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#but other than that not to much 'that ship SUCKS' as some i've been in lol
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i would love to hear some apocalypse au rambles
oh my goodness ofc!! I'm calling it The Descent as of now :3
Regulus has like no memories for a good chunk of what I have planned.
BUT he and James have been married for around three years before the apocalypse happened (yes, this does mean Regulus forgets about James. Regulus gets to fall for James all over again!! awww how cute!! However James is suffering bc he remembers EVERYTHING he is ALREADY in love with his HUSBAND.)
There is Black Brother angst as the usual, but it's different then the usual :3 bc one of them doesn't remember the other :3 and one of them thinks the other is dead :3
Harry is a little baby :]]]] a literal infant. He is going to get into so much trouble and I'm going to have a blast writing it.
I've decided that Sirius, James, Peter, and Severus were coworkers. James, Sirius and Severus had their usual beef, Peter was just there somehow in the middle of it.
James would brag about Regulus to anyone who listened. He loves his husband so much. Sucks that James thinks his husband and child are DEAD. he's going through it for a while. and by a while I mean until he meets regulus again. so ya know, however long that takes.
Instead of Remus being a werewolf he's some weird half zombie. No one knows why or how. He's just built different.
Sirius is, like, madly in love with this weird little freak. Would do anything for Remus. It's love at first sight for Sirius. James tries to play wingman. Wingman in the apocalypse, hell yeah 😎 (it goes about as well as you'd expect(which is not well at all))
The ships planned are mainly wolfstar and jegulus but there are a bunch of smaller ones including nobleflower, pandalily, rosekiller, and whatever the ship name for Alice and Frank is. Some of them have more impact than others ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭
The golden era is included in my plans! tho they are mostly like literal toddlers and babies for the fic. They're going to cause so many problems it's crazy.
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I've been thinking a lot about that one confession from the person who's grown hate to Secret Soulmates and I feel their frustration to my core. I just don't have any negative feelings towards Biggri/Secret Soulmate specifically, caused by the amount of them content that's about Scar & Scarian/Desert Duo, actually I think I've become more invested in them, while I started off just using it to just to get more BigB content(my mistake, I overestimated how much I'd get hearing he's mostly sidelined unless it has to do with Grian) there's been some compelling fanart and I think they deserve better than to be used as fodder for a different ship/character(plus bailing on Biggri for that, to me, feels like the other thing wins, that's what it wants me to do and I have to keep going outta spite a little a bit.) However, I instead have grown a bit resentful towards Scarian.
Which sucks because more often than not, people who like/include Biggri have blogs/accounts that are 90% Scarian. And it doubly sucks because Biggri then gets included more but because nearly everyone's a Scarian shipper chances of BigB being the borderline pitstop black love interest increases. Because they include it but Scarian's obviously the planned endgame so BigB's just like a stepping stone, a prop, a detour through the park on the way home. And I know that outside of like a specific group, no one's actively trying to put BigB in a negative light when they include Biggri to whatever extent they include it and some people want to put care into it and write it well-- and do, but at the end of the day it still falls into the same cateogory and that makes me sad.
More BigB meta analysis(& BigB-centric content in general) is needed indeed.
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assiraphales · 7 months
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it's so funny that i have you on one side shipping zolu and a mutual on the other shipping sanlu. feels like i'm in the middle of a war i don't know anything about and everyone is winning
you are walking down the streets of a very peaceful verona
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kakusu-shipping · 10 months
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I’m kinda insecure about one of my f/o’s because, 1. He’s a teenager (and I’m an adult), and 2. He’s kind of a meme character. I’m worried people will think I ship myself with him as a joke, but I’m not. I really, really like him!
This is the Internet and it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks ever.
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Well that's my go to response anyway, but I do understand the hesitation, especially with a canon minor character, feels like you gotta dance around certain people for that, and it makes the whole thing feel kinda exhausting. Though I'll say, it's probably not as scary as you think it is, it's easy to fall into this hole on the internet that if you make even the slightest misstep people will scream for your head, but it's really not that bad, I promise. Maybe I'm just lucky though, or off most people's radar.
The other half though, the worry people think you're self shipping with them as a joke? Honestly, if people think that, it's probably fine all things considered? Like I get it kinda sucks not being taken seriously, kinda hurts, but at the end of the day your F/O knows you're serious, and you know you're serious, and that's what matters.
Every character is someone's unironic Fictional Other. There are people out there who'd unironically want to Marry Shrek, or Nagito Komeda, or Sans Undertale and the Oncler together. And like!!! Good For Them!!! I love that for them!!! Shrek and Sans love them back!!
So if you're comfortable with it, take a deep breath, and love loud.
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i gotta say that i'm grateful for food metaphors because a) they make What Codependency Actually Is way, way easier to explain, and b) they give enough of a buffer to explain said things without delving too much into gory details of one's personal experiences
#moogletalks#i am in the process of writing up a very long post about this. some highlights are:#a) codependency is not loving commitment. it is the opposite of loving commitment#codependency is not about being more than the sum of your parts together; it is not about keeping each other fed#it is about cutting off parts of yourselves and each other; it is about depriving yourselves and each other of food.#it is inherently about making you and your relationship /less/#b) codependency is a huge spectrum of traits; features; power imbalances; intentionality; toxicity vs abuse; and direction of the abuse#but what all of it has in common comes down to that.#c) codependency is care and support in the same way that crunch is productivity and love for videogames as an art form#d) why the fuck would you /want/ to do that to someone you love. why would you want to be a part of that process#e) on the flipside: why the fuck would you /want/ to taint someone's love for you by making it into a runaway train#and forcing them to watch helplessly as you park your car on the tracks in front of them and call it love#which. i /do/ know why. it fucking sucks so much and it's so hard when it feels like that's what love is. i've been there.#it's not. i promise you it is not. you deserve better and your loved ones deserve better; and better exists#f) people are unbelievably fucking cruel to codependency survivors and their allies who try to speak up and educate about the harm of this#because they want to sound cool and edgy and counterculture; and coo about their ships#and get clout off of dumbass '''profound''' aesthetic posts about devouring each other and living in a bog because it's Romance or whatever#instead of actually taking any responsibility for knowing what words mean and thinking about the things they say#because they didn't like the tone of some survivors who called them on it and therefore everyone who does is ~cringe~#g) the irony of this is that you stupid motherfuckers sound like people saying 'teehee i stepped on a leaf the intrusive thoughts won!!!'#there is zero difference here. none. you are being that guy.#and it is not any less harmful /or/ embarrassing when you are doing it to codependents instead of people with OCD#you're just embarrassing yourself on tumblr instead of tiktok#i am begging you. learn to take correction. just take the L#and admit that getting all your life advice from bogposts on tumblr is as dumbshit as doing the same with buzzfeed mental health listicles#abuse cw#ableism cw#codependency cw
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leidensygdom · 1 month
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The ways in which being asexual feels isolating
I've been pondering whether to post this or not, but I figured out I wanted to explain a bit of this experience.
So, I could go on a very long tangent on how being asexual is usually a lonely experience, and how much I've been otherized here and there- Specially in real life. How the same people that claimed to be queer (or allies) had been much weirder about my asexuality than they were about me being bi/pan or whatever.
But I think I wanna talk about how something like that bleeds in every aspect of socializing, even down to something like fandom. I stay away from fandom usually- I like to look at cool fanart and that's about it. I hate discourse, I hate drama, I hate reading people getting worked up because they're treating fanon as canon. But there's one thing I've noticed, over and over, that just sends me off my rails.
And it's how fandom tends to treat asexuality (or aromanticism). So, you get a character in some piece of media that explicitly, unequivocally, states they're either ace, aro, or both. "I do not have interest in a partner", "I don't desire to have sex nor do I enjoy the topic", whatever. And as an ace person, I do appreciate being able to see myself in media- There isn't many chases where something is established that bluntly.
Now, you decide you want to check some fanart for that. Fandoms have this tendency to make absolutely everything about shipping, even when the media they're basing it in does not revolve about that (and it's annoying, because a lot of times people aren't interested in the actual themes- It's all reduced to shipping). Suddenly, you notice people treating the aforementioned character as anything but aro or ace. It's all about shipping. "This person interacted with this other person in a way two friends would, but we gotta make this their entire personality now". Some people may instead go for "well, maybe the character is not having sex, but they're probably an absolute freak about it, studies it extensively, has encyclopedic knowledge about it-"
Now, there's of course sex-favourable aces, and that's completely valid, but it's already straying from what, canonically, the character had mentioned. Asexual or aromantic characters aren't really allowed to exist as themselves. People often see them as a blank slate to fill, to change, to fix. I could talk forever about how people react to real life aces like that. I've had people asking me incredibly invasive questions because they saw my lack of sexual attraction as something broken, something they could fix.
And I hate that! I think I'm allowed to say that I hate that! It's hard and unusual for media to cement an aro/ace character, because they're defined by the lack of interest for something, which is often hard to show. But when it does- No one seems to care. It's all shipping, it's all "well, he's gay in denial", "well, she's probably super repressed". If you took a canonically gay character and made them straight on a fanfic, you'd get angry people. Which is bound to happen when you erase representation that people identify with. But aro/ace characters are NOT even seen as queer, they're not even seen as "representation" by most people. You can erase that bit of it, put some god awful shipping on top, and people will applaud you. And it sucks!
I wish people would see being aro or ace as an identity worth respecting, not an identity that needs overwriting. It feels a bit too close to how people often treat aro/aces irl, and it sucks. It reeks of this sort of exclusionism, where "aro/aces are technically queer but it's queer lite at best, it's less interesting than being gay, and we kinda don't want them near us anyhow". Again, I've had far worse experiences about being ace than I have about not being straight.
Sorry if the post got long, but I hope this experience may at least resonate with other people who have been struggling with this, too. It has always felt just kind of lonely to be ace, and see how little people do even consider it an identity, even when it comes down to something like fandom.
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cauliflowercounty · 1 month
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Knives Dance (Part III)
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
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Summary: It was hard to have a prose summary so here are some bullets of what’s happening in part 3
Baron Feyd missing you + heartfelt reunion 
Feyd being totally infatuated with you
SCIENCE!!! and POLITICS!!!
Rabban being pitiful
Reader being a badass
Feyd vs Paul on Arrakis (what will happen? You’ll never knowww… [unless you read this chapter **wink, wink, wink**]
Warnings: Violence, blood, death (woohoo)
Word Count: 10.3k (whoops… I went typey-type)
A/N: I wanted to say a sincere thanks to everyone who's read Knives Dance up to this point. This series is some of the most fun I've had writing in a long, long time. Sending lots of love your way :)
Part I | Part II | Part III
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Stirring gently in his bed, Feyd recoils slightly as the light from Giedi Prime’s black sun hits his eye line through the wall of windows that separate his bedroom from the private balcony that overlooks the cityscape.  He extends his arm to your side of the bed and runs his hand languidly across the surface, feeling the cool, silky sheets under his fingertips. His heart feels heavy in his chest, and he lets out a low growl of frustration into his pillow. It has been a long three weeks without you.  
You’ve been off-world on a visit to Youra to see your father and bring back equipment for the laboratory you’re constructing on Giedi Prime. He knows that he doesn’t have to worry about your safety because he insisted on a full Harkonnen security detail accompanying you, which should have put his mind at ease, but he’s laid awake each night since your departure, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think of disasters befalling you during your travels. One night it’s asteroids colliding with your ship, tearing gaping holes in the walls, and sucking you into the vacuum of space. Another, it’s an ambush by an undiscovered society, hellbent on killing alien peoples for sport. Perhaps a novel virus wiping out the entire population of Youra and you with it in a matter of days?  No farfetched scenarios were off limits when Feyd allowed his mind to wander.
The foreign feeling of loss due to your absence has not only plagued him with anxiety, but allowed Feyd to slip into a state of abject melancholia. None of his old vices have come close to fulfilling him, let alone make him feel much of anything.  Watching his servants cower in fear or making foreign ambassadors quake in their seats wasn’t giving him the same gratification as it once had.  Even hearing the roar of the crowds in the arena didn't given him any satisfaction. Everything had felt unbearably pedestrian. The only thing that brought a smile to his face was the thought of having the other half of his bed full again and listening to your tranquil voice. With every passing moment, he’s yearned for the life you had built together on Giedi Prime to resume.
Your mornings together were simple and easy. They were a time when he could always experience a drop of serenity within the political quagmire he’d gotten himself into since assuming the title of Baron. He’d wake up with you already in his embrace, your head laid delicately on his chest. He'd listen to your soft breathing and savor the way your limbs would entangle with his. The image of you blinking your eyes open to look at him with the special glimmer of affection reserved just for him never failed to make his heart flutter. 
Overtime, Feyd noticed you had been taking very well to Harkonnen dresses, which you now wore more often than not. He had the best seamstresses on Giedi Prime make and tailor custom outfits for you, though he didn’t expect you to always wear them, knowing how important your heritage was for you.  Nevertheless, you continued to grab one of the black gowns from your shared closet for your daily tasks and tell him with a smile “I’m Baroness Harkonnen now.  Shouldn’t I dress the part?”
Before leaving your quarters each day, Feyd always took the opportunity to take your hand in his and bring you in front of the floor length mirror in your shared closet. With his hands around your waist, he would pepper gentle kisses from your cheeks down your neck, whispering in your ear “you are a vision today, my Baroness.” You'd always smile and blush bashfully in return, returning his kisses in kind. Moments like those when it was just the two of you had become one of his favorite parts of the day.
You made the meetings, filled with diplomats groveling to win his favor, bearable. How he loved to watch you as you sat on the grand Harkonnen throne beside him. You never failed to command the room with your head held high. Power and dignity seemed to drip off of your being and fill every room you entered. You were truly worthy of the title of Baroness, and with every passing day and every interaction, there was more and more for Feyd to admire about you.
