#there's nothing to be scared of and there's nothing wasted

[st-eve-barnes]

By your side (Aemond x wife reader)

I haven't written anything in a while but of course I had to write something inspired by that gif (it's a little different in the fic though). This was written quickly, feel free to point out any mistakes, I just had to get this little thing out.

Summary: Aemond is in need of comfort and reassurance and his wife is there for him.

Word count: +1240

Warning: none, this is just some angsty fluff

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

You found him in his favorite spot, his comfortable chair by the fireplace, where he loved to read at the end of a long day or have a drink to forget about his worries before going to bed. Tonight was the latter, minus the drink.

He had barely greeted you when you walked in, in fact he barely looked up. Not even when you had taken off your coat and revealed your favorite green night gown, the one Aemond loved the most. His lack of attention for you was enough to tell you your husband was preoccupied and distracted.

“Council didn’t go as you had hoped?”

Aemond was quiet for a while and you didn’t push, allowing him time to resurface from wherever his mind was right now. It took a few minutes before he answered, his voice weak. “They laughed.”

You turned to look at him but Aemond didn’t meet your gaze.

“Every time I tried to bring up these undeniably pressing matters they just laughed at me. They are fools, all of them.”

You sat down on the side of the bed, facing the fireplace and him. He was down to his undergarments, his leather discarded on the floor, his eye patch on the bedside table and his hair loose, framing his long face. He looked more vulnerable than ever in the dim light of the fire and your heart bled for him.

“War is imminent and they just choose to ignore it, am I the only one with common sense in this entire bloody realm?”

He tried to raise his voice but it came out more broken than before.

You didn’t speak, instead you rose from the bed and walked over towards his chair. Not wasting any more time you took your rightful spot in Aemond’s lap, your hand cupping his cheek gently, bringing him back down to the warmth and solitude of the room instead of his loud, intruding thoughts.

Finally he looked up to meet your eyes, his hands coming to rest on your hips, his good eye was clouded with emotions.

To the outside world Aemond seemed calm and stern, always in control and always confident. But anyone who truly knew him, knew better than that and you had gotten to know him a whole lot better than anyone else during your two years of marriage.

Your husband was stubborn, protective, kind or cold depending on who he was dealing with. A warrior and a scared boy all in one. The smartest dumbass you had ever met. His beauty still amazed you every single day and his devotion to you was unlike anything you had ever dared to hope for or dream of in a husband. 

But there was an undeniable dark side to him as well. Aemond held so much unresolved anger in him, always right there under the surface. Ever since Lucerys, and even before that, Aemond was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off and you were never not aware of it. 

Despite that he had been nothing but kind and loving to you and you had never felt any kind of fear in his presence. On the contrary, the longer you had been married to him the softer he had become with you.

He closed his good eye and pressed his cheek into your hand, letting out the breath he’d been holding all day. Your comforting touch gave him the much needed solace he couldn’t find anywhere else. Your hands moved to caress his hair and his cheek, pulling more soft sighs from him. You didn’t have the words to heal all his wounds but you knew Aemond didn’t need them at this time. All he needed was your comfort, your loyalty and love.

You placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and felt him pull you deeper into his lap. You followed willingly, as you always did with Aemond.

You both sat in silence for a while until finally he spoke again.”When they laughed…I was right there again, that little kid who everybody hated and ignored….he had the entire world against him but he was so brave.”

“You are still brave, Aemond,” you whispered, caressing his long silver hair.

“And I’m still hated and ignored,” he added with a sigh.

“I don’t hate you, and I would never ignore you, my sweet husband,” your lips curled up into what you hoped was an encouraging smile and much to your relief Aemond responded, although it was weak the little hint of affection in his eyes was a clear sign his anger was already fading.

He leaned in to place the softest, lingering kiss on your lips making your heart flutter.

“I am not deserving of any of this,” he then whispered.

“What do you mean any of this?”

“You,” he breathed,” I am not deserving of you.”

You cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you,”I chose you. Have you forgotten that? I’ve gotten plenty of other offers but I only wanted you, Aemond.”

“You chose me before…before I…”

“I would still choose you today,” you reassured him and Aemond looked at you with surprise and a hint of tears in his eye.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he realized,”Even after…what I’ve done.”

“What you’ve done isn’t worse than what half the men in Westeros have done.”

You hesitated for a moment.

“I know we’re on the verge of war and you’ll have to do much worse things than that,” you then added,”I am not naive, Aemond, I know the dark world we live in and I know what’s ahead of us but...it does not change how I feel about you.”

His eye seemed to be locked on yours now, looking at you in awe as a tear ran down his cheek but it wasn’t one of sadness this time.

“You will be by my side, through all of it,” he realized again, even though his words sounded like a question.

“Of course. I have sworn my loyalty to you, my prince, I do not take such things lightly.”

Aemond nodded at your official choice of words and you quickly added,”Besides that I…I love you. No matter what happened in the past or what the future may throw at us, I am on your side, husband, always.”

You gently wiped the tears from his cheek and Aemond breathed a sigh of relief.”Avy jorrāelan, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys.”

I love you, my sweet wife

HIs hand traveled up your back to drag you closer to him and capture your lips in another kiss, this one more heated and urgent than before but after a while he hesitantly pulled back. Worry was still clouding his beautiful features, making him look beyond exhausted. You lovingly cupped his cheek and gave him an understanding smile.

“Can we just rest tonight?” he requested quietly. You were quick to nod and pull yourself out of his lap, reaching out your hands to take Aemond with you. He followed eagerly, the both of you seeking refuge under the covers of your marital bed, the silence of the room and the comforting crackling of the fire adding to your own exhaustion.

Aemond’s arm snaked around you in a protective pull to have you closer to his chest, needy and warm.

The impending war would have to wait for now, the only thing that mattered tonight was holding your husband.

#aemond x reader #aemond x wife #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #hotd fanfic #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond fanfiction

[starfxkr]

I’m scared to share my freaky and truly nasty thoughts here just yet… but trailer park!jj coming home all pissed about his stupid fucking boss and idiots coming to get their car fixed and trailer park!reader is finishing up during when jj comes to her all scary and rape-y like manhandling her but she’s fighting against him bc she made dinner and wants to just sit and eat with him and he ends up pounding her on the kitchen floor of his trailer cause she never listens

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

the day he had couldn't have been fuckin worse, and here you were with all that fucking yapping. truth be told jj couldn't give much of a fuck about your day, which deep down made him feel shitty because of how bright and happy you looked when you saw him, babbling on about the dinner you made and hoping he liked it, but he didn't say anything. instead he stood over you, leaning against the fridge and blocking the only path out as he watched your smile fade.

"um...did i do something wrong?" you shifted anxiously when you finally caught onto his sour mood.

"nah, nothin you did just had a bad day." you looked visibly relieved you weren't the cause until he continued, "you could fix it though."

you had a suspicion about what he meant, and it had nothing to do with the meal he just prepared, "but-but i cooked..."

jj just shrugs, "that's not what i'm hungry for."

in a split second he reaches out to grab you, fussing and fighting as you struggled against his grasp, "wait-! it's gonna be cold, i just wanted to eat eat with you!" try as you might, you were no match for the sheer size and strength of him.

"we'll heat it back up then."

it's nothing for him to wrestle you face first to the kitchen floor, despite your kicking and smacking he was quick to restrain your grasping hands in one fist as he pulled your panties down with another. you're not wet enough, not yet, so he quickly wets his fingers in his mouth to plunge them into you, stretching you out as quickly as possible before spitting right on your plump lips, smirking when he sees your hole clench around the air, "there we go, that's what i wanna see."

you're squirming in his grasp when he pushes in, whining at the burning stretch, "papa it hurts...i just-i just wanted to-"

he wastes no time setting a punishing rhythm, using his grip on you as leverage and he mocks, "just wanted to what sweet pea? go on, tell me."

you can't, not with the pace he's at and the depth he's going. all words flew out your mind as you finally submitted to the harsh pounding.

"you just talk so fuckin much, i just wanted a little peace, that's it."

if silence was what he was after, he got it. you were so overwhelmed you could barely breathe, only letting out soft clicking grunts as he stroked your walls and bumped against your cervix almost painfully.

by the way your feet were starting to kick he could tell you were close--problem was he didn't know if he wanted to let you cum or not.

"shit...you're gonna make a mess huh?"

weakly you nod, doing your best to stratch at him so he would ease up, "god, stop. i-i have to pee..." you let out a sharp whine as he speeds up, fucking down into you as the squelch of your pussy increases, "slowdownslowdownslow-ah!"

it's like you stop breathing completely, your whole body seizing up as you squirt your release all over the kitchen floor. vaguely you hear a loud groan behind you, then a flood of heat fills your cunt as you lay there panting and spent.

jj lets you go as he pulls out, very narrowly avoid you collapsing onto the floor as he catches you and brings you back up to rest against his chest.

"sorry bout that sweet pea, i just needed a moment. now what'd you say you cooked again im starvin."

#✨.txt #jj maybank prompt #trailer park!jj

[missterious-figure]

OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! HOW WOULD THE BOYS REACT IF THEY SEE THEIR DEAR LITTLE HANDLER BEING HARASSED? Either physical or naughty flirty with inappropriate touches

The boys would most likely go ballistic, and attacked the offender on the spot.

Suggestive Warning: sexaul harassment, sexaul references.

