#not too serious though like no one died but one of them was a Child. and okay i have morals i guess

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

#♡ — anon visit. #✦ — headcanons. #✦ — fluff. #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe #childe x reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #signora #signora x reader #sandrone #sandrone x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #pulcinella #pulcinella x reader #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #columbina #columbina x reader #dottore #dottore x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #pierro #pierro x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader

[hairmetal666]

Read Part One here

cw: implied child abuse

Eddie's coming over for coffee. Not Eddie with Nancy and Robin or Eddie with the kids. Just Eddie.

They haven't been alone in 9 years and now Eddie is coming over for coffee.

They're friends, of course. After Vecna they didn't have much of a choice, but they've never talked about it--that they used to be something.

After Steve kissed Eddie goodbye for what turned out to be the last time, they didn't see each other again for months and months, except for a devastatingly fleeting moment in the Family Video parking lot. And the next time after that, Eddie's pinning him to the wall of a rickety boathouse, a broken bottle to his throat.

What's going through his mind, his body, at that moment is relief. For days, weeks, months, he ached for Eddie's touch again, and even though he was in danger, he relished in the push of their bodies together. Thought, if this is how he dies, he won't mind going.

But they don't talk about it, about them, because Eddie is on the run and Max is going to die, and they have to save the world, so there's no time. In the aftermath, it's the least of their worries, and now it's been almost a decade and Eddie is coming over for coffee.

The thing is, it's not like Steve has been pining away for a love long lost in the intervening years, and neither has Eddie. They've both had longterm, serious relationships; Steve almost got married. But for Steve...Eddie is the one that's lingered, the one that knocks around his ribcage on late sleepless nights, the one that makes him dream of what might have been. Because Steve truly loved his other partners, but Eddie--nobody will ever compare.

Someone is knocking a rhythm at his front door, and he can't stifle his smile even as his heart runs riot in his chest.

"Hey, man," he says, remarkably nonchalant as he takes Eddie in. Still beautiful, still brimming with energy; his smile wide and dimpled, bouncing on his toes.

"Harrington!" Eddie grabs him into a quick side hug, slapping his back. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

Steve chuckles, touching the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh, god, Robin forced me to get them back in '87? Too many concussions." He touches his forehead. "I usually just wear contacts."

"It's a good look," Eddie says. He's very much not looking at Steve, eyes roaming around the Chicago apartment he's been to many times before.

He watches as Eddie spots the display of his own books, index finger slowly slipping across the spines in a way that makes Steve remember when those same fingers would slide down his spine. He stifles a shiver, turns towards the kitchen.

"So, how's New York? How's the book coming?"

"Livin' the dream." It's not flippant, not like how most people mean it. Eddie leaks genuineness, always has. "The book though...it's a little rough."

Steve sets the coffee maker going, brings fresh pastries and a couple plates over to the table. "I can imagine. It doesn't--it doesn't have to be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, if only I hadn't written three other books leading up to the evil mind wizard," Eddie chuckles. He grabs a croissant and tears it in half. "It'll be alright, Harrington. I'll figure it out. I lived through it the first time, after all."

Steve doesn't remind him that he almost didn't, that they almost didn't. Instead, he pours coffee, listens as Eddie talks about how to fictionalize the worst month of their collective lives.

He splashes milk into Eddie's coffee, taps in three scoops of sugar. He carries it to where Eddie waits, still talking about the logistics of Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One in his novel, but his words abruptly stop as his hands wrap around the porcelain.

"Steve?"

It's only then that Steve realizes what he's done--made Eddie's coffee like he took it back then, made it without thinking, totally on muscle memory, when the best of his mornings were spent in Eddie's arms.

His cheeks glow crimson and he grips at the back of his neck. "S-sorry." He says. "It--is this still how you take it?"

"Yeah." Eddie's eyes fall from Steve's face, his own cheeks pink. "It's--yeah. Still the same."

"I'm sorry--"

"--Steve, I--"

They don't laugh. They both stop speaking and look at each other, faces still red. Steve thinks there's nothing for it but to get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never came back. I'm sorry I didn't explain why. I'm just--really, really sorry."

Eddie's eyes are hooked on the table top, fingers twisting and twisting his coffee mug. "Can I--why? I waited and you--why?"

Steve swallows, but it gets stuck in his throat, and now he's the one who can't look up from his hands.

"My parents got home early," he manages. "My dad, he was waiting for me. I guess one of the neighbors thought it best to tell them who I'd been spending my time with."

Silence falls over the table, and he chances a look up at the man across from him, the one whose knuckles bite into his lips, whose eyes shine with unshed tears.

"You should've called me. You should've--you could've stayed with us. We would've kept you safe."

"Eddie, I couldn't. I physically couldn't," the admission costs him so much.

"Steve," Eddie chokes on his name, voice nothing but anguish. "Did anyone--You could've--you were all alone."

He shakes his head. "Robin knew. She snuck through my window to take care of me, but my parents--I couldn't--" This time the words really won't come. "We made a plan. We started that job at Family Video, and we saved up our money."

Now, Eddie's face is creased with grief. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Steve shakes his head, smiles despite the wreckage around his heart. "You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I left you with no explanation. I broke your heart. And--and--" He thinks, what does it hurt to say it at this point. "I love you. I love you so much. I convinced myself you were better off without me, that we could have a clean break and you could get over me."

Eddie's hands cover his face, muffle the sob that slips out. "Get over you?" He whispers. "There's never been one like you, sweetheart."

He slides around the table to kneel at Eddie's side. "Hey." Deep brown eyes stare back at him, Eddie's face wet with tears. "It's always you, Ed. Always. I didn't want to say anything, if you had moved on, but--"

There's not really any transition from them talking to them kissing; Steve slips into it like he did all those years ago, when he first asked for Eddie's kiss. Their mouths slot together, their bodies fit like they always used to, perfect puzzle pieces. Steve's knees give out at the first brush of Eddie's tongue, and they collapse into a heap on the kitchen floor. Even then, they don't part.

Eventually, Steve does break the embrace, face flushed and hair a disaster, glasses hanging off one ear. "Okay, trying to be responsible here. Should we take a pause, go on a date first? Slow down?"

"Nine years isn't slow enough?" Eddie's pupils are blown, hair frizzed around his head.

"When you put it that way," Steve can't help but laugh. "I just want to do right by you, Eddie. Make up for--everything."

Eddie grins down at him, that sunshine beam smile where his dimples pop. "Tell you what, how bout you take me to bed now, and I'll let you take me on a date tomorrow?"

"Oh, you'll let me?" Steve rakes a hand through Eddie's mane of hair. "I don't think you'll have any choice."

"You sure about that, Stevie?" Their lips are so close, the brush with every word.

"Uh-huh," Steve's having trouble keeping his eyes focused, overwhelmed by the sheer force of Eddie Munson. "Never letting you go again, Ed."

Surprise! Part 2! I genuinely had no intention on doing a follow-up, but so many of you asked so nicely that it gave me this idea. Sorry if I miss anyone in the tag list and thank you for reading! @everywherenothere @tiny-enthusiast @emma-elsa-0000 @fuzzyduxk @moonythepluviophile @anaibis @rhapsodyinalto @bunk12bear @tillystealeaves @velocitytimes2 @s-trawberryv-eins @marklee-blackmore @ignoremyworld @its-a-me-a-morgan @goodolefashionedloverboi @starman-jpg @djohawke @adaydreamaway08

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #getting back together #mutual pining #fluff #ficlet #part 2 #time jump #a tiny bit of angst #here's the happy ending #implied child abuse #part one was august i guess part two is the one #we were something don't you think so #and if my wishes came true it would've been you #jk eddie is the one #they're in love your honor #steve's parents are pieces of shit

[remember-the-fanfics]

Heya! Saw you were in need of some hazbin requests- would you be okay writing something angsty? I liked your earthborn idea, so you can use that concept for the reader <3 maybe teen!reader is having a rly tough time mentally at the hotel? Panic attacks, loss of appetite, the whole lot of it. You can take this anywhere it goes, I won’t mind. And if you can’t/don’t want to write it no worries! (Also, on a serious note I am getting help currently. Please don’t worry about my mental well-being ❤️)

So abrupt ending, ran out of idea and then got a headache, hope you're doing well. <3

Cut because readers thoughts get real panicked

You weren't a sinner, you haven't even died yet.

Why were you here?

Was everyone right? Did you truly deserve this?

They can't be-, you are still mortal. Then why were you even in Hell?

Why Why why-

You couldn't tell anyone, not that you don't trust them! All of the people (are they even still people if they are dead? Demons?), are nice and you just don't want to worry them with the truth.

-

"Have any of you seen (Y/n)? They are always willing to help me with taste testing my food?" Niffty asked after finishing cooking for the hotel.

"Haven't actual seen them today. I think they are sleeping though the day. I would." Said Husk, cleaning a glass.

"They've been skittish the past few days when they aren't in their room." Alastor stated, "More jumpy that usual."

"(Y/n) haven't been like this since they first got here." Said Charlie with a remorseful look. "I hope I didn't push them to hard on redemption, I know they can be sensitive about certain things."

"Like how all of this could be for nothing?" Said Alastor with a chuckle. "They might realize that and miss their old life. Realizing that they can't actually get better than hell."

"I'm checking on them." Said Vaggie, getting up and heading towards (Y/n)'s room.

"Just don't be too pushy! And make sure they've eaten! And water!" Said Charlie after Vaggie.

-

Vaggie remembers the look on your face when you realized you were in Hell being the one who found you wondering aimlessly. Your transition to a sinner wasn't a pretty one, after accepting Charlie's offer at the hotel the two didn't see you for almost two weeks. Vaggie thought you left until Charlie convinced you to come out of your room.

You look lost when you opened the door. The two only realized that you were young, not a child but not completely an adult. Charlie didn't force you to talk about what you were thinking, just got you to eat something and drink water then take a shower with some borrowed clothes.

Vaggie had moved you to a closer room to the two of them. You didn't have anything to move out so you just followed the two. They kept an eye on you since, making sure you realized that this wasn't the end.

Vaggie grumbled on her breath, standing infront of your door. Knocking with no answer.

"Kid, I know you're in there. Just want to make sure you're okay."

"..."

"(Y/n) did one of these assholes do something? I'll kick their ass if they did." Vaggie continued. "... You haven't closed yourself off like this since you first got here."

Hearing a sniffle after bring that up, clued Vaggie in what might be wrong.

"Look, I'm not like Charlie and will break the door down instead of talking to you for 2 weeks waiting for you to open it."

" 'm fine Vaggie."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"..."

"Or drank any water? Or even took a shower?"

"Give me a second."

-

(Y/n) would have jump out of the window if it wasn't that far. They looked for any escape route from Vaggie and the conversation they would have. (Y/n) could hide in the closet but they spent their childhood in there, they dont want to go back.

With a quick push the trash under their bed and make themselves presentable, they open the door and Vaggie look unimpressed.

"Come on, Niffty made food. You're eating." Said Vaggie not giving (Y/n) a chance to say no by grabbing their hand and pulling them along.

"Okay..."

"Charlie gonna want to know what upset you." Said Vaggie, (Y/n) groaned in response.

"Can't we just say I'm fine? I don't want to talk about it."

"You're not fine. You've not closed yourself off in awhile."

"I needed some me time?"

"That shouldn't include ignoring your health."

-

Well it was the most awkward dinner, everyone was trying not to stare at (Y/n)'s disheveled shape while eating. (Y/n) ate almost half the plate before pushing it away.

"I'm full." They said.

"You haven't eaten in a week, you need to finish." Said Husk.

"That's all I can eat right now. If I try I'll probably vomit it back up which will put me back in square one." Said (Y/n), trying not to get annoyed with the others for caring.

"You still need to hydrate." Vaggie said putting down a glass of water infront of them, (Y/n) grimace at the glass as water didn't taste good to them.

"Fine just can you all go back to eatting your own food?" (Y/n) said, sipping on the water while everyone grumbled and went back to their own plates of food. Everyone became silent while eating when it just became to loud in (Y/n)'s head again.

-

You were fine, everything was fine. This water was... water. The food was fine.

Everything was just fine. Everyone was fine.

Why then didn't it feel fine?

Why couldn't you feel fine?

Because you were in hell-

Like all the people your family said would be there-

People like

You.

But you shouldn't be here. You never died, you don't even look like the people down here.

Down down down, why does you life always go that direction?

You really should breath.

-

The first one to notice was the only one who didn't take her eyes off of (Y/n), Charlie, seeing that (Y/n) just stops everything. Charlie went to them quickly, not touching them yet. Crouching down next to their chair, having everyone watching now. Vaggie gotten out of her own chair ready to help at any moment.

"(Y/n)? Are you-?"

(Y/n) took a quick inhale, barely putting down their glass in time for their body to exhale. Charlie realized that they were breathing too fast while (Y/n) realized they were panicking infront of people.

"(Y/n)?" Asked Charlie, startling (Y/n) out of their thoughts and almost out of their chair. They looked like a frighten animal at Charlie.

"...Fine, 'm fine, t'is fine, promise." (Y/n) said, trying to not worry Charlie.

"Just focus on your breath." Said Charlie. "Just close your eyes and focus, in for 5, hold for 5, and exhale for 5."

(Y/n) squeezed their eyes shut, trying to focus their ragged breathing to calm down.

Just focus

After a few minutes, (Y/n) keep their eyes closed not wanting to face everyone.

"Better?" Asked Vaggie.

"Hmm." (Y/n) mumbled in response.

"Want to take a shower, while I get Niffty to fix up your room?"

"Hm- yeah."

-

While (Y/n) being in the shower, Charlie and Vaggie went with Niffty to (Y/n)'s room. Which just was littered with all things; trash, clothes, and random things.

"I never seen their room this messy before, hope there aren't any bugs. If there are any, they wouldn't be for long." Said Niffty getting to work quickly.

Charlie helped by ridding the bed of covers, pillows, and sheets. Vaggie taking anything that seemed dirty to be washed and getting new bedding for the bed, while looking for clean clothes for (Y/n) to wear.

"What do you think bothering them so much?" Asked Charlie.

"Probably thinking that they'll be suck here forever." Said Niffty.

"...That's probably true but they believe in redemption that I'm working on, are they second guess it?"

"(Y/n) has a habit of pushing their problems away until they can't." Said Husk, standing at the door way with a drink. "I'll take the clothes to them if you want." He said to Vaggie before she handed him the clothes.

"But they know we are here for them. Why can't they trust us with helping them though this?"

"They are probably use to going though it by themselves, they don't usually talk about who they were before hell." Said Vaggie, putting a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "We'll be here to help them up again when they need it."

"I know, I just want the help them before it gets to this." Said Charlie before (Y/n) appeared in the doorway of their room.

"Oh wow, you all did a good job. It looks way better." Said (Y/n) nervously after hearing what Charlie said. "I apologize for what happened. Not use to people wanting to help me before it becomes their problem when it gets to big."

"Well we'll be here if you ever want to talk about it." Said Charlie.

"Thanks. I'll try if it happens again."

#platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #earthborn reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin Vaggie #hazbin niffty #i didnt put Alastor here because the bitch would probably laugh or try and murder someone for you

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Tommy x wife reader: Charlie and Ruby are theirs (no grace or lizzie) and they have a few other children, in order of their ages: Charles (Charlie) James (Jamie) Edward (Teddie) Ruby (Ru)

And just after Ruby dies and Tommy finds out he’s dying, his wife finds out she is pregnant again and she is just traumatised by it as she’s lost her only daughter and her aunt-in-law and about to lose her husband too

But Tommy doesn’t die and they have a baby girl, who they name Rose Elizabeth, because Ruby loved roses and after Polly and they nickname her Posy as a portmanteau of Rosy and Polly

Hey Love,

Sorry it took forever. This one is pretty sad and I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Peaky Themes, Childbirth, Child death, grieving.

Not a single dull day had passed in Arrow House. It was always loud as the children ran around causing chaos. Today was so silent you could drop a tack in the kitchen and hear it in the attic. 

You lay on the floor of your youngest daughter's room. Your little girl. The grief clenched in your chest and you felt your heart miss a beat as your body twisted in on itself. You’d never felt such a loss in your life. 

Now you have a baby in your stomach, your husband is going to die leaving you with three boys. You knew you should be with him, enjoy his presence while you have him here amongst the living.

How could you worry about anything after watching your daughter slip from the world just a day ago? You remember holding her hand and singing to her. Thomas holding it together just until her eyes fluttered closed before falling apart in a way you didn't think him capable of. 

You sat there silently. Something deep inside you felt at peace. She was safe where she was. Polly was with her. Knowing something deep in your soul had never taken away from the way your brain and body worked. 

Your body hadn’t stopped shaking since it happened. Your limbs vibrating as you lay on her pink carpet. You felt discarded like all the stuffies and dolls that lay on the floor around you. Without her to come and breathe life into you, you would stay on the carpet like a doll. 

Teddie was the first person to find you. His small body came and curled up against your side. The warmth of him seeped into your icy body. 

A mother could only stop being a mother once she had no children left. And you had three. This moment of sadness and grief couldn't go on for the eternity you felt it needed. You had boys to wrangle. Little Ruby adored her brothers and you knew she wouldn't ever forgive you if you let them down. 

With the strength of a British Mum, you brushed the tears off your cheeks with the side of your hand. You sat up even though every selfish part of you screamed to lay back down on that carpet. To rot away to a place where you could hold her again. 

“Hey, Teddie.” You whispered running a hand down the small boy’s back. 

“Mum I’m hungry.” He mumbled.

“Teddie! Dad said we have to leave her alone.” Charlie was in the doorway, with his arms crossed. His tone was angry and you could swear he looked years older than the last time you saw him. 

“Darling, never leave me alone.” You said giving him a serious look. His face faltered slightly as he took in your words. “I’m still a mum. And mum’s make dinner, let’s go. Into the kitchen.” 

Teddie was happy and you picked him up even though he was far too big for that now. Walking down the hallway, Charlie surprised you when he opened Jamie’s door. 