In private, you took to training together, where he would bask in your shared might. With every blow he endured from you, all he could think about was that he, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, was the only person alive to witness you so animated with ferocity and passion from battle, as all others who have seen you this way have been slain and buried. Sparring sessions between the two of you almost always ended with you both on the floor, limbs entwined and chests heaving after one of you would get the best of the other and take the opportunity to pin the other to the floor. 
At the end of the day, you'd always assume your position on the balcony in a flowy, white nightgown. With a gentle gesture, you’d beckon him to accompany you while you observe your shared domain, watching the shuttles flying through the gaps in the dark architecture and the stark white floodlights passing over the cityscape.  He’d hold you close by your waist and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you start to shiver from the evening chill, at which point he’d tug at your waist to take you back to the bedroom to retire for the night. Every day, Feyd was falling deeper and deeper into you, and he’s loved every moment. 
Bringing himself upright, Feyd stretches his arms and stands up, walking over to the closet. Across from his sets of Harkonnen formalwear and battle gear, your gowns are neatly hung. Half of them are the sleek, black Harkonnen designs he had made for you. The other half are gorgeously vibrant Youran gowns. He sighs, imagining sharing one of your moments again in front of the mirror like always, but alas, you are not beside him. Once he’s dressed, he emerges from his quarters and is met with a nameless servant.
“Good morning, Baron,” the servant says, bowing deeply and trying not to give Feyd an excuse to kill him. “I am here to inform you that we have received a signal from the Baroness’s craft.  Her arrival is imminent.”
Hearing those words, Feyd turns on his heel toward the landing docks, dismissing the servant who heaves a sigh of relief because his head is thankfully still connected to the rest of his body. As Feyd walks the halls, his pace quickens, feeling the anticipation rise in his chest. People bow and salute him in the hallways, but he doesn’t pay them any attention. He’s too preoccupied with his thoughts of you; he can already smell the aroma of rainforest flowers you carry around with you. The thought that he’s so close to having you near again nearly drives him mad. 
When he arrives at the landing docks, the fleet of Harkonnen vessels is already touching down. As he hears the machinery’s loud whirring die, the ramps of all the crafts to meet the floor. Lines of Harkonnen soldiers file out first, each soldier with weapons in arms. The steady pulse of their synchronized footsteps echoes through the space with perfect adherence to Harkonnen military standards is satisfactory for Feyd. The commander in front barks orders, and the guards immediately step into formation, making an aisle that extends between Feyd and the craft closest to him. 
He is at a loss for words when he sees you walk down the ramp. You are undeniably gorgeous in Harkonnen clothes, but you look positively ethereal in the Youran gown and golden headdress that adorn your body today. Instead of shrouding yourself in the cloak you’ve worn in the past to hide your weaponry, you’re wearing a traditional dress reserved only for Youra’s utmost nobility. Layers of sheer, olive and cerulean fabric flare behind you to create your dress’s skirt out from under a ribbed bronze and mahogany corset.  Seeing how it’s cinched your waist and accented your silhouette, all Feyd wants to do is hold you and drag his fingers up and down the length of your figure.
Through the abundance of delicate golden chains that are symmetrically draped over your exposed shoulders and chest, Feyd can see how the corset and the off the shoulder neckline cradles your breasts in a way that makes him feel lightheaded. The entire skirt of the dress is decorated in dazzling embellishments and the characteristic Youran golden thread that Feyd has come to love on you. The fabric of the train seems to flow like water behind you as you walk.  
The high front hemline of the gown that ends at your upper thighs gives Feyd a good look at your legs, the lengths of which are delicately wrapped in the thin, tan ribbons from your sandals. The crosshatched pattern of the ribbons allows him to see just how beautifully your legs are sculpted from years of training and exploration. The sight makes his mouth water. He is truly breathless gazing upon you, his Baroness.
You return his affectionate gaze and call his name excitedly, reaching down and bunching up your skirt in your grasp before breaking into a run between the lines of Harkonnen guards. Your footsteps are the only noise reverberating throughout the area. Before he even realizes it, Feyd’s running for you, too. As you approach each other, he extends his arms out to you, and you leap into them, wrapping your legs around his waist. As he lifts you up into his arms, he spins you both around as you nuzzle yourself deeper into his hold.
Your grips on each other are desperate. Without a moment to waste, he cups your cheek with one hand as the other holds you tightly by the small of your back. A tear threatens to fall from his eyes as he considers saying that he hopes that you’ve missed him, but the look in your eyes already tells him the answer. This is truly happiness like he’s never experienced before. It washes over him when you finally bring your lips to meet his. His breath is warm against yours as he exhales into the kiss in satisfaction. He feels your hands come up to clutch the back of his head to deepen your kiss and growls hungrily, quickly losing himself in your embrace while attempting to resist the urge to devour you on the spot. His brow furrows when you finally break for air.
“Hello, my love,” you whisper softly, pressing your forehead against his, as if what you’re saying is a secret meant for only his ears. He grins at the pet name you’ve picked for him.  “How have things been at home?” Your words make Feyd pause. Were you calling Giedi Prime “home?” 
“Everything has been adequate,” Feyd says, kissing you again. “But I do prefer it when my Baroness is beside me.”
“I guess you’re in luck then,” you smile at his words. You rest your hands on his chest, feeling his prominent pectoral muscles underneath his shirt which makes him sigh in satisfaction. You swiftly squash the temptation to kiss him again as you meet his gaze because if you do, you’d never want to stop. Feyd sets you down, even though he’d gladly carry you all day wherever you want. 
“My father sends his regards. He’s very pleased with House Harkonnen. He also sends his condolences at your uncle’s passing,” you say, which makes Feyd scoff silently to himself. “I’ve also gathered all I need for the laboratory.  I hope I didn’t bring too much back with me. I hope it’s not a burden…” you trail off.
“You could never be a burden. We have plenty of servants. They can handle the labor,” Feyd assures as he turns to one of the closest guards. “Start unloading the Baroness’s things. You know where to take them. Don’t you dare damage any of it. There will be repercussions if anything is found broken.”
“Yes, My Lord,” the guard responds before beginning to bark orders to the others. One by one, the guards disappear into the vessel, and emerge moments later, carrying large wooden crates by the bronze colored handles attached to the sides of each. They all file out and disappear into the fortress, headed for your lab. 
“So,” Feyd says, turning back to you. “Home is Giedi Prime now? I wouldn’t have expected you to call anywhere but Youra home. It’s not that I’m unsatisfied that you’ve found comfort on Giedi Prime, but I was surprised to hear you say those words.”
You smile and glance down at the ground before looking back to him, responding. “Younger me would have agreed with you. Youra is my first home and will forever be such. However, my feelings have changed. Home is wherever you are,” you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. At your words, Feyd pulls you in again by the waist for another quick kiss, and he wonders what he did to deserve a wife like you as you both turn to follow your belongings. 
Weeks ago, you and Feyd had set aside the largest of Baron Vladimir’s personal recreation spaces to be converted to a laboratory for you on Giedi Prime. You both had celebrated the initiation of the transformation by gathering all the Baron’s belongings and smashing them to smithereens, which was quite cathartic for the both of you. In particular, you loved bashing Vladimir’s pipe and ripping his bathtubs apart piece by piece. The day of eradicating every trace of Vladimir, except for his portrait in the hallway, culminated in you both basking in the warmth of a glorious bonfire, fed by what remained of the Baron’s belongings. 
You both arrive at your laboratory. The Harkonnen workers have been very efficient installing the necessary infrastructure in the time you have been away. The room that was stripped to the bones the day you left for Youra is now a proper lab, outfitted with fireproof surfaces, chemical hoods, gas lines, and plenty of storage cabinets.  
“Wow, Feyd,” you say. “This is amazing. I can’t believe this got done in the time I was gone.”
“Only the best for you, my love,” he replies as more servants arrive, and you begin to instruct them how to unpack your belongings. Feyd stands back on the sidelines and watches you, seeing the sparkle in your eyes now that you’re able to bring part of your life from Youra to Giedi Prime. Many of the instruments and objects he sees being unpacked are unfamiliar to him, but you seem unphased, perhaps even comforted, by the diversity of items. He marvels at your proficiency with handling all of them. With the help of the servants, you quickly have all the crates unloaded and the items put away and organized. You dismiss all the workers promptly, so you and Feyd can be alone. Once the doors are closed, you let out a sigh of relief.
“Is the space to your liking?” Feyd asks, coming to your side and slipping his arm firmly around your waist.
“It’s perfect,” you reply, looking around with elation in your eyes. You reach into a drawer in front of you and take out a jar. Inside, he sees it’s full of the iridescent indigo scales of the fish you had shown him the night you were attacked on Youra. “I wanted to wait until I got back to Giedi Prime to do the extraction on the scales for your batch of the elixir. …Would you like to stay while it happens?” 
Feyd nods without hesitation. He knows that watching you work is something only the people closest to you ever get to see. “Of course, my love.  It would be my pleasure,” he says. You smile at him, delighted at his interest. You point to a little door in the corner and tell him to wait for you before disappearing into it. A few minutes later, you emerge having shed your gown and jewels for a tan lab coat. When you smooth your hands over the new coat, Feyd thinks to himself how put together you look. You seem even more at ease now that you’ve changed. In your arms, he sees another coat and two pairs of safety glasses. 
“To protect your clothes and eyes,” you say, walking over and handing him the other coat and one of the pairs of glasses.  Inside the coat, he sees “Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen” delicately stitched in with golden lettering.  As he puts it on, he realizes it’s been tailored to his measurements perfectly at your behest. His heart swells once again. Your foresight is obvious to him. Beside him, you take out a mortar and pestle and pour a few of the scales into the mortar. He hears the scales clatter like pebbles against one another as they fall. 
Over your shoulder, Feyd can finally get a closer look at the scales from the fish you had shown him. The scales are shaped like rounded trapezoids and glimmer even in the artificial indoor lighting. Through the striking coloration, he can see delicate silver ribs that flare out from the narrower end of the scales, making each scale look like a pocket of moonlight rays shining through an inky night sky.  Feyd thinks how it’s truly a wonder how nature produced such a creature that bears such beauty.
You grasp the pestle in your hand and start striking the scales with firm, downward motions. Upon impact, the scales fracture at the ribs. Little by little, the scales become smaller, and you change your technique, beginning to roll the pestle around the bottom and up the sides of the mortar. You reverse the direction of the circle every few times. Because of your expert hand, the scales are soon reduced to a fine powder in the bottom of the mortar.  The dust glistens beautifully as you pick up the mortar and tip it around in a rolling motion, observing the results of your grinding.
“It’s time to perform the extraction and then the purification. Hopefully the crystals will be well formed,” you say to him, taking the mortar over to the fume hood behind the two of you and flipping the on switch to the hood.  “Have you ever watched any of your scientists work before?”
Feyd shakes his head as he follows you, memories of his childhood passing through his mind. “My uncle always instructed me to remain in the arena and the training grounds growing up. The laboratories on Giedi Prime were never our places to be. Our scientists would always come and report to us rather than us going to them. It has always been that way. Everyone in House Harkonnen works for the Baron. Everything they do is in service to him. It is inappropriate by our standards for him to go to them.”
You nod at his words, reaching for the glass sash that separates you and Feyd from the compartment of the fume hood. “Unsurprisingly, it’s the opposite on Youra,” you say, putting the mortar with the powdered scales inside before lowering the sash again until it’s almost closed, leaving gap a couple inches tall for continued access. “Yes, all workers serve my father and me, but we are all colleagues, in a way. They are the workers and my father is the hub for all of the departments on Youra. Much of my father’s success is tied to them, so he would often visit our workers to acknowledge their efforts and dedication. He always wanted to see their work for himself, too. He’s always been the curious type. My father had me follow him to the laboratories as soon as I was old enough to understand safety protocol. I’m sure if it wasn’t for regulations, he’d have brought me into the labs in a baby sling.”
The image of young you in a laboratory, holding your father’s hand as Youran chemists show you both what they’re working on comes into Feyd’s mind.  Even though he didn’t know of you when you were children, he can imagine you then, much shorter with a rounder face but with the same bright eyes brimming with curiosity.  The idea makes his heart warm and a smile tugs at his lips.
“I’m sure those laboratory visits were most influential for you,” Feyd says. You nod in return as you put on a pair of gloves and reach under the sash to grab an amber bottle containing a clear liquid from the side of the hood.  
“Absolutely,” you reply as you transfer all the powdered scales into a glass Erlenmeyer flask and add enough of the liquid to cover the solids. You move the flask onto a raised plate in the hood and press a few buttons to begin the heating process.  “I loved watching them do their work. They knew so much about our world, but were still determined to know more.  The way they moved in the lab was like a dance. I desperately wanted to be a part of that, so I began working with them when I was fourteen…”
As Feyd listens to you talk about your past as you work, his admiration of you grows. Your determination and tenacity through failed experiments and stalled projects are astounding to him, and the fact you’ve been able to become a swordswoman on the side this is truly a marvel. Your skill and years of training are evident today, as your body seems to know this process by memory. This in front of him is the product of all those years of effort.
The liquid in the vessel begins to bubble gently. As the moments go by, the liquid takes on the iridescent nature of the scales and becomes a vibrant blue. Removing it from the heat, you strain the liquid through fine mesh into another container, removing all the powdered scales from the mixture.  Looking at the collected solids, Feyd can see the scales have lost their original coloration and turned a chalky off-white. You smile to yourself, knowing that the extraction was effective while you prepare a large volume of a different liquid, also clear and colorless, in a large beaker. 
“Are you ready for the recrystallization?” you ask him, grabbing a syringe and drawing up some of the extract into the barrel. You return to the beaker of liquid and gently tip it sideways with one hand while pointing the tip of the needle at the side of the beaker. Carefully, you begin to squeeze the syringe and the indigo liquid begins to drip out the needle’s tip and trickle down the side of the beaker. As the extract hits the surface of the clear liquid, deep purple crystals seem to flutter out from the point of impact into the liquid instantaneously. Feyds lips part in amazement, unable to tear his gaze away from the process
“How does it work?” he asks, watching as a batch of thin, needle-like crystals start to gather at the bottom of the beaker while the bulk liquid remains colorless. It’s as if all the color of the extract has been contained within the crystals. 
