#I WILL AFTER I GET BACK FROM MY EVENT TRUST
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The Song of Loneliness
The Fall from The Heavens Universe Chapter
[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]
[ warnings: masturbation, sexual tension, smut, angst, trauma related to sexual experiences and their description, sexual experience of a minor (brothel), manipulation, swearing, description of discomfort associated with menstruation ]
[ description: The events that took place between the beginning and the end of chapter two of The Fall from the Heavens, i.e. the memories of Aemond and Rheanys as children and later, just before their reunion after many years. ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
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𝕽𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖘
"Where are we going?" He asked uncertainly, seeing her excited face, which meant she had a plan in her mind that he might not like. Her lips curved into a wide, happy smile at the thought.
"To the Dragon's Pit." She explained, and her uncle froze in half-motion and stopped.
"I don't want to." He replied coldly.
She looked at him in surprise, seeing his discouraged, distant gaze, his jaw clenched in discomfort.
"Don't you trust me?" She asked softly, bestowing on him a comforting, warm smile, meant to add credibility to her attitude. Her betrothed swallowed hard and hesitated, pressing his lips into a thin line.
"– I – well – I do –" He muttered finally, defeated.
Although she tried to converse with him on various light topics that usually aroused his interest, such as their lineage or history, her uncle remained sullen and silent, gazing indifferently out the window of the carriage that had taken them from the Red Keep to their destination.
When they stepped outside, the dragon guardians were already waiting for them, assuring her that everything was ready.
Larax squirmed with joy at the sight of her, the sound she made reminding her of the squeal of a small child – she was still quite tiny, her silver-blue scales shining as she swept her wings, hopping in place as if to show her how happy she was to see her.
She was like a puppy that could breathe fire.
Her uncle seemed shocked – he walked a few steps behind her, aloof but intrigued at the same time. Her dragoness, although wearing a long chain around her neck, had quite a lot of freedom of movement and came running to her as soon as she knelt down in front of her, cuddling her head into her breast. She lifted her gaze to her betrothed, smiling.
"Marriage is sharing everything, becoming one. This means that Larax belongs to you from now on as well, and I wanted you to get acquainted." She said excitedly.
Her uncle swallowed hard, clearly shocked, his lips twitching in a shy smile of disbelief, from which heat filled her heart.
He knelt down beside her, but stepped back immediately, frightened as Larax hissed, in her dragon mind defending her from the strange intruder.
"Daor, Larax! Lykiri! Lykiri." She called out, stroking her back reassuringly, wanting her to understand that they were in no danger.
"– give me your hand –" She said softly, extending her palm to him. Her uncle allowed her to take his fingers in hers, and after a moment, keeping them entwined together, she placed his hand on her head.
Feeling the familiar and unfamiliar scent at the same time, Larax froze, breathing anxiously, as if wondering how she should react. She could hear her uncle's heavy, excited breathing behind her as she began to stroke her scales with his palm in soft, slow movements.
Larax calmed down after a moment, recognising that, indeed, the small creature that accompanied her rider was no threat to them. She laid her head on her thigh, gazing at the strange newcomer, and she let go of his hand, allowing him to touch her alone.
Her betrothed leaned slightly over her shoulder to get a better look at her dragoness, keeping a safe distance, however, so as not to provoke her.
"– what do you think of her? –" She asked lightly.
Her uncle was silent for a long moment, stunned.
"– she is beautiful –"
𝕬𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉
"A man should not run after a woman, Your Grace. It's a sign of desperation and weakness not befitting your position." Criston Cole said to him coolly, taking him aside after one of their trainings in the courtyard.
He had hurt her by not letting her kiss his cheek in the presence of the others and he just wanted to fix that, make her smile again.
He swallowed hard, feeling a wave of shame and discomfort fill his lower abdomen at his harsh words and impatient gaze.
"– she's good to me – I just didn't want her to be sad – we're betrothed –" He muttered, looking at the ground beneath his feet, embarrassed by this conversation.
Cristone Cole looked away and shook his head, as if he didn't believe what he was hearing.
"– it's just appearances, my Prince – her mother wants her to manipulate you and push you away from your brother and your family –" He replied dryly, and his words left him stunned.
"– she had never –"
"– only a naïve man allows a woman to rule over his mind – keep your dignity and do not allow her into your heart as anyone other than the mother of your future children –"
For some reason, his words and their overtones hurt him deeply and he himself did not know what he should do, what was expected of him.
The septon had always told him that a good husband looks out for the safety and well-being of his wife, listens to her, and sometimes allows himself to be weak in her arms in order to experience relief.
He said that if his wife reciprocates his endeavours, their marriage will be peaceful and successful.
Indeed, by following these rules and observing her efforts towards him, he felt a pleasant contentment and satisfaction. His niece did not impose on him or order him to change his habits, just as he did not require her to do so.
What's more, she supported him every step of the way in his daily duties, and in moments of sadness or fear, which he refused to admit out loud, she allowed him to take refuge in the warm embrace of her soft arms.
The thought that he should reject all this and build a wall between them seemed to him, despite all his doubts, inappropriate and hurtful to her when she was trying so hard to make him content.
He decided that when she came to his chamber at night he would tell her not to do it again and send her away.
She, as soon as she crossed the threshold of his quarters, ran to his bed and jumped onto the sheets, hiding under the soft, warm furs at his side, sighing in relief, immediately snuggling into his body. He swallowed hard, feeling a pleasant shiver run down his spine, and thought they could lie like that for a while before he told her of his decision.
"– I am grateful to you for being so good to me –" She whispered, lifting her head, wanting to look at him. He nodded, not embracing her as was his usual habit, looking dully ahead. She raised herself on her arm, seeing his complete lack of reaction at her words, frowning.
"– uncle? – is something bothering you? – you can tell me –" She added immediately, moving closer to him, leaning over his face – her eyes were shining in the darkness of his chamber, her dark brows arched in sadness and worry at his condition.
He swallowed hard, looking at her with his lips parted, his hand involuntarily touching her cheek.
It was soft and warm.
Do not come here again.
He thought that phrase in his head, but instead his hand forced her to lean in, her moist, puffy lips pressed against his in a soft, soothing kiss.
He could feel his heart pounding fast, how hot he was with excitement, how his whole body screamed that this was what he wanted, this was what he needed.
Her, as close as possible.
He hugged her to his chest, pressing her face to his neck, and closed his eyes.
"– it's nothing –"
𝕽𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖘
"I would like to discuss with you… a delicate matter." Said her mother, sitting down next to her a few months after the King had announced her betrothal to her uncle. She nodded, sensing that she was about to hear something important.
"I want you to understand that your nuptials with Alicent's son and what they entail will not take place until you reach the age of fourteen." She said slowly, as if she wanted her daughter to understand exactly every word she spoke.
She nodded her head slowly, looking at her with big eyes, pressing her lips together in some kind of disappointment.
"Why do I have to wait so long?" She asked uncertainly – her mother twisted restlessly in her chair, placing her hand over hers.
"My love, Aegon… from what I've heard, I know he likes the company of girls. That he likes to touch them in places that only a husband can touch his wife. I wanted to ask if his brother, and your betrothed, is also trying…" She did not finish, clearly not knowing how to put into words what she wanted to convey to her.
She cocked her head, curious, understanding after a moment what she meant.
"– does my uncle slip his hand under my nightgown? –" She asked lightly, her mother squeezed her hand tighter at her words, turning pale.
"– yes – yes, my love –"
She shook her head quickly, and Rhaenyra sighed in relief, clenching her eyes.
"– no – but sometimes, when we're alone and we're happy, our lips meet –" She muttered, embarrassed, swinging her legs sitting on a chair that was too high for her.
Her mother laughed under her breath.
"– I see –"
"– is it a sin? – can I expect his child because of this? –" She mumbled out quickly, choking out what she had wanted to ask her for a long time, terrified of the disgrace she would bring upon her betrothed if it turned out that she was carrying his illegitimate offspring.
Rhaenyra burst out laughing, shaking her head, her hand stroking her hair affectionately.
"– no, my love – it is merely a tender expression of affection that can be shared with one's betrothed –" Her mother replied calmly, and she smiled broadly, comforted and reassured, thinking that she would place many warm, sweet kisses on her betrothed's lips that evening.
𝕬𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉
"– no – forgive me, Princess, but it is impossible – your request is unworthy of a lady –" He heard Criston Cole's voice directed towards his betrothed as he stepped out into the courtyard as he did every morning – he escorted her away with a surprised, uneasy look as she nodded her head and walked away, without bestowing even a single warm word on him, as was her custom.
He did not dare to ask Ser Criston what she was requesting; he found out later, when, concerned by her absence in the library, he paid her a visit in her chamber.
She was lying on her bed, her face red from the tears she had surely shed immediately after their brief exchange of words – she was no longer crying now, but her eyebrows arched in pain when he asked her what had happened.
"– my mother gave me a dagger so I could defend myself when I am alone – but what good is it to me if I can't use it? – I wanted Ser Criston to teach me how to hold it – I wanted to be like your Visenya –" She confessed sadly, her last words like a mumble, her eyes flooded with tears again as she burst into sobs.
He stared at her with wide eyes, not knowing completely what to say or think about her unusual request.
She was a woman and the image of her holding a weapon seemed unnecessary and ridiculous to him, however, her words planted a seed of uncertainty in his heart.
What if someone harms her in his absence?
Threaten her life?
Once he was her husband, he thought, he would be her protector by day and night, but until they were married, he could not fulfil that role.
He left her chamber, making her think for certain that he now despised her as well, he, however, returned a moment later with a small straw target in the shape of a man with spots marked on his body. His niece rose on her hands, looking at him with big eyes as the door closed behind him.
"– come here – I will teach you the basics –" He muttered lowly, serious, feeling a pleasant satisfaction at the thought that he would now be her teacher and she would have to obey him.
His betrothed beamed all over, a light, sweet giggle left her lips that made him hot.
"– turn your back on me –" She ordered cheerfully.
"– why? –" He asked.
"– my dagger is hidden only in a place known to me – not even you can know where it is –" She said in an unobjectionable voice – he sighed and rolled his eyes, turning away reluctantly, impatient.
He heard a creak and a quiet rustling, and a moment later his niece was standing beside him with a beautiful short dagger created from Valyrian steel, with a handle in the shape of a dragon's tail, holding it as if she were wielding an axe.
"– you're holding it the wrong way – lower it so that the blade is in horizontal position – yes, just like that –" He praised her as he grabbed her wrist and forced her to lower her arm. She nodded, apparently writing down in her head this important remark.
"– the main rule is: don't cut as if you have a sword, because your opponent will grab your wrist and snatch your weapon away – just stab – at your height, preferably in the stomach or thighs, right here –" He said, demonstrating the move she should make by pretending as if he had the weapon, hitting the spots he mentioned with the front of his clenched fist.
He stepped back and watched with wide-open eyes as his niece, with an expression of great fierceness and anger, began to stab the hay puppet, as if she actually imagined that it was someone who wanted to harm her.
"– enough – enough, surely it's already dead –" He muttered, pulling her away, looking at her in disbelief, thinking that with such a commitment perhaps she would even be able to wield a sword.
"– did I do it well, uncle? –" She asked excitedly, curls of her hair stuck to her cheeks red with emotion.
"– yes – very well –"
𝕽𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖘
After her uncle lost an eye and her mother remarried, they stopped visiting the Red Keep. Her betrothed, to her despair, did not write back to her first letter or the many that followed, in which she asked him about his health and when she would be able to see him again.
Accustomed to his daily presence, despite being surrounded by her siblings, she felt lonely. Her bed was cold and empty without his warm body beside her, without his tender hand to stroke her head as she fearfully awoke again and again from a terrible nightmares.
One morning she woke up feeling discomfort between her thighs. She moved higher, wanting to look at the liquid that covered her skin and screamed involuntarily when she saw it was blood.