You sat Teddie on his favorite spot on the counter and started getting out various pots and pans. 

“She’s up.” He said and your middle boy came into the hallway. Silently the four of you made it into the kitchen. Grief was creeping in all the shadows of the room as Charlie made a fire. 

“Ruby isn't coming home is she?” Teddie asked. Charlie let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in the way only the eldest child could. 

“No, she’s with Aunt Polly now. They live in the sky.” Jamie answered softly. You gripped the edges of the pot tightly as you pushed down the intense feelings threatening to overflow again. 

The window opened and you could hear her voice on the wind that whipped around your face. 

Keep Going.  

That’s what you did. Death be dammed you’d made a deal with God to sacrifice and survive for these boys and that’s what you would do. 

With a cracking heart you closed the window and looked around the kitchen at the boy's stunned faces. 

“Please tell me you heard that as well right?” Charlie said with wide eyes. 

______________________________________________________________

One dinner down a lifetime left to go. 

The weeks turned into a month and the pain did not relent. You had no moments of peace only the love felt by shared grieving. Esme was always around now. All the kids lumped together in Arrow House like the days of the Changretta feud. She made sure your hair got brushed and your outfits matched. 

Arthur came around every day. He kept Tommy together while they worked out all this conflict. He feels a war is coming and you couldn't imagine it could be anything worse than the one raging in your mind. Alfie stops by and tells you things that confirm it will be much worse. 

Three boys, and a war. 

You put your make-up on so you have a reason not to cry during the day. 

You spend every evening with Tommy. You know what he is doing is important. It could change the outcome for the rest of the families on the planet. So you sacrifice your time with him and survive on the couch reading. When really you just stare into the fire wishing everything would burn up to be reborn as something new. 

Three boys and one more undetermined in your stomach. Your hand rested there often. You expected to lose the baby so you didn't really think about it. If they did come into this world you prayed it would be before Tommy passed. Grieving with a baby in your stomach would be easier than grieving with a newborn. But you wanted them to meet their father, even if it was for a fleeting moment. You would suffer and survive. 

Tommy finally got over himself and got a second opinion. He hated doctors and you expected him to be in a foul mood when he got back from a series of appointments in London. Alfie accompanied him back and you placed a plate of biscuits and cups of tea on the kitchen table. The kitchen was for family, but Alfie somehow managed to get an invitation out of Tommy. You were always happy to see him, but were wary of the news he often brought these days. You took a seat and he grabbed your hand and held it.  Your mind flashed back to the good old days when something so small would have sent Tommy after him in a rage. 

Alfie knew better than to ask how you were keeping. Tommy finally sat down at the head of the table, he looked pale. Too pale to drive, which explains why Alfie had come back with him. 

“I’m not sick.” His eyes closed and he leaned back against the chair. 

“What?” You whispered. 

“The f-uck-ing doctor was working for that stupid mustache piece of shit,” Alfie said his voice was venomous but his smile was unshakeable. 

“You're not going to die.” Your eyes moved to Tommy and he shook his head.  

“Going to have to wait a while longer to steal you away, love.” Alfie's voice was all humor now, but he knew it was time to let go of your hand when Tommy flashed him a look. The look of the old Tommy. 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out. 

“Looks like I dodged a bullet. Last thing I wanted to be raising up another little Shelby brat.” Alfie was laughing and Tommy smiled. A genuine smile. 

You were happy, and then the brutal deafening sadness crashed down on you. The sheer panic of having a child hits again and the nausea has you throwing your head back in the sink. Tommy is there pulling your hair up. 

“Like she would ever go for you,” Tommy said easily taking a sip of tea.

“Shit,” Alfie says from the counter near you. He gets a glass for Tommy to fill with water. 

____________________________________________________________

You told Esme and you both held on to each other as you cried. 

“I never thought I would say this but thank God Tommy will be alright.” She shook her head as the words strangled her. “You’ll never have to know what it’s like to raise em up with out their father.” 

You both cried on the kitchen floor for a long while. 

_________________________________________

The time came and you had high blood pressure meaning you had to do things in the hospital. Something that made everything a thousand times more painful. But that was your baby, and you would sacrifice and they would survive. 

They kept trying to medicate you and Esme kept throwing nurses out of the room screaming at them in Romani when English wasn't scary enough. In the thick of it you kept crying out for Polly. 

You didn't want these strangers to help you. They didn't care about you or your baby. They weren't family. Arthur came and spoke to Esme in the doorway for a moment. You expected news that Tommy wouldn't make it in time or that something worse had happened. 

Instead, Esme handed you one of Polly’s rosaries to hold. You gripped the cold crystal beads and felt yourself split apart over all the reasons you were crying. 

Tommy showed up and commanded the room with Esme. The window blew open letting cold air around the room and you could feel her love for you. 

You gave birth to a little girl. 

There were no pictures taken as you bawled. You got her latched on to your breast and cried and cried. The nurses kept pushing for sedation but Esme started at them and Tommy pointed towards the door. Arthur came in and read a passage from his bible for you. You're not sure why exactly but it helped. It felt like a blessing that this baby would be alright. 

_______________________________________________

You brought her home the same night, itching to get out of the hospital. You carried her in and watched all your boys get excited. You handed her off to Charlie first. 

“I love it when they look like grumpy old men,” Jamie said with a smile, Teddie let out a loud laugh. 

“She does look like an old man.” 

“What did you name her?” Charlie asked his finger tracing down the slope of her nose. 

“Rose Elizabeth,” Tommy said sitting next to him placing his arm around his eldest son. 

“Posy then,” Charlie said with a sense of finality. 

Charlie, Jamie, Teddie, and Posy. Your heart was happy and sad at the same time. 

Jamie came round and put his arm around you. 

“Love you mum.” He whispered and you wondered when he got old enough to kiss the top of your head. The boys were strong like their father, and you had no doubts they were strong enough to carry you and Posy.

_______________________________________________________________

This chunk of time was easier than it was with the other four kids. Tommy took time off. Churchill had other moves he wanted to play and for now, Tommy wasn’t involved. 

He’d sit while you breastfed in the night, he’d change nappies, and read stories. You watched him be a girl dad again and the pain was harsh and beautiful at the same time. 

Esme helped you take down Ruby’s room. The idea of moving one of the boys to a different floor or wing of the house made your skin itch. Ruby’s room needed to be emptied. 

You aired the room out and you knew that she would be happy about giving it to her sister. Esme assured you at every turn that she wouldn't be angry at you. 

_______________________

Eventually Arrow House moved on. Posy was very attached to the idea she had both an Aunt and a sister in the sky watching over her. 

The war came and what was left of the family did what they had to do. Thankfully Posy was there with you so you were never alone.

Thankfully when it was all over all your boys came home to you.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #dad tommy shelby #peaky blinds fic #peaky blinders request

[in1-nutshell]

Bot Buddy who is Bulkhead's older sibling, member of the Elite Guard, interacting with Team Prime

SFW, familial, platonic, Cybertronian/ Bot reader

Transformers Prime

Part 3 of 3

“… Bulkhead did you adopted this one or something?”—Buddy

The team is surprised to see Buddy get on their knees to pay more attention to the humans. Buddy later gets an altmode with them and gets to hang out with Bulkhead.

Speak of which has not left Buddy’s side since the tackling. He wants to catch up on everything with them. Bulkhead is a bit hesitant when they are put out on the field without him. It makes him antsy. Not because he thinks that they can’t handle themselves. Mainly because his deep fear is them disappearing like last time and it being permanent.

“Buddy just promise me to not take on anything you know you can’t handle, okay?”--Bulkhead

“Don’t worry Bulk. Anyways it’s my job to worry about you not the other way around.”--Buddy

“Can we both worry about the other?”--Bulkhead

“… Alright.”—Buddy

He nearly had a spark attack seeing Buddy launch themselves straight at Predaking.

“Get off of him!!!”--Bulkhead

They did well by themselves for a while too. Whenever both are paired together, it is the equivalent of several semitrucks ramming into one another.

They do have their little sibling spats, mainly over little things like where to play lob or if it is necessary to break some things.

“Why are Bulkhead and Buddy not speaking this time?”--Wheeljack

“Bulkhead accidentally knocked down Buddy’s Jenga game.”—Miko

Miko via osmosis was now Buddy’s other sibling/charge. If Miko isn’t with Bulkhead or Wheeljack she is most likely with Buddy. Miko likes doing trust fall from Buddy’s height. Buddy has expressed the displeasure of the action, but they are powerless against Miko’s puppy eyes. Absolutely loves her to death though.

“Am your new charge now?”--Miko

“Miko you aren’t my charge.”--Buddy

“…”--Miko

“You’re my child now.”—Buddy

Jack is a bit wary of Buddy due to their giant size but gets used to them after a bit. Doesn’t hang out with Buddy that often but knows that he can trust Buddy.

“So, how’s things at school working out?”--Buddy

“There okay. I got a B in today’s Math test.”--Jack

“That’s nice.”--Buddy

Raf loves telling Buddy stories about his day and what has happened before their arrival.

“Then what happened?”--Raf

“I got his shaft and rammed to the side of the build to stop the both of us from falling off of the exercise course!”--Buddy

“Cool!”--Raf

When June and Fowler see Buddy they think that maybe Buddy was a former Decepticon turned Autobot. They are a bit shocked to find out that they are related to Bulkhead. They don’t mind Buddy. Often if the three of them are alone they are often found talking about the stress of looking after others.

“So, I’m not the only one here that dies a little inside when Miko starts running to the ground bridge?”--Buddy

“That’s right.”--June

“Yes.”—Agent Fowler

Has told both June and Fowler that if any harm were to come towards the kids that they would do whatever it takes to get them to safety. It’s a bit of a reliever but they still worry.

“I would die for them.”--Buddy

“Well that’s nice for you to look after the kids.”--June

“I. Would. Die. For. Them.”--Buddy

“…”—June and Agent Fowler

Buddy has already told Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead that they could be a sub and would absolutely lay their life down to make sure the kids are okay.

Bumblebee doesn’t like the way they talk and later asks if they want to talk about it.

Bumblebee via osmosis is now small sibling.

“Mine now.”--Buddy

“Beep?(What?)”—Bumblebee

Arcee tries brushing it off, but deep down is a bit concerned and relieved knowing that Jack has another pair of optics on him.

“I would die for Jack.”--Buddy

“What?”--Arcee

Bulkhead understandably is the most upset of the three because he knows that Buddy is dead serious. Don’t get him wrong, having another pair of optics on Miko from going into the ground bridge is a huge relief but he also doesn’t want to lose them.

“I would die for you and Miko.”--Buddy

“…please don’t…”--Bulkhead

Buddy and Smokescreen surprisingly get along well. The team later finds out its because he was constantly following Buddy during their time in the Elite Guard.

“Remember when I put a bunch of bolts in some of the stun guns?”--Smokescreen

“Remember when I beat you in the shooting range on the bet of a couple of rust sticks?”--Buddy

Ratchet is a bit hesitant with Buddy. Mainly because he is worried, he has to deal with another Bulkhead that’s twice as destructive. But is surprised in how gentle they are and how they manage to keep others from bothering Ratchet for too long, has respect for Buddy.

“Miko how about we go on a ride together and not bother Ratchet.”--Buddy

“Thank you.”--Ratchet

Optimus is just glad that he has another member join their forces. And sometimes engage in some small talk.

“Did you ever sit on that one bench in Iacon that always seemed tittering whenever you’d put any weight on it?”--Buddy

“… yes, I remember that bench.”—Optimus

Wheeljack constantly tries to break Buddy out of their shell. He wants to see the bot that annihilated those cons constantly.

“C’mon just go berserker one more time.”--Wheeljack

“For the last time Wheeljack no.”--Buddy

“You’ll end up like Magnus if you keep having a stick up—”--Wheeljack

“If I do it one more time, will you stop it?”--Buddy

“Maybe.”—Wheeljack

Ultra Magnus to everyone he looks like he has a strict coworker relationship. But really, he has one of the closest relationships with Buddy. Absolutely has Buddy’s back on the battlefield and at the base. Has bend rules a bit if it’s for Buddy.

“Buddy.”--Magnus

“Ultra Magnus sir.”--Buddy

“How are this evening’s reports coming along?”--Magnus

“All written down, except the most recent one.”--Buddy

“That was our patrol, no?”--Magnus

“Yes, sir. It should get done as soon as I finish with Miko’s music practice.”--Buddy

“No need to do that report. I will handle it.”--Magnus

“Oh? Thank you, Ultra Magnus, sir.”--Buddy

“Please, Ultra Magnus is perfectly fine.”--Magnus

“Then, thank you Ultra Magnus.”—Buddy

“…What was that?!”--Miko

“…”--Bulkhead

“Miko?! What have I said about eavesdropping?”--Buddy

“…”--Bulkhead

Bulkhead doesn’t know what to think about it.

#transformers #transformers x reader #tfp #tfp bulkhead #tfp bumblebee #tfp optimus prime #tfp arcee #tfp wheeljack #tfp ultra magnus #tfp smokescreen #tfp ratchet #tfp jack #tfp june #tfp miko #tfp raf #tfp fowler #bot buddy #maccadam

[hypostatic-oath]

I'm so happy you like my ask (this is long overdue).

I bet that the people of Fontaine are very happy because i have been doing nothing but hanging out with the Melusine instead of doing the archon quest(though that will eventually come to an end soon). I also bet that new laws/regulations are being proposed because the amount of wacky stuffs the Traveler and their companions is up to all the time. Imagine you just joined the Traveler's team and your first experience is watching a forest watcher beat up some of Fontaine's local legends lmao (and after your recent post, Childe is seething if he learned of this).

Can i be 🚬 anon?(unless you don't do that here)

Named anons? On my blog? Omg I feel honored - of course you can be 🚬 anon! Welcome :D

New laws being proposed because of the traveler is amazing. It has the same vibe as that gliding law in Mondstadt about taking off using anemo slimes (yes, it works, no, it is not very useful as far as I know. I don't even remember if you get an achievement), because you KNOW there's a story behind it, someone must have tried it and it must've gone very, very wrong, and the wacky circumstances that lead to the creation of new laws would be hilarious to witness.

However, on a more serious note, Wriothesley and Neuvillette would be grappling with the issue of teleportation - how do you arrest someone who can simply just... leave? It doesn't matter how secure a prison is if a bored entity can just take control of one of the prisoners and whisk them away on a whim? Worse yet, since Wriothesley is officially a Vessel, what would happen if an Overseer decided to take control of him and sign official pardons? New rules in the Fortress of Meropide have been implemented - any orders given by the Duke while he is on the team are automatically overruled unless it can be proven that he is acting of his own accord.

I can only imagine how confusing it feels for the newcomers to suddenly join the team and find themselves in the kind of situations the Traveler faces daily... and for the onlookers, of course. "Oh, I wonder who that newcomer is... such a distingushed gentleman, perhaps he's here on business?" "Guys, not to scare you or anything, but that 'distinguished gentleman' dropped a meteor on a crab." "Oh, yes, that huge crab in the-" "No. A regular crab. On the smaller side, even. He just threw a huge meteor at it - didn't even bat an eye. The crab practically disintegrated." "What the hell."

And for those that don't know their teammates - any of the knights of Favonius being placed on a team with Klee know exactly what she's capable of, but someone less familiar with her is about to be shocked. "What in Celestia's name is the Overseer thinking? This is a child, she'll get hu- oh. Oh no."

On the other hand, imagine being a nun-turned-idol, looking to the side to check who your teammates are, and there's the Raiden Shogun standing there as if it's no big deal. A little bird lands on her fingers. She watches it with a wistful expression as it flies away. You look to the other side and see the Dendro Archon chatting with that kind but often drunk bard as if they're old friends. You find yourself in what looks like a domain but soon realise, with no small amount of dread, that you're in the Abyss. At least you have two Archons beside you... Barbatos help you, the challenge has started and there are more monsters than you thought. You're doing your best to keep all your teammates alive - you wouldn't forgive yourself if you were the indirect cause for the fall of a god. So you sing your song and put the hydro circle around your team, but there's just too many enemies, coming from all sides... And then you hear a faint "ehe", and the specters are pulled into a vortex of wind. The Shogun doesn't even need to pull out her signature move, just the swirl reaction the bard has caused is enough. You see him shoot down one of the things with a single Anemo-infused arrow. It dies immediately. He's dealing damage on par with the two Archons on the team. Just what is this bard capable of? Suddenly those rumors about him being Barbatos are starting to seem a little less nonsensical. Surely, it couldn't be true, right? You have half a mind to ask him about it once the four of you exit the Abyss, but as soon as you find yourself outside and able to regain your breath he just gives you a "whoops, gotta go!" and floats away on a wind current you're pretty sure he just created.

Now that I think of it, it'd be fun to imagine how different team dynamics would work - I'll make a separate post for this, but if you've read this far and want to send in asks with your team comps... 👀

#cube.answers #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin au #sagau overseer #🚬 anon

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Past

A/N: Nervous and excited. This whole series should be about 9 chapters.

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst, brief mentions of child abuse

Length: 2900 ish

Summary: A bit of back story and we find out who Pip is.

Previous     Masterlist     Next

The first time Jake saw you you were five years old on the school playground. At eleven he had felt all the responsibility of a big brother to look out for his little sister, Sami, on her first day of kindergarten. So when recess came around he was watching for her.  

Sami had come charging up to him and tackled him with a hug, knocking him to the ground and pushing the wind out of him. You had come sprinting after her, bruised knees, skinny arms, and big eyes in a too thin face. You had looked so short compared to his little sister who, even at five, had the tall Seresin genes, though in reality you were probably the same size as the other five year olds. 

You had grabbed his sister and pulled her off of him. “Sami! Be careful we can't get in trouble!” you had glanced around for teachers, a worried look on your face. Sami had introduced you, “this is my brother, Jake!” She had laughed then, "I am allowed to crash into him.”

“You should listen to Pipsqueak.” He massaged his ribs as he got up. “She'll keep you out of trouble.”

“That's not my name!” your indignant answer had made him smile. 

