#matriarch blogs

[ak319]

Yan Regent Consort x fem reader

Headcanon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

═════ ◈ ═════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her son?

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

He nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Begin.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Name?” you inquired, your voice steady.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

═════ ◈ ═════

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

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

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

A boy dancing as if he was possessed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now, you were mortal. Wounded. Vulnerable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

═════ ◈ ═════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

═════ ◈ ═════

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

Birds.

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

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

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

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

The moment the birds were released, the chaos began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you called him finally, after two painful days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I have made a... decision."

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

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

You saw him. Truly saw him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

═════ ◈ ═════

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nevertheless, it's all entertainment for him.

[askhivebusterbloom]

Actually in other universes, the changelings were reformed by giving away love, and as a result, they don't feed on love anymore. Everyone except for Queen Chrysalis were reformed.

“How long’s it been now? A hundred years or so? Can’t see these varmint ever changin’ their ways. Reckon maybe my world’s just plain cursed... Like Granny Smith used t’ say, 'Some trees just don’t bear no sweet fruit'.”

[lensman-arms-race]

I guess 'the hardware heads were human' was the unexpected twist of episode 77 that DafuqBoom mentioned recently. I really hate it. Like you I would've liked it better if it they've always been robots.

Do you have any theories on how that happened, do you think it's the usual sci-fi mind-uploading or something to do with portal?

Dafuq did say that the twist would be in part 3 (or part 4 if it ends up being split further) so I'm hoping that wasn't it and the twist is still to come!

By 'something to do with portal' I'm not sure if you mean the weird beam of light that we saw Cathy and co summon in the flashback ("opening the main gate"), or if you're referencing the game Portal, in which there is some 'human become computer' plot.

I really hope it's not mind-uploading in the sense that Cam Matriarch is literally just Cathy but in a new body. That's so boring and strips away everything I like about the techfolk! I want Cathy to be the creator and mentor of Cam Matriarch or something similar (which was why POV cam got reminded of Cathy).

I am disheartened by how many people seem to think that Cam Matriarch actually shapeshifted her appearance. No she didn't! It's a common cinematic technique! How is people's media literacy this terrible?

[lbigreyhound13]

Continued from Cold Fusion

Grey and Shadow flew over the chaos, and both of them fired plasma blasts at the High Central soldiers. Both the Chief and her Night Fury stared in shock at the sight of Nala fighting another large being with other dragons and their riders flying nearby. She had no doubt that her three kids were somewhere in that mix, and now she needed to focus on finding her husband and the Commander.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find Brandt with the other rebels fighting soldiers with Lila nearby. One soldier was advancing on Brandt from behind, and Grey wasted no time in jumping off Shadow legs first kicking the soldier to the ground causing Brandt to turn around.

“Oh hey, my love,” Brandt said with a smile.

“Hi,” Grey said with a smile of her own. “What did I miss?”

Silhouettes [Pt. 4]

[X]

Lila considers it for a moment before shaking her head. “No, the Nixes can handle it. You can help by rallying the other dragons and riders and blasting the guards along the walls. They’re grouped up right now, that’s a problem for us. Go make it a problem for them.” She says before adding. “Keep away from this gate. We have friendlies securing it.”

[anghraine]

The Mass Effect P&P AU is taking slightly clearer shape in my head and I think it ... very roughly follows the Mass Effect story with the character roles taken by P&P characters and the dynamics being necessarily affected by that.

I've been set on Elizabeth as Shepard and an asari Darcy from basically the start, and when I was deciding if I wanted Darcy to basically occupy Liara's role (personalities aside!), I thought "yeah, I can see asari Darcy going into academic research and being like, I don't care what everyone else thinks about the Protheans, I know I'm right!"

And then I was like... wait, is Lady Catherine Matriarch Benezia in this universe??? o_O

[brainrotandbarnacles]

One interaction I'm sad I never got to do when I roleplayed was Noctis and Imelda Rivera. Like I just know she would have adopted him in a second.

[lensman-arms-race]

I love this art and I love these two speakerheads! I hope we get to see them fight alongside one another.

