#red cape writing
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I Would Give It All Back Just To Have You (Pt5)
(Pt1) / (Pt2) / (Pt3) / (Pt4) / Ao3
She seems so peaceful, her chest rising and falling with the slow rhythm of sleep. She can’t see everything from where she stands, but she can spot the dark circles under the eyes, scratches on her cheekbone, and some bruises on her hands.
Nothing that can explain what happened.
“Tell me again what happened exactly,” Lena asks with her gaze steadily fixed on the sleeping form.
She hears a sigh and ruffling papers from behind her.
“Lena,” Alex said, trying to hide her frustration the best she could. “We’ve been over this for the last two hours. Do you think I would hide something from you?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.”
Shit. The snarky comment had left her mouth before she could stop it.
“I’m sorry Alex,” Lena says, exhaustion creeping up in her voice. “It was a low blow, even for me. It’s just that I can’t believe it. She looks… she looks so peaceful, so like herself.”
She can hear footsteps coming closer and is not surprised when two hands softly hold her shoulders to make her turn around.
Alex looks older than ever before. More than during those nights spent working in Lena’s lab, intoxicated more often than not. More than in the mornings following those nights, when the CEO had to help settle the agent on the cot in the furthest corner of the room before waking her up with coffee when duty required her.
But more than that, she looks broken. As if the last hope that had kept her going all this time to bring her sister back had finally been snuffed out.
“Okay Luthor, but that’s the last time for today. After that, I bring you back to your place so you rest. And please do actually rest, otherwise Kelly will have both of our skins.”
Thinking back on when the woman had left them two hours ago, exasperated beyond measure, Lena could absolutely imagine her coming for them and sedating them so they would finally rest. Or do something more permanent.
“This is such a mess,” Alex grumbles to herself, rubbing her face.
“You tell me,” Lena answers with an eyeroll.
“Hey, no need to be a smartass. Everything went wrong and unfolded too fast for us to react immediately. Which is why you got injured.”
Lena softens her stance a bit.
“Alex, you have no reason to feel guilty over that. We had no reason to believe…”
“It’s my job to anticipate danger Lena. I’m trained to assess any situation that is alien related, and it was a gross oversight on my part to treat this one any differently.’’
Taking a strangled breath, she adds ‘‘I just never imagined Kara, my sister…’’
Silence falls on them, the only noise breaking it being the regular beeping of the machines linked to Kara unconscious form in the other room.
Lena lets the minutes roll, leaving the other woman time to gather her thoughts, and giving herself time to burn every single detail of the broken hero in her memory.
Alex clears her throat, catching her attention again.
“Kara came through the portal about a minute after it stabilized. She stumbled through it, immediately crumpling to the floor,” Alex said, her face distant, as if replaying the scene in her mind.
“Of course it wasn’t really that surprising. I mean, we don’t know what she’s been through all these months. Did she have to defend herself, what access she had to food and water, …”
The sun lamps in Kara’s room turned on at that moment, giving the sleeping hero the energy needed to keep the healing process going. And ensuring that Lena couldn’t keep staring unless wanting a bad case of uveitis and a major migraine.
When she turns her back to the room, her stomach tightens even more.
I’m failing her once more. What a great friend you are.
“You were the first to rush to her side, barely had she touched the ground that you were kneeling next to her,” Alex explains.
“But when you tried to help her up, things got wrong. Lena, I promise that we reacted as fast as possible, but you know Kara’s super speed.”
The brunette let out a dry chuckle at that.
“As a Luthor, I can’t say that many kryptonians have entrusted me with such knowledge.”
Alex doesn’t gratify her jab with an answer.
“When we saw her holding on to you, we all thought it was for comfort,” Alex sighs, continuing her retelling.
“As I said before, we knew that the phantom zone would have had some psychological impact. What we didn’t see coming is the potential of aggression that would result from all that.”
Lena feels the bruises under her neck brace pulsing anew, as if Kara’s hands were still trying to crush her throat. And if Alex’s avoidance to look at her directly is anything to go by, Lena suspects that the marks are even worse than she has imagined.
Kara has attacked me.
Lena feels sick just to think that, the antithesis far more painful than any physical injury she has ever endured.
“In the blink of an eye you were sprawled on the floor, Kara on top and throttling you.”
Alex’s complexion seems to go greener by the seconds as she finally reaches the plot twist of the events. And Lena feels almost bad to put her through this.
Almost.
“J’onn immediately grabbed her, dragging her away from you, but Lena she was feral. We thought at first that she was confused, delirious even, after everything she went through. But she was coherent. She knew our names, referred to past events, all while cursing and fighting us.”