“Yeah, but it suits you.” He had chuckled and it was the name that stuck. In time more people knew you by Pip than your actual name.

That's how it had always been, Pip and Sami. Everyone would always comment on how his little sister was the bad influence for poor little Pip. He understood, Sami was reckless, she always had been, with just enough regard for rules to keep her out of serious trouble. And you were always by her side, usually with a plausible enough excuse or alibi to get them out of the impending consequences. You knew the school conduct policy to the letter and used every loophole you could to get out of trouble. It didn’t always work.

He would know. His Dad had gotten sick when he was sixteen. It had been Jake who drove to the elementary school to pick the two of you up from detention or from whatever unofficial community services style reparations the two of you had been assigned to make up for Sami’s shenanigans. 

All of his mothers time had been taken up by working at the diner and caring for his father in his final year. Jake had gotten an after school job to help out and worked nearly thirty hours a week on top of school and all the extracurriculars he could fit in to pad his application to the Naval Academy. He knew it was the only way he could afford a university education with his parents' hospital bills.

In that time you were his sister's rock. Ten years old, going on fifty. You spent more time at his house than your own and he never questioned it. He never questioned the bruises that you claimed were from being clumsy despite the fact that he never saw you fall. He never questioned how you flinched at loud noises or waving arms, he would just laugh at how easy you were to startle. 

You were there when his father died and held his sister together as he tried to keep his mother from falling apart. 

You had been the one to talk his sister out of taking a baseball bat to her first boyfriend's car when he cheated. He was, however, pretty sure it was your idea to shred ten bubblegum air fresheners and stick them in the heat vents, though no one could prove anything. You were the sober one at all the parties, making sure Sami got home. He had been at the Naval Academy by that time but had never felt the need to worry too much about Sami, after all, she had you.

He was in flight school when his sister had called him in a rage on January 2nd of her senior year. “They kicked her out, Jake!” Sami had ranted. “Like she’s a piece of trash, they just threw her out the day she turned eighteen.”

“Woah,” he said placatingly. “Who kicked who out?”

“Pip!” Sami exclaimed. “Today is her eighteenth birthday and her parents kicked her out.” He could hear heavy breathing through the phone. “They said she was an adult and she wasn’t allowed in their house anymore! She hasn’t even graduated!”

“Mom took her in, right?” Jake couldn't help being concerned. He didn’t think of you as a sister but you had been a constant in his life and were family, even if he couldn’t explain how. 

“Obviously,” Jake smiles at Sami’s dramatic enunciation of the word. “But that's not the point! It’s Pip, and it's unfair.” 

“I get it,” Jake reassured, “but it might be for the best, her parents suck, I don’t think it was a good house to grow up in.” As he got older Jake began to recategorize the things you would do as a child. Sami didn’t respond and the conversation lapsed into silence.

“Well I have good news.” Jake changed the subject. “I’m going to be doing my advanced training at Kingsville.” Jake was excited to be living a half hour from his hometown for the first time since he left for the Naval Academy six years before.

“That's really great, Jake!” Sami exclaimed, “but we did give Pip your bedroom.”

Jake laughed, “No worries, I’ll be staying on the base, but I’ll visit, I’ll be there in two months.”

– – –

When he did finally manage to make it home everyone was sitting quietly on the couches with pinched brows and worry on their faces as he walked through the door. “What's going on?” he glanced around and saw Pip looking at Sami and shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“Oh for fuck sakes, Pip!” Sami declared to his mothers squawk of offense. “Pip just found out she has thyroid cancer and because her piece of shit parents kicked her out she doesn’t have any health insurance and can't pay for treatment.”

Jake looked over at your set jaw and mutinous expression. “Jesus Pip, what can we do?”

“You are going to marry her.” Sami stated it like it was an observation on the weather. 

“What!” Jake's jaw dropped, confused. “What's that going to solve?” 

“Your military health insurance, Nimrod!” Sami rolled her eyes like it was obvious. “If she is married to you she has access to your healthcare!”

“Sami, I told you, contract marriages are illegal,” you spoke up for the first time rubbing your temple. “I’ll figure something else out.”

“Nope, you are marrying Jake,” Sami counters. “You are not going to jail, and you are not going into medical debt before you have even graduated. I told you to come up with a plan to make the marriage seem real and you probably already have one to get away with it.”

Jake watched you reluctantly nod. “Good,” Sami continues, “You're over eighteen and Jake’s military so the 72 hour wait time can be waived.” She relays the specifics of the paperwork needed and Jake sighs rubbing his head, his mind spinning at how this day was going.

“Jake doesn’t want to marry me.” Your voice is soft and placating, directed toward his sister, your eyes shifting to his.

“Like HELL he gets an option,”

“Samantha!,” your voice is scolding.

“No, I'll do it.” Jake sighs. 

“Jake,” you sound so sad it physically hurts his chest. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Jake said, “I want to. You’re family Pip, you’ve always been there for us, it's the least I can do.” 

Jake groaned and sat down next to you on the couch. “Guess I gotta go buy an engagement ring.” He sees a ghost of a smile on your lips. 

“I don't need an engagement ring,” you respond, and Jake really looks at you for the first time. You have dark circles under your eyes and look wan. “You should save your money.”

“You might not need an engagement ring,” Jake's mother spoke up for the first time. “But you need some type of wedding rings if you are going to sell it.”

“Well let's go wedding ring shopping,” Sami stood up, pulling Jake to his feet. 

“Are you up for it?” Jake asked softly, his eyes searching your face. You shake your head sadly.

“I’ll make sure he buys something that won’t turn you green.” Sami declares dragging Jake out the door. “Plus we have the same finger size so it will fit.”

– – – 

When he returned from ring shopping with Sami you had a marriage plan neatly typed out on your old laptop. He sat alone with you in the living room planning out his fake marriage.

“OK, first I think we should have a shared bank account.” You are beside him, cord stretched across the room because the laptop couldn't hold a charge. “I have an excel spreadsheet all set up so I can keep track of how much money is mine so I won’t spend yours. We can get a prenup if you want, but that might look suspicious if we get investigated.” 

“Pip, you once paid me back a quarter when I bought you a gumball.” Jake sighs, “I don't think you are going to take my money in the divorce.”

“Oh,” you give an embarrassed chuckle and quickly move on. “Another thing that I thought would sell it was to have one or two pictures of us together on social media.” you pull out your phone and Jake can see the cracks in your screen. “There are a few group photos of us with your family, but one or two of just us would make it more believable.” You scroll through the pictures on your social media of you with the Seresins during Thanksgiving and Christmas. “The pictures can have intentionally vague captions so it won’t throw off your dating life.” You grin at him wryly. “Neither of us post many pictures of other people so that helps.” Jake nods in agreement.

“Finally we should have some kind of phone contact, texts can be read so if we just called each other every day or so it would look like we are in contact.” You are wringing your hands together. “You can just put the call on mute and go about your day but it will look like we are talking.”

Jake shakes his head and rubs his forehead. You are putting way more thought into this than he is and the idea of calling you just to mute you doesn’t feel right. “I could just talk to you when I call.” You look startled at the prospect. “Unless you don’t want to talk to me?” He says it as a joke but he is slightly hurt by the idea of you not wanting to talk to him. While he has never been as close to you as Sami is, he still knew you and talked to you quite often when he was home.

“I want to talk to you!” You answer in a rush, “I just don't want this to mess up your life.” Looking at you then he can see the deep heartbreak and stress in your eyes and he thinks about how you haven't even graduated and are facing adult problems. 

Jake pulls you into a one armed hug and, as with every other hug he has given you in the past, you are rigid for the first few seconds before relaxing against his side. “Don’t worry about me Pip, just promise to handle all the paperwork and give it to me with the ‘sign here’ stickers so I can’t mess it up.”

“Thank you Jake.” Your voice is sincere and you look up at his face. “I mean it, I can’t ever thank you enough.” He waves you off but you persist, “I’m serious, if you ever need a kidney, or to bury a body, or an alibi, I’m there for you.” He laughs at your declaration, happy to hear your old self coming through. 

– – –

“Hey Javy, What are you doing on Tuesday at 3PM?” Jake stands awkwardly in the doorway of Javy’s room on base.

“It is the one day we have ever gotten off early, so I was going to run personal errands.” Javy frowns at Jake in suspicion. “And yet, now I feel like that will not happen.”

Jake checks up and down the hallway before lowering his voice. “I need you to witness my wedding.”

“YOUR WHAT!?” Javy shouts out and Jake shushes him and quickly tells him about you and the situation he has found himself in. 

“How old is she?” Javy asks in confusion, “isn’t your sister still in highschool?”

“Yeah, Pip is too, but she is eighteen so it’s technically legal.” 

Javey lets out a low whistle, shaking his head in disappointment. “That’s some serious cradle robbing man.”

“It’s not going to be that type of marriage.” Jake sighs, “and the extra pay will help me pay off the hospital bills from my Dad’s death. It’s win-win.” 

Java nods. “Do I get to plan your Bachelor Party?” Jake lets out a reluctant chuckle. 

“Let's save that for my real wedding.” Jake says, defeated. “Can I count on you?”

Javy holds his hand out for Jake to shake. “Always, man.”

– – – 

The wedding had been a quiet affair at the local courthouse. Javy and Jake’s mother serve as witnesses, and Sami tags along. You had worn a simple white sundress that fell past your knees, hair down. He told you that you looked beautiful, because you did, and he figured every bride needs to hear that on her wedding day, even if it was a marriage of convenience. 

After they had gone back to his mothers house and filled out all of the paperwork that the Navy required to get you as one of his medical dependents. Honoring his request, you had put a little red ‘sign here’ sticky tabs everywhere he was required to sign. And just like that in the eyes of the Navy and the government he was married.

– – – 

“Well it’s been a year and the Doctors say I’m in remission.” Your voice is happy through the phone and Jake smiles. 

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Jake lies back on his bed as he does every day he is stateside. It has become a daily ritual when he gets off duty. Lie on his neatly made bed and call you. “Well there goes our marriage, at least it was successful!” He says it with a laugh but a hollow ache springs inside him when he realizes that your clean bill of health means a divorce. 

He knew the day that you no longer needed to be married to him would come but he couldn’t help being saddened at the prospect. He squashes his disappointment down feeling guilty. It was stupid, he knew why you married him. Hell, nothing about his life had changed other than his daily phone calls with you. And he refuses to admit to himself how much he looks forward to those phone calls.

“Yeah, it was a success,” you agree and he thinks he is imagining the regret in your voice. “The doctors say that it is unlikely to recur but if I make it four more years cancer free I’m basically good to go!”

“Well…” Jake hesitates before committing. “We might as well stay married,” he can hear a sharp inhale through the phone. “I mean unless you don’t want to, or are seeing someone,” he adds as an afterthought. “But it would be best to wait until you get the all clear, then we won't have to remarry if the worst should happen.”

You are quiet on the other side of the phone and he wonders if he has overstepped. Maybe you were ready for this charade to be over. “Yeah,” you agree softly and he feels his spirits rise, “that makes sense. Plus you can keep sending your housing allowance bonus to your Mom.”

“You know about that?” Jake is pretty sure he has never told you what he does with the extra money that comes with being married. 

“Jake, we share a bank account.” He lets out a huff of laughter at how unimpressed you sound. He is not a big spender so beyond a cursory glance he rarely paid much attention to his money. 

“Oh, I forgot, I’m married to a business major.” You laugh and he smiles at the sound. “So how was your day, other than the big news?” he asks, settling in for his daily conversation with you.

After hanging up he goes to get ready for his date. His marriage with you had actually worked out better than he ever expected. The daily phone calls provided him with the default person to talk about his day with. It also gave him the freedom to sleep around with whatever woman caught his fancy with no strings attached. All the benefits of a long term relationship without the guilt of cheating. It was the best of all worlds. 

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #topgun maverick #jake seresin

[scekrex]

Hello💕💕💕💕 me again I just really love your story's and I would like to be known has '💕💕'<3 another request 💕hurt/fluff 💕

💕Adopted child male reader x parent Adam, were reader died from his father and went to heaven but doesn't have a place to stay of course his like 2 and Sera does not know to do with him so she just give him to Adam and told him to just keep him for a while to find someone willing to take care of y/n.💕

💕While Adam first saw y/n he just take cared for the kid and kept on saying how the kid was soo annoying, after a few months he started to actually started to get attached with y/n but then Sera asked Adam for the y/n back because she found a orphanage that will like to take care of y/n and maybe find a real family but Adam quickly refused saying that he would like to keep y/n so Sera was alright.💕

💕So after a few 10 years y/n and Adam became inseparable! Going to their favorite bands and y/n knowing how to play the electric guitar and even the drums. This year y/n wants to go and see his dad killing those sinners but Adam isn't too sure on letting his son but he let him because he kept on begging him to come so he allowed it just this once and to try stay close to Lute ( Lute is kinda like a babysitter for Y/n ).💕

💕Y/n was rooting for his father while he was fighting with Lucifer ( more like Lucifer fighting with Adam) until when Adam fell on the floor while Lucifer was punching Adam, then Charlie said that Adam had enough before y/n could run to his father and tell him if they could go home now the little red demon girl stabbed his father, y/n quickly ran towards his father grabbing the girl out of his father, crying fat tears and keep on saying "please don't go, dad" ( or whatever you want)💕

You can write the ending I am too lazy 🙃

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Okay so I've never written child reader before so I hope it matches your expectations! xoxo/p

Born to Lose

pairing: dad!Adam & child!male!reader (platonic)

warnings: language, canon typical violence, major character death

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The woman in the pretty white dress with the beautiful looking wings handed you over to that man with golden wings and long horns attached to his head, he looked a little grumpy.

“Why me though?” the first man asked, clearly displeased with the situation that had been forced onto him. What was he supposed to do with a two year old? Sure, he did have children back in the garden but… that was ages ago. He also had Eve back then, to help him raise them. How he was alone with nothing but you in his arms.

Sera was serious about this. A situation like that rarely happened and usually there had always been angels willing to take the child in, but not this time. Not when you had arrived in heaven. Your hands clumsily reached up to one of Adam's horns, you wrapped your small palm around it and giggled happily. Adam sighed. “I wish there would be a better, more permanent solution, it would be the best for the both of you, but sadly there isn't. It's either you taking him in or him ending up homeless.” Sera's words hung in the air for a moment before Adam sighed again, “Okay yeah, I'm taking him in. But fucking hurry up to find a family for that little shithead.” “Language,” Sera warned the first man who simply rolled his eyes at her before he flipped her off and left the building.

So he had to take care of a motherfucking two year old now. Fucking great, thanks for absolutely fucking nothing, god.

-

You were loud, most children your age were. Well, in Adam's defense, he didn't sign up to adopt a two year old. So he was allowed to complain about you. You needed constant attention, always silently begging to be lifted up into his arms by making grabby hands at him and considering that it was the only way Adam was able to get you to shut the fuck up, he carried you around more than he liked to.

You were a clingy, loud, annoying, stinky little brat and yet you made him soften up. Because carrying you around often resulted in the two of you playing. Adam would lift you up in the air, careful not to drop you of course, while you pretend to be flying - which one day you would be. He also complained about your nightly wake up sessions, how annoying and exhausting it was for him to get up at least five times a night to feed you, change your diapers, or simply give you whatever else it was you were craving.

Yet he loved you dearly and wouldn't give you up for anything.

He had already completely forgotten about what Sera had promised him. That she would find a permanent solution for your problem. To him, this was the permanent solution and he was more than fine with it. So when Sera had ordered him into her office and he had stepped inside with you sleeping in his arms, he was quite surprised to see other angels there too. “Who the fuck is that?” Adam asked as he steadied your little head that was resting on his shoulder. “Those are the people willing to take Y/N in, Adam,” the seraphim explained calmly to the first man, who turned his body away from the strangers in order to protect you. His wings were spread, working as a shield. “No fucking way, he's not leaving me now. I took care of this little fucker for the past six months, he's not going to live with somebody else now.” He pressed your little body a bit closer, yet he remained careful, the brunette had no intention in waking you up. And you remained asleep.

Sera folded her hands as she turned towards the angels that were there to pick you up, “As you can see, I'm very sorry to announce that Y/N will stay with Adam. He seems quite attached to the child and the young boy is visibly feeling comfortable around him. Therefore we don't need your service any longer.” And as soon as Sera had finished her little apology, Adam left the building. There was no need to stick around longer and possibly wake you up.

-

The years passed and before Adam knew it your twelfth birthday was in the past. Ten years had it been since the first man had been given the task to watch you, raise you. And he did. Once you had learned how to walk and fly, there was nothing that could possibly stop you in any form or way. Talking was also a skill you learned quite quickly, eager to repeat whatever Adam said. At first the first man had thought of it as annoying but he had quickly started to like that little habit of yours. It disappeared as you grew older though.

With six Adam had started to teach you how to play the electric guitar, music had always been a big thing in his parenting methods. He was a guitarist and singer, in God's holy name, of course he would raise you with music. So it had only been a matter of time until he took you to your first ever concert.

The drummer of Adam's band had insisted on teaching you how to play them after you had curiously asked him how he managed to stay so focused on it while also looking ‘badass’.

So. You were twelve, that was fucking old if someone were to ask you. Old enough to join Adam on extermination day. That had been a thing ever since he had adopted you, probably even before. But your father had always told you that you were too young. This year however, you weren't going to back down so easily.

“C’mon dad, you've taught me how to fight, I can defend myself okay? I'm not some whiney, helpless bitch like the other angels up here,” you begged your father.

Ah yes, the language. Your vocabulary was definitely heavily inspired by Adam. A thing Sera disliked, but had stopped commenting on. She still hoped you'd grow into it and learn how to articulate yourself properly.

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance as he furrowed his brows, “Jesus, okay, okay, fuck, yeah fine.” He had given in. He had officially allowed you to fight by his side during the extermination. “But you're not leaving my side and if you do, only in company with Lute.” That was something you could agree on. Lute was the most badass bitch you've ever met after all.