Her mother, as soon as she found out, came to reassure her.
"Do you remember our conversation when I told you that a woman blooms like a flower? This is what has just happened. It means you will be able to give your future husband children." Said her mother, covering her tightly with furs, already lying in a clean nightgown and smallclothes to prevent her from dirtying the bedding again.
She nodded, and as soon as Rhaenyra left, she broke into tears.
Although it was supposed to be an uplifting moment, it wasn't at all – she felt discomfort and contractions in her lower abdomen, she didn't have the strength to get out of bed, and she felt blood flowing again and again from between her thighs.
She thought it was a disgusting feeling, and she felt even worse at the thought that it meant she would soon be ready to get married.
Her betrothed didn't want her, and her mother began to speak more and more boldly about her possible nuptials with her cousin.
She closed her eyes at this thought and swallowed hard, holding back the tears of regret that were again pushing against her eyelids.
That day she took out the parchment and quill again, thinking in the back of her mind that even if he threw her letters into the fire and didn't read them, she needed to confide in someone and she wanted it to be him.
She began to write, for the first time not thinking about the content of what she had to communicate, letting her thoughts flow.
Today, something terrible happened, and although I know these things don't concern you or may even cause you disgust, I can't confide in anyone else about my suffering. My bloody flower has blossomed. My mother says that I have now become a woman, but I feel nothing of the sort. I feel dirty, I feel pain, I feel ashamed. I don't want to be a woman. I don't want to be a wife. I don't want to be a mother.
She cried out loud as she wrote the last sentence and rolled the parchment up, ordering it to be sent to King's Landing into the hands of the Prince before she could change her mind.
𝕬𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉
To his surprise, despite not answering her, he would find her letters waiting for him, lying on the top of his table exactly every two months.
At first he never wanted to read them – he even thought about throwing them into the fire, but then curiosity won out and he would sit down in front of the fireplace, unrolling the parchment.
He read what she had written, imagining her voice, that she stood behind him and whispered it all in his ear, embracing him, confiding in him.
He felt a squeeze in his heart, feeling the suffering behind every letter she wrote down for him, her expression of longing and sadness, loneliness and loss.
He himself was more lost than ever.
His brother surprised him when, on his Name Day, when he turned exactly thirteen, he announced to him that it was time to get it wet.
He did not understand what he meant.
It was only when he led him under cover of darkness to one of the buildings he had evidently visited himself that he noticed with embarrassment the curves of the half-naked women they passed, whom Aegon evidently knew, greeting them along the way.
"– we should not be here – our mother –" He muttered, but his brother shushed him.
"– shut your mouth, mummy's boy – today you will become a man –" He hissed, tapping his index finger against his forehead, as if to show him that he was a fool, a silly little boy.
He clenched his jaw in rage at the thought, recognising that, indeed, he was already a grown man.
Or at least he thought he was.
The woman he took him to was pretty, but much older than him.
He thought she could be their mother.
When Aegon left them alone he did not know what to do with himself – he felt both excitement and embarrassment at the same time, not really knowing whether he wanted it or not.
Aegon said that laying with a woman was very pleasant and gave a feeling of immense relief.
He wanted to feel relief.
The woman reached out to him encouragingly, telling him not to be ashamed, to lie comfortably on the bed and let her take care of himself.
He didn't know what she meant, but decided that since she was more experienced, he should listen to her.
The feeling of being inside her was terrifyingly foreign and uncomfortable – he swallowed hard, looking wide-eyed at her stomach, afraid to look at her face, clenching his hands into fists on the sheets.
She has never touched me like this, he thought.
Rhaenys had never touched me like this.
He was furious with himself, but he felt tears burning under his eyelids at the thought, and though he pressed his lips together, one by one they ran down the sides of his face.
"– no –" He muttered and shook his head. "– not like this –"
The woman understood vaguely what he meant, an expression of sympathy on her face from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and throat.
"– Prince Aegon paid me for your fulfilment –"
It wasn't until a few years later that he realised he wasn't even completely hard at the time – that effect was only achieved when she climbed off him and took his manhood in her hand, squeezing it up and down until his warm seed leaked out.
He felt relief, but not the kind he wanted.
In fact, he felt even worse than before.
What would she say if she saw this?
She would be disgusted with me, he thought and cried out loud, walking back to the Red Keep alone, not waiting for Aegon to finish whatever it was he was doing with those girls.
He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to know about it.
When he returned to his chamber, he took out all the letters she had sent him over the years and placed them beside him on his bed. He closed his eyes and was only relieved when he realised that they had soaked up her scent.
The smell of vanilla.
𝕽𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖘
One day she woke up, breathing fast, feeling a pleasant heat and tickling in her lower abdomen. She dreamt that her uncle had flown to Dragonstone and spent the night with her despite her cries and pleas.
She didn't know what exactly could happen during this act, not being aware of all the details, but she knew that he would put the part of his body that was in his breeches between her thighs to fill her with his seed.
In the dream, his hot, wet lips clung to hers in greedy, possessive kisses, his breathing heavy as his broad hands roamed all over her body, squeezing her breasts and buttocks, until he finally forced his way inside her with the sudden, sharp thrust of his hips.
In her sleep, she felt no pain – moreover, his deep, quick pushes and his low groans of pleasure made the space between her thighs swell and pulsate, making her feel tense and uncomfortable as soon as she awoke, drenched in sweat.
She closed her eyes, feeling on the one hand relieved and on the other disappointed that this was not true – the worst part, however, was that the unpleasant, almost painful tickling sensation between her thighs did not go away.
She decided to check with her hand what this place was, what would happen if she touched it.
She tentatively lifted the material of her nightgown and traveled down between her warm thighs – a quiet sigh escaped her lips as her soft fingers stroked her moist, fleshy folds, all leaking and sticky.
She felt a pleasant shiver run along her spine and some kind of tingle deep inside her, her nipples and lips puffy with desire.
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, digging her fingertips deeper into her soft skin – she shuddered and sighed as she touched the small, swollen bud between her folds – surprised, she found that when she touched it directly, it felt almost painful, but as she began to gently press and rub the area around it, a wonderful wave of heat began to rise in her lower abdomen.
Her breathing became heavy as she imagined it was his hand touching her as he came back for her, whispering that he had wanted to do this to her for a long time, that he thought only of her, that he would now take her for himself.
She imagined his hot lips clinging to hers, his fingers sliding deep inside her, wanting to feel her, and she threw her head back with a quiet, surprised moan, feeling a sudden, wonderful relief.
She swallowed hard, realising after a moment that it was her own fingers that had slipped deep into her tight slit, her hot, moist walls clenching around them again and again together with waves of delicious pleasure surging through her whole body.
She stared dully ahead, panting loudly, feeling that as soon as the wonderful sensation passed, a complete and terrifying emptiness filled her heart and mind.
𝕬𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉
After what had happened in the brothel, he would not allow himself to be touched this way by any woman. He told himself that he simply didn't want to experience a similar humiliation, to cry at the thought that the one he fucked wasn't the one he dreamed of at night, but the truth was that even if he wanted to, he couldn't get fully aroused by the sight of another woman.
Even as he watched his servants bustling around his chamber, preparing his morning meal, looking at their pleasingly girlish shapes, their breasts and hips, his musings always fled to one thought.
Was this what her body looked like now?
Blossomed like a flower, full of grace and soft, feminine shapes?
He imagined that her bare skin would be soft as silk under the touch of his rough hand, that she would be obscenely warm, quivering with desire under his body. He imagined her breasts, plump and swollen, filling his palm perfectly, her little nipples that he would like to lick with his tongue.
He pressed his lips together, always feeling the same thing – his manhood swelling painfully and twitching in his breeches, causing him discomfort on the verge of pain.
It ended the same way each time – as soon as he was left alone in his chamber, instead of concentrating on his food, he quickly untied the material and slid his hand under it, grasping his half-hard, throbbing erection.
He began to squeeze it gently, merely teasing it, pressing his lips together, suppressing the shuddering moan of delight that wanted to burst from his throat at the thought that it was her fingers caressing him so wonderfully tenderly, it was her lips whispering that they didn't have to hurry.
He mumbled the name he'd given her himself in his head, feeling the tears welling under his eyelids, thinking with pain how much he missed her, that deep down he didn't loathe her, that all he desired was for her to return.
"– Rhaenys –" He cried out, tears running down his cheeks as his warm seed spilled over his fingers, relief, pleasure and pain surging through his loins at the same time, shaking his body.
He stared at his empty silver plate, panting heavily and pressed his lips together, furious and bitter, then burst out into silent sobs like a small child.
𝕽𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖘
"– it has come to my knowledge that Alicent has decided to make a pact with Borros Baratheon – she wants Prince Aemond to marry one of his daughters –" Her mother said during one of their suppers together in Dragonstone; she froze, feeling her heart stop in her throat, a cold, unpleasant shiver running down her spine as she raised her gaze to her.
"– we cannot leave this unanswered – after consulting with Daemon, we have together decided that you should marry the son of my dear cousin, Lord Arryn –" She added, taking one of the platters from her husband.
Daemon, seated next to her mother, gave her a quick look in which she seemed to catch a glimpse of sympathy.
She lowered her gaze, feeling her whole body involuntarily begin to tremble, tears of despair and disbelief gathered under her eyelids. She felt Baela's hand on hers, but she pulled away from her and got up from the table, leaving the chamber, bursting into sobs as soon as she ran out into the corridor.
Although she covered her mouth with her hand, she was unable to stop the moans that ripped from her throat or what she saw in her mind.
Him, lying on top of another woman, touching her naked body, whispering in the ear of Lord Baratheon's daughter that she was more beautiful than his niece, that he loved her more deeply than he had ever loved her.
She locked herself in her chamber, wishing to be alone.
She knew Daemon would come to her.
He always came.
As she lay on the bed, staring blankly at the wall in the distance, her father sat by the fireplace, staring thoughtfully into the flames, playing with the ring on his little finger.
"– your mother is doing this for your own good – she couldn't leave this insult unanswered –" He said coldly and maliciously, as if he was impatient with the fact that she was pitying herself.
She did not answer him.
She heard him sigh heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, bowing his head as if he had no strength for this conversation.
"– my spies in the Red Keep say that he has changed beyond recognition – that he is a cold, cruel man – that he calls you a little whore –" He said indifferently, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, tears of humiliation and pain one by one began to flow down her face.
"– give up your dreams of a man who has already disrespected you for years – his feelings for you have disappeared along with his fucking eye –"
𝕬𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖉
"– have you heard the word from Dragonstone, brother? –" Aegon asked him during one of the suppers, his brother's mind and sight already a tad clouded by the wine he so adored.
He threw him a brief, discouraged glance, their mother twisting restlessly in her chair.
"– Aegon –"
"– your would-be betrothed will soon become the Lady of the Eyrie, and her cousin will be given the honour of putting his little cock inside her –" He sneered, and he felt his jaw and hands clench, a shiver of discomfort, horror and humiliation running along his back at the very thought.
"– enough –" Their mother said.
"– why? – after all, my little brother no longer holds any affection towards her – am I wrong, brother? – what did you call her before she became a little whore in your eyes? – let me think – ah, I remember – Rhaenys –"
He stood up from the table, feeling his heart begin to pound like mad, a sea of memories filled with her surging through his mind making him feel as if he had begun to suffocate.
He heard Aegon chuckle behind him as he left the room panting with rage, bursting into his chamber with a loud slamming of the door.
He opened the drawer with his key and slid it out with an aggressive gesture, pulling out all the letters he had received from her over the years and holding them in his trembling hands, he stopped in front of the fire.
He stared at the flames, hearing himself breathe heavily, droplets of cold sweat running down his back at the memory of what his brother had said.
Your would-be betrothed will soon become the Lady of the Eyrie.
