly walked back to their seats, laughter filling the room.
“I guessed, but it was still right,” Mingyu said, breathless but satisfied as he glanced at Jeonghan.
Jeonghan gave him a small nod of approval, still calm and composed as if the whole spectacle hadn’t happened.
[Team Burp And Fart got lucky]
“Next,” PD Na said, as a new song immediately began playing, its intro familiar to at least half of the group.
[Here is the next question]
Before anyone else could react, Luna stood up confidently, raising her hand with a triumphant declaration, “We’re Too Perfect, It’s Annoying!” Her quick movement surprised Joshua, who sat next to her, clearly unsure of the answer, his eyes widening in shock as he realized they had to answer together.
[Shocked deer]
“Yes, your answer?” PD Na acknowledged their team by pointing at them.
Luna barely glanced at Joshua, sensing his hesitation, before confidently announcing, “SUNMI” The members nodded, some clearly recognizing the song, but the real trick came right after.
Luna, with her back suddenly turned toward PD Na, slyly faced Joshua and mouthed the answer, “‘Gashina’,” while performing the song’s iconic finger-gun hand movement, signaling the choreo that would give it away. Joshua caught on quickly, chuckling at her not-so-secret tactics.
[What are they doing?]
The members noticed but said nothing, instead laughing quietly at Luna’s subtle cheating, particularly Jeonghan, whose smirk had grown into a proud, delighted grin. He always appreciated clever tricks like this.
Joshua, now filled with newfound confidence, stood up straight and said, “‘Gashina’.”
“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, unaware of Luna’s discreet coaching. As the song’s chorus filled the room, Luna and Joshua exchanged a quick celebration.
“Nice,” Luna said in english, high-fiving Joshua, who responded with, “Let’s go.”
Seungkwan, from his seat, tilted his head and scoffed with a laugh. “She’s shameless, really,” he teased, watching the two head to the front for their victory dance.
As the chorus of Sunmi’s ‘Gashina’ played, Luna took her position in the center, exuding confidence, while Joshua stayed a few steps behind, clearly reluctant to dance. “Come here,” Luna called, waiting for the iconic drop in the beat.
“I don’t know the dance!” Joshua laughed but cheered her on from a distance.
The second the beat hit, Luna’s demeanor completely shifted. Her body moved fluidly to the music, her sharp yet graceful movements perfectly matching the song’s energy.
[Scary shift]
She nailed the signature choreo — the finger-gun gesture aimed directly ahead, followed by the sharp turn and strut that Sunmi made famous. The members cheered loudly from the back, fully absorbed in Luna’s performance.
When the chorus ended, Luna gave a small bow, grinning as the members clapped and whistled in approval. She headed back to her seat, a satisfied look on her face.
As she crossed paths with Joshua, she pouted playfully, “Ya! You left me.”
Joshua chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they made their way back. “No, I was there. You did well.” They both sat back down, still sharing the buzz of excitement from their win.
[What's the next question?]
The next round began, and all the members sat in anticipation, waiting for the song to play. As the intro of the new song echoed through the room, Dino’s hand shot up almost instantly, cutting through the initial few beats. “Drink Less And Talk More!” he shouted their team slogan with a burst of excitement. His sudden reaction caused everyone to turn toward him, their faces full of confusion.
PD Na acknowledged them, pointing to Dino’s team. “Drink Less And Talk More,”
“SEVENTEEN,” Dino confidently said, as if the artist was obvious.
At this, the rest of SEVENTEEN looked at each other, their confusion deepening. Was it really one of their songs?
[It's SEVENTEEN's song?]
“‘CLAP,’” Wonwoo stood up and declared the title with a surety that baffled the rest of the members even more.
PD Na, smiling knowingly, confirmed, “You got it.”
[It was 'CLAP'?]
Cheers erupted from Dino and Wonwoo, but the rest of the group remained frozen in place, looking at each other as though they had all missed some crucial detail.
“It’s ‘CLAP’?” Jun asked in disbelief, his voice echoing the collective confusion.
“How was that ‘CLAP’?” Luna asked, her brows furrowed as she tried to connect the intro they had heard to the familiar SEVENTEEN track.
“‘CLAP’?” Dokyeom repeated, looking equally lost.
“Why is it ‘CLAP’?” Jun asked again, glancing around as though someone else could provide the answer.
[Puzzled]
S.Coups and Joshua both suddenly straightened up, their eyes lighting up with realization. “It’s in the beginning of the music video,” they chorused, their voices overlapping in understanding.
Vernon groaned and stood up, pointing dramatically at PD Na. “Oh, the music… the music video,” he whined, realizing that the intro had been the sound effect used at the start of the ‘CLAP’ music video, not the main song itself.
The realization dawned on the rest of the group just as Dino and Wonwoo continued dancing to their own song.
[Despite the chaos they continue celebrating]
The chorus of ‘CLAP’ filled the room, and while the two danced excitedly in front, some of the other members started doing the choreography from their seats, unable to resist joining in despite their lingering confusion.
When the song ended, Dino and Wonwoo made their way back to their seats, satisfied with their win, grinning at the members who were still recovering from the surprise.
As soon as Dino and Wonwoo settled back into their seats, PD Na addressed them with a playful smile, “Congratulations to Drink Less And Talk More. The rest of you, what happened?”
Vernon was the first to jump in, pointing accusingly at PD Na, “That was the music video version!”
Woozi, shaking his finger thoughtfully, nodded in agreement. “That’s not the original music,” he reasoned, his tone carrying just a hint of disbelief.
Dino, still buzzing with the excitement of their win, elaborated, “In the music video, Woozi is standing in front of a store.”
“Right,” Vernon and Luna echoed, nodding along as they finally made sense of the confusion.
Vernon, still baffled by the trickery, repeated, “It’s the music video version.” He was clearly not over it yet, but his grin gave away his amusement.
PD Na shrugged, unfazed. “Someone still got it.”
Vernon chuckled in reluctant acceptance. “You’re right.”
At that, Jun raised his hand apologetically, his voide deep as he chukled, “Sorry. It’s our fault. Sorry.”
The room broke into laughter, the light-heartedness quickly spreading as PD Na turned to Woozi, who produced the song. “Woozi, what happened?”
Woozi chuckled before responding. “Since someone still got it, I can’t argue. If no one got it, I can try to argue. But since you got it, I have nothing to say,” he joked, eliciting even more laughter.
Hoshi leaned over to Seungkwan, muttering under his breath, “I thought it was (G)I-DLE.”
“We filmed the music video a long time ago,” Woozi explained, shaking his head as if recalling the time that had passed since then.
Minghao chimed in, looking at Dino with playful admiration. “Dino monitors music videos often. No wonder you were good at it.”
Seungkwan, never one to miss a chance to tease, leaned forward and declared with exaggerated seriousness, “Now that you all had a chance, we won’t cut you any slack anymore.”
His comment made Luna point at him and chuckle. Seungkwan’s playful competitiveness was always a source of amusement for her.
PD Na, watching the banter unfold, informed them with a knowing smile, “We got the music from everywhere.”
[There will be all kinds of songs]
The group nodded in understanding, now fully aware that they couldn’t rely on just the original versions of the songs anymore.
[Next song]
As they waited for the next song to play, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation.
[As soon as it plays]
Then, a very familiar tune began to fill the room, immediately prompting all the teams, except S.Coups and Woozi, to spring to their feet. Hands shot into the air, slogans echoed in unison, but it was Seungkwan and Hoshi who were quickest.
“Go Overboard For Show!” Hoshi shouted triumphantly, earning an acknowledgment from PD Na, who pointed at them, waiting for their answer.
[Hoshi was accurate and fast]
“NewJeans,” Hoshi announced confidently, naming the artist.
“‘Hype Boy,’” Seungkwan added, already walking to the front with Hoshi before PD Na could even confirm, “You got it.”
As soon as they reached the center, the chorus started playing, and the two immediately began dancing in perfect sync, effortlessly hitting each move with the same energetic precision. The lively beat had an infectious effect— Minghao started dancing in his seat, and Vernon and Dino soon joined Hoshi and Seungkwan up front, effortlessly blending into the choreography.
[It's fun to play together]
Meanwhile, the rest of the group watched, with some dancing and singing along in their seats.
“How do they know everything?” S.Coups muttered, watching them with a mix of awe and amusement.
“I know,” Joshua agreed, equally impressed.
Jun, not to be outdone, added, “How are they good at it? They’re good.”
At the same time, without even trying, Luna and Dokyeom harmonized softly to the lyrics, “‘You know, I hype you, boy’,” their voices blending perfectly in unison.
PD Na, watching the scene with a grin, commented aloud, “You’re good. Why is that team so good?”
When the song ended, the group cheered, applauding Seungkwan and Hoshi as they made their way back to their seats.
Dino, still buzzing from the excitement, turned to PD Na with an expectant grin, “Do I get MHP?”
[They're ahead of everything]
“What?” PD Na asked, raising an eyebrow.
Before Dino could repeat himself, Jeonghan, ever the calm one, chimed in lazily, “It’ll be announced at the end.”
Dino nodded in understanding, though he looked eager for the results.
With a playful tone, PD Na then looked over at Jeonghan and Mingyu and teased, “Team ‘Burp And Fart’, you’re not likely to win MHP.”
Considering the fact that Jeonghan and Mingyu had been sitting out for most of the game, his comment was met with laughter from the group.
Jeonghan and Mingyu, however, only nodded in agreement. Jeonghan, ever laid-back, responded casually, “It’s okay. We’ll do our best to answer it.”
Mingyu, more serious, added with determination, “We’ll focus on the question.”
As the room fell silent, everyone waited for the next song. The moment the first beat dropped, Seungkwan was already on his feet, shouting their team slogan: “Go Overboard For Show!” The rest of the members could only gape in amazement at how fast he was.
[Seungkwan is dominant]
Hoshi stood up slowly next to him, struggling to recall the song’s title. “Gosh, wait,” Hoshi muttered under his breath, still trying to piece it together.
PD Na acknowledged them by pointing in their direction, and Seungkwan quickly blurted out the title to help his teammate, “‘Full Moon’!”
That was all Hoshi needed. “SUNMI!” Hoshi yelled, his face lighting up with recognition.
Just as Seungkwan was sprinting to the front, confident in their victory, PD Na’s voice rang out: “Wrong.”
Seungkwan collapsed dramatically onto the ground, completely shocked, and instantly, there was a loud chorus of yells from all the teams, trying to steal the answer. Both Luna and Joshua were among the first to raise their hands, but in their haste, they both forgot their team slogan, which made everyone laugh.
[Serious about stealing]
Vernon, however, shouted from the back, “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” catching everyone off guard. PD Na turned to acknowledge their team.
“SUNMI,” Vernon confidently said, naming the artist. Minghao, picking up from there, added the correct title, “‘Full Moon.’”
Meanwhile, Dokyeom was leaning over to explain to a confused Jun why Hoshi and Seungkwan got it wrong. “You have to say the singer first,” Dokyeom said, giving Jun a knowing look.
“Aigo, that was a waste,” Luna muttered, shaking her head sympathetically at Hoshi and Seungkwan’s mistake.
PD Na nodded, smiling at Vernon and Minghao. “You got it.”
Realization dawned on Hoshi as he turned to Seungkwan. “Oh, I have to say the singer first,” he muttered, still processing their blunder.
The song began to play, and Vernon and Minghao danced to the few steps they knew, looping the same moves over and over again, causing the entire group to erupt in laughter.
[They repeat what they know]
“That’s all I know,” Vernon admitted with a shy smile, his usual confidence melting into humility.
“They’re so cute,” Luna commented, watching with a fond grin as the two shyly continued dancing.
As Minghao and Vernon made their way back to their seats, Seungkwan suddenly dashed up to the front and sang a quick part of the song, making everyone laugh even harder. “‘Perfect weather can’t get no better,’” he sang, dramatically bowing before retreating back to his seat.
[Leaving quickly]
“Did you go out there just to do that?” Hoshi asked Seungkwan with a chuckle.
Once everyone settled back down, Seungkwan, still curious, turned to PD Na. “Is it always the singer’s name first?” he asked.
PD Na nodded. “Yes, then you’re more likely to get it wrong. You might accidentally give away a hint with the title.”
“How did you know it was ‘Full Moon’?” Hoshi asked Seungkwan, still amazed by his teammate’s quick thinking.
Seungkwan simply shrugged, flashing a confident smile. “I know everything.”
[He answers all questions in less than a second]
“It’s impossible to beat Seungkwan in this game,” Mingyu said, shaking his head in disbelief.
[Next question]
The room was filled with anticipation as the next song prepared to play. Just as the riser barely touched the air, Seungkwan leaped to his feet once more, quickly followed by a bewildered Hoshi.
“Go Overboard For Show!” Seungkwan yelled with his usual energy. The other members could only watch in disbelief.
[He got it right away]
“This isn’t fair,” Mingyu muttered, shaking his head in resignation.
“He’s monopolizing,” Woozi added, half-amused, half-astonished.
“I didn’t even realize it played,” Luna said, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“How do you know?” Dokyeom and Jun chimed in unison, staring at Seungkwan as if he had some magical insight.
Seungkwan gave Hoshi a nudge, whispering, “You go first.”
“Who is it?” PD Na counted down, “1, 2, 3.”
“TOMORROW X TOGETHER!” Seungkwan blurted out the artist’s name, his arm wrapped around Hoshi in encouragement, hoping he’d get the title right.
“‘Run For You’? Is it?” Hoshi said hesitantly, clearly unsure, his confusion spreading across the room.
A wave of laughter broke out. “Run for who? Who’s you?” Seungkwan teased Hoshi, trying to contain his own laughter.
Vernon shot up to steal the chance, “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!”
