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snowfll · 5 months

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Daylight; Tom Blyth

paring - Tom Blyth x famous!reader summary - your life wasn’t easy, hurting those who loved you and being hurt by those you loved — until you met Tom words - 1.29k note - lowkey hate this, but you all voted for it so im publishing it anyway!! hope you guys like it ^-^ With finals coming up, I might not be as active, but once break starts I will be back!!

Growing up as a nepo baby, people took advantage of you, only becoming your friend for the fame that came along. You learned to deal with it but after so many people started to use you, you had to leave them.

In LA, it was hard to tell what people’s true intentions were, but they said they loved you, so you believed them. You were friends with people with all types of wrong to them. Now that you lived in New York, no one could be trusted, you learned your lesson after being naive one too many times.

The moment you encountered Tom, things were never the same. He was your literal knight in shining armor.

As you walked down the carpet of another premiere your manager forced you to attend, you couldn’t help but notice all the fake smiles from everyone you knew— including yourself. Being famous had its ups and downs, many loved your work but they did not appreciate who you were associated with.

Paparazzi continued to take your photos, commanding you to pose or asking you questions. With all the flashing from the cameras, everyone put on their best faces, but you can guarantee everyone looked worse in the light.

Once you reached the end of the carpet, your face dropped, of all people, your ex-boyfriend was standing there.

You had broken up with him almost a year ago, right before you moved out to New York. He was the main reason you couldn’t trust anyone. He brought you to parties, clubs, bars — the whole LA experience. That is where you had gotten into drugs, most people encouraged you including him.

Your ex had walked over to you and tried to make conversation with you. As he begged you to take him back, you tried to leave, not in the mood to deal with him. He didn’t get the hint as he continued to stand next to you.

Telling him to leave you alone, you turned to walk away but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards him. You tried to break free from his grasp but his grip on your wrist tightened. Fortunately, someone had noticed what was happening and approached the two of you.

“Is this man hurting you, love?” the voice intervened, getting in between you and your ex. You did not know who this man was but you were thankful for him either way. Nodding your head, you shyly stood behind him. “I’m pretty sure my girlfriend told you to leave her alone.”

His eyes widened as he looked up at the man protecting you. This mystery man was at least 6’0, 5 inches taller than your ex, who stood at 5’7. Intimidated, he ran off, most likely back to the people he came with.

“Thank you, sir,” you acknowledged his heroic actions as he turned around to face you.

“Anytime dear, I wouldn’t want a pretty lady like you to be treated so horribly.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words. Before you could reply, he got dragged away by what looked like to be his friend. You weren’t able to get his name or the reason he was there. Later that night, you found out that he played the main character in the movie for the premiere.

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From that day, Tom reached out to you on Instagram, asking to see you again, but this time under proper circumstances. At first, you were hesitant, you didn’t know anything about him — what if he was just like the others?

He didn’t give up, telling you that meeting up with him was completely up to you. He wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel unsafe.

Either way, you agreed, you hated to admit it but ever since you saw him on the night of the premiere, you didn’t want to look at anything else. You couldn’t stop thinking about him and you didn’t want to think about anything else.

The more the two of you hung out, the more you realized how genuine he truly was. Taking you on dates to places you’ve only dreamed of going. On one occasion he surprised you with a cute rooftop garden in the heart of New York City.

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“Where are you taking me?” You questioned as you rode on the back of his motorcycle. He had randomly shown up at your apartment door and told you to get ready.

“You will see when we get there.” He spoke, refusing to give you any hints as to what you were going to do. Throughout the ride, you watched as you sped past all the cars and took in the view of New York City at night.

As you arrived at what you believed to be the destination, Tom dragged you into the building and straight into the elevator— pushing the button for the roof. Reaching the top, you opened to door to see a beautiful garden, the skyline sparkled with city lights.

In a cozy corner of the roof, a picnic blanket sat with an array of your favorite snacks and drinks. The music playing in the background displayed his thoughtfulness as he carefully curated the playlist based on your time together.

The night was filled with laughter, shared dreams, and stolen glances under the starlight sky. It truly was a night to remember— the way it ended left you over the mean.

The evening was coming to a close as you were lying in his lap, a comfortable silence filling the air. It had been quiet for a while, the only thing heard was Tom humming along to the songs.

You were content with the night, the quietness was a huge contrast to your old life in LA. Instead of being at a party filled with people who didn’t give a shit about you, here you were, on a date with a man who proved he was worthy of your trust.

Interrupting the silence, Tom finally spoke up, what came out of his mouth changed your views on love. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to speak to you about.” You could tell he was nervous as one of his hands fiddled with your hair.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything is perfect— you’re perfect.” Your eyes widened at the last part of his sentence. By now, you were sitting up facing him with your hands in your lap.

“I have enjoyed the past few months with you, ever since I met you at that premiere I knew I had to know you, whether it be just as friends— I wanted you in my life.” His admission hung in the air, and you felt a rush of emotions. The sincerity of his words resonated deeply and you couldn’t help but smile.

He continued. “I’ve never met someone so genuine. I care about you in a way I’ve never felt before. I know you don’t want to get hurt again but if you let me, I want to make you the happiest girl in the world.”

As he spoke, your heart fluttered, realizing that the connection you shared was reciprocated in a way that went beyond friendship. The vulnerability in his confession melted away any doubts you had about him.

“You have brought so much light into my life, Tom. I never thought I would find anyone who truly cares, who sees beyond the surface.” your voice was filled with sincerity, “I want this— I want us.”

Before him, you were miserable — feeling like you were sleeping in a 20-year dark night. For the entirety of your life, you closed yourself off from the world. Tom brought you out of that state, you were wide awake. With him, the only thing you see is daylight.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x you #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x you #tbosbas #hunger games #fluff #imagine #onehsot #taylor swift #lover #daylight #fem!reader #confession #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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tremendum · 1 day

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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

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comfortless · 4 months

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hello beloved 🥰 🫶 every time you mention ‘The Dungeon’ whatever da hell that is my brain just goes dungeon crawler! könig! dungeon crawler! könig! so might i request a dungeon crawling könig?

what the hell. do not send König down here… get him away from me…. *immediately forgets everything else i was doing to begrudgingly write this*

sigh… dungeoneer! König x fem! reader

content / warnings: violence, sexism, suggestive.