He pressed his lips together, crushing the letters in his hands, and drew in the air loudly, feeling with shame that he felt like bursting into tears. He sat down on the floor, leaning over and laid his forehead on his knees, hugging her letters, her words to him, to his heart.
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Heartbreak anthem by ylc- Canon divergent slightly from season one, episode 3. What if Loki and Mobius had been sleeping together before Roxxcart? Making the Roxxcart Divorce all the angstier? (With a hopeful ending). (25,051 words)
For the longest time by Mirilya - a Lokius Hanahaki fic. If you’re looking for some whumpy, angsty, unrequited and then requited love, this is the fic for you. Starring a helplessly in love Mobius. (30,032 words)
With You Through The Storms by DewdropReader - a post Thor 1 + Human AU. Mobius finds a scared cat in the middle of a rainstorm and takes him home to keep him safe. The cat sticks around and he and Mobius become close friends. One day Mobius comes home to find his cat has transformed into a person who claims to be Loki, God of Mischief. An oh-so-soft domestic everyone needs a hug/gets a hug Lokius love story. (62,081 words and counting)
Got your world in my hand by Mirilya - Post season one (or any season tbh) Mobius and Loki are living happily at the TVA. Now, it’s time for Mobius to visit Asgard. Sweeping romantic declarations ensue! (10,465 words)
Human AUs
What Makes A Good Man by chamel - CIA AU. Mobius just wants to bring down the notorious and prolific art thief he's been studying for years. He certainly doesn't expect said thief to be so handsome, or charming, or... helpful? (98,634 words)
Fit the Profile by WaterHorseyBlues- Detective AU. Loki and Private Detective Mobius work together to unravel a mystery after Loki is unexpectedly taken hostage one night. What at first seems like unmotivated violence turns into something much bigger than either Loki or Mobius could have expected. Could the answer lie in Loki's past? Or is something far more sinister going on? (77,786 words)
falling in love at a coffeeshop by thumbbird- Coffee shop AU. Talent Acquisition Director Mobius M Mobius has been going to Odinson’s coffeeshop for years. When he finds out his favorite barista Loki has left Odinson’s, he switches shops and romance ensues! (93,239 words)
On My Reading List
And here are two fics that I haven’t read yet but come highly recommended.
i bet on losing dogs by thumbbird
A Warning From The Gods (To Stay Away) by StompedKirbs
Again, I feel like these fics represent only a sliver of the brilliance that exists in this fandom. You can find more fic recs here.
Happy reading!
#back again with more fic recs#the BRILLIANCE in this fandom#Loki series#Lokius#Loki#mobius m mobius#Wowki#loki x mobius#mobius x loki#lokius fic rec#fic rec
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Finally found you
Pairing: Eris x stark!reader
Plot: after being apart for a year, you decide to visit an old friend. Who would have thought that visit would end with you meeting your mate.
When the blip happened six years ago, people immediately assumed you were one of the people who disappeared. In reality, Thanos had sent you to another world. You had no idea where you were until you came face to face with a man who went by the name Rhysand. “Who are you, and how did you get here?” Rhysand asked which caused you to freak out and begin telling him who you were and how you ended up in his land.
After probing your mind and realizing you weren’t a threat to his people, Rhysand offered refuge in the night court. It took a while for the inner circle to trust you completely, but you didn’t blame them. You were a stranger to them, but after a few months, everyone saw you as a member of their family.
Even though you started to see them as a family as the years went by, you couldn’t help but miss your friends and family back home. You missed the way you and Peter would play pranks on your dad. You also missed having girl’s night with Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper. What you missed the most was helping your dad with his inventions and having father/daughter bonding time.
Over time, you started to come to terms that you were going to spend the rest of your life in the night court. That was until one day when Stephen Strange opened a portal in the river house. He told you that your father and the rest of the Avengers needed you to help defeat Thanos once and for all.
As much as you loved your new family, you knew you had to go back and help the Avengers defeat Thanos. You gave everyone an individual goodbye before you made your way to the portal, “Thank you so much for everything you guys have done for me. I’ll never forget you.” You waved to your friends before going through the portal to help defeat Thanos and his army.
To everyone’s delight, you were able to defeat Thanos. Carol was able to weld the infinity gauntlet and defeat Thanos and his army. Unfortunately, the was a lot of damage from the battle with Thanos, so you and the rest of the Avengers spent an entire year rebuilding demolished buildings and helping out whoever was in need.
Throughout the year, your mind would often slip to your friends back in the night court. You wondered if Feyre finally had her baby or if Elain and Azriel finally got together. You were their biggest shipper and with Cassian's help, would try to get them to confess their feelings for each other.
You didn’t think you were ever going to see them again until Stephen came to you and asked if you wanted to visit them. “Wait, really?” You looked at him wide-eyed.
“Yes, really,” Stephen replied, “You’ve worked so hard rebuilding our world, it’s only fair you take a little time off and visit friends you haven’t seen in a while.”
After ironing out the details about how long you were going to stay, Stephen opened the portal. Taking a deep breath, you stepped back into the place you called home for five years. “Did you miss me?” You asked and caused everyone to look at you surprised before Elain rushed over to you and hugged you.
One by one, the inner circle went to hug you and told you how much they missed you, “I missed you guys too. I would have come sooner, but I had to help rebuild my home from our battle.”
“How long are you going to stay? So much has changed since you’ve been here, and we want to show you around,” Feyre asked while bouncing Nyx on her lap.
“A month,” there were smiles on everyone’s faces at your news and began planning out what you would be doing for the entire month.
One event that popped up last minute was a ball at the autumn court. With Beron gone, Eris became high lord and invited everybody important to the celebration.
While Rhysand and the inner circle were hesitant to attend, they ultimately agreed to go in the hopes of securing an alliance with the autumn court. “Remember, we need this alliance, so no fighting,” Rhysand warned Azriel, Cassian, and Mor before you entered the room.
As you made your way through the crowd, Eris’ eyes were immediately on you, and he had this overwhelming urge to be by your side. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to welcome the guests that just arrived,” Eris excused himself from the conversation he was having with Tamlin and Lucien before making his way to you.
Once he got to you, he reached over and held your hand. “Welcome,” Eris placed a kiss on your hand and earned a genuine smile from you, “May I ask for your name?”
“Y/n,” you replied with a genuine smile on your face, “Y/n Stark.”
Both Azriel and Cassian got a sudden urge to get between you and Eris. Rhysand was quick to remind them that they were guests and they couldn’t interfere unless you asked for their help.
“May I have this dance?” Eris asked once a slow song started playing. You eagerly agreed, and Eris swept you away to the dance floor.
One dance turned to eight, and soon your friends had to pull you off the dance floor because you had to leave. “As much as I enjoyed spending the night dancing with you, I believe I have to head out now,” you smiled at Eris, who looked disappointed that you were leaving.
“You could spend the night. We have more than enough rooms to accommodate you and your friends,” Eris offered. He didn’t like the idea of the rest of the night court staying over, but he would tolerate it if it meant that you would stay.
Looking over, you noticed everyone was shaking their heads no, “I’m sorry, but no. I had an amazing night though. Maybe I’ll see you around before I leave,” you placed a kiss on Eris’ cheek before you made your way back to your friends so you could leave.
Eris was left shell-shocked at what transpired between the two of you. He’s never cared for any female in his life, yet you waltz into his life like nothing and steal a piece of his heart. You weren’t even gone five minutes, and he’s already planning on when he’s going to see you again.
Because of this, Eris decided to visit the night court a few days later on high lord business. He knew Rhysand didn’t buy his excuse but didn’t say anything because he could tell Eris genuinely felt a connection with you. “As much as I enjoyed this little visit. Next time, just say you came so you could see y/n. That way, she would be here for your visit,” Rhysand teased as he walked out of his office.
Eris was about to argue with Rhysand when he faintly heard your voice. “Eris ! ! !” you walked up to him and hugged him, “What brings you to the Night Court?”
“I needed to talk to Rhysand in person, so I decided to stop by,” Eris replied while he still held you in his arms, “How are you? It’s been so long.”
You found yourself rolling your eyes at Eris’ comment. “It’s only been three days,” you laughed, “But I’m good. I’m soaking in Prythian while I'm here before I leave in a few days.” Eris didn’t know why, but he had a sense of panic at your words and asked where you were going, “My home. I’m not from here. I’m from another world.”
“But you could stay here if you wanted. Right?” Eris asked while trying not to sound desperate.
“Yes, but-” you paused as you tried to choose your words wisely, “I have so many people relying on me back home. I can’t let them down.” As much as you wanted to stay, you knew you had responsibilities back home that you couldn’t ignore, “But maybe we could spend time together until that time comes. If you wish.”
Eris had no desire to spend time around the night court, but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend time with you. Especially if you were going to leave in a few days. After a few minutes, he replied, “I would love that.”
True to his word, Eris spent every day by your side leading up to your departure. He briefly went back to the autumn court to sort out his duties for his court, but he soon found himself by your side in the night court until sundown.
While Rhysand and the rest of the inner circle weren’t pleased with Eris’ constant presence in their court, they sucked it up for your sake. They also couldn’t deny the obvious attraction between you and the new high lord. They wondered if there was something more than physical attraction between the two of you, seeing as they’d never seen Eris so smitten over one female before.
They got their answer on the day you were going back home. Eris was an absolute mess as he watched you hug everyone goodbye and promised you would try to visit more often. Once you were in front of him, Eris felt the mating bond snap into place and blurted out, “You can’t go. We’re mates.”
Your heart started beating so fast at Eris’ words you didn’t hear Cassian shout, “I knew it !”
You had a hunch that you were mates, but hearing Eris confirm you were mates made you second-guess leaving. Part of you wanted to return to your world because you didn’t want to abandon your family, but the other part wanted to stay because you didn’t want to leave Eris and your new friends. “Eris, I-”
Just then, you spotted your father on the other side of the portal, with Morgan holding a sign that said ‘Welcome home.’ Looking back at Eris, you noticed a pained expression on his face, so you pulled him into a kiss. You could hear Morgan cheering before your father yelled for someone to cover her eyes because Morgan was resting on his shoulders. “I want this. I want the mating bond and to be here with you, but I have to go and discuss this with my father. I have to go, but I promise I’ll return.”
At your words, terror appeared in Eris’ eyes, and he was about to protest until you added, “You could come with me. We won’t be there for more than three days, and you could meet my father.”
Eris looked at everyone and noticed them nodding as if they were encouraging him to follow you. “Ok,” Eris responded before taking your hand and walking through the portal into your world.
A/n please let me know if you’d like a part two. Maybe where Eris meets Tony and the rest of the Avengers.
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is there anything you wish youd known about DID-specific therapy before you started? sorry if thats weird or vague, i just finally have a therapist that treats DID and im both nervous and relieved about it, so i guess im just wondering if you have advice as someone who has made so much progress with your own DID
God yeah there is a lot honestly. Like there are a lot of general rules of thumb that I've seen get mentioned here that I can say are usually really good things I found to be mostly true in my experience like
Persecutors are frequently demonized and they can be INCREDIBLY hard to work with, but they are incredibly important, often are parts that are capable of having the most growth and tend to add the most to the system once you figure out a good way to communicate and work with them; that said, don't push anything you aren't capable of handling, if they are being too much, safety first; just remember that they're probably some of the best allies you can have should you make things work with them; there is little stronger bonds - both between parts and as a whole - formed when you can befriend and trust someone / the part of you that you've always hated / avoided. Loving persecutors is self love and self love is important for healing
While keeping track of your parts can be helpful, try not to obsess and fixate on trying to find all the parts and figure out when and where everyone came from. It can become overwhelming (especially if you have a lot of parts), you might find parts and things you aren't ready to deal with if you try to look too hard, and it can take away from the important processing, bonding, communication, and present issues you might be facing as a whole
Its okay to relapse on maladaptive behaviors, especially if it keeps you safe and/or from relapsing or starting potentially more risky / dangerous / harmful maladaptive behaviors. Two steps forward, one step back, it's still progress so try not to be hard on yourself. Struggling and fumbling is part of recovery, you aren't bad, or wrong, or uniquely "broken" or anything for struggling through recovery. Recovery is just fucking hard and engaging with it at all is a really amazing and powerful thing.
