#i did enjoy this scene but i just want to know when she will have these kinds of conversations with her wife

[livingformintyoongi]

BTS fic recs

I wanted to do this a while ago, but felt like I hadn't read enough, until I checked my likes and got a shock to the face lol. I wanted to give some recommendations of some fics (and a series) that I quite enjoyed reading, plus leave a small review because I feel like it's very underrated to comment on what you like something (people, comment more, I swear it makes a writer feel so much better than a like). There's the occasional spoiler in the reviews, so I recommend you read it carefully or just skip the comment ^^.

Dawning by @wintaerbaer JJK

summary: He’s never invited into your world during these late night sessions. You always push him away or ignore him. This is new. warnings: heavy depictions of depression and panic attacks, a brief line where taehyung worries oc is s**cidal. I really loved this fic. For a moment I thought it was some kind of two shot or something, but it only has this one part. Still, I felt the author captured the emotions very well. It felt so realistic that even I was worried when Y/N disappeared lol.

Bottle up old love by @wintaerbaer KTH

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep. warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming. This fic made me remember why I love the exes to lovers trope. I loved seeing Jungkook as a tattoo artist, it's like, I don't know, so him, anyway, I loved it. I just found this account yesterday in the wee hours of the morning and I'm already loving it <3.

Cat-astrophe & Cat-enaries by @dumpywrites MYG

Summary: Your pet cat keeps going to your neighbor’s apartment and it’s a problem.  I fell in love with this Yoongi like you have no idea. When I just read the first part I was so eager to keep reading, seriously, I loved it, it deserves so much love.

Two Days by @dumpywrites JJK

Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not? I live for Jungkook being simp of the reader, I feel it's so real lol. This fic made me feel so warm inside, it was too cute to read. It's kind of like my comfort fic.

S'more than friends by @borathae MYG

Warnings: subby!Yoongi, switchy!Reader, consumption of beer, so much awkward tension, jealousy, sex in a tent, mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, making out aye, Yoongi loves her boobs and she loves his butt it’s a win-win, sex while other people are sleeping, public sex, she has a thing for his hands (but what’s new lmao), fluffy post-orgasm talks because I’m soft. I read it a while ago now, but I remember when I did I felt so soft. This Yoongi is just too cute.

Please don't go by @httpjungkookcom JJK

Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you. Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line.  Spiderkook, is more needed to read this fic? It was the first one I read about this au and I was WONDERED. God, you can't imagine how much I loved it. I thought it was so cute the way Jk approached reader being in his suit….

Accidental roommates by @jjkeverlast JJK

summary: moving apartments is stressful and difficult enough as it is. all the planning and packing and multiple moments of rearranging furniture; all you crave is peace. yet it seemed like peace was far within reach as the owner of the apartment had left out one tiny crucial detail from the ad — a ripped tattooed adonis, coupled, with a tiny baby daughter will come as your roommate. warnings: second hand embarrassment | jungkook's abs | annoying antics | suppressed feelings | both of them are stubborn and petty (it's gets tiring lmfao) | mentions of past relationships | a lot of time stamps | sexual tension | ft. namjoon 👀 | !constant change of perspective between reader and jungkook. I have a tremendous weakness with dilf, no matter who it is, I just love them. I think this was the first one I read by Jungkook. It was so fun and easy to read that the 14.7k words flew by for me.

Silk & Stones by @taegularities KTH

Summary: “Taehyung was a writer… he was a writer indeed.” Kim Taehyung knows his way around words – they cast a spell on your heart and mind, leave you gasping dangerously fast. Until the mystery behind his persona unveils and his touch, along with his words, becomes a vivid memory. warnings: writer + violinist tae 🥺 who’s a gentleman in the 19th century, brief mention of injuries/a mental institution, misunderstandings, heartbreak, secrets, grief, much poetry (and my attempt at writing a poem, pls spot), much disgoosting fluff, flirting and lots of sexual tension; explicit sexual content: 2 sex(y) scenes, fingering on a boat, choking, teasing, begging, praising, soft dom!tae, big dick!tae, tiddie fondling/sucking, some manhandling, dirty talk, they’re just so cute :((, oral (f. and m. receiving), some masturbation, oc is into neck kisses, some biting, fingering, hair pulling, asking for permission :(, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it’s the 19th century...), aftercare; there’s quite some angst ok; lmk if i forgot smth !! This was a work of art for me. I felt so immersed in the story, so confused by the time changes and everything surrounding Taehyung, but I loved it, one of the best stories I've read of Taehyung since I joined tumblr.

17 going on 27 by @hansolmates JJK

summary; one second, you’re sobbing at prom because the most popular guy in school dumps you due to your relationship being a little prank to break your heart. the next? you’re a creative editor at Ego, the hottest young adult fashion magazine. as you try to figure out what’s the deal with this sudden time skip into adulthood, you come across relationships and friendships that are made to be cherished and made to be broken. genre/warnings; fluff, crack, future enemies to lovers, teenage and adulthood angst, time skips from high school!au to late twenties!au, 13 going on 30!au, all your romantic movie tropes come to life! a really big mess honestly, various movie and music references, mentions of sex, use of alcohol, everyone give jin and jimin a big ol hug, language, a surprise guest from the queen of england. I love adaptations, especially ones that add their own touch, and the writer did it so well. She made me hate Jungkook, and then love him, and then hate him again, in the end I ended up resenting him, I wanted reader to stay with Jin lol, but I still loved it. Definitely my favorite part was having Jimin as a best friend, I loved watching him take on Jungkook in the car. We all need a friend like him.

Hot Bot by @httpjeon JJK/PJM/KTH/JHS

JJK: You order a sex robot online after getting a coupon for half off. however, there’s something strange about yours. PJM: Fear is primal and causes one to make stupid decisions. KTH: Your parents have a gift for you, however, there’s been a mistake. JHS: As a product tester, you have one of the most sought after temporary positions in Hot Bot Inc. This is a series that has smut, I think the name gives it away. It's rather sad that the writer is on hiatus, but he left the gems of his works open to the public. The series is pretty good, I fell in love with Jungkook (and Yoongi kskjdsksjds). Highly recommended.

The proposal by @hansolmates JJK

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always. I was looking for an adaptation of this movie for so long that when I found this one I almost cried with emotion. I LOVED the movie and the concept it had, and I was so happy to read this fic that captures that very romcom essence that the movie has. I loved it.

Marshmallows and report cards by @untaemedqueen KTH

Warnings: Impreg Kink, Marking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Birthday Sex, Spitting, Begging, Praise, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Big Dick!Tae, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Possessive!Tae, Cock Warming, Creampie. I already confessed, this kind of fics get to me. I remember reading it and melting with the ending. I read it a long time ago, so I can't give a longer opinion, but I do remember that I loved it and came out internally squealing after I finished it.

Orange tulips by @kainks JJK

Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. Genre: Angst. Fluff. Light Smut. The anxiety and helplessness I felt reading this fic are on another level. This scarred me, I read it once and I was never the same person again. It was wonderful, I felt so many things and I was so nervous during the whole reading that I almost didn't even realize when it was over. It is a very enjoyable fic.

What if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself. Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood. This fic left me feeling bad, it even made me question some future decisions regarding my relationship with my future partner and the necessary communication that must be had in a relationship from the beginning, especially if there is a child in the middle. It was something I really enjoyed reading, and even though I had my internal dilemmas with Jungkook, the drabbles in the story helped me a lot to let go of my grudge (I swear I have nothing personal with him sksjkajskajsj).

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #fanfic #bts imagine #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #fiction #bts x oc #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung x oc #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jimin x female reader #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #hoseok x reader

[tremendum]

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Me and the Devil; i

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next

word count: 5.3k

summary:  Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.

notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33

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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation

In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041. 

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There was once a time when green was your favorite color. 

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you. 

When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones. 

Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.

Black, white, and red. 

They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.

Your na-Baron. 

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could. 

After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then. 

The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already. 

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet? 

After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands. 

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger. 

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.  

He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms. 

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.

Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change. 

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.

There is a loud noise just outside; blades. 

For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again. 

You almost wish he will. 

When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.

You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in. 

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.

The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage. 

Why did you wait so long to rescue me?

You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left. 

Your blade falls within minutes.

You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after. 

You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour. 

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"My Lady."

You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty. 

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.

Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.  

He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head. 

He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan. 

Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs. 

You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.

Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.

 Hello, sister.

You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green. 

There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him. 

But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke. 

Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.

"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy. 

Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore. 

Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat. 

"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home." 

"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.

For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday. 

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.

Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play. 

Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. 

Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted. 

You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted. 

Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves. 

"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you. 

It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss." 

Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier. 

Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.

"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."

The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon." 

What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer. 

The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead. 

When you respond, your voice is frigid. 

"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution." 

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The rain is gone by the next day.

In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water. 

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes. 

Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures. 

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night. 

Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed. 

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you. 

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows. 

And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.

Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold. 

After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."

His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten. 

"Are you one of them?" 

Them?

You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut. 

"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.

You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators. 

Paul is likely the same. 

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years. 

His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit." 

Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes. 

After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."

When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.

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"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.

He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him. 

She is telling the truth. 

His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty. 