“TXT,” Minghao said confidently, followed by Vernon who guessed the title, “‘Run To Me.’”
“Wrong!” PD Na said with a chuckle.
[The answer is 'Run Away']
Mingyu quickly raised his hand, jumping in. “Burp And Fart!” he shouted, the room filling with amusement.
“TXT,” Jeonghan said the artist’s name before Mingyu followed up with another guess, “‘Running For You.’”
“Wrong,” PD Na replied again.
[They have no clue]
“Sorry, TXT,” Mingyu apologized, laughing as the absurdity of it all sank in.
At this point, everyone was shouting out random guesses, trying their luck. Dino and Wonwoo were next, springing to their feet.
“Drink Less And Talk More!” Dino declared as PD Na turned to them.
“TXT,” Wonwoo said calmly.
“‘Running To You,’” Dino guessed.
“Wrong!” PD Na replied yet again.
It was chaos now, as S.Coups raised his hand with a determined look. “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him,” he said their team slogan.
“TXT,” Woozi said, and then pointed to S.Coups for the title.
“‘Run… To You’?” S.Coups guessed.
“Wrong!” PD Na said, shaking his head.
Luna raised her hand, calling out her team slogan to try next. “We’re Too Perfect, It’s Annoying!”
“TXT,” Joshua said the artist’s name.
“‘Running With You,’” Luna guessed, hoping they were close this time.
“Wrong!” PD Na said once more, making Luna sigh in frustration. “What is happening?” she deadpanned, turning to Joshua, who could only chuckle in response.
[They are tired of running]
Dokyeom and Jun were the last ones who hadn’t tried yet.
[If they get it wrong,everyone gets a chance again]
“TXT,” Jun said, preparing to throw his hat in the ring.
“‘I Will Be Running For You,’” Dokyeom added with cautious optimism.
“You’re close!” PD Na said, making everyone sit up a little straighter.
Seungkwan, still determined, stood up and yelled their slogan again, “Go Overboard For Show!”
“TXT,” Seungkwan announced once more, and Hoshi finally, with newfound certainty, said, “‘Run Away’!”
[Perfect answer]
“You got it!” PD Na confirmed, and the room erupted in cheers.
Seungkwan and Hoshi made their way to the front, where they broke into the choreography for ‘Run Away’, the other members watching in amusement. Seungkwan took the lead with confidence, effortlessly dancing and singing along to the key movements of the choreography.
Hoshi, however, was a little more spontaneous— making things up as he went, copying Seungkwan’s steps on the fly while improvising in his usual comedic style.
[Free dance]
Vernon, watching from his seat, couldn’t help but laugh, pointing at Hoshi as he commented, “He doesn’t know.” The other members chuckled along, entertained by Hoshi’s attempts to keep up with Seungkwan.
Seungkwan, though, was in full control of the performance, his moves sharp and perfectly timed with the music, while Hoshi followed along, creating a hilarious contrast. The sight of the two dancing in sync— yet slightly off— had everyone grinning and clapping.
[No matter what Seungkwan does, he can copy it on the spot]
As the song ended, Seungkwan dramatically scooped Hoshi up, carrying him away as they both laughed and headed back to their seats. The room filled with cheers and applause, their teammates playfully shouting their names in encouragement.
[Next song]
As soon as the next song’s intro filled the area, Seungkwan shot up to his feet, shouting their team’s slogan, “Go Overboard For Show!” Hoshi hesitantly stood up next to him, looking petrified because he clearly didn’t recognize the tune.
The other members gaped at Seungkwan, stunned by his quick reflexes.
“What are you?” Jeonghan asked Seungkwan in disbelief.
[K-pop professor]
Luna giggled, pointing at Hoshi who stood frozen. “Hoshi doesn’t know.”
Seungkwan clapped his hands together once, his face tense as he physically struggled to remember the answer. “It’s that song… Jeonghan… Jiyeonie noona…” he muttered, his brain visibly working overtime as he pointed at Luna, drawing confused laughter from the group.
Both Luna and Jeonghan raised their eyebrows, confused by Seungkwan’s mention of their names. Luna leaned back, arms crossed.
[They are just as confused]
“What was it again?” Seungkwan asked her, still trying to guess the answer.
[Shamelessly asks her for the answer]
“How should I know? I didn’t hear it well, and even if I did, why would I tell you?” Luna shot back, making the whole group erupt in laughter.
Realizing he was stuck, Seungkwan chuckled and grabbed Hoshi’s arm, dragging him back to their seats in defeat.
[Gives up]
The song played again, and this time, Luna and Jeonghan both visibly lit up, saying “Ah” at the same time as the familiar tune clicked. The other members exchanged looks, starting to recognize the melody, but since it was in English, they hesitated on how to answer.
“Ah,” Luna smiled, raising her hand and calling out their team slogan, “We’re Too Perfect, It’s Annoying.”
PD Na pointed at her, acknowledging their team’s turn. Luna turned to Joshua, leaning closer to whisper, “Do you know the answer?”
Joshua nodded confidently, raising his hand to indicate he’d go first. “Ellie Goulding,” he said with certainty.
“‘Love Me Like You Do,’” Luna answered, her British accent adding flair to the title.
A few members playfully mimicked Joshua’s LA accent and Luna’s British one, as PD Na said, “You got it!”
Seungkwan groaned, “I knew the song, but I wasn’t sure of the title. Noona covered it before,” he whined.
Luna had indeed covered ‘Love Me Like You Do’ nearly two years ago, and it had become one of the most beloved videos among her fans. Her rendition was hauntingly beautiful, showcasing her powerful voice and emotional depth, and it was a favorite amongst their fanbase.
Joshua reached out, taking Luna’s hand to pull her up to the center. “There’s no dance to this,” she protested with a lighthearted chuckle.
“It’s okay,” Joshua reassured her as he twirled her around playfully.
[Improvising]
When the chorus played, the members all sang loudly, but in a teasing, over-the-top way, making everyone laugh.
[The most excited they have ever been]
Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Dokyeom suddenly stood up and began dancing playfully right in front of Jeonghan, their faces filled with mischievous smiles as they dragged him to join them.
Luna, still dancing with Joshua, didn’t notice at first.
Joshua had a teasing glint in his eyes as he looked over Luna’s shoulder. With a playful spin, he turned her around to face Jeonghan, who had been pulled up front.
Unseen by the cameras, Luna shot a warning look at Seungkwan, Hoshi, Joshua, and Dokyeom, silently telling them not to be too obvious.
Unbeknownst to the world, after Luna had covered the song, Jeonghan had half-jokingly, half-seriously told the members that this should be their wedding song— a detail that only made this moment more comical for those in the know.
The song ended with the sound of applause, and Luna and Joshua headed back to their seats. As she sat down, Luna felt eyes on her and looked up, locking gazes with Jeonghan from across the room. His eyes were focused, soft, with a silent understanding passing between them. It was as if they were having an entire conversation without saying a word.
After a moment, Jeonghan winked at her, causing Luna to blush slightly before she quickly looked away, her heart racing.
[The next question is for the world that only remembers 1st place]
“Let’s start,” PD Na said, signaling the beginning of the next round. The members settled back into their seats, waiting for the next song to play. As soon as a beat echoed through the room, Seungkwan and Hoshi sprang to their feet. At this point, the rest of the members weren’t even surprised.
[Overwhelming speed]
“Go Overboard For Show!” Seungkwan shouted with determination, while Hoshi clutched his head, clearly in pain trying to recall the song. The energy shifted, the others watching as the two fought to piece together the answer.
“1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, adding to the tension.
“I’ll say it. Wait,” Hoshi muttered, his brows furrowed as he seemed to dig deep into his memory, everyone waiting in suspense.
Finally, there was a beat of silence before Hoshi blurted, “BoA.”
Without missing a beat, Seungkwan followed, “’NO.1’!”
PD Na blinked, his expression confused. “Wrong.”
The two stood there, dumbfounded, shocked that they might’ve gotten it wrong. But PD Na quickly shook his head, realization dawning on his face. “I mean, you got it.” He chuckled, and the rest of the members joined in, laughing at the slight slip-up.
Seungkwan and Hoshi moved up front, ready to perform the dance. As they grabbed each other’s hands, they started spinning around dramatically, clearly enjoying their victory.
“We did this before,” S.Coups said from his seat, referring to the time they had covered this iconic BoA dance as a group.
“Didn’t we do this dance?” Wonwoo added, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
[You totally did]
The chorus kicked in, but both Seungkwan and Hoshi visibly hesitated, their movements buffering as they tried to recall the choreography. They began doing random dance moves in unison, clearly lost.
[He barely remembers it]
“That’s ‘Candy’!” S.Coups pointed out, recognizing the choreography from an entirely different song.
Seungkwan, realizing they were floundering, suddenly started doing BLACKPINK’s ‘DDU-DU DDU-DU’ gun dance instead, causing an uproar of laughter as Hoshi, always quick on his feet, followed suit.
[DDU-DU?]
“‘Hit you with that DDU-DU DDU-DU,’” Seungkwan sang, throwing himself into the new routine, which only made everyone laugh harder.
[HYBE artist brings SM and YG together]
“He’s good at that,” Luna chuckled, watching them fondly from her seat, her eyes shining with amusement.
Seungkwan and Hoshi, realizing they’d lost all hope of remembering the original dance, gave up entirely. Instead, they started following the jib camera, performing as if they were shooting a dramatic music video, serenading the camera with exaggerated expressions.
[Seungkwan and Hoshi love the jimmy jib]
As the song ended, everyone clapped enthusiastically for the two, and the room filled with the sound of applause and cheers.
“Good job,” Minghao said with a grin as the two made their way back to their seats, both out of breath.
“We performed this song, but I can’t remember,” Seungkwan confessed, panting as he sat down.
Luna chuckled softly. “Your dance was better,” she teased.
Hoshi leaned toward Seungkwan, still catching his breath. “I almost got confused with S.E.S. I wasn’t sure if it was S.E.S. or BoA.”
The two shared a look, realizing how close they’d been to getting it wrong but also reveling in their playful performance as they rejoined the rest of the group.
As the next round began, the room fell into a quiet anticipation. The group listened intently, awaiting the song that would determine the next winners.
[A special question for Woozi]
Suddenly, a couple of familiar drum beats filled the air, and chaos erupted. Almost all the teams, except for S.Coups and Woozi, shot up from their seats. Dino and Wonwoo were the first to raise their hands and shout their slogan, though their voices got lost in the overlapping chorus of yells as the members all tried to shout over one another. Woozi remained seated, completely confused as he observed the spectacle unfolding around him.
In the middle of the commotion, Luna quickly raised her hand. In unison with Joshua, she shouted, “Me!” while Joshua yelled his own name, “Joshua!” Both of them got so caught up in the excitement that they completely forgot their slogan.
[What?]
“Drink Less and Talk More!” Dino yelled, his voice the clearest and fastest as he stood up alongside Wonwoo, who quietly followed suit.
Luna chuckled when she realized their mistake, grabbing the name tag paper from the table and playfully smacking Joshua with it. “Ya! We forgot the slogan,” she said, still laughing, as Joshua joined in, chuckling at their blunder.
“Team Drink Less and Talk More was faster,” PD Na confirmed with a nod.
“SEVENTEEN,” Dino said, confidently giving their own group name.
“‘FML,’” Wonwoo followed, delivering the title of their own song with equal confidence.
Mingyu, unsure of himself, stood up and said, “Burp and Fart,” as if expecting it to be wrong.
“No? It is,” Dino said, a bit confused but reassured by the reaction around him.
“You got it,” PD Na confirmed with a smile, giving Dino the win.
“Oh, you got it.” Mingyu said, shocked at Dino’s correct answer.
['FML' by SEVENTEEN]
[The double title song of SEVENTEEN's 10th mini album]
Dino and Wonwoo celebrated, heading up to the front as Woozi threw his head back in defeat, realizing that he was the only one who didn’t recognize their own song— especially a song he had produced himself.
Both Dino and Wonwoo started vibing to the song in front, the music filling the air. Since the song had no official choreography, the members were shocked at the sight.
“This isn’t even out yet,” Vernon said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.
“This song has no choreography,” Joshua pointed out, looking amused.
Dino, however, was completely in his element. He walked around with a sort of drunken swagger, while Wonwoo awkwardly paused to watch as Dino laid down dramatically on the ground, making the whole group laugh.
[He lied down]
Vernon stood up, making his way over to Dino, and gently pulled down Dino’s shirt, which had risen up during his dramatic flop to the floor.
Seungkwan, never one to miss an opportunity, walked up front and started acting like he and Dino were in a skit, playing along with Dino’s antics. He knelt beside Dino, patting his leg. “Sir, I called the chauffeur service. You should go home,” Seungkwan said in a concerned voice, making everyone burst into laughter.
“Just a bit more,” Dino played along, slurring his words like he was actually drunk.
“You can’t lie down here,” Seungkwan continued, keeping the act going.
“Just one more bottle,” Dino said again, playing the role to perfection.
“I already called the chauffeur service,” Seungkwan sighed, pulling him up and getting more laughs from the group.
“Let me just get the razor,” Dino joked as he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
“I’ll get you the razor,” Seungkwan responded, still in character.
“Okay,” Dino said, and they walked away, continuing the act.
“I already ordered it. I ordered six blades,” Seungkwan added, patting Dino on the back, keeping the joke going until the whole group was laughing uncontrollably.
“That goes perfectly with the song,” Dokyeom said, clapping his hands in amusement at the skit they had just performed.
PD Na, still laughing himself, turned to Woozi, who was chuckling in disbelief at his own failure. “Woozi,” PD Na said, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
“Woozi had no idea,” S.Coups added, teasing his fellow member.
“I’m in vain,” Woozi sighed, shaking his head.