Despite the blinding lights in Kara’s room, Alex steps closer, trying to conciliate what she had witnessed and the loving image of her little sister.
Lena knows what that feels like.
After all she had adored Lex, had put him on a pedestal for most of their life. He had been a kind and protective boy, and the only Luthor truly welcoming her in their now shared family. Until he wasn’t. Paranoia had erased any trace of that brother who had stood up for her and protected her from any harm coming her way, and had replaced it by an irrational fear of aliens, and ultimately mass murder.
It’s not the time to get lost in the past, get a hold of yourself Lena!
“We had to sedate her, and decided that it’s the safest option for us all at the moment,” Alex continues. “She will have time to heal, and may be her normal self next time she wakes up. Brainy is already working on the test results we’ve got, but most will take a few hours more. And, I can’t believe that I am saying this, it will also give us time to set up a room to contain her safely.”
Lena doesn’t know what to say to comfort the redhead.
She feels sick at the idea of putting someone in a cage like a feral animal, ray-of-sunshine Kara all the more. But a rational part of her knows they don’t have much of a choice, an uncontrollable kryptonian would cause innumerable damages and casualties. Her concussion, damaged trachea and larynx all agree by throbbing more and more acutely.
Alex finally looks at her directly, her eyes more red and blotchy than she has ever seen.
“Let’s get you home, for now we can’t do anything but rest.”
Lena follows the redhead without a single protest.
#red cape babbles#supercorp fanfic#supercorp#lena luthor#supergirl#kara danvers#supercorp thought#alex danvers#red cape writing#supercorp sunday#supergirl fanfiction#supercorp fanfiction
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I WAS POSSESSED TO DRAW THIS FROM THE DREAM I HAD THIS MORNING 💀💀💀
#twisted wonderland#twst#splatoon 3#neo agent 3#splatoon#little buddy#splatoon lil buddy#lilia vanrouge#crossover#fanart#in this moment from the dream Lilia was talking to Mr Grizz#Mr Grizz was like... superpowered like totk ganondorf#im... im already emotionally attached to this concept#might lowkey make... write a crossover fanfic or smthn IDK IDK#neo agent 3 was the main protag btw#i know i say its a movie yet i have tv show ratings in the corner#the LV (language & violence) is coz the 1 they cursed in the dream and 2 grizz murdered lilia#also lilia wore a red cape in the dream with his right general armor
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Thinking about my dmk arc
#Sobbing because I take a wee break from doing Kirby things and since I don’t write anything down I kinda. Forgot what happened in his arc#So I’m just trying to remember#crispy’s art#kirby#dark meta knight#Gayass little creature. He gets a cravat later because I wanted him to be more vampire like#Does the red under the cape look okay? Like it sounded good in production but a month later now I’m kinda?? On the fence??
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Someone help me I'm thinking about the 'kid in a yellow raincoat' horror trope in relation to Jason
#Like. The kid covered in bright yellow in the midst of the “dark and stormy night”#You see that in a movie and you know immediately that something bad is going to happen to that kid#And Jason's Robin cape practically swallowed him whole#The yellow as a symbol of both an innocence and a warning!!!#But also!!!! Yellow as the warning for what that child will become too!!!#Like. The trope subversion in Little Nightmares where (spoilers)#The yellow raincoat kid (Six) Turns Out to be the bad thing that happens- or at least a part of the horror in the story#Which in my head kind of fits Jason??#Like he's the kid in the yellow raincoat that stuck out in the night and bled for it in the end#But he's also the man who comes Out of the raincoat- scarier than the thing that took him#Obsessed with whatever symbolism there is in him dying in the yellow cape and then being revived into a man he never thought he'd be#The cape was torn away covered in blood and he rose from those stains y'know???#Does this make sense??? Whatever it is I want to put it into a fic somewhere somehow#jason todd#red hood#robin#dc#Bongo's Writing!!!#(??? Probably counts)
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I've written nothing this month but I did get some motivation for a weekend project :3
#full costume pending cuz sewing leaves onto a cape is gonna take so long and I gotta wait for the base to show up#but! things are happening!!!#got my hair dyed red again for the first time in a whiiiiile and remembered that this was on my project list#maybe I will also finally sew the book holsters I have pieces for and then I'll have all of the campaigns covered for PC cosplays lol#I should really get around to doing imogen properly and take some pics. I have the whole damn outfit#FUCK I SHOULD'VE BROUGHT IT TO MONTANA. could've straight up stopped on the side of a road and done a photoshoot#like that would've been EASY. you can just stand at the fence at the edge of somebody's giant ranch#and no one would ever realize you were there cuz the closest building is a mile and a half away#it's fine it's cool no worries :')#project list is ridiculous in general ngl. it's fine it's cool!!!#I should really write down all of the items on it so I've got a reference
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Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU (Comics)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd
Additional Tags: Fae Tim Drake, Human Jason Todd, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Magical Creatures, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, not heavy on lore just premise, Cottagecore, Comfort Food, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, no capes AU, POV Tim Drake, POV Jason Todd, POV Alternating, Non-Binary Tim Drake, Touch-Averse Tim Drake, Fae & Fairies
Summary:
Wanting to get away from home for a while, Tim wanders the woodlands until he stumbles upon a human living in a little cottage. Said human is Jason, and he delights in sharing his bread with his new, weekly guest.