Retrieving the golden eye of a wyrm to be made into a lovely pendant for the Queen would pay well, keep him afloat and drifting from land to land for long enough to decide upon where to settle. The posting tacked to the wall of the inn, detailing a handsome reward, was surely the sign from a benevolent god that a glorious fate had been handed to him on a silver platter. He stuffs the parchment into the pocket of his trousers as he downs the last of his ale, tosses his coins to the barmaid on his way toward the door and sets off for the deepest dungeon in the kingdom.

There are no bright-eyed knights lobbying around the entrance, a good sign that the wyrm’s bounty was all his to claim. It makes him elated, really, and the idea of finally having his own place, bedding down with a pretty maiden each night is even more of an adrenaline rush than the actual fighting that comes the moment he steps foot into the darkened underworld. The dungeon is filled with the reanimated skeletons he’s grown so accustomed to— a quick jab with his claymore to the center of the spine leaves them a crumpled heap of bone and dust. They’ll rise again when the moon hangs lofty in the sky, but he’s done this enough times to know the best way of navigating such a place. The other beasts haunting the cavernous ruins are a bit trickier to deal with, and he’s fortunate that most shy away from the light of his torch.

Only, she does not.

The woman standing before him in full plate armor is poised for battle, blade making a steady ascent above her head in preparation to strike as her lantern is cast aside. She charges at him before he can even breathe out a word of protest, swinging the heavy sword at him so quickly that at most, he can only thrust his torch before him to prevent her plunging the tip between his ribs. She’s quick to draw back when the wood splinters and the fire sparks up on dry bone and the tattered remains of clothing from all that came before layered upon the dirt and grime coated floor. The blaze of the fire seems pale in comparison to the flames in her eyes as she pivots towards him again, and once more— he merely blocks.

“A maiden shouldn’t be here,” he says through gritted teeth as he easily pushes her back against the wall, caging her between the flat of his blade and the bulk of his body.

He hadn’t realized the ache in his groin until the woman tilts her head up to spit in his face. König doesn’t bother to wipe it away, to even pretend to be disgusted by her actions. From this small breadth between them all he sees is divine beauty— even as her eyes narrow like that of a viper preparing to strike.

“A knight to be,” she corrects him as he gives her blade a shove, the sounds of steel hissing against steel and crackling fire echoing throughout the cavern.

“Not likely.”

Their fight drags on for what feels like hours before his flask his split at his hip and she finally does back down. Even this lady knows well enough that being lost in a dark dungeon with no source of light and no water is a death sentence, and she finds him both incredibly frustrating and fun enough to keep him a live just a little longer. He’s adept enough to block even her quickest strikes, parry her with a gentle jab to her side with his index rather than his blade. He’s shown her her own weak points during their little battle, and she’s garnered a bit of respect for him for that.

As she sheaths her blade and locks eyes with him, his erection is practically trying to tear through the seams of his pants. She’s so pretty, so strong, so unlike the barmaids and damsels in distress he’s come across so often and it’s all gnawing at the recesses of his mind. The bounty almost entirely forgotten, he wants not to penetrate the wyrm with his blade but rather spear her with his cock.

He reaches for her, almost tentatively hoping to somehow melt through her armor and feel the warmth of her flesh. She’s doesn’t pull away when his hands rest against her waist, just gives him a little flutter of her eyelashes before rearing a hand back to almost playfully strike his face just before she turns on the heel of her boot and gathers her lantern.

König follows along behind her, not just out of necessity, but because she asks him to. Beckons him along with the curl of her gloved finger, coos at him when he falls behind trying to picture her body beneath the layers of chainmail and fitted steel.

“I’m taking the bounty,” she tells him when they stop to take a sip from her flask, feast on the preserved fruit and dried meat from his own satchel.

It reminds him of why he’s come all this way, what he’s supposed to be doing here. He’s a little tense— on one hand he wants to give this lady the entire kingdom, make her his wife and rid away those silly thoughts about becoming a knight, but she’s so determined!! He’s at a loss on how to tell her that there are no women knights in the land, that no matter what she brings back for the King she’ll probably only be mocked and sent on her way.

“Let me help you,” he says instead.

“You would lend me your blade?”

He just blinks at her… this silly woman has spent far too long dreaming and watching the knights in the castle yard, he just knows it. Down to the way she speaks! She’s incredible and infuriating, just as he is to her. It makes him want to push her just a bit, see what she’s capable of entirely before they part ways (she is never getting rid of him).

“What do I get in turn?”

The little knight mulls that over for a moment, as she leads him down a long corridor; everything all gilded and decorated, lit aglow by the dim orange of lantern light. The golden coins, rolls of fine silk now muddied and trampled littering the floor are enough of a sign to show they’ve nearly made their way to the heart. The wyrm would no doubt be lying in wait at the end, resting protectively over its hoard of cattle bones and shiny objects, golden eyes piercing through the darkness as it prepares for the fight to come.

It’s when the wyrm’s first hissing growl rings out through the darkness that she does turn back to face him, a mischievous little grin tugging at her lips.

“Only to live another day.”

“Nein… something else.”

He can’t stop himself from pawing at her again, curling a hand around her neck to tilt her chin up to face him. Her breath fanning over his face, her scent like peony and lantern oil make him feel drunk enough. The hand that slides between his legs to grasp at his cock is far from anything he ever anticipated from her. She was bold, too bold and too pretty for her own good.

Fate had blessed him more than he could even begin to fathom, after all.

#könig x you #könig x reader #konig #könig #dungeoneer!könig #this is so silly they should get married give her one hour with König and one of them is walking out pregnant (but it’s not her)

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cloudyyoimiya · 1 year

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Changing His Bandages Headcanons and Scenario; Osamu Dazai

Where to begin with this!

Normally, he won’t let anyone know why he wears his bandages; he dislikes the thought.

In fact, the first time his s/o offered to change his bandages for him, it caught him off guard. Though, he immediately regained his composure and played off his s/o’s offer by saying he sleeps in his bandages.

This claim isn’t entirely false though… 😭

If you really want to see what’s with the bandages, Dazai would have to trust you with his whole being. He has to trust that you won’t be going around explaining why he wears the bandages, and he has to trust that you wouldn’t be weirded out by them.

In order for him to trust you, well, it could take months… years. He doesn’t trust others that easily.

Once he does trust his s/o, he’d go on and explain why his body appears the way it does. He doesn’t really like talking about it though, so you’d get a short and bitter answer.

Of course you wouldn’t pry on it.. it’s personal. If he wanted to tell his s/o more details, then he would on his own will. Nothing could pressure him into telling his s/o about it before he’s ready.

Scenario…

Dazai had just got out of the shower, and only wore a towel around his waist. You, of course, were sitting in the living room on the love seat. You were scrolling through your phone, smiling at random things that caught your eye. Dazai had found the sight before him endearing. How could he not?