Integration =/= Fusion. Integration is just improving and increasing the communication, connectivity, and fluidity of information and coordination of parts. Integration is inherent in any form of DID treatment.
On top of that, I think some of the ones I don't see talked about as much would be...
Splitting, while often assumed to be a negative thing and a result of trauma (true and sometimes!), can be very healing when you look at it from a larger lens. This isn't to say that you should want to split or seek to make new alters as a coping mechanism, because I'd probably say in most situations that is probably not healthy. This is more so saying that if your brain wants to / needs to / does split, its okay to just let it happen. Trying to actively prevent splits can cause a lot of emotional / trauma overwhelm and risk crisis states and honestly, sometimes its easier to deal with two (or more) contained and stable parts than it is to deal with one complex and unstable part. Likewise, sometimes it is easier to be two (or more) contained stable parts than it is to exist as one complex and unstable part.
Splitting sometimes - and often is - a mechanism to maintain stability and keep life for all parts within a relative "window of tolerance" that you can function in. Splitting isn't a moral failure or a recovery failure or anything special. Splitting is just part of the journey of recovery and a lot of people split after they start recovery cause it can be a pretty hard thing to go through. You aren't alone if this happens and it is just part of the process and journey.
Similar to that and something that we've been talking on this blog a lot and trying to spread...
Fusion does not have to be a final thing. Fusion does not have to be a huge and notable event. Fusion can last anywhere from a few minutes, to a few hours, to a few months, to forever depending on what works for you. If a fusion isn't working for you or isn't sticking, your brain will likely re-split and if it doesn't, you can always actively try to undo it and we've done it multiple times pretty successfully. Fusion ALSO isn't anything special, it's something that just happens. Fusion and splitting are two sides of the same coin and really aren't anything as permanent or anything that carries any inherent value to it beyond what it means to you as an individual / whole.
And probably one of the things that I was the most astonished by
You don't actually have to process all your trauma to be at a place with your DID where you are considered to be "in remission" or to even reach functional multiplicity / final fusion. A lot of the meat of DID-focused therapy and recovery and improvement to life is not as much in the trauma processing as much as it is in the stabilization period; that is just to say, the main meat of growth, recovery, and improvement is found by working with your parts to establish an internal support system, internal trust with one another, and deeply getting to know each of the parts. Of course, trauma processing will happen along the way, but you can get EXTREMELY far with recovery simplly by focusing on the stability of the system, how you each support and communicate and coordinate with one another, and dealing with the trauma topics that come up in the immediate present.
A good way to think about it is that the stabilization period is essentially creating a strong foundation and a strong base so that you feel secure and confident navigating basic day to day life with a lot of internal love and support and the trust that you and your parts can support eachother through a SHIT ton of stuff. If you can develop an internal relationship with your parts and your system that is very strong and built on trust and care, then dealing with trauma and adversities become WAY easier. Thus it can be a lot easier to postpone any heavy trauma processing that is not actively relevant and actively necessary to help improve internal relationships until AFTER you have a stronger and more secure realtionship with your parts.
Thus I would suggest focusing on the present issues, the things parts are feeling and experiencing in the moment, and addressing those rather than trying to uncover every secret and trauma that you may or may not remember. If the trauma is something you are ready to deal with and it's relevant, your brain will bring it up when the time is right.
Trust your brain thats protected you thus far and kept you alive thus far to let you know things when you are ready to know it, but also don't be afraid to ask parts for help if it does share more than you are ready. That's just to say - Don't Dig for information you don't want to know, but if something comes up that you don't feel equipt to deal with, its completely okay to seek internal or external help to try leave it behind. Again, especially early on, the focus should be on stabilization rather than trauma processing.
And just a little small one about online spaces and what not, but try not to worry too much abotu whether your experiences with the disorder align with others, or if you look "fake" or what not. A lot of recovery will look like things people who don't know better would think is "impossible with DID" and online spaces tend to be a place where a false image of what things "should" look like is kind of developed. Whatever you experience is what you experience and is inherently a real and true experience. Don't try to force yourself to fit into the expectation and boxes of others as it will often slow down your progress.
#alter: riku#alter: fei#feathers speaks#didrecovery#actuallydid#dissociative identity disorder#advice#ask#asks#recovery advice
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PART 12: Early Mornings
WORD COUNT: 1.6k
SUMMARY: You enjoy morning coffee with Bakugou, making some plans for future days.
[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]
It’s always difficult to pull yourself away from Eijirou after long nights of socializing. He was a talented extrovert but events like that always exhausted him, making him clingier than usual when you went to bed and impossible to wake up the following morning. You remembered curling up on the couch with Eijirou after showering and changing, and must have dozed off while Katsuki was in the shower because you woke up in Katsuki’s bed with Eijirou while the blonde was nowhere in sight. It was interesting that you’d ended up here, but not surprising. Keeping his babygirls together was important to Eijirou, and Katsuki had the bigger bed, so it was the natural spot to collect.
Rolling out of the bed was difficult, the strong arms kept trying to pull you back into the bed until you eventually broke away from them and landed somewhat gracefully on your feet. The pathetic sleep whine that leaves him is quickly muffled by him rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow that you’d left behind. It’s tempting to curl back up around him and get another hour or so of sleep, but there’s a conversation that you’d like to have with Katsuki without your shared boyfriend hovering around with a shit eating grin on his face.
And you find the blonde in the kitchen, standing in front of the coffee pot and pouring what looked to be a second mug of coffee.
“Morning,” you greet softly, closing the distance between you as he nods his own greeting.
“I thought you’d be up soon, so I made more coffee. I just don’t know how you like yours, and didn’t want to make it something you wouldn’t like.”
It was a thoughtful gesture, and you explain how you like your coffee as you fix it to your specifications. He's taking mental notes, you know him too well at this point to think otherwise, and you try to move with enough space that he can see what you’re doing.
“C’mon.” He tilts his head in the direction of the living room, and you follow him from the kitchen but continue out to the balcony, not missing him grabbing the blanket left on the couch on his way.
The bench on the patio was large enough to fit three people, but you sit close to Katsuki and are grateful for the blanket that he puts over both of your laps when the cold morning air settles on your skin. You don’t know quite what to say, but you feel comfortable enough to trust that you didn’t have to say anything - just being beside him in this moment was enough. To have him invite you to share this personal time meant a lot, but you know they’d tell you that you were putting too much on it.
“How’s your wrist feeling?”
“Much better. I think your kisses might double as a painkiller.” He’s exaggerating, but you’re glad to hear that he wasn’t in as much pain as he had been last night. “Your feet okay? You were walking kinda stiff towards the end.”
“Those shoes suck, but I’m good now.”
He nods, and you both take a drink of your coffee in near unison while continuing to stare out at the skyline you could see from the balcony.
“Thank you for fixing my shirt,” you finally comment after a couple moments of quiet, looking over to see those amber eyes fixated on you. “You didn’t have to, especially after the way I yelled at you that day. That wasn’t very kind of me, and I’m sorry for treating you like that.”
“No, I deserved a lot of that. I didn’t explain myself well enough, and made you feel like shit because of it and that wasn’t fair to you. You’ve always been enough, y’know? For him, and-” he pauses, his free hand carefully coming to rest on your cheek as his own tint a soft pink - because of the cold weather, you’re sure. “And for me, too. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t.”
You know better than to ask if he means it, the one thing Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do was say things he didn’t mean to make people feel better.
“Do you want to do something tomorrow night? Just the two of us?” The question doesn’t feel surprising coming from him, but the way his hand stayed on your cheek certainly was. It was warm though, you weren’t going to complain.
“Like a date?”
“We can keep it friendly, if you want.”
“Is that what you want?” It wasn’t, and he knows by the look on your face that you knew the answer too. “Because I’d like for it to be more than just friendly.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, gently pulling his hand from your face to hold in your own as you murmur, “Last night was a lot of fun, and I’d love to spend more time with you.”
He only nods, and you know he’s not going to say anything soft in return at this point so you’re happy to just sit in silence with him. It was still comfortable, and that was what mattered most to you as you continued drinking your coffee.
“I talked to Deku about your idea for how we can stop fight night before it starts next year. We both think a sanctioned tournament similar to how UA had the sports festival would decrease a considerable amount of the activity on the streets.”
You don’t remember when you’d talked to Katsuki about that, which leads you to believe that he’d listened to one of your rambles about crime reduction tactics or maybe Eijirou had said something about it. Either way it felt incredibly validating to hear that three of the top five pros thought that you were onto something and would possibly take your idea higher up.
“Most of the arrested parties had no known gang affiliation, it just makes sense to provide some outlet for people to let the edge off and get paid for it if they do well.”
“The research you did on that was very detailed. I didn’t think you had the energy for that between your own work and taking care of us.”
“You read through my research?”
“You left it out and I was curious. You were really going to take that to the Hero Commission?”
“The Commission, the Mayor of Tokyo, maybe even see if the Prime Minister’s office would at least look at it. It’s unnecessarily dangerous for the city and the people in it, and the heroes working to stop it. Last year was bad, this year was worse, and it’s only going to escalate unless something is done to address it.” The way he was looking at you was something you don’t think you’d experienced directed at you. You’d seen the undivided attention and intent thinking face be directed at Eijirou, marveling at how your boyfriend didn’t crack under the pressure of the blonde’s intense gaze, but to have it directed at you made you realize just why Eijirou handled it so well. Being on the receiving end didn’t make you feel small, or as if he was trying to pick apart your argument - in fact, you felt the opposite. The way he looked at you made you feel like you could kick in the door to the Prime Minister’s office with no consequences, you even felt like he’d help.
“You care a lot about this. For the city and the people in it.”
“We’ve seen the country fall apart before due to unchecked quirk aggression, I’d hate to live through that twice.”
“Yeah,” he sighs, carefully pulling your now empty mug from your hands to sit on the table beside the bench. “But I doubt you want to talk about work on your day off.”
“I don’t mind it, I like talking to you.”
“When we go out tomorrow night, no work talk.”
“What’s the penalty if we slip up?”
“I’m sure we can come up with something agreeable for us both.”
You nod at that before turning as movement catches your eye from the other side of the window. Eijirou had finally rolled out of bed, bright red hair a mess as he slowly moved around the living room looking for something. It only takes a second for Katsuki to catch on to what you’d seen, and he watches with the same fond smile you wear as you both watch your boyfriend try to figure out where his lovers had gone.
“Let’s go save him from his misery,” Katsuki suggests, and you nod your agreement while letting him help you up from your seat. The blanket is carefully wrapped around your shoulders before he grabs the empty coffee mugs and leads you inside. He offers to cook breakfast while letting Eijirou steal a couple needy kisses, then it’s your turn to be needily kissed on and cuddled while Katsuki sets to work.
“Can’t believe you left me, baby.”
“We’d never leave you,” you mumble into his neck, placing a gentle kiss to the warm skin as footsteps pad across the living room floor. “Never ever.”
“You were together?”
“Mhm, just on the balcony. Never too far from our baby Eiji.” Your assurance is met with a kiss to the top of your head, and you feel your body rock with Eijirou’s as Katsuki gently nudges him while telling you there was more coffee on the side table for you.
It’s a few minutes before you’re given the room you need to actually drink the coffee Katsuki had brought out to you, so it’s colder than you would have preferred, but you’re amazed at the fact that he’d made it perfect for you. He was good, much better than you were at paying attention to details like that and committing them to memory so quickly.