+ Prompt by @the-beauty-of-the-written-words
#at least i found a good writing method from these recent fics#tim drake#jason todd#red robin#red hood#for the tags bc this is#no capes au#fae tim drake#non-binary tim drake#cottagecore#fanfic#dc fanfic#ao3
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#ted williams#bobby doerr#dom dimaggio#boston red sox#sorry I’ve been a little quiet lately#I promise it has everything to do with this game#I’m obsessed and swept up#and need about eight eyes and four brains to perceive all the baseball news I want to perceive#right now I’ve just got the standard two and one so I’m… preoccupied#this history!#why do I want to write about the Cape League?
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Can you rec a good book on flytrap care? Got a little guy at the farmer's market the other day on a whim. Hope you're doing well, I miss seeing you on my dash!
Peter D'Amato's Savage Garden is basically the Torah for carnivorous plant enjoyers, but Dr. Barry Rice's site is both the Mishnah and the Gemara—you can tell by the Web 1.0 layout.
#the fact that so many STEM GOATS are legendary old school trekkies is the opposite of surprising but always delightful#i'm fine. it's an election year and the russians attacked odessa and we're in the 3rd year of a pandemic#and i am working to get ukrainian refugees out of red states before the red wave hits in november and they lose another basic human right#but on the other hand i made enough money from writing that i can cover a week at a nice dacha in the cape#which is much sexier than the refurbished dyson standing vacuum i got last year#anonymous#assbox
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Hello I was just on a symphonic concert that had music from videogames and they played a track from Sky: Children of Light and I immediately thought about your blog. "Riacte would probably like this"
Omg!! Sky made it!! (Their tracks are all ON POINT, seriously one of the best things from the game and the music keeps getting better)
And awww <3 thanks for taking the time to send this ask! :D
#ask box#answered#sky is... certainly Something esp after season of little prince and i could write a lot about it 🤡#but i think no matter what happens sky is still a part of me#my pfp is a sky picrew lmao#part of me still remains in the skykid who has timid hair and red cape just chilling out in sanctuary island in summer 2020 🥲#i am a veteran whose fomo is mostly gone since im also a beta tester#but those candle grind days.... the going online for reset.... my god#the candle inflation is getting worse tho. i never financially recovered from the sword pants.#but yeah sky <3#and the music is so good... hidden forest... the season of dreams music... vault of knowledge... eeee
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#cookie run kingdom OC#cookie run kingdom#fluffy#cinnamon#cape#boots#Her name is Chai Tea Cookie#She used to travel around the Great Earthbread#She even joined the sisterhood when she was young#Eventually she settled down in Gingerbrave's kingdom#Chai is an Epic Cookie#She was baked with chai tea instead of milk#I'll probably write a thing about this#She has a pet cakehound named Crinkles#Critters hide in her hair#she carries around Crinkles in her hair#it's adorable#this woman is surprisingly friends with Red Velvet Cookie#we dont question this#Chai throws cinnamon in your eyes and escapes like a ninja#she also steals your pets#dw she usually gives them back#unless your a bad pet owner#then you will get beat the hell up
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I’ve been kind of getting back into dance in recent weeks and just… dancing with the stars sometimes has no right to hurt me like it does when they utterly nail the visual and Flamenco origins elements of the Pasodoble:
youtube
But wait, there’s more!!! The Pasodoble is meant to be a very masculine forward dance — Flamenco’s fanciest footwork has historically always been for the men — but sometimes they surprise me and make a very female forward Pasodoble and just… yes.
youtube
#ooc#[ I went to performing arts schools for my entire educational existence ]#[ year round commitment to the arts babeh ]#[ i was in theatre and choir AND dance ]#[ on top of my visual and musical arts retinue ]#[ it’s how I can sing and write and play instruments and paint and lord only knows ]#[ it’s not talent it’s literally an entire childhood of training lololol ]#[ but yes!!!! the pasodoble is a latin dance despite it being both spanish and french in origin ]#[ and here is the thing: this dance has its roots in flemenco which is ROMANI dance ]#[ it is a dance utilizing a singular person but with two trying to create the illusion of the singular ]#[ because the partners are meant to represent a toreador and his cape ]#[ costuming is a huge part of this which is why it retains so much flemenco styling and energy!! ]#[ black but especially red — for the cape — are traditional color elements ]#[ sometimes you see gold as well and then no traditional gives no fucks but ]#[ my favorite dance!!! wish I could still do it ]#Youtube
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Sexypink - Save the date for Kenderson Noray.