-

So extermination day rolled around quicker than Adam had liked it too, if he were to make the decisions, he'd skip it simply because that would mean you'd be safe, instead of being surrounded by demon fuck-ups. But he had already agreed, there was no taking it back now.

-

Adam was slammed into the ground, neither you nor Lute were in sight as it happened. Lucifer only showed mercy once his daughter reminded him. Adam crawled out of the crater, blood dripping from his face, his body was in pure pain.

You saw him, you also saw the little demon girl that was sneaking up behind him. But things went down way too quick. The little girl pulled out a dagger and stabbed Adam with it. Your father fell face first onto the ground. Pain shot through your body, not physically but emotionally. “Dad,” you screamed as you flew over to his body, the little girl sat proudly on his back. You grabbed her by her throat, your hand was wrapped around it tightly, strategically cutting off her air supply as you ripped the dagger from her tiny hands and lifted it, the tip pointing to her eye. And then you stabbed her.

As you pulled the dagger out, her eye popped out of its socket and blood covered your hands. You stabbed her again, this time in her chest. And again. And again.

The body in your hands went limp and you threw her away carelessly. “Dad, stay with me,” you dropped to your knees next to his head, pulling him onto your lab, “C’mon dad I wanna go home.” Tears started to well up in your eyes as Adam opened his eyes to look at you. His usually bright eyes seemed so lifeless, so dead. Tears streamed down your reddened cheeks and hit his face. “Don’t go dad, don't fucking leave me,” the brunette simply shot you a weak smile of thankfulness. Thankfulness that he didn't have to die alone, that you were there.

it was Lute who came up behind you to rest her hand on your shoulder. “Y/N,” she spoke so softly yet her voice sounded hurt, “He’s gone,” she stated as Adam's eyes fell shut. “No,“ you screamed as you pulled away from her touch and pressed your father's dead body against your chest, “He’s not- he's Adam, he can't-”

In the background Charlie, surprised, asked, “Adam had a son?” Lucifer nodded, “Well, he isn't one of the kids I know, he must either be heaven born or adopted, but Adam sure is a father.” Something tore in Charlie at the sight.

“Dad- Adam,” you hiccuped as Lute grabbed Adam's halo. “Y/N, we have to go,” but you shook your head violently, “I’m not leaving without my fucking father, don't even try it.” The lieutenant sighed heavily before agreeing to take him with you, to take him back to heaven.

You got up from the ground, straightened your back and spread your wings proudly as you and Lute picked up Adam and carried him to the portal the leader of the exorcists had opened only a couple of hours ago.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[canyourfavesurvivecastledracula]

Can Harrow, from The Locked Tomb, survive Castle Dracula?

Moreover, would she be able to use necromancy on Dracula since he's not technically alive?

Ooh, ooh, ooh, I know this one!!! You guys told me the answer when I did the Gideon post!

@businesstiramisu says:

unfortunately your poll options are almost a perfect fit for *Harrow* (the other lesbian)

@inphront says:

harrow would survive without question, although paprika and being loved would be SERIOUS threats to her

@racefortheironthrone says:

Also, Harrow is: - a very powerful necromancer who would probably do very unpleasant things to Drac and co. with bones. - unlike Gideon, impervious to the Girlies because she's got a very specific Type and tends to be both ride-or-die/ride-and-die and very jealous. - About 5'0" and weighs approximately nothing, so would be extremely easy to transport, unless she cocoons herself in a giant bone again.

@turtletotem says:

btw harrow (the actual necromancer) would hand dracula his own skeleton and keep his fangs as accessories

@ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her says:

#harrow on the other hand could NOT survive the paprika and being loved

@theskyexists says:

Harrow would die from the paprike for sure

@milfcarmilla says:

#harrow dies at the paprika

@dustjacketmusings says:

#harrow cannot survive the paprika #the paprika would kill her outright

@harrows-number-one says:

#i think gideon could survive paprika #harrow absolutely could not though

@patricideapologist says:

#harrow would die from paprika before getting to the castle

@sydneysageivashkov says:

#and agree with prev that harrow wouldn’t make it to the castle because she'd be taken out by paprika on the way

@amgkatt says:

#gonna be real neither of them could survive the paprika or being loved #these girls grew up eating nothing but pickled leeks and nutrient paste #they never even had a warm beverage until canaan house ok #Gideon did NOT know how to approach a salad #Harrow thinks lemon water is too intense #she can't handle any flavor at all #and given the way they each responded to a single instance of being loved once in their lonely little lives???? #the love would kill them if the paprika didn't #ANYWAY otherwise I think they'd both do fine against dracula

What I have learned from all this is that Harrow Nonagesimus is a bone-stealing witch who could easily steal Dracula's bones in a direct confrontation were she so inclined, (though if she casts from hitpoints she might have trouble taking on four whole vampires?? But maybe she and the Girlies could reach an Understanding, especially if she was willing to share her Butch Zombie who is Into Being Eaten By Hot Vampires with them). The necromancy question is an interesting one but I don't know the technicities of how necromancy works in these books. I am tentatively willing to give it to her because Dracula is, indeed, a corpse. On the other hand the vampires in this novel explicitly breathe. Can she necromantize the other zombie lesbians or the Hot Vampires in her own novel? ANYWAY though it may be moot because due to her Powered By A Forsaken Child upbringing she would be killed instantly by an encounter with Paprika Hendl. And even if she's not determined to recipe blog her way across Europe like a worm solicitor off a string, it sounds like even Dracula's "excellent roast chicken" would take her out.

So Harrowhark Nonagesimus of the Locked Tomb can survive Dracula's castle but not his cooking

#the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #harrowhark nonagesimus #wizards and spellcasters

[rain-in-the-clouds]

To Your Desire.

Paul Atradies x Feyd Rautha Harkonnen

Princess Bride AU

Word count: 11,218

M/M pairing

Warnings: NSFW, graphic depictions of sexual acts.

Part One

Paul stared out past the balcony where he sat in the lavish castle where he currently resides. Though for him it was a gilded cage. The rolling forests that wash into meadows and sprawling grasslands. It was beautiful, bright lush greens and colors the young Atradies only seen in holo-logs. But the beauty that laid before him was a melencholes sight; something he’d grown to hate, a reminder of his unchanging fate.

He missed his homeworld of Calidan. The never ending ocean that graced every horizon, and the cold air that blew over every bit of land. But mostly he missed his old life, the one that died with his love years ago.

(flashback)

Paul grew up on Calidan, a world blessed with seas. He came from a grand house, his family line long and proud. At one time he cared about his familial history, took pride in his social standing. But in truth it was mostly a front, he loved his family, the caring and loving parents he was so grateful for; but he felt isolated then too. Only finding solace in books, fictions told by guardsmen, and the teasing torment of a servant.

The servant wasn’t from Calidan, discarded or sold, Paul never knew which, by the Harkonnens when Paul was just a child. The servant, at the time, was also a child. Not two years older than Paul. His name was Feyd, but Paul refused to call him by name.

Always finding him in the middle of his work. In the beginning he would stand back and away from him, spying on him from a distance. Feyd intrigued Paul from the start, he was stoic and serious and wholly different from everyone else around them. He had near black eyes, eyes that bore into your very soul. His skin a perfect alabaster that glowed in the light. He had no hair, and never grew any, but it never worked against him in his looks. Paul would find himself staring at Feyd whenever he was around, even if he didn't understand why.

The longer Feyd was there, and more evident that he wasn’t going anywhere; Paul became more brave. They were about 16 when Paul finally walked right up to Feyd.

At first nothing was said, Paul put on a mask of disinterest, as if he was simply inspecting the servant; despite the fact Feyd had been with them for years at that point.

Feyd paid no mind to the aristocratic boy before him. Though acutely aware of his presence and proximity. But Feyd also knew it was all for show. Though Paul thought he was sneaky about watching Feyd, he really wasn’t. But he also assumed Paul wouldn’t get the courage to actually face him. Despite keeping focus on his task, he was enjoying the moment nonetheless.

“Is there something you require, my young lord?” Feyd asked, formal as he was taught, but he didn’t meet Paul’s gaze; keeping his low, all the while continuing his work.

It threw Paul off, not planing for words to be exchanged, the mask began to crack. His cheeks began to flush a light pink, but he breathed through it while taking a step back. Shaking his head, “N-…” Paul began but stopped abruptly. Catching sight of the small, barely there smirk on Feyd’s lips. Quickly he caught on. Paul frowned, realizing too late his expression, Feyd eyeing him from the side; the smirk he wore got a little bigger. Paul made his face as natural as possible, doing his best to fane composure. “I’d like my horse prepped for an afternoon ride, servant.” Paul spoke smugly, trying to egg on Feyd. But something else happened instead.

Feyd stopped his work, stood straight up before Paul, towering over the Atradies some. It took Paul by surprise. What shocked him more was Feyd’s eyes meeting his own, a black well pulling him in; an endless abyss Paul wanted to fall in for an eternity. “To your desire.” Feyd bowed his head, but never braking eye contact, not until he had to leave to fulfill Paul’s request.

Paul was left speechless, standing in the garden alone, watching Feyd disappear around the house towards the stables. He knew his face was flushed, however he didn’t care, he wanted Feyd to look at him like that again. But with his life and what was expected of him, Paul found it hard to stay moments with Feyd. All of which were him ordering Feyd to do some task, at first something expected of him to request, but as it went on the tasks became small and meaningless. All Paul wanted was to be under Feyd’s gaze, to hear his voice speak only to him.

~~

Paul’s 20th birthday was creeping closer, he had already met with several possible suters, and he dreaded the affair every time. After each forced meeting, he’d find the right moment to slip away from his entourage, off to find Feyd, wherever he may be in the moment. The first few times Paul met him simply to be near him, an unspoken arrangement, seeking odd comfort from the others' presence. It helped Paul at first, but when the meetings grew in number, he began conversing, openly, with Feyd.

One day, after a long an argous meeting with a lady from an outer world, he didn’t care to remember. Dashing away from his auntourage and his father’s top advisor. Near running through the manor, uncaring of the trouble he’d be in if caught, but luckily he was alone everywhere he went. He didn’t actually start looking for Feyd until he’d long last his breath, about falling into a corridor lined with giant windows.

The windows looked out at the flourishing garden, deep dark greens, thick trees and bushes; just beyond was the deep blue ocean, seemingly stretching out forever. Paul leaned against the thick glass, practically sliding down the cool surface. It didn’t take him long to regain his breath, his many activities and training keeping him fit. He’d gotten quite far from where the meeting parlor was, reaching the far end of the manor in a matter of minutes. When he calmed he began to look for Feyd.

First he checked the garden, mid afternoon on a stormy day, he’d usually find the alabaster man outdoors. However, with everything happening at the manor, the romers of a move, the plannings to marry off Paul; it was chaotic. So Paul moved through the garden to the back of the manor until he was in front of an old, slightly rotted wooden door that led to the under workings of the manor.

There was no real floor down there, a mix of rounded pebbles and mud. However the servants over the years had refined the area, turning the once useless access and room into a bustling underbelly. Specifically to the kitchen. There was a large hearth, it was used to bake and cook in grouse amounts. The other half of the room would become like a second kitchen. Due to the hectic goings on, he’d hoped to find Feyd there. But he only found Milla, a sweet and caring lady, who’d worked and live with his family for as long as he could remember. She was standing in front of the hearth, switching out bred pots. Her daughter, Briar, an equally sweet, and flirtatious girl, was at a large table quickly rolling and pounding dough.

“Hello Paul.” Milla called, happy as ever. Paul smiled, despite his disappointment. “What are you doing?” She asked, her voice thin and full of maternal concern.

Paul shook his head. “Nothing really. Just had to get away from everything.” It was a half truth, knowing she probably wouldn't ask further. And he was right, she nodded simply and went back to work. However Briar waved him over. Paul glanced at Milla before moving towards her daughter. Paul stood on the opposite side of the table from Briar.

In a quiet voice she spoke, “Feyd’s down at the docks. Charged with watching the guests’ ships with the night guards.” Briar explained, her whispered voice filled with a wild tone of gossip. Paul smiled, not verbally responding, but nodding his head. With that he headed to the docks, just outside their estate.

~~~

As Briar said, Feyd was stationed at a ship, large and intimidating, something that didn’t need guarding. But it gave Feyd a moment of calm and relaxation. He enjoyed days like this, cold, gloomy, and wet. The ocean was a roaring monster beyond, dark and powerful. The crashing sounds of the waves were music to his ears. He was in the midst of doing routine checks on a crate of goods when Paul found him.

At first Fayed did as he always done and paid no mind to the young Atradies as he strode up. But he did notice the disheveled look about him. His once neatly done dark curly hair now out of order, the evidence of his hands being dragged through the locks. He was wearing one of his more regal attires. An Egyptian blue coat, lined with a silver threading, embroidered with a pattern like blades laid side by side. His pants were simple and black, matching his shoes, but all of it together made him shine. In Feyd’s eyes, he was brighter than his home world's black sun.

Paul saw what Feyd was doing before he was near him, he decided to pace about a bit around Feyd. Nervous energy needing to escape. Feyd wanted to ask, but he was never the one to speak first between them. Paul finally stopped a few minutes later, finding perch on an already checked crate. He was slumped and weary.

“Are we all something to be pawned or sold off?” Paul’s voice was quiet, but full of venom. Feyd didn’t respond immediately, uncertain if Paul was wanting to talk, or be heard. When Paul didn’t go on, Feyd assumed the former.

“From my perspective? Yes. Doesn’t matter the status.” Feyd spoke grimly, but matter-of-factly. His voice was a low gravel, almost like a rasp. He didn’t look at Paul as he spoke, some part of him worried about being caught, despite nothing happening. Paul was thankful to have Feyd to talk to, to confide in.

“Will it ever change?” He asked, whatever hope he had fading fast. The whole ritual of it all slowly began to crush his spirit, knowing at some point, he won't have a choice. “I don’t want any of this. I want to stay here.” His words were crushing, and the way he spoke tore Feyd apart. The young Atradies expression was more than sad, it was heartbreaking to behold.

Feyd wasn’t sure what to say, believing he didn’t have the wisdom to comfort the young nobel. But he knew what he would have wanted to hear. “Then don’t go. Stay.” Feyd kept his voice low, trying to be soothing and comforting, it worked in some way. But it was how he look at Paul, his black eyes made darker by the looming clouds, somehow high lifting his begging expression. His brow that is usually always furrowed and pulled down, was soft and lifted. His otherworldly alabaster skin appearing as a gray color during the stormy weather. He was beautiful in every way to Paul. His pleading gaze made Paul’s heart beat strong and heavy in his chest.

It took Paul’s breath away, not expecting such a thoughtful and emotion filled response from Feyd. Believing the Harkanon was only humoring his pestering company, only hoping he’d see the young noble as a companion. “Maybe one day I can change things.” Paul spoke, with the smallest amount of hope in his voice. His eyes half lidded, almost distracted by the sight of Feyd. If not hope, then some kind of longing.

That was their first real conversation, however short, Paul smiling softly at Feyd before quickly leaving, knowing he would be expected soon. But both knew neither wanted to parted, a silent promise formed to meet again sooner than later.

~~~

The next few weeks went on like that, after each meeting with potential brides he’d rush off to find Feyd. The conversations were mostly one sided if they happened at all. Both still unsure of how to move about their budding relationship; but when they did speak it always sparked something within Paul, a deeper want for a freedom he didn’t know he lacked. Feyd would lull any worry Paul presented him, but always in few words. It was then that Paul realized more about himself and his feelings the longer and more they talked. As well, he missed the words Feyd would only say to him, unaware what they meant and why it was so important to him.

Paul held onto these thoughts and feelings awhile longer, wanting to understand them better, but also out of a fear it would push Feyd away. After some weeks had past, and the seasons coming to the end, Paul was able to find respite away from the socialites in the cold winter in the manor. Ignoring the fast approach of his 18th birthday and all the hell that will bring.

It was the first of many frozen nights that bled into day. The beach frozen and snow covered, all of the land blanketed in pearly snow. Paul spent most of the morning in his room, lounging in front of a large window, simply enjoying the days beginning. It wouldn’t be till just before noon when Paul finally left his quarters to explore the manor he’d memorized when he was still a chilled, knowing all too well that his Father would be off all day with other dignitaries and his Mother would be off with the other Bene Geserit. A group of religious zealots he’d grown to hate, especially when he discovered it was their order that plotted his future. Whenever they had a meeting in the manor, or even to cart his mother away for some unknown rite; whatever the reason for their presence, he’d find every way to not be around. Once it was a losing choice, and in the end he decided pretending to court a possible bride was better and less nerve wracking.

But he didn’t have to worry about any of that today, he was free to do what he wanted. And he knew exactly what he wanted, or more who he wanted; but finding the elusive Harkonnen was a trial in itself.

At the same time, Paul wasn’t in any rush. Winters promised short days and long nights, something most everyone hated, he found refuge in. Everyone busing themselves ignoring the change in season, Paul was able to do as he pleased around the manor and on the grounds. He was becoming lost in thought, joyously planing the days to come, when he realized he’d made it to the main hall of the manor.

It’s a grand hall, ment for grand balls and large, usually royal, meetings. It was beautiful, dark blue stone, silver accents, bronze peaking through, making everything stand out even more. The magnitude of the hall and of his home, always had him curious how the servants cleaned it all. He believed it just couldn’t be done. And in some capacity he was right, like any ordinary home, it appeared to be perfectly clean, but truly wasn’t. Paul had these thoughts and more like it as he made his way through his home, quickly coming to the main kitchen, which, unlike the rest of the house, was alive, bright and warm.

Milla and the other kitchen staff were busy at work, Paul thought it best to not interrupt them; so he sneakalie grabbed a small rag, some cuts of bread, cheese and grapes; tying all in the rag before rushing out of the kitchen.

From there Paul went to the basement kitchen, Feyd was not there either. Through the cellar-like hall, out to the back garden.