You walked slowly through the safari zone, back on your way to the bar. You had just finished watching two adorable Indian roller chicks while they're parents were away performing. You were the only one free at the time, so you happily agreed. And better yet, Sun, Moon and Eclipse were busy at the bar performing for some event, so they weren't able to tease or bother you while you looked after the babies. But eventually they got someone else to take care of the hatchlings, so you were shooed away.

Other than that, today had been a good day. At least, for now... As the bar came into view, you knew the boys would be ending their performances soon. You sighed. Better get ready for the teasing. Your day already seemed worse. You opened the doors to hear the crowd finish up their cheering and the brothers disappeared behind the red curtain on the makeshift stage. Good. At least they wouldn't notice as you walked in.You managed to push your way through the many bodies to the counter without getting jostled too much. The bartender glanced up at you a smiled. You smiled back, before asking.

"Could I have a water please?"

Before they could respond, someone slammed you into the counter from behind. You were going to push them away, but who ever it was shoved one of their hands over your mouth and used the other to hold your hip. As you tried to get your lips free, you glared back at the offender. It was muscular dude with messy ginger hair and some peach fuzz to compensate for a beard. He wasn't dressed very fancy, which you found odd, given where he was. He wore a tattered white tang top covered in stains and long ripped jeans that pooled over brown sandles. You broke your face free from his grip and growled at him.

"Let me go!"

He quickly covered your mouth again and whispered in your ear, his breath heavily tainted by alcohol. He was kneading your hip with his other hand as he spoke.

"You're pretty cute, sweet cakes. I think you're going to be perfect."

He licked his lips as he admired you in areas you would rather him not. Small tears stung the corners of your eyes as he drew himself even closer.

"Perfectly small..."

Without warning, he was yanked off your body, and tossed through the air in the opposite direction. The man crashed in to a table, interrupting a couple's meal together. Meanwhile, you almost fell face first into the counter due to the shift in sudden weight. Before you could, gloved hands caught you. Gazing back, you were met by Sun's worried face. He turned you about and held you by your shoulders.

"Are you okay, Darling?"

You whimpered and nodded. Sun gently set you down on the ground and retracted his hands to himself. He looked like he wanted to hug you, but was holding himself back. You looked past Sun just in time to see Eclipse pick the man off the ruined table by the arm. He was probably the one who threw the guy. Eclipse brought him face to face.

"If I ever see you touch them again- no, if I ever see you NEAR them again, you will be severely punished. Now, get lost!"

Eclipse tossed him to the ground like he was nothing but a piece of trash. The man wasted no time. He scrambled onto his feet and dashed out of the bar. Eclipse watched until he was gone. He then turned to you and walked over. He crouched to your height. You backed away, scared, and not wanting to be touched. This was all happening too fast. But his eyes were soft and welcoming. You relaxed a little, reaching out. He gently embraced you. You snuggled quietly into his fluffy neck feathers, you hadn't even noticed you had started crying. Eclipse slowly stood. Your eyes were buried, but you could tell he was moving. You listened as Sun tried to follow Eclipse, by the sound of boots close behind.

Eclipse paused and growled at his little brother. You looked up at him, confused. You didn't expect him to get aggressive with his brother, and neither did Sun, as he looked quite shocked. That seemed more like a Moon thing to do. Speaking of Moon, you hadn't seen him this entire time. Hopefully he wasn't getting into any trouble...

Sun stared quietly at Eclipse, before turning around and marching back to the bar, angry. You almost felt bad for him. Eclipse continued his walking. As he did, you rested your head back into his neck. The rhythmic walking and bobbing made you sleep. That, and how much you were crying. You heard the click of a door opening. Everything else after that was hazy.

You could feel him placing him in his hammock... covering you with a blanket... sitting on the floor next to you, he started playing a song... no, he was singing... Your soft snoring filled the air. Eclipse still sung his song, watching your body contract with every breath. You were precious, and nobody was going to hurt you like that again...

#suggestive warning #dca au #wine and feathers au #answered #missterious drabble

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll #14

[Mermay Special Part 4 Warning: Yandere, Violence, Mention of Blood/Claws/Getting hurt/Someone else getting mauled and hurt, Chase Scene]

"No. NO!"

Your friend's voice boomed through the room. Strangely, the water didn't stop the sound from ringing out clearly and sharply, your ears feeling like they were exploding. There was little resemblance to the kind and sweet friend you knew. Their body contorted, their eyes bulging, fingers growing rigid, and their fangs snapping at the water before them. They were changing into a monster you only knew from horror movies, but worse was knowing you were the cause.

The queen gasped, just as much in shock as you were, but she regained her composure quickly when your friend charged at her, letting out their anger on her rather than you. She slipped by him, their claws ripping the skin on her arms cleanly like a scalpel, but she didn't deter. She grabbed your body by your arms, yanking you up and forward through the door.

"Swim!" she screamed as she used her body to barricade the door that she had shut closed immediately after exiting. You could see that she struggled as something or someone was thrown into the door repeatedly, trying to break out. "Don't look back! Just swim down the hallway and when you see the portal go right through it! Don't waste time here!"

There was a faint sense of desperation in the way she urged you, and you knew she couldn't hold your friend back much longer. Your head hurt, your body felt unfamiliar, and the screams of your friend told you to surrender, but when the queen gave you one last pleading look, you got yourself together and moved forward, leaving her behind. You could only pray your friend wouldn't do anything to his own mother and that she'd hold them back long enough for you to go.

You swam and swam, slamming into walls as you kept losing control over your own tail, clumsily, stupidly, feeling like a child. "[Name]!" you heard your friend yell behind you, and you jumped in surprise; they sounded so close. It scared you, they scared you. Everything about this world and chase was scary, and all you could do was keep your eyes forward like the queen told you and swim.

Finally, the portal appeared in the room before you, a sense of relief washing over you as you gathered your strength and caught yourself from hitting the walls again, the goal so close. It was almost too good to be true, and when a torrent moved you forward, followed by the sound of a massive body slamming into the corner behind you, you knew you were screwed.

Letting out a pitiful squeak, you picked up the pace, your friend suddenly right behind you. "Stay!" they begged, but it sounded like a demand. "Don't go back there! You're supposed to be here with me! What did that witch tell you?! Oh, I'll kill her if you leave! She'll be dead because of you! Don't go! Please, don't go!"

The chaos of their voice all around you didn't stop you from going forward. They were nuts, completely out of their mind. Nothing in this world could make you stay, and you reached out your hand towards the portal's light when...

Suddenly, you were yanked back.

You screamed as sharp claws dug into you, keeping themselves anchored inside your tail and tearing it apart. This time, you had to look back.

"Stay with me. I love you," your friend begged, bubbles rising from their eyes like tears. They had changed back into their normal self, beautiful, although you knew better now. It was all a facade. You shook your head, throat tight with fear and adrenaline. Their expression changed instantly, darker and more deadly, but your eyes were torn from your friend despite them reaching up, seemingly trying to attack you again.

With a heavy thud, the queen slammed a stone down on your friends head. They gurgled before sinking to the ground. "Go!" the queen yelled, her beautiful face ripped apart by claws, blood mixing into the water all around her.

You didn't make her repeat herself, the portal welcoming you with a waft of wind and the sounds of birds chirping.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You rubbed your palm along the muscle in your thigh, feeling the strange, burning sensation that had recently started acting up. You didn't know why, but sometimes, when you looked into a mirror or took a shower, it appeared. It was pretty annoying, but the doctors told you to just let it come and go as there were no signs as to what caused it.

But ever since your family decided to take a trip to the beach, this sensation had been acting up constantly. At this point, it was making your stomach churn, anxiety flooding your senses for some unknown reason. You tried brushing it off, listening to your mom and sister talk instead, but it was hard to ignore.

"Are mermaids real?" your sister asked, and your mom chuckled, turning around in the passenger seat to wink at you to tell you to keep up the charade. "They are so real. And they capture little kids and keep them locked up underwater so they can eat them."

Your sister squealed before giggling her adorable laugh. What a stupid story, you thought. Mermaids don't exist.

Finally, at the beach, your family set up the towels before running off to get food and dip into the water. But for some reason, you couldn't help but let time pass you by as you stared out into the ocean, strangely captivated by the waves. You jumped, eyes widening when you thought you saw a head pop out far, far beyond where everyone was swimming, sharp eyes fixating on you, but it was gone with the next wave. Your thigh burned, and this time, it hurt so much you could barely keep standing. You considered cooling down in the water, but the pain only intensified.

Your sister ran up to you not long after you took a seat in the sand, wanting to take you swimming with her. You refused, citing that you were hurt and needed to rest.

"But the mermaid told me to bring you to them..." she mumbled, wrecking her little head about what to do now.

"Who?" you asked, and she shot you a bright beam.

"The mermaid! They aren't mean at all like Mom said! They said we could come to their underwater palace with them! I want to, can we? Pleaseeeee!"

As the pain throbbed in your thigh, you watched as your sister jogged back into the water, arms flailing when she was suddenly pulled under. One second she was there, the next she was gone, and in her place, a strangely familiar face lurked out of the water, beautiful, ethereal. But the eyes of the stranger were weird, dark and mysterious. Driven by an unknown feeling that ran a shiver down your spine.

"Your turn." The stranger lifted a hand out of the water, webs between their fingers, inviting you in, and your leg hurt even more.

"I waited long enough for you to return, my spouse."

Was there ever really a choice for you?