But he definitely cared a lot about getting things right.
#the way im posting this while on facetime with silver and she doesn't know#hheheeheheheheh#alp#kirishima eijirou#bakugou katsuki#kirishima eijirou imagine#kirishima x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagine#katsuki bakugo imagine#kiribaku#mha fanfic#bnha fanfic
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hello neutual (new mutual). the idea of your MMJ -> Niigo genreswap is eating at my brain . I'm incredibly interested
;; hello neutual!!!!
;; is this an invitation to infodump? im taking this as an invitation to infodump :3
;; more more jump! the anonymous music circle who's members hide away from the public.
;; jist of everything is that minori "rinrin" starts composing to improve her abilities in idol auditions (don't question it), then (in order) airi "riri" gets roped in as the mv maker, then shizuku "rook" as the artist and after a whole lotta plot and sekai shenanigans, haruka "ruka" as the lyricist.
;; their personalities and whatnot are mostly the same. minori is super energetic and hopeful, for all except three hours of the day where she's the opposite (luckily she's usually asleep), haruka is haruka except sleep deprived and the guilt complex is worse, talking to airi is a 50/50 on whether she'll glare at you or walk away and shizuku... we'll get to that.
;; their sekai is the fairytale sekai and it's basically a massive forest, except for the one massive clearing that has a stage. except the stage is not in good condition..
;; each vocaloid is based off of a different fairytale thing. miku (princess) and luka (witch) are their starting vocaloids, but (in order) rin (some sorta forest spirit-esque thing) shows up in colour of myself, meiko (mythical creature tamer) shows up in you deserve it! break time!, kaito (royalty) shows up for worldwide wander and len (also some sorta forest spirit-esque thing) shows up at some other point that i haven't decided.
;; the order of events is slightly shuffled, only because colour of myself needs to be first. because colour of myself is the "shizuku quit your job" event. did i mention that she didn't quit during the main story? yeah she never gets the push she needs to quit and stays there. -> because the cloverdamned turning point quote is haruai
;; which leads back to the "and shizuku... we'll get to that." comment. yeah she's not doing well. she's been balancing work and these meetings (one of which she enjoys and finds comfort in. hint: it isn't the one involving her groupmates who hate her) so she's stressed, dealing with perfectionism and all that.
;; at some point in colour of myself, minori gets really sick and shizuku is very iffy about it. (her and rin were witness to minori starting her "sekai research", part one of which was to eat plants in the sekai. something bad happened.) that's the most random fact anyway continuing on
;; minori solves her problems in every event by getting a whole lot of sugar in her system, acting like 'normal' then sugar crashing at about four am. which is when she sleeps for three hours or just cries for no discernable reason. then she repeats this at seven am.
;; group relationship wise is funny because. minori is more chill about being in a group with the other three (having worked out their identities way before they all worked out each others and having time to process that).
;; so minoharu is along the lines of "ruka-chan responds to my kindness with trust issues. what do i do"
;; minoai is airi daring minori to do dumb stuff and minori doing it then airi getting incredibly concerned as she injures herself in more and more unhinged ways
;; and minoshizu is "[says anything]" "yeah, same".
;; harushizu are looking at each other's situations and going "at least mine isn't that bad". <- they are both bad in different ways
;; haruai are attempting to murder each other at any given point. i would be joking but one of their first interactions (that ive written) in sekai is: "oh are you not gonna say hello to your groupmate momoi?" "go fuck yourself." "id rather not."
;; shizuai is shizuai. airi is the main encourager for shizuku getting out of cheerful*days and shizuku is the number one fan of airi.
;; all of them are clingy, in very different ways. minori just needs to be able to hear them over call or see them and she's happy. shizuku will just grab onto people (airi or minori usually). airi and haruka act like they aren't clingy but panic if they haven't heard anything from one of their groupmates in a day.
;; this au is where the minoshizu part of this fic came from!
#project sekai#minori hanasato#haruka kiritani#airi momoi#shizuku hinomori#im so sorry this went on for so long#this au is silly and thats all i'll say#oh and yes. in meiko's first appearance in you deserve it! break time! she has (magic) penguins with her
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["The Set Up"]
If Floyd were in Veneer's shoulder pad instead of JD and Veneer never needed to take a troll's talent to sing, I bet he'd have Crimp disable the built-in vaccum so the button doesn't work when he presses it. Before and during the Rage Dome show, he'd probably be trying to figure out how to free the trolls.
Bruce, being a dad himself and having witnessed the whole thing from Veneer's other shoulder pad, would figure out Floyd's relation to Veneer pretty fast.
Can you imagine Floyd attempting to fend off Ruff and Gruff and going like, "GET AWAY FROM MY SON!!"?
You just keep giving me the best ideas! And I love that! Ty so much! ❤️ Veneer would definitely have Crimp do that! But tbh I canon Veneer to be a little tech savvy himself (an HC keep forgetting to post). After getting the shoulder pads, Veneer would tinker with them, being able to disable the himself. Floyd would trust Veneer and hop on back in the diamond. Bruce on the other hand is hesitant, he trusts his brother. Vennie is determined to help him get their brothers back along with freeing his sister… up until the events of the Rage Dome show here the following events take place:
The Set Up (Alternate Version)
Link to main story here.
“How can we trust that this works?” Bruce asks as he was placed back in his diamond and onto the shoulder pad. He hesitantly looked up Veneer, then to Floyd opposite him.
“It’s going to work. Trust me, and I trust Ven.” The small Troll looked up and smiled at the Rageon. Veneer gave him a small grin, but was then over shadowed by sorrow. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“…You should’ve gotten out while you could..” Veneer whispered.
“Not again. Not without you or your sister. I am NOT going to make that same mistake again.” Floyd told him. Bruce watched the interaction between the two…something began to feel familiar….His thoughts were cut short as the door to the dressing bursted open.
“Time to go.” Ruff declared. Veneer swallowed the lump in his throat as he stood up. The Bergen escorted him out and to the black limo waiting for them to take them to the Rage Dome show.
Veneer was silent the entire way. He could hear Velvet talking excitedly, but her voice was muffled…All he could think about was how could he break Floyds brothers free, how could he escape this mess with his sister…alive. Out of the corner of his eye he looked at Mistress. She was way deep into her phone to notice anything…
“Veeenn? Hello, Earth to Veneer!” His sister’s voice finally caught his attention.
“What?”
“Were you even listening to a word I was saying?”
“Uh….”
“Never mind. Let’s just go out there and kill this!” She exclaimed as the vehicle pulled up to the red carpet.
The moments that followed were all a blur to Veneer. Smile, let them think you love them, Mistress said before they stepped out. As if in a trance, the twins walked down the red carpet waving and smile, they signed autographs, blow kisses to their adoring fans. They stopped for a quick interview. This isn’t real, Veneer continued to think to himself…none of it. The way they got here, it wasn’t real, it was fake…they were frauds…and they had to get out. But he had to play it smart…if he didn’t, it wouldn’t only be him that Mistress would kill, it would also be his sister.
They made their way through the entrance and towards the entrance of the stage where they were to perform. They were placed on two separate platforms that were to rise center stage.
“Ready?” Velvet asked as they touched up her last makeup.
“Ready.” Veneer smiled to her holding out his pinky. She wrapped hers around his tightly….Something they had come up with since they were younger.
“Promises.”
“Promises.”
Bruce glanced around the exterior…a realization hit him. He banged on the diamond with his tiny fists attempting to get Floyd and Veneer’s attention. “Guys! I over heard something that vile woman said. She said about marketing something look like an accident.”
“What.” Floyd stated.
“Kid! You have too…” He was cut short as the lights went black and music began playing in the back ground.
“Troll time.” Velvet clicked the center button. It absorbed the essence of the Trolls that were in her diamonds. She radiated with a light, her glowing a pink pigmentation that Veneer hadn’t seen before…a fear began striking him. He did the same…but Floyd and Bruce only pretended they were being hurt…What Veneer did to the shoulder pads worked, their essence wasn’t absorbed.
The platforms began to rise.
“HELLO MOUNT RAGEOUS!” Velvet screamed into her mic. The chants and screams of the crowds were muffled to Veneer’s ears…a nervousness began to settle over him…he had never felt this way at a performance before…did the essence really do that?
“You have to do it. You have the talent in you, Vennie…I’ve seen it. You can do it.” Floyd reassured him. The Rageon nodded and joined his sister in the melody of the song. It was soft at first, but his voice grew as his confidence did. He held back though, he didn’t want to over power his sister…he knew that’s what Mistress didn’t want. Bruce stared at Floyd who smiled up at Veneer as he sang…a smile like a proud father…the realization his Bruce…That’s when unfamiliar sounds began to emerge from under them. The platform Veneer was on began to rattle and shake. The Rageon looked down, his heartbeat began to quicken.
“What the…” He murmured as the sounds continued to rumble from within the platform. “Vels?” He turned to call out to his sister. She heard the sounds herself.
“Ven?” She said.
SNAP! Just then the platform broke in half. Velvet screamed her brother’s name as she reached out to grab him, but she only touched the hem of his frilled sleeve. She screamed as she watched her brother tumble towards the ground, the debris of the platform following after. Velvet attempted to press a panic button hidden with the platform to try and lower it….but it stayed risen. The screams and cries of the audience echoed through the auditorium as they witness what happened. They began to flee and run out in horror.
“SOMEONE! HELP! PLEASE HELP ME BROTHER!” She cried from the risen platform. Oh god, please okay, she thought as tears stung her eyes.
It took a moment for the dust to clear. Floyd and Bruce stirred inside their diamond. They were dizzy, but they were unharmed. They looked at the fallen debris around them…it seemed as if the entire Rage Dome had fallen, but it was just everything that was left over of the platform.
“Ven?…VEN!” Floyd called out. He peeked through his diamond. Veneer lay face up, one arm sprawled out on his side, the other resting on his stomach, he breathing was ragged and heavy, blood coming from his nose and mouth. “Ven. Answer me please!” Floyd cried.
“….I can’t….I can’t feel my legs…” His voice was almost a whisper. The Trolls looked to see that some of the debris had fallen on his legs, “….it hurts…it hurts so bad…” Veneer attempted to take a deep breath, but that even stung his lungs…he coughed out blood.
“Oh god. No…no…no…no!” Floyd panicked as he banged against the diamond, attempting to break it. “I’m here Ven! It’s okay I’m here!”
“Floyd.” Bruce attempted to call out to his brother…he knew the feeling…the feeling of seeing your child hurt…He felt himself be lifted. Through pain, Veneer reached over and took out each diamond…he released the Trolls. His arms fell limp again on his side as the pain shot through. Floyd ran over to him, placing his two little hands on Veneer’s cheek.
“Hey, I’m here. I’m here. You’re not alone. You going to make it through. You hear me. You’re going to make it through!” He leaned his tiny forehead on Veneer’s cheek. Yes, Bruce understood now…he understood what these two meant to Floyd…he knew now that he wasn’t going to leave without them. Noises were heard far off…the sound of footsteps approaching them.
“Floyd..we…we have to hide at least.” Bruce said.
“No.”
“…Run….” Veneer whispered through his pain.
“NO!”
The footsteps grew louder as they got closer. Whatever it was big, as the ground shook for the small Trolls. Suddenly out of the debris, two Bergens appeared: Ruff and Gruff. They looked down at displeasure at the Trolls. They saw that Veneer was still alive…this wasn’t part of the plan.
“Kill the Rageon. Eat the Trolls.” Gruff said. Ruff smiled as he attempted to stomp on the Trolls. They moved away in time, leaving Veneer alone and exposed to the Bergens. Gruff hovered over Veneer.
“Night night.” He reached over to place his hands on the Rageons head, ready to snap his neck.