He said down beside you with a faint smile on his face. “My Belladonna, could you please help me wrap myself up?”

You blinked as you set your phone down. Dazai asking you to help him with his bandages was a rare occurrence. Possibly today was a good day at the agency? That’s what you chalked it up to anyway.

“Of course,” you smiled. “Did you bring the bandages?”

Dazai only nodded as he handed you the roll of bandages. You took the roll out of his grasp, then took his right arm into your care. Silently, you started to carefully wrap his wrist.

Dazai observed as you carried out your actions. He was… happy that he could trust you. He was happy that you weren’t disgusted by his old wounds. He was just happy to have you. A bittersweet smile adorned his features as he continued to think about how happy you made him.

“Ah my beautiful lover! You’re almost like my personal medic!” Dazai said rather loudly.

You only chuckled at his antics. You had finished wrapping up his right arm.

“If I’m your personal medic, then wouldn’t that make you a soldier I was treating?”

You grabbed his left arm, then started the same process all over again.

“I’d much rather be your knight in shining armor than a soldier, my love,” Dazai chuckled.

Your touches were feather light. Dazai enjoyed this feeling. It was rather relaxing on his end. He noticed your faint smile, and only assumed that you enjoyed this as well. In a way, this could be considered an activity that the two of you like to do to destress.

You had finished wrapping his left arm. You then went to wrap his torso, but Dazai stopped you for a brief moment.

“I can do this myself,” he said.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

Dazai stopped to think for a moment. What had he ever done to deserve you?

“You want to continue to do this?” He questioned. You only nodded.

“I enjoy helping you do this, Osamu.”

He wiped under his eyes, making it look like he was wiping tears.

“Ah you’re too kind to me!” He exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes as you started to wrap the bottom of his torso. On occasion, Dazai would twitch from your touch if you grazed a particularly ticklish area. Other than that, wrapping his torso was spent in a comfortable silence.

When you had finished, Dazai jumped on you right away. He hugged you rather tightly as he rubbed his cheek onto yours.

“My sweet, I love you so much.”

Requests open!

#bsd dazai #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd fluff #bsd scenarios #i wanna hug him

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lux-ishii · 1 year

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Episode 6 dropped and love is literally in the air... so let's dive in...

We start the episode with an interesting story of a Romeo and Juliette trope. Specifically, a Captain and a Calamari Prince fell in love and run away together, causing danger of war between their species by doing so.

You may think it has nothing to do with either Din or Bo, but if you read my previous post you already know everything is intentional.

They could put here anything, absolutely anything. A pirate, bounty hunter, escaped prisoner... But they put two lovers who with their actions could bring harm to others. It's not truly a happy story, as the woman said before her love confession:

You see, after rewatching previous seasons I noticed that The Mandoverse likes to foreshadow what will happen in one way or another. Mythosaur discovery was foreshadowed by The Armorer in The Book of Boba Fett, for example. So this story here could be a potential warning, or hint at what may happen to Bo and Din. A Princess with a fleet, and a man who isn't considered a true Mandalorian because of his origin (Axe's words). After this episode, I'm pretty sure that Din and Bo are already in love. However, they didn't take any on-screen action to solidify the things we see between the lines. I do believe their relationship will progress further, and...

They may reach the point where things get complicated just because of who they are. You see the lovers from this episode can foreshadow Bo's or Din's dilemma about what they should do for the greater good. They may fall apart if the cause of their interest won't align, or be on the way.

HOWEVER, it may also be used as a future contrast that despite these odds and differences, they would not give up on what they feel for each other. Which I think would go together with true Mandalorian nature. This season is all about what it means to be a true Mandalorian, which is not just a fight for power. It's about caring for one another, especially a family. Mandalorians are stronger together, after all.

More under the cut!

Can we take a moment to talk about how Din IS JUST THERE?

We were making theories if he will go with Bo or not when the show... literally treats them as one already. Whenever she goes, he goes, and vice versa. Without empty promises, they just do it.

And they "moved" to Bo's ship!

To dig into it further, this episode they were constantly walking side by side, to the point of going thru the doors together too if the space allowed it. You can check out this post >here< with more scenes

Glances.

As I mentioned in my previous posts, this form is a subtle tool for storytelling, yet it can hide a whole ton of meaning or can be truly innocent. This episode is full of glances, specifically put in interesting places and I will touch on those later.

Like this one is innocent, just saying "Where the hell we are?" without words.

I mention in the title of this post that "love is in the air" and here's another indication of it, a bizarre one to be sure as ex imperialist and a democrat fell in love despite their differences.

But... Grogu may be the biggest giveaway here:

We don't see Bo's or Din's reaction here at all, only the enthusiastic cooing of Grogu. I asked myself why? Because he matters too, as Din's son. Grogu could be excited about the couple and how happy they are together. He knows both Din and Bo struggle a lot, and they have dark, rather gloomy lives. What if his father was blessed with a love that would make him happy?

In this episode, we also have the first instance of someone recognizing Bo as a Mandalorian Royalty, despite the fact, there's technically nothing to rule for her. No planet, no people.

An indicator that for the outsiders she is still a rightful ruler, despite her own people not believing in her anymore.

Glances. She is not going to make this decision alone, looking for assurance in Din.

An then, at the mention of her ruling Mandalore again she responds with:

Bo doesn't want to rule Mandalore anymore. A theme that goes on since the beginning of the season. But I think just this episode we got a glimpse of the true reason why those plans truly changed.

We got a great sequence with Good Cop - Bad Cop trope. Bo and Din gave us some Detective AU right here, make it black and white and we get a whole Noir setup ready to launch...

But back to the topic. This was yet another example of how they complement each other. Bo's more soft and rational approach would lead to nowhere or would take way longer if not Din's aggressive and hostile take on the matter, and vice versa.

They aren't only a great team, they need each other.

Glances.

Bo for the first time saw the darker side of Din. We knew he had one, but she's pretty taken aback by his hatred of droids. Nonetheless, it doesn't make her fearful of him.

Quite the opposite in fact

as she becomes his voice of reason to hold his horses. She's not scared he would get back at her with this attitude at all.

They had a brief conversation about his hostility, and I'm glad they allowed Bo-Katan to remove her helmet because what Katee is doing with expressing her emotions is phenomenal.

This innocent sentence awakens a lot if you know where to look. And if not I will just show you.

Glances. After the droid, a machine that can outlast probably generations if maintained properly puts importance on human life, and how short it truly is Bo and Din look at each other, accompanied by a romantic melody.