(Reasoning and discussions welcome! ♥)

#Yan-Poll #mermay #mermay 2024 #mermay 2023 #yandere talk #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[liliewrites]

Hii! Do you still take requests? If so, could you please write some fluff with soft Arlecchino x fem!Reader, who has big sleeping problems and stuff like that. And maybe Arle humming a quiet little lullaby/tune, to help calm us or stuff 👀

Or! 'Cchino with Fem!Reader, who's afraid of thunderstorms

If you have an idea on a way to combine both that would be so so cool and amazing! Sorry if there is something wrong about it. You ofc dont have to write it, if you dont want to

HELLOOOO ANONNNN!!:) it is i, kylie, here to make ur wishes come true and lemme tell u because i actually do struggle with sleep sometimes and to have arlecchino comfort you.. what a dream.. (funnily enough i have a plushiecchino and i have it next to me when i sleep she's so skrunklydoo) anyw here's ur request! hope u like itttttttt!!

-warning/s ; none! just tooth rotting fluff with soft arle:))

(men pls dni utc!)

it was a cold, stormy night.

your lover lay beside you, sound asleep with her arms loosely wrapped around you. you let out a sigh, this was one of the many nights that you were just hit with the inability to sleep and the thunderstorm was not helping either. it frustrated you greatly as lacking adequate sleep extremely made you feel more tired during the day when taking care of the children. however, your efforts were futile, completely giving up as what you've estimated to have wasted at least half an hour on trying to force yourself to sleep, you carefully slip away from your lover's hold, being wary of not waking her up. as soon as you were able to get out of bed without issue, you stretched a little before grabbing the silk robe on the nearby armchair. you put it on and messily tied your hair into a bun, slipping your feet into those fluffy slippers to further silence your footsteps.

you then headed for the door so you could leave for the study room down the hall as you decided to just read instead yet not even a few steps away from the armchair near your bed, your wife had started to shuffle around making you halt your movements. you were startled when she immediately sat straight up, eyes darting everywhere as she looked for you. "beloved??" she exclaimed, unable to see you as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

you looked at her, finding her adorable as she sat there with an alarmed expression, but the sleepiness was evident on her face. "darling, hello.." you greeted her with a sheepish smile, and you could see the look of relief that was then replaced with worry. "is there something the matter, my love? it's in the middle of the night.." she mumbled, getting off the bed to approach you. clad only in her pajamas and a loose tank top, you couldn't help but blush a little, your wife looked handsome and gorgeous as she walked towards you.

"is it because you cannot fall asleep again, love?"

she asked as strong, firm arms had found it's way around your waist. arlecchino was taller than you, no doubt, and she placed her chin on your shoulder. her bigger figure that slightly engulfed yours always provided you a sense of safety and comfort, so you were able to let out a sigh of relief as she tucked herself in the crook of your neck, pressing her lips on your skin.

"unfortunately, that is the case, my beloved. i was just going to head to the study room to read, you can go back to sleep.."

at your words, arlecchino separated from your shoulder to look at you. she's noticed that you've been having trouble sleeping more often lately, and it worries her greatly. "are you ill, beloved? perhaps any issues or problems that plague your mind?" she asks, and your hands find it's way to her face. your touch a soothing balm to her troubled soul, but her worries remained nonetheless and you knew that.

"nothing much, really. i just cannot fall back asleep, and the thunderstorm isn't helping. it's.. scaring me a little." you told her truthfully, and it assured her at least a little to know that you were unharmed and safe from any sort of illness, but the issue of you losing sleep while being frightened of the ongoing thunderstorm stays nagging her mind. she lets out a sigh and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, before whispering in your ear. "then lay with me, my love. let me put you back to sleep."

with no objections, you nodded, deciding to put your faith into arlecchino's capabilities of putting someone to sleep. after all, you guessed that before you, it was her who took tucked the children in bed. she grabbed your hand and led you back to bed, tucking you under the sheets before climbing in beside you. she leaned on the headboard, pulling your head to lay on her chest as she held you close. "i wonder, will i be experiencing what you do to the kids when they cannot sleep?" you jest, and she pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "no, do you want to? usually they end up crying when i use my preferred method." she answers with her usual deadpan tone, making you look at her with a slightly upset gaze. "arlecchino! what did you do to the kids?" you asked, with a scolding tone, causing the harbinger's heart swoon a little with your concern for the kids. her lips break into a small smile, patting your head. "kidding, my dear. i do not harm them but also do not "tuck" them. when they tell me that they cannot sleep i just tell them that i will make them fall asleep, and they usually scurry off." she confesses, and you sigh, now you know why the kids ask you to tuck them in bed. before you could speak a word, she cuts you off.

"- but that is besides the point, love. for now, we should focus on getting you back to sleep."

you nod, settling back into her chest, deciding to let it go for tonight and talk about it in the morning instead. the moment you close your eyes though, a roaring thunder crackled, making you flinch. arlecchino says nothing, but she wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you in a tight and protective embrace.

"beloved, i.. want to hear your voice. could you perhaps sing me a lullaby?"

arlecchino was a harbinger-- and one known to be a bringer of death. she was not a singer. she was a trained soldier, one among the highest ranks. she wouldn't agree with your request.

but..

"very well, but i will not sing. humming a melody is the best i can do."

"fair enough."

you couldn't help but smile, knowing your wife couldn't outright and completely say no to you, so much for being feared across teyvat, you think. arlecchino notices the smile on your face, and she may not have shown much of a reaction, but she feels her heart flutter-- and really, even if it means looking like a fool, then she would. she'd be true to her name and act like a harlequin if it meant seeing you smile.

you close your eyes to the sound of her heartbeat, accompanied with her soft humming. her hand caressing your shoulder in a comforting manner, before wrapping two arms around you to hold you much much more closer. the thunderstorm was loud and it persisted, but as of the moment, all you could focus on was your wife, and it was helping. a lot.

and by a lot, it meant that you were able to close your eyes without flinching, despite the roaring thunder. all you could hear was your wife's humming. oh, how she sounded so beautiful along with her gentle heartbeat, and that was what you focused your mind on.

not more than 5 minutes, you felt yourself slowly succumb to sleep. her humming, her heartbeats, her warm embrace, all of it were the missing factors to the perfect solution for your lack of sleep.

she noticed that you had leaned in and pressed more weight into on, so she brushed a strand of hair from your face and tucked it into your ear. beautiful, was all that she thought as she stared at you for a while before concluding that you had already fallen back to sleep.

slowly, she leaned back down so both of you could now lay on the pillows instead of the headboard, but she still held you close to her chest to ensure that you felt safe and protected even while asleep.

it was indeed, a cold, stormy night.

but your wife held you through it, comforting you and thankfully, you had finally drifted back to sleep. "goodnight, beloved. i hope you have good dreams." she whispers lovingly into your ear, then pressing a kiss to your forehead. she closes her eyes, finding it easy to fall asleep almost immediately. the love of her life was beside her after all, and your presence alone was enough to lull her back to sleep.

the next morning you ask the kids what arlecchino usually does when they can't fall asleep, and you find out that having them be tucked in bed by her is something that rarely happens. often times, she does actually tell them that she'd make them fall asleep by force, but when they r sick, scared or troubled then arlecchino takes them back to their room and once they get climb in bed and get snug, she pats them on the head, says goodnight and leaves. when they are really freightened though, she stays for awhile and waits them to fall asleep, before leaving. arle good dad just not affectionate--

#arlecchino x reader #lilac asks💜 #lilac writes💜 #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino genshin impact #here's me spreading my soft arle agenda again hahaha oof

[romanarose]

You'd Love Me If I Was a Worm, Would You Love Me If I Was A Man?

Santiago Garcia x transman!reader

Masterlist : Triple Frontier Masterlist

Made for the Oscar/Pedro Pride Event

Summary: You're Santi's wife or so he thinks, he loves you very, very much... You're scared to ruin it with honesty.

Or

You come out as trans to Santi

Warnings: Pretty mild, Santi is perfect. Gender dysphoria, body dysphoria, mentions of conversion therapy.

AN: This is just based on my feelings right now. IDK exactly how I identify, but doing things like cutting my hair and dressing more masculine has helped me a lot. No one needs to cut their hair short to be a man, trans or otherwise, nor does a trans person NEED surgery or any changes. This is simply based on my experience. People feel this differently.

1k words

“How’s my favorite girl?”

Santi greeted you as he came home, finding you in your bathroom staring at your face and your body in your underwear, cringing at him calling you a girl but trying to hide the visceral reaction. You hated your hair, you hated how feminine it made you look, but you knew Santi loved it, so you kept it long and usually in a ponytail.No matter how hard you tried, no matter the body positivity, no matter how good you objectively looked and how Santiago worshiped it, none of it felt right to you. You’d been considering telling him how you’d been feeling for some time, but it felt selfish. How could you tell him you thought you might be a man when he fell in love with a woman?

He clocked your cringe, as he always did your discomfort. “What’s wrong, bebita?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, just tired.”

“I don’t believe you for a second, c’mon.” taking your hand, Santi pulls you into the bedroom and sits you down with him, his eyes pleading with you for honesty. “You can talk to me, it’s okay.”

Your eyes fill up with tears, stressing out and over thinking it all so much. “It’s not fair to you.” You begin to cry, and it isn’t. This isn't what Santi signed up for when he married you. He married his wife, not whatever was happening to you right now. You should’ve told him, you should’ve been honest with from the start. “I thought this would go away, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I lied to you!”