“Because I have a lot of old-school samples, I thought it was something else,” Woozi explained, trying to defend himself. “I knew I was wrong. I was like, ‘Oh, right.’”
[Losing his mind]
Seungkwan and Luna, who had been watching the entire exchange, spoke in unison. “It hasn’t been released yet,” they said, sympathizing with Woozi’s confusion.
“I never expected it,” Vernon agreed, nodding along.
“I never saw it coming because it’s not released yet,” Woozi said again, shaking his hand in disbelief.
“And this has no choreography,” Wonwoo reminded everyone with a small smile.
“We haven’t practiced the choreography yet,” Vernon added, backing him up.
Woozi repeated once more, “This isn’t released yet. I never saw it coming.”
“He has an excuse for everything,” S.Coups teased, making the room erupt in laughter again.
“Stop. You talk too much. Too many excuses,” Seungkwan deadpanned, playfully shutting Woozi down, causing the whole group, including Woozi, to laugh even harder. Woozi threw his head back, laughing in defeat, realizing there was no escaping the teasing that day.
“Next question,” PD Na announced, his voice cutting through the lingering laughter.
[12th question]
The music for the next round began, and within just a few beats, chaos broke out. Every member shot up from their seats, hands in the air, shouting their slogans, eager to claim the answer.
[They all raise their hands quickly]
But Vernon and Minghao were the fastest.
“I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” Vernon called out, the speed of his response leaving everyone else in the dust.
“I Don’t Like Your Earrings,” PD Na acknowledged with a nod.
“G-DRAGON and Taeyang,” Minghao said confidently.
“‘Good Boy,’” Vernon finished the answer with the song title.
“You got it,” PD Na confirmed, allowing the duo to take the stage for the performance.
Minghao and Vernon moved to the front, preparing for the dance. “That was so easy,” Woozi whined from his seat, his expression one of playful regret.
“You might as well do your best,” Seungkwan urged them, referring to the iconic choreography they were about to perform.
“This is what we should’ve gotten,” Woozi groaned, feeling the sting of missing out on such a well-known song.
The familiar opening lines played, and the energy in the room shifted. As the lyrics ‘Put your hands in the air’ echoed through the speakers, everyone in the room followed suit, raising their hands in perfect sync with the words.
“‘How y’all feeling out there?’” Hoshi growled dramatically, mimicking the ad-libs, drawing laughter from the group.
“We even know the ad-libs,” Seungkwan commented, sounding impressed at their collective enthusiasm.
As the song progressed, Vernon and Minghao bounced along to the beat, getting ready for the iconic chorus dance. The rest of the members were already singing along, hyping up the two performers at the front. Some of the members, bopping in their seats, were already on their feet, fully immersed in the song.
As the chorus neared, Vernon and Minghao spun around, their movements hyping up the rest of the group. They danced with ease, executing the iconic choreo to perfection. Behind them, a few of the other members followed along, mimicking the moves, while the rest sang along, doing ad-libs and enjoying the moment.
When the beat dropped and the chorus hit, the room was filled with energy. Minghao and Vernon performed the dance flawlessly, while the rest cheered, some joining in with the choreography. The atmosphere was electric, as everyone got caught up in the nostalgic excitement of the song.
As the song ended, the members clapped and cheered, their applause loud and enthusiastic as Vernon and Minghao returned to their seats, looking pleased.
“They were great,” Dokyeom commented, still clapping.
“That was cool,” PD Na added, clearly impressed by their performance.
“I should’ve gotten that one,�� Woozi lamented again, shaking his head.
“I underestimated Team Earrings,” PD Na teased, turning to Woozi and S.Coups’ team. “I thought you’d barely get any, but you’re doing better than I expected— whereas Woozi got nothing.”
“This is never easy,” Woozi said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
“This isn’t easy,” Mingyu agreed from across the table, giving Woozi some backup.
“It’s okay,” S.Coups chimed in, offering a reassuring nod to his teammate.
“Okay, next question,” PD Na announced as the group prepared for the upcoming challenge. They waited expectantly for the next song to start, but instead of a melody, a doorbell sound echoed through the room.
“Mommy’s here,” Jeonghan teased, his usual playful tone making everyone chuckle.
“Who is it?” Minghao followed, leaning into the bit.
“Delivery,” Jun chimed in, not missing a beat.
“You can leave it at the door,” Seungkwan quipped, playing along as well, causing laughter to ripple across the room.
Suddenly, Dokyeom’s voice echoed as he confidently shouted, “I Get Worked Up And Lose My Temper Easily!” He stood, hands raised in triumph, clearly thinking he had nailed it.
PD Na pointed at him, waiting for his answer.
“Halli Galli?” Dokyeom guessed, looking hopeful. His answer caused the entire room to erupt into laughter.
“Wrong,” PD Na said, shaking his head.
Luna, laughing, added, “That’s a board game!”
[It is a board game]
“Isn’t it right?” Dokyeom laughed along, realizing his mistake.
“Wrong,” PD Na confirmed again, adding to the hilarity as the group continued laughing.
[They're lost]
They quieted down, listening more intently as the music played on. S.Coups stood up, raising his hand and saying their team’s slogan: “I Don’t Know Who Park Bo Gum Is, But I Love Him And Cherish Him.”
PD Na nodded at him, waiting for his answer.
“Sobangcha,” S.Coups guessed.
“Wrong,” PD Na said, and S.Coups groaned, “That’s not it,” as he sat back down, shaking his head.
The song kept playing, the tension in the room thickening. Some of the members seemed familiar with the tune but couldn’t quite place the title. Mingyu, in particular, was whining as he sat forward, the answer clearly on the tip of his tongue. Meanwhile, others like Wonwoo, Woozi, and S.Coups were thinking hard, brows furrowed in concentration.
[They've been doing this for a while]
Luna and Joshua, however, leaned back in their seats, both looking completely lost. “I have no idea,” Luna admitted, turning to Joshua.
“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, sharing her confusion.
“Let’s try to win the MHP at least,” Luna suggested, a grin forming as she teased him. “You have a high chance of winning it,” she said, making Joshua nod as he focused on the next strategy.
The song continued, and suddenly, Vernon stood up with his slogan ready, “I Don’t Like Your Earrings!” he shouted.
[Vernon raised his hand first]
Minghao, who had no clue, was startled by Vernon’s sudden movement, his face full of surprise.
[He's lost]
PD Na laughed, pointing at a shocked Minghao, “The8 doesn’t know why he’s up.”
The room erupted in laughter once again.
“Vernon, you have to say it first— 1, 2, 3,” PD Na counted down, waiting for the answer.
Vernon paused, looking at a clueless Minghao, then gestured toward Dino and Wonwoo’s team with a sheepish smile. “Can I make a concession?” he asked, making the group laugh harder.
“Are you making a concession?” Wonwoo stood up, chuckling as he crossed his arms.
Realizing he had no hope, Vernon gave up and grabbed Minghao’s hand to sit back down, shaking his head in defeat.
[They were nice enough to make a concession]
“Team Drink Less and Talk More?” PD Na offered, turning to Dino and Wonwoo’s team.
Dino sat frozen, clearly paralyzed by indecision, while Wonwoo managed to say the artist’s name, “Shim Soo Bong?”
“Wrong,” PD Na said.
Jeonghan, still seated, raised his hand and recited their slogan confidently, “Burp and Fart.”
[Burp was waiting for his chance]
PD Na acknowledged them, nodding.
“Yun Soo Il,” Jeonghan said, grinning slightly.
PD Na then counted down for Mingyu, “1, 2, 3.”
“‘Apartment,’” Mingyu said, the answer finally clicking into place.
“You got it!” PD Na confirmed, causing the members to gasp in disbelief. Mingyu and Jeonghan celebrated immediately, high-fiving with big smiles on their faces.
“How did you know?” Mingyu asked, turning to Jeonghan with curiosity.
“My dad’s favorite singer,” Jeonghan replied, as casual as ever.
[You're also a good son]
The song played again, and this time, a handful of the members went up to the front to freestyle dance to the old tune. Vernon, Minghao, Wonwoo— who was pulled up by Dino— Dokyeom, Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Jun all jumped up, eager to join the fun.
[There are always people who do this on 'National Singing Contest']
The rest of the members, including Mingyu, Jeonghan, Woozi, S.Coups, and Luna, sat back down, content to watch the others perform. Luna, however, gave Joshua a little nudge, pushing him forward to go dance.
“Go, go,” she urged, laughing as Joshua reluctantly joined the group.
[Under pressure]
As the members danced, most of them played up the comedic aspect, especially Joshua, who started mimicking a well-known meme. His exaggerated movements caused the members to burst out laughing, several pointing at him as they realized the similarities.
[Drunken Disney princes]
“Good job! Good job, Shua!” Luna cheered him on, her laughter contagious as she clapped for him.
Once the song ended, the members slowly returned to their seats, still chuckling and catching their breath. Luna continued clapping for Joshua as he plopped down next to her.
[Joshua won]
“Joshua, that was cool,” Seungkwan said, still smiling at his friend’s antics.
“We’ll give up on MHP,” Mingyu declared, shaking his head, a grin tugging at his lips.
Jeonghan nodded in agreement, both of them still relishing their small victory from earlier.
[We're out of energy]
As the lively atmosphere settled, the room buzzed with the afterglow of laughter and excitement. PD Na’s voice broke through the hum, preparing them for the next question. The members, some leaning forward eagerly while others relaxed back in their seats, prepared themselves for what was to come next.
The game wasn’t over yet, and the friendly competition had only just begun.
[To be continued in Clip 3-1]
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illumins · 1 year ago
Text
═════ஓ๑ ᴄʜᴘ.1 ๑ஓ════
The small manor's main hall was adorned with inexpensive wallpaper, its vibrant royal blue hue dotted with gracefully flying cranes. This ornate decoration spanned the entire space, casting a captivating ambiance upon the room. The manor, well-known to the residents of Lillon, a quaint port town nestled on the eastern side of the majestic Avalon mountains, stood proudly atop a lofty hill overlooking the tumultuous sea. The crashing waves resounded through the manor, harmonizing with the fervent shouts of its diligent butlers and maids.
Clad in a flowing white gown, Lena gracefully descended the grand u-shaped staircase, her every step a symphony of mischief. With each passing second, a mischievous smile adorned her face as the caretakers of the manor gasped for breath, cursing her name. The cold touch of the marble floor against her bare feet amplified a sense of liberation that coursed through her veins.
"Lady Lena! I implore you, please halt your advance!" cried out her butler in desperation.
And halt she did. Turning around, she couldn't help but snicker at the sight of her beleaguered butler, hunched over with a dress draped over his arm. As he looked up, his breath held, he cautiously attempted to approach her, but she instinctively took a step back. Extending her index finger playfully, she warned, "Nah ah, Mr. Freed. One step closer, and I may be tempted to test the full force of gravity by leaping out of the window."
Exasperated, Mr. Freed bent backward, his frustration palpable. "My word, Lena. Why must you always be so obstinate?"
"Why, Mr. Freed? Don't you find it amusing?" she asked, her eyes gleaming mischievously.
Meeting her daring gaze with an unamused expression, Mr. Freed's lips formed a pout reminiscent of a basset hound. "Not particularly. How do you perceive it, then?"
"A thrill," she exclaimed, her eyebrow teasingly raised, before darting off into the bustling kitchen. The chaotic symphony of two cooks and seven maids echoed within the culinary domain, their frantic movements tracing a frenzied path from one end to the other. The head chef, with a commanding presence, barked orders while deftly chopping freshly plucked vegetables from the garden. Amidst the flurry of activity, the Lady of the manor remained unnoticed, her presence inconsequential as the staff busily toiled to complete their culinary creations. It struck her as peculiar, but she saw no reason to dwell on such matters. Instead, she directed her steps toward the pantry.
Navigating through the industrious throng of workers, she gracefully evaded incoming plates, her hands tightly tucked by her side. Silently, she glided through the bustling scene until she arrived at the pantry's entrance. As she slipped inside, the sun's gentle rays poured through the glass dome ceiling, bathing the space in a natural glow. Illuminated before her were an array of spices, dried herbs, and tantalizing desserts. Her eyes widened as they fixated upon a glass jar brimming with freshly baked cookies, perched high upon a shelf. Wasting no time, she advanced swiftly, her steps careful and her arms outstretched. With a skillful maneuver, she managed to seize the jar, her heart filled with triumphant delight.
"Lena," a low voice cut through the air, causing her to startle.
Turning around, clutching the purloined jar, she chuckled nervously. "Ah, Vincent, you've caught me in the act. You nearly gave me a heart attack, old man."
“Don’t call me old.”
"Yes, sir," she hastily apologized, realizing her lapse in judgment.
Brandishing a knife stained with remnants of his culinary artistry, Vincent pointed at the jar of cookies. "That's the second jar this week."
“What can I say? You do god’s work.”
"Lena," he warned, his voice laced with a blend of admonishment and affection.
"Yes, sir," she relented, approaching him to hand over the coveted jar.
Stepping aside to allow her exit, Vincent's intentions were thwarted as an unforeseen impact jolted her backward.
"Oh, Vincent, please don't tell me you were concealing Lena again," Mr. Freed's composed voice broke through the moment of surprise, as both Lena and Vincent regained their composure.
Pointing his knife accusingly at Mr. Freed, Vincent grumbled, "And I distinctly recall instructing you not to run in my kitchen."
With a single finger, Mr. Freed gently pushed the knife away from his face. "Well, you should know that it's all thanks to this young lady. Her relentless chaos has pushed the maids to their limits, causing three of them to collapse from exhaustion."
Vincent cast a glance at Lena, who responded with a sheepish smile. "I had my suspicions," he remarked.
“Well, I will be taking Lady Lena to her room to be attended to so that when Sir Piermon arrives, he will be proud of the woman she’s become.”