Devil is in the details, as Bo took a deep breath before breaking contact with Din.

What does it mean? As per usual it can mean nothing, or it can mean a thing, and you know me already, I will talk about the thing. You never know when someone's words might hit you, and I think that droid hit Bo and Din pretty strongly. In this lifestyle, they both share, life is even more dangerous than the citizens of that planet. It's a constant battle for survival. Wars, monsters, your own kind... Everything can kill you if you are Mandalorian.

So they might think that there's no time to waste. An indicator that the actions may be taken soon. A way of saying "Life is short so we can as well live together".

The investigation is a success, DinBo detectives can be proud of themselves for solving the issue, and as they came back to the Duchess with the results, we are once again struck with something. The motives of a man responsible for malfunction have their core in his hatred for the ex-imperial husband of the Duchess. So Duchess Lizzo blesses us with this line:

You see, both Din and Bo have past. And those who know TCW know that Bo's past is terrible. She made huge mistakes when she was younger, and she pays for them to this day.

I don't have a gif here, but at this moment you can see how Bo is moved by the exchange of these words, and you can see it all over her face, as her gaze is running away somewhere else.

Lizzo then recognizes the efforts, Bo and Din made, which put a smile on Bo's face. A rare sign, but it only gets better.

You see, I think Bo-Katan is genuinely happy here because she did something good, and her efforts are recognized.

It's safe to say that back at Kalevala, she was severely depressed. Thinking of herself as a failure that caused the doom of her planet and everyone she loved. Everyone left her, no one cared for her, and she was all alone. Then Din needed her help, and from then she was on a streak of doing good. I'm pretty sure that if not for the helmet we would see her smiling similar way after rescuing Rengar. Here, she not only helped people but also secured an alliance with another planet, simply by doing good, with no corruption or violence needed.

Look how proud she is when Grogu becomes a knight! @ladyzirkonia Already noticed in her post >here< that Bo is happier than ever. And It's absolutely true! We haven't seen her as happy ever before. Not when she was getting a new addition to her fleet back in Season 2, or not even when the Armorer announced she is the one to unite them all.

This leads us adress to the bantha in the room...

Where something important happens.

You see, there were many theories that what Bo's doing with Din is just a long play to challenge him when he least expects it, but this disproved it. And later it gets even more interesting.

You see... Axe is accusing Bo of intentionally refusing to challenge Din. Which would mean her people demanded it from her at some point.

Her refusal could be what lead them to leave, claiming she's weak, not only as a leader but also as a warrior, probably thinking she's afraid of challenging him.

However, Bo's motive may be rooted somewhere else.

Bo-Katan had no problem challenging Axe for her fleet, so why would she struggle so much to challenge Din? It was as necessary as getting the fleet back, so what was stopping her?

But she really didn't have to kill him to claim the blade. We saw it as Din and Paz fought for the Darksaber, and Vizsla is still alive.

(gifs by @itberice) Do you remember what I said about love in the air? Now, look back at the Captain and the Prince from the beginning, and Duchess Lizzo and her ex-imperial husband. Do you notice the similarity?

Bo-Katan stands up in front of so-called Mandalorians, that are ready to outcast someone like Din, just because his blood is not Mandalorian enough. Just like Lizzo stood up against Commissioner in defense of her ex-imperial partner.

Again @ladyzirkonia made a great post >here< saying what I'm gonna mention.

This is a great sign of what kind of leader Bo is going to be. She walks both ways, she took her time to understand Din's perspective, and because of everything that happened, he is the one who showed her The Way. The right one.

He let her understand what it means to be Mandalorian, and it's not the blood, but the heart and faith of a warrior.

Din Djarin, with all his adventures, made Bo-Katan the person she is now. And she is really fond of him, to the point of standing in his defense, even if before she was among the people who laughed at him.

I know everyone has mixed feelings about the Darksaber, and I fully myself don't sit right with it either, BUT it happened, and I'm here to make surgery on the symbolism here.

I know a lot of people think if Din gave the Darksaber like that, make it look pointless...

But I beg to differ.

You see, the Darksaber for Din and Bo actually lost its value. For him, it was a burden, and for Bo-Katan a symbol of everything she lost. But for everyone else? It still was a symbol of power.

I may sound here like I'm trying to defend the outcome, but I rather like to think I'm just taking a different perspective on it.

Hear me out, the point of Din getting the Darksaber maybe never was to show him as a potential leader, but rather put him on his path with someone who will make his life... better.

The Darksaber is something that put Din and Bo-Katan on the same way. A catalyst for everything we saw this season. Nothing of it wouldn't happened if Din didn't have the Darksaber. Just think about it, if in season 2 Bo got the Darksaber from Gideon, she would have her fleet, and wouldn't rot in her sadness on Kalevala, so there would be no one to save Din on his way to redeem himself. Giving this one sample to just show how big of a butterfly effect we are dealing here with.

So as much as I don't like the way the Darksaber was claimed, I truly don't think it makes everything pointless. For me, quite the opposite really. It's the reason why everything we see is happening.

#dinbo #the mandalorian #din djarin x bo katan kryze #din x bo #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #bo katan kryze #din djarin

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lvrdrafts · 9 months

Text

Rescued by Love Part 4

★ Summary: Your brother Steve always hated you after your mother's death and when he finally gets the family's empire he is ready to sell you off to some toxic marriage but will the knight and shining armor save you or make it worse?

★ Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

★ Warnings: Arranged Marriage

★ Genre: Angst/ Fluff

Masterlist

The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the television as you settled onto the couch, trying to find some distraction from the world outside. The sound of a show's opening theme filled the air, but it was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You picked it up, seeing Sam's name on the caller ID. Curious and a bit surprised, you answered, your voice a mix of confusion and warmth. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, I... I just wanted to call and say I'm sorry for your loss," Sam's voice carried a gentle tone, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

Your brows furrowed in puzzlement. "Loss? Sam, what are you talking about?"

There was a moment of hesitation on the other end of the line, and then Sam spoke softly. "Your father's passing. I know it might be overwhelming, and I wanted to reach out."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat, the words not quite sinking in. "Wait, my father... passed away?"

There was a pause, and then Sam replied, his voice understanding. "Yeah, the funeral is tomorrow. I can't tell if your messing with me right now or not"

The shock and disbelief coursed through you as you tried to process what Sam was saying. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I... I didn't know."

Sam's voice held empathy, and he responded gently, "Wait- actually?"