“I use the first liquid to remove the compound from the scales and make a concentrated extract. I then add the extract to a bulk solvent which our compound of interest is insoluble in. The compound forms crystals when the liquids meet because the second liquid is in great excess compared to the first,” you explain, drawing up more extract and adding it to the beaker in the same way. Once you’re out of extract, you squat down to bring your eye level to that of the beaker. “It’s perfect. I don’t think the crystallization has ever gone that well.” 
You’re absolutely beaming as you swirl the crystals suspended in the liquid, admiring how they twinkle in the light. He can’t deny that your excitement is contagious. You collect the crystals by filtering the mix through another filter and spread out the crystals on a metal sheet to allow them to dry before removing your safety glasses, and Feyd follows suit.
“This is the compound I was referring to that night at the Pools of Ashora,” you say to Feyd.  “If we dissolve the crystals in water and drink it, it allows people to retain their body’s water content and reduced the frequency at which people needed to drink water.”
“Fascinating…,” Feyd trails off, staring at the delicate crystals scattered across the surface inside the fume hood. 
“When I was on Youra, I tested the elixir myself,” you say. Hearing you say that you’ve done that, a bolt of fear goes to his heart at the thought of you just drinking a novel chemical. Feyd’s eyes quickly lock onto you, and his neck stiffens. His mind swirls with distress at the possibility of you getting hurt. You may look okay now, but was the elixir difficult for you to stomach? Did it hurt you in the moment?
Looking at him, you’re immediately in tune with his reaction, and you lift your hand up to rest on his arm to calm his nerves. At your touch, he immediately relaxes. “Don’t worry, Feyd. I am alright. There’s nothing to be worried about. We’ve done plenty of trials since I first introduced this fish to you. I assure you it’s safe. I’ve had all of my best scientists on this project, and I had the best doctors in Youra monitor my vitals for two days after the fact.” Feyd nods, knowing if anyone is competent enough to keep you safe, it's yourself and the Youran doctors and researchers. “We still don’t know the exact mechanism of the compound in the body, but we do know there aren’t significant negative side effects on people. Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” Feyd replies, taking the opportunity to bring his hand to your waist and pull you close enough that your lips are almost touching and you’re both staring into each other’s eyes.  “I will always put my faith in you and your work.”
“I’m glad to hear,” you reply, your breath fanning out across his face, which sends shivers down his spine.  “That means a lot, Feyd, we’ve been working hard the last few weeks for this.” Grinning at you, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tips your head up toward his, catching your lips in his.  You quickly take off your gloves and hold his cheeks in your palms, savoring the intimate moment. 
A knock at the door sounds through the room. Feyd grumbles in annoyance as the tension between you releases. You and Feyd look at each other before ending your embrace. You call out “Enter!” in the direction of the doors. A military advisor enters the lab in full uniform with his head low. He immediately drops to his knees in front of both of you to show his respect.
“Baron, Baroness,” he says. “I am deeply sorry for interrupting you both, but I bring critical news from Arrakis.”
“Very well,” Feyd says, straightening up and peering down at the man kneeling before him. “Out with it.”
“There has been an attack by the Fremen. They destroyed eighty percent of the most recent spice crop.” You can tell by the way the man shivers that he is afraid. Nobody ever wanted to be the one to break bad news to Feyd-Rautha. “Count Rabban attempted a counterattack.”
“‘Attempted?’ What happened?” Feyd growls, his eyes flashing in dissatisfaction. You catch Feyd’s hand in your palm as it flies in the direction of the knife he keeps on his person. You shake your head. You tell him there is no use in killing this man because it would be a waste with just a look.  
“Y-Yes, my Lord,” the man says, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. You can hear him beginning to hyperventilate despite his best attempts to steady his breath. “Rabban went after the Fremen, but the dust and debris from Rabban’s initial artillery attack made the visibility so poor on the battlefield that only Count Rabban and a few others survived. They were ambushed in the haze; it was a massacre with a casualty rate of seventy two percent and climbing.”
“Over half?!” you gasp, your own fists beginning to clench at Rabban’s blunder.
“Rabban says he saw the Fremen prophet, Muad'dib, on the battlefield before he fled. The Fremen… they are dedicated to him. They kill for him, Baron. Our spice operation is in jeopardy. We await your command.” 
Feyd stiffens, a vein threatening to pop on his temple. He sucks in air through his teeth, infuriated at Rabban’s continued incompetency. The advisor recoils at the noise, shuffling backward toward the door.
“You are dismissed,” you call to him with a huff.  A wave of relief washes over the man as he bows and thanks you before slipping out the door.
“Rabban is a damned fool!” Feyd shouts once you’re alone. “He has had every chance to rectify his mistakes on Arrakis, but he seems to leave his brain behind when he makes decisions and lets this Muad'dib win every time! And now I hear news of abandoning the battlefield at the sight of this prophet? He is a coward! An absolute imbecile! If something doesn’t change soon, the Emperor will take Arrakis from us!” 
You reach your arm out and rest it on his shoulder. In moments, you’ve quelled Feyd’s initial outburst until he’s only seething with fury instead of being on the verge of trashing the entire lab. “I think it’s time to relieve my brother of his duties,” Feyd says after he takes a deep breath. “We shall go to Arrakis to do it. I want to see the look on his face and the hope drain from his eyes when he knows he’s failed. I will take over the operation on Arrakis.  We will do what my brother was incapable of.”
“In that case…,” you say, preparing two glasses of water, adding a pinch of the crystals to each.  The water immediately turns a luminous indigo, and you hand Feyd one of the glasses, which he gladly takes.  You raise your glass in the air. “To victory and to House Harkonnen.”
“To victory and House Harkonnen,” he replies, connecting the rims of your glasses and drinking the entire glass in one go.  The elixir is salty and rich on his tongue as if he’s drinking the essence of the tropical ocean. As the elixir flows into him, he feels a warmth pulsate throughout his body.  He isn’t sure if this is truly the effects of the elixir or just a placebo, but Feyd feels powerful, like he could slaughter a thousand men and still have a hunger for more.  As he meets your gaze, you give him a knowing look. You feel the energy, too. You both shed your laboratory coats and leave the room to prepare for your journey to Arrakis. 
--
The preparations before and journey to Arrakis went without a hitch. You had opted to choose Harkonnen battle gear over your own, but you and Feyd still agreed on concealing your knives under a black Harkonnen dress cloak, still not eager to let anyone know of your true nature. Arriving in Arrakeen, you notice the striking architecture, made up of geometric slabs of tan stone layered to create a fortress to protect its inhabitants.  This time on Arrakis, Feyd doesn’t feel the heat like he used to. It’s as if his body is fighting back against the harsh environment on the desert planet. You feel it, too. You were initially concerned because you had only tested the elixir during the dry months on Youra, which paled in hostility in comparison to Arrakis, but seems the elixir’s protection is more than sufficient.
You and Feyd walk the halls of the fortress side by side, heading to the room where all of the Harkonnen strategists and military officials are. You see them gathered around a digital map projected by a computer in the middle of the room, which shows the locations of all the Harkonnen forces in the north of Arrakis.  Upon seeing their Baron and Baroness side by side, they all freeze and bow.
“Welcome to Arrakis, Baron, Baroness” one of them says. He opens his mouth to continue but Fed cuts him off. 
“Enough,” Feyd hisses at him. “I have orders for you. You are no longer to follow the word of Count Rabban. As of today, he is relieved of his duty as Planetary Governor of Arrakis. You will report directly to and receive orders only from me and your Baroness.”
The room of men immediately shout “Yes, My Lord!” in response. A smirk forms on Feyd's lips at their responsiveness, and he instructs them to hit the Fremen with old-fashioned artillery. As the orders are executed by the Harkonnen military, you watch the map intently as the targets on the map turn green, indicating the Fremen bases are hit successfully. All of the military advisors’ eyes widen in surprise at the genius of Feyd’s strategy as the reports of complete annihilation from the ground forces roll in. 
They all begin to applaud Feyd and as their chants fill the room, your heart fills with pride.  Feyd has finally proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was always meant to be the leader of House Harkonnen.  As the applause continues, you see Rabban appear in the doorway, a look of surprise disgust on his face. You notice he’s still wearing his nightclothes, and your eyes flash between him and Feyd as Rabban approaches Feyd, Rabban’s legs still stiff from sleep. 
“Leave us,” Feyd instructs the others in the room, who promptly file out. They keep their eyes on the floor, not daring to look at Rabban. They know people who end up alone in a room with Feyd after repeated blunders usually don’t exit the room outside of a body bag. 
“What are you doing here?” Rabban growls at Feyd.
“It’s early morning.  What are you doing here?” Feyd quips back.  Rabban lets out a frustrated huff.
“You can’t just waltz in here,” Rabban says through gritted teeth.  “And how can you bring that woman into the inner sanctum?”  
“How dare you refer to your Baroness like that!” Feyd roars, grabbing Rabban by his collar.  “If you have forgotten, dear Brother, I am Baron now.  I will do as I please and take my wife wherever I wish!” 
Feyd throws Rabban back and he falls on his back hard. In desperation, Rabban tries to scramble to his feet again, but as soon as he’s almost upright, he feels his knees buckle from under him as you kick the backside of his knees in. Rabban’s forehead collides with the stone floor with a visceral crack, and he feels his arm caught in your grip behind him. He groans as you push his arm to the verge of overextension. On his neck, Rabban feels the cool tip of a blade threatening to pierce his skin, which sends a chill down his spine, his head still spinning from impact.
“You should learn to respect your superiors,” you whisper to him as Feyd’s gaze is fixated on you.  The picture before him has a fire rising within him. His breath turns thick and heavy, seeing you over Rabban, your blade on his neck and your foot on his back with a fiendish smile on your lips.  “I would have expected more from my brother-in-law… You are a disgrace to House Harkonen,” you drawl, pressing your dagger’s tip into Rabban’s neck enough to draw blood. Dark crimson blood trickles down Rabban’s neck and he squirms. You remove your foot from his back and step forward to place your shoe by his face. You take the opportunity to kick his cheek in a little with the toe of your shoe before the heel of your combat boot hits the floor by Rabban’s face with a firm thunk. “Kiss my feet, and I may spare your life.”
Rabban quivers under your hold, his palms spread over the stone floor. He considers trying to escape. He could try to press his body up and avoid the blade on his neck and try to sweep your legs out from under you, but he quickly realizes that you are in control. Any movement like that would end with your knife in his chest, back, or neck. Despite his position being compromised, he hesitates to kiss your foot  How could he, Glossu Rabban, kiss a woman’s shoe in submission?
“You heard her, Brother,” Feyd hisses, stepping toward you both as he basks in his brother’s terror.  Feyd stops in front of his brother and squats down to look at him. “Kiss her feet.  Now.” 
After a moment, Rabban quivers and presses his lips against the leather of your shoes. As he does, you see how miserable and pathetic this man below you is. It's truly a shock that this oaf is the brother of your Feyd, who is confident, domineering, and skillful in every way.  
“You made a good decision obeying, Rabban,” you say, releasing the blade on his neck. “I would have wasted a perfectly sharpened knife slitting your throat if you hadn’t cooperated.” You step back from him as he clambers into an upright position. His hand flies to his neck, feeling the blood trickle down his neck and seep into his nightshirt. 
“You are hereby relieved of your duties as Planetary Governor of Arrakis,” Feyd grins at the pitiful sight before him. “You will return to your quarters in the meantime and wait for future instruction.”
Rabban leaves in defeat. Once the doors shut behind him, you and Feyd smirk at each other, and Feyd rushes to you giving you a tender kiss.  “I love you, Baroness,” he murmurs, completely infatuated with you.  
--
A few days later, you stare up into the atmosphere of Arrakis. The Emperor’s craft has just entered the atmosphere. You and Feyd share incredulous looks and you immediately make your way to where the emperor will be docking.  
“What could the emperor want?” you ask Feyd as you walk..  “We restored spice production. It’s never been more efficient.”
Feyd shakes his head, deep in thought.  “I do not know, my love.”  
“I don’t like this, Feyd.” you whisper to him, trying not to let anyone else hear and Feyd nods in return.  “What could have summoned the emperor to Arrakis?”
“We shall see,” he replies. Rabban arrives and bows to you both, which makes you frown. Rabban hasn’t been involved in House Harkonnen’s operations since he was removed. Nevertheless, he still proceeds into the throne room before Feyd or you can dismiss him.   
Inside the throne room, the emperor is perched on a large throne up a large flight of stairs with his daughter and a Bene Gesserit standing by him.  Your eyes narrow seeing the witch’s presence, knowing they have tricks they are not afraid of using to manipulate the great houses. You, Feyd, and Rabban kneel in front of them, bowing your heads.  Before any of you speak, the emperor’s voice rings out. 
“I am sure you are curious as to why I have come to Arrakis,” he begins.  “What do you know of the prophet Muad'dib?”  Rabban speaks up first, saying that Muad'dib is a madman.
“Mad?!” the emperor says.
“All Fremen are mad!” Rabban counters, and the Emperor’s fist clenches around the arm of his throne. You and Feyd shoot daggers at Rabban, and he closes his mouth immediately, putting his head down again which casts his face in shadow.
“We apologize for my brother speaking out of turn,” Feyd says to the Emperor. “Rabban has had no part in the latest work of House Harkonnen. He is not a reliable source of information.  We know Muad'dib is a figure of the Fremen, and they follow his command.”
“Yes,” you say. “He organizes their forces, and they have been effective in battle against many of our forces by hiding in the sands and staging ambushes.  They’ve been effective at destroying our spice harvesters in the past, but we’ve been able to successfully retaliate.” The Bene Gesserit flashes some hand signs at the emperor. She must be able to tell if people are lying or not. 