But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.

But his father's words burn sharply into his mind. 

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.

By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him. 

"I was supposed to be a lot of things." 

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.

You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition. 

You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone. 

Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person." 

Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him. 

So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.

"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle." 

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.

An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing. 

"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land." 

The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat. 

"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me." 

He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please. 

His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.

His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him. 

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follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

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#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul atreides i need you so bad #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #me and the devil; series #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune fanfiction #dune smut

[zordanna]

𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭𝓲𝓮

A fluffy fic inspired from this old drawing I did🍃

English is not my first language and I hate writing so don’t expect too much. It’s just a small scene where Sebastian realises he’s in love with my MC, you can imagine yours there too of course! I ain’t stopping you🫡 enjoy I guess?

Sebastian yawned softly as he kept silently reading his history of magic notes while sitting on the carpet and resting his back on the couch, Eleonora was next to him laying fully on it while reading the chapter trying really hard to not fall asleep.

“Ugh I swear I’m failing this time”

She mumbled while flipping pages. Sebastian rolled his eyes and spoke back with annoyance.

“You literally have the highest grades of all the students in our class, shut up-”

Eleonora huffed and gave him a soft nudge with her knee in response.

“Just because the competition prefers wandering in the restricted section more than studying actual subjects. You know- instead of  forbidden ones”

Sebastian groaned and rested his head on the couch seat cushion to look at her better.

“You are a pain in the ass.” He breathed out glancing back at his notes pretending to ignore her.

“The feeling is mutual”

She ruffled his brown curls gaining a soft laugh from him , the boy rested one cheek on the  cushion and gazed at her while his notes ended up spread around the intricated embodied carpet of Russel  living room. Sebastian  glanced at the book and got an idea.

“I can read it for you, if you want, so we both learn something at least”

His proposal sounded quite nice to Eleonora, she gave him the book and set herself comfortable as he cleared his throat. He started reading and he could almost feel her gaze caressing his skin, Sebastian didn’t know how he managed to say the words correctly without fumbling while having that lovely pair of blue eyes staring at him, the warmth of her presence, her sweet scent of lavender and soap pervading his nostrils…Merlin help him!

On the other side Eleonora’s eyes were looking at his freckles, she always thought they looked like a starry sky , sometimes she would find full constellations in them while stealing glances at her friend’s features. She  glanced  at his lashes, was it even legal to have them so long and soft? The way they fluttered while he was  reading, the way the sun was making them shine with a warm orange shade. She was mesmerised. That’s for sure. The words sounded like a sweet lullaby rather than an actual lecture on how their ancestors channeled magic trough the years, her eyes felt heavy and her body a little too relaxed. 

Maybe if she closed her eyes just for a second…yeah that should do it.

Sebastian was reading the last paragraph when he heard  soft snoring coming from his right side ,he turned his head a little to check on Eleonora and a warm smile formed on his lips as he realised she had fallen asleep. He closed the book putting it away before adjusting himself leaning closer to the sleeping girl. He rested his elbow on the couch cushion careful to not disturb her rest, as usual Eleonora needed her afternoon nap.

Memories of their third year flashed in his mind, rainy afternoons spent napping all together on the same couch down in the undercroft between a mess of books and unfinished candies. Anne was still…well Anne. No curse, no pain just Anne, sleeping peacefully while her tiny head would rest on Ominis shoulder as he was  nestled up almost like a cat. Eleonora’s long blonde hair would tickle his nose as he often found himself using her soft curls as a pillow. They always smelled so good it wasn’t his fault they felt so comfy.

Instinctively Sebastian brushed off some of her blonde strands that were framing her face, very carefully as if she was made of porcelain. Her long blonde curls that once were left wild and free were now tied up in that blue ribbon he gifted her almost two years ago.

“You keep wearing it all the time mh?”

He mumbled softly more to himself than to her. The soft blue satin fabric was a bit smudged near the knot after years of wearing it every day, that’s what happens with the things you love most isn’t it? They change. 

Sebastian always questioned why she would refuse to buy another one, a prettier one maybe made from the most expensive silk with embodied details but she always said that one was just perfect. She loved it.

And he loved how beautiful she looked with it. He loved the way it always made her eyes stand out matching their colour, he loved how it swayed like a swallowtail when she would rush around the hallways late for classes trying to not trip on other students. Swallows are a sign of hope and freedom, he was certain that if she had to be an animal she would be one of them. She was always there trying to see the good side of everything, which in his darker days was both infuriating and yet comforting. It was reassuring  having her slapping some sense in his thick skull sometimes, he couldn’t deny it.

He also loved that, her scolding tone, her stubbornness and resolution whenever he was acting like a complete ass. He loved the way she would ruffle his hair to annoy him, he loved how her soft hands were making him feel butterflies flying around his stomach every damn time…

Sebastian’s chocolate brown eyes were fixed on Eleonora’s delicate face as the sudden realisation hit him like a whole bombarda in his chest.

He was falling in love. No. He was in love. Utterly. Undeniably in love. 

He didn’t realise his face was few centimetres away from hers till now, his lips dangerously close to hers. Before doing something stupid and reckless he pulled away slightly and took a moment to gain his composure, his eyes wandered around the luxurious living room of her family’s manor, the paintings of the Russels were almost staring at him, judging him with their cold gaze.

Who was he trying to fool? He was nobody compared to her family, an orphan living in a cottage with his grumpy uncle, it would never be fair to her. Knowing her parents Eleonora had probably her life planned since day one, as her older sister Ofelia once told him they lived in a golden cage with all comforts but still a cage. It was all doomed from the start so- for now it was better to suppress those feelings. To pretend they never had been there.

For now having her friendship was more than he could hope for, Sebastian looked at the big wood carved clock and checked the time, it was getting pretty late, he sighed and with a soft spoken tone called for her.

“Hey…Birdie”

The world would never want them together, that’s what he was telling himself, yet when he saw those blue eyes and that warm sleepy smile greeting him Sebastian thought that the world could burn or destroy itself in that exact moment.

The world would know Lady Eleonora Russel but Birdie. Birdie was just for him and that was all he needed.

“Birdie? What am I a chicken?”

Eleonora said with a snort while sitting up and stretching a bit letting a yawn escape her lips.

“No more like a goose.”

Sebastian retorted with a cheeky grin. She had no idea of what passed by his mind all the short time she was asleep.

“Ouch- did I snore loud?”

“Terribly. I mistaken you for a troll or something at some point.”

Eleonora laughed at  the statement and crossed her arms in a proud stance. 

“Was I annoying you?”

“Terribly.” Sebastian said faking an exasperated sigh.

“Good. I can consider my mission accomplished then”

She added with a chuckle while they both got up to walk towards the kitchen for stealing a snack or two. Luckily her parents wouldn’t be back till next early morning considering their habit to attend balls and ceremonies  maintaining their high social status connections. That was a relief for the two of them but also for the servitude. The house elves were quite fond of Eleonora, a true ray of sunshine in that toxic household.

The afternoon passed by with their usual playful bantering like any other. It was better pretending nothing happened for Sebastian, it was for the best really.

Was it? Only time would tell. For now they were just fifteen, sitting on the kitchen counter munching a stolen slice of lemon tart while yapping about how they were both convinced Professor Garlick was hiding “special plants” somewhere in the greenhouse. 

It was a normal  spring afternoon during the end of the 19th century.

Flowers were blooming , birds were chirping and the air smelled like clean laundry and soap.

Winter was just a distant thought, none of them could ever imagine how everything  would irreversibly change in few months.

Moments like these would be soon turned into distant faded happy memories but for now…it was all that mattered.

#hogwarts legacy #art #hogwarts legacy art #hogwarts legacy mc #illustrators on tumblr #my ocs #oc art #artwork #illustration #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #fluff #oc x canon #sebastian sallow x reader

[wutheringcaterpillar]

hey can you write for Cillian being jealous over his wife/fiance / girlfriend who's 20 years younger after her co worker was flirting with her in a party. After they headed home they had a fight and a hate/rough/ jealousy fuck but ended up hugging eo like nothing happened because it was the first fight fuck they had and they enjoyed it

Thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: age gap (20 yr age difference), rough sex, jealousy, p in v

After finally wrapping up the movie you were filming, Cillian arrived with you to an after party in celebration held at the studio. He had been so proud of his brilliant, beautiful wife and was there to show his support.

The evening carried on quite well, the writers and producers carrying on casual conversation with Cillian and asking of his filming endeavors and what he thinks makes a script flourish and stick out with great potential to become a huge hit.

After a few drinks at the bar, he excused himself to the restroom, giving you a peck on the cheek.

That was when Jake approached you. He was around your age range, early twenties and he was a close friend of yours ever since the first of filming. It was rare he was dressed up and seeing him so was quite a breath taker, he was quite handsome.

“Hey! There’s the star!” He welcomed you with open arms into a warm hug, causing you to smile widely. You had never been complimented so much in a day and honestly it was very wonderful and made you feel appreciated, not that Cillian didn’t but it was nice to hear from co workers and strangers too.

“Did you see the scrapbook Carly made of some fun moments we had on set? She really made it for you with it being your first film an all.” When you shook your head no, Jake walked you over to the table.