Those words reverberated within her, rendering her motionless. Even as the butler firmly grasped her wrist, attempting to guide her away, she remained rooted to the spot. Father? Her mind struggled to conjure up a faint memory of a bearded man clad in fine garments—a tenuous connection to the man. The last time she had seen him, she was but a fragile twelve-year-old girl, trapped in a shadowy existence she could never fully escape.
The butler noticed the shock etched upon the girl's face, stifling an exasperated breath. "Lena, I understand that it has been a considerable time. However, we must prepare you for his arrival. Can you find it within yourself to comply? For us?"
Lifting her gaze, she comprehended the weight behind his words. Though she had not witnessed it firsthand, the murmurs circulating within these very walls had given her an inkling. Her father was not held in high regard within this manor, and perhaps not even in their hometown. Very well, she acquiesced, nodding her consent and allowing Mr. Freed to escort her away—from the kitchen, through the main hall, and up the ornate staircase.
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They adorned her in a manner she had anticipated, to a degree that rendered the reflection in the mirror foreign to her own eyes. The maids, aware of her aversion to all things associated with femininity, had always outfitted her in modest attire, disguising her noble status. To an outside observer, she would have appeared as a commoner rather than a woman of distinction. Yet now, she found herself enveloped in a resplendent royal blue gown, intricate makeup adorning her features, her hair meticulously styled into an elegant bun, and a lingering fragrance of lavender clinging to her skin. It was all too overwhelming—a costume, she reassured herself, as she spun before the towering looking glass.
A pair of gentle knocks resonated through the chamber, prompting her to nod in permission for one of the maids to open the door. Mr. Freed emerged, bedecked in a fine vest, a shirt adorned with ruffled cuffs, and his meticulously groomed hair elegantly swept back.
"Your father has arrived, my Lady," he announced, his words evoking a disquieting sensation. The notion of having her father brought forth an unsettling strangeness she preferred to avoid. Nonetheless, she steeled herself, resolving to endure the encounter. "Very well," she responded with composed resolve.
Before stepping out of the room behind the butler, one of the maids intercepted her. Perplexed, she turned back, inquiring, "What is it?"
"Remember what you have been taught, my Lady—chin held high, shoulders back, and manners, Lady Lena," the elder maid gently hinted, prompting Lena to scoff inwardly at the absurdity of it all. Nevertheless, she allowed a smile to grace her lips and executed a graceful curtsy. "Very well," the maid approved, granting her permission to proceed.
Descending the grand staircase, Lena observed the mansion's staff, all bedecked in their finest uniforms, emitting an even more enticing fragrance than usual. They stood in rigid formation, forming a corridor of respect on either side of the imposing front door. From above, Lena glimpsed her father engrossed in conversation with Mr. Freed. Adorned in immaculate white attire, adorned with subtle yet intricate embroideries upon his coat, his wavy locks expertly swept back, and his piercing blue eyes exuding a chilling allure, he possessed an illusion of handsomeness.
Mr. Freed, sensing the hesitant presence of the young girl atop the staircase, introduced her with a reverent tone. "My Lord, may I present to you, Lady Lena."
Suppressing a heavy heartbeat, Lena felt her father's gaze lock with her own. A surge of desperation surged through her being—a desperate longing to escape the moment. With a forced smile etching upon her lips and her hands clutching at the folds of her blue gown, she embarked on the cautious descent down the curved staircase. Each step felt akin to a treacherous dance with mortality, as her eyes struggled to discern where her feet would find purchase. Finally, her feet touched the firm ground below, and she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Standing before her father, she curtsied with practiced grace, uttering a polite greeting, "Father."
His gaze lingered upon her for what felt like an eternity, suffusing the room with an icy chill. If it were within the realm of possibility, she believed she would have dissolved into a mere puddle under the intensity of his scrutiny. A tingling sensation prickled her fingers, and her palms grew damp with perspiration. Even Mr. Freed, standing nearby, appeared uneasy, fidgeting subtly in his position.
Breaking the frigid silence, her father's voice pierced through the air, slicing through the palpable tension. "I perceive that you have blossomed into the Lady of this House, Lena. It appears my apprehensions were nothing more than figments of my imagination."
Keeping her eyes averted from him, she offered a subtle nod in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Father."
At that moment, Mr. Freed interjected, addressing her father as ‘Sir Piermon.’ "Lunch has been prepared, and your chamber awaits, should you wish to rest after your arduous journey."
"No need; I have come to see Lena and convey a message," her father asserted, disregarding Mr. Freed's suggestion. The butler attempted to interject once more, only to halt abruptly as her father raised a commanding hand.
Curiosity and trepidation swelled within her, prompting Lena to question, "What is it, Father?" She couldn't suppress the hastiness in her voice, and a twinge of regret prickled at her.
Her father's next words pierced her with a searing blow. "Your mother has passed."
The numbness that accompanied thoughts of her mother was not entirely unfamiliar; there had been little of her presence to cling to. Lena harbored but a solitary recollection, a swirling concoction of emotions and confusion, one she had long chosen to bury deep within. Yet, an uncharted hollow suddenly bloomed within her, unsettling the pit of her stomach. Perhaps it was merely hunger, she attempted to persuade herself. Nevertheless, that unyielding part of her being, perpetually stirring with unwelcome emotions and thoughts, adamantly disagreed. No, Lena, you are experiencing sadness. That is the essence of this emotion—a profound sense of sorrow and loneliness.
Her lips bore the mark of her bite, a feeble attempt to suppress the torrent of unwelcome tears that threatened to spill forth. With a deliberate inhalation and exhalation, she sought to regain composure. "When did it happen?" Her voice, though laced with a semblance of sternness, trembled subtly at its conclusion.
"At Saint Moray's, at the onset of dusk. The attending nurses discovered her lifeless form resting by the window," he recounted. "It was a sudden passing."
Her question, sharp yet vulnerable, pierced the air. "And what was the cause?"
"Her heart simply gave out. That is all the information I possess," he responded matter-of-factly.
Lena's gaze remained fixed upon her father, his countenance devoid of any emotion, as cold as ever. Nodding with measured restraint, she averted her face, purposefully evading Mr. Freed's gaze. For a fleeting moment, her eyes caught a glimpse of disbelief etched upon the butler's visage, but she swiftly shifted her line of sight, unwilling to succumb to the shattering of her fragile facade.
"However, that is not the sole purpose of my visit," her father continued, oblivious to her refusal to acknowledge him.
Lena remained motionless.
And he did not pause to wait for her.
"You are to be wedded to the Marquis of Li'Pold," he declared, the words hanging heavily in the air. Her eyes widened in profound disbelief, her throat constricting with the suppressed scream that clamored for release. This time, she did look at him, a single tear slipping past her lengthy lashes, tracing a trail down her delicate jawline.
"What?" she exclaimed, her voice betraying her distressed state.
"The arrangements have been made, and a carriage shall arrive by month's end to collect you," he stated, turning his attention to Mr. Freed. The venerable butler, his face etched with wrinkles that belied his modest features, appeared almost as anguished as she felt. "Ensure that all pertinent belongings are adequately prepared. Intensify her tutelage in the art of being a dutiful wife and instruct her in the responsibilities befitting a Marquess, until such time as she departs."
So this is your plan, in the wake of mother's departure—to rid yourself of the other. "And what shall become of the individuals here?" she inquired through clenched teeth.
"They shall be reassigned to various noble households that have taken an interest in a select few," he replied dismissively.
Lena's tone now bore an unmistakable edge, her words gritted between her teeth. "A select few? And what of those who do not fall into that chosen category?"
"They shall receive a month's worth of wages as compensation and be left to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Is there anything else?" His voice sharpened dangerously, a clear indication of his impatience.
Unbeknownst to her, her posture had gradually succumbed to a slouch, but now she straightened her spine, rolling her shoulders back and elevating her chin with newfound resolve. "No," she replied, her voice carrying a tone of defiance.
A heavy silence engulfed them both, stretching taut like a tightly drawn bowstring. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Mr. Freed regaining his composure, clearing his throat as if to break the oppressive stillness.
Sir Piermon ran a hand through his meticulously combed hair, pivoting on his heel. "That is all I have come to convey. I shall take my leave then," he declared. With the same swiftness that had brought him, he departed once more, leaving behind a lingering chill in the air.
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Above, a tempestuous storm raged, casting its shadow over the land. Tiny droplets of rain glistened like scattered stars, illuminated intermittently by the flickering lantern on her bedside table and the occasional bolt of lightning. The rain tapped rhythmically against the circular window, offering a backdrop to the vast expanse of hills upon which the manor perched, overlooking the vast ocean. By night, the view possessed an air of haunting beauty, but to Lena, it whispered of untamed freedom, an untapped realm awaiting her.
Nestled within her double bed, positioned toward the room's rear, Lena lay ensconced in the embrace of fine cotton sheets and her nightgown. Her meticulously brushed hair cascaded over her right shoulder, but the dampness in the air transformed it into a fluffier, more unruly mass than she preferred—a trait that irked her. Ever since her father's departure, she had retreated into an isolated silence. During lunch, she sat alone, unable to stomach even a morsel of the freshly prepared chicken and salad that Vincent had lovingly crafted. Soon thereafter, the maids ushered her upstairs to her chamber, where they removed her gown, bathed her, and readied her for bed in an atmosphere of tense silence. In their own way, they extended a modicum of compassion, granting the numbed girl space, unaware of the clandestine battle waged within her mind.
She remained uncertain as to which side had emerged triumphant—was the weight of her mother's passing substantial enough to unleash her grief, or did the prospect of departing from the place she once regarded as a prison, now her sanctuary, loom too large, rendering it a mere memory too soon? All these emotions surged and churned, trapped within the confines of her throat, clawing and beseeching her to succumb to one or the other, yet she found herself incapable of action. Confusion reigned. Loss pervaded. She... was adrift.
Lena rose from her bed, the frigid wooden floor chilling her bare feet, and made her way toward the window, leaning her head against the cool glass. Will I become like her? Whatever had propelled my mother into madness, does it lie dormant within me as well? I wonder what affliction led her down that path. If only I knew, then perhaps I could stop it from happening to me... She attempted to envision her mother's descent into madness—mumbling incoherently, fixated on imaginary visions, but the images refused to materialize. For the only memory she retained of her mother was not one of insanity, but rather one steeped in tragedy.
I don’t want to be a tragedy.
Then, an unrestrained sob escaped her lips, followed by another and another, the outpouring of emotions intertwining in a tumultuous dance. Amidst the swirling torrent, one sentiment emerged with crystalline clarity: fear. It seized her, causing her hands to tremble uncontrollably, and she instinctively wrapped her arms tightly around herself, as if seeking protection from the weight that threatened to crush her. It felt as though madness itself threatened to consume her, burying her under its suffocating grip.
From a distant corner of the room, her gaze fell upon the glimmering lights emanating from the coastal town below. Man-made luminance illuminated the darkness, a stark contrast to her desolate surroundings. Her eyes traced the graceful sway of three imposing ships battling the tempestuous waves at the harbor. In her mind's ear, she could almost hear the echo of laughter and the strains of music that surely accompanied the revelry below. Lena cast a lingering glance back at her barren room, where an oppressive darkness loomed, signaling a foreboding and uncertain future that had abruptly arrived. Turning her attention back to the window, she pressed the right side of her face against the cold glass, gazing downward at the town, then fixing her gaze upon the ships. Ships—a symbol of liberation and boundless possibilities.
Driven by a sudden surge of exhilaration, Lena hurriedly made her way to her closet, fingers skimming past opulent silks in various hues of purple, blue, green, and red, each fabric a proclamation of status. Yet, status was the last thing she desired. She yearned for inconspicuous attire, garments that would allow her to blend seamlessly with the common folk inhabiting the bustling town below. An idea ignited within her, igniting a spark of giddy delight. The maids—surely they possessed garments more suited to her purpose. Silently, she turned the knob of one of the two wide doors, slipping out into the dimly lit hallway. The manor assumed a more hollow and haunting ambiance during the nocturnal hours, with the relentless rain pounding upon the roof and the vast windows, evoking an eerie yet oddly serene sensation. Moving with careful steps, she descended the stairs, her footsteps tiptoeing across the marble, her anxious mind praying for their echoes to dissipate into the shadows. The grandeur of the main hall served as a stark reminder of how, mere hours ago, she had frolicked through its expanse like an untethered child, laughter reverberating through the air. Yet, it was within these very walls that her world had been shattered, the world she had painstakingly constructed.
She proceeded toward the kitchen, but her steps carried her further, past four doors lining either side of the hallway. On the right stood the quarters for the men of the manor, while on the left resided the women. However, those four doors were not her intended destination. Her purpose lay within the last door on the left, nestled farther down the corridor beside a lavishly adorned table. Passing through the threshold, she found herself in the laundry room, where baskets brimming with clothing flanked sinks and drying racks. Garments of various kinds were strewn haphazardly across the space, and she wasted no time in sifting through the discarded fabric. Each item she examined was promptly cast aside, her hopes set on finding a modest day dress, akin to the attire the maids would wear during their visits to town. Alas, none surfaced. It seemed that only men's clothing and standard uniforms remained, prompting a click of her tongue in frustration, as she begrudgingly accepted that the former constituted her sole option.
Exasperation welled within her, and with a heave, she discarded her nightgown, hastily snatching up a loose green cotton shirt and a pair of beige trousers that sagged at her waist. Her eyes swept across the laundry room, and a cry of triumph escaped her lips as she spotted a neglected belt hanging from one of the racks. Seizing it, she deftly buckled it around her waist, cinching the trousers securely. Finally, she seized a worn-out brown oversized coat, its weight settling upon her shoulders, while she struggled to keep the rolled-up sleeves from engulfing her hands. Completing her impromptu ensemble, she hastily slipped on a pair of socks and pulled on knee-high leather boots.