“What of the prophet’s whereabouts?” the Emperor asks, his voice darkening with frustration at your lack of knowledge.  The emperor’s suggested scorn directed at House Harkonnen is sour on your tongue, and you grit your teeth.  
“We control the north of Arrakis and spice production, Emperor,” you reply, keeping yourself collected.  “We believe Muad'dib has fled to the south to hide in the storms after my husband’s last military tactic was successful in neutralizing their northern bases.” 
As you utter those words, you feel a tremendous boom propagate through the air, causing the building to shudder. Everyone in the room looks up. Some of the diplomats that have accompanied the emperor swallow thickly. You and Feyd exchange knowing glances. Something isn’t right. The Sardaukar forces, who have come to protect the emperor, raise their weapons and get into formation with one line in front of the emperor, who has abandoned the throne in favor of shelter. 
The other line of Sardaukar forms a line opposite the entrance way, as more explosions can be heard beyond the walls. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban slip away, ever the coward. You feel Feyd’s touch on your arm as he beckons you to position yourself behind the defenses with the other diplomats. From your shared position, you both wait and listen intently. The others in the room are paralyzed in a cold sweat, but you and Feyd are silently watching, waiting, and listening, already gathering information on the situation to calculate your next move.
Dust fills the room as another bang resonates throughout the room and the barrier breaks down. The frontline of the Sardaukar advance, weapons at the ready. As they disappear into the dust, you know they aren’t coming back. The room is almost entirely quiet, but through the haze you hear the barely audible but familiar sound of daggers piercing armor, slitting throats, and tearing flesh. The remaining Sardaukar dig their heels in as a figure emerges through the orange debris, wrapped in tan fabrics caked in others’ blood. His face is concealed by a scarf, and the only flesh of his you see are his eyes, blue from spice. He is accompanied by an army. Judging by the amount of noise they made on their arrival, you and Feyd know there are probably hundreds of them. Fighting your way out is not an option. This must be the prophet Muad'dib.
Muad'dib looks around with his blade drawn, seemingly searching for someone as he enters the room.  You see him and Feyd make eye contact. Feyd’s eyes narrow at him in curiosity. When Muad'dib does not find who he is looking for, he turns the crowd of people behind the Sardaukar guards. Most of the diplomats instinctively take a step back. He makes eye contact with the emperor before turning to his own forces and hissing something in a foreign tongue which you presume to be Chakobsa, Fremen language. He exits the room back into the crowd of Fremen who chant for him, waving their war banners.  You see they bear the hawk insignias of House Atreides. The son of Duke Leto Atreides is alive. 
The Fremen advance, easily slaying the last remaining Sardaukar. Many of the diplomats shudder and jump in surprise as the Fremen plunge their daggers into the Sardaukar warriors, who are powerless to stop them. Once they are all dead and their blood is spread across the floor in crimson red pools, the Fremen start grabbing the rest of you by your arms, and you are all dragged away one by one. You are being taken prisoner. You look to Feyd, who gives you a subtle nod as if to say “go along with it,” and you do.
--
You’ve laid low all in the confinement the Fremen have kept you in all night, not eager to give any of them a reason to kill you. Silently, you’ve been analyzing your situation, trying to figure out a way to achieve an optimal outcome, which you feel is slipping through your fingers. Since you have been taken prisoner, you can only presume that the rest of the Sardaukar and the Harkonnen army have been slaughtered and their bodies burned before daybreak. You and Feyd are likely the last living Harkonnens on Arrakis.  
After sunrise, you are called upon by a faceless Fremen, who orders all of the prisoners to follow. You are reunited with Feyd, who takes your hand, careful not to let the Fremen see this gesture of affection as to not allow them any leverage. His touch automatically makes you as at ease you can be, given that you are both captives without allies. 
Arriving in a room with the other prisoners, you see the surviving Fremen mingling and congratulating one another. The man from before stands in the clearing of the room without his face covering, his black wavy hair framing his face. Feyd turns to you and mouths “Atreides.” You nod in understanding, and watch as Paul Atreides addresses the Emperor, challenging him for the throne. Looking out the window, you see warships in the distant sky.  The other great houses have arrived and Paul Atreides threatens to destroy all the spice fields if the houses intervene. 
“Stand yourself or choose your champion,” he orders the Emperor, who turns to Feyd.  
“I select Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” the emperor declares. “Get him a blade.” You inhale sharply, knowing this means Feyd must fight to the death against a man who has already slain many in battle and emerged victorious from the bloodbath of the previous night. You trust Feyd’s skill, but you know not to underestimate Paul Atreides. Feyd’s eyes flicker toward you. He knows what you’re thinking and gives you a slight nod as if to promise he will fight his hardest, not for the emperor, but for you. He is presented with a blade by one of the members of the emperor’s council. To your surprise, Feyd pushes it away and turns to you. Coming to stand in front of you, he gestures downward toward your legs, where your daggers are still strapped to your thighs out of sight.
“Feyd, are you sure?” you say to him, your voice small. 
“I want to use your blade. Please let me fight for you,” Feyd whispers. You nod and reach down to fulfill his request, drawing one of your Youran weapons from your garters. When you hand it to him, Feyd feels the familiar heft of your dagger in his hand, which makes him grin. Just as he remembers, it’s expertly balanced and perfectly crafted, its pointed tip shining in the low orange light of the room. He smiles, recalling the night you handed him the same blade, the first time he saw your true nature. He twirls the knife in his grip with a flourish of his wrist as he stands opposite Paul Atreides. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you, cousin,” Paul says.
“Cousin…” Feyd says, continuing to evaluate Paul for his weaknesses. “You wouldn’t be the first family member I’ve killed.”
His words don’t phase you. You’re well aware of Feyd’s family history. You clasp your hands in each other in front of your chest, willing Feyd to be the victor. Paul Atreides straightens himself and salutes Feyd. “May thy knife chip and shatter,” Paul says with a gruff tone, lowering himself into a battle stance and pointing his knife at Feyd. Feyd smirks, raising your weapon. The sight of it in his hand is gratifying for Feyd. Despite standing alone against Paul, it’s as if you are both in this fight together with him wielding your weapon. 
“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd returns and within moments, they're after each other, having an all out brawl in the middle of the room. They each swipe at each other with reaction times like lightning.  The sounds of blades crashing against one another, the low smacks of their bodies colliding, and their grunts of exertion fill the room. You have to admit, Paul Atreides is an impressive fighter. He’s quick on his feet and swiftly dodges and counters many of Feyd’s attacks, but it is obvious that Feyd is the one with strength on his side. The only way for Atreides to win is if he is able to find a way to use that strength against Feyd.
You’re barely breathing at this point. Your facade of stoicism threatens to crumble when you see Paul Atreides’ forehead connect firmly with your husband’s nose. To your surprise, you don’t see any blood on Feyd’s face. Paul Atreides’ head is thrown back after almost bouncing off of Feyd’s nose. Paul’s head seems to be spinning as he stumbles backward on uneven footing.  Feyd recognizes Paul’s debilitated state is fleeting, and takes advantage of the moment, striking Paul again. The tangle of limbs is intense, but in the blink of an eye, you see Feyd disarm Paul, taking Paul’s knife for his own.  
As they break away from one another, Paul Atreides is heaving, struggling to breathe as the leather bound hilt of your dagger protrudes from his abdomen. He’s wheezing as his own blood seeps into his battle gear. His allies gaze upon the sight in shock, some wincing in second-hand pain.
Feyd approaches him promptly, and grabs Paul by the scruff of his neck, raising Paul’s own knife at him. Paul Atreides uses his own gloved hand to grab the blade, trying to push it away, but Feyd leans in, forcing the blade to slip further into Paul’s grip, cutting the flesh of Paul’s hand open with a sickening noise, the tip of the knife getting closer to piercing Paul’s neck.
The next moment, you feel like screaming. The dagger, once poised to slice open Paul Atreides’ neck, is no longer in the air visible to you. Paul Atreides has used his grip on Feyd’s blade to redirect the tip toward the stomach of your husband. Your hands fly to your mouth, tears threatening to spill.  The force Feyd puts behind his blade at that proximity is fatal. 
The memories of meeting Feyd on Youra, fighting by his side against Ozran, plotting into the early hours to kill his despicable uncle, your wedding ceremony in front of House Harkonnen, and the moments of tenderness and affection he’s given you in private flash through your mind. Your stomach writhes, and your heart shrivels into itself, and your mind begins to confront the idea that you now must mourn the life you and Feyd had assembled. Another thought flashes through your mind. You’ll likely be killed after this with the rest of the prisoners in this room, and die alone without your husband, lightyears away from your people on Youra and Giedi Prime. You’ve failed.
Through your tears, you stare at the scene as the air and the people surrounding you are completely still.  However, something gives you pause. You hear something hit the floor look down to the area under Feyd and Paul’s feet. You spy fragments of metal, broken into uneven shards, scattered across the floor. However, there is no blood to be seen.  Your eyes shoot to Feyd, who is also looking down to where they both hold the hilt of the broken knife. 
Without a second to spare, Feyd’s hand flies to your knife in Paul’s side, ripping it out of him. Paul cries out in agony, the removal of the knife causing a blood curdling squelch of skin and muscle ripping. The next moment, Feyd slits Paul Atreides’ throat with a grand swing of his arm, sending blood splatter fanning across the floor. The pregnant woman seated in the wooden throne bearing the Atreides crest lets out a high pitched shriek, and she begins to wail, seeing the light from her son’s eyes fade as his body crumples to the floor. A Fremen woman across from you lets out a shaky breath, her lip quivering and tears pool near her bright blue eyes as Paul Atreides’ fresh blood collects in a puddle on the stone floor under the gaping hole in his neck.
Feyd turns back to you, bloody blade in hand and lets out a deep exhale, allowing the tension in his own chest to dissipate. He had thought he was dead, too, but no. He is alive. He is victorious, and he gets to look into your eyes again, knowing that he has done his job for you.
Kneeling, Feyd presents the emperor with the soiled blade. The emperor smiles and pronounces Paul Atreides, the prophet Muad'dib, to be dead and Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen as the victor. In defeat, the ally of Paul, identified as Gurney Halleck, relays a message to the great houses of the outcome of the fight.  The emperor’s reign shall continue, and your husband is alive. You push your way past the others in the crowd and throw yourself at Feyd, who cradles you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair, whispering to you “Please don’t shed any more tears, my love. I am still here… I wouldn’t leave you that easily.”
“I thought I lost you,” you choke out and Feyd shakes his head, using his thumb to wipe away the tear stains on your cheeks. 
“You haven’t and you won’t,” he replies, his hands holding your body steady. “Let’s go home.”
Holding your knees to your chest, you sit in a private chamber on the Emperor’s vessel as it leaves the atmosphere of Arrakis to take you and Feyd back to Giedi Prime, which was the least the emperor could do given that Feyd nearly died for him. One of Feyd’s hands rests on your waist, holding you firmly in his grip while the other rubs gentle circles on your shoulder with his thumb.  Feyd watches as your eyes dart side to side, which happens when you’re deep in though. 
“What is on your mind, my love?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.  
“I’m thinking about your battle with Paul Atreides,” you reply. “The knife broke when he tried to turn the tables on you, didn’t it?” Feyd nods, bringing his hand down to the spot on his abdomen where the knife was. “May I see where it was?” you ask and Feyd obliges, creating a small bit of distance between the two of you so that you can get a good look at his torso.  
You bring your hand to where Feyd’s armor has been sliced open by the blade. Bringing the other hand to his body, you gently spread the layers of fabric and leather apart to look through the hole. Underneath, you see Feyd’s familiar pale skin and his chiseled abdominal muscles that you’ve always loved to drag your fingers across. His skin appears to be absolutely pristine without a single nick or bruise in sight. You bring your head closer to get a better look before saying, “There isn’t evidence of any damage to your skin, Feyd. Your body is like the battle never happened. There isn’t a trace of impact.” As soon as you utter the last word in the sentence, you freeze and your lips part ever so lightly as your mind races to connect the dots. He knows that look on you, and he sees the gears turning in your mind. 
“Impact…,” you mumble to yourself. Your eyes shoot up to Feyd’s  “During the battle there was a moment when Paul Atreides’ head collided with your nose.” Your hand flies to his cheek to steady his head. You examine his nose, using your hand to tilt his head side to side. Everything about his face is unchanged, which shouldn’t be the case, especially after a fight like that and the headbutt he endured from Paul. You tip his head back. Again, there is no blood or breakage. 
Your mind begins to race as you return your hands to your husband’s torso. Your hands fumble as you attempt to remove the layers of armor in between you and Feyd’s skin. Feyd realizes what you’re doing and soon enough he’s shirtless in front of you. You extend your hand out and drag your hand over his stomach. You press your fingers firmly down onto his abdominal region and upper body repeatedly, changing the area you’re putting pressure on each time. He feels solid under your touch and not in the way you’re used to. Feyd has always been bulky and muscular, hardened from years of training, but something about this is different. It’s like his body has the durability of an alloy the researchers on Youra could only dream of engineering, but he’s still flesh and blood. Bring your fingers to your own stomach, pressing your fingers against your own front, and you gasp. “That’s it!” you exclaim.
“What is it?” he asks, knowing you are on the edge of an epiphany. 
“It’s the elixir!” you gasp, standing up and holding your head in disbelief  “It saved your life!”
 “I thought it was only to help the body retain water,” Feyd says as you get up and begin circling the room.
“Don’t you remember? That’s the end result of the elixir, but we were still unsure of the mechanism by which that happens!” you exclaim. “Remember the night I showed you the fish? I said that the fish sheds its scales at the beginning of the wet season. What I didn’t tell you is that the wet season is the only time of year we can get the scales off the fish because they fall off naturally. Our scientists have tried to get the scales before the transition of the seasons, but they've always been unable to pry the scales off or kill them because it was impossible to slice open the fish. No matter how much we sharpened the knives, we couldn’t cut them open!”