#sexypink/Short films#sexypink/Red Queen/Short films#sexypink/Kenderson Noray#tumblr/Kenderson Noray#tumblr/Red Queen#tumblr/Black Cape Films Production#writing and directing#Kenderson Noray
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watch me make this man my entire personality
#He’s got that transmasc swag AND he has a cape. How better can you get#I really hope the dw reboot is based off the 2017 one </3#He’s pathetic in a very specific way that I enjoy greatly#I gave a hand at the original but it didn’t really have the same type of charm to me#The transmasc swag does not resonate from that one in my eyes. He’s got the same dumbass energy though just not the same patheticness#They’re both pathetic but in good ways. I just prefer the 2017 version’s energy better#I don’t know how to explain#Also!! I thought og Gosalyn was really cute I like her voice#She sounds so familiar…#crisp talks#I love dw’s outfit actually. I see a character with a cape and it’s an instant success in the gender category#As you may be able to guess with my fascination with Meta Knight#I should just start wearing capes/cloaks as everyday clothes. I should. I really should#As soon as I. Get my hands on some more. I only have one#WAIT NO I HAVE TWO. I have a red cloak from that one year I dressed as Mao Mao for halloween#Someone needs to bring capes back into fashion and idc if I have to be the one to do it#i’m cringe but i’m free#The way how I write paragraphs in the tags. I’m so sorry </3#Shoutout to anyone who reads this whole thing I guess-????#Ducktales#Darkwing Duck
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rewrite erik's red death is made of fab black lace, but if it was a 'don't touch me' thing like book and 'ghost' erik, i imagine there would be a scene like this...
some guy at the rewrite masquerade: *pokes the red death*
red death: *spins around and seizes the guy's wrist*
"W̴̯͚͓͠Ḩ̴͚̘͇̞̩̰͙̥̬͔̟̜̅Ǫ̴̣̭̻̣̥̩̬̪̣̘̝͉̼̙͝ ̴̧̨̗̯̲̜̄̀͆D̶̡̡̞̰̻̥̰͚̮̙̼̘̳̈́͌̚ͅͅḀ̴̧̹͍̜̭̞̪̖̎̀͒͐̈̾̚̚͝R̵̛̻̹̍̂̈͆̎Ě̷̤̜͈͕̞͖̙̮̒̀̎̄͋̋̾̀̍̿̾̎̕S̸͉̞̈͌̈͘͜͠ͅ ̵̩̉̑T̷̫̅̆̿̏͌̒̄̊̌̌̌̅̌̆Ô̶͉̬͎̺̥̾́͝ ̴̨͓̣̤̟͎̜͈̩͙̮̩͓̀͊̾̑̎̎̉̔̽̾͌͋̅̑̚ͅͅD̸̺̉E̷̢͕̼̯̖̲̩̗̒̃̌Ḟ̶̢̢̛͓̤̬̩̼̙́͂̋͑̌̾͜͝Y̵̨̞͉̗͌̀̈́͆͌͠ ̴͖̠̠̝̖̗̤̗̪̞̪̀͛̃̓͐͆̕T̸̢̲͈̣̺͈̙̳͉͗̆̒̒͂͝Ḧ̷̡̧̧̛̘͕͓̺̩̬͚̼͗͛̏͆̎̉Ē̵̗͙̠̫̣̼̼̩̮͎̳̣͍̝̄̔͗͘̚ ̴̡͉̲͍̯̺̫̳̾͌̄͊̏ͅR̶̨̢̘̫̹̫̻̞̳̋̔̿̈́̇͘̕͝È̵̛͎̦͙̽̀̂̽̎̓̋̉͗͌D̵̛̟̫̭̼̜̞͔̯̦͖͉̱͊̈́̈́̽͆̅͋̏͝ͅ ̶̛̹̠̼̻͕̟̤͕͖̖̣̣̾̌͗͐̉̏D̶̡̝̥̳̩̝̈́̋̃̊̿̓́̃̽̀̈́͠ͅȆ̵͓͈̩̲̹̫̥͓̙̞̫̰́̆̈̍͛͌͠A̶͖͈̫͉͖̗͇͙͚͈̗͙̓̓͗́̀̓̑̕͝T̸̻̯̙͂̆̌̕H̷̨̼̝̙̺̬̞̟̯̎̐̓͑̍̐̓ͅ?̴̢̛͕̪̗͖͓̗͈͇̰͎͒͊́͜ͅͅ?̵́̃͂̉́̑͗͆͑͘��̰̜͉̿͛?̸̢͆̅͒̍̅̔̚
when you see a sign at the museum saying 'don't 'touch' it's generally assumed that