It was a bright wash of snow, so bright Paul had to wait and allow his eyes to adjust. Holding his hand over his eyes, while they were practically squeezed shut. He stopped moving, only after almost falling on his face. Stumbling some, digging his boots into the thick snow and soaking them through. He didn’t mind though, the chill that was running up his body was easily ignored when he was being blinded.

When he finally thought his eyes had adjusted, he opened them slowly, his hand still shading him from the light; and for a moment he really couldn’t see anything. The stables were some distance away, and blurred by the bright white, but the more Paul focused, the more he could make out. However he, without thought, began to move forward, not expecting someone to rapidly come into view.

Paul walked smack dab into someone. At first he didn’t see who he’d run into, still partially blinded by the brightness, nearly falling backwards in the snow. But he was grabbed before he was even close to the ground. It shocked him, a thin breathy gasp escaping him. A sound he didn’t think he could make. What was a bigger shock was who he’d run into and who caught him.

Feyd was standing above him, an arm slinged around Paul’s waist, while his other hand was holding him by the arm. It was a sweet moment, but not a pretty one. If there was an onlooker, it would be a sight of one young man half doubled over the other, like they were frozen in the middle of the fall. But for Paul, it sent a feeling through him he’d never felt before, but something he would completely expect from the Harkonnen.

“Young Lord.” Feyd greeted, a smug smirk painted on his lips. He swiftly lifted Paul back into a standing position, letting him go and stepping away, all in one smooth motion. Paul barely had a second to process everything. But when his eyes finally took in Feyd, his breath was taken away.

In the blinding light of the snow, Feyd glowed. His eyes were more striking than ever, dark pools sucking him in again. If it wasn’t for his dark clothes, simple work pants, thick shirt and coat, he would be totally hidden in this weather. However the thought had Paul picturing Feyd without clothes, another thing he wasn’t expecting to happen that day. It made a furious blush spread over his face, but he played it off as the cold making his skin red. Whether Feyd believed it or not remains to be seen. When Paul continued to not speak, Feyd furrowed his brow at him in confusion.

“Is everything alright?” Feyd asked, genuine concern, but also very confused. He’d seen Paul flustered before, half the time he being the one to cause it, but this was something new to him as well. They’d never been that close before, Feyd had never touched Paul before, never even gotten close to it. But it just happened, and had left him in his own state of shock. But Paul, for whatever reason, always seemed to ground him in some unexplainable way.

Paul shook his head. “No-“ He shook his head again, “I-I mean yes. I’m fine.” Paul stuttered out, caught up in his flurry of emotions. Paul took a steadying breath, running a shivering hand through his hair, he held out the rag that was slowly getting soaked. “I was going to have lunch….” He trailed off, unsure of what else to say or how to explain that he was looking for Feyd. Feyd cocked a brow, narrowing his eyes at Paul.

Feyd made a show of looking around, “Out here?” He questioned, knowing by now that Paul enjoyed the banter, welcomed it. “Seems…Odd.” Feyd didn’t hide his sarcasm or enjoyment of this situation.

Paul smiled softly, mostly to himself fully ignoring his blush, as well as the burn he began to feel on his skin. “Sort of.” Paul sheepishly explained. “Why are you out here?” He asked then, realizing Feyd was the only servant outside.

Feyd gestured towards the stables, “Tending to the animals. I was about to head in myself.” Feyd then gestured towards the manor, leaving an unspoken question in the cold air. Paul nodded simply.

“Mind if I join?” He then asked, his smile growing, though still somewhat flustered, his blush was fading and confidence growing. Feyd smiled softly in return, gesturing for Paul to lead, he stayed a step behind him as they made their way into the cellar.

Both were well aware of the layout of the manor, and knew their way around, easily able to weave through the long halls. Paul didn’t directly ask, but gestured for Feyd to follow him after they entered through the kitchen, having been ignored by the other staff. They were on the second floor, almost to his room when they stopped. Standing in a large hall, staring out large windows. The cold outside seemed so far from where they stood, it made Paul reach out to touch the freezing glass. He pulled his hands back quickly, hissing at the hot burn of the cold.

Feyd leaned forward some, inspecting Paul’s hand, but he was alright, yet it made Feyd worry. His expression was soft, but his eyes were hard and piercing. When Paul caught sight of Feyd’s eyes, he let out the smallest of gasps. Having to blink fast and breath slow to get his composure back. It worked but now the two had been standing there silently for so long, he began to feel self conscious about what he wanted.

Yet Feyd didn’t seem unperturbed, if anything he was content and peaceful, a stark difference from Paul’s rigid feelings and jumbled thoughts. But whatever Paul wanted ,he would have to strike soon.

Feyd turned to the young man, a very small smile on his lips. “If that is everything, I should leave.” Feyd bowed slightly before Paul, before standing straight again, and turning on his heel.

To Paul it happened all so fast, Feyd had his back to Paul and was moving to descend the stairs, but Paul stopped him suddenly. It happened in a blur, but Paul had lurched forward, near violently, throwing himself towards Feyd. With a free hand he grabbed onto Feyd’s arm, pulling him back slightly.

“Wait.” Paul was breathing deeply, his grip on Feyd’s arm waxing and waning in pressure. Feyd met the young Atradies eyes, his own expression a mix of shocked confusion. But Paul’s eyes were soft and pleading; it sent an emotional stab into Feyd. A second after their eyes met Paul dropped his hand from Feyd and all too quickly took a step back from the Harkonnen. The look Paul wore made Feyd’s chest burn; his eyes were still soft, but there were quickly becoming glassy, his brows pulled together in a worrying scowl. Paul’s lips were parted, as if he was going to speak, but the words getting caught in his throat at the last second.

Feyd knitted his brows together at the young noble. “What’s wrong?” Feyd was serious, his voice low and gravely, the tone of concerne clear for any to hear. Feyd wanted to step forward and enclose Paul in a comforting embrace, but like always he stopped himself, the only evidence of his thoughts were the slight twitch in his hands and fingers. The need too great that even the smallest movement would expel the want. But in this moment it was the hardest it had ever been.

Paul shook his head earnestly, his hands balling around the knot of the rag, nearly white knuckling the small cloth. Feyd tilted his head, still not understanding what Paul wanted. Paul screwed his eyes shut, not able to look at Feyd, the fear of rejection so strong, it was all he could do to hold onto the little confidence he’d gained. “Eat with me.” His voice was small, almost inaudible, but their closeness allowed Feyd to hear him fairly clearly. Though it wasn’t a question, it was an invitation, however poorly executed. When Feyd didn’t immediately answer, Paul added, “In my room.” Some part of him hoped the promise of privacy would entice Feyd to join.

Feyd didn’t hide his pleasant surprise, his eyes going wide and mouth slightly agape. He blinked a few times to get the information to process in his mind. His usual quick wit was silenced by this. Feyd nodded first in the affirmative, his small smile having grown wide and full of what’s normally unseen happiness. Before leaving just the smallest amount closer to Paul, his eyes trained on Paul’s own, something passionate buried in the blackness. “To your desire.”

Paul tried and failed to hide the smile those words brought to his lips, but that and the pink blush still speared across his face. Paul nodded once, gesturing with his hand for Feyd to follow again. The Harkonnen followed, but instead of being a step behind, Feyd strode right next to Paul as the two made their way to the young Atradies’ room.

~

In Paul’s room, he’d set up the night before, a small floor table and sitting mats in front of the fireplace. He’d set it up as part of a sort of ritual he did for the first real night of winter; but now it would seem to match his current intentions. He’d had his main windows curtains drawn, allowing the afternoon light in, setting his room in a soft white glow.

When they entered, Feyd moved towards the center of the room while Paul closed his door, making sure no one would interrupt. Paul half ushered Feyd to the fireplace; starting to set wood in the fireplace, when Feyd stopped him.

“Let me do that.” Feyd’s hand ghosted over Paul’s back, but never truly touching him; it still sent shivers down Paul’s spine.

Paul handed the lot and prod to Feyd, making sure his fingers brushed across Feyd’s hand. Nodding, showing acceptance in the assistance the Harkonnen offered.

Feyd made quick work of getting a fire going, fairly large, enough to heat Paul’s room. Paul had sat at the floor table, long discarding his boots, in place for more comfortable house shoes. Paul realized while Feyd was starting the fire, that he’d done something similar and was now barefoot. It had a melancholy feeling building in Paul. Before Feyd was done, Paul had opened the balled up rag, and speared the small assortment of food out. The small display had a smile creeping back on Feyd’s lips.

Feyd sat across from Paul, the silence between them growing and becoming more tense. Feyd wasn’t sitting facing Paul, but the fire, passively watching it crack and burn. However he was very aware of Paul.

Hating the feeling that was trying to settle between them, Paul produced a dark, decently sized bottle of mead and two glasses. Pouring Feyd and himself a glass, while also placing food in front of both of them. Feyd faced Paul at the sight that was unfolding before him.

“Where did you get that?” Feyd asked, truly stunned, never expecting something so adolescent from Paul.

Paul smiled half smugly, holding the bottle out for Feyd to take. “I swiped it from the kitchen a few weeks ago after one of the meetings with a suter. Haven’t really drank much of it though.” Paul explained, a little sheepish. Feyd smiled back, big and charming.

“Surprised you didn’t do it sooner, with how much you don’t like the betrothal thing.” Feyd admitted, letting his own negative feelings slip into his words. The situation grated on both of them; each dealing with it in their own way together. Though they had yet to actually speak about the situation and their feelings, it was a shared silent agreement in some way.

“Didn’t have the chance, really.” Paul drank some from his glass, enjoying the cool sweet taste. Feyd let out a chuckle at that. The thought of Paul sneaking around the kitchen was very amusing.

The afternoon changed to night, the two happily enjoying their time together, but the feeling, or more knowledge, that the end was coming soon. The food was long gone, and the mead was about spent, it not being a full bottle to begin with. But neither were intoxicated, if anything just a pleasant warmth engulfing them. As time passed the twos conversations had come to a pleasant close, the silence they now sit in comfortable and calming.

It grew close to dinner time, Paul knowing he’d hear the bell ring at any moment, Feyd knew too, but different. He had to make his way down to the kitchen before Paul was at the dining room.

Feyd stood then, quietly and smoothly. “I should go before the bell.” He said, a bit solem. Paul nodded once, his expression matching the feeling of disappointment. Feyd made his way to the door, stopping to grab his shoes, when Paul stopped him again.

“I want you to come back after.” If not for the fact Paul had been wanting to ask all day, he wouldn’t recognize his own voice.

Feyd was again stunned, the sweet, small smile responding before he could. He wanted to do as Paul asked, but it seemed an impossible request. He didn’t have to say anything though, Paul understood and already had a solution.

With a light grip, Paul pulled on Feyd’s arm, gesturing towards an overly large painting, the only thing that did not match the youth Atradies room. It was of a grand castle overlooking a roaring ocean, all in bright colors. Feyd was puzzled but didn’t say anything.

“Later, when everyone’s asleep, you can come in this way.” Paul explained, a hand gliding over the textured canvas while the other ran along the ornately carved frame, feeling for something unseen. When Paul found what he was feeling for, he made a small sound of success, followed by the sound of a click and thunk. With a small push the painting swung outward, leading to a dark tall passageway.

Feyd was left speechless. His eyes darting around the painting to the concealed hallway, before landing finally on Paul standing next to him.

“I’ll explain later.” Paul said simply. He stepped through the threshold, pulling out a small orb-like device that floated above them, giving them light, but very dim. “Step in, and put your shoes on.” Paul waved a hand, almost frantically gesturing for the Harkonnen to follow.

Feyd quickly stepped through, sliding his shoes on in the process. Paul didn’t wait for Feyd to be ready, pushing the door closed until he heard a deep thunk of the latch catching. Paul stepped back in front, leading Feyd through the tight dark hidden hallway.

A bit always from Paul’s room, Paul pressed a finger to his lips, silently shushing both of them. He pointed to the wall to their left and mouthed, “Parent’s room.”

Feyd’s eyes went wide again, the sheer foolishness the two were partaking in was testing his mischievous nature. His eyes scanned the wall as if he could see through it, as if he could see the Duke and his wife readying for dinner. But what the two young men could see was light that seeped through the old wood, orange and dim, the only way Paul knew they were in there and to be as quiet as possible. Feyd nodded, though unnecessary, before they continued onward.

Paul led Feyd through the winding secret passage, down two sets of thin steep stairs, until they reached the ground floor. Feyd took note of the time it took to get from Paul’s room to the ground, it was far less time then the main way; somehow the construction allowed for it. It had him curious how many and how interconnected the secret passages were. But what surprised him the most was how trusting Paul was of him. In a way he wasn’t expecting, Feyd felt honored to have Paul’s trust.

At the ground floor they were met with three doors; one that was directly in front of them, one just next to it, but it sat diagonally from everything else and was smaller than the others. The third door was to their left, the two ‘odd’ doors looked as if they hadn’t been opened in years.

Paul grabbed the orb that floated just above them, turned it off and passed it to Feyd, “You’ll need that.” His voice just above a whisper, impossible for anyone but Feyd to hear. Feyd pocketed the orb, not questioning Paul’s advice, however, Feyd had a sharp memory, and the best vision out of anyone in the estate. But Paul cared, and that was more important than his own pride in his skills.

The door that Paul had obviously been using for a long time, was seemingly not fully latched shut, for Paul was able to gently pull it open, just enough to peek out. But not seconds after Paul hastfully shut the door and latched it closed, all to Feyd’s surprise.

Paul took a large step back, almost bumping into Feyd, but he’d shadowed Paul’s movements. Feyd looked down to Paul, silently asking what was wrong.

Paul paused for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen, but when nothing did, he turned to Feyd and again whispered, “Can’t go that way.” Despite the anxiety that was cereal on Paul’s expression, even in the dark, there was humor in Paul’s voice. The ever surprising young noble moved for the diagonal door, fumbling a moment, looking for the latch in the dark. Feyd smirked to himself as he pulled the orb out again and shorn the dim light down on them again. Paul stood straight, looking to Feyd, who still wore a sly smirk, giving his own smile in return to the Harkonnen; a silent thank you.

Quickly, Paul opened the odd door, it led to a short narrow staircase into another hallway. When through the threshold, Feyd moved a bit closer to Paul and whispered,

“Where did that lead?” His gravelly voice and hushed words had the hairs on the back of Paul’s neck stand on end. The young Atradies breath quickened slightly as Feyd’s words fanned over the back of his neck.

Paul swelled thickly, “One of the linen closets. Someone was in there.” He explained, his mouth feeling dry and hands damp. “This’ll take us to the library.” Paul explained as they continued on.

It wasn’t long before they were at what was a door, but looked like a dead end. There was no lock, knob or latch; Paul had to push, hard, on the heavy door till it began to swing open. As one would picture, the door was hidden by a bookcase, large and heavy, swinging outwards. But both Paul and Feyd slowed the door to a stop before any sound could be made. Paul showed Feyd how the door closed, not able to avoid the thunk of the door sealing again. But the library was empty, thankfully.

Paul about ran to the main doors, unsure they wouldn’t open until they were ready. “Tonight, go to the third linen closet on the ground floor, at the very back the wall slides open. That’ll take you back to my room.” Paul explained, a bit rushed and still in a hushed voice. He was grabbing the non locking door handles as if his life depended on it. Feyd looked at him with compassion, but concern, causing Paul to quirk a brow.

“Are you sure about this?” Feyd asked, his voice full of concern. But his eyes held something deep and loving. Paul felt like he was both floating, and being crushed while under the Harkonnen’s gaze.

Paul’s eyes softened, his lips pulling into a smile, a look of longing clear. “Yes. Yes I am.” He said finally and firmly. Not wavering from what he’s asked. Feyd went to speak but Paul stopped him. “Come here.” Paul then said, his voice hushed, sensuality dripping from the breathy way he spoke.

Feyd cocked a brow, glancing between them, they were already standing about a foot apart. It’s when his eyes met Paul’s that he understood. Feyd took the single step closer to Paul, now nearly standing chest to chest. Feyd did nothing else, just stood close.

Paul took a calming breath, his hands falling to his sides, and for a long moment he only stared at Feyd’s chest. When he raised his gaze, a hand followed, resting on the Harkonnen’s chest. Paul stared deeply into Feyd’s eyes, getting lost in his black pools. Slowly, Paul slid his head up Feyd’s chest, stopping at the crook of his shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the back of Feyd’s neck.

Feyd met him halfway, hesitantly wrapping an arm around Paul’s waist; when Paul showed no sign of pulling away, Feyd closed the gap. His hand coming to Paul’s cheek, tilting his head slightly, to finally connect their lips in a long awaited passionate kiss.

Paul’s eyes fluttered shut the instant their lips touched, he’d snaked his arms around Feyd’s neck, standing on the balls of his feet, everything to deepen the kiss.

Feyd pulled him as close as he could, their bodies flush, his hand ran up Paul’s back until his fingers were tangled in Paul’s dark curly hair. Their lips melded together perfectly, the kiss was slow but deep, each fully feeling the other; memorizing the moment as if it were their last.

They only broke the kiss to take deep heaving breaths. They kept their faces close together, their foreheads touching. A tender moment both waited so long for, and were displeased it had to end so soon. They stayed like that a moment longer, stretching time for as long as possible. Feyd placed several kisses around Paul’s face, his lips, cheeks, forehead. Trailing light kisses along his jaw. Paul relished in it, mesmerized by the simple shows of affection.

When finally they pulled away from each other, however they were still locked in an embrace. Paul looked into Feyd’s black eyes, now certain what he sees in them is the same emotions he feels.

“You’ll come tonight?” Paul asked, somewhat sheepish, despite the passionate kiss, Paul was still unsure of Feyd’s decision.

Feyd smiled at Paul, sweet and mischievous, his eyes soft and trained on Paul. He leaned forward and whispered against Paul’s lips, “To your desire.” He spoke in a deep voice, sending more sparks though Paul before planting one final kiss to the young noble’s lips.

“The painting will be unlocked. I’ll be waiting.” Paul proclaimed just before Feyd disappeared behind the library doors. The two having agreed to leave separately, Feyd first.