“That’s how the fish retain water in the dry season. The fish develop these scales with this compound that transforms their own bodies into a shield from the elements, so that water can’t escape. I’ve always wondered how a fish would be able to survive the whole dry season on a dried up lake bed.  This compound is why the fish species hasn’t gone extinct! When they’re sitting in their dried up ponds, no predators can eat them because their bodies are too tough to pierce,” you surmise, delight filling your complexion. “By drinking that compound, the same thing has happened to our bodies! You were able to survive the battle because your skin became this impenetrable barrier that lets you keep your water that just so happens to be impervious to outside attacks as well! That’s also why your nose didn’t break and why Paul Atreides was so disoriented after he struck you with his head. It was as if he rammed his head into a steel wall.  Researchers on Youra didn't catch this effect in the clinical trials because we don’t just go stabbing all of our test subjects with knives or subjecting them to blunt force trauma, especially not for a study about water retention!”
Feyd hardly believes what he’s hearing, but he knows it's true. Everything you’re saying makes perfect sense.  Memories from the battle flash in his mind.  He remembers his arm is suddenly bending toward himself, feeling the rough surface of the broken blade scrape against his abdomen, but the pain he had been trained to resist since childhood never hitting his senses. He brings himself to his feet and pulls you into his arms, squeezing you as tight as he can muster. “You are phenomenal, my dear,  I can’t believe you figured that out,” he murmurs to you. “Thank you.  I owe you my life.”
He lowers his lips to yours, kissing you like he’s never done before. You both cling to one another, relieved you are both alive and safe. Feyd holds the back of your head and runs his fingers through your locks tenderly, thinking about how far you both have come in this short amount of time. Mere months ago, you were a stranger he had the obligation to meet and marry. He knew he would have to enter a loveless relationship with you in the name of alliances. He tried to convince himself you were a woman he wanted to make a plaything out of.  Before, he was intent on manipulating, breaking, and exploiting you for his own amusement. Those ideas feel so foreign to Feyd now as he revels in your affections and caresses your cheek. 
Looking down at you, he sees you for what you are. You are the most beautiful being to ever exist.  Nothing past or present will ever compare to you, and it brings tears to his eyes, knowing you are his wife and he is your husband. You are the culmination of all House Ronen and House Harkonnen have worked for, a true representation of the union of your two houses, and the pinnacle of all Feyd has come to hold dear. You are where brain meets brawn, where tradition meets modernity, and the pride and joy of Feyd’s life. You are simply everything. 
-- 
Thanks for reading!  I can’t believe the series is over (but I'm also considering writing an epilogue, but I have some requests coming down the pipeline, so we'll see about that. lmk if that's something you might be interested in...). Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed Knives Dance! :)
Also is it obvious I study chemistry yet?
Taglist:
@austinbutlerslovers @rougegenshin @itshype@woodland-mist @tian-monique @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @allthingsimagines @meetmeatyourworst @nyaaaaa008 @caroline334 @alana4610 @targaryen-madness
Tags that aren't working for some reason??? @roguegenshin @miaraises
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bloodreddemons · 3 months
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Hazbin Hotel Episode 5-6 Hot Takes! ~
Lucifer doesn't really seem like a necessarily "good" dad or "bad" dad. He's definitely not the greatest at all but it really does suck that Charlie was pretty much isolated from him. Not completely his fault I'm sure.
I know it's obvious at this point that Lucifer & Alastor don't like each other...but you can definitely tell Alastor HATES him. His face was just stuck on stink the entire time.
To follow that up, I wonder why Alastor doesn't like Lucifer so much. Maybe it has to do with Lilith or Eve?
I like Lucifer's personality despite being the literal Devil he's actually very goofy. I don't think this was even a hot take. Lol.
Alastor saying fuck is the funniest thing in this show so far. It was actually gold. Bless him.
I hate that there was actual discourse surrounding episode 5 regarding Charlastor, and that people who hate the ship took the opportunity to either be pissed about their interactions, or celebrate that the ship is dead.
Hell's Greatest Dad was a nice song I really enjoyed it. Alastor and Lucifer sounded great.
A lot of people have already said this, but I think it's pretty obvious that Alastor was only trying to piss Lucifer off with the daughter comments. I don't think he actually sees him & Charlie as family.
Saying that Charlie can almost call Alastor Daddy was jaw dropping lol. I don't get how the ship is dead. It's definitely revived.
I fucking hate Mimzy. She's just an awful friend. She's literally that fake friend that only hits you up when you need something. I don't get how Alastor has been (hazbin) friends with her for so long. Christ.
I would've just thrown Mimzy to the Lone Sharks.
I wonder who "owns" Alastor? Most likely Lilith, that's what everybody has said. It could also possibly be Eve tho. He's definitely been working with someone.
Alastor's monster eldritch form kinda looks how a lot of us expected.
I don't get how Charlie is going to tell Lucifer, the first fallen angel EVER, and God's actual former favorite, what Heaven would say or think. He's already been there before. He knows how they work.
"More than Anything" was actually a pretty sweet song. It kinda hit close to home. Lucifer really sounded like the Angel he is.
Cherri & Sir Pentious are actually really cute. I kinda saw that one coming. Idk how they'd fuck tho. Ewwww.
Something is weird about Charlie not being on that list when they got to Heaven. Some people have speculated that she's in the wrong place. Hmmmm.
I don't really care for Sera or Emily. Idk I just don't. Sorry y'all.
"Welcome To Heaven" was such a weird gay ass song. 🤣 Why was that white ass twink priest practically moaning lmao...but the song was giving some type of backstreet boys or NSYNC.
I didn't think Lute or any of the exterminators actually had faces. That was a shock.
Even though it was already obvious to so many I was still gagged when the Vaggie Angel theory was finally confirmed. I love the way she met Charlie.
Not a hot take but I fucking hate Lute & Adam for doing Vaggie like that. She definitely didn't deserve it. All she did was spare one fucking child. They're evil.
The blackmailing Vaggie thing was very anticlimactic and dumb as fuck especially since they made Vaggie avoid being questioned. It would've been more interesting if Vaggie did what Adam said and spoke against Charlie at the meeting.
I've come to realize that Heaven is just shit and nobody knows what they're doing. The fact that they have a piece of shit like Adam up there and he himself doesn't know why he's there in the first place is very telling.
I don't think Cherri is a bad friend at all, but it was very off putting for her to constantly peer pressure Angel Dust when he's been trying to have a good streak. I get that she's a party animal and don't give a fuck but she could at least be mindful of her friend that's trying to stop their bad habits.
Angel being protective of Nifty when she was drunk was so cute. I'm happy he saved her from Val even if she didn't need it.
"You didn't know" was meh. It had some good parts I liked the overlapping of "Hell Is Forever" but thats really it.
I feel like Charlie is going to forgive Vaggie pretty quickly. I don't think this dramatic revelation of her past is going to cause that big of a rift in their relationship at all, especially with how quick they made up in episode 3.
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fieldofdaisiies · 8 months
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I've Got You
ship: Sihtric Kjartansson x female!Reader type: angst/fluff word count: 2k warnings: talks of violence and wounds summary: I've become obsessed with TLK again and maybe also with Sihtric; so here a little fic about you and Sihtric riding together on a horse back after he saved you
~all rights reserved~
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"Come on," Sihtric says to you, pointing at the large, dark horse beside him. It looks majestic and at the same time absolutely terrifying — you have never been on a horse in your whole life and– 
"Come on, we need to leave. Now." There is urgency in his uttering, yet his gaze remains empathetic.
The convent where you have spent your entire life in was suddenly attacked. They mercilessly took down the guards, hurt you and your sisters, and as you tried to flee, one of the brutes followed after you. Despite your attempts to escape, his blade managed to slice into your calf, leaving a deep gash there. Unbeknownst to you, help has arrived outside, slaying the attackers. 
And out of nowhere, a man appeared in the corridor you tried to escape him, almost like a heroic figure emerging from the turmoil of the battle. With skill that was beyond you, he killed the attacker with his sword, ending his life right before your eyes. 
With remarkable ease, the man who revealed himself as Sihtric then swept you up in his strong arms, carrying you over his shoulder outside into safety.
Once joined by other men, and also some of your covent sisters he placed you on the ground next to a large horse and this is where you find yourself now, staring at him with eyes and your mouth wide open.
Your heart is beating so incredibly fast, hammering against your ribcage. There is so much pain in your system, so much panic, and fear, your whole body is shaking with the terror of what just happened. 
You suck in a sharp breath, then another, your head feeling dizzy as tears start to cloud your vision. 
"I…I can't…ride," you stammer, a whirlwind of emotions brewing in your mind. Your feel how your fingers tremble, how wobbly your knees are. The ground beneath you is covered in frost, crunching when you reposition your feet.  
Something like sympathy passes over Sihtric's face and he reaches out and gently grabs your arm, his touch surprisingly tender. "Then we are riding together."
The words struck you immediately — riding with him, with him on the back of the horse! 
You are a good Christian woman, you have never been so close to a man. It scares you, but the emotions are not stronger than the panic inside of you, and the urge to leave this place. You need to get away, fast. You know what you witnessed will haunt you forever, but staying here for longer won't make it any better. You need to get away from here. 
One after the other your sisters are lifted onto horses as well, always riding with one of Sihtric's companions. A few of them are guided towards a very small carriage, your gaze following them until they disappear. 
A gentle breeze starts to blow, gradually cooling the air around you and you find yourself shivering, both out of fear and the cold. 
"Ride with me?" you hear the man next to you ask, almost like he is waiting for your consent. And God in heaven above, he truly is. 
"Yes…" you say in a voice barely above a whisper, seeing tendrils of breath in front of your face. 
Without hesitation and with strength that is beyond you, he lifts you off the ground, gently, and onto the back of the majestic, dark horse, onto the fur placed their. Your legs swiftly wrap around its strong body as you clutch the pommel tightly, a feeling of fear gnawing at your gut. 
You're so high up, perched on this powerful creature. Your rob shifts upwards, revealing the pale skin of your legs and another shudder courses through you. If he notices, he does not let show, his gaze trained only on the horse, his jaw tense. 
Sihtric wastes no time in mounting the horse behind you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. Uncertain of how to react, you remain frozen as he edges closer, gently pushing his chest, nothing but solid muscles beneath his leather armour, against your back. You feel how your hips are enclosed by his strong thighs, capturing you. 
A shiver runs through you as you make contact with him – it's a sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before.
A breath whooshes out of you when you urge yourself to relax your body. You can't escape the closeness to him up here, so you might as well give into it before you make your both fall off the horse. 
"Let's go!" one man commands. He looks like the leader of the group, but you don't know for sure. Sihtric behind you shouts his answer. His warm breath tickles your neck, causing the hairs on your body to stand on end. 
Your hands tremble as he wraps one arm around your waist for support and takes the reins with the other hand. Why did you let him touch you so intimately? What's come over you? This is not like you. 
The wind grows stronger, now flakes of snow starting to fall, getting caught in your hair. It is growing colder, and the horse finally starts to move. It is bumpy, and despite the strong arm around you, you fear you might fall. 
You shift slightly, trying to find a more secure position, but this elicits an unexpected groan from the man behind you. 
"Don't do that," he grumbles behind you before urging the horse to move a little faster, albeit at a slower pace than the others. 
You are left confused, your body all of a sudden tense again and you don't move at all. Soon, you fall in line with others, their horses moving gracefully in sync with yours, all trotting at the same pace. The rhythmic beat of hooves hitting the ground creates a melody around you that slowly soothes the panic inside of you. Yet, your breathing is shaky and ragged, suddenly the memories of what you saw flooding your mind again — you see it all, the blood, the pain, the violence. 
Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes close and you try to level your breathing. Small snow flakes land on your face and get caught in your hair. You blow out a long breath, heart beating so unsteadily in your chest. Biting down on your lower lip, you try to direct your thoughts to more positive things, thinking about happy times in the covent. 
Sihtric watches you from behind, your figure so fragile in his strong arms. It almost feels like you could break any second, and he knows that you were close to doing so back at the convent. 
His mission is to protect you now, forever, it seems like it is his destiny. There is something about you, something that brings out an enormous sense of protectiveness. He has seen the flame of determination vanish when you first made eye-contact in that corridor. 
Sihtric looks at you for a moment longer, revelling in the warmth and the feel of your body against his. 
You, other than he himself, even smell nice, like chamomile and parchment. From time to time he can feel you shudder, the little clothing, the robe you are wearing, not shielding you from the cold of the winter. He wishes he would have given you his coat earlier, but right now it is too late and he can only provide you warmth with his body. 
Once you arrive and once the wound on your calf is looked over and taken care of, he will see that you are provided with a coat and fur to keep you warm. 
Another shudder courses through you, your body trembling in his hold. 
"I've got you," he assures you, his voice suddenly so very soft and calm, and you offer a hesitant nod. 
The horse carries you through the landscape at a not too fast pace, allowing you to take in the surroundings — snow covered landscape, looming mountains, and weathered trees. You have never been out here. 
"You are safe now." You feel his hand move from your waist to your hip, no longer gripping you so tightly.
"And you don't ever need to fear again." It is another young man whose voice you suddenly hear and your head whips to the side. He is wearing a soft smile, one of your sister's is seated behind him on the horse, both her arms wrapped around his torso. "None of you needs to fear, you are safe now." 
You find yourself nodding at him, his kindness warming your chest a little bit. 
"Osferth," he whispers and you tell him your own name in a silent voice. "Y/N."
With the tilt of his head, and an empathetic smile on his lips, he urges his horse to move faster, past you. Your eyes stay on your covent sister and the man for a moment longer, until you look back at the head of the horse you sit atop. 