Y̷̧̛͚̪͚̺͉͉̜̋̄̃̂͆̽̿͐̊͘O̷͉̤͉̰̜͚̫͕̳̞͍̥͕̱̓͌̈́̎̽ͅU̴̻͍̳͓̰̙̻͖͈͐̀͆̀̈́͆͛̿̄͐͑̄̉͆͘͜ ̷͔͊̓̓̕͝D̶͈̹̫̼͔͎͕̗̬̩͑̽́̆̉͌̎͛̓͌̕̕͝Ǫ̶̙̤̟̰̟͙͔̘͉̝͎͊͊̌̆̀̆͋̋̃͗̏͂͐̚Ṇ̵̡̬̩̋̓͝͠'̸̨̝̜̟̻̣̝̳̔͛͜T̵̡̛̝̼͖̺͇̘̱̤͙̤̿̊̓̒̓̾̊͋̋͂ ̵̢̨̧̥̹̬̩͉͎̠͓͔̌̐̀̍͗̾̔͌͛̐͑̒͠ͅT̸̙͚̭̠͇̖͑ͅǪ̸̹͖̳̯̥͙̯̠̰͕̩̀̽̀̈́U̶̻̥̳͚̪̬̙̼̪̟͈͓̱͍̠̕C̶̟͉̑H̷̨̢̜̼͙̭̦̖͉̽́̋̀́̈́̏͝ ̸̢͙̺̙̘͇̞̪̥̼̬̊̌͒̄́͌͑̄̀́͒̚̚I̶̧̠̪̬̤̘͍̜̭͙͔͔̺͇̦̐̆̑̌́̌̅Ṭ̴̢̦̻͍̎͒͘!̶̠̤̆͊̒̊̐͘!̴̛͎̭͇̲̜̂̈́̔̎̈̂͗̃̕͝!̴̜̙͈͈̃̆͑̿̾̒̒̊̓̐̚!̷̧̲̼͔̅̓͋̈́̏̂͂!̴̣͙̣̾̆̀͑͑͛"
guy: "yeah that's why i'm not allowed in museums anymore!"
#lol#don't mess with the red guy! ;D#this would be a hilarious scene in rewrite erik's pov story!#maybe i could change the cape to a full one with lace over it?#there could be a funny scene of erik saying that sewing in cursive is hard and nadir looks over to see him writing 'don't touch me bish'#and he's like 'you can't use such a vulgar word at a public event!' and erik's like 'what do you want me to say 'f off or else?'#then nadir gives him this long look and he's like 'fine i'll change it :(' which is when the original phrase comes in!#also i'm debating on putting a slit in the robe#it might look weird but how else would rewrite erik be able to show off his knee length boots? ;)#poto rewritten
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💬 I’d love to put Pin and Joel in a compromising position (as innocent or as spicy as you like) where someone walks in on them. Specifically either Ellie or Tommy. Someone that will make Joel burn bright red with embarrassment as they rib him mercilessly. And even though Pin would normally be mortified seeing Joel squirm is so endearing and hilarious for her.
(P.S. huge fan girl of your writing ♥️)
Rookie Mistake
Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 590 words | warnings: rated a very light E, making out and touching in a semi-public place | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe
This is an extension of Hallow'seams, following immediately from the end of that drabble. I recommend a re-read it before diving into this one!
Joel knows it’s a rookie mistake. It’s embarrassing, really.
But when it comes down to it, it’s your fault. All the blood from his head rushes south once he spots that little costume of yours, until the only thought left is to hold you to your invitation.
‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'
He never thought much of the toolbelt, a hand-me-down he picked up at the local shop in his first weeks in Jackson.
But on you, it’s something else. Gripping the well-worn leather, he manhandles you across the small space of the bathroom to press you against a waist-high cupboard, and you take the smack on your ass as a cue to hop onto the surface with a grin.
And with that, he’s fucking throbbing for you, straining against the cheap, fake leather gladiator skirt. He knows not much can happen here, but the sound of the party just outside the flimsy door lends an excitement that makes his breath ragged.