Cillian exited the bathroom only to find you not where he expected you to be, spotting you over by the city view window, Jake standing next to you with his hand settled on your lowerback.

Making his way over, he could hear Jake make a comment to you about how out of all other actresses he’d worked with, you had been the best. The comment made you smile and giggle, causing a deep discomfort to settle over Cillian like an impending storm.

“Oh, honey hi! Jake was just showing me the scrapbook Carly made, so sweet of her isn’t it?” Cillian smiled and nodded pleasently, hiding the building jealousy as Jake swayed closer to you. As a man himself Cillian knew that Jake was looking at you with lustful, scheming eyes before turning his attention to him.

“You have a hell of a wife here, quite talented she is, and beautiful might I add.” Jake winked toward you, causing your cheeks to burn an amber shade of red while Cillian stood there with his eyebrows raised that this man had the audacity to make a such a motion in front of him. 

Lapping his tongue over his lip and chuckling darkly, his arm flexed behind your shoulders as a way of claiming his territory, looking Jake directly in the eyes.

“I’m well aware what I have. I feel I must inform you, your zipper’s down and you lusting over a married woman makes you look quite pathetic and desperate, guess that comes with young age and stupidity. You had her in a scene, fake might I add. I have her daily, now go check your trousers  and yourself little boy before you try hitting on my wife again. We’ll be leaving now.” Embarrassment spread over Jake’s face as he looked around the room, seeing if anyone else noticed.

Cillian grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the party as you yelled goodbyes and thank yous’ to all of your co stars.

He had never acted like this and you were more than pissed at his actions. As an actor himself he should know how to compose himself and realize that you were a grown woman who loved him and never gave him a reason to believe you’d cheat.

The car ride was silent while tensions were high. Shifting your legs, you held the position facing the window not even wanting to make eye contact with Cillian. How could he embarrass you like that? 

Meanwhile he continued driving, knuckles wrapped white and tight around the wheel, jaw clenched in anger.

Arriving home, you bursted through the door in an angered storm, lips pursed in disgust. Cillian simply scoffed, yelling behind you as you climbed the stairs to the bedroom after taking your heels off

“Did you even care that I showed up for you? Cause it looked like you were too wrapped up in Jake’s fucking flirtatious remarks to even notice I was there.” Turning around in fury, you pointed your finger, pushing his chest lightly while you stared at him with venomous eyes.

“Well maybe if my husband wasn’t an insecure little jealous bitch this all could have been avoided, but wait maybe that comes with age like you said to Jake!” Shoving you against the wall with gritted teeth, he pulled his tie off aggressively while wrapping his hand around your throat. Your head bounced back against the sturdy wall.

In a heated wave of anger, Cillian’s eyes flamed like a blue rose set on fire while your eyes bore into his skull with a lustful fury.

Clashing his lips against yours roughly breaking the tension, your hand grazed up the back of his neck pulling him in closer needing to taste him. 

He lifted you off the ground effortlessly as you fumbled with his belt never breaking your lips from his, tongues exploring one anothers, moaning in between kisses.

His cock popped out from the tailored trousers, the thick head leaking with pre cum waiting ever impatiently to be between your wet folds.

“Take me. Go on take me before I-“ Cillian silenced your smirk words with his cock unexpectedly sliding forcefully into your tight hole making you gasp.

“Not so smart now are we love?” He began to plow irelentlessly into your cunt, your breasts falling shamelessly from your dress.

He wanted you to hear you moan, to beg for more because it was only him who you belonged to, only him who could pleasure you in such a memorable way.

Spreading you over the wooden dresser, his strong hands grasped at your thighs, slamming you down onto his cock, filling you with every singular inch of his girthy member.

Something about seeing him fuck you still in his tuxedo sent a thrill up your spine, maybe you needed to argue more if the sex was going to be like this.

Pulling him down, you buried his head in your breasts, ankles tying behind his back, pushing him further inside, as far as you could.

His tongue lapsed at your cleavage before moving to your nipples, sucking like a baby needed it’s bottle, nibbling at the delicate skin.

“Fuck Cil- more!” All of a sudden, the pleasurable thrusts came to a hault. He lifted his head, whispering in your ear with sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, what was that? You need more, from me? Why should I give it to you, you have Jake.”

“Cill, please! Just fuck me you stubborn ass, you know I’m fucking yours.” That’s all he needed to hear, but the thought of Jake’s hands on you still pissed him off.

Your soaked walls clenched to him desperately, squeezing and craving for more friction, a faster pace as your orgasm was nearing closer and closer with each passing second, each power driven ram into your aching cervix.

He didn’t know his wife could be anymore hot, anymore sexy than she was right now before his very eyes.

He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your head back by your hair, causing the once well combed strands to completely fall to ruins.

Your ass bounced back against him, the jiggling motion richocheting against his skin as he pounded into you relentlessly, his cock filling every inch of your dripping cunt.

“Cil-Cil I’m going to-“ You didn’t get to finish your sentence, hands gripping desperately at the sides of the dresser while your orgasm twitched with a majestic feeling of euphoria through your body. Coming completely undone beneath your husband who never failed to ensure you came first.

When he felt the wave of your alluring nectar stream down his shaft, with one last, detrimental pound you felt his cock pulsate inside of you, the stream of his seed watering your uterus. Your moans mixing together in a harmonious end to a fight.

Cillian was like a drug you’d never, ever want to quit.

Standing up, you fixed the strap of you dress, patting the fabric down and wiping the sweat from your forehead while he pulled his pants back up in a now tired haze. 

There was an awkward silence but no further argumentative statements or yelling, like the storm has passed.

“Let’s go to bed yeah?” Nodding, you followed him to bed, curling into his side falling asleep peacefully as if nothing happened.

#cillian muphy x you #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #requested #ranaewrites

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve realizing his friends weren't the best people to hang out with. I fully believe he disassociated for some of it until Nancy came along, but he clearly told them off when they would go too far. The scene in the hallway when Jonathan was hanging up posters, Steve wasn't bullying Jonathan. Tommy and Carol were. He told them off. While he wasn't a bully (smashing Jonathan's camera was justified), I enjoyed his character growth. He did fuck up with the theater thing but he apologized and then went into the house to help. Steve saw how much Jonathan and Nancy cared for Will and Barb. I think a part of him wondered if Tommy and Carol would do all of that to help find him? Would anyone? I think that's why he went into the house. The fact that they brought up his parents being gone and that he was scared of his dad, he was jealous of Will and Barb of having someone look for them. I think that was the thump on his head he was talking about, that Nancy cared about Barb, and Jonathan cared about Will. I think Steve stopped caring for so long because his parents didn't. And as much as I want him to have good parents, I know that he probably doesn't. I just think Steve should get a lot more props for walking away from his toxic friends. Anyway, season one, Steve was so complex, and he still is.

"She's not miserable like you two, she actually cares about people!"

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington character study #steve harrington season one #yes i am talking about season one Steve again #joe keery #he did such a good job #rueleigh's thoughts #rueleigh rambles

[natt-writes]

~5 Writing tips that actually help~

(These tips are meant for fiction books, especially fantasy. so if you’re writing nonfiction a decent amount of these won’t apply to you. Sorry!)

Find your writing voice.

one of the biggest issues I find in things written by beginners is a lack of emotional connection with the narration. Sure the story can be great, but without personality, without looks into the characters minds, without little quips here and there, it really isn’t all that interesting. Something that really helped me to realize this was a book called the tragical tale of birdie bloom. It’s a kids book but it honestly has such a good narrator (and storyline tbh) that you can look past the little kiddy-ness. I recommend you check the book out if you’re looking for some inspiration. I will be making a post about how to develop your writing and character voices soon so if you want some extra help with that, stay tuned!

2. Get to know your characters.

I know that you all probably already know this, but characters are one of, if not the most important part of a book. Readers don’t want to read about a flat, boring character who just feels like a vessel for the horrifying amount of trauma you add to your story. They want to read about people that feel real, people with flaws and feelings and hobbies and backstories. When I wanted to develop my characters I started going through the drafts, the plot outlines, everything and seeing what the characters did, said, felt. Then I took their basic backstory and started lining things up. Like if a character decided to get into a fight with another character, I would see what had happened to them that might have caused this. Maybe they had been abused as a child and thought that any disagreement meant they had to fight for their life. Maybe this person reminded them of a former enemy. After you start to figure out what connects the characters to the big plot points, you can then start to develop subtle things. You could start writing something, realize this situation would have triggered a character, and then drop subtle hints towards them feeling uncomfortable. Go nuts with it, after all you can never over-analyze a character.

3. Describe things uniquely.

Descriptions are what help us to understand what’s going on in a scene. They can tell us about the tasty drink a character is enjoying, the slick dress that someone is wearing or the way a characters muscles tense when a certain someone enters the room. But sometimes descriptions a fall a bit flat and that can ruin the experience for the reader. Something I always try to remember is to try and come up with new words describe something, for example; “her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown.” Is a very basic and over used description, instead you could try; “her eyes sparkled as she sat across from me, gleaming a rich chocolate shade as the light from the candles reflected off of them”. This is a much stronger sentence as it gives both environment hits and a description of the eyes, all while staying away from overused terms. I often see this theme in stories written by beginners, things being described in a very straight forward manner. And of course this is ok once in a while, especially if this isn’t a very important topic, but it still sounds better when you branch away from that basic sentence structure. I always like to use descriptive sentences to push things forward. Here is another example; “she was wearing a fluffy green dress with lots of lace. She walked over to the door and opened it.” Vs “the lacy trim of her green dress dragged on the floor as she walked towards the door. She smiled wide as she held it open, inviting her guests into the building.” Making strong sentences is very important, so please toy around with different words, structures, etc, until the sentence fits the type of book you’re trying to write.