Speakerwoman and Dark speakerman (?)

[filipmagnuswrites]

The Short Story Reads #33 - The Matriarchs by Lois Mei-en Kwa

Previous | Next Today, I read “The Matriarchs”, the debut publication of author Lois Mei-en Kwa. A millenia-spanning story, this piece relies on and finds the answer to its characters’ (and humanity’s) problems in the power of affect: The vehicle must embody freedom through literal structures of care. The vehicle itself will not be housed but must be able to house and protect the people who…

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

《Beloved's Veil》

Part IV

➺ Part III

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue through the window. The soft sound of ringing filled the air, and when he finally answered, you could hear the familiar rustle of fabric--he must be fidgeting again. “So, are you still hiding behind that counter at the shop, or have you finally stepped out into the world?” You teased like usual. His voice was low and slightly breathless as if your words sent a shiver down his spine. “I’m afraid the counter is my fortress. It protects me from the chaos... and from you.”

You chuckled, picturing him biting his lip, that adorable blush creeping up his cheeks. “Oh, so I’m the chaos in your life? That’s flattering, Habib."

“Not just chaos--delightful chaos. You’re the storm I never knew I needed.” There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, making your heart race.

The atmosphere shifted, thickening with unspoken feelings. “A storm? You make it sound so dramatic. I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“And you’re succeeding. I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s a delightful distraction... one I’m very much enjoying.” The sincerity in his voice made you smile. “Good. Because I’m thinking about you too. Your smile, your kind eyes... I miss them.” You leaned back against the soft cushions of your chair, the warmth of the evening enveloping you, taking a whiff out of your cigarette. “You’re making me blush again! You know I’m still not used to...this.” He laughed softly, and you could almost see him shyly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I’m just getting started. What if I told you I’d show up at your shop tomorrow?” You couldn’t help but let a mischievous grin spread across your face.

There was a moment of silence, and then a slight gasp. “You’d do that? But what if someone sees you? The whole village will talk!” His voice rose slightly in panic, but beneath it lay an undeniable excitement.

“Let them talk! I’m not afraid. I want everyone to know I come for you, not just the snacks, c'mon.” You could almost hear his heart racing on the other end.

“You have no idea how much that means to me when you say that. My heart might burst from happiness.” His voice was a tender whisper, filled with emotion.

“Good. Just remember, you’re the one who’s been keeping me at bay. It’s time to let me in, Habib.” You leaned forward, urgency in your tone, your heart pounding.

“I’m ready. Just promise me one thing.” His voice dropped, becoming serious, sending a tingle of anticipation through you.

“Hm? What’s that?” You held your breath, captivated by the moment.

“Promise me you’ll always come back.” The sincerity in his plea wrapped around your heart like a warm embrace.

“I promise. As long as you keep that lovely smile waiting for me.” You could almost see his soft smile lighting up the dimly lit room.

“Then I’ll wait... forever if I must.” His voice was filled with determination, a promise of loyalty that made your heart swell. “Wait... Are you smoking?”

You smirked, sensing the slight shift in his tone. “Maybe. Why? Lemme guess you don’t like it?”

His voice turned scolding but laced with concern. “Yes! Especially when it’s you!. You know that stuff’s bad for you. What are you doing!?”

“Relax, it’s just one.” You took another slow puff, letting the smoke escape through your lips.

“Just one?” His tone carried both disbelief and frustration. “You always say that. What happened to that promise you made about cutting back?”

You sighed dramatically, flicking the ash off the cigarette. “Well, that was before I got bored waiting for you to pick up.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault? (Y/N), you can't tease your way out of this! Not this time!” His playful irritation seeped through the phone, and you could almost picture his brows furrowing. “You’re seriously going to risk your health because I took a few seconds to answer?”

You took another drag, the smoke filling the silence between you two. “Relax, it’s not that big of a deal. I need to unwind sometimes y'know."

“And smoking is the only way?! I’m serious.” His tone softened, the worry now more prominent. “If I could be there right now, I’d take that cigarette right out of your hand.”