Tipping you back so that you’re leaning against the wall, he pushes your legs apart to stand in between them. He pulls roughly on the toolbelt, prompting a gasp from you when he jolts your hips into his, rasping, ‘How am I supposed to look at that from now on, huh?’
‘Let’s just hope Tommy doesn’t borrow it,’ you sass back.
He growls at your retort, as if he can get any harder than he already is. ‘I got half a mind to tell you what to do with that smart mouth, sweetheart -’
Grabbing the scruff of his cape, you pull him in for a hard kiss, the boldness coaxing a deep groan out of him as he presses into you, big hands palming your ass and pulling you flush against him, hips rolling, rubbing his clothed cock between your thighs, chasing friction through the layers -
‘Holy shit!’
It takes Joel a second to pull back from you, the beer in his system rendering him slow to respond to the sudden interruption. But still, his first instinct is to shield you from whoever it was that showed up at the door.
That whoever turns out to be his little brother, in a baker’s costume (Maria is the oven with the bun, get it?), with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning on the doorframe like the cat with the cream.
‘Get the fuck out of here, Tommy!’
‘I don’t know about that, big brother. Looks like you need me to rescue you from the big bad contractor trying to get under your skirt,’ he grins and waves at you over Joel’s shoulder. ‘Hey, Pin!’
Going beet red, fists clenching, Joel spits out, ‘Goddamnit, I mean it, fuck off Tommy!’
‘I wish I could, but Maria needs to pee. You know how pregnant women are.’
Breathing a frustrated breath through the nose, he grunts. ‘Fine. We’ll be right out.’
The door closes with a thud, and with an embarrassed groan, he presses his forehead to yours. ‘Sorry my brother’s such a dick, sweetheart.’
‘I heard that!’ comes Tommy’s indignant reply through the door.
You laugh, combing a hand through his tousled hair, but your glazed eyes tell him that you’re no happier at the disruption than he is. ‘What else are little brothers for?’
Making room for you, Joel catches you when you hop off the cupboard, and just so you know that the night is far from over, he slants his lips over yours in a heated kiss.
‘So - your place or mine, sweetheart?’
Note: Thank you for this request @pedroacrossthestreet! It was so fun to revisit Hallow'seams, and I absolutely had to have Tommy walk in on them, you know that man would give Joel shit for months to come 😉
Thank you @firefly-graphics for the divider.
#seams sleepover#hallow'seams#fuckyeahseams#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller imagine#joel miller smut
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These Destined Ends
Part 1
Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?
Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: none for this chapter. Masterlist of warnings overarching the series
A/N: Hello! If you’re here then there’s probably something wrong with you too, so let’s be friends. I haven’t been able to write anything lately until I saw the latest Dune movie and then all of my thoughts became dedicated to Feyd-Rautha. I must get these thoughts out. Help. Me.
“Chin up.”
Your mother brushes your hair back, bronze, like hers, and lifts your chin. Her gaze is critical. You stare back, thinking only of the things that she will find fault in you. An endless amount, you muse. The slightest flicker of expression on Lady Jessica’s face informs you that she suspects what you’re thinking. Your teeth grit.
“Must you do that?” You hiss through your painted lips. The servants have dressed you specially for the occasion. A floor-length black dress and, settled on your shoulders, a red cape clasped together with the House of Atreides insignia.
Jessica withdraws her hand. Your mother radiates femininity and power, a feat you’ve yet reached. Even the cool way in which she regards you drips with regality.
“Do what?” She asks, feigning innocence.
“Don’t make me say it.”
Jessica’s blue eyes harden. “You don’t have to, daughter. It’s plain enough.”
Mother and daughter stare at one another.
She tried to teach you the ways of the Bene Gesserits, but you failed to take to it. You were too expressive, too…volatile. You struggled to detect the slightest change in voice, you could never sit still long enough to study, and your facial features always betrayed you. The only aspect you succeeded in was combat — there was no need to mask your feelings, your thoughts, able to just completely lend yourself to the blade.
But it wasn’t enough.
“You’re fortunate the Reverend Mother has chosen to see through with this arrangement,” Jessica all but snarls. “There’s hope for you still, in form of an heir.”
The Kwisatz Haderach.
The only reason your mother still spoke to you, affords you any attention at all. The fact that you’ve been painstakingly bred to produce him: a Bene Gesserit of male origin, capable of accessing the memories of his ancestors and see through time and space itself.
A terrible mantle for an unborn child.
In the black of night, you sometimes lay your hand on your abdomen and utter apologies to the egg nestled in your ovary; burdened with horrible purpose. If only you could avoid its fate. But you were not even in control of your own.
“I want to stay here,” you plea finally, pitifully.