You swallowed hard, your voice catching in your throat. "No, Sam, I had no idea. Bucky, he went on a business trip for a month, and I've been... I haven't been allowed to leave the house."

There was a somber pause on the other end, and then Sam said "What-what do you mean Bucky's not with you? He's here right now, with Steve, making arrangements for the funeral."

The weight of the situation bore down on you, the reality of your isolation and the secrets that had been kept from you leaving you feeling even more adrift. Your tears began to flow freely, and you managed to stammer, "I... I have to go, Sam."

"Take care," Sam's voice was soft, filled with understanding.

As you ended the call, your heart felt heavy, and the weight of the situation seemed almost suffocating. Alone in the dimly lit room, you leaned forward, your face in your hands, allowing your tears to flow. The television's flickering light seemed distant and inconsequential compared to the storm of emotions that raged within you.

After a few moments of collecting yourself, you reached for your phone again. There was one person who might be able to guide you through this tumultuous time – Matt Murdock.

"Hello?" Matt's voice came through the line, a calm and steady presence on the other end.

"Hey, Matt. It's me," you greeted, your voice carrying a mix of weariness and determination.

"Ah, I was wondering when you'd call. How can I help you?" Matt's tone was empathetic, as if he could sense the weight of your burdens.

Your heart felt heavy, the desire for liberation clashing with the reality of your circumstances. "I... I need your help with something big. My father passed away, and I've been isolated at home. Bucky hired bodyguards who won't let me leave. And now I want to divorce him."

A thoughtful silence hung in the air for a moment before Matt spoke, his voice filled with understanding. "I'm sorry to hear about your father. And as for the divorce, that's a significant step. I can definitely assist you. We'll need to navigate the legal aspects, especially given your current situation."

Relief washed over you as you realized you weren't alone in this daunting journey. "Thank you, Matt. I really appreciate it. I... I want to regain control over my life."

Two days passed in a mix of tension and anticipation. The weight of your impending actions sat heavy on your shoulders as you waited for Bucky's return from his supposed business trip. The isolation that had cloaked you seemed to grow even more suffocating, the silence of the empty house echoing your thoughts.

Then, the door finally swung open, and Bucky stepped inside, his presence a blend of weariness and something you couldn't quite place. Steve trailed behind him, his features etched with a mix of determination and cold detachment. The air seemed charged with unspoken words as they both entered the room, their gazes meeting yours.

"Bucky," you greeted him, your voice carrying a mix of emotions – frustration, sadness, and something else that had been building within you.

He looked at you, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before being replaced by a guarded expression. "Hey."

Steve's gaze remained fixed on you, a coldness that seemed to permeate the air between you all. It was as if the unspoken truths that had been kept hidden for far too long were about to surface, ready to shatter the fragile semblance of family.

"You're back," you stated, your tone tinged with an edge that betrayed the turmoil within you.

Bucky's jaw clenched, his eyes briefly meeting yours before flicking away. "Yeah. Business trip was... intense."

You took a deep breath, a surge of courage propelling you forward. "Bucky, I know."

His gaze snapped back to yours, a flicker of surprise mingling with caution. "What do you mean?"

"The funeral. I know about it," you stated firmly, refusing to back down.

Bucky's expression shifted, his eyes narrowing as if calculating his next move. "How...?"

"Sam called," you said, your voice steady. "He told me about Dad's passing. And about the funeral that both of you conveniently forgot to inform me about."

A heavy silence settled in the room, the tension palpable. Steve's cold demeanor remained unbroken, his gaze like ice as he observed the exchange.

"I didn't want you to have to deal with it," Bucky finally spoke, his voice tinged with sympathy.

You scoffed, a bitter chuckle escaping you. "So, you decided I didn't deserve to know, right? Just like everything else?"

Bucky's brows furrowed, his expression a mixture of frustration and guilt. "It's not like that. Please I don't want to see your hurt, its fucked up but you mean-"

"Isn't it ironic you don't wanna see me hurt yet you hurt me all the time?" you shot back, your voice rising with each word. "You've controlled my life, kept me isolated, and now you're making decisions about my own family without even telling me."

Steve's cold voice cut through the tension like a blade. "You're better off not knowing, Y/N."

His words ignited a fire within you, fueled by years of resentment and the determination to reclaim your agency. "No, Steve. I'm done being kept in the dark. I'm done being treated like a pawn in your twisted game. I'm getting a divorce you piece of shit"

"You better not," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper as he took a step toward you, his fingers reaching for your arms with an intent that sent shivers down your spine.

Fear clamped its icy grip around your heart for a moment, paralyzing you. The shadow of past trauma loomed, threatening to engulf you once again. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as Steve's fingers tightened on your arms, his grip threatening to crush your spirit as it had for years.

Before the fear could completely consume you, a flash of movement caught your attention. Bucky, faster than you could anticipate, stepped between you and Steve, his stance protective. His strong arm shot out, intercepting Steve's grasp, and with a force that surprised you, he pushed Steve back making him hit the wall and fall on the floor.

"Steve, go this is between my wife and I not you" Bucky says coldly and Steve walks away with blood dripping down his nose. "Lets talk" Bucky says with a cold expression but past that you see a flicker of pain.

@cjand10 @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @hereticdance @kentokaze @bruher @tupperwarefullofdirt @unaxv @learisa @emerald-writes @aya-fay @stinkerbelle007 @scifinerd1818 @paarthurnax59 @vickie5446 @almosttoopizza @kandis-mom

#bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #mob bucky x wife reader angst #mob bucky x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rodgers sister reader x bucky #mob steve x reader #winter soldier x reader #angst x reader #mob bucky au

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marvel-starwarsfangirl · 1 month

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Why Crosshair Will Live

(aka an essay by a Crosshair girlie who loves her clone husband too much)

So, I've been thinking long and hard about the final season and how it could end. Obviously, it's gonna be an emotional rollercoaster and all that. However, there's always going to be discourse about who's gonna bite it, especially since our main characters don't have plot armor and this show is allowed to go way darker than Rebels. Crosshair is my favorite character and I don't hide that at all. He's all over my page. But looking at his character, there's a part of me that believes he actually might make it out in one piece. Let's get started!

"Redemption Equals Death"- Out of all the tropes, this is the one Crosshair embodies the most. He was the villain for a season, but now he's changing his ways. In past seasons, I would've said this is how his story ends. His brothers find him and Omega on Tantiss and he goes out protecting them, proving he deep down he still loved them. But after season 3, I don't think that's the case anymore. I think he's passed the point. Crosshair in season 3 is actively redeeming himself through his actions and words with his family and the other clones. We don't need to see him go out in some big self-sacrifice because we already see the person he truly is inside. More importantly, his family sees the person he's become. He's already proven it in so many ways. Crosshair openly admitted his mistakes, saved Hunter from the wyrm, is very protective of Omega, and saved his brothers, Omega, and Rex + Howzer from CX-2. At this point, Crosshair has passed the "redemption equals death" marker. His redemption is playing out and the people around him are seeing the changes.