The landscape starts to darken in the distance and you find yourself wondering if you will stop soon, and build up so tents where you can sleep in. But then you actually don't know if they even have tents with them. You don't know where they normally sleep. But the one thing you know is that you will never sleep in your bed ever again. And that unsettles you — you will never have the comfort of your once safe space again. It will never be the same again, you will never have your old life again. 
It is almost like he can feel his distress, leaning in the slightest bit closer. 
"Would you like to go faster as well?" Sihtric inquires, his grip on your hip tightening slightly. 
You nod and he signals the horse to pick up the pace, and it obeys, galloping across the snow-covered land with newfound speed. 
In order to keep you safe, he pulls you even closer, and the sensation is exhilarating. There is no space between your bodies, and for a moment you think you can feel his heart beat through his skin and leathery armour. 
You've always been afraid of riding, but right now, you're completely lost in the moment—galloping across the land, drawing closer to the edge of the forest. You feel free, alive, all of a sudden as the cool wind whips across your face, through your hair and feels your lungs. 
And then— 
Frustration surges through you as you abruptly come to a halt.
Everyone has stopped, slowly climbing of their horses. It almost seems like this all works without any conversation passing between them. 
Without hesitation, Sihtric shifts behind you, letting go off your waist and also dismounts his horse. 
You watch, eyes wide open and wary, how people start to hurdle around, gathering and collecting things. Everyone is tasked with something, many collecting firewood, some already starting to build up tents. You don't even know where to look, there is so much happening. 
"Y/N?"
Slowly you turn your head to the sound. Your name from his lips is like the most beautiful song you've ever heard, it brushes your skin, your terribly cold and pebbled skin, like a feather. 
Sihtric extends his hand for you to follow suit. "Let me help you dismount the horse."
He watches you closely as you reach for his hand, trembling, cold fingers curling around his. 
You don't know how to dismount the horse, still wearing the long robes. You hesitantly, and with great difficulty pull your leg over the back of the horse, and suddenly—
You lose your balance and start to slide and eventually fall, but before you can hit the ground, he swiftly wraps his arm around your waist, catching you, clasping you tightly to his body. "I got you," he once again says, carefully placing you on the ground, allowing you to regain your footing. You take a deep breath and look up at him, offering a mumbled thank you. Your eyes lock. 
"Always," he replies with a sincere look in his eyes, and a smile tugs at your lips. You want him to see how grateful you are what he is doing for you, but you can't find the right words. 
"I will see that someone looks over your wound, then we will find you warm clothing and a place you can sleep tonight." He steps away, extends his arm to show you the way to…
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py-dreamer · 2 months
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So... I know I'm late...
But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out
I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.
But anyways:
I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation
Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill
Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)
Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')
I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot
HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice
Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win
Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.
Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax
Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi
Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum
f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...
click pic for less sh!ty quality!
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ladymirdan · 4 months
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Warning, fandom rant.
I was gonna piggyback ride off Tagedezorns post about falling out of love with the fandom.
Dont get me wrong, I still fucking LOVE 40k.
Im having a great time painting my minis, reading the lore, reading and talking with the BL authors on twitter or talking the ears off the staff in my local GW (don't worry, they love it, and they have some fantastic HC’s too!)
But the rest of it is sadly losing its appeal for me as well, and it saddens me to see other fan artists or writers feeling the same, I thought it was just me.
When I first started to become active in the shipping fandom about a couple of years ago it was fantastic. I felt so welcome and wanted, I had never gotten a reception like that in any fandom before. I even faced my fear and started writing fanfiction, and people seemed to love it.
But the last months/year it feels like it's all gone. As if Tumblr has died, it feels like I'm shouting into the void. (I have a few people who still interact on my posts and I see you and I love you). But I have eightdoubled my followers last year, but that hasn't resulted in any more interaction, other than a few more likes. But to be fair, likes does nothing.
Im not an influencer or a content creator, and I have zero aspirations to become one. That is why I stopped doing tiktoks. I do not want to chase trends or algorithms, I want to be unhinged about my blorbos and see people being unhinged about their blorbos in turn.
I love the intense passion fandom can have, even when it's not a character I'm personally into.
I really don't want Tumblr to die. I have tried Discord and it was the most alienating and disheartening experience I've had since like high school.
When I first tried it out it was soo much fun, but as time went on, more and more people who seemed to like me stopped posting on there, and more and more whenever I posted I just got straight up ignored.
I could post in a channel that had been dead for weeks, and suddenly people started posting about other things, everyone ignoring what I wrote. If it happened once or twice I wouldn't have bothered, but a dozen or more times? It just fucking sucks. I noticed how it started affecting my mental health, trying to reach out and talk to people, but just being talked around and over. So I just stopped posting.
If someone doesn't like me on Tumblr I won't notice or get sad, but seeing it happen in real-time just fucking sucks.
And also, on Tumblr there is always the off chance that your post gets necromanced. That just doesn't happen on Discord.
And another thing that has happened a lot is I write a fic or a Tumblr post. It gets zero interaction, and I'm like “oh I guess no one is interested about that,” and then I see that someone has just reposted my fic/post in a discord and people are geeking out over it over there.
I'm not a paid artist/writer. I do what I do because I want to geek out over something, preferably with someone else. But I effectively become removed from my art. People are discussing it, just not with me.
Dealing with being unliked as a person fucking sucks. Especially when it's supposed to be your hobby-fun-time. And it is making me not want to post stuff anymore.
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dorkynerd23 · 10 months
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Okay. So, this has mostly been going on over on the toxic dumpster fire shithole that's known as Twitter, (including TikTok as well from what I've heard and seen from others pointing it out) but I think this DEFINITELY needs to be said here as well. Although, the fandom isn't as horrible here as it is on Twitter, but you get the idea. Anyways, this situation has gotten even more horrible and awful and the way the fanbase has gotten is just saddening to me and this needs to be discussed and talked about because it's gotten too far and it's just an upsetting situation.
But to any of you out there that harassed and attacked the VA's over on Twitter when it comes to the shipping and if you harassed Michael for saying he's in support and doesn't mind Nuzi, you guys are disgusting and just straight up awful. You guys just suck and you really need to stay off the internet if you're going to the point of harassing people, please get some help and just fucking stop. Please don't attack or harass any of the Voice Actors, Liam or any of the crew who work at Glitch Productions, these are REAL people with actual feelings and boundaries and they don't have the time for this bullshit, none of them deserve to be dragged into these toxic shipping wars and arguments some of you fans keep on getting yourselves into, they have lives and things to do and they don't deserve to be mistreated and harassed like this or at all. The people who are doing this aren't real fans and they don't care about the show or the talented people behind it, they don't care about the passion, love, effort and all the things to appreciate and love about MD as a whole.
These "so-called fans" don't care about the actual show, they just care about the characters ages and the shipping aspects and wonder which characters will get together and who'll be a couple, they just care about shipping. That's all they care about and that's just so damn disheartening and very unfair, Dude. :( As I've mentioned and said before, there's SO MUCH MORE to appreciate and love about Murder Drones, MD as a show has more to offer and things to love about it. There's clearly so much love and passion that goes into the show and Liam has a very fun and unique way of storytelling when it comes to Murder Drones!
SHIPPING ISN'T EVERYTHING, PEOPLE!! STOP MAKING IT A BIG OF A DEAL, BECAUSE IT'S NOT! It doesn't matter whether you're a fan or don't care about Envy, Nuzi, or any of the ship pairings in the show, whether you're a fan or not, it is NEVER OKAY to bully and harass anybody. It's especially NOT okay and doesn't give any of you the right to harass anybody that's working on the show, that is disgusting and unacceptable behavior and any of you who have/do this is disgusting and you should know better, especially when some of you are grown adults doing this mess, please set a better example and just stop. Any of you who are doing this JUST STOP IT, PLEASE. These are real actual people and they have actual feelings and lives and they don't have the time for this, they're just actors on the show and they have nothing to do with this and don't have time for it either. Everything planned out for the show and the ones who know what's gonna happen and can say what is/isn't canon are Liam Vickers himself and Glitch.
I've said this before and I'll say it again because it seriously needs to be said, honestly. Shipping shouldn't even be something you go into for a show, you should watch and go into a show for more than just that, that shouldn't be the only thing to look forward to, there's more to shows than just ships, it's just childish and straight up unfair if you're only watching shows for the romance and wondering who'll get with who in the end, and not appreciating the other great things and aspects about the shows you watch. Shows like Murder Drones have so much more to them, so much more to offer, be loved, adored, enjoyed and appreciated for! 💙
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weirdmorefics · 2 months
Note
Hi! Can I send in a request for being another timelord who travels with the 9th doctor and Rose Tyler being like a sister figure to Y/N?
A/N- Yes yes yes!!! I have actually had an idea for something like this just hadn't written it yet.
Readers Pronouns- She/Her
Word Count- 3.9k
Summary- (BASED ON S1 E6) The Doctor and Rose find themselves in a bunker in Utah full of alien artifacts. They are shocked to find some of these artifacts are alive and not here of their own free will. You just so happen to be one of these artifacts.
The Slightly Behind Timelord
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I used to keep track of how many days I'd been chained and experimented on but the days quickly turned into months and the months turned to years. I've long since lost hope of ever returning to Gallifrey. It was in shambles when I was last home, the war was constant. I was a coward and stole my parent's Tardis to escape from having to fight. A stupid coward who didn't check if it was in working condition to only have crashed and ended up imprisoned by a man who I know as Mr. Van Statten. I should have stayed and fought then at least I would have died with dignity.
I have refused to talk since my arrival. I may have betrayed Gallifrey by fleeing but I refuse to make things worse than they already are there. Nevertheless, Mr. Van Statten comes and talks to me every single day asking about about my ship. They have dissected the TARDIS piece by piece. I secretly hope it burns them alive. When Mr. Van Statten inevitably gets nothing out of me he sends in a man an orange suit to torture it out of me. It never works but they do not stop.
Today was different they had a new man with them, he was restrained and they strapped him to the walls like me. I wonder if this was a new torture strategy.
"Look here we got you a friend maybe now you will do some talking," Van Statten says cheerfully.
I look at the man with pity knowing they are going to torture him as well. Van Statten's men unchain me and drag me to the other side of the room. I don't even fight them anymore I don't have the energy to spare.
Van Statten powers up his inhumane X-ray and says, "Smile!"
The man screams in pain as the red beam scans him and Van Statten smiles in glee at the results.
"Two hearts! A binary vascular system! Here I thought you were special," he shouts a glare in my direction and the man chained up widens his eyes.
The man doesn't look at Van Statten but puts his focus on me, "Where are you from?"
"No point in talking to her she hasn't spoken since we tore her from the rubble of her ship. She put up quite the fight when we started dissembling her ship screaming you are killing her. Then not a single word," he sighs in disappointment shaking his head at me. "I would get rid of her now that I have you but I need more information about the ship."
I suck in a breath they kill without care here, I wonder if everyone on this planet is like that. The man chained is certainly not from here maybe he can get me out. However, he is looking at me like I am unreal so perhaps not.
If looks could kill Van Statten would certainly be dead from this man's fiery gaze, "You're not a collector you're a scavenger."
"This technology has been falling to earth for centuries I am simply just making use of it. Oh the advances I've made from alien junk you have no idea, Doctor," he grins but I quickly interrupt.
I gasp, "The Doctor! Has Gallifrey won the war! How are you here?"
Van Satten's grin turns to a full-blown smile, "First you make the Dalek talk now my longest surviving exhibit! You truly are something!"
"there- there is uh... a Dalek here," I whisper afraid to speak their name.
The Doctor looks at me eyes full of guilt and astonishment, he still looks at me as if I am not here.
"Thank you again Doctor so much for getting her to talk keep her talking for me why don't you? Since you all seem so scared of said Dalek, I think I will go back and try to have a word with it. I find fear is the best motivator to get people spending, " Van Statten is practically glowing with joy and I wish I could smack the joy right off.
The Doctor wrestles with his chains trying to break free, "You can't go in there with it! Now that it knows that I am here it will come looking for me! No one on this planet will be safe!"
His screams fill me with fear if I could throw up right now I would but they hardly ever feed me so there is nothing to throw up so I end up hyperventilating. Mr. Van Statten ends up shocking the Doctor and his angry words are replaced with painful screams.
I struggle against my chains screaming at the top of my lungs, "He tells the truth! You don't stand a chance against the Daleks! The war lasted centuries on Gallifrey here you will be lucky to last day!"
Van Statten looks at me in awe, "Wow full sentences maybe you will prove useful after all these years."
Nothing I say to this psychotic man will ever get into that thick skull of his, I would facepalm if my hands weren't shackled to the wall.
Alarms sound and angry red lights flash, my heart sinks, it's to late.
The Doctor's tone shifts from begging to demanding, "Release me if you want to live."
Van Statten quickly makes work of the chains holding the Doctor down and runs for the door.
The Doctor points to me, "Forgetting someone?"
Van Statten waves him off, "We haven't the time!"
"You need all the information you can get on Daleks, let her out now!" he shouts leaving no room for questions and Van Statten quickly does the command.
My legs feel like jelly as we run into the elevator I can't remember the last time I've walked unchained let alone run. I felt so out of place, especially in a ratty hospital gown.
"You have to keep it caged," he shouts to Van Statten's lackeys.
"Doctor it's all my fault," a blonde says apologetically on the screen.
A guard informs us that he has sealed off the exits and the lock as a million combos no way the thing's getting out. I shake my head at his idiocy I just hope this blonde girl is also a timelord, the more the better.
"Daleks are genius they can figure out a billion combinations in ten seconds flat." The Doctor informs.
The Dalek quickly figures out how to exit the moment I see it on the screen I cover my mouth in horror.
"Don't shoot I want it unharmed!" Van Statten shouts.
"Are you that dense! You would rather a whole planet die than lose a collection piece!" I shout at the man who held me captive for years and swing a punch at his face which earns me the pleasant crunch noise from his nose.
two guards pull me away from him as I smile for the first time in ages. The Doctor doesn't seem to notice the commotion shouting for the blonde whose name is apparently Rose to run.