Emerging from the laundry room, Lena passed through the kitchen, her gaze falling upon a woven bag containing bread. Without hesitation, she claimed it as her own. Swiftly, she shrugged off her coat, slung the bag across her chest, and slipped back into the comforting embrace of the coat's folds. Now, standing before the servants' door, her hand rested upon the handle, poised to open it. A momentary hesitation gripped her, but a sudden lightning strike outside propelled her forward, causing her to fling open the door in a startle. The tempestuous storm greeted her eagerly, and a smile broke through the clouds of fatigue upon her countenance. The cold caress of wind and rain kissed her face as they tugged at her, urging her farther away. Squinting against the elements, she turned and closed the door behind her, embarking upon the path that led downhill toward the town, where the waiting ships beckoned.
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From a distance, she discerned the town's melody, harmonizing with the symphony of the storm—laughter, shouts, and exuberant cries blending into a vibrant cacophony. Yet, as she stood at the epicenter of it all, the sounds seemed to belong to tales she had yet to experience. Excitement and nervous anticipation mingled within her, causing her stomach to bubble with a delightful restlessness. The fear that had gripped her back in her room now resided merely as a faint ache in her heart. Passersby smiled and engaged in lively conversations, while intoxicated men and women sang and bantered, carried away by the melodies emanating from taverns. The aroma of freshly baked delicacies wafted from every open door of taverns, inns, and homes. Children brandishing wooden swords played joyously, their voices filled with pirate slang as they leaped into puddles. Pirates, she thought, a giggle escaping her lips. Lena couldn't help but marvel at the lively spectacle unfolding before her eyes, for there seemed to be no corner of the town of Lillon unoccupied. Some of the men who passed by wore adornments of jewelry and swords hanging from their hips, their eyes shimmering with the same exuberant joy she had felt earlier.
Shaking her head, she released a breathy laugh, a soft sound escaping her lips. "The ships, Lena, the ships first," she whispered to herself, a gentle reminder, as she sought refuge beneath the sheltering roof of one of the stores. It was certain that they would not embark on their journey tonight. Her task was clear: she needed to unravel the destination they sought and devise a plan to clandestinely join their voyage. Easy... well, perhaps not so easily accomplished... hahaha. Strands of damp hair threatened to obstruct her vision, prompting her to deftly slick them away. Squinting once again, she directed her gaze towards the harbor and the docks, where slumbering figures lay undisturbed. How can they sleep through this storm? Lena watched in awe, momentarily captivated by their seemingly impervious slumber. However, she swiftly dismissed the thought, turning her attention elsewhere.
A woman, equally drenched by the downpour, hurriedly approached her, vigorously patting herself down to ward off the relentless raindrops. Shivers ran through her body as the winds howled around them. The adrenaline coursing through Lena's veins had momentarily caused her to forget the chill that clung to her, yet now, the sight of the woman's trembling form made her own body shudder in response.
“Oh darling, you must be freezing, huh,” the woman pointed out, her concern evident in her voice, as she continued her futile attempts to dry herself.
"Yes," Lena replied, a small laugh escaping her lips, though her teeth chattered involuntarily.
“Well, you should head home before you catch a cold or somethin’.”
"Actually," Lena began, adjusting her position slightly to face the woman directly, endeavoring to hold her attention, "do you happen to know the destination of these ships, ma'am?"
As the lady halted her movements, her gaze sweeping up and down Lena's figure, a sudden knot formed in Lena's throat. She had never ventured into this part of town, and these people knew nothing of her identity. Up in the manor, she was merely the daughter of a wealthy man, hidden away, decaying in her own solitude. This woman didn't know her. Of course not, Lena reassured herself, clinging to the hope that she would remain unrecognized.
“Don’t tell me a young thing like you got caught up with those men,” the woman sighed, her voice tinged with a mix of sympathy and exasperation.
“Well—” Lena began, intending to clarify her intentions, but the woman interrupted her, shaking her head in disapproval.
“You know, I get us women wanting to make a name for ourselves. But it’s not necessary with those savages.” She shook her head. “Do you know what it’s like being on board with twenty or more men on a ship?”
"No, but—" Lena attempted to interject, her words falling on deaf ears.
“Cause let me tell you, I do. Or at least my cousin’s girlfriend’s friend Genevive knows. Ooh, she told me some things that no woman should bear witness to or experience. She said it better herself, ‘Women can do it all but don’t need to lose the class they were taught,’ and every time I work with those men at the tavern, I feel that in my chest darlin’.”
Lena stood before the woman, her eyes blinking in a dazed fashion, her lips slightly parted as she struggled to process the woman's words within her fatigued mind. Leaning down to meet the young girl's gaze, the woman's concern was palpable as she spoke, “Oh damn, don’t tell me you’re already feeling sick. They do say small things like you get easily withered.”
Startled by the woman's proximity, Lena instinctively leaned back, offering a sheepish smile in response. "I, uh, no, I assure you, I feel perfectly fine. I apologize for the confusion. Working alongside them can indeed be draining. However, circumstances have led to my transfer, and I need to ascertain which ship is bound for which destination."
Acknowledging Lena's explanation with a nod, the woman adjusted her dampened hair and leaned over the edge of the shop's wall, directing her gaze toward the bustling harbor. “Well, I can’t tell you which is which since I don’t really step out onto the docks. But I can tell you the places they��re planning to go.”
“That’s fine,” I think.
“Well, from what I heard, two are planning to sail west to the islands of Canoga, and one is sailing to Pearl Reef.”
Expressing her gratitude, Lena suppressed the urge to curtsy out of habit. "Thank you for your assistance."
“Of course. Now, I must get a couple of things and head back. It was nice meeting you! You should head home and take a bath before you get yourself sick, though,” she finished before heading into the shop.
Lena offered a nod of acknowledgment before turning her gaze toward the three ships looming before her. Canoga was not a viable option, considering Li'Pold's presence there. This meant she had a single opportunity to choose wisely among the trio bound for Pearl Reef. Among the three vessels, the one positioned in the middle exuded a grandeur surpassing that of its counterparts. Adorning its bowsprit was a meticulously crafted figurehead, depicting a bird with its wings tucked gracefully. In her younger years, a maid would regale Lena with tales of sailing and ships, given her father's occupation as a merchant. While the intricate details and components of a ship hadn't been retained as vividly as the locations in those stories, the captivating designs of mermaids, maidens, and pirates that adorned the vessels had always held a profound allure. Each ship possessed its unique design, laden with symbolism.
I’d best get moving.
As Lena maneuvered through the undulating masses of swaying crowds and bustling vendors, her mind was awash with nervous contemplation of the words she would utter once she confronted the men who occupied the docks. Unbeknownst to her until now, the briny aroma of the sea permeated the air, permeating her nostrils and searing her lungs with an unfamiliar and putrid blend of salt and fish. As her feet made contact with the weathered wooden planks of the docks, a resounding creak jolted her senses, prompting her to cast a wary gaze downward, ensuring the integrity of the flooring beneath her.
Resting against one of the pylons, a man of similar age to Lena lounged upon a diminutive wooden stool. A brown cocked hat nestled upon his face, slightly askew to grant his left eye an unimpeded view. With his right arm, he diligently secured the hat, preventing the capricious wind from snatching it away. Nonetheless, his long black vest and billowing blouse danced with the breeze, threatening to become disheveled and dislodged from his brown trousers. Drenched by the rain as Lena was, he remained unperturbed in his repose, only mustering a glance as she drew nearer. Peering at her through the small opening afforded by his hat, he offered no inclination to alter his position.
"Yes?" His voice, groggy and brimming with palpable disinterest, reverberated towards her.
Lena raised her hand above her eyes in an attempt to shield them from the incessant rainfall, her voice carrying a trace of urgency, “Sorry, I was hoping to talk to the Captain who will be sailing to Pearl Reef.”
Upon hearing her request, he sat up, setting aside his hat as he scrutinized her with a discerning gaze. Raising an eyebrow, a smug smirk materialized upon his countenance, as he insinuated, “Are you one of his whores?”
His words elicited a mixture of disbelief and revulsion within Lena, causing her voice to escalate slightly, "His what?"
Unfazed by her reaction, he retorted, his tone tinged with sardonic amusement, “Don’t be ashamed; it happens. I’ve noticed that the ones who’ve accepted it tend to have a better time.”
“I am not a whore and certainly not his. I’m just hoping to speak to him.”
Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he shook his head, his demeanor condescending, “Being desperate isn’t a good look on you. It won’t win him over, either.”
Oh, for the love of god— “Do you know where he is or not?”
A wry smile tugged at his lips as he leaned back, divulging the sought-after information, “At the Greyson’s tavern. Perhaps singing another night away.”
She expressed a bitter gratitude to the man who had provided her with the desired information before retracing her steps through the town, her gaze fixed upon the carved wooden signs suspended above or affixed to the walls of shops and establishments. The weariness that had been steadily encroaching upon her finally overwhelmed her resistance, a relentless reminder of the discomfort that plagued her within the confines of these sodden, ill-fitting garments. They clung to her form with an ungainly persistence, exacerbating the chafed skin between her thighs. The ceaseless downpour only added to her plight, as her dampened hair adhered to her neck and cheeks, teasing her already hypersensitive complexion. "Just convince him to grant you a place within his crew," she muttered to herself, an incantation she repeated with increasing fervor. At long last, the sight of handcrafted lettering announcing 'Greyson's Tavern' above a sturdy oak door elicited a warmth that transformed her withered countenance into a grateful smile.
Externally, the establishment exuded an atmosphere of intimacy, imbued with rustic charm. Pillars hewn from both soft and hardwood dominated the outer facade, while the interior remained hidden behind glazed windows. However, the sounds and warmth emanating from within could be perceived even from the outside. The lively melodies and animated conversations spilled forth as the door swung open, permitting ingress and egress. The occupants within appeared dazed, inebriated, or otherwise under the influence. Lena followed closely behind one of the patrons, and as she crossed the threshold, she basked in the embrace of warm yellow light that enveloped the interior, the palpable heat radiating from the throng of bodies swaying and singing in unison. Her gaze momentarily lowered to the floor, besmirched by countless muddy footprints, spilled libations, and discarded remnants of food. Nonetheless, as she stood within the entryway, drenched and shivering, she reveled in the unfamiliar sensation of warmth, audibly releasing a sigh of relief as she finally escaped the clutches of the cold and damp.
Waitresses traversed the premises, dutifully attending to an abundance of drink and food orders. One of them bestowed upon Lena a fleeting smile as she passed by, though her attention was swiftly diverted to cater to another person. It’s not like I brought money with me, Lena thought wryly. The amalgamation of unfamiliar scents wafting through the tavern provoked a slight headache, but one she resolved to endure until she could board the ship. Above her, stout wooden beams provided support for the upper floor, while modest chandeliers adorned with rows of flickering candles illuminated the space. The walls were adorned with an assortment of mementos, each bearing the signatures of patrons who had likely donated them. Numerous long tables were occupied by what appeared to be the entire populace of Lillon, while smaller tables also accommodated revelers who reveled in their mirth, perhaps even to excess, if such a thing were possible. Even the bar stools were predominantly claimed, yet the close proximity seemed to elicit no discontent among the occupants. Amidst it all, perched atop one of the elongated tables, a man bellowed forth a sea shanty that served as a siren's call to the assembled crowd.
Lena quickly discerned that he held command over the sea shanty that had enraptured the hearts of all present; amidst the clamor of boisterous voices, his own resounded with unparalleled brilliance. Entranced, she watched him with unabashed fascination, unable to deny the handsomeness that graced his visage. His fiery red tresses tumbled untamed, cascading in playful disarray with errant strands framing his features. The remnants of rainwater adorned his bronzed skin, shimmering like liquid gems. It appeared that not a soul in this haven of revelry minded the rain's persistent assault, embracing the tempestuous conditions with fervor. A faint blush brushed his cheeks as he quaffed from a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. His pearly white teeth gleamed with each infectious smile that accompanied the fervent rendition of the next verse, eliciting spirited dances from his fellow merrymakers. Smudged black makeup accentuated his eyes, while golden jewelry shimmered seductively in the ambient light. As the song crescendoed toward its final chorus, he rose from his seat and meandered through the throng, leaning in to share intimate words and hearty laughter with the assembled company. A mischievous twinkle danced in his eyes as he serenaded a woman from behind, their playful exchange culminating in a twirl and a tantalizing tease. And as the melody reached its climactic end, he ascended a chair, lifting his bottle high while exclaiming a triumphant 'hoorah!' in unison with the raucous crowd.
The tavern erupted in a symphony of applause and cheers, reverberating through the air as glasses were raised in celebratory toasts to the renowned 'Captain Canerie,' who responded with a playful bow. Lena recognized that her moment had arrived, the opportune time to seize her chance. With each apologetic murmur, she navigated through the bustling crowd, diligently shadowing the vibrant-haired captain's every move. Amidst the sea of revelers, she felt diminutive, her gaze barely reaching the shoulders of those around her, compelling her to rise onto tiptoes intermittently to maintain sight of her target. Stay still, you idiot! she chided herself, though he seemed to flit effortlessly from table to table, engaging in flirtations with women and sharing hearty laughter with men who eagerly inquired about his seafaring exploits.
Finally, Lena arrived at the table where she had first spotted him. Nervousness and apprehension coiled tightly within her gut and constricted her throat, yet she steeled herself for this encounter. "Captain Canerie?" she called out, her voice rising above the clamor. He continued regaling his companions with laughter and tales, while a woman seated beside him leaned against his shoulder, fluttering her lashes coquettishly.