“NO!” Floyd wrapped his hair around a tubing of debris. He swung and swung gaining enough force and momentum. He slingshotted himself straight towards the Bergens forehead. His force was so great that it knocked the Bergens out cold, causing him to fall backwards. Ruff stared in bewilderment as his brother was knocked out by a tiny Troll. He snarled his teeth at Floyd.
“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM! YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY SON!” Floyd screamed up. Ruff laughed as he reached down to grab Floyd, but the Troll being smaller, was quicker. He diveraged from the Bergen, through his legs. Using his hair, Floyd shot straight up. While in the air, he wrapped his hair again and shot straight for the Bergens stomach causing hims to groan. Floyd noticed a metal piping on top of the Bergens head. He wrapped his hair around the pipe and pulled…
CRASH! It fell straight on top of the Bergen, knocking him out along with his brother on the floor. Floyd waited moment, he then ran to Veneer again…He was still breathing, he was still alive, good.
“I’m getting you out of here!” Floyd tried his best to move the giant debris off the Rageon. He felt a hand on his shoulder. Floyd turned to Bruce who had a small smile on his face….tears began to sting Floyds face.
“I get it now bro. I understand. And I’m going to help you get him out…We’ll need some back up though.” Bruce turned…out from amongst the debris, gray Trolls began to appear…Under Rageous Trolls. Floyd quickly got in front of Veneer, protecting him.
“Rageous Trolls? They hate Rageons.” Floyd said.
One little gray Troll got in front of all the other ones, the leader by the looks of him, “We do. But we saw everything happen. This Rageon really means a lot to you doesn’t he? We heard what you called him.” Floyd swallowed the lump in his throat not knowing what to answer, “We’ll help him. We’ll get your kid out and to safety.”
#trolls band together#trolls 3#velvet and veneer#veneer#trolls veneer#velvet#velvet trolls#velvet and veneer trolls#trolls 3 veneer#trolls 3 velvet#veneer trolls#trolls velvet#trolls fandom#trolls#trolls floyd#trolls bruce#my asks#answered asks#asks#trolls angst#angst#angst with a happy ending
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👉👈 so @silverskye13 i saw this and..............
had to make an aron helsmet!!!!!! this was really hecking fun to think about actually like what she'd be like n design (which. is a poke at the rp server she was from actually) and also made me sit down and think more on my other minecraft ocs i have sittin around and why they ended up getting redesigns lkdsfh BUT YEAH i!!!!!!!! aron!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
#what do i. tag this as. sdklfjslk#i mean ig since it's like??? she's a concept from it i should???#redstone and skulk#aron#a lotta the stuff aron goes through in her character arc in the rps has to do with like. she has her stuff that she's comfortable doing#and stuff that she's not#and after trying and trying and trying to go outside her comfort zone and help ppl around her in a Better Way#feels like she's just not good at it and should give up and go back to what she was doing before#-only to find out through A Lot Of Events that no she actually was learning even tho she didn't realize it and she was getting better#and she was actually helping#and also. it was. kind of impossible for her to go back anyway. jlsdf.#sO i thought her helsmet would be more of the 'stick with what i know and don't leave that' kinda thing!!!#leaning into her minecraft roots; she was originally a redstoner/demolitionist (i mean she's still a demo but)#so her helsmet would- if following that idea- be Really Hecking Good at redstone#but only stick to redstone bc No I'm Not Trying Anything Else#also aron had a lot of problems trusting people she shouldn't and it really bit her back so there's that aspect too!!!#...also is it just me or does this pic feel very Camish like i don't know what it is about the style bc i tried smth different#and when i finished i looked at it and went 'huh. this looks like camish drew it.'#I WILL ALSO!! make more!! of my other minecrafters!!! i just underestimated how much thought i would be putting into making helsmets sdlkfj#but they are bouncing around in my brain!!! and i will draw them once i can get them to stay still long enough to realize what they are!!!
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I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.
#I was interested. I wanted to get to know you.#I did not want validation. I only said it because you said it... I don't know why. I was susceptible.#I was blindly accepting certain things that you said about me. Judgement that you had for me.#I was under severe stress from my job at the time; while at the same time dealing with unresolved emotional trauma and very low self worth.#I was burnt out. Crushed... Completely.#I didn't want attention. I did not want you to cure my depression. I though I was just letting you know me. I wasn't aware I was oversharin#I tried... SO HARD to get over the things that triggered me and hurt me but I just couldn't...#I wanted to. I did everything in my might; I took it to therapy; I looked everywhere within me; to either get over it#or completely forget about you and stop caring at all; so things were ok and normal again; but it didn't go away...#to this day...#I just feel so... unsafe... at the idea of talking again#I know I wasn't the best listener and I profoundly regret that.#I was not only thinking about myself like you said and I was aware of the effort that other's put; but I was afraid/resistant to PRECISELY#that cause of past events with other people. Because in some I was the one putting that effort and ended badly for me. Looking back#that was inappropiate of you because you felt too comfortable generalizing my past relationships and why in your head they failed.#“I cant help but feel you are looking down on people who” Stay away from me if you ever make a stretch like this again.#By “experiment” I meant that you don't know how a relatioship with somebody is gonna turn out until you go and try. That's all I meant.#I didn't want things to turn out this way. I'm sorry they did.#The effort I put for you may have been shit to you. But to me it was a lot. And I'm done taking judgement.#Altho I love my friends I still keep distance. I still can't completely help that. I can go months not talking to my BF.#You were my BF during my teenage years. I remembered you fondly. I still do.#I don't feel ready to talk again having to keep to myself interest that I might have. Related to trauma. I do not feel comfortable with tha#No I do not look at your blogs.#The day I said I was abused I had a panic attack right after that. That's mainly why I had to cut contact: I didn't want another one.#I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you to not say “talk to the void” again. I didn't trust you to want to hear about it. I didnt feel#safe with you anymore. Event tho we ressumed contact I felt that way the entire time.#I wanted to answer all the questions you had; I really did; until I couldn't stand it anymore.#And the day I removed you from discord... I know you probably had an awful day that day... I'm so; so sorry...#I'd like to one day be completely unbothered by assumptions and stuff cuz I know it's not your fault... You went through stuff too...#vent
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I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me
It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:
At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.
On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."
Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:
But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:
It gets worse.
"Tempest, how could it possibly--"
source of this video that also includes this charming description:
Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'
There is already a meme.
Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:
Who has already done an interview!
As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!
Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.
The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.
Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!
I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.
Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:
I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.
Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:
Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future?
A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.
Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.
Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.
I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.
This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.
Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:
With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"
"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:
There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.
The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.
Even better, this weirdly grainy image?
From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.
If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.
As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.
And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...
This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.
Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.
As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...
Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.
You cannot make this stuff up.
But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.
Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.
HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.
#long post#Willy Wonka#Wonka#Willy Wonka Experience#Willy Wonka Experience disaster#Willy's Chocolate Experience#Willys Chocolate Experience#THE UNKNOWN#Wish.com Oompa Loompa#House of Illuminati#AI#ai generated
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snow spider ; miguel o'hara.
pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)
synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.
words ; 4.4k
themes ; fluff, slight angst
warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)
a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!
main masterlist.
You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly.
When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow.
“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.
Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.
“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”
A beat of silence.
“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard.
You took a step back. “My universe…?”
After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”
You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best.
But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.
It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.
Right?
“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him.
The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto.
Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you.
“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!”
Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.
“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”
Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air.
Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view.
“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless.
Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.
Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples.
Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense.
Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.
Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”
A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit.
“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”
“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“I’ll heal.”
With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.
“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”
You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained.
“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.”
There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.
You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”
Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.
If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.
“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”
The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.
“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.
“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”
“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression.
“It’s not a thing,�� she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”
You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!”
His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”
“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”
With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out.
“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”
Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”
Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.
Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”
To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.
“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence.
You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”
The months pass by in a blur.
You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him.
“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier.
“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”
You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.
“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”
With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”
The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal.
Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.
As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip.
“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.
Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”
Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.
Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.
But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.
Then there was you.
It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.
Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—
To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.
It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face.
“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”
“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”
“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”
Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”
Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps.
You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.
“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.”
“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”
You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”
“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!”
You blinked.
“What?”
Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.
“What?” he parroted.
“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”
“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?”
Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”
You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.
Miguel was crazy about you?
After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).
“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”
“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.
He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”
“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”
Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”
There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.
“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago.
You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips.
With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.
“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”
A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.
The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?”
Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.
Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.
You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite.
“Oka—mmph!”
His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper.
When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.
“He was right,” said Miguel.
“Who was?”
“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”
At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”
You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”
His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you.
When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.
He was falling in love with you.
The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.
#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara angst#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fanfic#across the spiderverse fanfiction#spiderverse fanfiction#miguel o'hara imagines#miguel o'hara#spider-man 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#atsv fanfiction
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One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.
Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.
We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.
Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.
And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.
And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.
About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.
What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?
Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?
Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?
Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.
It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.
Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.
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Right hand
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader
Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more.
Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!;
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~
It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.
You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.
However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.
But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.
He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.
He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.
Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.
An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.
You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.
"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.
You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.
"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.
"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.
"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.
"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.
You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.
"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”
"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.
You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.
"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"
"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"
You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.
He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.
So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.
"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.
You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.
"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.
"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.
"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.
You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.
If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.
"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."
"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.
"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.
"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.
"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.
You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.
"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."
"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."
"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.
"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."
"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.
"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.
Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.
"Of course not, my na-baron."
"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.
"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.
"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.
You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.
"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.
Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.
"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...
"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.
"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.
"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.
"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.
Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.
"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.
It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.
You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.
You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.
"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."
You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.
"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.
"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.
After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.
You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.
Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.
You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.
"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.
You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.
And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.
You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.
You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.
It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.
He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.
Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.
Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.
Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.
You were screwed.
Completely and utterly fucked up.
You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.
But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.
If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.
So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.
"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.
"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.
"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.
You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:
"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.
He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.
You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.
You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.
You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.
He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.
You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.
Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.
You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.
You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.
"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.
You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.
Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.
"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.
You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.
For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.
You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?
The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.
He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.
"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.
The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.
You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.
"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.
However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.
"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.
You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.
"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.
"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.
"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"
"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.
"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.
"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.
"My na-baron, I..."
"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."
For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.
You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.
Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.
He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.
"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.
You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.
As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.
The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.
"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.
Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.
"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."
"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.
"Hand me my dagger."
You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.
He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.
"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.
"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.
"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.
"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.
You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.
His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.
"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"
He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.
"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.
"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.
"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.
"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.
He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.
"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"
You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.
He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.
You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.
You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.
And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.
This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.
You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.
"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...
"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."
You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.
"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.
You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.
You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.
It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.
You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha x y/n#feyd rautha#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd x reader#feyd x you#feyd oneshot#house harkonnen#dune part 2#oneshot#feyd supremacy#feyd smut#feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader#feyd imagine#feyd rautha smut#feyd rautha harkonnen x you#smut#dark romance#toxic behavior
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Life is like a Box of Chocolates || LandOscar
Summary: When you take an edible chocolate with your boyfriends it has an unexpected side effect.
Warnings: 18+ only, edibles, smut, oral (both), mmf.
WC: 2. 3k
The box looked inconspicuous enough.
Oscar turned the packaging over and read through the ingredients while you and Lando opened three individually wrapped treats. They looked like any other boutique chocolate you had tried but this one promised more than a sugar high.
“Bottoms up,” Lando said with a grin.
You tapped your square of chocolate against his with a reciprocal smile. “I hope so.”
You both bit into the treats and moaned at the decadent richness that coated your tongue. You couldn’t even taste the drug that would absorb slowly into your system, leaving you with a long lasting high that would surely make the boring dinner party better.
“Oh my god, that was so good!” you hummed as you licked your fingers clean and found Lando had finished his too.
Oscar chuckled as he saw a spot of chocolate in the corner of Lando’s lips and kissed it clean before grabbing his own piece. “We normally take half.”