Horrified at the tears, Santiago pulls you into his arms. “Oh honey… whatever it is, you can tell me, please. Nothing is too much, you’re my wife, and I’m gonna take care of you, always.” 

It couldn’t be hidden anymore. You had to be honest before you wasted more of his time. Pulling back, you look him in the eyes, your own still watering. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m your wife…” You watch his eye widen and you realize your choice of words was poor. “Nonono! Not like that!” You’re quick to reassure him you aren’t leaving him. He’ll probably leave you, however. “I just mean…” Big breath. “I feel… like I’m a man.”

He looked confused for a second before recognition registered on his face.

“Oh… how long have you felt this way?” You couldn’t get a read on his reaction yet, but he still held your hands.

“I really, really long time, Santi. I thought I’d grow out of it…”

He nods. “Since you were a kid?”

“Yeah.” You sniffle. “I tried to tell my parents but… they… They sent me away.”

Santiago’s face hardened at that. “Conversion therapy?”

Memories flooded back to what you suffered there, creating a fresh bout of tears down your face. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I tried to put it away but nothing worked! I know you probably don’t want me any more but please, please I’m gonna try, I can go to therapy again-”

You try to tell him that you can change, to give you a chance and you’ll fix it, trying to walk yourself back into the closet after being out less than 5 minutes, but he cuts you off with a kiss.

“Baby,” He stresses, pain on his face as cups your cheek with his hands, thumbing away a tear. “I’m not leaving you, and you are not going to conversion therapy, you hear me? That is not happening. We’re gonna do whatever we need to do to make you feel comfortable with yourself, okay? If that means transitioning, then we’ll make it happen.”

In shock, you blink. “But… Santi, you’re not gay…”

Santiago chuckles a little. “I don’t really know how this works, to be honest. I didn’t think I was either but… I love you. I’m attracted to you. That’s what I know.” When you didn’t look convinced, he continued. “Remember all the times you asked me if I’d love you if you were a worm?”

You giggle a little at the memory, beginning to feel better. “Yeah, you were confused.”

He nods with a smile. “Yeah, so were most of the guys. But Will told me it’s not about if I’d actually love you if you were a worm, because you’d never actually be a worm. It’s about being reassured that no matter what, I’d still be yours and you’d still be mine. So I told you I’d make you a little garden like Oscar the grouch has for wormy.”

You’re smiling now too. “And read me worm versions of fairy tales before bed.”

“And kiss your little worm head, because I love you. So, if you feel like you are a man, and you want to live life as man and if that makes me gay then yeah. I’m gay. I don’t really care about that. I care about you.”

"And... maybe, maybe its not even that I'm a man... just maybe not fully a woman?"

"Like, one of those in between things?"

You laugh at his wording. He may not have the best terminology, but he tries.

He sighs softly, holding your face. "If you feel like you're non... binary?" He asks questioningly, and you nod so he continues. "Or half and half or non at all... that's okay too. Whatever you are, i's what you are, and you're still you to me. But, baby." He kisses the tip of your nose. "Don't try and lessen it for me, okay? If you want to live and be fully as man, then that's what it is."

Letting his words sink in, your heart fills with love at his unconditional affection. “So… what next? What do I even do now?”

“Well,” Santi considers next steps. “I think we try to get you in with a doctor. I don’t think it goes straight to surgery,” He says with a tease. “But maybe hormones? I don’t know. I can talk to Ben whenever you’re ready for me to, I know he knows more of this than I do.”

“Can we maybe…” Your reach for a tissue, blowing it as you calm down more and more. “Can I maybe start with a haircut.”

This makes Santi laugh, standing up and taking you with him to capture you in a full body hug. “Of course we can! You don’t need my permission to get a haircut, mi cielo!” You notice how he immediately changed to masculine gendered terms of endearment. “Santi peppered kisses all over your face. “Wanna go today?”

You’re so excited at the idea, you readily agree.

An hour later, the kind stylist is chopping off your hair. As she gives you a moment to sit with the cut, Santi comes up behind the chair, wrapping his arms around you. “How do you feel, mi amor.” He says with a kiss to your neck.

You take in this first step, the start of a journey that you knew wouldn’t be easy but you had the best person ever by your side.

“I think… I actually feel like myself.”

shout out to @hee-blee-art for these cute ass dividers that were wierdly specific to this story lol

Most unrealistic thing about this fic is reader saying Santi isn't gay. Did we see the same movie? homosexual activity was hapeing on those mountains

HAPPY PRIDE!!! I can't wait to see what everyone did for this event <3

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #bi santiago garcia #bisexual santiago garcia #pride #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 #trans reader #trans masc reader #Santiago garcia trans masc reader #triple frontier x reader #santiago garcia fluff #fluff #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia fanfiction #triple frontier fluff #pride 2024

[animeyanderelover]

Anon: I was wondering if I could request something for Gyutaro, Gaara, Kakashi, Sebastian with a darling who is up front caring, affectionate, and welcoming towards them but as they get really close with their darling it turns out that s/o is actually more of a morbid and just more melancholy kind of person than they thought, and eventually one day when they were stalking s/o a person asks s/o out, s/o rejects the person swiftly and tells the person how they were taught love is a waste of time revealing they have a cynical view of love and relationships?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, abduction, death

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @kanaosprotector

Love is a waste of my time

Hatake Kakashi

📖​Everyone Kakashi has ever loved has died and it is the trauma of the loss of all of his loved ones that has worn him down as his heart is almost afraid to let someone else in again. After all why should he get attached only to have the few shreds of his heart ripped out of his chest again when they die on him? Your open and caring disposition scares him, the allure of it all a temptation that he fears would end in another heartbreak of his. Initially the shinobi avoids you, his fear pushing him away from you. The damage has already been done though as you have managed to worm your way into his heart and mind. Dead faces of people he loved haunt him and in his dreams their faces blur until it is your lifeless face that stares back at him. He doesn't want to lose you. Behind the lazy and lax facade lies a man who is from that day on struck with overprotective paranoia. Stalking becomes a daily occurence as he has probably spent more time watching you than actually being with you. He always tries to make it as casual as possible when he bumps into you though to not rouse your suspicion. Your affectionate nature still overwhelms and flusters him though and you can clearly tell that he isn't used to it.

📖​Every person has another side to them though. Years of living and killing have taught Kakashi that there is always something slumbering beneath the surface. He is familiar with his own monsters and having been a former Anbu, he has been exposed to the dark sides of humanity. Maybe it was foolish to begin with to think that you would be different and that there wouldn't be anything within you that would remind him of that. Kakashi is a realist though who knows that hope is sadly only that and nothing more. You also have another side to you and aren't only the welcoming and kind person he thought you to be, even though a part of him dearly wished you to be. His initial instinct is to pinpoint the source of the problem. Usually there is always a reason for a person to be the way they are after all and if he knows that reason, he can analyse the situation fully and then come up with a solution. Kakashi approaches everything as if he were on a mission for the Anbu as soon as he has discovered that you aren't all that innocent as he thought you to be. There is no time for disappointment though as his mind is instantly fearing that there is a rather traumatic experience behind your other emotions.

📖​Stalking is as natural as breathing for Kakashi and you have yet to sense him. What starts with him plotting threats and murder when he catches someone having the nerve to ask you out, expected as he is quite possessive, ends with the unpleasant discovery of your opinion on love. He feels no relief when you reject the person, he doesn't have the time when you reveal that you see love as a waste of time. Your words sound frighteningly much like his own bitter thoughts he harbored before he met you and even though he is the last person who has the right to tell you otherwise, Kakashi still feels the urge to do so. Now that you have admitted though that you were raised this way, his overprotective antics target the people who taught you to give up on love before you even had a chance to experience it. He sorts them into the category of people who he should keep away from you as he tells you that they are bad influence for you. It is quite a cruel irony that he has opened his heart only to find out that your heart is closed and that you don't want to give him what he desires. He reminds himself though that at least you are still alive and that as long as he can keep you, he will eventually find a way.

Gaara

🐼​If you would have met him a few years earlier when he was still stuck in the darkness, he would have likely been a lot less tolerant and accepting than he is now. For that you are rather lucky to meet Gaara after he has changed his way and now wants to help people as the new Kazekage. People have changed the way they see him, although some still hold a deep-rooted grudge and fear against him as his past has left blood he will never be able to cleanse himself of. You have been from the very beginning very open-hearted and caring though and if the pink blush on his cheeks is anything to judge by, it has definitely affected the Kazekage. Temari and Kankuro are a tad bit more apprehensive as they question your instant kindness and wonder if you have ulterior motives and they even warn Gaara to be careful around you. By that point Gaara is already besotted with you though as his obsession has already gotten out of control. He wants you close to him to bask in the affection you shower him with. The paranoid part of him also would like to keep a constant eye on you as he knows that you might be targeted by people who desire to extract revenge on him. Conflicts will after all never fully disappear.

🐼​The warnings of his siblings and their advice that you may hide something used to be words that Gaara didn't believe, or rather, didn't want to believe. Whilst he appreciated it as he knew that they were worried for him, he was too blinded by his obsession at that time to truly consider their words at that time. Those feelings for you have never faded but it is hard to ignore the new aspects to your personality that he did not spot before. Gaara has tried to brush them off as small coincidences for the first few time but now it has become obvious that you have a rather morbid side to you. It doesn't push him away from you though as he isn't about to be a hypocrite. After all he is utterly convinced that you are in your heart a good person who wants to help others but just has another side to them. Instead discovering that you have a darker side to you that sometimes tends to make you space out and dive deep into your thoughts, motivates him to help you. Just like Naruto helped him to see the light in the darkness, Gaara wants to help you now too. Unknown to you he also gathers more information on your childhood to see if there is something that happened in your childhood.