“Oh? And what would you do after that?” you leaned back into your chair, flicking the ash away. He shivered due to the sudden challenging tone and was confused about whether you were being your usual smug self or annoyed.

“I’d hold your hand and --hold it tightly... so you wouldn’t reach for another.” His words were soft, but they carried a depth that made your heart skip a beat. “You have no idea how much I care about you.”

For a moment, the playful banter gave way to something heavier, more intimate. The night outside seemed quieter, the breeze cooler against your skin.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’ll put it out--for you.” You smiled, stubbing the cigarette into the ashtray. “Happy now?”

There was a satisfied hum on the other end. “Very. I don’t want anything coming between us, not even that.” There was a quiet intensity in his words, and despite the teasing, you could feel the weight of his concern. “I’d rather be the one keeping you company.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden bold shift in tone. “Look at you, being all clingy.”

“I am no-not being clingy! It’s caring.” He indeed was clingy. There was a pause before he continued, softer now. “You mean a lot to me… I don’t want to lose you to something as stupid as a cigarette. How many times must I tell you?.”

“You’re really something, you know that? I have never put down a cigarette for anyone until you came along.” There was a soft chuckle on the other end, full of relief.

“And don’t think I won’t remind you next time you light one up."

"Geez Golrez," Oh, how he loves when you call him that. His own nickname, given by you. He doesn’t think that he could ever hear that name and not feel like he belongs, to you, and no one else.

"I think you enjoy it, making me worry sick." He shook his head in mild annoyance.

You laughed, feeling the tension from before melt away. “Maybe I do.”

"Not fair."

═════ ◈ ═════

The next day, Habib had breakfast as usual--quietly, keeping his head down to avoid being the target of his brothers’. He simply hoped to get through the morning and escape to his sanctuary, the shop. Thankfully, he made it without incident. But now came the hardest part, the waiting. As always, he didn’t know when you would arrive--perhaps now, or later in the evening. The anticipation gnawed at him.

For a fleeting moment, he considered using the shop’s telephone to call you. Just to hear your voice, to know when you might show up. But he stopped himself. He didn’t want to disturb you, so he buried himself in work, waiting like the patient man he had trained himself to be.

Then, a whisper. "Golrez?" His heart skipped. He spun around, eyes scanning the shop--but it was empty. Nothing. God, he really needed to stop letting his imagination run wild. But that voice... it had been so real. So clear.

No, it couldn’t be that. It couldn’t be him. He was free from it--from him. He had healed... right?

"Habib?" The voice again, but this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable sound of footsteps. His eyes snapped toward the entrance, catching your form as you stepped through the door. The headlights of your car dimmed behind you, the only remaining light outside coming from the solitary streetlamp flickering weakly.

For a moment, he just stared, the tension in his body melting as reality grounded him. It was you. Only you.

"You’re... here," he breathed out, his voice carrying a mixture of relief and something softer, more tender.

Finally, the waiting was over.

"I am sorry, a meeting held me back. You alright?" you asked softly, your voice gentle but observant.

Habib blinked rapidly, trying to ground himself. "Y-yes, wow, I didn't real-lize it's 7 already," he stammered, though his eyes darted away, betraying the truth.

"You don't look okay to me."

His breath hitched. There was no avoiding it anymore. "There is something you must know, (Y/N). You... need to know. I can't hide it from you, it's an injustice to you." His voice wavered as he spoke, and you could feel the weight of whatever was tormenting him.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to ease his tension. "You want to go somewhere private?" you asked, glancing around the shop.

The idea of being alone with you, at this time of night, sent a wave of nervousness through Habib. His mind raced. "Private? At this time?!" he whispered in disbelief, his voice barely audible.

Before he could gather his thoughts, his father entered, interrupting the moment. "Oh Ma'am (Y/N), so nice to have you here again," Mr. Kadir greeted warmly, his presence breaking the tension in the air. The two of you exchanged pleasantries, briefly discussing village matters, and the lighthearted conversation helped ease the heavy atmosphere. Habib found himself breathing easier, even if just for a moment.