"Captain Canerie," Lena spoke again, raising her volume. At once, the collective gaze of the table's occupants shifted toward her, some with mouths full of food, others peering curiously from behind their drinks. The tavern's vivacity persisted, yet she felt an eerie hush settle over the world. Suppressing a nervous giggle, she met his amused gaze as the woman fed him morsels of bread.
“Apologies for interrupting your festivities, but I wanted to know if you are the individual destined for the voyage to Pearl Reef," Lena interjected, her words breaking through the jubilant atmosphere. All eyes remained fixed upon her, and she couldn't help but fathom the peculiarity of her appearance in their discerning gazes. Bedraggled like a stray, she donned garments that dwarfed her slender frame, while her fatigued countenance, tinged with unshed tears and the weariness of mourning, likely struck them as an oddity. If Mr. Freed saw me…oh god.
"And if I were?" he responded in a mouthful.
"I had hoped to join your company," she ventured, her tone forthright yet carrying with it hope.
A collective freeze gripped the table, the captain's hand instinctively halting the woman from feeding him. A hint of amusement danced at the corner of his lips, quickly spreading contagiously among his comrades.
“Thank you for the laugh,” he retorted, succumbing to laughter alongside others.
"It is no jest," she insisted, her tone shifting to solemnity.
His head recoiled in disbelief, a brow arching quizzically as he took a bite of bread offered by the woman. Swallowing the morsel, he spoke, "And why should I entertain the notion? Do you possess any riches or significant valuables to sway me?"
“No—”
“Then I don’t see any chance of you stepping foot on my ship.”
He took a sip from his drink, resuming his conversation with those around him, their collective indifference casting her further into a realm of trepidation and ire. Anger coursed through her veins, intertwining with the nervousness and fear she had already experienced.
"I was going to offer myself as payment," she declared, her voice carrying enough weight to quell their chatter, eliciting a chorus of intrigued murmurs.
He faced her directly, giving her a good look up and down before scoffing, “No offense, love, but you’re just not my type.”
His companions erupted in laughter, provoking a wave of disgust that knitted her brows together. "I meant for work. I am prepared to undertake cleaning and any other menial tasks required during the journey."
He was on the cusp of responding when a young man of her age, his tousled brunette locks framing his face, tapped the captain's shoulder and motioned for a private conversation. Whispering into the redhead's ear, his message elicited a radiant smile upon the captain's face as he redirected his attention to Lena.
“I don’t see why, but we do need an extra hand around after our last one fell overboard.”
Lena's eyes widened in astonishment. Overwhelmed with gratitude, she clasped her hands together, ready to express her heartfelt appreciation, but her words caught in her throat as the captain raised his hand. “But, you must first beat me in a drinking contest. Only fair, since you’ll be around a bunch of drunks.”
Her mind went still as she thought about the offer, I’ve never drank a drop of liquor. I just watched the workers back home have a swig of it late at night. It can’t be that awful, surely. The same man who had whispered to Captain Canarie pushes a large cup of beer across the table in front of her.
Gazing at the effervescent bubbles dancing atop the freshly poured pint, Lena found herself momentarily transfixed. She then turned her attention to the man who had presented her with the drink, a smile gracing her lips. "What is your name?" she inquired.
“Chenle, why?” he replied, his eyes fixated on her with an air of fascination.
Lena took hold of the cup, raising it to her nose to inhale the peculiar aroma, allowing its distinct scent to tantalize her senses. "Because it’s only right that I get to know my crewmate's name," she explained, before taking hearty gulps that swiftly emptied the vessel.
A chorus of cheers erupted in her honor, but the exultation intensified when she gingerly placed the empty cup back on the table and found herself seized by a fit of coughs and retches, her revulsion palpable. That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted, she confessed, her disgust evident.
“Seems like your first time, little dove,” he then emptied his cup and sets it down proudly.
Chenle refills her cup and hands it to her, “How badly do you want to be part of the crew?”
Rolling her eyes in a bitter display, Lena accepted the cup from him, downing its contents in one fell swoop. Yet, the experience failed to offer any semblance of refreshment; instead, it burdened her with a leaden sensation and heightened self-revulsion, surpassing even the discomfort she had endured in the midst of the rain-soaked storm.
“So, how will this go?” she asked.
“Easy, keep drinking until one gives up or passes out,” he finishes another cup and gets refilled.
“Fine,” Lena says bitterly and finishes hers.
The cycle persisted until Captain Canarie dispatched the young woman seated beside him to retrieve another pint. One of the crewmates even graciously vacated his spot, affording her a place to sit. The crew member who provided the seat refilled her sixth cup, introducing himself as Mark, the Quartermaster. Much like the captain, he bore smudged black makeup beneath his eyes and donned ornate silver rings adorned with intricate depictions of animals and human portraits. The life of a merchant must yield handsome rewards, Lena surmised, albeit hazily, amidst her inebriated state.
"Come now, don't lose your pace," Captain Canarie prodded, gesturing towards her newly replenished cup of beer.
Narrowing her gaze at him, she quaffed the contents of the cup and slammed it resolutely onto the table. "Your turn," she challenged.
And with a swift motion, he raised the cup to his lips, effortlessly consuming its contents in a single gulp. Lena couldn't help but be bothered by how effortlessly he drank, seemingly unaffected, while she struggled to maintain her composure. While he appeared invigorated, she found herself navigating the world as if through the tranquil undulations of calm waves, each movement weighed down by the heaviness in her limbs. Her words began to slur, a source of annoyance and frustration.
Mark poured yet another pint, extending it towards her. However, as her lips brushed against the rim of the cup, a halt befell her as Captain Canarie's voice resonated through the air. "Alright, I'm done for the night, boys," he declared.
Lena's ears perked up at his proclamation, and in a fit of intoxicated excitement, she slammed her cup onto the table, causing the liquid to spill and drench her hand. Rising from her seat, she clumsily pumped her fist in the air with uncharacteristic glee. Turning towards the captain, who was already sporting a knowing smile, she exclaimed, "I've won! I've won, and now you have take me to Pearl Reef!"
Rising to his feet, Captain Canarie took hold of the woman's hand beside him, delicately kissing the back of her palm. "Actually, no," he responded.
Lena froze momentarily, a slight stumble betraying her inebriated state, her hand instinctively gripping the back of the extended bench to steady herself. "What do you mean, 'no'?" she retorted.
“I mean, you won’t be sailing with us. Go home and get yourself cleaned up.” he asserted, his arms now enveloping the woman, his chin resting against her shoulder.
“But you said if I won, I could sail with you,” she scornfully protested.
He gave her scant attention, burying his face deeper into the woman's neck. “I did, and now I say ‘nay,’ and as Captain, my words go. Crew?” he called out, his gaze shifting to the rest of the assembled individuals, who responded with chuckles, continuing to feast and drink. Some even raised their cups in amusement.
Her heart twisted and ached with a potent mix of anger and burgeoning tantrum. While she had never been one to behave childishly, weariness and sorrow pushed her beyond her limits. Yet, she bit her tongue, allowing tears to escape, their silent descent an embodiment of her seething emotions.
"You are a coward and unworthy of leading this crew," she spat venomously, her voice rising to a height that caused the tavern to fall into an uneasy silence.
The captain, along with his crew, took notice, and he withdrew from the woman's embrace, striding purposefully toward the distraught girl, his imposing figure casting a towering shadow. Their gazes locked in a glowering exchange, the tension in the air growing palpable. With gritted teeth, she uttered her final words, seething with disdain, "You are nothing but a pathetic liar."
"Take... her," the captain's command was resolute and concise, and in the blink of an eye, two of his crewmates seized Lena by her arms, their grip firm and unyielding.
She fought in their grip, “You can’t do this! What you’re doing is illegal. I’ll make sure your licenses as merchants are revoked!”
Laughter filled the air, intermingling with the boisterous revelry that engulfed the tavern. Captain Canarie, immersed in the mirthful atmosphere, joined in the cacophony, his voice resonating above the rest. "Who ever claimed we were mere merchants? We are Pirates!" he proclaimed, his words reverberating through the room, igniting a thunderous response from the crowd.
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𔘓⁩ ᵗⁱᵖʲᵃʳ
divider: @/saradika
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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 1 month ago
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Command Me
Feyd Rautha X Plus Size! Y/N - drabble/series - 1.7K WC
Part 1 (you are here!)
Part 2
Masterlist
Warnings: the Voice, mention of nudity, female reader, horny behaviors but no sex, voyerism, violence (nothing graphic), bad ass reader, enemies to lovers
----------------------------------------
“Stay in there and keep quiet.” the guard said as he tossed you to the floor after locking a device around your head.
You instinctively tried to pry it away but it stayed put, you were unable to speak let alone scream to be let out. You looked around the room; it looked like everything else on Giedi Prime - dark and lonely. Not even the blinding light from their black sun could penetrate the room. You had been sent to Giedi Prime as an offering. A wife for the Na-Baron now that you had both reached maturity. You knew you were fated to him, you had known your whole life. Plans within plans. The Bene Gesserit had made you just as much as they made Paul Atreides. You were from Tleilaxu. Both the Bene Gesserit and the Bene Tleilax had engineered your creation over generations, you would be the one to bring about a challenger to Paul Atredies’ heirs. And as fate would have it, a Harkonnen was the strongest match you could have. A vile race that nobody in the universe had anything good to say about. You had always known your purpose but now that you were starting to live it, you wanted nothing more than to run away or disappear all together. You had met Feyd Rautha once when you were both 15. He was a strange boy who took pleasure in others' pain. He had shown you a beating heart from a maid he had killed before you ran back to your mother screaming. After that you hadn’t seen him or had any contact. 
Until today.
The door to the room opened, you lifted your head from your hands and quickly scooted away from the intruder until your back was against the wall. The door shut and the room was once again encased in darkness but you could see the man's striking white skin. His eyes were dark and you could feel them on you. He knelt in front of you, you raised your hand to strike him but he caught your wrist. All you could hear was your heavy breathing and your heartbeat in your ears. 
“You are just as simple as I remember, Tleilaxan.” he said, grabbing your chin and looking you over. 
You narrowed your eyes at him. He was one to talk. Tleilaxan were pale just like Harkonnen. Black eyes just like Harkonnen. The only physical difference between you two was that you had hair and your teeth weren’t black, they were slightly pointed. You grunted, trying to combat his insult but the gagging device on your head stopped you. He let go of your chin harshly, tossing your head to one side. 
“I remember you, ya know. How frightened of me you were when we were teenagers. Running away to your mother like a child. How pathetic.” he said as he stood up. 
The lights in the room finally illuminated. You blinked a few times adjusting to your surroundings, it was a bedroom chamber. It looked lived in but neat; you stood but kept a distance between you and the man who you could now fully see - Feyd Rautha Harkonnen. He was different from the last time you saw him. Not as scrawny. Still lean but he filled out his armor with plenty of muscle. His face was much sharper. His eyes were sullen and distant. He looked cold, dangerous. You pulled at your gag again, trying your hardest to get it off. You could feel some sort of mechanism in the back, you could tell it required a key. 
“This is our quarters. We will share it but I expect you to make yourself scarce.” Feyd said, walking towards you. “You will stay here until the wedding in a few days.” his eyes searched your face but you weren’t sure what he was looking for.
You kept your gaze stern. You weren't afraid of him; you weren't a scared child running back to your mother. You were Tleiaxu, a Face Dancer. If anyone should be afraid, it’s him. You shapeshifted into an exact copy of Feyd. His eyes widened, stepping back slightly. You walked closer to him, your gaze never leaving him. The Bene Gesserit had made you more than a capable fighter. To be the wife of Feyd Rautha they had not only trained you in their ways of battle and the voice but had you train with the especially brutal Sardaukar. You kicked at Feyds knee when you were close enough. He countered your strike, holding your ankle and twisting it. You dropped to the floor, using your other foot to kick Feyd over your head. He released your ankle due to the sheer force with which you kicked him. You rolled backwards, straddling Feyds chest where you locked his arms between your legs. He kicked and thrusted trying to move you but you remained solid. You glared down at him, pointing at your gag. He chuckled, moving his hand slightly towards his pocket. You clenched your thighs tighter, stopping him from moving completely. You reached inside his pocket, finding something akin to a key. Quickly you unlocked your gag, tossing it across the room. You rubbed your jaw finally letting the muscles loosen. In your distracted state Feyd thrusted his legs up, catching your shoulders so your roles were reversed. He straddled you with a smile taking a small knife out from his back blade holster. The shock rocked you back into your natural state, the shapeshift of him disappearing. He leaned forward bringing the knife to your neck.
“STOP” you said, using the Voice. 
He halted his motions and you could see the anger on his face, you could tell he felt like you were cheating.
“GET OFF ME, STAND STILL” you said, standing as soon as he was off you. “GIVE ME THE KNIFE” he did just as he was instructed. You could see him trying to fight your orders but he simply couldn’t. Very few had developed the skill to disobey the power of the Voice. You pointed the knife at his throat, the very tip of it pushing against him almost drawing blood. “You breathe because I allow it. Do not make an enemy of me, Feyd Rautha.” your tone was threatening and full of venom. “GET OUT” you said finally, keeping his blade. You watched him leave. You knew he would be back later, most likely set on revenge. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 
You sighed as you explored your new home chambers. It was expansive, every room seemed to lead to another. A bedroom. A living room. A bathroom. A library. A viewing room overlooking all of Giedi Prime. A massive stairway that led to an upper floor which led out to the main halls of the palace. You weren’t used to the time difference yet, having only arrived a few hours ago but you could tell from the eerily empty, dark halls it was night time. You went back to your quarters, snooping through the closets and drawers. You found everything you could ever need; towels, blankets, bathroom supplies, dresses, armor, underwear, weapons, etc. The dresses were different from that on Tleilaxu. All black, all slightly resembling armor, yet soft and breathable. You shed your clothing, taking one of what you assumed was Feyd’s larger shirts and underwear to the bathroom. You filled the bathtub. You expected water but instead got some sort of strange, oily black substance. You dipped your hand in cautiously, rubbing it between your fingers. It had the feel of water. You shrugged, not really having a choice before you sank down into it. It felt strange, slightly thicker than water but it was making you feel clean. Just another adjustment you’ll have to make. 