🐼​His heart sinks when he catches you in the middle of being asked out but his relief when you reject the other person is very short-lived as you immediately after reveal to them your grim view on love to shatter his hopes. Similar to Kakashi though, Gaara can identify some similarities between your current mindset on the topic of love and his younger opinion he used to have on it. And as stupid as it sounds, it is because he sees the similarities that he gets his hopes up that he can help you. After all he was able to let go of the hatred and the cynical ruthlessness in his heart so you should be able to do the same. It unnerves him though that you were raised to think of love in such a way and even though he should know best that not every child grows up in a safe and loved environment, he has always thought that you should never go through anything in your life yet apparently you already did. Safe to say that from that day on you are kept away from the people who taught you to never desire love as he tries to convince you that their presence would only be toxic for you. Gaara treats you as if you are someone that has to be helped and he is rather overbearing with it all.

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛​The mouth may lie and the face may deceive others but the soul always tells the truth. That is why Sebastian knows from the very beginning that there is more to you than the mortal eye is able to see. Your soul is a fascinating mixture of warmth and brightness yet also a cold cynicism. Those are two things that normally do not balance well together yet both of those things reside within your soul as they coexist seamlessly within you. You and your soul are rather intriguing and that is the only reason why Sebastian initially finds himself seeking you out as often as he does. He would like to discover the secret that resides within that soul of you and maybe even claim it as his own after he has fulfilled his contract with the young earl. It is rather impressive though how you hide your darker side so perfectly when he gets to know you and he can't even blame other humans for getting fooled into believing you to be something when in reality that side of yours is only half of what you truly are. As a creature of darkness himself though, Sebastian thrives on such negative feelings that he has used over the centuries of his existence to lure people into his trap that ultimately promised him their souls.

🐈‍⬛​It only takes so long for Sebastian to realise though that there is a thread of fate that binds your soul to his own black one. He can't say that he is unhappy about the discovery that you are his mate though as you have caught his interest from the very first day he sensed your unique soul. Now that he knows though just how special you are, he finds his longing intensifying. As your mate he should know everything about you after all and he wants to as well. He wants to know the darkest secrets you keep within your soul and wants to see every part of you. It all belongs to him after all, your brightness as well as your wickedness. There are cracks and flashes of your dark side as he spends his time with you, moments where he senses the morbid part of your personality stirring up and red eyes make sure to memorise the glimmer in your eyes in those moments or the sneer on your face when you express the other part of you that not everybody knows about. It is captivating and beautiful in a different way than your affectionate and kind side is as he can already feel that this part of you will be a little challenge when you fully reveal it. He enjoys his games though.

🐈‍⬛​The mortal human is definitely going to get punished for their impertinence later on as the demon has little to no tolerance for anyone who dares to claim what is rightfully his. It is your little speech though that steals all of his attention as he finally figures out what he sought to to know about you ever since he caught you. It is a rather interesting way of seeing love, although he has lived long enough to detect the truth in your words. How many fools has he witnessed who destroyed themselves over a fickle feeling your kind calls love when it was but a fleeting pleasure and pastime. It doesn't deter his own confidence though as he knows that his own emotions transcend what your kind is capable of feeling. Love may be rare for his kind but once they find their mate, they stay with them for their entire life as demons intertwine their soul with the one of their beloved. It is a sacred act of intimacy and commitment humans couldn't even fathom. Even if you may think of love as a waste of your time, he will be sure to change your mind eventually. After all you will have all of his eternity to understand that the love of a demon is beyond everything you have ever been taught.

Gyutaro

🟢​Gyutaro has lived his entire life being rejected and feared and it has installed a bitterness into his soul that has convinced him that he will only ever be capable of being the unloved monster. You are supposed to be nothing more than a midnight snack for him simply because you have been aggravating him for a certain while now. Why? Because he can't get you out of his mind. He has been watching you through Daki as you are working in the same house as she is and it is your kindness and affection that you give everyone around you that has been bothering him so much. He doesn't believe that any of your gestures are real. Humans are superficial and pathetic creatures who never do anything out of kindness. He's convinced that you are faking your personality for ulterior motives or that you are just a desperate little thing hoping to be loved by being as nice as you are. As he stands there right in front of you, he's convinced that you'll start screaming and insulting him at any moment, he wants you to so that he can prove his point. Instead he can only recoil in shock when you dodge all of his expectations and greet him politely as if he were anyone else.

🟢Daki and him get into an argument as she blames him for not killing you on that night despite his previous claims that he'd eat you. Despite knowing what he told his sister before he went after you on that night, Gyutaro reacts rather defensive as he tries to come up with an excuse that will hide the true reason why he didn't kill you on that night. He couldn't kill you because you made the poor excuse of a crippled heart inside of him hesitate when you looked at him with eyes that weren't judging him nor giving him the frightened and mortified gaze he had gotten used to because of his looks. Eyes that revealed a new vulnerability that he hadn't known of before and that ultimately had led him to retreat, a growl the last thing you received before he disappeared. Gyutaro has never felt that way before. He never had a problem before to kill humans and as if to hold on to his own convictions, he starts stalking you to prove to himself that everything you are is a farce. Then he can kill you and finally make peace. Yet the longer he watches you, the more he finds himself silently wishing that you won't be like the rest even as he witnesses moments of yours that might prove his theory correct.

🟢Nails dig into his skin and scratch it bloody when someone asks you out whilst he is stalking you, his jealousy agitating him as he silently decides to kill that piecce of shit as soon as he can. That is when you do something unexpected though. You reveal your true face to the person and, even without your knowledge, to the demon as well. So you have been pretending. You have been lying to him, feeding him false hopes. He shouldn't be surprised yet there is an undeniable pain throbbing in his chest, his emotions spinning out of control as the scratching gets worse. For a few dangerous seconds the impulse to leap down and kill both you and the other person burns brightly but it eventually dies down as he feels the tug of hesitation on his heart again. Why? Hasn't he heard with his own ears that you believe love to be a waste of your time? His head knows that but his heart clearly refuses to accept as the obsession that has been building for you still remains and prevents him from killing you. Fine then. Why should he care anyways whether you love him or not? He doesn't need your love. The only thing he cares about is that no one else can have you besides him.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere kakashi #yandere hatake kakashi #yandere gaara #yandere sabaku no gaara #yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere sebastian #yandere sebastian michaelis #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere gyutaro

[ichatake]

do yandere kakashi and Obito reacing to reader replacing Rin when she dies. lets say obito gets saved by minato so he knows why exactly kakashi got Rin killed. So when reader joins the team theyre really mean to her and everything becus they cant believe she tried to replace rin. They become yandere after she heals them (she can have medical ninjutsu?) so they really start to like her

Yandere Kakashi and Yandere Obito with the same S/O

Request open! (Request Rules)

A/N: thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoy!

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

No one can be prepared to lose a close friend, and neither Kaashi or Obito were ready to lose Rin. It had been a dark day for them, Obito had been crushed by a boulder, which Minaro thankfully got there in time to help him. Then Rin sacrificed herself to save them and herself from the wrath of the three tailed beast.

Since Obito was present for most of the situation, he understood that Kakashi never meant to hurt Rin. Their friendship grew stronger as they both grieved the loss of their teammate. Of course, they were shocked when Minato mentioned they’d be joined by a new member. They couldn’t believe it! The audacity of replacing Rin in such a short amount of time was unbelievable.

Your presence was, of course, unwelcomed. You were a replacement, nothing else. You could never replace Rin, so they didn’t bother with you. There was no point. It wasn’t your fault you’d been placed with them, but they couldn’t help but hold it against you.

Kakashi was monotone when it came to you. You could never tell what he was thinking, and that bothered you a lot. When you tried speaking to him, he’d only listen, but never answer. That was the part that scared you the most. He was simply uninterested in being with you. You could waste your time asking him something, but that didn’t mean he’d actually answer you. You’d simply be harshly ignored by him.

Obito was a whole different case. Kakashi, although straight out ignoring you, never blatantly showed you just how much he disliked you, but Obito? This boy was the definition of obvious. He was the most affected by Rin’s passing, in his mind. She was his everything. How could he replace her?

When I say he was mean, I mean it. He yelled at you, scolded you, berated you, and simply treated you outright badly. He was condescending when you failed and you couldn’t get him to like you no matter how hard you tried. He hated you. You believe that wholeheartedly.

Now, you understood everyone grieves differently, but this was too much. You felt unwanted and unwelcomed. Minato had reassured you several times that everything would be fine, and to just give them some time, but you felt horrible! The only person that treated you nicely was your sensei… it was you against them.

When you trained, you were surprised to see how well they worked together. The loss of Rin has managed to mend their friendship, even if she had died at Kakashi's hands. Obito understood that the reason Rin died was not because Kakashi wanted to kill her, but because she’d rather die than live as a weapon for the rest of her life. Obito forgave Kakashi, and they promised each other they would never hold anything against each other, for Rin. They moved at an amazing rhythm; in perfect sync. They knew where to be and what to do without uttering a single word.