Not long after, the dinner bell began to ring. Paul intentionally took his time making his way to the dinning hall, though after the fact it seemed wholly unnecessary.

Dinner went by quickly, the conversation between Paul and his parents was enjoyable, but as normal as ever. Paul was holding in an overflowing well of anxious excitement. He felt like he was on the verge of imploding at any moment. But no such moment came. He stayed composed the rest of the evening. Though he also spent a long time in the library after dinner, fanning the want to read and study; when in reality he wanted to be sure the door was closed, and no one knew he’d moved through the secret passages. To the best of Paul’s knowledge, no one had used the passages in decades; he being the only one to use them, and only at night. When it was an appropriate time too, Paul made his way to his room. He stopped to bid his parents good night, a display he put on; ensuring the rest of the night would go on without interruption.

~

Paul felt restless as he waited up for Feyd. The second he got into his room, he locked the door, unlocked the hidden door and sat in a reading chair he kept by a window. But that didn’t last long.

Paul frantically, however needlessly, cleaned his room, all but forgetting that Feyd had already seen it earlier. In the process of cleaning he also remade his bed. Stripping the bed of all his sheets and blankets, anything he’d already slept in, and tossed it down the laundry shute. He replaced those with, what he thought, were his nicest bedding set. Dark red silks, and a thick silken black comforter, with matching pillowcases. Happy with his work, Paul tried again to simply sit and wait, but the longer he sat, the more disheveled he felt.

Attempting to be quick, Paul stripped his clothes off and jumped into the shower. He enjoyed the hot water that soothed his muscles, but he didn’t waste any time. Paul quickly dried his hair, not carrying that it was still damp. He threw on his undergarments and a simple shirt, but nothing else.

With no ideas left to help him pass the time, Paul started another fire. This time he set up the floor mats to be next to each other and the floor table in front. Paul’d replaced the bottle of mead with a new one, and snuck in a small arrangement of fruits. Similar to before, he speared the food out and poured two glasses. By then it was starting to get late into the night.

Paul wasn’t sure when, but at some point he’d fallen asleep in front of the fire. When he awoke, the flames were still burning and lighting the room; and Paul wasn’t alone. Paul woke up in Feyd’s arms, his back pressed against Feyd’s chest, a strong arm draped over Paul’s waist.

When Paul began to stir, Feyd propped himself up on his elbow, and slid his other arm back until his hand was resting on Paul’s hip. He waited before moving again, his eyes locked on Paul’s dreamy expression.

Paul blinked a few times, forcing the sleep away. After taking in everything, he rolled over until he and Feyd were chest to chest. The Harkonnen smiling down at the Atradies.

Paul had a thousand things he wanted to say, but instead he pulled Feyd into another kiss, showing all his emotions in one action. Wrapping his arms around the toned young man, nearly causing Feyd to fall onto him. But Feyd gladly returned the kiss, engulfing Paul in his embrace.

Feyd pulled back first, smiling down at Paul. “That’s one way to wake up.” He spoke with humor, a light laugh leaving him. It didn’t take much for Paul to join in.

“I’ve been so excited to see you again.” Paul couldn’t help but comment, “It felt like an eternity.” The young noble sighed while snuggling against Feyd.

“I know. I worked to keep my mind busy.” Feyd let out a deep laugh, a thought coming to mind. “When I found you asleep, I figured you’d worked yourself into a frenzy.” Paul couldn’t fight the blush that bloomed across his cheeks. Paul opened his mouth to speak, but Feyd stopped him by planting his lips against Paul’s. Taking the opportunity to explore Paul’s mouth with his tongue.

Paul was surprised, but quickly melted into the kiss. However he did not expect a deep moan, that Feyd gladly muffled with his passionate kiss. Feyd pawed at Paul, dragging his hand up and down Paul’s side, gripping his hip and squeezing his ass. Every little touch sent a burning fire through Paul, Feyd’s ministrations had Paul letting out small moans, all of which Feyd devoured.

Paul pulled away next, practically gasping for breath. His face was flushed, lips red and swollen, his chest heaved with each breath. “Bed.” He spoke between pants, lazily gesturing towards his bed.

Feyd gave Paul that mischievous smirk, “To your desire.” Feyd’s voice dripped with subduction, he spoke low, the gravel of his voice sent a chill down Paul’s spine. Feyd wasted no time, sitting up, one knee on the other ground, in a half lunge position. In one smooth motion, Feyd stopped Paul up bridal style and began towards the bed.

Paul couldn’t help the airy laugh that left him as Feyd carried him the short distance from the fireplace to his large bed. Large enough to easily fit the two of them. Feyd gingerly laid Paul down on his still freshly made bed, openly noting the red and black satin bedding.

“Are you trying to court me, Paul Atradies?” Feyd asked teasingly. Climbing into the large bed, half beside Paul and half hovering over him. That devious smile never leaving his lips.

Paul blushed furiously, his whole body going hot in an instant. Paul tried to put on his best sultry expression, his eyes half lidded and lips pouty. “Maybe.” He said first, fluttering his lashes at the young man above him. “Maybe I want Feyd Rauthra Harkonnen to bed me.” Paul made his voice low, trying to match Feyd’s sensuality. Despite Paul’s lack of confidence, it worked and more on Feyd.

The Harkonnen nearly pounced at Paul. Climbing on top of Paul, settling between Paul’s legs. In the process, Feyd had stripped his shirt off. Paul watched in aroused awe, his eyes dragging over Feyd’s toned body, taking in and committing every detail to memory. Absentmindedly reaching out and tracing the outline of his muscles. Lingering only for a moment before gliding to a different area. Feyd did not move, allowing Paul to do as he wished with him.

When Paul’s eyes found Feyd once more, he nearly shuttered. The look Feyd was giving him was that of a caged animal. Just as Paul was gawking at Feyd, so was the Harkonnen. A hunger in his black eyes Paul never knew was possible. Feyd slowly lowered himself until their foreheads were touching.

In a low voice and affectionate tone Feyd asked, “Are you sure about this?” His eyes were ablaze with passion, his words oozed concern, and his touch hot and full of long awaited contact. Paul openly shuttered, his skin becoming decorated with goosebumps, a thin gasp escaping him in the same instant.

Paul dragged his hands up Feyd’s chest, resting at his shoulders. In a breathy voice he spoke, “Feyd, I’ve waited and I’ve wanted. Yes. Please. I want this.” With each word breathed, Paul held Feyd a little tighter, ensuring he won’t go, that Paul won't lose him.

Not another word was spoken. Feyd connected their lips again, slow and sweet. The fire within him held back, wanting to take his time and prolong the night for as long as possible. Paul did not protest. If anything he dissolved into Feyd’s touch, in a fumbled, sloppy motion, Paul stripped his own shirt off, allowing full access of his body to the Harkonnen. Feyd swiped his tongue across Paul’s lip, asking for entrance.

Paul obliged, parting his lips, using the small moment of separation to gasp for breath before Feyd plunged into Paul’s mouth again. A grone, deep, like a growl, came from Feyd then. Paul moaned in response, his body responding on its own. It was becoming difficult for the two to ignore their growing arousal.

Paul had been hard from the moment they got to the bed, now it was almost painful. Feyd was becoming farl, he slipped his tongue from Paul’s mouth to nip and bite at the young noble’s lip. Paul reacted in kind, moaning, loudly, bucking his hips up into Feyd’s. The friction had both groaning and moaning; rutting against each other.

Paul broke the kiss, squeezing at Feyd’s shoulders. “Feyd.” Paul’s voice was quiet and horse, pleading with the Harkonnen.

The sound of his name coming from Paul’s lips sent him spinning. Feyd nipped and sucked at the skin of Paul’s jaw and neck; littering his flawless skin with love marks, all different shades of purple. Paul was gripping onto Feyd like he was the only thing keeping him from floating away as Feyd began to kiss and nip down Paul’s chest; while all Paul could do was buck up into Feyd, a litany of moans coming from the young Atradies.

Feyd was enjoying every reaction he was enlisting from Paul. The sight of Paul under him, writhing under his touch, it was all so intoxicating for the Harkonnen. Paul was starting to dig his nails into Feyd’s skin, unknowingly urging Feyd on. Feyd let out a deep guttural growl, grabbing Paul’s wrist and pinning them above the young noble’s head.

“You’re going to be the end of me Paul.” Feyd spoke between heaving breaths, his words coming out like a low growl against Paul’s skin. In his wake, Feyd left a trail of small bite marks down Paul’s chest, stopping at his hips, just above his underwear. Feyd met Paul’s eyes, staring deeply into them, wordlessly asking for permission.

Paul’s lips quivered, his eyes peering back at Feyd. In a move Feyd wasn’t expecting; Paul slipped his wrists from Feyd’s grasp, hooked his hands under Feyd’s arms and in the blink of an eye the young Atradies had flipped them over. Now Paul was, more or less, straddling Feyd.

Feyd looked up at Paul in awe, his hands sliding up and down Paul’s thighs, finding their perch on Paul’s hips; holding him in place. Feyd ran his gaze over Paul’s body, following the rise and fall of his chest, seeing his muscles twitch and clench, every little reaction, Feyd saw them.

Paul sheepishly smiled down to Feyd, his eyes were still half lidded, his parted lips turned up in a coy smile. Paul leaned down and placed his lips to Feyd’s. A gentle and soft kiss, starkly different from all before. It was a declaration, a promise. Paul pulled back just enough to smile at Feyd, before he began kissing down the Harkonnen’s neck. Leaving small marks in his wake, Feyd’s neck and jaw were quickly peppered in purple love bites. When Paul found the small spot at the crook of Feyd’s neck that had the Harkonnen a growling, bucking mess. Paul couldn’t help but smile, proud of his work.

Paul sat up just enough, trying to inch his way lower, however, Feyd had a different idea. Similar to Paul, Feyd moved fast, his hands gripping Paul’s hips, Paul reacted without thought, his legs squeezing around Feyd’s hips. In a quick motion, Feyd rolled the two of them over so he was back on top. Paul loosened his hold around Feyd just enough, but never actually dropping his legs.

“Feyd.” Paul breathed his name out in a breathy gasp. He’d begun grinding his ass against Feyd, begging for any kind of release. Feyd’s grip on Paul’s hips tightened, enough that he will have bruises there for the next coming days.

Feyd met Paul’s eyes, the hunger in their gazes was all consuming. The Harkonnen nodded once, his hands slipped from Paul’s hips, down his legs, unhooking them from Feyd’s own hips. Paul pouted at the lack of contact, his expression had Feyd smirking down at him, the young Atradies turned his gaze away, a flush of embarrassment washing over him then. Feyd leaned close to Paul’s ear,

”I’ll go slow.” Feyd’s lips ghosted over Paul’s already sensitive skin. The shutter that came from Paul had their bodies pressing together; Feyd rejoiced with every reaction he was illiceting.

Paul had snaked his arms under Feyd’s, wrapping embracing Feyd. He pressed his face into the crook of Feyd’s neck, inhaling deeply. He nodded curtly, rubbing his face against Feyd.

Feyd brought his hand up to Paul’s head, combing his fingers through Paul’s curls, a gentle and affectionate gesture. Paul leaned into his touch, following the movements of Feyd’s hand. Feyd guided Paul’s head to rest against the pillows, Feyd was being as gentle as he could possibly be; treating Paul as if he was the rarest gemstone in the whole of the universe.

Feyd rose slowly, propping himself up by his knees, his feather light touch traced Paul’s hands that rested on his shoulders, also guiding them down to the bed; Paul’s hands now resting beside his head. The Atradies looked a picture of seductive radiance below Feyd.

Feyd softly slipped his hands down Paul’s chest, his skin prickling behind Feyd’s long fingers. Paul’s breath quickened the closer Feyd got to Paul’s undergarments. Feyd moved past them however, sweeping over Paul’s legs and unhooking them from his hips. He was moving torturously slow, enjoying all the time they had; however, even his own patience was starting to wane.

Paul was gripping the satin sheets below, his body aching and clenching, all but screaming out for Feyd. Who had moved on to finally stripping Paul, and himself, of their undergarments.

The shock of cool air against hot skin had both letting lose a round of grones. Feyd dipped back down, just below Paul’s sternum, giving light kisses down his stomach, again stopping at his hips. Feyd nipped at Paul’s soft skin, leaving a deep purple mark on the small area between Paul’s hip and groin. Paul was a moaning mess the whole time.

“Please Feyd.” He begged, having to hold himself back from bucking up. But it also helped that Feyd was holding Paul down by the hips.

Feyd chuckled, hearty and bright. “To your desire.” Feyd declared boldly, his eyes alight with something joyous, and ravenous.

Feyd dropped his head again, starting at Paul’s inner thigh, leaving feather light kisses and spark-filled bites, leading up to Paul’s hard, throbbing member. Paul had his gaze locked on Feyd, anticipation over taking him. Feyd gave a few tentative swipes of his tongue up Paul’s erect member. The simple action caused Paul to roar out a littny of moans; sounding almost like music, created by love and eroticism. Feyd held back a growl, the sounds urging him on. Before Paul could quiet, Feyd popped Paul’s member into his mouth.

Circling his tongue around the tip before taking Paul fully into his mouth. Feyd slowly retracted before sucking him back in. Paul could barely keep himself quiet, having to, almost painfully, clap a hand over his mouth to silent his near screams and moans.

Never before had Paul felt such pleasure, never been touched in such a way, never felt such affection. He was over the moon and beyond. But Feyd was still devious, hastfully ending his pleasuring ministrations as quickly as he began them. Paul whined out, loudly, despite his hand muffaling his uncontrolled sounds.

Feyd met Paul’s wanting gaze, propping himself back up, “Oh my Lord, how common of you.” Feyd laughed heartily, “To pout so openly.” Feyd crawled up to Paul, stopping just at his neck. Again kissing and nipping at the skin of his collarbone. He continued up until his lips were connected to Paul’s. However, when he pulled back and saw the tears that pricked at Paul’s eyes, he was instantly sent into a frenzy. ”Paul- I-“ Feyd kissed the tears away, swiping his thumbs down Paul’s reddened cheeks. “I’m sorry.” It came out a whisper, words seldom said.

Paul shook his head, though still between Feyd’s hands, his eyes were still glassy and lips swollen. “No, Feyd.-” Paul stuttered, his voice horse. He pushed up as much as he could, giving Feyd the softest kiss. “I’m okay. I am.” Paul nodded then, leaning against Feyd’s gentle touch. Paul’s eyes were full of earnest understanding, the smile he gave to Feyd one of sweet longing.

Feyd brought Paul into another kiss, this time deeper, that burning passion rising again. Feyd nodded too, “Okay.” His voice so quiet, it vanished with the light moving air.

Feyd held himself up on one hand, pausing a moment to think about how he wanted to proceed. His eyes dancing over Paul’s flush and sweat covered body. So focused on his thoughts, he didn’t notice Paul’s expression turning into one of puzzlement. However the Atradies figured out quickly what was taking up Feyd’s thoughts.

With his legs still on either side of Feyd, Paul leveraged himself up, squirming some, trying to reach for his nightstand drawer. However, it was a near fruitless effort, as he and Feyd were in the middle of his large bed. Feyd had snapped out of his thoughts the moment Paul started to move, but he was enjoying the sight of Paul half struggling. Though he easily saw what Paul was reaching for.

Feyd followed Paul’s attention, quickly leaning over to the nightstand and rooting through the small drawer. With little effort he found what Paul was trying to get. The Harkonnen’s evident success brought a new wave of embarrassment washing over Paul. Feyd didn’t have to guess what it was; a small, half full, bottle.

Paul hid his eyes, not truly able to hide any other part of himself, downcasting his gaze, all but closing them entirely. Paul made himself small under Feyd, his chest and shoulders curled in some, his legs holding on a little tighter. Doing all this, feeling all this, all while Feyd was inspecting the bottle, plotting his next set of actions; when he finally noticed Paul.

Feyd leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to Paul’s cheek, his fingers gliding down Paul’s blushed cheek. “Are you ready?” He asked in a low voice, sweet and caring. With that same hand, he tilted Paul’s head up, forcing their gazes to connect. In the young nobles eyes were a flurry of emotions; excitement, joy, worry. So many feelings happening at once, it sucked the air out of both of them. Feyd brushed his lips against Paul’s, with his eyes open and looking deeply into Paul’s. “I love you, Paul.” Feyd’s voice was so quiet, the sound of their thundering heartbeats nearly overshowded it. But Paul heard clearly.

Paul’s eyes went wide, he knew his own feelings, and knew for how long he’d been harboring them, but he never thought, only hoped, that Feyd would return them. “I love you, Feyd.” Paul spoke louder, a declaration. Wrapping his arms around Feyd’s neck and pulling him down on top of himself in an embrace. A fit of laughter following after.

They connect again in a kiss, deep and passionate, their tongues locked in an erotic dance, while their hands explore each other's bodies. Feyd snaked his hand between them, slipping it around Paul’s member and stroking him heartily. Paul fell into another round of moans, each ripping from his throat; whereas Feyd was grinding himself against Paul’s thigh. Both yearning for release.

Feyd never stopped plumbing at Paul, but also never allowing him release, moving lingered, almost tourtorsly so. With his free hand, Feyd popped the bottle and slicked up his fingers with the lubricant; slowly and carefully working his fingers inside of Paul. At this point, Paul was more than a mess, moans slipped from him like a beautiful opera; Feyd’s ministrations had him a sweaty puddle.

Little by little. Feyd slipped three fingers into Paul, pumping in and out of him while also continuously stroking his erection. Feyd intentionally starving himself of touch, enjoying the moment and sight before him. His own erection painfully throbbing.

Paul gripped onto Feyd’s strong, flexed arms, “Feyd, I- p-please.” Paul could barely form words, let alone able to convey his wants. His eyes again glassy and half open, his lips now dry and chapped, but still puffy. The young noble looked the picture of perfection to Feyd.

Feyd nodded simply, gingerly removing his fingers, earning the deepest groan from Paul thus far. Feyd brought Paul close for a kiss, the softest, most gentle he’d offered the entire night; it took Paul by surprise.