4. Make trauma realistic.

Yes, even if you’re writing a fantasy book, characters experiences have to be realistic. Something that always gets on my nerves is when writers come up with a good idea for some trauma, so they just give to a character, even when it doesn’t suit them at all. if you are going to give a character trauma you need to explain it, set it up so it actually fits into their character arc, then have the character actually be affected by it. They can’t just randomly be like “I got shot by a dude.” And that’s it if there is no way that character could have gotten shot given their life experiences. Also if you want a character to be relatively unaffected after an extremely traumatic event you have to plan it out so that they have a specific and consistent trauma response that makes them not react shortly after an event like that. Characters are supposed to be like people, and no two people react to trauma the same way, so you do have some leeway if necessary, but people also don’t just stay the same after something horrible happens, they are affected by it and that has to be accurately portrayed. This does get easier the more you get to know the characters though, as soon you will know how they react to things and how to plan trauma that suits them.

5. Make a plot outline.

I cannot stress this enough, make a plot outline. Making a plot outline literally saved my book, and they are really easy to make! I recommend you download a spreadsheet app like XL spreadsheets or Apple numbers but you could even use google docs if you want. You want to put in all the chapters and then give each chapter at least six spots to write scenes. Add a spot for adding the main event of the chapter/a summery of what you have to write. This will help you to understand what you have to write for that chapter and how it fits into the next chapter. After that you start to fill all the scene boxes in with your plot information. Having a plot outline is great as it can be super vague and messy, but still hold all your ideas. It also helps to prevent unnecessary rewrites later, as you can just edit the plot outline before you start writing the first draft. You can even make a plot outline after you’ve started writing your book. That’s what I did and I promise, it still is very helpful. (Example of a plot outline below.)

#writers on tumblr #writing #novel writing #writing tips #tips #writer stuff #writer #writeblr #writing prompts #writer problems #writers and poets #writerscommunity #female writers #writing prompt #fantasy novel #fantasy #whump #writer things #writerscreed #ao3 writer #whump ideas #lgbtq #lgbtq books

[star-born-mars]

Coming Home to You

Introspective!Jason comes home from a rough night of being the Red Hood.

TW: implied sexual content (sort of), mentions of blood, gore, Jason typical violence, and nudity, lots of swearing.

If I need to add anything, please let me know.

Despite what the Bats might think, Jason doesn't usually enjoy killing the people that he does. He doesn't enjoy having to shower blood and gore off before he hits the hay at the end of the night. He doesn't enjoy having to wash his cloths multiple times or in some cases just throw them out when the stains won't come out.

He doesn't get off on the way grown, prison-hardened, Gotham grime-coated men start pissing themselves when the sound of his boots hitting concrete reaches their ears.

He doesn't enjoy the way they beg him for their lives. The way that they get on their knees and plead, like Jason did when he was stuck in that warehouse, far from home, and far from anyone who cared about what happened to him.

It's something Jason thought about on nights like this, where he trudged to the nearest safe house in his rotation, hands soaked up to his elbow in blood and other questionable gore, clothes destined for a burner, and something broken inside him being pressed on by a weight, a weight that Jason could never find the origin of.

He trudged up into the apartment, nudging the door shut with the least bloody body part he had, unstrapping his armor.

He'd just gotten his chest plate off when the Pit started pinging in his head like some malignant radar.

It was something he had gotten better at ignoring the longer it had been in his head, but tonight had pressed just a little too much weight on whatever was broken inside of him.

It's the only reason he had for the gun he whipped out and cocked, aimed right at her head, right in between those pretty brown eyes that Jason had remembered even when he was catatonic in the League.

"Rough night?" she asked, curled up in one of his sweaters with a book in her hand, long bare legs draped over the arm of the chair.

The only reason Jason didn't drop his gun was pure instinct and reflex.

"Fucking shit, doll," Jason snapped as he dropped it to his side again, "I was gonna fucking shoot you."

She hummed, like she didn't really believe him, setting the book on the coffee table and swinging her legs back in front of her so she could stand.

His sweater fell off one shoulder and covered the shorts she was wearing. She looked like something out a movie or a novel, not someone who should have had anything to do with a man like Jason.

"I trust you," she told him, walking over to stand right in front of him, seemingly ignoring the murder scene all over him. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Clothes are one thing, but there's no fucking way you're getting in bed with me like that."

Jason huffed a laugh, which was about as much as he could muster at the moment.

"Jay," she murmured. "Come on, shower, then bed. I have a meeting at ten and I'd like to get some sleep. Preferably with you in bed with me."

Normally, Jason would've made a comment, would've said something flirty or dickish, but he didn't have it in him tonight.

"Okay doll," he agreed. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

"I know," she said. "I want to. I like knowing that I'm the first thing you see when you get home. I also like knowing that you're safe and unharmed."

Jason was pretty sure that he had never done anything to deserve that. He told her as much.

"There are very few categories in life where I believe in things like 'deserving', baby. I chose you, all those years ago, and I still choose you every day. I love you, Jason. It's not about deserving or being worthy, it's about the choices we make. And right now, your choices are getting in the shower or sleeping on the floor."

"You gonna be in the shower with me?" Jason asked.

"I can be. Depending on when you get that cute ass in the shower," she told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jason, knowing that she really did have a meeting in the morning, knowing that he would sleep better with her in the bed, got his 'cute ass' in the shower.

A/N: Should I be writing the three essays that I have due at the end of this week? Yes. Will I be doing that? No. Why? I have Jason Todd Brain Rot. Again.

#jason my beloved #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #jason todd #reader #idk how to tag this #what even is this #i have finals shit i need to do #fuck my life #dark jason todd #kind of? #maybe?

[kittyminion]

An Eye for a Finger (Series, Part One)

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!OC

explicit, 18+, violence, dubious children

summary: Vysella Velaryon lost her fingers because of him, Aemond Targaryen lost an eye because of her, but why can’t they stay away from each other? It becomes even more impossible once they are to be married….

word count: 2.3K

a/n: first fic yayyyy, hope you all enjoy this plus it’s been sitting in my drafts since feb. love vysella and I hope you all do too <333

series masterlist here

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

At the ripe age of nine, Vysella Velaryon was a grim little thing. No smile had ever covered her face, unless she found something extremely funny and nothing usually was in a place like Westeros.

Full of dragons, death, and maliciousness, she had nothing to smile for.

Especially being the youngest child of Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon. Vysella was constantly left out of conversations, teased by her older siblings who had been adults for years upon years. Vysella had been on Driftmark alone ever since she was two years old—her brother too busy with his wife Princess Rhaenyra and Laena off in Pentos with her husband Prince Daemon.

Besides that, being the youngest did have its advantages: even when everyone else thought she wasn’t paying attention, she was. For example now as she watched her mother scream and cry her lungs out. Laena was dead, at the flame of her own dragon no less. Vysella felt tears pricking her eyes as she watched her brother wrap his arms around the white-haired beauty, but the youngest Velaryon continued hiding behind the curtains.

All of a sudden, someone snatched her arm, throwing her into the air and eliciting a scream. She didn’t stop screaming until she saw Prince Daemon, a mischievous look in his violet eyes and she huffed, “Daemon, what did you do that for?”

Daemon raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, “Prince Daemon.” “You shouldn’t see your mother that way.” He grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the scene and down the hall to where the other Velaryon and Targaryen children were.

Daemon was Vysellas favorite cousin, and he was the only one to know it. He kept things true with her, no sugarcoating or lies, which is all she ever wanted from the others. “Did you try to save my sister?” Vysella questioned in High Valyrian her eyes staring at Prince Daemon, unwavering, even when he bristled and gave her a weak glare.

“Why would you ask that, little one? Of course I tried to save her.” “You’re lying. If what my father said is true, then you just watched as she was burnt to a crisp by Vhagar.” Daemon didn’t get angry at the nine year olds accusations, and instead, he hooked his hands under her armpits and placed her in the nearest seat, which happened to be in the sitting area where the other children were.

Rhaena and Baela were sitting near Princess Rhaenyra as she spoke lightly, her eyes focusing on not only them, but her younger sons, Lucerys and Jacaerys, who were both mourning the loss of the Strongs. “My love, come here.” Rhaenyra whispered, waving towards Vysella and she spared Daemon no glance as she walked over to her other favorite cousin and sat next to the others.

“How are you feeling?” Vysella shrugged, already pulling Baela and Rhaena into hugs, enough to give them some of her courage. “What will happen to Vhagar?” She said changing the subject quickly because she could feel tears pooling in her eyes.