Their teamwork was off the charts, and you were slightly jealous. Why? Oh you know, it’s not like they thought you were a burden or anything. Yeah, every time the three of you had to work together, it would always end up in an argument.

“Jeez, are you slow?! Can’t you see I’m supposed to come from the right?!”

“Get out of the way! You’re messing things up!”

If Rin were here, we wouldn’t have to be dealing with all your mess!”

These were just some of the few things Obito would throw at you whenever you messed up their momentum. You were never good enough for them. You were too slow yet too quick. Too dumb, yet too smart. If you had to jump and you’d jump, they’d somehow find a way to let you know that you jumped the ‘wrong way’. You could never be good enough. You could never win.

You tried, you really did, but nothing worked. You’d be blamed for everything, and they’d say you were ‘dragging them down.’ Of course, they would complain to Minato, mostly Obito, but Kakashi would nod his head in agreement from time to time. Minato would scold them or brush them off. “She’s your teammate, like it or not. You better start treating her as one or else you two will be the ones getting in trouble,” this made them resent you even more.

You got used to everything. It had been a few months since you first got there, so you knew how to handle them. You trained so much and watched them train that when you were in the field once again, you didn’t fall behind. You were predicting their moves to be able to move in sync with them. You had studied them—your obsession of being at the same level finally paying off.

You didn’t understand why, but you expected some sort of praise. For once, you hadn’t been insulted or made fun off. You did everything right; you had caught up to them. So, as the three of you huffed and tried to gain your breath, Minato congratulated you. You couldn’t help the big smile that played on your lips, excited that you had finally gotten some praise. However, the boys never muttered a word. For you, it was a win! They weren’t insulting you or angry at you!

Once Minato saw your progress, he decided it was time for the three of you to go out on a mission alone. You, of course, were nervous. You weren’t sure of how things would play out. Would you mess up again? Would you be left behind? Would the mission even be completed? You didn’t know, but you calmed yourself down and convinced yourself that everything would be fine.

Thankfully, you had completed the mission. You only had to go back to the village. Miraculously enough, the three of you hadn’t gotten into an argument, you had yet to mess up, and things were going just great.

However, all three of you found yourselves in trouble. Rogue ninjas were happy to see three hidden leaf kids, and they were planning on sending a message. They had recognized Kakashi as the strongest one, so they wasted no time in getting him first.

Although wearing a mask, the sudden mist that clouded him had knocked him unconscious. No, it wasn’t mist, it was some sort of pollen one of the ninjas had thrown at Kakashi.

Obito had no idea what to do, but you weren’t going to leave Kakashi. There was a big chance that you would get hit by the pollen as well, but your limbs moved on their own. Soon, you were running full speed towards Kakashi’s unconscious body, lifting his weight over your shoulder. You weren’t going to leave him behind, never. No matter how badly he treated you, you would never leave teammates behind.

As you lifted Kakashi, you hadn’t noticed the kunais coming at you at full speed. They would’ve hit you in the head if it weren’t for Obito. He took the hit for you, and it stabbed him in the shoulder. “Let’s go!” He yells, helping you carry Kakashi as you escape.

Once you were far away and clear of any danger, you set Kakashi down on the ground. You check his pulse and sigh, relieved that he was still alive. “He’s still breathing, he’s just unconscious,” you smile, looking at Obito.

Your eyes widen as you see two kunais on his shoulders, “crap! You’re hurt, Obito!” You stand up and walk towards him, “sit down, I’ll help you,” you pull him down, much to his distaste.

“I’m telling you, I’m fine!” He tries to convince you, but you shush him.

“Don’t be an idiot! You’re not fine. I’ll pull them out—it’ll hurt for a little while, but I promise I’ll make you feel better,” you say, pulling out the knives and apologizing as he hissed in pain.

While helping him, you were gentle. He had never expected this from you. He had been nothing but horrible to you, and yet you treated him as if he were fragile.

You place your hands over his wound and close your eyes, focusing your chakra and beginning to heal the open wounds. It felt… familiar to Obito. He felt taken care of—cared for. It reminded him of… Rin. He gulps and looks at you, your eyes gentle and caring.

He couldn’t help how he felt. His heart started beating quickly as he felt you so close. He had never noticed how cute you were—no, he never noticed how nice you were. How kind and beautiful. You reminded him so much of Rin. Could you have been sent by Rin? Were you an angel he had been neglecting this whole time?

“Obito?” You look at him worriedly, “are you okay? You look a little—“

“I’m okay. Thanks to you,” he smiles, rubbing his neck, “I uh… Just, thank you,”

You were taken aback by this, but quickly give him a gentle smile, “you’re welcome. It was the least I could do after you saved my life. You were basically my hero back there,”

His stomach fluttered at your words, “your hero..?” He chuckles, “no, you’re the hero… if it weren’t for you, Kakashi would’ve been attacked… you’re the real hero,”

You enjoyed his praises. After being treated so poorly by him, it was nice to finally see him smile and compliment you. When you finish healing him, you walk towards Kakashi, placing a hand on his forehead. You wanted to make sure he wasn’t getting a fever because of the polen, “We should get going, I want to make sure Kakashi gets treated quickly. Who knows what was in that polen. It must’ve been really thick if it penetrated his mask,” you frown, pushing his hair out of his face.

Obito agrees, taking kakashi over the shoulder and waiting for you, “Hey uh… (Y/N),” he says, locking eyes with you before looking away, “I’m… sorry, for the way I’ve treated you… I real—,”

“It’s okay, Obito. As long as you don’t keep doing it, I forgive you,” you’d didn’t have hatred in your heart, and you knew how to forgive… Oh gosh, you were so much like her. Obito nods, shamefully smiling, “I promise you, I’ll never be dumb again. Well, dumb enough to treat you like I did…,”

Once you got to the village, you took Kakashi to the infirmary. You waited outside for any news with Obito, and you were relieved when the nurses told you he’d be okay. You didn’t get the chance to see him in the hospital, since you already had to go home. You needed rest, and with a little convincing from Obito, he walked you home.

After that day, Obito was so much nicer. He was a completely different person around you. He treated you so nicely, and never insulted you in any way. He complimented you in everything you did and he even offered to train with you more often.

Even kakashi seemed different. He’d actually speak to you, and nicely. He’d look for conversations and would often stay close to you. Their attitudes had taken a complete 180! You were… happy. You were glad that you finally got along. You were working together, and you were never failing. They made sure to make you feel like a part of their team!

Yeah, you were so distracted by how nice they were treating you, that you didn’t notice how they’d keep an eye on you at all times. How they would often want to take you home. How they would hurt themselves just to get you to take care of them. No, you were too busy basking on their kindness.

Whoops, Kakashi suddenly left his water bottle! Wait, maybe you could share yours with him. You know what they say, drinking from the same water bottle was like an indirect kiss.

Oh no! Obito left his food? Huh, I guess there was no harm in sharing your lunch with him. You’d eat from the same chopsticks, and it thrilled him.

For some reason, you had become their favorite obsession. You were their favorite pastime, favorite topic, favorite person. You clouded their minds at all times, and they didn’t know why. Your kindness got to them, and filled their hearts with some wicked obsession.

Yeah… you were stuck with them for who knows how long. If only you knew that they’d become unbearable as they grow older… and their obsession would become even stronger.

I mean, they were going to become men soon, with new desires and fantasies that only you could fulfill, but for now, you simply thought this was an innocent friendship.

#fanfic #naruto #naruto shippuden #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake x you #naruto obito #naruto obito uchiha #naruto fanfiction #obito x reader x kakashi #kakashi x reader x obito #obito x you #obito uchiha x reader #obito headcanons #obito x reader #obito uchiha #yandere #Yandere obito #kakashi x reader #kakashi sensei #kakashi x you #yandere kakashi

[marionluth]

Harley: Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit!

Peter: Did you get that out of your system?

Harley: How can you be so calm right now?”

Peter: What do you expect me to do? We’re in handcuffs! We’re arrested. We can do nothing but wait!

Harley: Dude! You’re freaking Spi…

Peter: Shut up! Are you that unhinged? Nobody knows that, little idiot! And I plan to keep it that way, so shut up!

Harley: But you could…

Peter: No! No, I couldn’t! Because even if it wasn’t a secret, I wouldn’t freaking pull a prison break and become a delinquent to save your ass from Tony!

Harley: Ok, first, you are already a delinquent! You’re in fucking handcuffs, and second… Your ass is on the line too just as much as mine!

Peter: Stop talking, Harley! We wouldn’t be in this damn situation if you listened to me!

Harley: Yeah, well, we wouldn’t have driven that beauty in a street race if I had listened to you! Which, by the way, I don’t have to do! Like ever! I don’t listen to you! I answer to no one!

Peter: * snorting * Yeah, that’s why you’re scared shitless of Tony finding out.

Harley: Oh, fuck off! No matter how hard you try to play the good obedient son, you know just as well as I do that you freaking loved the ride! You wouldn’t even know how good you were in this, hadn’t I made you try. Who would’ve thought! Peter Parker, an illegal street racer. We might have to shave your head to give you some Dom Toretto vibes.

Cop: For the last time, who is your legal guardian or parent?

Peter: Officer, this would go so much faster if you just called my stepfather, who, as I’ve told you a bunch of times already, is Tony Stark

Cop: You expect me to believe that? Huh? Don’t you think this has happened before? Little piece of shits like you coming in here, giving me names to look up and then call and then snickering while whoever I bothered calling curses the everloving shit out of me?