But then, your voice broke through his thoughts, clear and direct. "Mr. Kadir, I humbly ask if I may take your son to discuss something. Perhaps, for a drive?"

All at once, the weight of the situation crashed back down on him. His father’s eyes flicked between the two of you, reading the subtle tension in the air. Habib could barely stand still, his body taut with anxiety and shame. He wasn’t sure how his father would react to such an open request, especially considering what might follow.

"My son?... um... I didn't realize," Mr Kadir began, his voice laced with a bit of surprise. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, what can you expect from an old man like me? My eyesight has long since weakened." You chuckled softly, a little amused, still waiting for his response, though your heart was just as anxious.

There was a beat of silence before Mr. Kadir spoke again, this time with more sincerity. "I am... very honored and happy, which I myself didn't realize I would be after hearing this, since, well, these things are frowned upon in our family." His voice carried the weight of tradition, but there was a lightness to it, too. His hand, worn from years of hard work, rested firmly on Habib’s shoulder, pulling him close to his side.

"But Habib here," he paused, a deep affection in his voice, "He deserves everything... so I allow you. I allow you to take him, but do be safe."

The warmth of Mr. Kadir’s words washed over Habib, though his nerves still buzzed. His eyes flicked toward you, wide with both surprise and gratitude. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected, but in this moment, he felt the weight of his father's love.

You smiled, a soft promise in your words. "Don't worry, he is in safe hands." There was a playful edge to your tone, but your gaze was steady, sincere. "Should I drop him at the shop or home?"

"Just drop him at our street, I'll come to pick him, ma'am." With that, the arrangement was made. Now, you and Habib sat in the backseat of the car, a thick silence hanging between you both. Outside, Odai stood guard, watching over the vehicle like a sentinel in the quiet night.

"So, speak, Habib." Your voice cut through the silence, gentle but urging.

Habib hesitated, his hand slowly moving to the back of his head, fingers working to untie the knot holding his mask in place. "(Y/N)..." he murmured as if seeking permission from more than just you.

"No, you don't have to." You spoke quickly, the words spilling from your lips. "If you think I brought you here expecting to see you--"

"No," he interrupted, his hand gently reaching out to touch yours, his fingers warm and steady. "I want to." His voice was soft, yet resolute, full of the vulnerability he rarely let others see. "Let me..."

Something in your heart stirred--a deep pang of something indescribable. Out of respect, perhaps even guilt, you looked away, your gaze falling to the shadows in the car. Why did you hesitate? Why couldn’t you bear to see the face of the man you longed for? Was it fear--for him, or for yourself? Could someone so gentle, so pure, truly deserve the eyes of a woman like you upon him?

"(Y/N)..." His voice broke through again, softer this time, as his hand returned to yours, squeezing gently. "Look at me, please."

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you trailed your eyes up from his hand, following the line of his arm to his face. And there, even in the dim glow of the streetlights, you were met with something you hadn’t anticipated--brightness, radiance, a purity that took your breath away.

His skin was fair, and flawless in a way that seemed almost unreal. The soft curls of his hair framed his face in such a way that you wondered how it could be possible for someone to look like this. Now uncovered, his eyes, spoke the depth of emotion, vulnerability, and kindness more profoundly that could only belong to someone as beautiful on the inside as they were on the outside.

He was perfect--too perfect--and in that moment, you understood why you had hesitated. The truth was, you were scared. Scared that someone so pure could be hurt by someone like you, someone who had seen and lived through far too much.

"How..." you whispered, not sure what else to say.

"Is it what you expected?" he asked quietly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You shook your head, at a loss for words. "No... you're more."

The softest smile tugged at his lips, and in that shared silence, there was nothing left to hide.

"I mean- I-" You stammered, but before you could finish, Habib gently guided your hand to his cheek, his warm skin soft beneath your fingertips. His gaze was unwavering, tender, filled with an emotion so pure it almost hurt to witness.