Of course the ever observant Rhaenyra noticed and she brushed a finger over the child's cheeks. “Little Rhaena will claim her soon. Isn’t that right, love?” Rhaena nodded, looking at her father then squeezing Vysellas hand. “And what of your dragon, Vysella?” Daemon sat on the arm of Rhaenyra’s chair.

“Onyx is well, cousin.” Rhaenyra chuckled at Vysellas cold tone, “what have you done to the child now?” Before he could respond, Corlys, Rhaenys, and Laenor walked in. Vysella stood and ran over to her father who picked her up and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“The King has arrived, along with the other guests.”

The funeral was just as unbearable as Vysella expected it to be. The Velaryons and Targaryens were standing in front of Laena’s casket, each of them holding their own form of sadness on their face. All but Aemond and Aegon Targaryen. Vysella glared at the young princes, her hands clenched at her sides as they shoved each other.

Queen Alicent, another person Vysella wasn’t too fond of, glared at the boys until they stilled and eventually, Aegon opened his mouth, “even Vysella had a dragon and she’s a year younger than you.” Aemonds eyes locked onto Vysella’s and he muttered something, still watching Vysella. “I’m surprised a dragon even wants to be claimed by her. She never smiles.”

Vysella smiled sarcastically just to creep Aemond out and when he finally looked away, she smiled genuinely, but it quickly fell as Vaemond, her uncle, began his High Valyrian speech. Vysella found pride as she was the only of the children who could understand the language, mostly because her parents taught her.

Daemon, not as close to his daughters, only taught them certain phrases, and Rhaenyra’s sons didn’t have a good grasp on it either.

“Salt courses through Velaryon blood. Ours runs thick. Ours run true.” The atmosphere around the two families became tense as Vaemond gave Rhaenyra an accusatory glance, while King Viserys watched the two, his eyes barely straying to his daughter's brunette children.

Of course Vysella, among most people, knew Luke and Jace weren’t her brother's children, but she also was smart enough to understand that calling them bastards was treasonous. Luke and Jace were her nephews and although they didn’t spend much time together, she still cared for them.

Daemon suddenly chuckled and everyone glanced at him, but he continued to smirk, eyes watching his shoes. Peculiar man, Vysella thought.

As Laena Velaryons casket was dropped into the ocean, Vysella pressed herself into her mothers side, allowing the postponed tears to finally slide down her cheeks and stain her black mourning dress. “She’s gone, my sweet. But we shall never forget her.” Rhaenys muttered to her granddaughters and her daughter.

As the dragons flew in the air, everyone gathered on the balcony, each of them either talking about Laena or mumbling about things that Vysella thought didn’t matter. She leaned against the walls of the balcony, eyes watching Onyx, her dragon, flying through the air, matching her riders restlessness.

Vysella looked over to Jace and her nieces, who were attempting to comfort each other, while Luke was talking to her father about the inheritance of Driftmark. Vysella thought it was all bullshit. With Laenor the future King Consort, she was the last Velaryon child, but of course, women weren’t the ‘natural’ inheritors, so she was stuck, knowing her future was to be married off to a power hungry man.

People like Aegon and Aemond Targaryen were lucky. They had no one to reprimand them or take their birthrights, plus, they were male. Speaking of, Aemond appeared next to her, his white hair pulled back. “You smiled earlier. Was it real?”

Vysella shrugged, “did you think it was real? Would I really smile during my sister's funeral?” Aemond glared at her tone, “you should be lucky your brother is still alive. We all know who he lays with at night.”

Vysella shoved Aemond, grabbing the hem of his shirt, but he was taller and he pushed her onto the ground, “you shouldn’t put your hands on the prince!” He spat and she stood up, “I won’t when you finally gain a dragon!” Vysella raised her fist to punch him in the eye but Daemon grabbed her.

“Vysella, we shouldn’t anger the Hightowers.” Aemond sneered at the man, “I’m a Targaryen!” “I can’t tell. Wearing green and with no dragon.” Vysella remarked and Aemond’s fists shook with anger, but with one glance at Daemon, he stormed away.

Daemon kneeled in front of the nine year old, hands on her shoulders. “We shouldn’t be so quick to anger.” “As if you didn’t laugh during the funeral, Daemon. Aemond made accusations of my brother!”

“And what were these accusations?”

“He said we all know who he lays with at night. What does that mean?” Daemon’s permanent smirk fell and he shrugged, “nothing you should entertain. Go to your mother, I think she is looking for you.”

That night, eight pounding feet ran into Vysellas room. She woke up startled as Jace shook her shoulder, “Vysella, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!” Vysella muttered incoherent words then finally got out of bed, “how did the biggest dragon in the world get stolen?”

“Just come on!” Baela grabbed her hands and all five of them ran into the foyer, where Aemond walked in, his face dirty with dirt while his green cloak was on the ground next to him. “It’s him.” Baela said, tugging Vysella forward who was still drowsy with sleep, but when she saw Aemond, a sudden energy overtook her and she walked forward, “it’s me.” Aemond replied easily, walking closer until Vysella and him were chest to chest.

“Vhagar is my mothers dragon!” “Your mother is dead.” He continued to stare down at Vysella, but she kept her chin raised, exhaling shakily at his reply. “Vhagar has a new rider now.” His eyes buzzed with smugness and he pushed past Vysella. She reached out to grab his sleeve, but he pushed her away, enough that she stumbled on her feet but didn’t fall.

“Vhagar was mine to claim,” Rhaena said but Aemond retorted quickly to that, “maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride, it would suit you.” Rhaena suddenly came forward, grabbing Aemond’s shoulders to wrench him to the ground, but Aemond pushed her easily.

Vysella attempted to help Rhaena up, but before she knew it, Aemond had punched Baela in the face. Vysella fisted Aemond's hair and pulled him away from her nieces then punched him in the mouth. But then, Aemond clawed at her face and straddled her, delivering two solid punches to her face.

Jace pulled Aemond away and punched him in the throat but was ultimately put on his ass along with his younger brother. Vysella was bamboozled on how good of a fighter Aemond was. Eventually, all of them, excluding a bleeding Luke, got up and started to pummel Aemond, each of them hitting him in the face until his lip and nose were dripping beads of blood.

Aemond kicked Jace in the crotch, pushed both of Daemon's daughters then finally, not only spat in Vysella’s face but slammed her head onto the ground. Luke had finally gotten up and ran stupidly towards Aemond, but was quickly subdued.

Suddenly, Aemond picked up a rock and aimed it at Lukes face but didn’t put it to use. “You will die screaming in flames just as your father did,” Aemond glared at Vysella as he said, “Bastards.”

“My fathers still alive,” Luke cried and Vysella dizzily watched Aemond continue to insult the two, then Jace pulled out a knife. She dragged herself off the ground and kicked Aemond’s leg out and he fell to the ground. Jace shot towards Aemond, knife raised, but the Green boy kicked Jace away and the knife fell to the ground.

Vysella wrapped her hands around Aemonds throat, glaring down at him, “I will happily smile as you die, Hightower.” But before she knew it, Aemond had retrieved the fallen knife, pressed it to her hands around his neck and sliced not one, but two of her fingers off.

The Velaryon girl fell unconscious shortly thereafter.

Daemon was holding the girl when she awoke. And as soon as she saw the severed ring and pinky finger on her left hand, her eyes immediately locked on Aemond.

But he had lost something too.

“What is the meaning of this?” Corlys busted in the room, eyes searching wildly until they landed on his daughter. When he saw her clutching her bandaged but bloodied hand, he practically lost it. Rhaenys pulled Vysella out of Daemon’s arms, “Baela, Rhaena, what happened?”

Rhaenyra came in shortly after and the arguing ensued but all Vysella could focus on was One Eyed Aemond as the maester stitched up his deep cut. Everyone wondered why the girl wasn’t crying but instead staring hatefully at Aemond.

“And what of my daughter? She has lost two fingers!” Rhaenys spat, still clutching onto her hand. King Viserys, after demanding silence, focused his attention on the Velaryon girl, “tell me the truth, Vysella.”

“Aemond cut off my fingers, called Luke and Jace bastards and stole Vhagar. The Queen shouldn’t be so hasty to be angry over her son's lost eye when I’ve lost something too. Not everything is about him.”

Alicent stared at the girl with a lick of surprise, deflating slightly, “Viserys, your son was attacked.”

“It was a regrettable accident.” “Accident? The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush, he meant to kill my son.” Alicent looked dreadfully at the King, but he spun around, focused on the door. “It was my son’s who were attacked! Not to mention Vysella who lost two fingers.”

The lot of them continued to argue, until Viserys questioned his sons on where they heard the rumors. Eventually, Alicent stole Viserys blade, tears running down her face, and she walked towards Rhaenyra, determined to exact her revenge.

But Vysella had expected this so she stood up, the others focused on Alicent and Rhaenyra, and she walked towards Aemond, her nephews screaming in the background. “How does it feel to have lost an eye?” Vysella questioned the prince and he glared at her, “how does it feel to have lost two fingers?”

The two were focused on eachother, not the violent scene occurring.

“Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be a princess or perhaps a prince.” Vysella kneeled next to his chair, eyes staring into his, “but I see it is just a bunch of eyes focused on someone who doesn’t deserve it. One day, I will take not two, but all of your fingers. I will laugh and smile as everyone in your life turns their back on a useless, fingerless, one eyed thing such as you.”

#aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #explict #18+ content #fanfic #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #fire and blood #dragons #aemond targaryen #daemon targeryan #oc #ewan mitchell #hbo max #hotd #hotd aemond

[twinsunstars]

Behind-the-Scenes Interviews (Part 14) Question: What was your experience with Batcher on set? Omega: Batcher is so fun to be around, she loves to play with me. She is a good actor too. She understands when we need to be serious and follows directions while we are filming. She can get a little hyper sometimes when she’s excited, and she’s always giving a smile to everyone on set. Crosshair: She’s become my hound on-screen, always watching out for me and making sure that I am doing okay. Batcher can become more playful especially when we really need to get some scenes filmed, and she knows how to make sure everyone is doing okay, giving us that needed comfort. Hunter: I was seen interacting with Batcher on-screen once so far, but she loved hanging out around everyone. Ever since we were told that we were going to have a hound with us this season, I was excited to have Batcher around, and she loves to take naps with me on set. Wrecker: Batcher always curls up around me and asks for pets, which I love giving her as much as she wants. I always thought about having a dog, and I would adopt Batcher, I might just if I can. I spoil her a lot with treats, and I often practice stunts with her. Echo: She’s a well-behaved girl. She likes to pounce onto me and lick my face, and I enjoy playing a good game of fetch with her. Batcher is well trained and she loves practicing her scenes, even if it is just Batcher being herself most of the time. Phee: I got to meet her for a bit, and she is the sweetest. I did bring her a lot of treats and some toys, which she enjoyed getting, and Batcher loves the attention she gets from everyone on set. Lyana: She reminds me a lot of my own dog. Every time I get to play with Batcher when I’m with Omega, I feel like I’m back at home playing fetch with my pet. She loves to run around with me and Omega on set. Emerie: I didn’t get to interact with her much, but she loves to get a lot of pets from me. She often nuzzles around my legs, and I enjoy giving her treats. Whenever I play with Omega, Batcher likes to join in, and she’s always barking happily. Everyone loves her. Hemlock: I was mainly with her behind the scenes more since I'm seen as someone who doesn't care for the hounds on screen, but she’s a good girl. Something she likes to do a lot is sneak up on me and try to scare me, she does this with almost everyone but with me a lot. Whenever I notice, she gets a little upset, so I pretend I don’t see her and get scared when she barks and pounces on me, and she’s fun to be around.

part of my Bad Batch Season 3 Actors/Behind The Scenes Incorrect Quotes series!

The Bad Batch Season 3 Actors/Behind the Scenes Incorrect Quotes Masterlist

#everyone loves batcher #star wars #actors au #tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #sw tbb #the bad batch spoilers #tbb s3 #the bad batch omega #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch echo #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch wrecker #phee genoa #lyana hazard #emerie karr #royce hemlock #star wars the bad batch #bad batch

[davenweenie]

Things I would have done if I had created the show ‘Lab Rats’

FTM trans Chase (obvi)

Autistic Leo and Chase

ADHD Adam and Bree

Brought more focus onto why Donald Davenport was a shitty dad, maybe has character development where he realised how bad he actually was.

Douglas would still be evil but his motives would have been slightly different, he’s hiding under the guise of trying to take power over the world when he actually just wants his kids back.

Trans Douglas, hello????

Trans Douglas who used a donor to have Adam, Bree and Chase (makes more sense than him using a random AFAB person tbh)

Explore how the Rats’ bionics actually work, where they actually have their bionics, how they were implanted, if there were any failed subjects etc

Bree would originally be a tomboy who wants to explore her girlhood but has never had the chance to due to being so sheltered and only raised around boys and raised by a man

She slowly started exploring girlhood, Tasha helps by showing her media that heavily features women, they have a shopping trip where Tasha helps her pick out new outfits

Bree slowly transitions into being a more ‘girly’ girl when she discovers how much she actually enjoys doing and wearing what is traditionally considered more feminine

Chase struggling when they all integrate into the real world, he struggles with his masculinity and how the world views him since things were so much easier when it was just him, his two siblings and their pseudo father

Chase’s insane sensory issues, I’d like to believe he walks around constantly wearing a pair of noise cancelling headphones that Leo let him have

They eventually make him some bionic versions which help block out most noises since his super hearing is too strong for normal noise cancelling headphones

He looks a lil silly but they help, so he continues to wear them on days where he’s really struggling

Adam struggling in school, he cannot function well during school, he’s always frustrated in class because he just can’t retain any of the information and he zones out too much to even focus properly

Chase tries to help by tutoring him but Adam can’t focus long enough for it to have an affect

Chase researches ways to help Adam retain information and figures out that playing catch with Adam helps, the action of tossing and catching a ball occupies his hands as well as keeps his brain in gear enough to focus on the information given to him

Leo having meltdowns during the whole Marcus situation. He hates being accused of lying or accused of doing stuff that he didn’t do. He also hates people not believing him so the whole situation overwhelms him and he ends up having a meltdown practically every day.

Exploring how Trent’s bullying has affected Leo and Chase, how they’re terrified to step foot into school some days in fear of what Trent will do that day

Tasha being completely mortified at the way the Rats were raised, demanding that Donald treat them like kids rather than a science experiment

She considers divorcing him at first but she knows she needs to be there for the kids. They eventually work out their relationship and Donald begins to change he treats the Rats, he’s probably only changing because of Tasha though

Big reveal on why Donald is the way he is towards the kids, they’re not his kids and they’re his brother’s who he doesn’t have a good relationship with, he takes it out on the kids because his brother isn’t there to take his anger out on

The Rats being mad at Donald, huge argument scene where they finally stand up for themselves and tell him that having a poor relationship with his brother was no excuse to treat them the way he did, they were just kids who didn’t have any involvement in their sibling rivalry

Donald becomes a cool uncle rather than extremely strict and controlling father. Douglas becomes more like a cool dad than a cool uncle, he’s too irresponsible to have full control of the decision making so him, Donald and Tasha kinda just Co-parent.

Leo gets full bionics, not just in his leg and arm. He has to train as a student at the academy first but later becomes a teacher like Adam, Bree and Chase.

Bree and Chase still go on to be in the EF but it’s only brief while they handle the whole shapeshifter thing before they go back to the academy. Oliver, Skylar and Kaz go with them. They’re still a team that do missions together but they just live at the academy now.

This was very self indulgent, I hope you like it. Thanks for reading and I’ll probably make more of these. This was fun!

#lab rats #chase davenport #adam davenport #bree davenport #leo dooley #donald davenport #lab rats elite force #elite force #tasha davenport #douglas davenport #lab rats headcanon #disney lab rats

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

So I actually really enjoyed the little HB short with Millie and Sallie Mae.

I thought it was cute and it was breath of fresh spring air to get some scenes with JUST woman characters interacting and talking about their relationship.

That said, after watching, it just made me realize how much I want an ACTUAL episode exploring Millie and her background.

At the end of the short we get that brief conversation about Sallie Mae seeming to feel left behind when Millie moved to the city, and that honestly should have been the plot of the harvest moon festival imo.

Little reimagining of how Harvest Moon Festival could have used the basic premise/conflict in Hell’s Belles to develope Millie more and give us a better insight into her character. (Also after typing all of this out I realized I misspelled Sallie May’s name, and I’m too tired to go back and fix it please do not bully me rip 😭🪦)

So, Instead of having Moxxie compete with striker, what if we’d learned that Millie left home because she had an inferiority complex due to constantly being compared to Sally Mae, who could be the “golden child” of the family.

Maybe Sally Mae and Millie have always had a really fierce sibling rivalry, and Millie has struggled a lot with measuring up to her sister.

Striker could be not only the new farmhand, but Sally Mae’s new boyfriend. Instead of the conflict being Moxxie’s feelings of inferiority to Striker, further tension could come from Millie being upset that her parents are so accepting of Sally Mae’s partner while not approving of her’s.

Millie could be the one to find Striker’s assassin gear, and Striker manages to knock her out like he did Moxxie. Instead of Moxxie stabbing Striker like Millie did in the actual episode, it’s Sally Mae who catches Striker and stabs him to try and save her sister. The way this could be set up could also be a nice establishing character moment for Sally Mae—she’s dating Striker, but the moment she sees her sister in danger she doesn’t hesitate to try and save her sister.

Striker throws Sallie Mae and Millie into the basement, and Sallie Mae is the one to get her leg in the bear trap.

They have a sister heart to heart, where Millie expresses her frustration for not being able to take Striker out on her own and feeling like she’s always been in Sallie Mae’s shadow.

Sallie Mae could then reveal that she’s always been jealous of Millie for being her own person and going against their parent’s wishes by striking out on her own moving to Imp City. Maybe Sally Mae has always been afraid of disappointing their parents, but wishes she could also leave the farm. Or Idk, maybe she’s always been the “golden child” because she’s been trying to impress Millie, and not their parents, because she admires her sister. There’s a lot of different sibling rivalry/insecurity conflicts and dynamics that could be used here.