I look back to the screen to see the Dalek destroying the screen connection. I feared the sucker would go right through the screen and appear before me like a Weeping Angel. I stumbled backward but the guards just tugged harder to keep me in place. I groaned in response to the uncomfortable position.
The Doctor's head whipped in the direction of the noise in high alert, "let her go! You are focused on the wrong alien here!"
The guards look to Van Statten for his approval, "She's got one hell of a right hook, I'll give her that... drop her.
The guards took this a little too literally and dropped me directly on my ass, as the others make their way to the computer.
"Oh my god, it's draining the whole power supply," the woman with us gasped.
"It's not just the energy it's the whole internet, it knows everything," The Doctor states.
"Cameras in the vault our down," the woman relays.
"It's going to absorb everything," I sigh
"We have to kill it now!" The Doctor shouts.
We watch soldiers die again and again through the surveillance cameras. It's Gallifrey all over again I can't escape it, but maybe I can help this time instead of running away.
"Tell them to stop shooting!" Van Statten says but I am seriously praying this is a very cruel joke.
"But it's killing them!" The woman shouted back.
"They're dispensable that Dalek is unique. I don't want a single scratch on it!" he shouts to the lifeless soldiers.
I clench my fists, "You are asking me to hurt you! You are putting lives over a killer," I shout getting in his face his guards instantly stand up preparing for me to strike him again which probably wasn't far off thinking.
"He's an idiot we need to focus," The Doctor interrupts and I return my gaze to the map as they discuss alien weapons.
"There has to be a way to keep it alive, maybe we trap it down there-"
The Doctor cuts him off, "Leaving everyone trapped with it? Rose is down there. I won't let that happen, have you got that?"
That seems to shut Van Statten up for once thank god.
"Who is Rose? Is she from Gallifrey? Did you two come here to stop the last Dalek? Does that mean Gallifrey is safe again?" I ramble many questions at once.
"Doesn't talk for years now you don't shut up," he glares at me like this whole situation is somehow my fault.
The Doctor frowns, "Leave her be Statten." He ignores my questions and tells them to arm all the soldiers with alien weapons it's the only way to beat it. Then he directs the soldiers on how to kill a Dalek always aim for the eye the soldiers shut him down.
"I can't help but think everyone on this planet is insanely dense," I sigh.
The doctor smirks, " There are some good humans out there, you wouldn't know being stuck here with these imbeciles."
Van Statten's glare burns into The Doctor I feel the heat of the glare just from the proximity.
"We have visuals again," the woman informs and all of our eyes dart to the computer.
"It wants us to see," The Doctor growled.
We all stare in shock as the Dalek uses the sprinklers to electrocute and kill all the soldiers at once.
"Perhaps we should consider a different strategy like abandoning the place," Van Statten nervously stumbles over his words. I had never seen him like this he always seemed confident when torturing me. If this were any other situation I would be overjoyed to see him like this. I wish I was the one to make him feel like this, not the Dalek.
The woman glares at him, "Except there's no power to the helipad, sir."
"You said we could seal the vault," The Doctor interrupts their glaring showdown.
"There's not enough power!" she shouts.
"There's emergency power we could redirect it to the bulkhead door," The Doctor defends.
"It would take a computer genius to get through the security codes!" The woman says frustrated.
"Good thing you got me," Mr. Van Statten smiles.
"You wanna help?" The Doctor asks shocked.
"No there is no way he wants to help! It is physically impossible he has no empathy. This has to be a trick!" I shout.
"It's not out of empathy, I don't want to die as simple as that. This could have been avoided if you talked in the first place. I would have known what it was capable of years ago." He shouts back at me.
The camera turns back on and the Dalek's voice fills the room, "I shall only speak to the doctor."
"You are gonna get rusty," he responds to the Dalek who still getting soaked by the sprinkler system.
"I don't think now is a great time for jokes Doctor," I whisper.
"I fed off the DNA of Rose Tyler. Extrapolating the biomass of a time-traveler regenerated me," the Dalek speaks.
"What's your next trick," the Doctor rolls his eyes.
"I have been searching for the Daleks," it responds.
"Yeah, I saw downloading the entire internet. What did you see?" He saunters around the table.
"I searched your radio signals and telescopes," it responds.
I anxiously pick at the scabs already forming from when I punched Satten. What will happen if this Dalek happens to find more Daleks? What if he isn't the last one.
The Doctor seems completely unphased, "and find anything?"
"Nothing, Where shall I get my order from now!" It screams loudly.
"Nothing but a solider without any commands," the Doctor teases.
I look at him in shock he can't possibly think it's a good thing to rile up at a Dalek more.
"Then I shall follow my primary order, the Dalek instinct to conquer and destroy," it responds.
"What for! What's the point!" The Doctor shouts his facade slipping. "Don't you see everything is gone, everything you stood for."
"Then what should I do?" The Dalek actually seemed to have an emotion other than hatred. Many emotions. I would have felt bad for it if not for all they have done against Gallifrey.
"Alright, then. If you want orders follow this one. Kill yourself," the doctor responds coldly.
I look up at him with wide eyes this is not the Doctor they spoke of on Gallifrey the mischievous one who was too smart for his own good. This Doctor was cold and harsh with his words.
"The Daleks must live on," the Dalek shouts in a familiar rage that all Daleks have.
"The Daleks have failed! Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct! Rid the universe of your filth! Why don't you just die, " The Doctor shouts back such cruel words that I am worried that the Dalek will retaliate immediately.
"You would make a good Dalek," it responds and I think I have officially heard the worst insult anyone could make toward a Gallifreyian.
I put my hand on the Doctor's arm, " I am so sorry."
The Doctor does not look at me he looks broken but yells to Statten, "Seal the vaults!"
"She's still down there," the woman whispers to the doctor.
He calls Rose on his phone to get updates on her location he cares so much about this Rose she has to be a Time Lady like me. I can't imagine the Doctor having much time to visit other planets after the war.
He relays to her that he can't stop the gate from closing she has to run. He waits as long as he can and apologizes before shutting the vault. He frantically asks if she made it but his face quickly sets into a deep frown.
He quickly pulls off his earpiece, "I killed her."
Van Statten says, "I'm sorry." I have never heard him say sorry before I haven't heard the word sorry in so long it sounds foreign.
"I was supposed to protect! She was only here because of me! And you're sorry? I could have killed that Dalek in its cell but you stopped me."
"It was the prize of my collection!" He defended.
I shook my head hard, "You valued your collection over life you are disgusting."
"Man goes to space to be part of something greater," the Doctor spits.
"Exactly! I wanted to touch the stars! That's why I kept her here!" he points to me. "If you think about it, it is all her fault none of this would have happened if she told me how her ship worked."
The Doctor shook his head, "You just wanted to drag the stars underground! Of course, she wouldn't talk you enslaved her and experimented on her! You are about as far from the stars as you can get!" His angry screams turned to sorrowful sighs, "And you took Rose down with you she was nineteen years old."
"She's so young can she not regenerate?" I ask sadly.
"She's human," he sighs.
I can't understand what a timelord is doing traveling with humans I understand now is not the time for questions.
The elevator doors open and the Doctor is quick to yell at the man for leaving his companion behind.
The monitor turns back on the Dalek holding its weapon to the back of the girl, "Open the vault or Rose Tyler dies."
The doctor gasps, "You're alive!"
"Can't get rid of me that easily," she teases.
"I thought you were dead," he shouts.
The Dalek interrupts, "Open the vault!"
"Don't" she begs.
"What use are emotions, if you will not save the woman you love," the Dalek states. Curious what does a Dalek know about love?
"I killed her once, I can't do it again," he states as he presses the button.
This is most certainly not the Doctor who was infamous in Gallifrey how long have I been missing. I hear Van Satten shouting but none of it really matters anymore. The Dalek will kill us and I have been missing so long that no one back home will know the difference. I am not going down without a fight. If my life didn't mean something hopefully my death can.
I adjust my posture to appear taller, "You collect all these dangerous aliens so where are your dangerous alien weapons?"
The woman shouts at me "All the weapons are in the vault!"
"Only the cataloged ones," Van Statten's employee smiles at me. I can't help the blush that appears on my face I can't remember the last time someone smiled at something I said.
The Doctor nods his head at me, "Good idea." He still looks at me like I'm a figment of his imagination and will disappear soon.
We left Van Statten and his assistant upstairs and went to the basement for weapons. The doctor tosses the weapons that are useless but finds a gun which relieves some of my anxiety.
"Stay here! I'll come back for you as soon as I handle the Dalek!" He demands
"You are out of your mind! I've been locked here for years and you're the first timelord I've seen here! If you think I am letting you fight a Dalek alone you're mental!" I shout back it feels strange screaming at anyone after refusing to speak for so long even weirder to scream at a war hero from my own planet.
He takes a deep breath trying to control his rage, "I don't have time for this! I can't have you dying while I am saving Rose!"
I shove him, hold my head high, and walk right by him, "I have more regenerations left than you old man."
He jogs to catch up to me, "No convincing you?"
"God you sound like my parents when I stole their Tardis," I groan as we jog up the stairs.
He smirks, "I stole a Tardis myself once."
"Now that's a story I have to hear," I grin wide.
"Another day," he sighs as we quietly enter the room with the Dalek and Rose.
The Doctor steps in front of me "Rose get out of the way now!"
"No, I won't let you do this," she frowns.
I stare wide-eyed at her she can't be saying this does she know of the war on Galifrey why wouldn't the Doctor have told her.
"That thing killed thousands of people!" He shouts.
"It's not the one pointing a gun at me," she snaps and I kind of want to throttle this girl.
"I've got to do this the Daleks destroyed my home! My people! I've got nothing left!" He shouts.
My head whips to face the Doctor, "What do you mean nothing." My voice shakes no matter how hard I try to remain calm. "We didn't win the war? How are you here then?"
I turn back to the Dalek, "Did they win?"
I stomp towards the Dalek and the doctor pleads with me to wait. Rose looks at me nervously I guess I can still look scary in a hospital gown and no weapon of my own. When she steps out of the way I freeze in my spot I've never seen a Dalek out of its exoskeleton.
"What is it doing?" This has to be a ploy, one they use to seem weaker then snap. Though a Dalek would never do that they need to feel superior or they are nothing.
"It's the sunlight that's all it wants," Rose defends the Dalek as it reaches its hand to the sun I back up. This is not normal behavior.
The Doctors' gaze follows, "But it can't..."
"It couldn't kill me or Van Statten it's changing!" Rose defends yet again. "And what about you Doctor what the hell are you changing into?"
I whip to Rose, "You have no right! You have no idea what these Daleks did to our home!"
"Our?" She questions.
"Why do we survive?" The Dalek asks. "I am the last of the Daleks."
"You're not even that, you absorbed Rose's DNA. You are mutating," the Doctor explains.
"Into what?" it responds.
"Something new," he replies.
I frown I am happy that there are no more Daleks but this is truly a Dalek's worst nightmare.
"I am sorry," The Doctor sighs.
"isn't that better?" Rose asks.
"Not for a Dalek," why am I feeling sorry for the Dalek they destroy everything it's their goal. I can't help but relate to it when we have been stuck in the same prison for years... I thought about burning this whole place down myself.
"So many ideas, so much darkness. Give me orders! Order me to die Rose," the Dalek says pained.
She shakes her head, "No I can't."
"This is not life! This is sickness. I shall not be like you. Order me to die. Obey! Obey! Obey!" The dalek screams and I can't help but step a few feet back the words reminding me of hearing the constant battlefield noises out my childhood window on Gallifrey.
"Do it," she says.
"Are you frightned Rose Tyler?"
"Yes"
"So am I, Exterminate." The Dalek floats up and prepares to self destruct as Rose and I run away from it.
I fall to the ground as I watch the Dalek explode all the adrenaline I once had fades out of me. I look up to the Doctor, "What do you mean you have no one?"
His pitiful gaze that he sent me when he first found out I was Timelord made sense now as he responds, There's no more Gallifrey... no more Daleks. The whole planet gone."
I can sob " I should have stayed home. I should have never ran away. If I stayed at least I would have gone with my family." I turn to the doctor but can barely see him through my tears. "Is there really no other Timelords?"
Rose quickly gets onto the floor and rubs my back, "hey you never know! The Doctor thought he was the only Timelord left but here you are! Plus you get to constantly prove the Doctor was wrong not many people get the oppurtunity."
I sniffle, "That's true, and I do love proving people wrong."
"There you go," she soothes. "We will get you a good cup of tea my Mum always says tea cure anything," She helps me to feet.
"You are really good at this comforting thing. Is she always this sweet?" I ask the Doctor.
The Doctor seems to have glossy eyes as well but hides his emotions well, "Yeah, that's why I keep her around."
"Hey!" she shoves him.
"The grief is very heavy right now but I am thankful to be surrounded by such light that could even turn a Dalek's cold heart warm.
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suzukiblu · 4 months
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I was reading some of your old young justice fics on AO3 (all amazing as always omggg I want to eat your writing) and was wondering if you still ship Kon with Kaldur?
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Yes, and I will NEVER get over the fact that a) the fandom was not even an IOTA as interested in Kaldur/Conner as it would've been if Kaldur had been Garth or Roy or literally any gd white dude, and b) that the SHOW did not commit to making Kaldur and Conner codependent ride-or-die besties unto the fucking apocalypse, given how their relationship first started. Kaldur should ABSOLUTELY have been more important to Conner than he was treated as being and vice fucking versa, as far as I'm concerned. Of course Conner would imprint on his first-met independent person! Of course Kaldur would feel responsible for his newborn new friend!! Of course they'd both get weird about each other!!!! OF COURSE THEY'D BOTH HAVE DADDY ISSUES!!!!!!!!