Jessica steps away from you, brushes off her skirt. “You know that you cannot.”
“I can help Father,” you insist. “You know that he worries about gaining the approval of the Fremen. I can —”
“Enough!” The Voice. It snaps your mouth shut and renders you mute. “This is bigger than both of us.” Jessica snatches your upper arm, pulls you close enough to feel the heat of her anger. “Your father wanted a son. A heir. But it was my duty to produce a daughter. I ignored the pleas of your father because I understand what it is to serve. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
You swallow your disgust, though it lingers like a foul taste on your tongue.
This isn’t the first time that your mother has told you this. Nor did you think it would be the last.
Perhaps making a home among your enemies would be better than staying here among family.
“Fine,” you say. You wrench your arm from her grasp then turn away. It’s futile, you know the heighliner will be here soon to whisk you away, but you can’t stand to be in the presence of your mother any longer. Fortunately she lets you go.
You’re not even aware of where your feet are taking you until the familiar sound of the baliset meets your ears. Gurney rests lazily on the ground in the massive corridor, back against the wall and string instrument in his scarred hands. He doesn’t look at you as you approach nor when you collapse down beside him.
Usually Gurney’s situationally appropriate songs bring you a modicum of comfort, but today it seems more ominous than insightful.
“I won’t miss your singing,” you say.
He stops playing. “You jest.”
Playfully, you crack open one eye and peer at his baffled expression. You try not to laugh. “I don’t.” A sigh escapes your mouth then, and you slump further down, uncaring if you rumple your gown. “I will, however, miss the singer.”
“Don’t bother appealing to an old man like me. It won’t get you anywhere.”
“Hm,” is all you say, lost in thought.
Gurney sets the baliset to the side. His hand finds your knee and he squeezes. “You will be fine, Lady Y/N. I’ve taught you well.”
“Not even what you’ve taught me will suffice for what I’m up against.”
“Nonsense.”
Both eyes open now, you stare pleadingly at the swordsmaster. “Just come with me. Please.”
It’s Gurney’s turn to sigh. With a groan he heaves himself to his feet and offers you a hand. “You know that I can’t,” he murmurs.
His loyalty to your father doesn’t extend to you.
He is Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis, after all. And you are just his daughter. A pawn. A womb and nothing more.
You reach out to ghost your fingers over the scar on Gurney’s cheek. “Tell me about them.”
The Harkonnens.
“There’s nothing you don’t already know or haven’t learned from the filmbooks,” Gurney says to you in a terribly soft voice. It’s unfitting of the great soldier. “They are a cruel people. Do not trust them.”
You nod, irrationally devastated that your final plea to Gurney did not work. But his words were not anything new.
Nothing you learned about the Harkonnens has been pleasant — from their oppressive rule and misogynistic society down to their industrialized homeworld. Your chest aches.
First you were forced to leave the lush beauty of Caladan for Arrakis. You had even grown admittedly fond of the desert planet, just to yet again be snatched from another home.
“Thank you, Gurney. For everything.”
He dips his chin in acknowledgment, then holds out his arm for you to take.
Gurney has been like a second father to you over the years. While Leto was out securing political alliances and holding meetings, it was Gurney who kept you company. He aided in your combat training and believed in you when no one else did. To lose him would be to lose a great friend, indeed.
By the time you return to the antechamber where you’d been, Leto has arrived. He looks as cunning and handsome as ever, and the smile he flashes you is enough to cut you to the bone.
If what Jessica said was true about your father wanting a son and being sorrowful he did not get one, you would never know. He has only ever made you feel loved.
“My beautiful daughter,” he greets you. He smells wonderful. The same way he did all of those years ago when he would tell you stories of your grandfather and tuck you into bed, his beard tickling your cheek.
You breathe him in for one of the last times. “Hello, father.”
“You look marvelous,” he says. His smile falters slightly. “Are you ready? I wanted to ensure that you’ve said your goodbyes before we leave.”
Bitterly, you think, Before I leave. Everyone else will return to Arrakis and you will be moored on Giedi Prime, married to a bloodthirsty monster and forced to grow round with his child.
The thought makes your knees tremble.
The Harkonnens controlled the fiefdom of Arrakis before your family and were unbelievably outraged that it, and the flow of spice, had been stolen from them. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what your reception on their planet will be like. It’s any luck if you don’t get slaughtered upon arrival.
Especially since the Baron’s nephew, the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha — your betrothed — was known for his brutal nature. You hoped stupidly that the arrangement of marriage and promise of an heir would be enough to keep you alive.
At least for awhile.
Feyd-Rautha killed his own mother. Who knew what the status of wife meant to him?