The main point is that they come to an understanding in the basement, Sallie Mae gives Millie a pep talk and lets her know that she can do this and take down Striker.

Millie escapes the basement and the episode plays out like it does in the actual show. Instead of Millie getting talked down to her parents at the end, it’s Sally Mae, and when they criticize Sally Mae for getting hurt and try to praise Millie for getting out of the basement and chasing Striker away with Blitzø, Millie stands up for herself and her sister, stopping her parents from pitting the siblings against each other like they did in the past.

The sisters leave on good terms and the day is saved or whatever. They hug goodbye, and promise to stay in touch more and visit soon.

This could potentially help set up the idea of Millie having an inferiority complex and struggling with not believing she’s important that, in my opinion, comes out of absolutely nowhere in “Unhappy Campers”. If it’s established early that Millie has always struggled with feeling less-than in comparison to Sallie Mae and her siblings, it makes a lot more sense that she’d be so excited with the attention she receives in Unhappy Campers. And that she’d be extra upset by Moxxie’s lack of support.

Also for anyone asking “what about moxxie” idk. helluva boss loves their b and c plots so maybe there could be a slapstick bit where Millie’s brothers keep trying to wrestle Moxxie, so Moxxie is always hiding from them or getting tackled by them. Or maybe Moxxie could be really excited to try and bond with Millie’s family and get to know them more, so he keeps trying to connect with them in different awkward ways. Whatever. This is Millie’s episode now, I don’t care what moxxie does.

This is a very very basic re-imagining, and it’s definitely been done before and can be cliche. I want to make it really really clear that I’m NOT writing this out as a “fix-it”.

More of just a “what-if” and wishing about what may have been in terms of Millie getting more character development in the show proper, instead of getting a tiny bit of development and background info in a 5 minute short.

It’s just a shame because I’d love to have more concrete development for Millie. The short gave us a LITTLE insight into her and Sallie May’s characters, but it feels like we’re still being given crumbs about who Millie is as a character after a season and a half.

We should know more about her by now other than “likes violence/is good at fighting” and “is cheerful”. And also feels unimportant sometimes even thought she’d never given any indication that she’d ever struggled with that before.

Also I don’t think the voice direction for Sally Mae was done well. I liked her voice in “Harvest Moon” but it felt like the voice actress was struggling with keeping the southern accent in tact + sounding natural.

Overall, I did really like the short, but it also made me kind of sad for what could have been in terms of giving Millie more of the spotlight.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva millie #Millie #helluva boss millie #sallie may #sallie may helluva boss #helluva sallie may

[silver-wield]

Stygian pisses me off. Along people like her who say wishy washy stuff like "at most he probably thought she attractive he not blind, probably has fleeting feelings but those are bland compared to his feelings for tifa" where? Where are those?! Some talk about bro code but even before the whole Zack thing, he's already so mean in costa del sol. He's already Disgusted at the idea of a "couple gondola event". He's already mean in Remake even after that Cursed resolution. In fact it was after the whole Zack bit that he started trying to be kinder and more tolerating. It's No bro code, that concept was Never a thing he thought of. Do you know what he thought of? He DIDN'T think "oh zack gf, i should back away" , rather it was "oh zack gf, I should be more kinder because everything Zack cares about I care about as well". I bet he was super guilty and saddened about not remembering Zack and not telling his parents what's up. He Loves Zack third to Tifa and Claudia. aerith isn't even close enough to the list, heck he was more cool with barret and yuffie. He hit it off with yuffie so easily and they just met!, she can even understand his perverted tendencies about Tifa. Something not all of them see. Actually it might just be her who knows lol.

Anyway, these Statements Don't hold up and will contradict because it's Not canon. I just don't understand how they see these things that Never existed? Did they play the game? Did we play the same game? I don't understand why even entertain this? Do they Not understand the material given to them? Why are they even here? There is so much about FF7, and "ltd" Doesn't even exist. It's all in their head that Only loves to argue but stray away from canon and factual evidences.

Every time i hear them talk about him and his pov about aerith, it just makes me get turned off of him and want to Never support ct. Heck, I'd be the #1 to fight against it. I'm starting to wonder if they even like tifa, cloud or even this IP. Nojima didn't write him this way for them to downgrade and water down his character and his story and feelings about tifa.

This guy NEVER wavered. And while I think aerith was only saying what she said in her resolution as a sign she Never understood him at all (creepy date was Very Clear he Doesn't see Nor will ever see her that way, yet she missed this lol) and was indeed only talking to herself. All these so called "attraction/ fleeting feelings" some think AREN'T REAL, IT'S NEVER THERE. It's all in your imagination and you have to ask if they even enjoy FF7, tifa, cloud and ct to begin with. Or do they wanna hop onto c /a's train that if zack and tifa didn't exist this that wtvr despite Nojima writing about how these characters are Totally Incompatible in ALL levels.

Srry for the rant. I'm just so Sick of this wishy washy attitude. I think FF7 fans are so lucky to have so much material to fight against these but some ignore them. If this was a real debate, they've lost immediately. You deal with evidence and canon as support. Not use essays, what ifs , and half assed assertions such as those. It just sounds like they're afraid of being wrong. But foolishly they already are. Credibility goes down Immediately.

I understand that frustration when clotis make Aerith apologist comments that encourage dumbasses because they'll use it as a talking point to say "even clotis think Cloud was attracted to her!!!!" which is why I take myself away from those kinds of discussions because it's bullshit and I don't wanna argue with moots.

Before we had the material ulti plus scene showing that Cloud literally didn't recognise Aerith in her red dress a lot of us went "well he's male and she's dressed up 🤷" but then we got the scenario and the script that showed he literally didn't know it was even her and he was just surprised some random woman is walking towards him with a red carpet being rolled out and shit.

And then with the swimsuits, he isn't even looking at Aerith. He glances at her face then immediately checks out Tifa and we get that in the first person pov, so we see exactly where he's looking. Then he gets all shy and stammers, and they flirt. But, even when Aerith also matches he doesn't reply to her saying she needs help with the sunscreen, so he avoids her flirtation. He also constantly shows and tells her that he isn't happy with her yanking him around and calling everything a date.

So, given the literal evidence, no cloti should still be going around saying he finds her attractive. He clearly doesn't.

And idky we must have Cloud seeing her as attractive or being attracted just because she's a woman. She ain't pretty. That's not just me saying it. That's literally what we've been told throughout the games. She was called homely in wall market, Zack said she's only pretty from certain angles, nobody compliments her looks or style, and yet we're supposed to believe that the man who is panting after Tifa Lockhart, who is literally described as a bombshell, would also find someone subpar attractive and be interested in that because he's a man.

That's a pretty shitty way to view Cloud.

#final fantasy 7 remake #ff7r #ffviir #final fantasy 7r #final fantasy viir #cloud strife

[mayasdeluca]

STATION 19 7x03: 'True Colors'

#station19edit #station 19 #maya bishop #andy herrera #travis montgomery #mine #maya 'i don't take days off' bishop did not hesitate to leave...you love to see it #i loved peter's shot of just maya and travis at the beginning of the scene #and then the small detail of travis saying he's got maya's bowl when she leaves #i did enjoy this scene but i just want to know when she will have these kinds of conversations with her wife #because it rarely happens #what are the chances she brings up mason to carina next episode on a scale from 0 to -100?? sigh

[finnpeach]

Hunt

(T/HRONE OF GLAS$ SPOILERS AHEAD! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PAST Q/UEEN OF SHADOW$ BE WARNED!)

My love for R/owan is boundless, and the series would be infinitely better if he was sick.

This is a multi-part fic of A/elin and R/owan training on a mountain and YEAH! HE HAS A COLD!

not much sneezing yet but it will come I promise

likes comments reblogs always loved and giggled over <3

****

Aelin stalks through the underbrush with lethal silence. Leaves covered with dew from the early morning mist streak across her face, dotting her cheeks. Her prey, a mountain hare the size of her head, nibbles on the sparse grass a few yards away.

She knocks her arrow, slipping in a breath. She can’t wait to see the look on Rowan’s face when she brings back a hare this size. Slowly, she pulls the bowstring back, kissing against her face. The hare turns, startled, breaths coming fast. Now or never–

“hh’rZzSHHh’uh!” 

Aelin gasps at the sound that echoes around the mountain. It cracks like a whip, scaring even the crows nesting in trees. The hare takes off and she desperately releases the arrow after her prey. The point finds its home in the thick trunk of a tree rather than the soft neck of the hare.

There goes breakfast. Her stomach growls pitifully. Seething, she rises from the brush and goes to retrieve her arrow. 

Five minutes later, Aelin stalks back to the makeshift camp she and Rowan had assembled the night before. The Fae prince had forced her to run from the castle to these distant mountains, shifting in and out of her Fae form to master control, where he then informed her they would be camping for a week out in the elements. And she was to hunt their every meal in between training.

It was a pathetic time, especially with the rain that has settled across the mountain. Damp and cold to her bones, Aelin approaches their campsite. Rowan, appearing much drier than she, sits by the fire she had sparked earlier that morning. He looks oddly run down, like he hadn’t slept much the night before.