"It's nothing. Don't say it," he whispered, his voice soft yet full of conviction. "I showed you myself because... whatever you want to call it--beauty, a blessing--it was incomplete without you. And now, it's for you, just for you. These eyes are nothing if they’re not seeing you, this skin nothing if it’s not being touched by you, this hair is nothing if it’s not being played with by you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words seemed to dissolve before they could form. "You---don’t say that," you managed, your voice trembling slightly, overwhelmed by the sincerity of his words.

He smiled faintly, the curve of his lips bittersweet. "I will, because it's true. I am nothing without you."

You felt your heart skip a beat, the intensity of his devotion weighing on your chest. You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself as your emotions tangled in the moment. "Um-" you cleared your throat, struggling to find the right words, but all that came was a quiet breath. "I don’t deserve-"

"You deserve more than you think," Habib cut you off softly, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand. "More than you allow yourself to believe. And if I can be the one to give that to you, then my purpose is fulfilled. "

Habib's demeanour subtly shifts, the tender atmosphere becoming slightly heavier as if a shadow passed over the moment. He pulls back just a fraction, not breaking the physical connection but seeming to gather his thoughts, and you notice how his fingers tighten just slightly around your hand like he's holding on for reassurance.

"(Y/N)..." he begins, his voice quieter now, more hesitant. "There’s... something I’ve been needing to tell you. Something I’ve carried with me for years. It’s... it's not easy for me to talk about, but I can’t keep it hidden from you any longer."

You tilt your head, concern starting to bubble up, though you remain calm, waiting for him to continue. He inhales deeply, his eyes locking with yours, filled with uncertainty, as if he's preparing to unearth a buried secret.

"When I was younger—around sixteen—I... went through something. Something I can’t fully explain, even to this day." He pauses, looking down as if gathering the courage to continue. "I was... not myself for a time. Somehow I got...possessed. I barely remember much of it, but what I do remember..." He swallows, his voice trailing off as his fingers absently trace a pattern on your skin.

The weight of the confession lingers between you, and you can tell it’s a memory that haunts him deeply, a part of his past he’s reluctant to confront.

"Possessed?" you repeat, keeping your tone neutral, though your heart races slightly. You already know, but hearing it from his lips, in this context, changes the feeling entirely.

"Yes," he breathes, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "It was like... something else had control over me. I was sick...and I was dangerous. I hurt people--people I loved, hurt myself too. My family didn’t speak about it much after it was over. They believed it was better left forgotten. But I can’t forget. I’ve tried to move on, but..."

He trails off, and for the first time since you’ve known him, Habib seems truly fragile. His eyes flicker with fear--not of you, but of your reaction, of how you’ll perceive him now that you know this darker part of him.

You realize he doesn’t know that you already have an inkling of this part of his past. He’s carrying this burden alone, convinced it might change everything between you.

"I wanted to tell you earlier, but... I was afraid. Afraid you’d see me as someone... dangerous, or broken. But I can’t hide it anymore, especially now that you’ve seen... all of me." His voice cracks slightly, and he lowers his gaze, almost as if bracing himself for judgment.

There’s a long, heavy silence before you can find the words to respond, but Habib waits, his entire form tense, caught between relief and fear of rejection.

"It doesn't change anything, Habib." Your voice was soft but steady as you pulled him gently closer, feeling his uncertainty in the way his shoulders tensed under your touch. “I’m glad you opened up, that you trusted me enough to share this.” You ran your fingers gently through his hair, trying to offer him comfort in the only way you could at that moment. “I am thankful to God that you're safe, that you’re better now. I don't want anything else."

Habib’s eyes were glassy, reflecting the struggle he carried within. His voice faltered as he continued, "But (Y/N), I still feel... I still feel strange." His fingers twisted nervously at the hem of his sleeve. "As if it—he—is still here as if to take me away. I’m scared that if he comes back, I might go mad, and... I could do something to—to you!." His voice cracked, raw emotion breaking through. "I wouldn’t be able to live if that happened!"