His Character Arc- Crosshair's character arc has always been about loyalty and identity. Go all the way back to season 1 with the infamous "this is who I am" line and his whole spiel about the Batch not being loyal to him. "Aftermath" shows us this poor man already beginning to struggle. In season 2, Crosshair is going through every hurt no comfort fic trope in the book. This man was pushed to the brink, with every sense of his being questioned. And he almost didn't make it. Crosshair in "The Outpost" was so close to dying after trekking through the blizzard and shooting Nolan. He's suffered through so much already from being severely burnt to freezing, and now almost drowning. Pretty much half way through season 3 and Crosshair's trials aren't over. His hand is still bothering him and he's still trying to find himself.

Although Crosshair has made peace with his family, I believe he still needs to make peace with himself. He's been humbled sure, but there's more to go. Who is he if he isn't a soldier or sharpshooter? Crosshair's arc will probably finish with him realizing being a soldier isn't entirely who he is. His hand tremor still could be related to his internal conflict, we don't know. So far, he's doing a great job. We've seen Crosshair begin to find peace on Pabu and comfort with Omega. It would be so satisfying to see him make it out of this mess alive. My best BB ending would be him (and his brothers) alongside Omega retired somewhere. They have each other and that is enough.

His Poster and Theme- Crosshair is the only character as of right now in the Batch who has a separate poster for season 3. Not even Omega has a separate one (although I can see her getting one later). In fact, Omega shares her with Crosshair. Both are wearing their prison outfits, showing their shared situation and stand against a white/grey backdrop. We also see Cross gripping his right hand, referring to the issue he's having with it. However, he also has one of himself in the same golden lighting as his brothers. Crosshair stares at his helmet with a calm look on his face and appears to be contemplating. That has to mean something. From my POV, I get the sense he's wondering about who he is. Wouldn't it be a great ending if Cross finds himself and lives to see that self be happy?

He is also the only member of the Batch (Omega aside) to have his own theme/leitmotif. He has two actually: his Imperial one and his heroic one. His heroic theme aka the "Mayday" theme is stunning and highlights his struggle perfectly. You can actually hear it in season 1 fun fact but it's faint. The fact that he does have a separate poster and theme from the others does give me hope that he will make it. Not to say that the others aren't important, but something about Crosshair and his journey is very meaningful to have warranted this. You can argue that he shares the title of "heart of the show" to some degree because his arc is the most dynamic of all the Batch. His struggles and fight back towards the light truly raise this show to greatness.

Crosshair is also season 3's "Batcher of Year" award and so far, they're doing everything we wanted and more. For two whole seasons, his character has been building and building towards this season. And they better give us a great payoff. Crosshair's character going to continue to soar as the season progresses. I can definitely see him making it through to the end because of the focus on him.

Omega- how can we forget about the kid who never gave up on our grumpy sniper? Omega (and we can argue Cross to a lesser degree) is the heart of the show. She gives the Batch a new outlook on life and it is through her that they grow and change. Omega brings out the paternal and softer side in each of her brothers. Crosshair, however, takes a bit longer to get there. He's the only character whose main development happens away from Omega. When he finally gets home, he becomes Crossdad. But Omega is still a kid, despite her capabilities. If the other Batchers die, who will take care of her? Omega being on her own just doesn't feel right. We also know going off with Rex wouldn't feel satisfying either even though he would take really good care of her.

Now that Crosshair is back, it feels like the show is propping him up to take over Hunter's role. Hunter parented for 2 whole seasons. As the mentor figure, he might bite it. But wait! Crosshair is still here. There is no way the writers would just let Omega finish alone or get killed off. She will have someone with her. Crosshair, having spent the majority of the show away, will probably be the best candidate narratively speaking. As mentioned above, he gets two posters showing just how integral he is this season. He's also been getting a lot of screen time with Omega. So, I can definitely see the show ending with just the two of them left. It would be bittersweet, but still satisfying.

Disney- let's ask the question: would Disney kill off an entire family aside from their child? My best guess is no (this isn't a Disney movie with a prince to save the day). Tying into my last point, I can't see this family-friendly company letting a literal child lose her entire family and end up all alone in the end. We all saw Rogue One and we know that this is a plausible option. However, I'm beginning to think that they aren't gonna do that because again, Omega is a child. She's gonna hopefully have one, if not all, her brothers alongside her. And I swear, if they give her to someone else not named Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker, or Echo, I will blow a gasket. She needs her family. Disney and Star Wars is all about hope and it's not very hopeful to me if all of the BB but Omega dies.

Rebuttal- let's get this out of the way: if Cross dies, it will be with his brothers, protecting Omega, and defeating Hemlock. There is literally no other way he could go out that would be satisfying. He's redeemed and fought the Ghost of Crosshair's Future (aka CX-2). Backpedaling on his character arc would suck. If he dies, it will be as a Bad Batcher, a loving brother, and the best sniper the galaxy has ever seen.

But I don't think that will happen. I do genuinely think Crosshair has a chance to survive. But what do you guys think? Obviously, I'll still be nervous about the whole thing, but I'm trying here.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #please guys just let me have this #crosshair will live #im manifesting this right now #he will be ok #he and omega will be together #and all will be well #jennifer do you hear me #let's get our prayer circle and hold hands #tbb omega #tbb meta #tbb analysis

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darkside-skyguy · 8 months

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Ahsoka Part 5 thoughts (spoilers)

For me, this finally felt like an episode of Ahsoka, rather than a Rebels sequel series. I love Rebels but if you're going to call this the Ahsoka show then you damn well better center the title character!!! Anyway, this episode was all about her and her trauma and we needed this deep exploration in order for the character to grow. She could not have continued on this journey without confronting Anakin. I only wish there was more of this exploration!!!

On that note, I'm glad Hera isn't going with Ahsoka to find Ezra and Sabine. As much as I love Hera, this is Ahsoka's journey and the show is stronger for focusing on her rather than splitting its focus between all these different characters.

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN IN CLONE WARS ARMOR

I've always been a Hayden Christensen fan but good god Hayden Christensen was amazing in this episode. Just so so SO good. It was so exciting to see him embody the Anakin of TCW that I literally sat up in my seat and screamed every time he was on screen. Really, it was magical to watch <3

The shot of Anakin transforming into Vader and back again in the fog was EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!