Feyd adjusted his positions, scooting just a bit back to allow for himself to better align with Paul’s entrance.

Feyd had himself propped up on one elbow, staying close to Paul, while he began to slowly press the tip of his member into Paul. Feyd was met with a shutter from Paul. The noble’s hands gripping tightly at Feyd’s shoulders, leaving deep crescent shaped indents in his pale skin. Feyd tried to stifle a growl, but every sensation had him near roaring. In his excitement, Feyd pushed a bit more of himself inside Paul.

Paul clenched, hard, around Feyd; earning another animalistic sound from the Harkonnen.

“Paul.” Feyd’s voice was strained and low, the gravel that’s ever present exacerbated. It riled Paul up in a way he would never expect. “Paul- I-” Feyd spoke in huffs, having to fight every urge to not hammer into Paul.

Paul took steadying breaths, trying to relax his body, to some degree it worked. Paul felt as if his skin was on fire, his body igniting with a passion he could only find in Feyd. Paul couldn’t really speak, his voice so strained, so he vigorously nodded his head, kissing Feyd with the same amount of vigor. Through action, Paul conveyed his wants, and Feyd obliged.

Feyd broke the kiss to lock eyes with Paul, watching, almost dutifully, as he fully sheathed himself inside Paul. The noble’s mouth fell open, and eyes rolling back, his head thrusted into the pillow; a silent moan leaving Paul’s body any way it could.

Feyd began slow, pulling out some, before, just as slowly thrusting back in. Their mouths connected without them thinking about it. Though starting slowly, soon they were moving at a bruising pace. Feyd had fast repositioned himself, up on his knees, his hands gripped at Paul’s hips. Paul had his head buried into the bed, his hands balled into painful fists in the sheets.

Paul shifted his legs to drape over Feyd’s shoulders, while his own head and shoulders buried deeper into the bed. Feyd used the new angle and leverage to pound into Paul that much harder.

Feyd’s speed picked up after that. With his teeth gritted, he began to thrust into Paul harder. The sounds of skin and muscle clapping together filled the room, Paul’s moans having gone horse and broken.

Feyd’s thrusts and rhythm were quickly becoming erratic, his grip on Paul becoming harder. “P-Paul.” Feyd croaked out, his own voice starting to go. “I’m-” Feyd tried to give warning, though needless; Paul knew, his whole body ready and wanting. Despite his own erection going without attention, he was close as well.

“Feyd- I.” Paul tried, it hurt to speak, the angle he was at doing nothing to help.

Hearing Paul’s cracked voice breath out his name was Feyd’s undoing. He dug his nails into Paul’s skin, colliding their hips together; though Feyd was on shaky knees and quickly becoming fumbled and erratic. Feyd slammed into Paul, hard, a few times, releasing into Paul.

The new sensation that ran through Paul had him, almost painfully, arching his back, pushing against Feyd; all while shooting his load onto his own stomach, a shrill moan escaping him in that same instant. It was beyond euphoric.

Everything stilled then, as if frozen in time. The two felt like they were flying, adrift in the stars. When the crash happened, it was slow. Feyd pulled out of Paul before collapsing beside him, however, their legs were still tangled together.

The moment Feyd let go of Paul, he fell to the bed limp. The two a mess of sweat, pants and tangled limbs. They lay together, a bit sticky, holding onto one another.

Paul nuzzled into Feyd, his face pressed against the other s chest. Feyd held the Atradies close.

“You okay?” Feyd asked, combing his fingers through Paul’s curls. His other hand traced patterns on Paul’s arm.

Paul nodded, his face rubbing against Feyd’s pale skin. “I’m okay. Better even.” Paul answered, meeting Feyd’s gaze. Their eyes were filled with a deep love and passion. They shared a short sweet kiss before a big yawn left Paul.

“It’s late. You should sleep.” Feyd declared, going to remove himself from the bed, but was hastfully stopped by Paul. Grabbing his arm and pulling him back down.

“Don’t leave.” It came out as begging, but Paul was begging.

Feyd smiled, a small nod given, “Okay.”

Feyd pulled the comforter over the two of them, the lights going dim as they settled in. Though it was late, they still had a long night together.

~

Many nights were spent like this between the two. For three years they were able to be together, their time spent was blissful. A love as grand as theirs had not been seen in the universe in a millennia. But like all great happiness and love, comes great sorrow and hatred.

Paul and Feyd were able to keep the idea of regal marriage at bay, Paul switching his efforts into ascending Dukedom through other means. The plan they’d spent months on was simple; Feyd leaves Calidan to claim his right as Baron, and the two would marry. Forever changing the course of history; but things didn’t go to plan.

During the begging of their relationship, both knew the secret of them would not last without help. Paul turned to one of his closest friends; Duncan. Duncan was the one to help them in tight spots, see to them having some privacy, all around being the support system the two needed.

Before Paul’s 23rd birthday the two decided it was time for Feyd to leave for Gedi Prime.

The night before Feyd would leave, “How will I know?” Paul asked, worried, near frantic.

Feyd brought Paul into a deep kiss, holding him close. “You’ll know. I’ll be on your doorstep.” Feyd wore a smile, but his gaze was soft, something concerning in them.

“I’ll be waiting.” Paul spoke in a hushed voice, a few tears slipping from his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.” Paul laid his head against Feyd’s chest, listening to his heart beat.

Feyd hummed, nodding in agreement. “I’m going to miss you.” Feyd whispered to Paul, kissing his cheek in the process. Paul held him tighter. Feyd brought his hand to Paul’s chin and tilted his head up to meet Feyd’s gaze. “No matter how far apart we are, we will always have the stars.”

Paul nodded, more tears falling, the two melting into each other's arms, committing everything to memory, as it would be the last they would share for a long time.

The next day, Duncan was to take him during a diplomatic mission to Kaitan. However, before they could leave for Gedi Prime, they were attacked by the Harkonnens.

When Duncan arrived back at Calidan with the news, it crushed Paul. For months he would not eat and barely slept. All alone, even then only Duncan knew and only he was able to comfort Paul, what little he could.

Three more years passed. Paul becoming a husk of himself, doing mundane things to keep his mind at ease, though most days a fruitless effort. Until one day, when his mother came storming into his room. Proudly announcing Paul’s betrothal. Something that about made him instantly cry, it took everything in him to stay composed in front of his mother.

Before he knew it, he was shipped off to Kaitan. Fast living in the Emperor’s palace, betrothed to the princess.

#fanfiction #fanfic #dune #dune part 2 #paul atreides x feyd rautha #paul atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #princess bride #romance #fantasy #alternate universe #smut #feyd rautha smut #Paul Atredies smut

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He's Just My Brother, Your Grace! - By Yeoroeun (8/10)

Soap opera style drama. The yandere often isn't even present, even though he is the main love interest. Revenge and intrigue are the main focal points of this story. Our protagonist is the daughter of a fallen mage family, who lives for her revenge. She has the kill the mastermind behind her parents deaths, before she dies. Again.

Astel and Cassian are two tragic main characters. A brother and a sister. They die at the end of their story, unable to unmask the mastermind that framed their parents. They were framed for treason, so the twins can't use their family name to get support.

Cassian becomes a famous commoner knight after years of brutal training, but he still dies. Astel experiences an even more pathetic death, but she wakes up again.

She wakes up motivated. Her brother is a good person. She wants to save him. She decides to put her talent to use, while hiding her identity. Using magic would be a terrible idea, because it's rare. She'd get exposed.

She uses what she knows about the "story" to unmask the mastermind.

Their parents casted a very powerful, ancient spell before they were executed for teason. The spell "erased" Astel and Anais. Nobody can remember their faces. It's an absurdly powerful spell. Astel decides to hide in plain sight this time. She trains as a medic, and she becomes a potions expert.

She must infiltrate the shapeshifter castle. The mastermind is hiding in the north, causing trouble with his pawns. Shapeshifters are powerful, and they used to be slaves. They hate humans and most humans don't like them much. The mastermind is currently causing discord in the shapeshifter lands.

Astel waits for YEARS. She knows Duke Anais, the shapeshifter in charge, will be grievously injured on a certain day. She arrives before his medics do, and she saves him without calling for extra help on purpose.

The Duke is cold, but in her past life he gave the medic who helped him one wish.

Things get weird.

Astel feels chest pain around the Duke. He kind of acts like he knows her, but when she says she doesn't recognize him...he hides. He's shady. He doesn't explain why he was being so overly familiar.

Astel and the Duke are "Temporary" Mates. A spell is binding them together. It's not a "real" mating bond. Someone put it on her. It's a serious thing. The Duke will die if she dies. The Duke brings her to his castle, and they start living together because mated couples must stay close.

I'm pretty sure the Duke placed the spell on her when she was a child. Duke Anais used to be an orphan. The shapeshifters have alot of power now, but they were second class citizens for ages. A blond girl once reached out to Anais, with kindness. He probably attempted to forcefully bond with her, with his magic, even though humans and shapeshifters...don't do that? It's not a natural thing that happens.

Also the death thing and the pain.

Astel gets horrible chest pain if she doesn't touch the Duke at least once every couple of days.

It's hard to deny the yandere. Anais is very quiet and jealous. That doesn't mean he's LESS crazy. He's just quiet about it.

He's a really tough guy. He got the Duke title by fighting for it. He did not inherit it. He is the first of his line. Daddy didn't give him a silver spoon etc. It makes him a little more interesting.

He's waiting for Astel to remember him, but she's a little too worried about dying to care. The mastermind is looking for her and her beloved brother.

She finds the first rat. Sam, a healer who works for the shapeshifter community. The shapeshifters are hostile to him, but the territory is very low on medical staff. That's how he got in.

Sam has been slowly poisoning the head of the Jaguar family. An old man, who is quickly losing hope. Sam told him he was cursed, but he never was. That was a trap to isolate the poor old man.

Astel saves him. I won't spoil her plan, because it's actually good.

Anais starts to get crazy jealous. He assumes Astel is romantically interested in Sam. He sort of stalks Astel, but he tells his staff to do it for him because he's busy...which is pretty funny.

Cassian heads to shapeshifter country to help fight an onslaught of demons. He wants to check on his sister too so bonus. Nobody knows the siblings are siblings because of the curse. Astel and Cassian have been pretending to be "friends" for years now. Cassian is trying to get to the mastermind the old fashioned way, with his sword. He doesn’t know Astel is trying to sniff out the killer with clues. It's very complicated.

Anais assumes Cassian is the man she loves, and it makes perfect sense.

WE know he's her brother, but the misunderstanding is understandable.

By the way Cassian is a "known womanizer", so Anais wants to save his beloved from the scoundrel.

Cassian is playing the part of womanizer to gain respect. He's handsome, but he's a broke commoner right now. He pretends to only have shallow relationships, to keep his real friends and sister safe from the mastermind. The mastermind is intent on killing them and everybody they love too by the way.

It gets funnier. The Jaguar Family LOOOVVEES Astel now. They think she's a total angel and a genius, because she swiftly revealed the killer in their midst. She saved a very beloved Jaguar grandpa too. They send her lavish gifts all the time...and that also makes Anais jealous.

He goes completely over the edge and he tells the other animal families to back off.

Astel is his.

She just hasn't accepted that yet.

.

It's good but slow. The Duke is kind of...lurking in the background??? Some of the misunderstandings are funny but the painful mating bond is not. Even if it does actually wear off after a year he's not letting her go.

He,most likely, slapped the mating bond on her so he would be able to find her.

Which is just nuts. Can you imagine? You wake up with horrible chest pain and some guy is standing over you like...hi I did this to you on purpose, please marry me...

.....

...no wonder the Duke is hiding the truth.

#He's Just My Brother #Your Grace! #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome #otome isekai

[jounosparticles]

this feels really odd to ask but but what do you think the hunting dogs' thoughts are about death? specifically if they die and how? cause I feel like all of them share a variation of "I will go down guns blazing and with glory"

fukuchi definitely feels it and I feel like jouno as well. they've both had rough and violent lives so I feel like they've always thought death was just right around the corner.

I don't know about the rest of them though. teruko I feel shares the thought but not as intense as the other two, and I dont know about tecchou and tachihara.

anyway. it's a neat thought to me :3

ohhh i’ve been thinking of the best way to answer this for DAYS. this analysis will be long so ill put it under a readmore.

the hunting dogs and death - analysis

overall, it is shown that they can die. i assume due to their abilities and bodily enhancements that they do not die of injuries very easily. it makes me wonder how disease hits them? partially mechanical bodies may not respond to illness as well as natural bodies would? or maybe the opposite and they can heal more so internally? anyways here's my thoughts on how each hunting dog perceives dying!!

fukuchi

i see fukuchi as fairly self-preserving up until the end. he can't die in battle because he needs to make sure the decay of angels plot carries out.

remember that he was warned of this at nine years old. he had to spend his life preparing for this. he likely grew very wary of living recklessly and became great at fighting very fast and young; i assume that's why he went through dojos to fight as a child.

under no circumstances could he die until the world was safe.

i imagine he put on a selfless face and was willing to take serious harm in order to protect the peace, but i highly doubt he was ever willing to sacrifice his life until his plan worked out.

here we see his thought process and how things need to fall into place. his participation was essential because in no other situation would fukuzawa be the one able to get access to the one order. if fukuchi had died beforehand, the war would play out as the amenogozen warning claimed.

he had to leave the world to fukuzawa, the man he could trust most before facing his own demise.

of course, at this point in the series he has been killed since that was the final goal of his plan. a noble death for a fantastic hero.

jouno

im actually a little conflicted on his perception of death. i believe jouno is willing to sacrifice his life if absolutely necessary but is probably more self-preserving than the others. i believe he likely uses his confident and slightly arrogant attitude to hide this self-preserving mindset. someone who comes off as intimidating or nonchalant during battle is more likely to throw off the enemy whereas appearing nervous or angry will make them seem vulnerable. i believe jouno also sees himself as very strategic and able to get out of situations easily if needed. he's a quick thinker from what we've seen thus far.

lets look at when he confronted fukuchi.

he starts off very confidently accepting the offer. we know this is a facade but him immediately trying to throw fukuchi off guard seems so show he's pretty confident in his next move.

but when this doesn't work, he immediately tries to flee. this is fairly unique for a fight in bsd, many characters will often fight until they either get what they wish or they're too injured to move. despite jouno having an ability that could dodge fukuchi's, he still chose to try and escape instead of continuing to fight. this is a very normal human reaction to have but not one you see as often.

and at a disturbance, he begins to panic and needs to ground himself by reassuring himself instead of fighting back. he's not willing to put his life on the line to stop a global terrorism and his own escape is seen as a victory, which i see as him being more self-preserving. this all took place before the sword was set on fire, so it wasn't as if he had that threat to escape yet.

however, there's a chance he just didn't know how to fight the amenogozen; but his ability was definitely one of the best to fight against fukuchi with.

still, he's smart and made sure to plan adequately in case he was injured in the battle against fukuchi. he wants to keep himself safe, but he's still smart enough to take precaution.

i think jouno has probably been through a lot in his life and wants to spend a while living happily, making him more afraid to die than the others. this is even shown when he took teruko being angry as a threat while fukuchi laughed over it.

(as a small note, fukuchi's line in the anime was "haha. it seems our gremlin is angry today" which makes more sense in this context).

so tldr i think jouno would only go down if absolutely necessary and otherwise is fairly self-prioritizing.

tecchou

i believe tecchou would sacrifice himself if it brings justice.

however, he seems to see himself as one responsible for judgement, so i imagine he gives every single fight his all.

regardless of him acting as judgement, it's been shown that tecchou is willing to die if he fails at his work.

here he promises that if he were to fail he would commit seppuku (killing oneself via slicing through your stomach--an honourable death for a samurai fighter (which lines up with irl tetchou coming from samurai lineage)), which is an incredibly agonizing way to die. regardless, he is fully willing to do it if it is for peace. this shows a confidence in death and commitment to his sense of justice to an extreme manner.

and when he found himself in a situation where he was in the wrong, he immediately admitted defeat and asked his opponent to kill him.

he admits defeat, says his wrongs and is willing to accept the consequences.

he even jumps to the harsh conclusion that he isn't worthy of his title as a hunting dog. the stark white in his eyes show that his mind isn't corrupted and that he is doing what he believes is proper justice. incredibly noble.

luckily he was spared-and likely learned a lot about justice not always being as black and white as things appear.

overall, tecchou is a very noble fighter and is willing to put his life on the line for justice. he doesn't seem to fear death and will embrace it if he feels it is earned or deserved.

tachihara

i have less to say about tachihara than the others. i see him as the type that will go down over what's right and that's shown during his fight with fukuchi.

he isn't willing to fear death or beg for forgiveness. he will go down if it is worthy.

we also see that he keeps a argumentative spirit towards the enemy despite the circumstances. he will put down his opponent even in the moment of death, he just has the confidence to.

this panel also shows that he's more willing to die than to be defeated. he doesn't want to harm anyone and be controlled so he tries to kill himself first.

overall, he's a strong fighter who isn't afraid to sacrifice his life for what he believes in. his orders make him who he is, and if the orders are to win he either will or he will die trying.

(of course that last part doesn't really count when he was posing as a mafioso because he couldn't blow his cover by easily surviving everything).

teruko

much like tachihara, teruko seems to be very willing to put herself on the line to keep people safe. this is shown almost immediately in her introduction.

if ordered, she is willing to die. she's incredibly dedicated to her job and would go down if it saves people.

she's willing to go to drastic measures to keep herself alive as well, destroying her eardrum and continuing to try and fight sigma despite being under the directed resonance guns (which were made to destroy people like her). she didn't run, and she did absolutely everything she could have done in order to win.

she seems to also pride herself in fighting and being hurt in battle, likely to show her resilience and ability to do whatever it takes if it saves people.

she even goes on to call the hunting dogs "society's servants" and refers to the enhancement surgeries as "searing order into their own bodies."

this immense dedication makes me strongly believe that she would have no problem sacrificing herself if it is for the best. she killed fukuchi despite really caring for him, so i can see her being willing to put herself into that situation as well.

tysm for the question!!!!! this was super fun to read through the scenes again and try to piece together a logical guess on them all.