You held his trembling hands, trying to soothe the storm inside him. "Hey, hey, listen to me. Look at me," you urged, your tone tender but firm. His gaze finally lifted to meet yours. "I am not scared. Not of whatever possessed you, and certainly not of you." Your fingers tightened slightly around his, anchoring him. "These things—they’re not something to be feared." You felt his breath hitch as he listened. "Got it? The only one who suffers most in all this is you, and I can't stand that."

His lip quivered as he struggled to find words, his body shaking slightly in your arms. You placed your forehead against his, trying to will him to believe in your words. "Be strong, Habib. Be strong for yourself... and for me."

For a moment, he seemed to hold his breath, letting your words sink in. Then, almost as if he was exhaling all the fear and tension he’d been carrying, he finally let go. His hands squeezed yours, just enough for you to feel him start to come back to you. His voice was low, fragile, as he whispered, "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You don’t have to worry about that," you replied softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. "You’ll never have to find out."

He nodded and rested his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “My mind has been... at ease ever since you came into my life. After so long, I felt as if I am alive. I want it to remain that way.”

“It will, my Golrez,” you assured him, a gentle smile gracing your lips. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the weight of his struggles resting heavily on your heart. “But look, it could just be your mind playing tricks on you. How about I talk to your father and take you to the city to see a psychologist? Or, if you prefer, I can have them come here to my bungalow.”

His eyes widened slightly, shaking his head vehemently. “No! You... you don’t have to--”

“Habib,” you interjected softly, cupping his cheek with your hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him. “Getting checked by a psychologist is normal. It’s important for you. Don’t think of it as a taboo or let that fear of ‘rumors’ take over. For God’s sake, I don’t care what people say.” Your voice grew firmer, imbued with a fierce protectiveness. “What matters is your well-being. People talking are not important! You need to start living on your own terms.”

His gaze searched yours, uncertainty flickering in the depths of his beautiful eyes. You could see the battle within him—the fear of judgment and the desire for healing. You leaned closer, allowing the warmth of your presence to envelop him. “I’ll be right by your side, I promise. You don’t have to face this alone.”

“No, it’s not that… it’s my… brother, my older one. He won’t approve of all this, like my father did. He’s very serious about these things. Hell, he doesn’t even know about us. Nobody except Rahim and now… Father does.” The mention of his brother sent a ripple of concern through you, Maya’s warning echoing in your mind, reminding you of the torment Habib endured.

“Is he… y’know, a bit too strict?” you asked hesitantly, watching for any sign of discomfort.

A small nod was all you received, but it spoke volumes. It was enough to confirm your suspicions about the family dynamic. Your jaw involuntarily clenched.

“Fine, he may not approve of us now, but what if--what if we don’t even give him the chance to disapprove?” You searched Habib’s eyes, trying to convey your determination.

“W-what do you… mean?” His confusion was palpable.

“Marry me,” you said, your voice steady despite the gravity of your proposal.

“Become my husband and start your life with me at the bungalow, fresh and new. If you say yes now… then I’ll come in a few days to ask for your hand from your father.”

The shock on Habib's face was immediate and profound. His eyes widened, mouth slightly agape, as if he were processing the weight of your words. “Y-you will?” His voice trembled, a mix of disbelief and hope washing over him.

“Yes,” you affirmed, your heart racing with the weight of your promise.

He let out a choked laugh, covering his face with one hand, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. “I--I --Yes! I-I’ll talk to my father as soon as I can, and then… yes!.”

You pulled him into a hug, and he shyly returned it, clutching you tightly as if you were his lifeline. The warmth of his body against yours sent a rush of comfort through you, solidifying the bond that was forming.

“I love you, with every fibre of my being,” he whispered, his voice muffled against your shoulder. The sincerity of his words wrapped around both of you, creating a cocoon of warmth and hope for the future. "I love you too, my Golrez."

═════ ◈ ═════

"Where are you both coming from? Isn't it later than usual?" Basim questioned as he watched his father enter with Habib trailing behind.

"Habib had some work left at the shop, so I was waiting for him. I was talking to my friend at the end of the street," he replied, trying to maintain his composure.