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Feyd watched you from behind the two way mirror. He had grown up in this palace and knew it as well as his own body. He knew every secret it held. He watched you with confusion on his face. He felt embarrassed you bested him. You cheated, you used the Voice which he could not combat against. Yet he felt a strange sense of admiration. You exploited your opponents weakness. Clever. He could tell just from the reflexes you had during the fight that you were Sardaukar. What really amazed him was the shapeshifting. He had never seen a Face Dancer in person, only read of their histories. It was the greatest skill developed, rivaling the Voice of the Bene Gesserit. The fact that you had shapeshifting, the Voice, and advanced training - they may have picked him the perfect wife after all. You were far from the scared teenager he had met. When you rejected his demonstration of love, giving you a beating heart, a bitter seed towards you was planted. Yet your actions today made his insides stir with a wave of emotions he couldn’t quite place a description to. Admiration? That was the closest he could get. 
Seeing you in such a vulnerable state he was tempted to barge in and continue your fight, using the element of surprise against you. He almost made the move to, until he saw you start to wash over your curves. Sitting up on your knees in the bath to scrub over your body, he was hypnotized as the black water slipped down you. His throat tightened. You were a woman now, shapely and perfect compared to the twiggy women of Giedi Prime. His mind ran away with images of his hands gliding over you, everywhere. Your plush thighs, and soft tummy called out to him. He got closer to the mirror, you looked up for a moment meeting his gaze through the mirror, his breath hitched. You stood up, scrubbing the lower half of your body. His jaw dropped, you were the most beautiful creature he ever beheld. He begged for you to hold that knife to his neck again, just to have you close to him. He could feel the strain his cock made against his armor but tried his best to ignore it. As you rinsed the rest of the black from your skin he kept his eyes on your wandering hands, silently praying they would make their way between your legs. You stepped out of the bath, wrapping a towel around yourself before drying your hair with another. When he saw you slide one of his undershirts on he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning; his hips bucking forwards slightly out of pure want. 
He had to have you, he would do everything in his power to make you want him too.
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Naboo's Note:
Hello all! Haven't written for our favorite evil bald boy in a hot minute so I thought I'd deliver. I think I'm going to make this a mini series? I gotta come up with more of a plot because this was all just word vomit, gotta find a direction for it. I'm probably going to be writing more as the job search continues. I broke up with my boyfriend today so I will be distracting myself with the love of fictional men. I hope you are all doing well and thriving. Talk soon XOXOXOXOX!!!!!!
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weirdkpopgirl · 7 months ago
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A Little Help | Jaemin Imagine #14
Title: A Little Help
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: mentions of kissing -- light makeout session, suggestive dialogue (but nothing crazy)
Word Count: ~1k
Author's Note: This imagine was an idea I had for a very long time, but I just never got to writing it. For awhile, I went back and forth as to which member to give this story to. Ultimately, I'm weak for Na Jaemin, so I chose him. I know you guys like this sort of stuff too, so I hope you enjoy it (not too much though lol). Please look forward to my future works as well. Thank you for reading ^ ^
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Jaemin made his way into your cozy living room with a steaming mug of lemon tea in hand. His eyes quickly found you seated on the floor near the coffee table. Despite the dim lighting in the room, your face was illuminated by the soft glow of the laptop in front of you. Jaemin started to smile, observing how focused you were on writing the story you’d been working on for months. However, his smile froze when he noticed you nibbling your lower lip and sighing in frustration.
Quietly, he shuffled over to sit beside you on the carpet and carefully set down the drink on the table. You picked up on his presence immediately and glanced up at him with a small smile.
“Thank you,” you said, curling your fingers around the handle of the mug before taking a long sip of the warm beverage.
He instinctively reached a hand to tenderly brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything okay?” he asked in the calm, low-toned voice he typically used during late-night conversations with you.
You hummed in response, holding back from sighing again. “Yeah. I’m just stuck on this certain part of my story.”
“What’s it supposed to be?” Jaemin tilted his head, his dark brown eyes filled with a blend of curiosity and concern. His innocent question unintentionally made you hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the screen before meeting his gaze once more. 
“Well, this is when my main characters are supposed to have their first kiss,” you explained, already feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. “And for some reason, I’m struggling with the technicalities of it. It’s just frustrating because usually I don’t have much of a problem with these scenes.”
Although you felt silly admitting this to your boyfriend (of all people), your frustration outweighed your embarrassment. Jaemin was the type of person who never seemed fazed by anything, but you still expected him to tease you.
Instead, Jaemin wore a thoughtful expression, arms crossed over his knees. “Why don’t you try acting out the kiss with me? It might help you get a better feel for it.”
Eyes widening in surprise at his suggestion, you began to protest. “I-I don’t know, Nana. I mean, that’s a bit…” you trailed off, shyness instinctively taking over. 
But then you paused, considering his idea for a moment. It wasn’t actually that bad and might help you with this little dilemma. After all, he was your boyfriend, so being close to each other wasn’t out of the norm. Certainly when you were dating Na Jaemin, possibly the most affectionate man you knew.
“Hm, I guess it can’t hurt to try,” you conceded, moving your hands away from your laptop. 
Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Jaemin properly and he scooted closer with a warm smile. “You said it’s their first kiss, right?” he asked, recalling the brief context you gave him earlier.
You nodded. “Yeah…um. It’s supposed to start off slow and hesitant. But it becomes more passionate since the characters have been pining for each other practically forever.”
“Okay. Show me what you’re thinking, princess,” he said. Both the pet name and his soothing voice sent a shiver down your spine.
At first, you hesitated, before tentatively reaching out to take his hand, bringing it to your cheek. “Maybe it could start with him cupping her face like this,” you spoke in almost a whisper. “And then her hands could just be on his shoulders?”
Your initial unease wore off fairly quickly, and Jaemin felt his heart skip a beat as you continued to test different hand placements with him. He couldn’t help but find how your brows furrowed in concentration and the way you quietly mumbled to yourself, incredibly endearing.
“Then when things start to get more intense, his hands should go here,” you murmured, guiding his other hand to your waist. He suppressed a laugh, noticing how you were too focused to be flustered by the intimacy of the gesture.
Yet, as minutes passed without your lips coming in contact with his, Jaemin’s frustration simmered. He couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn to your soft, pink lips. Though your touches remained innocent, they only made the temptation increasingly difficult to resist. Growing tired of waiting, he gave into the impulse and leaned into capture your lips with his own. 
Immediately caught off guard, a soft gasp escaped you from the sudden kiss. You felt his hand on your back, pressing possessively, while his lips moved hungrily against yours. Midway into the kiss, you realize how unintentionally teasing you must have been when you were trying to work out the characters’ kiss in your mind. But before you could fully process what was happening, he pulled away. Seeing the light shade of red painted across your cheeks, Jaemin smiled in satisfaction.
“You need to know how the kiss feels so you can describe it in your story,” he reasoned, his voice teasing but earnest.
Despite being a blushy mess, you understood what he meant and smiled back. “You’re right. But I think we should do it again…you know, so I can be more prepared this time.” 
Your words made his grin widen as your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips met yours in a passionate dance, the story temporarily forgotten. Jaemin pulled you closer, his fingers delicately tracing your jawline. He could taste a hint of lemon tea on your lips, and a smile formed as you lightly tugged at his hair. It took all his self-control not to get too carried away, savoring the moment while keeping his desire in check.
 Even though Jaemin has kissed you dozens of times, each one reminded you of how insanely in love you were with one another. And in that moment, the characters and their story faded into the background, leaving only the warmth and connection between you two.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
previous masterlist -> current masterlist
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neochan · 1 year ago
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DAZED (M) - TEASER
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PAIRING. model!jaemin x photographer!reader
WC EST. 2k
WARNINGS. explicit smut, dirty talk, filming, praise, degradation.
A. NOTE. this is my rocky return to nct tumblr after being away for so long.
THE CAMERAS HEART BELONGED TO IT'S MUSE, AND NA JAEMIN WAS JUST THAT.
he might as well have been yours too, the curve of his jaw and the pout of his lips drawing every last shutter click off your finger tips. capturing snapshots of his lean body adorned in long drapes of designer fabrics or, at times, in nothing at all, felt like claiming a piece of an ethereal masterpiece. he was a man destined to illuminate the towering billboards that graced the skyline of new york city.
which is why this felt foreign - a camera trained on you by jaemins shaky hand. the flash blinds you momentarily before he quickly covers it and mumbles out an apology.
even in a momentary surprise, you don't need sight to find your way around jaemins body. the hard lines of his abdomen, his thighs a strong place to rest your hands, and his cock, standing proud against the flat of his stomach. you've put this image on film countless times, but now - looking up at the man you've stilled on paper...
it felt foreign.
"not used to this hm?" the sweet lilt of his voice brings your attention back to the phone in his palm, trained on the way you buckle to your knees.
chuckling, you slide your palms up the front of his thighs, "i've watched you enough to know the basics."
a smirk plays on the corner of his mouth, "then lets watch your pretty little self play naughty for the cameras."
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taglist > open!
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strljaem · 8 months ago
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“look at me, baby.”
💿: love on the brain, rihanna.
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The afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the window, illuminating my study desk as I tapped away at my MacBook keyboard. My black-framed glasses perched on my nose, my eyebrows furrowed in concentration as I flipped through the pages of my assignment book. As a PhD student with a bachelor’s degree in computer science, my work was demanding and relentless. I was deep in the zone, completely absorbed in my research, swinging my legs absentmindedly on the chair, my hair tied back in a ponytail.
Hours had slipped by without my noticing. It was nearing 3 PM, and I had been glued to my desk for at least four hours. Na Jaemin, my fiancé, always found it endearing how seriously I took my studies. He would often peek in from the door, watching me with a fond smile without wanting to disturb my workflow. Today was no different; however, he seemed more determined to ensure I took a break.
Just as I decided to take a short break, closing my laptop and grabbing my phone to chat with friends about our assignment, I heard the familiar creak of the door opening. My eyes were still fixated on my phone screen, my fingers typing aggressively against the clock with the due date looming. Then, a deep, gentle voice called my name, making my heart skip a beat. Jaemin’s voice was like honey, sweet and soothing.
I turned to look at him. Jaemin stood at the door, his silver comma hair perfectly framing his smooth, baby-soft face. His plump red lips curled into a smile that was both gorgeous and cute. He wore a black sweatshirt and grey sweatpants, looking effortlessly attractive. "Can I come in?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief and warmth.
“Yes, come in,” I replied, trying to maintain my composure. He entered, carrying a tray of mangoes, my favorite fruit. My heart melted a little more. He knew exactly how to brighten my day. “Here, you should stop working and eat these,” he said, dragging a chair beside my study desk and sitting next to me. He began his familiar nagging, gentle yet serious, showing how much he cared about my well-being.
I put my phone down and began eating the mangoes, listening to his words of concern. My eyes stayed glued to the plate, feeling guilty for neglecting my health. His voice, although serious, was a testament to his love and care for me. When he finally asked, “Do you understand?” in that sweetest, gentle tone, I nodded without looking at him.
“Look at me, baby,” he said in a deeper tone, sending shivers down my spine. I paused, my cheeks heating up. Slowly, I turned to face him, my mouth full of mangoes, resembling a hamster with stuffed cheeks. He chuckled at my appearance, finding it irresistibly cute.
“I understood everything,” I mumbled, swallowing the mangoes quickly. “I’m sorry for neglecting my health sometimes.”
He just stared at me, his eyes soft. “It’s fine. My responsibility as your fiancé is to always take care of you,” he said, making my heart swell with love. I smiled and replied, “You also, don’t forget to take care of yourself, especially as an idol.” His chuckle in response was the most handsome sound I’d ever heard.
After finishing the mangoes, I thanked him and gave him a peck on the cheek. Jaemin blushed, smiling shyly. “I’ll get going; I have to pack for tomorrow,” he said, reminding me of his impending departure for another concert. We had discussed this before our engagement, and although I missed him when he was away, I supported his dreams wholeheartedly.
As he stood up, picking up the tray, our eyes locked. The air between us was thick with unspoken emotions. I felt flustered, unable to hold his gaze. Jaemin, noticing my discomfort, reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on my cheek. His touch was electrifying, making my cheeks burn even more. He chuckled, knowing he had successfully made me blush, and then he said, “Bye-bye,” in the cutest tone, making me smile.
“Bye,” I replied, watching as he left the room, closing the door behind him. I took a deep breath, my heart still racing from our interaction. I covered my face with my hands, feeling a mix of shyness and joy. After a moment, I grabbed my water bottle, took a sip, and opened my MacBook again, a smile lingering on my lips. With renewed energy, I resumed my work, grateful for the love and support of my wonderful fiancé.
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mrmeowski · 5 months ago
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˚✦𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭✦˚
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Synopsis: It was a simple question—in your eyes at least, but apparently not for him. He took it personally and it went quickly out of hand. Now you have to face the consequences of him taking it to heart rather than answering it like a normal person then again, he never was normal.
CW: Suggestive
Pairing/s: Solomon x GN.Reader
Word Count: 2.0k
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It had been an exceptionally demanding day for Solomon, filled with myriad responsibilities and arcane studies. As the evening descended, casting an ethereal glow over the House of Lamentation, he found himself longing for your comforting presence. Yet, as he strolled past the imposing structure, your familiar figure was conspicuously absent. He sighed, a twinge of disappointment shadowing his features. Perhaps you had returned to Cocytus Hall earlier than usual, and he had just missed you. Deviating from his customary path, he meandered alone beneath the silvery moonlight, its gentle illumination guiding his steps.