“You’ve never been to this event before, trust me, you’ll need a whole one,” Lando assured him, taking the chocolate and guiding it to Oscar’s parted lips himself.
Your body started to heat in response to the small sounds Oscar made as Lando fed him. “Why are you two teasing me? You know we don’t have time to play before the car gets here.”
Reluctantly, Oscar pulled away and swallowed his mouthful before returning to pack up the box. He opened the box again and put the few remaining wrappers back in, before noticing the instruction booklet under the tray. “Uh, guys, I don’t think this was weed,” he mutters.
“What do you mean?” Lando said with a laugh. “This is the box Daniel said to get.”
“Wait, Danny?” You hoped you hadn’t heard correctly. “The same Danny who has been trying to get back at you for the prank in Vegas?”
Lando laughed and shook his head, but realisation seemed to slowly dawn on his face and he snatched the box out of Oscar’s hands. His eyes scanned across the page of tiny disclaimers until it fluttered with his shaking hands.
“What did you give us, Lando?” you asked as you looked between both of your boyfriends. “Osc?”
“Okay, so, don’t panic,” Oscar’s words immediately made your heart start pumping faster and he pulled you into his arms to draw soothing circles over your back. “It’s fine, baby. You might just feel a little…”
“What?”
“Horny,” Lando answered for him before he couldn’t suppress his laugh any longer. “I’m going to get him for this.”
“You don’t sound very worried,” you said to Lando before looking at Oscar. Obviously, he was never one to worry so he just shrugged.
“I’ll take care of you if you need it,” he promised.
—
“I can’t tell if this is the chocolate or me,” you grumbled as you sat between your boyfriends in the backseat of the car. Your hands gripped their thighs in an effort to keep them from roaming any higher, but it was a losing battle.
“That’s just you, baby, it said it could take an hour to kick in,” Lando said, fiddling with his tie again. “Why do these have to be so tight?”
“He says it like he didn’t asked to be choked last night,” Oscar chuckled, reaching over your shoulder to tuck the tie back under his collar. “Now relax.”
“That was the plan,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m going to fucking kill Danny.”
“Worry about that later, we’re here.”
You accepted Oscar’s hand and stepped out after him to the flash of cameras. It was hard not to feel inadequate when you were standing beside two of the most handsome men you had ever met, but when they curled their arms around your waist and whispered sweet words the worry fell away.
“You look so beautiful, darling,” Lando said softly as he brushed his lips over your cheek. “I’m having a hard time keeping this PG-13.”
Oscar caught his finger under Lando’s chin and turned his hungry eyes away from you. “Stop looking at each other like that, you’re not the only one having a hard time,” he groaned. You couldn’t help glancing down his body but the black suit pants hid the ‘hard time’ he was growing in them. “Stop looking at me like that,” he warned.
“I can’t help that I am infatuated with you two,” you said innocently, a sweet smile drawing his attention to your kissable lips. “Tsk, tsk, stop looking at me like that, Osc. Have some self control.”
Lando laughed and led you away from Osc as he tipped his head back with a silent prayer to survive the evening with his brats. When he had his composure back, he scanned the area for you but in those short seconds you and Lando had disappeared into the busy venue. “Fuck,” he groaned before beginning his search.
The crowd of businessmen swallowed you whole and it was only Lando’s hand that kept you from being swept away as he followed the bodies into the venue. His stiff back that you tucked in behind was the only outward sign that he hated the event but it was a night that couldn’t be avoided as McLaren needed investors to continue its growth.
“Drink, love?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Only if it’s strong,” you winked. He smirked before suddenly changing direction and towing you towards the bar. “Shit!”
Lando turned quicker than your eyes could follow and he was glaring at the shocked stranger who stared at the damp splash in your dress. It would have made you laugh if the dress wasn’t worth more than your monthly pay and currently freezing from the icy drink that now decorated your bodice.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” the man apologised.
“You didn’t see her?” Lando asked in disbelief. He couldn't understand how anyone could miss the most beautiful person in the room.
“It-it’s just water,” he stammered as he reached to brush the water drops away but Lando caught his wrist before he could touch you. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t paying attention,” you said as you peered around for the bathrooms before spotting the arrow pointing down a hall. “Come on, Lan.”
“Watch where you are going next time,” Lando imparted the advice as he turned with you, feeling your elbow nudge into his ribs at the attitude. “What? There is no way he didn’t see you. Everyone else can’t take their eyes off you.”
You rolled your eyes at the idea and stepped into the room as he opened the door for you. “It’s you they are staring at,” you corrected.
He slipped inside the powder room behind you and checked the attached room for the toilet was empty before he attacked. His lips threatened to ruin your makeup as he pinned you between his body and the wall, grinding himself along your front until your eyes fluttered shut. “You don’t see what I do,” he murmured between his heated kisses to your neck. His hand ran up your thigh, finding the slit in the dress so it could climb higher and brush the edge of your panties. “So fucking sexy and everyone knows you’re mine.”
A throat cleared and your eyes flew open to see Oscar leaning back against the door, an amused smirk on his lips as he watched the show unfold. “Yours?” he taunted as he snapped the lock into place.
“Ours,” Lando accentuated with his usual sass that had Oscar pushing off from the door and crossing the distance in two long strides.
Desire was pooling at your core as you watched Oscar’s hand envelope Lando’s throat and pull him closer. Their lips collided with a fierce need to determine dominance and Lando tried to fight it before he succumbed to Oscar with a moan. Satisfied, Oscar pulled back to see Lando’s pupils blown out and a breathy whimper escaped his swollen lips.
“You are both mine,” Oscar clarified before his eyes danced over your body and noticed the wet material. “What happened?”
“Some idiot spilt his drink on her.”
Oscar grabbed a hand towel from the shelf and started to dab away as much moisture as he could but every brush of the material sent little bolts of lightning across your body. Suddenly it felt like your body was on fire and you bit your lip as the flames reached your core.
“Oh fuck,” you moaned as the last touch caught the underside of your beast and it felt heavy with need. “Do that again, please.”
Lando was feeling the same heated effects course through his veins as the chocolates reacted with his body. “I think it’s been an hour,” he chuckled, reaching for the stiff peak he could see pressing against the thin material of your dress. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your nipple and hummed at the sound you made for him.
Oscar abandoned the cloth and sank to his knees on the tiles. He swore he could smell your sweet arousal, the mouthwatering scent driving him insane as he bunched your dress up and kissed your core over the lace. The ax of time hung over your head as you all knew the dinner was about to begin but you didn’t care the moment you looked down at Oscar’s eyes.
“Just a quickie,” he agreed as he read your mind. Lando crushed his lips against yours as Oscar pushed your panties aside and tasted you with a languid swipe of his tongue. One boyfriend made you cry out and the other stole the sound with his kiss. Your hands tangled their hair, feeling the different textures between your fingers as you deepened the kiss and rocked your hips against Oscar’s face.
“Fuck,” Lando groaned at the pretty sight. “I’m so unbelievably hard right now.” He grabbed your hand to prove his words and you stroked his length over his trousers. “I don’t know if I want to kill Danny anymore.”
Oscar laughed against your clit and the vibration curled your toes in your heels and you cried out at the sensation. The sound cut through Lando’s amusement and his belt snapped open, his trousers falling just enough to free his cock. Your hand wrapped around him and he covered your hand with his, guiding you up and down in long slow strokes.
“We are going to make a mess of your dress, baby,” Lando moaned as he felt his orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly thanks to the chocolate. You barely heard him as your own impending release hazed your mind but Oscar thought quick enough to pull away. Your body missed his mouth instantly but your cunt clenched at the sight of him taking Lando’s cock deep in his throat. “Fuck, Osc, that’s it, babe.”
You could hardly breathe as you watched Lando’s jaw clench and he shuddered as he spilled himself in Oscar’s mouth. Your boyfriend’s throat bounced as stood up and he swallowed the mouthful down, leaving Lando to sag against the wall while he recovered.
“You missed a spot,” you said as you leant in and caught the drop of cum that clung to the corner of his lips. A soft hum reverberated as you shared the taste with a kiss and you pressed yourself against him to feel just how much he was feeling the drug too. “Need a hand?”
“Not quite,” he smirked, turning you around to face Lando. “Hold on.”
Lando reached out and you gripped his forearms as Oscar bundled your dress up in one hand and pushed your panties aside again with the other. He gave no warning before he sheathed himself deep inside your cunt and you buried your face in Lando’s chest with a gasp. You felt impossibly full before he snapped his hips back and then buried himself in you, over and over, an unrelenting pace that quickly brought back the edge of your orgasm.
Your cries were muffled by Lando’s dress shirt and your nails threatened to rip the expensive jacket he wore as you were rocked by your release that came so suddenly white spots danced across your vision. For a second your body was disconnected from your mind and the two only collided back together when Oscar joined you, warmth pooling in your core as he filled it with his seed.
“Wooow,” Oscar chuckled as he pulled out and combed a hand through his hair. “That shit is strong.”
“At least we have something to take the edge off,” Lando said, before tossing the hand towel to Oscar. Oscar ran the towel under the warm tap and carefully cleaned up the mess he made before he pulled your panties back into place and let your dress fall around your unsteady legs.
Oscar curled a brow at his boyfriend and the glint in his eye that said he expected a few more stops to this room during the night. “Let’s try to make it back to the hotel next time.”
“No promises,” he said with a wink. “Now, shall we go and sit through a bunch of old man speeches and try not to fall asleep?”
You looked down at your dress and found the wet patch had dried considerably, so much that it wouldn’t even be noticeable in the dim lights of the hall. “You still owe me a drink.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lando gave you a salute and unlocked the door, opening it to an empty corridor. “A strong one. Osc?”
“No, thank you, one of us has to be responsible.”
Lando looked at you, his lips barely suppressing the grin on his face. “He says it like he didn’t just fuck you in a bathroom.”
#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#landoscar x reader#landoscar fic#landoscar smut#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#lando norris smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smut
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Underneath Kitchen Lights: A Meet Me in the Back Ficlet | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)
pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: You ride Joel's thigh. That's about it. Some gross fluff too.
warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), daddy!kink, thigh-riding, light spanking, breeding!kink, degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), sleazy Joel’s mouth, brown sugar cinnamon poptart supremacy, does joel have a ponyplay kink?? who’s to say. don’t read into it ok he’s just a silly little guy who says words, mentions of religion, mentions of creampie, mentions of food, just like….really gross fluff tbh I’m sorry about this
word count: ~1.6K | ao3
a/n: this kinda came out of nowhere tbh. I wanted to talk about the cross and I also wanted to implement an ask I got recently lmao. this isn’t necessarily directly after the Christmas special, but it is definitely sometime after those events take place. you can imagine what/when you’d like, really 🙂. also I pulled the title from all my ghosts by lizzy mcalpine, which I HIGHLY recommend listening to with these two knuckleheads in mind 👀. enjoy, my little sickos ❤️
Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi
“So what’s with the cross?”
You’re in his kitchen at his tiny, rickety dining table. Joel had pulled you up onto his boxer-clad lap after you’d polished off the poptarts he had so generously toasted for you after you’d confessed your post-orgasm hunger this afternoon. You’re not normally a poptart kind of girl, but he had the brown sugar cinnamon ones, and you weren’t sure exactly how much of Joel’s fridge contents you trusted.
He had thumbed off the crumbs clinging to the corners of your mouth and slipped them between your lips once you were situated on his lap, legs straddling his thigh.
Now you’re fiddling with the small gold crucifix that perpetually dangles from his neck, currently adorning his bare chest.
“What about it, darlin’?” Joel replies as his hands smooth down your sides adorned with the undone, palm tree patterned button-up he’d been wearing when you came over. Before it had promptly been shucked onto the ground.