Harley: Everloving shit! That was a good one. I’m gonna be using that, Mr. badge.

Peter: Harley, shut up! We get a phone call, don't we? Let us call Tony ourselves. Harley here has something to tell him!

Harley: Oh, hell no! I’m not talking to Tony about this! No way in hell! Not even if you beat the everloving shit out of me

*pleased smirk for being able to use his new favorite curse word so fast *

Peter: Harley… I’m unbelievably close to beating the everloving shit out of you as it is… So, you’ll shut up and we’ll follow the kind officer, and we’ll call Tony. And you’ll speak to him and tell him where we are and why and that he needs to come get us.

Peter : And even if you don’t and decide to start stalling until the kind officer loses his shit and terminates the call, then I’ll use my phone call. And I’ll let Tony know exactly what happened. There’s no way out of this!

Harley: Sure there is. You’re just not creative enough! That’s the problem with you science guys, you’re not creative enough. Me and Tony, we’re mechanics. We can come up with a million different ways out of any given situation.

Harley: And like you said… Since you’ll end up telling him yourself using your phone call, after I waste mine, why not make the call in the first place and save us all some frustration? How about not being a selfish asshole for once, Peter? For the everloving God?

Peter: Harley, I’ll ask permission from the kind officer to start smacking the shit out of you…

Harley: Nuh uh! The Everloving shit…

Excerpt from my fic: The fast (Peter Parker) The Careless (Harley Keener) and the Furious (Tony Damn Stark)

#fanfiction #irondad and spiderson #humour #mcu fanfiction #peter parker #spiderson #tony stark #iron dad #irondad #harley keener #harley keener and peter parker are bros #Harley is Peter's little annoying brother #but also like too smartass for his own good #LOLed too many times while writing this #playing with peter and harley is so fun

[tremendum]

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Me and the Devil; v

(not my gif)

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previous next series masterlist

word count: 8.7k

summary:  "Paul's breaths are as sharp as yours; both of you like wild, scared beasts being hunted by something you cannot see. Something in the back of your mind tells you that you should not be wasting your anger on each other."

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, v light smut, brief oral (m!receiving), choking, height difference mentioned (paul is taller), more mommy & daddy issues, nothing else i can think of but always lmk if you see anything.

notes: back with another chapter! Paul and r are once again Confused by everything that is happening, and keep going back and forth with each other,, But they're learning to use their words <3 Referendum is nearing closer and things are beginning to happen!:)

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Houses Prepare to Assemble for Landsraad Council

In preparation for next week's Space Trade Referendum, representatives from across the galaxy have begun to prepare their travels. This pivotal meeting, set to take place on the planet of Kaitain, will see the great houses Major and Minor deciding on crucial matters, foremost among them the future of space trading routes.

Along these decisions next week will be the final arraignment in the case of House Bourbon, as well as proposals to establish standardized protocols for resource extraction and deposit of space debris. Expected to be on the agenda is the recent and surprising disruptions in Spice supply, which has forced the Spacing Guild to explore alternative fuel sources in preparation for the increased traffic of intergalactic travel for the Referendum. Nexarite and Petroleum have been suggested by Guild engineers: Though Nexarite proves to have dimensional warping implications if used at lightspeed, petroleum is secondary and similarly less effective. 

Pressure has befallen Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, whose governance over the planet Arrakis holds him with the most power in the Spice trade; While petroleum may serve as a stopgap measure in the absence of spice, its inherent limitations underscore the urgent need for a sustainable long-term solution to the galaxy's energy consumption.

Will there be a decision drawn up at this Referendum, or will the scarcity of spice thrust the market power of these new fuel sources? 

- Collected Galactic News report sent to Duke Leto Atreides, 10191. Caladan. 

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You wake up with a gasp and fly upwards.

The sun is still slumbering - the sky a deep royal blue, castle so silent you can hear the waves crash against the cliffs below. You swallow breaths as they lurch down your throat, fighting off a cold sweat, a haunting; Paul's eyes - the fear, the recognition. Familiar.

You find the pitcher of water that was left for you and down almost half of it straight from the glass, letting it dribble from the sides of your lips as you gulp, the drops sliding over your damp skin and onto your trembling breasts. 

The wall is stagnant under your gaze - there are dried lingonberries that remain on your resting table, harvested fresh for you days ago. You don't know why you asked Hestia to keep them there when she was cleaning. Their sickly scent infiltrates your mind, stomach turning queasy. 

Mindlessly, you blink back the images of Paul's gasp, the blood flowing from his porcelain skin, the gritting of his teeth as he'd slumped against you. 

You're very troubled.

In a moment of weakness, you almost pull your robe on to seek Paul and tell him, but a nervous part of you suspects he may already know what you dreamt. The look in his eyes was so.. familiar; as if... 

You swallow hard. Perhaps you should have just told him. Told him all of it, even if he already knows it - about the breeding programs, about the selective mating, the Kwisatz Haderach; The reason it was so quickly approved for you to become Paul's child-bearer when Feyd-Rautha was no longer an option for you.

Fuzzily, you try to recall the nagging familiarity that his words yesterday had left you with. One of two, he'd said. You chew on your lip until it is raw. 

Guilt swirls in your stomach, but you stay put, sitting still below your bedsheets, staring silently ahead. I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. You repeat the mantra over and over until the sun rises over the cliffs, burning a bright orange and pink haze into the center of your vision. 

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Late in the morning is the Strategy Council - once again struck with a bout of fuzz-brain, you're half-asleep as you walk into the chamber, eyes seeking only one person. There has been nothing on your mind all morning - even when Hestia had entered to find you wide-eyed and spooked, when she had whispered of some castle gossip that you didn't listen to. 

Paul's chair is absent.

Your stomach drops as you slide into your own seat, blinking in surprise at the emptiness across from you. As Duke Leto enters and begins the meeting you try your hardest not to think too much about Paul's absence; Lady Jessica's eyes are on you intermittently, not serving to ease your worries. 

When Duke Leto speaks, the sound cuts through the hushed murmurs of the assembled council members. Your eyes meet his.

"Before we begin our discussion on the Space Trade Referendum, there is a matter of great importance that we must address." He's kind, stern; kind, in a way that makes you look back on your own incompetent, nearly absent father with regret. 

The Duke's gaze softens, "The arraignment of House Bourbon is set for the day after the Space Trade Referendum, and I believe it is imperative that we address it with you accordingly."

You blink in shock; you've all but accepted the fact that you might become a criminal within the next week and would have to beg the Atreides to buy your bail in front of the noble Landsraad Houses- you didn't expect to discuss it, though, and certainly not at a Strategy Council.

You've been ignoring this moment ever since news of the charges against your house and the consecutive assassination of your family had reached your ears; but there's no avoiding it now.

"Of course, sir," you reply, steeling yourself for the difficult conversations that lay ahead. "I'm ready for whatever measures need to be taken."

He nods. "The council and I have discussed it, and I am fully committed to advocating for your house's interests during the arraignment on behalf of House Atreides." He leans forward, "I plan to do everything in my power to convince the other houses to see reason and vote in your favor as well."

Given the political complexities surrounding the case, you raise your brows. "This might put you in a precarious situation, my lord," You start, throat dry. "I appreciate it more than you'd know, but..." You look around at all the faces; all of them but enemies to you weeks ago. All of them, loyal to the end of the House; the House that is claiming you as one of their own, even in the looming presence of what might come. "The Harkonnens are- well, they're powerful - not that House Atreides is not, but-" You flounder under the scrutiny of attention and for the first time, you feel small, embarrassed in front of them all. You're not sure what's gotten into you; gritting your teeth, you realize that Reverend Mother Helen has gotten into your head without even seeing you on her visit. 

"-We understand your concerns," Lady Jessica speaks up. "but you are now a part of our house, and we will protect you." 

You can't help the surge of gratitude washing over you; nodding, you concede. "House Bourbon has long been allies of House Atreides," Gurney Halleck says, his stern eyes meeting yours, "this is a return of the favor." 

"Thank you." You say, voice sounding almost warm for what might be the first time in front of the council, "Your support means more to me than I can express." You wish your mind was less consumed with your visions; perhaps then you'd feel truly appreciative of their gesture. You force a smile onto your face, hoping it comes across less as a grimace. The Duke nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I cannot speak for the other houses," he admits, his tone somber suddenly. "But I fear there may be those who seek to exploit this situation for their own gain."

You expect nothing less, nodding in agreement. The great houses are not in your good graces, and you not in theirs. 

"Whatever the outcome, you have the support of House Atreides behind you." Duke Leto says firmly, eyes meeting yours with unwavering resolve.

As the subject is laid to rest in preparation of the upcoming off-world travel, you try your hardest to listen and absorb the information about the Referendum next week.

You'll be leaving at the end of this week, in only a few days - half of the Duke's council will attend for the Referendum and the conferences, and you must go for your own arraignment. 

Trying as hard as you can, you cast away the turmoil that spins around restlessly in your stomach - staring hard at Paul's absent seat, you can't stop thinking. Even as the meeting continues, you go through the motions and relay your own input with a hollow voice, eyes downcast. 

Pain in his voice, gasps of sharp, labored breathing. 

The glint of Feyd-Rautha's skin behind him as blood spills. 

You need to find Paul. 

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Your luck is struck within minutes of the council's conclusion.

Immediately after the Strategy Council is the first of likely many wedding planning meetings - significantly smaller in party than the Strategy Council, but infinitely more intimidating for you. 