Basim scoffed, throwing a glance at his other brother, Samir, who lounged in the veranda, his gaze dripping with mockery. "Baba, as if you ever leave Habib alone for a moment."

"You are calling your own father a liar? What is it to you?!" His voice rose defensively, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath his anger.

"I’m just asking! After all he’s been through, you shouldn’t leave him alone, for his own sake," Basim shot back, crossing his arms.

The tension in the air thickened as Habib stood silently, feeling the weight of their scrutiny

"Basim, just let your brother be. Let him forget all that and be strong. He needs to overcome it now that he's working. He's doing the job very well," Kadir said, his voice firm but laced with concern as he beckoned Habib to go to his room. Habib hurried away, feeling the tension in the air like a thick fog.

As Kadir turned to leave, Basim halted him, his expression grim. "Baba, don’t think I don’t know what’s going on. That DC and him—I am aware."

"So?" Kadir replied, a frown forming on his brow.

"So?! Are you serious--wow! Do you even realise what that means? Our family's reputation, Baba! Our honour! How can you let some modern woman from the city ruin all that?" Basim's voice rose, laced with frustration.

Kadir's eyes narrowed, sensing the underlying jealousy in Basim's words. He could tell that this concern was less about family honour and more about Basim's own insecurities, feeling overshadowed by Habib's connection to you.

"Don’t talk about her like that. She’s a good, educated woman. An honest officer,” Kadir snapped back, his patience wearing thin.

“Bullshit! It’s all a facade!” Basim shot back, his voice dripping with contempt. “An honest or good woman wouldn’t go out frolicking with someone's son--especially our brother! Of course, she chose him! People must have filled her ears with all that--him being beautiful here nonsense, so she took the first chance to trap him! And even your dearest son, after going out, did the very first shameful thing he could think of! Is that why you wanted him to work?! It’s all lust, Baba nothing else! I don’t care who the hell she is! He is not going to meet her, otherwise, Baba, you don’t want to know what I will do.” He has already done enough. Kadir scoffed in his mind

"Don't you dare!" Kadir’s voice boomed through the house, sharp with authority. "Just leave Habib alone! I swear, Basim, if you interfere in this matter, you’ll leave yourself no choice but to leave this house with your family! You hear me?!"

"You’re going to kick me--your eldest son--out of this house?" Basim spat, his voice teetering between shock and outrage.

"Hell, I will." Basim's eyes darted to Samir, seeking support, but even his brother stayed quiet, knowing better than to get between them now.

Without another reply, Basim stormed off, Samir trailing after him, his discomfort palpable in the tense atmosphere. Kadir watched them leave, shaking his head, a sigh escaping his lips. He turned to see Rahim and his wife, Dana, standing at the terrace, concern etched on their faces.

But Kadir overlooked Habib, who was hidden behind the wall, fists clenched tightly at his sides. His mind was a whirlwind, spiralling into chaos at Basim’s words. Each accusation felt like a dagger, twisting deeper into him, filling him with anger and confusion. How could his brother not see the truth?

How could Basim reduce what he felt to mere lust? And the way he talked about you--about your intentions--it churned Habib’s stomach. Every word had been laced with bitterness, turning something beautiful into something vile.

"U-uncle? You okay? I apologize on my dad's behalf-"

"It's fine, Rahim," Habib murmured, his voice distant as he offered a faint, reassuring smile. He gently caressed Rahim's face, the boy’s concern piercing through the haze of anger swirling within him. Without another word, he turned away, making his way to his room. The door clicked softly behind him, but the sound felt louder in his mind--a barrier between him and the chaos outside.

Part V

[askhivebusterbloom]

Obviously you're dealing with something different than what we know to be changelings, Bloom.

My world did not get this magical transformation that made them more acceptable to what we call standards of "beauty". My Equestria has enough love to share openly and willingly with our changeling neighbors.

Perhaps you could describe these creatures in your own words, as professionally objective as possible?

"Ah believe the first two generations of skitters did feed mostly on "love" – or at least somethin' close t' it – when the Matriarch was still out in t' field. Problem is, they drained 'em ponies 'till they were as dry as a darn raisin. Unlike y’all, I reckon antiquity didn’t have THAT much sweet feelings to go around for 'em."