Sith eyes sith eyes sith eyes sith eyes

I loved the flashbacks and I loved little Ahsoka. Seeing these scenes in live action really emphasized just how young Ahsoka was when the Clone Wars began in a way that animation never really did. It was so cool to see this side of Anakin in his role as mentor at the very beginning of Ahsoka's training. I want 50 more episodes of scenes like this, please.

REX MY BELOVED

"You are more because I am more" I am WEEPING

The only thing I was a little disappointed about was the World Between Worlds. We didn't actually see any portals or how the WBW works. The fight between Ahsoka and Anakin could have taken place anywhere and I'm still not quite clear on why they were in the WBW. Was Anakin a Force ghost? A memory? Is he like the Son now, but instead of Mortis he lives in the WBW? I would like more information, but I don't think we're going to get more and that saddens me.

Very excited to see where the purgill take them. I love that they are leaving the galaxy far far away for the first time (outside of the EU, anyway)

Can't wait for next week :) :)

#ahsoka #ahsoka tano #ahsoka show #ahsoka series #ahsoka tv #spoilers #star wars #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #captain rex #hera syndulla #ezra bridger #sabine wren #darth vader #rebels #star wars rebels #alyssa rambles #star wars thoughts

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hamliet · 23 days

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can you analyze the song Out for Love from Hazbin Hotel means to veggies character arc

It's the main theme of the entire series: people can only be redeemed through love.

Hard work, sure. Struggle, sure. Apologies and accountability, of course. But it's ultimately dependent on love.

The only way any lasting change of meaningful measure is made is through love. And yeah yeah it's simplified but it's the main message. Think about Sir Pentious. What is his last action?

Telling Cherri Bomb he loves her.

His sacrifice amounts to nothing at all, but he died to save Cherri alongside all his friends/family in the hotel. It's not a coincidence that Sir Pentious says that line before making his sacrifice: the writers are telling us exactly what they want us to associate his getting into heaven with. Love.

But the song does have really cool Easter eggs so let's go:

I see you're driven by your detestation Your every step is stoked with animus You need a different type of motivation Or there's no way that you can handle this

Obviously, being driven by revenge doesn't work. However, there's a clever play on words here with "animus." See, Vaggie is Charlie's Jungian animus, and vice versa. The anima (or animus) is, inJungian theory, the masculine within the feminine and the feminine within the masculine. The goal is to align with your animus.

We see that in Vaggie and Charlie's respective attitudes and outfits--again, this is simplistic, but as a design choice it was deliberate. Vaggie, the more aggressive one, dresses far more feminine. Charlie, the princess who sings her heart out, dresses in suits. They're each others' animus.

I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie You're out for blood But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love

Out for love, love Think of who you care about, protect 'em and be Out for love, love You're gonna fight without gloves, long as you're out for love

Vaggie actually always wears gloves, but fingerless ones, symbolic of how she's partially letting Charlie in but still keeping part of herself back. Except now the truth is out there.

So in the final battle, it's fitting that she has new gloves. It's not practical to fight without them, but she has new ones to reflect her internal change.

Fuel yourself with the fear of losin' That somebody who's your reason to live Harnеss your heart, and you can't help choosin' To fight with all you can give

She's also wearing a harness over her heart, literally taking Carmilla's words to heart. Plus Charlie's in a dress and Vaggie in armor, showing again integration following their reconciliation.

Out for love, love Think of who you care about, protect 'em and be Out for love, love You're gonna fight without gloves And when that push comes to shove Yeah, you just might rise above, long as you're out for love

If you're out for love you might rise above... to heaven, like Sir Pentious.

Anyways continuing with my argument that Hazbin is actually theologically fascinating for Christians as a work, the focus on love also is very, uh, Biblically sound, considering 1 John says "God is love," and, well:

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. 1 Corinthians 13:1-3

So yeah. Literally angels might have power and be in "heaven," but without love, they are nothing. Which we see in the end when Adam gets stabbed by literally the lowliest at the hotel.

#ask hamliet #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel meta #vaggie #chaggie #charlie morningstar #sir pentious #cherri bomb

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lehguru · 6 months

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LATINO SONGS + ONE PIECE CHARACTERS

latino songs i relate to one piece characters and why!

info: not proofread as always, put spotify links in all of them, open to suggestions if yall want this to b a lil series or sum lol, mentions of stabbing (?)

PORTGAS D.ACE : SOU MUSA DO VERÃO - marshmello, luísa sonza

there's something about this song that makes me think of ace in the most... unhinged way. the main chorus is the thing that really stands out to me, because not only he would look gorgeous in a edit with that, it have the same hot energy that ace exhales. he is the kind of man we would see shirtless and imagine things that become a concern to feminism; and that song is exactly what we all, ace simps, want to say to him.

NAMI : ASSANHADINHA - pocah, mc durrony

nami gives the vibes of someone that does not care, period. she just does what she wants and is not afraid to own it too. i can definitely see this song on her playlist too, not only because of the way she relates to the lyrics, but also the beat itself. another big reason is simply: my girl likes to throw it back, and this is a great song to do it without problem.

NICO ROBIN : PILOTO - flora matos

i put piloto as robin's song, because 1. i ship her with franky; 2. she would totally be the type of person (the 'pilot') that is described in the song. careful? caring? loving? a good person? a scholar? pays attention? courageous? a mate? truthful? a armor bearer? if you need, dangerous? she is all of those things and much more. and that's why she will be forever the woman that holds my heart and she should hold yours too.

SABO : EU VOU COM CARINHO ELA QUER COM FORÇA - mc don juan, mc g15, mc davi

this one i will keep short and simple. a loooong time ago i saw a tiktok that had this song as a "sabo sounds like this" and i couldn't unhear it since (i cant find it again, im sorry); plus the lyrics match very very well. thats it. i cant elaborate further.

USOPP : PAPIN - mc kevin o chris, mc caja

the lyrics say everything i need to say: "fell for my talk, it's over". it's proven over and over again that usopp can lie to people easily, when he wants to. and, after the live action, i can't stop thinking about usopp trying to win you over with a sweet talk, his eyes and voice tone nervous, but so sweet it wins you over. plus, the song weirdly fits his vibe.

SANJI : RITA - tierry

i kinda refuse to explain this one, because it's almost a joke for myself, but i shall translate some of the lyrics (think that he's singing it to you): "oh love, come back. come back, love, and i will forgive the stabbing. oh, love, don't leave me alone, come back and i will pull out the charges."