“I just see you wearing it all the time. And somehow you don’t strike me as the church-going type,” You say with a smirk, flicking your thumb back and forth on the bottom tip of the cross.
Joel scowls playfully at you, resting his warm hands on the tops of your naked thighs. “‘Scuse me. I take offense to that. I am a good Catholic boy, just like my mama raised me.”
“Bullshit,” You laugh. “Tell me.”
“No, you’re probably gonna think it’s dumb,” He rebuttals, leaning back in his creaky kitchen chair.
“Maybe. Still wanna know.”
He eyes you as his thumbs stroke the insides of your thighs, contemplating. “Alright. It’s kinda just…” He trails off for a moment, averting his eyes slightly down to the linoleum floor of his kitchen. “S’pose it’s just a way of keepin’ my mama with me wherever I go.”
The mirth in your eyes softens a little. “Joel. That’s actually, like…really fucking cute.”
He shrugs a shoulder, a sheepish smile creeping along his lips. “I dunno.”
“It is,” You insist, running your thumb over the face of the small symbol. “Even if it makes it a little weird that you wear it when you fuck me.”
“Fuck off,” He mutters, fighting off a grin as he swats at your hand.
You drop the necklace and wrinkle your nose with a smile. “Need a reminder of good ol’ mom to get it up, huh? A bit too Oedipal for my taste, I gotta say.”
Joel rolls his eyes, but you note a tinge of red burgeoning in his cheeks as you tease him. “I do not—that’s not…You’re nasty. You’re a nasty fuckin’ girl. And not even in a good way this time.”
You giggle as he stammers over his words. It’s not often that you leave Joel floundering for a response. That’s typically reserved for you when he says something ridiculous that you’ve never heard someone else string together into a sentence. As excruciating as it is, you really have developed a fondness for it. He’s like a constant surprise. An increasingly comforting unpredictability.
“Fuck does that even mean anyway? Eddie Pull?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he attempts to recreate what you said, and it takes you concentrating all the muscles in your face to not burst into laughter.
“You mean Oedipal?”
“Whatever the hell you just said.”
Your lips warp as you resist the urge to laugh at his, unfortunately very endearing, lack of knowledge. “Story about this guy from, like, a million years ago who killed his dad and married his mom.”
Joel’s eyes widen. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Some fucked up shit.”
“Tell me about it,” You sigh, winding your arms around Joel’s neck and busying your fingers with the loose curls there. “Although you make me call you ‘daddy.’ Not sure how much better that makes us.”
“Well, I’m sure Eddie’d have a field day with that one,” Joel jokes with a roguish grin as he leans in to capture your lips in a spirited kiss. You giggle against him, recognizing a losing battle when you’ve met it as you ignore the mispronunciation.
Joel moans into your mouth, tensing his grip on your thighs and subtly guiding you back and forth on his leg. You won’t lie, the gentle movement has arousal trickling to your core, but you protest.
“Joel, I can’t,” You insist, rolling your forehead against his. “I just came twice, like, thirty minutes ago,” You groan, despite the wetness darkening the fabric of your panties as Joel spurs you on with shallow, lazy pushes and pulls.
“Don’t mean you can’t do it again,” He purrs, flicking the tip of his tongue over your parted lips before sinking it between them once more.
You whimper as his hands slide over your hips, around to your ass to press into the flesh exposed by your thong. “You have to go to work soon. S’why we stopped,” You breathe out, but your words begin to decrease in weight as you allow your hips to move more freely with Joel’s strong hands as your guide.
“Won’t take you long. I know that for damn sure. Pussy’s too goddamn wet. Glidin’ like a fuckin’ waterslide, even through your panties.”
“Am not,” You argue half-heartedly as your pussy dampens his thigh.
“You’re gonna give me one more,” He says definitively, watching your face through hooded eyes, drinking in your pleasure as it increases.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Didn’t say I was. Just sayin’ what’s gonna happen,” He croons, his fingernails starting to dig into the meat of your asscheeks as you grind on him. “Cause we both know that greedy little snatch wants one more.”
You gasp as his lips latch onto your throat, scraping his teeth along your skin. “Fuck, daddy,” You let slip, rolling your hips through the slick pooling in your underwear.
“That’s right, sugarplum,” He prods you along, his breath hot on your neck. “Pull those panties out the way for me. Let Daddy Joel feel that messy little gash humpin’ his leg. Like a slutty fuckin’ whore.”
“Fuck,” You exhale, tucking your fingers under the gusset of your underwear and yanking them to the side. Your pupils cheat up towards the back of your skull at the first contact of your quickly swelling clit against Joel’s bare thigh.
“Jesus, fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetheart,” Joel groans, your slick clinging to the hair on his leg with each pass of your hips over him. “So fuckin’ desperate for daddy, aren’t ya? Cunt’s probably too sore to take his big, fat cock again, but you’ll take any part of him you can get, won’t you?”
“Yes, daddy,” You whine, your hips cranking faster, your clit throbbing as it drags.
“Fuck, you’re drippin’ down my leg. Gonna make a mess of my floor,” He says, punctuating his words with a solid smack to your ass.
You squeak at the impact, throwing your head back as you fuck his thigh in earnest.
Joel chuckles darkly, spanking you again to feel you buck against him a second time. “That how I get you to giddy up? Smack your ass and you’re off to the races? You gonna whinny for me too, kinky girl?”
“Shut the fuck up,” You grit out, “I’m not doing shit for you, you fucking mama’s boy.”
Joel laughs, burying his fingers in your hips again and jerking you faster on him. “That why you milked my cock dry just a minute ago? Spread those slutty legs for daddy’s fat fuckin’ load to fill you up? Sure were lookin’ like a daddy’s girl then. ‘Fact, I see some of daddy leakin’ out your stretched little cunt right now.”
You whimper as you glance between your legs and see the pearly evidence of Joel staking his claim inside you earlier mixing with your slick and curving in rivulets down his hairy thigh.
“Yeah, that’s it. What you gonna do when daddy finally knocks you up, darlin’? When daddy makes his little girl a mama instead?”
You whine out, frantically fucking your hips forward. “Fuck, I’m so close!”
“Yeah, you are. Probably already knocked up right now, filthy fuckin’ slut,” He growls out, and the words go straight to your pussy in a way that they definitely fucking shouldn’t. “Give it to daddy, sugarplum. Give the rest of it to daddy. All that fuckin’ come. Squeeze it out over me.”
You come with a shout and a vice grip on Joel’s shoulder to keep your balance, your pussy pulsing against Joel’s drenched skin as you ride it out.
“That’s daddy’s girl,” He coos in your ear, still slowly grinding your hips on him with the measured pull of his hands. “Told ya you’d give me one more.”
“Shut up,” You pant against him. “You need to…knock off this whole ‘knocked up’ bullshit, you sick fuck. You’re gonna manifest that shit. Tempt fate. It’s fucked up.”
Joel huffs out a small laugh, finally bringing his hands to a halt to let you rest. “So fucked up I could feel your pussy clenchin’ at just the mention of it, darlin’.”
“Was not,” You mutter grumpily.
“Was too. Maybe God just wants us to use sex as he intended it. I should know,” He says, tugging at the chain of his crucifix.
You groan and lift your head to meet his eyes. “Well, you can tell God that he can kiss my well-fucked cunt. My uterus is off-fucking-limits to you.” With that, you push off his chest and swing your leg over Joel’s to stumble a path to his bathroom, blatantly ignoring the renewed bulge in Joel’s underwear.
Before you shut the door you hear Joel call after you, “Well-fucked, huh? Not too bad for a mama’s boy, was it?”
Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#the last of us#sleazy!joel miller#tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#katy wroted fic#mmitb
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Writing Character CHANGE
Character development is absolutely CRUCIAL to a story, but having spent more time thinking about this topic, I came to the realization that I misunderstood a lot of points other people have made when teaching how to write character development.
There are a lot of factors that play into character development, but in this post, I'll cover some overall, but the main thing concerns any change to your character! (Which is also a huge part in development, really.)
So with this post, I'll be teaching you MY personal tips regarding this subject!
*The Basics*
Before we really get into the developmental stage, there are some things you want to establish, in which I'll explain later!
A couple of flaws.
How your character views themselves at first.
Your character's morals/ideals and how they think.
These things may vary, but you want your readers to be able to at least roughly predict how your character will act during specific events!
*Change*
Character development is just about how your character changes throughout the story. I like to say that there are several different ways one may change, (we'll get into that later on) but your character should NOT stay the same as the same person during the exposition and during the resolution!
"During character development, your character should grow."
This is a common piece of advice; your character needs to grow. And while I've assumed for the longest time that I understood what it meant, it never truly clicked.
While they will use words such as grow, what they really mean is that your character should mature. By the end of your story, your character may not always end up as a better person. When I say mature, I mean that they have reflected back on their life and have understood the consequences that came with their actions (if any) or how they could've done things differently.
Your character will not always end up as a better, fixed person, but they should understand their world and themselves better.
*Negative/Passive Change*
Alright then, so how does a character develop if they don't necessarily change for the better? Well, I'll get into that!
No matter what, your character should have learned a lesson through their experience. Even if they haven't exactly improved as a person, there should be a moral they can learn from what they have gone through.
If not, then did they really grow?
Additionally, how did their qualities negatively impact themselves? If they are bad traits, then it needs to be clear. And the best way to achieve this is by demonstrating how it hurts your character! However, it is rather uncommon for a character to undergo little to no change after a story!
*Positive Change*
Let's circle back to the basics, real quick. Remember how I said that before any development takes place, your character should be anything but perfect? That same thing applies to after the change.
Do NOT create a flawless character by the end of your story. Instead, focus on one or two flaws that get fixed as the story continues. These don't have to be huge, life-changing imperfections, but they can be minor ones that still shape their life in one way or another.
"Fixing" too many shortcomings can make your character seem, well, out of character, producing a character development that's more forced. The same thing applies if you're attempting to FULLY alter a fault that's just too big. The change will be too noticeable.
What am I talking about? Here's an example!
Imagine a character who's incredibly closed off to other people, wanting to ensure that he never gets too close to others.
That's a pretty sizable flaw, no? By the end of your story, you do not want to completely change because you need to preserve character, but you can change it a bit. Does he have a few friends now? Does he understand that there are some people worth trusting?
He may still be closed off to majority of people, but at least it's not everyone, and that's a realistic change.
*Different Changes*
As I continue to read more stories and watch more shows, I have realized that character development is not always about fixing flaws or personality, but it can extend far past that line.
So listen up, because I feel like no one really talks about this.
Your character can change their IDEALS, MORALS, and how they VIEW THEMSELVES.
Hear that? If your character has strong morals, they will hardly stay the same as they reach the end. Remember the requirements I mentioned at the beginning?
See how it connects now? There is SO much more to character development than changing a few imperfections. Like I said in the start, your character needs to grow and mature. Things like new morals or ideals assist with that!
*SUMMARY*
In order to start character development, you need a couple of flaws, an idea of how your character looks at themselves, and their morals. This is because those are the main parts of you character that may change through time.
Growth = Maturing (gaining a better sense of who they are and the world they live in.)
NOT ALL CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT IS POSITIVE!
For negative or passive change, make sure to clarify how their imperfections affected or hurt them and have some sort of moral that follows.
YOUR CHARACTER SHOULD NOT BE PERFECT!
They should not be perfect in the beginning, and not perfect in the end! Do not 'fix' too many traits because you want to preserve character.
I think that's all! It's quite the post for something so simple, eh? But hey, character development is absolutely PIVOTAL to a story so I hope I at least explained the 'change' part of that well!
Happy writing~
3hks <3
#writing#writeblr#writerscommunity#writing tips#creative writing#writing inspo#writing advice#character writing#writing characters development#character development#character change#writing characters change#character building#tips on character development#tips on character building#advice on character building#advice on character development
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