[lensman-arms-race]

I AM EXPLODING INTO 500 PIECES

[Sees the tag 'Sabre is a butch woman to me'] Yesss you see it too!!

posting this here too cuz I worked my ass off drawing this for a good 4 days

[lensman-arms-race]

Have you noticed how TV Woman has (seemingly) never spoken once throughout the entire series so far? I actually really like that about her! Girl don't need words!

My headcanon is that her voice is so deep that the Cams' microphones can't pick it up. (That's why in my stories, the TV Imperator has to pitch their voice up so that Phaeton the human can hear.)

Another possibility: she sounds the same as the TV Men but dislikes it and wishes she had a more fem voice, or she does have a fem voice and wishes she had a deeper voice to match her comrades, so she prefers to not speak.

[lensman-arms-race]

Now that there is more content for the camerawoman, you have any headcannons for them? Shes my fav so far.

She is a head cannon lol

I like her a lot and I want to hold her head like burger. 🍔

I reckon she has to sleep lying on her side, or on her front with her head hanging off the mattress (because her head is so long). Sleeping on her back isn't an option because the gun is in the way. (Maybe she has a custom mattress with a face hole, hee hee.)

I think she's the most easy-going of the three Matriarchs, and doesn't mind others taking the spotlight as long as the work is done by the end of the day.

[karlachismylife]

The Queen of the Clan Masterlist

When you decide to shake up your life a bit and partake in a trip with a documentary crew, you have no idea that meeting an unnaturally friendly hyena and have it mark your backpack would be only the beginning of weird things to come. Whatever will you do when a leaderless clan of four male hyenas chooses you as their matriarch?

CW: hyena shapeshifters 141 au, fem!reader, written with chubby!reader in mind. Will be adding tags as the story progresses.

Part 1: Spotted Your first big animal encounter goes a little bit wrong. Or does it?

Part 1.5: [redacted] Johnny tells the rest.

Part 2: Tough Spot While trying to get over your things being ruined and get back to work, you find a new human friend. And four non-human ones. Which can save your life though?

Part 3: Blind Spot A respectful ghostly guest guards you through an important mission to pee in the middle of the night.

Part 3.5: [redacted] Simon comes back to the den.

Part 4: A Spot of Lunch You forget about your weird feeling for a moment, when two playful furry babies come visit and bring a gift.

Part 5: Spot on the Mark You have an unexpected visitor on a night stakeout.

Part 6: Local Spot A short procedural delay sends you back to your temporary home at the sanctuary, and a friend shows you around.

Part 6.5: [redacted] Coming soon.

Singular spin-offs/AUs to the AU

Hyena Cerberus!Ghost headcanons

It's a Trap!

Tale of Four Danaës Coming soon.

Taglist: @elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475 @cryingpages @mothsdrabbles @mc-glare-is-king @vixxie22 @aldis-nuts @terraantarctica @henhouse-horrors @blizzivy @perfectus-in-morte @danielle143 @llavalada @yukichan67 @sleepisfortheweakpooh @ilxina @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @misscaller06 @etherealinthewoods @svnh6021 @pleasedontaskme @shadowentity6 @everything-is-awesomesauce

If you want to be tagged in each part of the series, comment under this post! Keep in mind that this series will contain NSFW moments, so minors and ageless blogs DNI!

All headers and dividers used in the series by @saradika-graphics

[lensman-arms-race]

Oh, I love this! I like her ragged antennae and the checkered background.

^w^ -_-

girl help i accidentally got into skibidi toilet lmfao i might just make a seperate blog just for this so i keep thid one mainly msm xdxdxd

[lensman-arms-race]

Tvwoman better be alive

Oh, I'm certain she is! My question in my thoughts post was whether she successfully teleported the Scientist Toilet rig with her (so the Alliance can potentially use it again) or whether she was able only to teleport herself.

I doubt DFB would give such a prominent character an anticlimactic offscreen death like that.