Aelin is sure he hadn’t. The mountains were too misty to sleep outside without waking up damp, so they had packed just one tent to keep their baggage light. Lying beside Rowan, last night she had been the private audience to his tossing and turning, grumbling, and finally his snoring. 

“You fucking bastard. You scared off breakfast,” she hisses as she approaches, throwing her bow and bundle of arrows down by the tent. Rowan does not look up from the dagger he cleans in his hands.

“And how – snf! – pray tell, did I scare breakfast from here?” He grumbles. Aelin catches the way he sniffles thickly, his nostrils twitching up with the force of it.

She drops her satchel, full of only a bundle of pathetic berries.  “You sneezed.” She tries not to give in the warmth that pools in her lower stomach at the memory of the sound. It’s the first time she had ever heard him sneeze, and she was not disappointed. “For someone so keen on silence, I expected you’d know how to sneeze more quietly.”

Rowan doesn’t even grace her taunting with a reply, or a snarl. He just continues rubbing a cloth down the length of his dagger. Strange. He must be feeling really tired if he didn’t bother to punish her for such a remark. 

She sits down across from the fire, on a log they’d rolled over so they didn’t sit on wet grass. Feigning interest in destemming the berries she’d picked, she studies him through the crackling flames. 

His white hair is loose around his shoulders, creating a curtain that shields the dark tattoo running along his tan face. The tips of his Fae ears poke out just behind the white strands. After weeks of training with him, sleeping out in the elements beside him, she’s learned that he prefers to tie his hair up. It’s so rare to see him with it down.

“More hand to hand combat training today, or magic training?” She asks, breaking the silence that is only marred by the crackling flames.

Rowan sets the dagger aside. “Your job was to hunt. And since you still haven’t caught anything, your job is still to hunt.” He settles his sharp green eyes on her, brows set. If he didn’t piss her off so much, she might actually tremble under his gaze.

She raises her palms in defeat. “Fine, fine. But if you sneeze and scare off my prey again, I won’t be sharing the catch with you.” Even if she’d very much like for him to sneeze again, she’d rather eat first.

In one swoop, she picks up her bow and arrows and satchel again before setting off. With her Fae senses, she could scent a herd of deer in the southwest. Now that would show Rowan. Perhaps she’d bring back a buck, and spear him with its antlers.

As soon as she leaves the camp, nearly out of earshot, she hears the same thunderstrike from before. Perhaps Rowan had been waiting for her to leave.

“hhzjHSHHhieWw!”

A shiver runs down her spine as more startled crows caw in the trees.

****

Two hours later, Aelin returns with a small doe slung across her shoulders.

It’s mid afternoon. She had been lucky a herd was still grazing so late in the morning down by the clearing. She’d been even luckier that Rowan had either gotten his sneezing under control, or learned how to be quiet, because nothing had startled her catch this time.

“Lunch,” she declares to Rowan, dropping the deer to the grass. He hasn’t moved from his spot by the fire. “Is served.”

“It was supposed to be– snf! Breakfast,” he mutters, reaching the dagger at his side from earlier. His voice sounds dulled, like he’s congested.

Aelin rolls her eyes. “Well, it’s not like you helped. And I got us a catch to last us days.” She pats the stomach of the doe proudly. It isn’t very old – there’s still a sprinkling of fawn spots across her back. Aelin feels a twang of guilt for not singling out an older one.

Rowan pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing through his mouth. Aelin hardly has time to prepare before he jerks down towards his crotch, a light mist spraying across his trousers.

“hiHh–... yHhZzSHhhyuu!” A familiar, rushing heat spreads through Aelin’s gut. She swallows, watching as he rubs his nose on his wrist and glares up at her. Is he going to get mad at her for his sneezing?

Rowan chooses not to comment on it, something Aelin is secretly grateful for. “You were– snf! instructed to catch something small. We’re moving camp this afternoon.” He angles the pommel of the dagger towards her.

“What?!”

“Rain is coming tonight and will flood this area. I told you this morning. And now you’ve wasted a young doe’s life.”

A flame of rage flickers to life inside her chest. This is all his fault. “Well, I wouldn’t have wasted jack-shit if you hadn’t ruined my catch earl–”

“Aelin,” he growls, a no-nonsense sound. The tips of his canines poke past his lips. Aelin shuts up immediately. 

He stands, crossing the camp in two strides, and shoves the pommel of the knife against her stomach. She glares beneath his gaze. “You missed the catch because you did not act fast enough. Now you can either carry the doe across the mountain, or… hhH—!” His breath snags, eyes looking off into the distance for a split second. Aelin’s heart hammers in her chest.

He quickly recovers and sniffs again, much to her disappointment, and focuses his gaze on her. “Or you can leave it and realise you wasted a young animal’s life for your pride.” 

Before she can retort, he turns on his heel and she offers a middle finger to his large, muscular back. 

As if sensing her, he says over his shoulder, “And– sNf!– pack up the tent.”

#hey I didn't proof read this im just posting blind #I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM #I can't wait to make him snz more #anyway lets hope no vanillas find this bc I will shoot myself in the fucking face <3 #if you're a vanilla KEEP SCROLLING NOTHHING TO SEE HERE!!! OKAY!!!!M #you know im serious ab keeping it in this community when I put goddamn slashes in the names lmfao #normally I don't care #but I do not want anyone finding this and making me feel weirtd #weird* #anyway #ENJOY! this will probably be a 2 parter #2.5 if you include the fight scene #but mmm yeah lemme know what y'all think if there's anything you wanna see #THE MATCHA FIC IS COMING I PROMISE! I WONT LET THOSE BOYS DIE! #hey guys did you notice how I actually write out the curse words and don't write vulgar gesture every 2 paragraphs nor do I write the word #marked #WHY DOES SHE DO THAT #she ought to take notes #oh and a/elin has the fet. obviously. what else would she have

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

oughh......

#laya plays dragon age #da2 #oc: liam hawke #this happened a bit ago already & i wanted to draw sth for it but idk if i will finish that #but i gotta yell abt them anyway because OGH. #i have a lot of emotions about this quest ok #bartrand was the perfect scapegoat he was perfect to direct all the rage and pain at all these years #years of imagining gleeful revenge while bartrand is gloating and laughing like an evil soulless bastard #and then you meet him and he is just. a pathetic husk of a man with barely any own will left #and whats worse. varric is so so torn up about it #varric. the guy who never makes anything about him and who will always handwave and joke when something hits too close to home #drops all efforts to be smart and is just. desperate. begs hawke to not kill his brother #and liam wants to want bartrand dead so bad. he wishes he could look him in the eye and enjoy taking his life #and he knows varric will listen to him if he insisted. he knows when it comes down it it varric will yield to his decision #but he sees this broken guy who is barely the villain he kept projecting onto him and he sees varric and he sees two doomed siblings #and knows what its like to lose your sibling to your own blade #and he cant do it #and he hates it so much. but he wont do it. #and its the reason why i cant decide who dealt the killing blow for bethany bc it makes this scene juicy in different ways #if varric kills bethy its equally wanting to spare each other their siblings blood on their hands #as it is taking some form of revenge (on liams part). we both killed each others siblings. now we are even #the revenge part would still be there if liam did the blow on bethany himself. you made me do that and now i will take bartrand for it #but its also much more i know what its like. i wont make go through that too #if varric killed bethy and then also bartrand it would be more #''its my fault she is dead. i will take the revenge she/you deserves if you tell me to even though it will hurt me #dunno. all good variations i will. have to rotate them in my head more #or maybe just never decide idk they can be in canon limbo forever #anyways thats it for shouting into the void about them for now it Will happen again

[magentagalaxies]

overdid it at my improv show last night and now all i can do is lay in bed having blorbo thoughts

#it was my first time performing live comedy in at least a year and oh my god i didn't realize how much i'd missed it #i love doing behind-the-scenes stuff but something about being onstage with no script and the job of entertaining people #i'm like ah yes this is why i want to be a comedian no matter what #i'd done some virtual improv shows since the pandemic but being in person is so much better #my scene partner could just be like ''hey i'm giving you a piggy back now'' and i'd be like ok no follow up questions #i trust you know what you're doing in this scene enough for me to put my entire weight on you (both metaphorically and literally) #also spontaneously transformed from acting as myself to acting as taffy (one of my recurring improv characters) in like 0.5 seconds #and i didn't even know i was going to be doing taffy at this show (neither did my scene partner they just set me up perfectly) #idk if i've talked about taffy before but i love her she was my first major recurring comedic character #her whole thing is she desperately wants to be part of this wealthy family called the van bortels #and comes up with wild schemes to get there such as living in their vents for the entire pandemic #she also has a husband who's a raccoon that is also nonbinary #i love playing taffy bc she was the first character i ever did that was like. oh people enjoy this. oh people REALLY want to see this. #and when i came home from college the first time we did a scene where there was an imposter-taffy that was another cast member #basically doing their own impression of taffy #and it genuinely made me emotional like wow i made such a distinct character that people are doing their own imitations of her #and it's still unmistakably taffy #anyway maybe i should bring taffy out more. i've been focusing a lot on aubrey lately bc ze's my favorite character i do #but i have at least two other characters i developed in improv over the years that people seem to enjoy #(the third is taytay but i legit haven't played taytay since 2020 so i barely remember what she's like)