The ancient door of Cocytus Hall groaned in protest as he pushed it open, the sound reverberating through the timeworn corridors. This grand, desolate place was home to only the two of you, and in truth, he preferred it that way. It meant he could savor your company without interruption, a rare and cherished luxury.
"[Name]..?" He called out, his voice resonating in the stillness as he shrugged off his coat, draping it over his arm.
The dynamics between the two of you often brought to mind a couple deeply intertwined, bound by an unspoken understanding and shared moments. The mere thought of it painted a tender smile across his lips, igniting a spark of hope that one day, he might place a ring on your finger, solidifying the bond you already shared.
"Sol, I'm in here!" Your voice echoed from the depths of the hallways, originating from the direction of your room.
Guided by your call, he navigated through the labyrinthine passageways until he reached your door. He paused momentarily, savoring the anticipation before gently pushing it open. There you were, a vision of comfort and familiarity, enveloped in a serene atmosphere that instantly put him at ease.
"Long day?" You asked, your eyes reflecting concern and warmth as you looked up from your book.
He nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, "You could say that. But seeing you make it all worthwhile." You smiled, patting the space beside you on the bed.
"Come, sit with me. I have a favor to ask of you." He settled down next to you, his cheek gently resting on your shoulder.
The warmth of his presence was comforting, a familiar solace after a long day.
"What is it..?" He inquired softly, his curiosity piqued.
Taking a deep breath, you could hardly contain your excitement.
"While I was out today, I heard a song... It caught my attention," you began, trying to stifle a laugh. "I can't remember the lyrics—it was barely audible—but I do know the tune." His eyes met yours, intrigued.
"Why not hum it to me? I might recognize the song." You grinned, knowing you had him hooked.
"Alright, but I need to warm up my vocals first, I don't want to mess this up!" His laughter was light and carefree, his gaze tracing the contours of your face, cherishing every feature. To him, you were perfect, imperfections and all.
After a mock preparation, you began, "It goes like this... nanana naaa na na, nanana naaa na na." Even without looking, you could sense the swift change in his demeanor, his smile faltering.
The tune was unmistakable—a song he'd encountered numerous times but preferred not to speak of.
He sighed deeply, standing up. But you weren't about to let him escape so easily. You followed him, singing playfully, "Don't you dare walk away and desert meee... Come back hereee, you sorcereeer." He turned to face you, your innocent smile meeting his exasperated expression.
"Happy now?" He asked his tone a mix of resignation and amusement. You nodded enthusiastically. "Well, that makes one of us. You know.. I'm this close to cursing you!" He warned, lifting his hand, his fingers forming an 'o' sign with the thumb and index finger almost touching.
You gasped theatrically, placing a hand over your heart in mock shock, "You don't mean it, do you?"
"Hmph!" He huffed, turning on his heel and striding purposefully down the hallway toward the living room.
"Hey now! Don't tell me you're that upset!" you called after him, laughter bubbling up. "Come ooon, you should have seen it coming! It is the day, y'know?" You paused by the doorway of the library, arms crossed as you watched him glance back at you, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"'The day'? What are you talking about?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly puzzled, until realization dawned on him. "Ah... I see. July 27th, the... song's release." He spat out the word 'song' as if it had personally offended him and his entire bloodline.
"Bingo!" You exclaimed, grinning widely.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Sometimes you're so childish... and cringeworthy." He turned away once more, heading deeper into the library.
"Excuse me?! Now, I might accept the latter, but... childish? Really now?! I'm not the one getting all worked up over a harmless prank, a joke, whatever you want to call it!" You threw your arms up in exasperation.
"Well, I'm glad you're at least self-aware." He pulled a random book from the decaying bookshelf and plopped down onto one of the dusty couches, a cloud of dust rising as he sat.
"Hey, don't just ignore the rest!" You marched over, standing in front of him with a huff. One glance at the book cover made you scoff as you sat down beside him. "So you're just going to ignore me now?"
Silence.
He stared blankly at the book, his eyes unfocused, lost in thought.
"Well, fine then." You turned away, casting a quick sideways glance at him before adding, "Oh, and by the way... the book's upside down." He blinked a few times as if snapping out of a trance.
"Ahem..." He coughed, hurriedly adjusting the book to the correct orientation.
The silence stretched on, an unspoken tension lingering between you. He occasionally flipped a page, but you doubted he was truly reading. The stillness was becoming unbearable, and with a resigned sigh, you turned to him.
"You know what, fine! I'm sorry, Sol." The words felt strange on your tongue.
Apologizing for such a harmless prank seemed ridiculous, especially when he, of all people, was the one acting childish. He glanced at you briefly before his gaze returned to the book.
"That's not enough," he said, his voice cold and cutting.
It was a tone you had rarely heard from him, one he usually reserved for when he was truly angry. For a moment, you were taken aback. The seriousness in his voice made you laugh nervously. Either he was genuinely upset, or he was being overly dramatic, which he had a penchant for.
"Not enough, huh?" You remarked, crossing one leg over the other. "Then what exactly do you want?" He grinned mischievously, closing the ancient, decrepit book and resting it on his lap.
"I want to cook for you."
"What..?" You blinked, unable to mask the horror in your voice.
His culinary skills were practically a biohazard. A single bite will send you to meet your maker.
"I said I want to cook for you," He repeated, his smile disarmingly innocent. "Lately, you've been avoiding my offers! Always suggesting eating out or claiming you're 'full'. It hurts me, you know... I just want to do something nice for my charming apprentice, hmm?"
"No!" You blurted out, recoiling at the thought.
"Hm..?" His smile faltered slightly, and you hurriedly continued, trying to salvage the situation.
"I-I mean... you could think of something else! Like... um... I'll do anything you desire! Just not involving the brothers or your cooking!" You were desperate to avoid his culinary experiments. "I just.. d-don't want to add to your workload. You've already had such busy days, and now you want to cook instead of resting?" He hummed thoughtfully, mulling over the idea.
"Even on the harshest of days, I'd do anything for you... but your suggestion," he said with a smirk, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "When you say anything, do you truly mean it?" You nodded earnestly.
"Yes! No matter how ridiculous it is—just don't involve the brothers." He tapped a finger to his chin, pondering your words. "So, deal or no deal?" you pressed, leaning in slightly.
His eyes sparkled with amusement as he met your gaze.
"Deal," he replied, his tone filled with playful promise. "But remember, you agreed to anything."
"Yeah, uh-huh. So how will you abuse this newfound 'power' of yours, hmm?" You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit uneasy, and starting to regret your decision.
He hummed thoughtfully, "There are so many things I desire you to do..." His voice had dropped to a lower, more suggestive tone, and his eyes roamed over you in a way that made you squirm. "But I guess... first, you should probably text everyone that you're sick today and won't be able to come out. After all, I don't want anyone bothering us..." Your brows furrowed at his suggestion.
"When you say everyone, that includes the brothers and the demon prince," you sighed. "I told you, they're excluded!"
"Ah, but I only speak of possible plans... not directly involving them," he teased, a sly smile playing on his lips.
"Still! It's about—"
"If you're not going to do it, then we shall revert to plan A. You know... I have so many dishes I want you to try!" He smiled innocently, seemingly unaware of how your skin paled at the thought.
"Haha! Of course, I'll do it!" You exclaimed, laughing nervously.
His smile widened, clearly pleased. "Good. Now, let's get started with our day."
You quickly pulled out your D.D.D. and sent a message to everyone, claiming you were feeling unwell and needed to rest. The replies came in swiftly, full of concern and well-wishes, but you barely registered them.
"Alright, done," you said, putting the D.D.D. away. "So, what's next on your agenda, oh master of mischief?"
"That nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly, doesn't it? I would've loved it if not for the last few words." The he old book slipping off his lap as he shifted his body towards you, hovering over you with predatory grace. A hand moved to your cheek, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down to your jawline. "Mind removing the extra words? I'd love to hear it more... in our room." Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestive tone in his voice, and you felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.
"Solomo—"
"Solomon?" He swiftly cut you off. "Didn't I tell you to call me something else?" You gulped hard.
You had only ever heard the brothers call you this, but actually saying it yourself... You had no choice; it was either this or certain death.
"You really love to tease me... m-master..." Your voice grew softer with each word, barely above a whisper.
"I don't think I heard you, my dear apprentice," he said, his tone insistent yet gentle.
You swallowed again, nerves getting the better of you.
"You really love to tease me, master," you repeated, louder this time, the word feeling foreign yet thrilling on your tongue.
"That's better...~" He purred, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Now, let's take this to our room, shall we?"
Once in your shared room, he gently laid you down on the soft mattress, still hovering above you. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke in a low, intimate tone. "I've been waiting for this moment," he murmured, his lips trailing a line of kisses along your neck. "To have you all to myself."
You could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.
"I never knew you had such a side to you..." You managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled softly, the sound sending shivers down your spine, "There's a lot you don't know about me," he replied, his voice husky with desire. "But we have all the time in the world to explore."
Sorry for this dumpster fire
Request» Masterlist»
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*•.𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃.•*
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honeyedmiller · 9 months ago
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Sir
ceo!joel miller x f!reader drabble
warnings: implied sexual thoughts / fantasies, sir kink, boss x employee, joel is a horny southern gentleman (real), implied smut, no use of y/n.
word count: 567
rating: explicit. 18+, minors dni.
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It was like clockwork.
That three letter word that you’d greet him with every single morning, without fail.
Good morning, sir.
…Sir.
It made his cock twitch in his slacks.
He found the whole thing a little ridiculous; you were innocent and kind in your pleasantries and greetings toward him. Yet he, the CEO of Miller Contracting, couldn’t keep his dick contained every time that word slipped past your lips.
It was like sweet honey oozing from your tongue, and he wanted to lick up every single drop of it.
He’d imagine that one day, your soft looking hands would knock on his door and you’d peek your pretty face in to ask him an important question, and he’d coax you in with that million dollar smile and thick, charming drawl.
You’d walk up to his desk, heels clicking on the floor as you stop just before the massive mahogany that sits near a floor-to-ceiling window which emanates a light that illuminates your face. He’d get a good look at you in your button down shirt and pencil skirt, honey brown eyes drinking in your figure as you watch him intently.
You’d quirk a brow at him as to almost challenge him to do something he shouldn’t do, but god, all he wants is to have his hands all over you, in you, letting your body as a whole consume the very being he is.
He wanted to become intoxicated by you; a drug he couldn’t give up. Nothing even a goddamn NA meeting could fix.
He’d pull you down to sit on his lap—no, straddle him—and you’d rut your hips against his, your skirt riding up to your hips. You’d kiss him ferociously; like you couldn’t survive without his lips on yours. Like you couldn’t breathe without his mouth on you.
You’d moan his name as he can feel the wetness in your panties, your aching core begging to be touched by him. You’d beg and plead for him—please sir, please touch me—and he’d oblige. You’d beg him with pathetic pleas spilling past your lips for him to fill you with his aching, pulsating cock. He’d want to ruin you.
You’d let him.
He’d make you feel things no other man has made you feel. He’d leave you unsatiated, though. You’d want to come back for more.
You’d always come back for more.
And a knock on the door startles him from his perfect daydream; one that has him hard and has precome sticking to his boxers. He welcomes whoever it is into his office.
It’s you.
You peek your head through the door with a small smile, and he swears he gets a moment of déjà vu.
You step into his office and close the door behind you, leaning up against it as you stare at him intently. You look down at the hard-on in his slacks, and you lick your lips as your eyes flit to his darkening gaze, dangerous and fueled with pure desire.
Come here, he says.
Yes sir, you oblige.
And fuck, he thought he was losing it when he realized his fantasy was materializing.
Maybe you knew exactly what saying that damned word would do to him. Maybe you knew he’d like it. You had him wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.
It was easy. Too easy.
Maybe you weren’t so innocent, after all.
And maybe Joel fucking loved it.
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divider by @saradika-graphics
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florawrites-blog · 8 months ago
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MR.LOVEABLE - NA JAEMIN
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Genre- romance, fluff, comfort
Now playing......
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In the bustling kindergarten where Jaemin was adored by all the children and the envy of the other teachers for his natural charm and kindness, you struggled to find your place as the newbie. The children seemed to gravitate towards Jaemin effortlessly, leaving you feeling overlooked and out of place. Despite your best efforts to connect with the kids, they remained distant, their preference for Jaemin evident in their interactions. Even the parents seemed to favor Jaemin over you, leaving you feeling isolated and alone in your struggles. One particularly challenging day, when one of the children fell sick, you did your best to nurse them back to health. But no matter what you tried, the stubborn child refused to cooperate, making your efforts all the more futile. Feeling overwhelmed and defeated, you fled to a quiet corner of the classroom, desperate to hide your tears of frustration from the prying eyes of the other teachers and parents. But before you could retreat too far into your despair, you felt a gentle touch on your waist, followed by the comforting embrace of Jaemin. With one hand on your waist and the other gently nuzzling your head against his chest, Jaemin offered silent solace in your moment of need. His presence was a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective shield against the outside world. From that moment on, Jaemin stuck by your side, offering his support and guidance whenever you needed it most. But as his presence grew more and more constant, so too did the tension between you, the unspoken feelings that simmered beneath the surface threatening to boil over at any moment. Caught between gratitude for Jaemin's kindness and the growing awareness of something deeper stirring within you, you found yourself navigating a delicate dance of emotions, unsure of where the path would lead you both. But one thing was certain—Jaemin's presence had brought a newfound light into your life, illuminating the darkness and filling your days with hope and possibility.
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Divider by: @h-aewo
Please don't steal or copy, thank you
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