DRACULE MIHAWK : ME RECLAMA - mambo kingz, dj luian, luigi 21 plus, ozuna

THIS SONG IS SO MIHAWK CODED, IT MAKES ME SICK. he knows he's the best, he always goes to you when you call him and he's not afraid to tell others that it's "not his fault he is the one you call for". his entire persona with this song in the background makes me shake, he would look extremely ethereal with his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, and his head tilted – all while his lips are whispering sweet spanish into your ear.

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

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Okay, TFP univererse but Unicron adores humans? Like, the moment he sees these feral little organics scattered around his frame he's like "What is this... adorable little creature? I guess I'm a father now." Extra points if he still poses as an eldritch abomination to Cybertronians . I'm a sucker for a character who is this ruthless and vile creature to everyone but secretly acts like a total softie towards his children😭 If you can, I would like to see reaction from both humans and Cybertronians at this development.

I love a good old bad guy (sort of) redemption arc. A dad gotta love his kiddos even if he is the destroyer of everything.

Abrupt Parenthood

When Unicron awoke and felt the presence of Cybertronians he was about ready to flip out in rage. He was so blinded by their presence initially that when Primus's disgusting Vessel appeared before him and told him of the entities living upon his surface, he did not believe it at first. However Primes were very rarely known to lie, and the one before him felt sickeningly familiar to the one he fought so long ago, and so he briefly paused to consider the given information.

As he felt around his frame he was flabbergasted to discover that the Prime was right, he was totally covered in all sorts of fleshy organic creatures. He paused for nearly ten minutes as he just took it all in, the flora, the fauna, the whole ecosystem that had flourished upon him. And most importantly, he took the time to look at the sentient little life forms that had spawned from him, the tiny and oh so fragile humans. He should have felt disgusted, but as he observed the millions of humans on his frame he found himself feeling oddly protective. And so when the Prime pleaded with him to remain in at least partial slumber, Unicron complied stating that he would need time to consider the situation.

His avatars went back into dormancy and he stopped his awakening, instead opting to watch the small entities living on his surface in awe. They were so short lived, even over the course of the few weeks he spent just watching he saw hundreds of thousands of them be born and die all within mere days of each other. Not only that but they were weak beyond words, at least physically, especially since their only armor was hardly anything of note when compared to Primus's creations. The little humans died daily due to any and all possible causes, some to accidents, some to their own stupidity, some to violence, and even more to pure bad luck. But they also showed immeasurable drive and ingenuity, every single one of them living their lives to the fullest and striving for greatness even when so small in the grand scheme of things.

They were weak, they were short lived, and they were oh so foolish in the sight of elder races. But they were the most wonderful little lifeforms Unicron had ever seen. Before he even realized it, he had grown attached to the beings that were born of him and rapidly accepted the mantle of fatherhood. He did not stop his children from doing as they wished, he did not stop their deaths or interfere in their actions. He may have been the great destroyer, but when it came to his offspring, he was much like Primus. He understood that his children needed to be left to their own devices for the most part if they were to learn. And while he did occasionally use a small avatar or highjack an animal to stop things like suicides and the like, he otherwise left the humans alone.

However his general passiveness in response to his new offspring did not stop him from harassing Primus's creations. While unable to transform or access much of his power due to the humans possibly being harmed, he could still make life difficult for the Cybertronians on his surface.

He cared little for the factions of his brother's creations, but he did tend to be more lenient with the Autobots for a host of reasons. First and foremost because they went to great lengths to protect his offspring and keep them from harms way. Secondly because the Prime, despite being Primus's horrid vessel, loved the humans he had taken on almost as much as Unicron himself. Unicron hated the Prime, but he was loath to loose such a powerful protector for his little ones. So long as Optimus lived, there was a good chance that he would continue to guard Unicron's offspring with his very spark, something the destroyer would not object to considering his situation. And of course his third reason for being kinder to them was simply because they weren't outright attempting to abuse his powers and semi-dormancy at every opportunity. There was a sense of caution that was kept, the Autobots never daring to touch his blood or interact with him at all save for the Prime's occasional attempts to speak with him and ensure he had no plans to awaken fully any time soon.

Usually Unicron's harassment ended up being small things like inconveniencing the Autobots by making it rain more often in certain areas or causing them to be unable to find energon for a while. Although he took care to ensure they didn't starve, he needed them alive for the time being after all. He purposefully liked to bother Optimus by sending ominous signs, leaving the Prime on edge for weeks and usually never doing anything with it. He also made sure that the tree humans under their care were always kept safe, even going out of his way to awaken an avatar when required to keep them from harm. While not usually his way of going about things, he only wanted his children to die naturally, not because of his brother's children's petty war. He was half tempted to try and give the human children gifts or something of the like to protect them, but upon noticing their fear and the general toxicity of his blood, he put that plan aside and served as a protector only when required.

The Decepticons however received no such leniency. While normally Unicron would be pleased with Cybertronians handing themselves over to him in exchange for power, this instance was different. Megatron wanted to rule Cybertron, and Unicron could care less. But the warlord had expressed a desire to cyberform earth as well, destroying all life upon its surface, and that could not stand. Earth and its inhabitants belonged to him, no one was allowed to touch his children, especially not a wayward brat of Primus. So he made life as miserable for the Decepticons as possible without outright murdering them. He would prefer if the Cybertronians wiped each other out, so why get rid of either faction? So long as they obliterated themselves he wouldn't have to worry about retribution from his brother or possible threats from them in the future.

Usually he tended to just screw over the Nemesis's flight patterns with terrible storm and other elemental hazards. He also found it incredibly entertaining to make life harder for the Vehicons in the mines. He sometimes made a few terrorcons with old corpses just to watch the Decepticon troops scream. Screwing with Megatron through strange visions and odd dreams was also funny, especially when the warlord couldn't figure out why he was dreaming of frolicking with the Autobots and doing the tango with Ratchet. It was just so much fun for Unicron to mess with Shockwave too, often subtly altering experiments of his to watch the scientist silently fume. He usually didn't do anything actually harmful unless the Decepticons harmed his humans, in which case he would gladly throw terrorcons at them or shoot their ship with lightening and the like as a warning.

The humans are his children. No one screws with them unless they want a very pissed of god of destruction doing everything in his power to ruin their life.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #unicron #team prime #decepticons #unicron is a dad and he is fine with that #evil god loves his kids but will f up anyone else who dares so much as look at his offspring wrong #“His children are perfectly fine! F you!”

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