The het ships that no one even cared about were more popular in fandom than Kaldur/Conner ever was from what I saw, despite the fact that Kaldur is the first person Conner both actually sees AND physically touches--via being mind-controlled into PUNCHING HIM ACROSS A CREEPY BASEMENT LAB, and isn't that fucked UP?!--and also the one who specifically got through to him of the initial trio who met him in Cadmus, AND is a very chill and patient and serious-minded, calming presence who will actually fucking meet you where you're at, and also DESERVES someone who is a real ride-or-die full-loyalty-nonstop type to get angry on his behalf. Those two's personalities would be SO much more interesting together than "teehee bubbly alien LARPs being human to avoid her problems and drags Conner along for the ride even when he fucking SAYS he hates it!!", ffs.
( like, I like M'gann, but LORD did they handle her and Conner's . . . EVERYTHING so, so poorly, and it only ever got WORSE, from what I've heard. )
And really Kaldur just deserved so much more screentime and emotional development and like, ANY attention from fandom, imho. I wanted to write way more for them than I did, but the total lack of other fans of the ship around just sucked out all the fun and inspo.
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nahoney22 · 11 months
Note
Congrats on 3k! Sorry for the late request, I don't know if you're still accepting them or not but could possibly do a nsfw Female reader for Wolffe with the prompts "You know you're really hot when you're angry" and "if we weren't in public right now, I'd bend you over the table and fuck you."
Also your writing is so good from what I've seen!!
3000 Prompt List Celebration
Wolffe X F!Reader
word count: 1.9k
NSFW
prompts:
“You know you’re really hot when you’re angry.”
“If we weren’t in public right now, I’d bend you over the table and fuck you right now.” (Altered just a tad)
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warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit sexual content. P in v sex, Dirty talk, sexual tension creampie, established but private relationship, slightly rough sex, kissing, nipple sucking/licking, swearing, dom!Wolffe, semi-public sex, reader is a bit of a tease. Aftercare and some soft moments.
authors note: sorry for the wait. 💜 as always, dividers are by @samspenandsword
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“Don’t trip.”
Your advice would have been much appreciated if you purposely didn’t it say after the Commander tripped over some tangled uprooted vines. But, as it was Commander Wolffe, you just simply couldn’t help but tease him.
His comrades snigger at their Commander's misfortune, only to receive a piercing, disapproving stare from the resolute clone. His gaze then shifted to you, a bomb disposal expert for the 104th, and he matched your notorious smirk with an equally stern glare.“Watch it, missy.” He hissed as you approached, oozing confidence that used to ignite a fiery reaction within him.
Used to.
The 104th were aware of the tension between you both, always bickering and incessantly teasing one another when assigned on missions together. Even Sinker and Boost had a bet on to see who would kill each other first. What his brothers didn’t know, however, is that the hardened Commander had fallen for you and you just so happened to have fallen for him too.
Those times he had said to his comrades that he had given you a reprimanding in private? Yeah, that is simply you getting pushed up agaisnt a wall and fucked hard, hands tangled in each others hair. Or, you would sneak into each other's quarters at night and he would crawl under your sheets, tasting what he caused.
“Or what?” you taunted, pausing with a confident stance and an arched eyebrow.
His jaw clenches and he looks to his men who marched on forward, leaving you two at the back of the pack. “If we weren’t in public right now, I’d bend you over by that tree and fuck you right now.” He leans in close to your ear, looking like he’s giving you a stern warning when in reality it seemed like an inviting threat.
“Oh Commander,” you say with a hushed tone, taking a step closer to him, “you know I’m not the one to shy away.” You grin with a seductive smile that makes his chest heave as he sucks in a deep breath, intoxicated by your words and the mere scent of you as you draw near.
“You’re insufferable.” He utters though you know it was kind of endearing all the same.
“Funny, you said that to me the first time you met me… now look at us, playing pretend in front of your men.” You make sure nobody is looking when you stand on the tips of your toes and very teasingly place a kiss to the corner of his lips. “Try not to tell me off too much, you know how flustered it gets me.”
He watches you strut away, your hips swaying in a manner that had captivated him from the moment he laid eyes on you. He could feel himself straining against his uniform, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck, and this time, he couldn't blame the heat alone. He needed to find a way to be alone with you, sooner rather than later.
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Another jab, another eye twitch from the Commander. You were purposefully being a brat to get his attention and much to the amusement of his brothers who revel in seeing him squirm. The mission had been a success, and as they all boarded the ships to return to Coruscant, you were unabashedly engaged in a loud conversation with Boost and Sinker about Wolffe, making his ears burn.
He wasn't privy to the exact nature of your conversation, but you had glanced over your shoulder, almost snickering, before redirecting your attention to his brothers. Oh, you were definitely up to something.
With a determined stride, his chest puffed out, Wolffe approached, his presence causing both Boost and Sinker's expressions to falter as he stood behind you, arms folded. "What are you three talking about?"
"Uh, nothing, sir," Boost stammered, clearing his throat in a futile attempt to suppress a laugh, while Sinker grew increasingly red, struggling to contain his amusement.
"Uh-huh," Wolffe huffed at the two of them before placing a firm hand on your shoulder and turning you to face him. "Care to enlighten me, ma'am?"
Your eyes locked with his, an unspoken tension hanging between you. "Are you implying that we're talking about you?" you asked playfully, tilting your head to the side. "That's rather egotistical of you."
Sinker couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, receiving a swat on the arm from Boost, but Wolffe’s gaze remained fixed on you. "Do you want me to remind you how to address your superiors?”
Biting your inner cheek, you knew exactly what he was alluding to, and truth be told, you were more than eager. "I believe you might have to, yes."
Taking a step closer, his proximity engulfing you, Wolffe’s voice grew husky. "Go to the cargo hold. I want to speak with you alone."
You turned to Boost and Sinker, rolling your eyes as if to downplay the simmering tension. "Very well, Commander. I'll join you in a moment."
A low grunt escaped Wolffe, followed by the sound of his retreating footsteps. After bidding farewell to the boys, who remained blissfully unaware of what would truly transpire in the cargo hold, you strolled casually toward your destination, the ship's humming masking the rapid thumping of your heart. As the door to the hold hissed open, revealing Wolffe leaning against a stack of crates, the ship's red lights cast an alluring glow upon his figure. "Lock the door behind you, ma'am," he instructed, and, as customary for him, you turned and obediently complied.
But as you turned back to face him, he was already before you, his lips claiming yours with fervor. "You drive me insane, you know that, baby?"
Melting against him, your arms encircled the back of his neck as his lips and tongue expertly explored your own. It felt like an eternity since you had been this close, and you certainly had no intention of letting this opportunity go to waste.
"How can you blame me?" you whispered, a sly smirk gracing your face as you gently nibbled on his lower lip, eliciting a gratifying growl-like sound from deep within him. "You know you're really hot when you're angry."
He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding sensually under your thighs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground. The intense kiss continued as he carried you toward the crates where he had previously been leaning, gently setting you down. "Not angry, just terribly, painfully sexually frustrated," he admitted with a husky tone.
"Well then," you countered, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as your hands rested against his chest, "I’m glad that the others believe you're reprimanding me. They won't disturb us."
A wicked smirk mirrored your own on his face as his hands eagerly fumbled with the buttons and clasps of your uniform. With a swift motion, your work shirt was stripped away and discarded unceremoniously on the floor. "You're absolutely right, sweetheart," he sighed, leaning down to pepper kisses along your collarbone and down your chest, leaving a trail of heated desire in his wake.
You tilt your head back, moaning softly when he lets his tongue lick over one of your stiffening nipples, his other hand caressing your other breast before teasingly pinching the hardened nub. “That feels so good,” you whine quietly, still a little cautious in case anybody hears you both but at the same time you don't care. And neither did he.
He only hums in response to you, tongue flicking rapidly against your stiffened peak but grins when he feels you tugging on his codpiece and freeing his cock.
He moans heartily as you slowly start to pump along his length, his mouth moving to latch onto your other nipple whilst his hands alternate. “Good girl,” he chuckles, pulling your nipple with his lips and letting go with a pop. Your legs shake in eagerness, your cunt throbbing at the need for his cock.
Wolffe whined as your hand stroked downward, encircling the base of his cock in the best of ways that you knew he loved before rising to the top to trail across the sensitive crown. It didn’t take long for him to be rock solid under your touch and it didn’t take long for him to be hooking his fingers into your pants, pulling down your work clothes and panties in a single swoop.
“We need to be quick,” he grunts as he manhandles you and flips you so your bent over the crates, legs spread and eagerly awaiting his cock, “Maker, been wanting to do this all day,”
You feel a heat rush to your cheeks as you hear him spit, in what only could be into his hand. His glove is tossed onto the crate beside you and you let out a loud gasp as you feel something warm and wet caress at your folds; his fingers lubing you up for his cock. “Such a pretty girl, can’t wait to make a mess of you.” He grunts and you whine delicately as you feel his tip line up with your entrance before slowly pushing inside of you.
Fuck. It had been a while.
You whimper and moan even trying to buck up against him to take more. He feels perfect. He is perfect.
He holds himself in you after a long, slow stroke, letting you adjust to the sensation of his large cock. “Wolffe, fuck me. Please. Hard.” You find yourself begging, which wouldn’t be the first time. You liked it rough with him and in the naughtiest scenarios to which being in a ship filled with his men who could come in any second was just the right amount you needed.
But he does. Hard. Fucking away at you with everything he has, no lead up, just hard, slamming strokes that leave bruises on your hips from where the edges of the crate start to dig into her your. He still adorned his gear so you were not shocked to feel slight pinching on the back of your legs but that was overlooked by him filling you completely, stretching you up.
You feel his cock swell less than a second before he growls in your ear, “you like this huh? You like me bending you over and fucking you?” You can only moan and nod feverishly, especially as you feel his finger reach down and strokes at your clit, just once. That’s all it took. You cum, gripping onto the crate as it drags against the metal floor as he pumps you with his seed.
Wolffe rocks his hips slowly until the last drop comes out and then lays his full weight against your back. It's nice, comforting, while he softens and slips out.
He stands back, watching his white lace drip out of your pussy and down your leg and he loves it. “Beautiful.” He mutters, stuffing his cock back into his blacks and reattaching his codpiece, wiping the sweat from his brow.
You stand up straight, legs a little shaken and he makes no hesitation to hold you close and support you, gathering up your clothes and helping you dress. “You don’t have to help me Commander,” you smile with a blush, always a little shy after you had been intimate with the brooding Commander.
“You know I don’t like it when you call me that, baby.” He whispers, placing a kiss to your cheek as he buttons up your shirt and making sure you look presentable. Hebrings you to his chest, arms wrapped around you where he can just hold you for a little while. Away from the others and away from the War. “I… I love you. I hope you do know that.”
His words made your heart flutter and you looked up to him with slightly misty eyes at his soft confession. “I love you too, handsome.”
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Masterlist
Prompt List Works
tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka a @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 9 @padawancat97 7 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog g @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo o @therealnekomari i @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd d @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad
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thefloatingstone · 1 month
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How would you compare Presley's racism vs Ashley's racism. Although now that I type this at least Presley never compared them animals. Hmmm...
Honestly it's all down to "root cause" and "how they express it".
Pressly is a veteran of the first contact war who was shooting at these people less than 30 years ago. His racism has its roots in a perspective forged during wartime and all the baggage THAT drags up. But we get clear and straightforward addressing of Pressly growing out of his racism by his own words, remarking in his log "Reading back on my older entries, what a damn fool I've been."
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Ashley on the other hand may have similar baggage, as her grandfather is a disgraced military man and caused her entire family to be blacklisted because of the First Contact War with the aliens, and that would be a similar place to draw her prejudice from and help her grow out of by realising her true feelings of anger and resentment are misplaced. But the way she voices her racism is full of venom and true, deep seeded contempt and hatred. Comparing them to animals is the big one, and ME2 itself mocks her for this comment if she died on Virmire. But it's more than that. Ashley's entire personality is that of "High School Mean Girl". The second Liara steps on board of the Normandy Ashley is GUNNING to bully her. Not just because she's an alien but ALSO for being "one of those lesbian sluts". (reminder, in ME1 Liara is an extremely shy and awkward historian and archaeologist)
When Shepard tells Ashley to NOT bully Liara for being an Asari, Ashley straight up says "No fun, Commander >:("
Also there's this line which some people miss because it requires you to have the discussion with Liara about the Prejudice and racism Asari face galaxy wide and then going directly to Ashley and speaking to her)
(the clip starts at 2:44)
youtube
idk if I said it here or if I said so in discord to a friend, but I see kaidan and Ashley as being written as the answers to Bioware's handling of Renegade and Paragon options. Kaidan is more geared to reflect a Paragon playthrough and Ashley is more geared to fit a renegade playthrough. Possibly the thinking was whichever way the person is playing, it would affect who they decide to spare on Virmire.
(also I have a good relationship with my family but Ashley going "WHAT DOES SHE MEAN SHE DOESN'T LIKE HER MOM???? THAT'S STUPID." comment also makes me really fucking angry considering how many irl friends I have who have moms who suck ass)
Pressly's racism is problematic (same as Garrus' racism in the first game) but he outgrows it and openly says "I was wrong."
Garrus has a full on conversation with Tali in ME3 and directly says to her "I'm sorry and I was wrong."
Ashley never apologises or excuses her early comments and behaviour. She just at some point stops doing it so overtly and comments how "no I like Tali a lot" (Everybody likes Tali) as if this somehow undoes everything she said. More than anything, she tries to justify and excuse her past comments and opinions while also saying the most hateful things about the crew.
She's a racist bully from a heavily religious traditional military family who makes no effort to understand people from family structures or upbringing she doesn't understand, alien or otherwise, who immediately started picking on the shy nerd the SECOND she stepped foot on the ship and never apologises for any of her actions, racist or otherwise.
The racism is a symptom of a much nastier whole.
She's a VERY well written character. I just heavily dislike her.
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