#i straight up spent like 30 mins trying to find the drafts button on tumblr pc so i coulf finish my answer og my god. worthit this is so fun #also sorry if the pictures or text is formatted weirdlyor for grammar mistakes im so tired its like 3am #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd jouno #bsd tetchou #bsd tecchou #bsd spoilers #asks #saigiku jouno #jouno saigiku #bsd tachihara #michizou tachihara #bsd teruko #teruko okura #bsd fukuchi #fukuchi ouchi #bsd analysis #tetchou suehiro #tecchou suehiro

[veala2]

ʟᴜꜰꜰʏ’ꜱ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ.

One Piece Fluff Alphabet: LUFFY.

CW - Luffy being Luffy and a little goofy, nothing serious or demeaning!

A/N - It’s spring break for me! I love spending time with family and friends so I might just be more inactive than I already am. Don’t worry though, Zoro’s is coming soon.

ʟ - ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏɴᴇꜱ: ʜᴏᴡ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ?

Let’s be honest here: Luffy is a child himself. His childlike sense of wonder and massive amount of pure energy already leaving him seem much younger than he actually is.

We’ve already seen how Luffy is around children on different occasions. Whether he’s kind and gentle, loving and reassuring, or his same rambunctious self he can relate to a child pretty easily. The young emperor of the sea won’t treat a child like their some whining creature. Rather, he views everybody the same and won’t discriminate no matter who you are.

All in all, he’s fun and friendly with children! And if their his own in the near future, he’ll do everything in his power to support and protect his children.

ᴜ - ᴜɢʟʏ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙᴀᴅ ʜᴀʙɪᴛꜱ?

We all know some of Luffy’s little habits. He tends to get loud at times where it’s no good. He eats whatever he wants, whenever he wants. But, his worst habit is more like a flaw.

Luffy is a selfish person. Ever since the day he proclaimed to his brothers that he was going to be king of the pirates. He’s been taking what he wanted since the beginning of his journey. Yes, it’s safe to say Monkey D. Luffy is a selfish person. But, he’s not a selfish person for selfish reasons.

He does what he wants, but still helps other people. Kingdoms, countries, islands. It doesn’t matter who it is he will help them. Selfishly. And that’s what makes Luffy so great.

Is it a habit? Honestly, I thought this was better than saying he only takes 1 bath per week.

ꜰ - ꜰɪᴀɴᴄE: ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ?

How do they feel about commitment?

Luffy is a go with the flow kind of person. He doesn’t do plans all that well, and can barely keep himself from straying off to the other pay. So, having a ring on his finger that’s meant to stay there until the day he dies is not too appealing to him.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves you like crazy! He’d never even consider cheating on you. But being in a relationship, “tied down” he’d say, is something he would have to get used to.

But- in the end- he’d grow to love the simple ring that’s snug on your fingers. A symbol of the love between you two, and the adventure of life you’ll share together.

ꜰ - ꜰɪɢʜᴛ: ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʙᴇ ᴇᴀꜱʏ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇ?

Luffy is Luffy. He wouldn’t change who he was for a second, even if he was going to die. His emotions are his and he will be who he is without any hesitation.

However… Luffy tends to say and do things when he’s angry that he wouldn’t mean. Remember Water 7? That fight between him and Usopp was powerful. The emotions set free and eventually drove Usopp away.

It might take a while to forgive Luffy. But he really does care about you and regrets what he said in the moment. After he explains himself and proves that he's sorry, I think it’d be pretty to forgive him.

ʏ - ʏᴜᴄᴋ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ, ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ?

What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in their partner?

In general, I believe that Luffy wouldn’t like someone who’s afraid and cowardly. Maybe just cowardly, seeing as you can be afraid and still be courageous. Thinking back to multiple examples of him saying he doesn’t like people who act like scaredy cats.

In a partner, I think he wouldn’t like- or would either deter them from him in general- would be not pursuing a dream. Luffy takes pride in his dream that he’s been working towards since he was a boy. And he respects those who have a dream that they’re going for, too. So if his partner won’t follow their heart, he would simply feel disappointed and discouraged with them.

Luffy’s goals are very precious. To both him and his crew. He’s willing to sacrifice everything for your dreams, so why not follow them and achieve what you’ve always wanted?

#one piece x reader #op x reader #one piece x you #one piece headcanons #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy headcanons #luffy x y/n #monkey d. luffy

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Two

Paul and Ringo cabaret duo au NOW!

Their collective bitter humor about the fan mag. I think George probably appreciates Paul getting into this sort of shit with him. Even if it is only on a surface-level. A reminder that the Beatles fame journey (something that's been hellish at times for George, enough to give him PTSD and other issues for the rest of his life) has not left Paul unscathed. That Paul actually does have feelings, however buried they may be.

Could even be that the appreciation comes out in the form of "I think your beard suits you. Man." Does the tacked-on 'man' mean a sort of "no homo" type qualifier? Or is it just an added endearment. I know we don't think of George as particularly inhibited, but it was the sixties. And of course Paul loves the compliment and has no idea what to do with it.

Can you all please thank Mal as he hands you your tea next time? Not that hard, guys.

Ringo's voice is so sexy. And I love how supportive Paul and George are of this very stupid song. If either of them had written it, they'd tear it to shreds, but it's Ringo, so we laugh along and enthuse about the sentiments behind the lyrics.

The communal bitching about EMI's treatment of them. As they should.

Oh goodness, it's the "Paul has an embarrassing crush" moment from that iconic post of @jeremy-hillary-boob He totally does and you should say it. "I never used to know what it meant". It's giving "girl pretends not to know how to hold her golf club so the hot guy will touch her".

I have a theory that some of their covers ~matter~ and "What do you want to make those eyes at me for?" Is the first one for me.

Okay this look right here that John is giving Paul? Not to, like, out myself as never having experienced pure love except from my own child or anything, but the only other place I've ever seen that look is on my one-year-old's face when I come get him from his nap. So ... "A lovely little baby, John was"

"If this boy dies, you're gonna cop it." Peak older brother behavior. He's joking, but he's also deadly serious.

In love with John trying to sing out of his range. He's trying so hard, you guys.

"Everybody had a hard year. 'well, I'm not sure, actually. Put [good year]." Same, John. Isn't it always that way? Hard. And good. He's such a genius lyricist. He just captures the human condition with such specificity.

Lol at Paul correcting John on the key of his own song (yeah, yeah, gimme some truth is secretly a colab but it's still a John song)

When they put a piano in front of Paul and John's instantly like "uh-oh, red-alert my beautiful boyfriend might not get captured perfectly from every angle" vs a year and a half later when he's bitching about Paul having too much screen-time in Let it Be. Well, you were part of the problem, babe.

I love George's way of teaching his songs. Whereas Paul was shouting key changes and counts between phrases, and John doesn't even bother to give any of that information, George is just softly singing "E, to F sharp minor. E to A." Beautiful. John and Paul, take notes.

Wonder if I'll get through a day without calling Paul a whore. Probably not.

John being instantly self-effacing after suggesting that genius little let's enhancement. "My mind can blow those clouds away" is actually much more original and thought-provoking, but John just makes fun of himself. Like. Just own it. You're John fucking Lennon!

The George/Paul convo (George talking, Paul hardly flinching) is so painful actually. Because from the outside, Paul's avoidance looks so condescending and unfeeling, but avoidance feels much more like 'Shit fuck shit dodge the fight, go around, don't react, don't engage, don't start something' and i really feel for both of them.

Let John do Help for gosh sakes!

"Not bad though. Good try, that. Johnny."

The part where Paul is looking just so exhausted, and he's actually letting it show, and then he sees the camera on him and hurries and tries to do a cheeky little Beatles head-shake and smile. But then he's really just too tired (and high) and he looks away and rubs his eyes. It was like watching an old circus bear. Those poor things.

And of course John's head snapping up like a little gopher when Paul says his name

#get back #the beatles #paul mccartney #ringo starr #george harrison #john lennon #mclennon #mal evans #Yes I will continue to just take pictures of my screen like an eighty year old woman #Yes I am sorry about the length. They're probably just going to be like that...

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Agree or disagree?

Wow, you probably want a one-word answer, but I'm gonna give you a paragraph (or maybe 7).

I feel like Lance would be laughing hysterically and nope out of the situation. Keith would probably scream or punch a wall first or at least have a lil broody moment to panic, but yeah after that he'd try to get out of it. Though, is this before or after the lion switches? Are we assuming that this is an au and the lions never happened? Because after the lion switch, Keith could probably be moved to the same category as Lance. But if it's before the lion switch, Lance would be moved to the same one as Keith/Hunk.

Though, yeah, Lance doesn't have enough self-value to believe that he's the chosen one. I think Keith would say no in a more, 'I don't care about your freaking prophecy, let me be broody and emo in peace.' They're both super insecure.

The one with Shiro made me laugh. It is SO spot on. Poor old man just wants a break. I think if this is after the lion switch/Kuron, then maybe Keith would be the one to jump in and be like, 'Nuh uh, stay away from my brother, if he dies again I am gonna be SO PISSED.'

Pidge... yeah. No explanation needed. There's a reason I'm emotionally attached to her/him/them. This angelic demon child must be protected.

Hunk! Poor Hunk. No, leave him out of this, I can see him giving them the biggest, saddest puppy eyes while he says that. He doesn't want to be the chosen one, I feel like the entire team would jump in and try to prevent that. But because he's a perfect angel, he would accept it to help him team and STOP IT THIS MAKING ME SAD.

Sorry bout that. Let's not talk about Hunk anymore.

Allura would see this as an obligation that she has, as a princess and as the (sort of) head of the Voltron coalition. She means those words completely, and will not let anyone down no matter what because this poor bean has too much pressure on her. The whole show was made to portray her as a serious, regal leader. However, she clearly has a dorky side, and her whole role/character would be so much deeper and engaging if this were a bigger part of her personality. 'I will not let you down, and I will be completely serious about it, and you will see the transition from when I was that fun older sister who you can confide in, to the scarred older sister who has seen far too much for one lifetime.'

Can we add Coran in? Because he would be in the same category as Allura, but he would whip out a cape from somewhere and be like, 'Yes! I knew this day would come! I will not let you down!' while twirling his mustache. (Holy crap I just heard his voice in my head crystal clear saying those words. His accent makes it sound so cute!) Coran Coran the Gorgeous Man saves the day! (And he would fulfill the prophecy perfectly, and there would be a giant parade with Coran-balloons and aliens swooning anytime he winks in their direction.)

So, yes. I agree with you.

#vld #voltron legendary defender #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #keith vld #vld keith #lance vld #takashi shirogane #vld shiro #coran hieronymus wimbleton smythe #coran voltron #shiro voltron #hunk garrett #hunk vld #pidge vld #vld pidge #pidge gunderson #pidge holt #allura vld #allura voltron #asks <3 #tawny post

[moonligsposts]

Dean Winchester x Reader

Not a boring life

«Are you listening to me? Dean.» Castiel puts his hand on my shoulder .

«I was thinking… you can read minds, don’t you?» Castiel looks at me.

«Yes, I can. Why?»

«The son of a bitch of that fucking angel made me see a reality in 6 years from now and… Sam had become his vassal, and Y/n was with him. They were, I mean… together. Besides, the devil told me I would lose her because he offered her something I can never give her. I know there’s a chance he’ll take Sam, but her?»

In my mind, I relive that damn moment a hundred of times: Sam, who isn’t Sammy anymore, possessed by the devil and Y/n who is at his side and he caressed her! That drives me crazy.

«So?» Castiel asks.

«Read Y/n’s mind, see if you can find something that she has lost or someone. Maybe she desires something more than anything.»

«Wouldn’t be better if you ask her?»

«Wouldn’t be better if you do what I asked you and don’t say a thing?!» he nods and disappears.

2 minutes later

«Done.»

«Oh, you’re already back.» I lean against the wall.

«So, what is her biggest secret?» I say funny but Castiel looks at me with a serious, too much seriousness, face.

«She lost her family: her dad died of a cancer when she was young and then her mother and her brother died in a car accident five years ago.» He tells me the story, and I see in his eyes the sadness.

«is there anything else? Why do you have that face?»

« I saw her feeling, Dean. It was distressing to see her memories, devastating to live them I guess. Besides it was hard to find those memories, it was like she erased them. She was alone most the time of her life. A child growing up too fast. But when she lost her mom and her brother in a car accident, she was in the car but she survived. She spent months to recovery, she wanted die with them...»

«She wanted to die? Why she didn’t tell me nothing?»

«Calm yourself, Dean, she has her reasons.»

«Yeah, and she can talk to me! I could help her.»

«Don’t you understand, Dean? She can’t even think about it… losing before her father, then all the rest of her family. Y/n just wants…»

«What?» Castiel and I turn around and see Y/n at the door. She just looked at Castiel, though.

«Cass, say that is not what I’m thinking…» Cass looks down at his feet.

«Why did you do that?» Her eyes begin to fill with tears.

«I’m sorry, Y/n…» Cass says.

«Why did you do that? Why are you talking to him about it?» Her breath becomes irregular. I approach her, but she immediately backs up.

«I wanna an answer Cass! Why did you do that?» Y/n yells at him. Cass’s embarrassment is evident.

«I asked him to do that.» as I said that she slowly turns to me.

«Why…?» I try again to get close to her, but she still backs up.

«That was my life! I had to be the one to tell you that not an angel who can reads minds! Why did you do that?» Y/n yells at me preventing me from approaching her.

«Baby, I asked Cass to do that because I need to know why you in 6 years, you would’ve said yes to the devil… the fucking angel made me see a reality, in 6 years from now, where you and Sam were with Lucifer and I realised I have to make things work differently…»

«Why didn’t you ask me, first?» i try to approach her again but she won’t let me touch her.

«Honey, why didn’t you tell me that? I could help you. I love you, I’m sorry for what you had to live through.»

But these words don’t calm her down, they make her more nervous.

«Yes? What would you have done? Take them back? That is impossible, and all I want is to forget! Forget about everything that has happened to me before this life with you! Sorry for not telling you anything that happens on this or whatever happen before that we met but I can’t…» she makes a pause, then say

«But you didn’t have the right to steal my secrets.» When she finishes talking, she turns and leaves the room.

«Oh, maybe you, Cass, could read my mind so you’ll explain to your friend how I feel right now. Steal this from me too.» She says defiantly to Castiel.

Now I feel guilty for both her and Cass too.

«Y/n, please listen to me…»

«LEAVE ME ALONE!I always respect the fact that you didn’t wanna talk about what fucking happened in the hell and I was okay with that! I never said nothing even when you didn’t wanna explain why you were sad or angry or whatever. Why can’t you do the same with me? Or maybe you could ask me instead…»

«Come on, love, lemme explain…»

«Yeah, no. The only thing that I wanna do is run away from here. Before you destroy everything, with you I never think about that! But you have to know, right? All that matters was that you know.

Don’t follow me, I hate you right now and I don’t wanna even see you.»

These words strike me deeply... but it is true, I never told her what had happened in hell or the shit life I had before meeting her. Yet, she was always by my side when all I needed was a hug.

The sound of the door closing makes me lose my mind.

«Sorry Cass… »I say quickly and I go to the room. Y/n's voice is the only thing I can hear when I look in the mirror and see myself.

I punch the mirror, hurting my hand, then

I throw the TV and lampshades on the ground. Then I take the chair and split it on the dresser...

After completely destroying the room, I sit on the floor leaning against the wall, covering my face with my hands.

I’m tired of always trying to do the right thing to protect the people I love but, no matter what I do, everything has to fuck up!

Every fucking time!

Y/n’s pov

After running until my feet begged me to stop, I sat by a lake.

Dean didn’t have to do this to me, he didn’t have to steal my thoughts. And yet it’s his style. Getting what he wants by any means...

After the last double funeral, I walked out of that house and vowed never to return. All my life, forgetting was the antidote to everything that hurt me.

But even if I try, I can’t forget, and every time these thoughts come back, I get lost.

One year after my mother and brother died, Dean came along, like a bolt from the blue. And damn me falling in love with him... of him, of the life that appeared in front me, of Sam, of hunting.

Not a boring life.

Maybe I exaggerated... the words I said to him definitely hurt him. I pick up the phone and find a message from Dean.

“I’m sorry, I know I fucked up, I know, but please before everything talk to me. Love you.”

I don’t answer the message, but I get up and go back.

I open the front door and go to the kitchen where the light is on.

«It’s very late.» Dean says.

«I’m sorry, I…» as soon as I start talking he turns to me. I see his bloody hands.

«What happen?» This time, I’m getting close to him.

«I’m sorry. I lost my mind. Look Yn, I’m really sorry. But all I wanted to do was keep you safe from Lucifer and I need to know why you would’ve chosen him.»

«I never would choose him.»

«He would promise you to take them back.»Seeing his shiny eyes saddens me and, even all he does, the only thing I wanna do is kiss him.

«This is impossible. And even if this is possible in a certain demoniac way, I don’t care: they are dead and I know that pretty well.»

I love you, Y/n. » Dean smiles and continues

«I know that I love you, sweetheart. I loved you since the first time I saw you. Every time I'm with him, I find myself forgetting all the pain I've endured when we look into each other's eyes.

«Can I touch you? » Dean asks me.

«You have to.» I find myself in his arms in a flash.

«I love you, Dean.» I hear his laugh in my ears. He takes me in his arms and rests me on the kitchen counter, I gird his life with my legs.

«You don’t know how much I love you, Y/n.» He says as he kisses my neck and my hands caress his hair.

«I’m yours…» Dean says.

«And I’m yours, Dean.»

«Say it again, I think I could come.»

«Just like this? I didn’t even touch you there…» He lifts his head from the hollow of my neck and takes my face in his hands.

«You don’t need to touch me to turn me on.» I smile and kiss him on his beautiful lips.

This is all I need to make me feel alive...

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