“I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you answer Leto. He squeezes your hand.
You hug Gurney goodbye then board onto the heighliner after your parents. It’s difficult to suppress the tears threatening to fall as the ship takes off in a flurry of sand and departs.
Normally you’d be completely enraptured with the endless golden dunes, but today you stay rooted to your seat and refrain from crying.
The flight to Giedi Prime happens much too quickly for your liking. Already your heart is in your throat, hammering out your nerves in a steady rhythm.
The view from your seat reveals the strange nature of your new home — a black sun. Never again will you see the stretch of blue sky from Caladan or feel the formidable heat of Arrakis. The entire world outside the ship stood in sharp black and white contrast, all color drained from the surroundings and its people.
You spy hoards of Harkonnens gathering beyond the ship, awaiting the arrival of the na-Baron’s wife and their future Baroness.
Your stomach churns. How could you ever lead such ugly, wicked people?
Jessica’s voice engulfs you. “Chin up,” she says again to your dismay. “You mustn’t show any weakness. Not here.”
You raise your chin the slightest amount. Jessica nods stiffly in approval, and it’s in that moment you understand that your mother’s harshness has been preparing you for this. While you hardly feel the urge to forgive her, an odd sense of calm washes over you.
You are an Atreides. And you always will be.
No one can take that from you.
The boarding ramp disengages and you’re the first one to step onto it. A hush of silence befalls the crowds.
You stride forward with as much confidence as you can muster, focusing not on the leering eyes of the Harkonnens but instead on the Baron’s fortress. A large pathway separates you from it, granting you plenty of time to get your fill. It’s as grand as it is excessively boastful; tall, pointed towers cleverly connected, all sharp lines and edges. It leaves the impression of a finely crafted dagger.
A display of power and wealth.
Behind you your parents emerge and the carefully observant crowd launches into disarray — shouts and yells of anger, of hatred, grate your ears. You know that they take it in stride, however, and their strength fortifies your own.
By the time you’ve crossed the distance from the heighliner to the inner walls of the fortress, your eyes are blurried by the strong contrast outside now given away to darkness. It takes a few moments for you to adjust. When you do, you quickly look over your surroundings.
There’s few decorations or art. It’s cold and impersonal and extremely clinical.
Your slippered feet reverberate off the high ceilings.
Bracing yourself, seemingly, has been for no reason. For it’s not the Baron and his nephew that meet you but rather a line of Harkonnen soldiers. Their faces are stoic.
You bristle. “Where is the Baron? And my betrothed? Do they not wish to receive us?”
The soldiers do not answer.
A man appears then from down the hall, a Mentat by the look of him. He’s pale and bald and clad in black like the other Harkonnens.
“My apologies, Lady Y/N,” the Mentat says. “My name is Piter de Vries. I am here to escort you. The Baron and na-Baron will receive you now in the throne room.”
Leto lays a hand on your arm as if to stifle your response. “Please, Piter, lead the way.”
You can’t help but glance curiously at your father. This entire situation was delicate, you knew, but you wonder at his subservience. It’s an insult not to be immediately greeted by their hosts, especially when your guests happen to be the Duke of Arrakis, his concubine, and their daughter. If Leto agrees with this affront, though, he doesn’t show it.
Leto simply strides after Piter with you and your mother in pursuit.
The fortress boasts sleek walls and floors, polished to perfection. Piter guides you to the throne room a short distance away, the sight of it stealing the breath from your lungs. It’s larger than any room you’ve seen before, outfitted on the far side with steps leading up to a grand dais.
And upon the dais, demanding your attention, is Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. The man is as large as the throne room itself but not nearly as impressive, pale and beastly, his enormous weight supported by suspenders. He makes no movement as you enter.
Your gaze moves quickly, eagerly, away from him.
Standing on either side of the dais are his two nephews. Aware that you can’t stand to face your betrothed yet, you fix your attention on his brother. Rabban, you recall his name.
Rabban is bound with hard muscle and swathed in what you can only describe as thinly veiled anger. At his side, his fists clench and unclench restlessly.
Then, without permission, you look to your future husband.
Feyd-Rautha stands as tall as Rabban but roped instead with lean, attractive muscle. His brow sits above dark eyes and a generous mouth. There’s a frightening intensity to the way he stands, encapsulating both nonchalance and a dangerous arrogance. Clearly this man is used to getting his way and will stop at nothing to do so.
And it’s this man that makes no effort to disguise the way he studies you, starting at the top of your head and trickling languidly downward.
A chill dances down your spine.
When he catches this, catches you watching him — he must’ve known that you were — his lips twitch into the faintest of smirks.
Part 2
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