You never got any say in your wedding with Feyd-Rautha; likely why you remained living on Giedi Prime for four cycles and never actually married. He chose rather to train and attend strategy councils about spice and Arrakis or more often concerns on-planet; when he did consider the wedding, he would often disregard your opinions and insist it was only important after you gave him an heir. 

Not that you've ever been keen to marry anyone, but what say does a girl have in such a matter? 

Nevertheless, you are more than relieved to attend, solely because you're sure Paul cannot miss this meeting; if anything, because his parents would chastise him like a petulant child. 

The Duke walks with you back to his own quarters, making conversation politely. You find a surprising comfort within his voice, even if you're still on edge - perhaps because of this, you actually succeed in making him laugh once as you mention your interest in learning to pilot a ship; He himself wanted to be a pilot when he was young, you learn. 

You settle into your seat with a grace you don't quite feel; the room is more intimate: in the Duke's new study, at a round table with five chairs, four of which are occupied within seconds. 

Paul's eyes have been on you since you crossed the threshold - an intent gaze that has you shifting, meeting his stare head on when you settle. He looks similarly spooked but there is an anger that simmers, bubbling low. 

You want to ask where he was this morning; why'd he miss the council, when he'd clearly planned to attend not twelve hours before? 

His own eyes scream at you; clearly, he also wishes to speak with you. You open your lips to say something, anything to him. Your dream - he has to know, he must.

But Duke Leto breaks the silence before you can. "Thank you both for joining us. This is our House Administrative Assistant, she helps us plan events." 

You introduce yourself to the woman; She is kind, very serious but jolly at the same time - you wish you could be more present, but your brain is not willing to cooperate. Perhaps as a defense mechanism - the prospect of planning a wedding is thoroughly uninteresting to you, to be tied inexplicably to Paul; More present than this, your thoughts and opinions are overclouded by the more pertinent threat of war, economic or otherwise, being planned by the very sisterhood you were raised to be a part of. 

They have their hands everywhere, especially in the great houses, and you do not wish to see the roles designed for you and Paul within their plans. 

It is then that you realize the last chair is likely for Lady Jessica, who has foregone this small meeting.

Vaguely, you wonder if the Duke and Paul can tell how unsettling she is to you; it's nothing against her, actually - her loyalty to her house as well as the sisterhood is admirable - but perhaps she reminds you too much of your past. Of your own mother. 

Easily, the coordinator launches into discussion, outlining the initial plans for the wedding; it will be an evening event, with most of the court and family invited - you barely hold in a sardonic laugh at this, looking solemnly at the ground. Shall we invite my father to walk me down the aisle? you think bitterly, recalling how hard his body had hit the sand in that arena, the sickening way his head snapped back. 

You listen as intently as you can, nodding along as she discusses potential venues, guest lists, and ceremonial traditions.

"And now, onto the matter of your family's traditions," the Coordinator says, turning her attention to you; it jolts you from your own thoughts, images of a blood-stained blade, a gasp for breath, brown curls. "We'll be sure to incorporate them into the ceremony as you see fit."

You hesitate, brow furrowing slightly - she does not seem like she's planning on listing them now, so you're unable to pretend you know what to expect; sheepishly, you clasp your hands against the table. "I must admit, I am not as familiar with my house's traditions as Paul is," you confess, casting a glance in Paul's direction. 

His eyes meet yours; tilting his head, his eyes almost chirp, I offered you the book. You glance back, I know. His lips press into a fleeting grin and for a moment, your stomach runs cold as if he'd actually heard you. But he hadn't. 

You can't ignore when the Duke's lips twitch into a subtle smirk of his own; you fight the flush of embarrassment that creeps into your cheeks as he takes in the information, nodding slowly. He mustn't misinterpret your bond with Paul as romantic interest - instead of a keen instinct for survival at all costs.

"Is that right?" He asks his son, who nods curtly, almost indifferent.

Your eyes cast away, wondering when exactly it was that you started to see yourself on Paul's side; was it when he'd offered to share lunch, or when you'd seen those books about your house and homeplanet on his bedside? No, certainly not. Those are much too trivial; while charming, you know better than to trust a man on such frivolities.

Perhaps, more likely, yesterday - when he'd told you of the Bene Gesserit plans, of the visit - when you'd told him about his own mother. Or, the dreams.

While no amount of sexual fantasies could genuinely sway your opinion on an enemy (the Bene Gesserit in you has seen to it that sexual manipulation can only go one way), the other parts - the more unpleasant ones...  

You're rather restless.  - after the dream last night, you're not sure who to trust, or if you should tell the Duke; Paul may be the only one you can trust with this information, regretfully.  

"Whatever rituals you deem fit will be incorporated into the ceremony. We're planning for it to take place in a month, just before the end of the galactic year." Leto says, watching you for your response. "Perhaps you two can review them and work with our coordinators after you've decided what seems right." 

Paul nods dutifully, eyes flickering to you.

Your stare is intent, wishing to convey the urgency you feel to end this foolish meeting and get somewhere private, not caring one single bit about any rituals or ceremonies. It's all means to one end, isn't it? 

"Do you still have the book on Bourbon Customs, Paul?" You ask, voice just as emotionless as usual; it feels as odd as it sounds to discuss something that might normally excite a wife with the tone of such boredom, but you truly have way more important things to be talking about. You hope he can read between the lines you so delicately convey. 

"Yes." He affirms, perceptive and intelligent as always; sitting up, he starts to address his father and the coordinator, "Perhaps we can meet after the Referendum to further discuss the wedding - in the meantime, Lady Bourbon and I will discuss which of our house traditions we'd like to perform at the wedding." 

You let out a microscopic breath of relief at the pleased look on the Duke's face; he dismisses the small meeting, but Paul is rushing out of the room quicker than you can even stand. 

With as much effort as you can harbor, you exchange short pleasantries with the woman beside you and the Duke before rising to follow after Paul briskly, trying not to be too obvious. 

Within the dim hallway that leads to Paul's quarters, his cloth tunic looks nearly gray.

"Paul." You call, your shoes clacking on the stone as you try to catch up with his stride; pausing slightly, he allows you to catch up to him. Your name is breathed gently, his voice sharp with importance as he pulls you with him towards his room. 

You stumble to catch up with him, caught off-guard by the fearful, angry energy that radiates from him. He is calculating, quiet; this has not changed, but there is a heat in his sharp glare that alarms you. 

"It was you." His voice is quick, whirling around on you - for a moment, there is a darkness in his eyes you haven't seen. He doesn't have to elaborate for you to swallow, staring up at him.

"Yes." You affirm, "And you..." 

He nods so microscopically; your heart flips. It's silent, heavy with the realization in his silent bedchamber.

"It was normal, at first." He starts, shaking his head smally, "but then... suddenly we were standing there and- I felt it." He mutters, watching you intently. His jaw clenches. 

"I know it was you. You used this." He rips away your robes from your left hip and it slides from your shoulders; affronted, your hand comes to halt his wrist, snapping him away. He expects to see the same engraved hilt - you see it in his eyes - but, where there is usually the black leather of your nameday knife, today there is just your waistline.

He stares down, eyes cold. 

You couldn't bare to take it with you this morning when you left; you could barely stand to look at it as Hestia had dressed you.

His eyes rove over your figure slowly, as if expecting to find your blade snugly hidden in some curve of your skin; no avail, as he reaches your own strict gaze. There is heat in your abdomen, but you ignore it for the fear in your veins. 

He dreamt that you stabbed him. He didn't see Feyd at all. 

"I didn't..." You shake your head, "I didn't stab you." You insist. He looks off towards the wall above your head, sighing sharply, "You did in my dream." 

"-No." You argue, "He was behind you," Your voice is a hushed whisper, so close to him you can almost feel the warmth that radiates; there is a fuzzy electricity in the room that makes your fingers itch as you release the grip on his cotton-bound wrist, pushing his grip away from you. His hand flies back like it'd been burned by your touch, anger seeping through his lashes. 

"Feyd-Rautha." You clarify, your own jaw setting, "He was there, holding my knife." 

Paul's brows furrow. "You stabbed me. I felt you, with me. You were there." He insists, shaking his head. You swallow thickly, "I know I was there. You aren't listening to me."

"Why should I?" He snaps, staring at you with distrust, "If Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was there, why didn't I see him?"  

"I-" You tug at your hair in exasperation, "Fuck, Paul, I don't know." you hiss. 

Such implications strike your heart with dread; and if your dreams with Paul are inexplicably intertwined, a beat of fright hits you - for once in your life, you wish beyond your world that Feyd-Rautha has been finding seamless, dreamless sleep recently. 

You are dimly aware of the slight chill upon your bare shoulders; the tank-top you've donned, cotton like Paul's, is breezy without your robes to cover your exposed skin, and the material pools lazily around your bent elbows from where Paul had disrobed you, searching for your dagger. 

"We can't risk telling my mother," he murmurs, his tone laced with urgency, "If she learns of our dreams, she'll never let us pursue Sabberon if the Harkonnens take it."

Begrudgingly, your fears are mirrored in his words and you run your hand over your face, "So we just hope she can see through our lies? Paul, you know just as well as I that it is a near impossible feat." 

Paul hesitates- there is a shadow in his eyes, a dark looming thought you wish to unearth. "She'll stop at nothing if it means going against the Bene Gesserit's plans for us. We just- we don't know which path that is."

Your voice is steely with resolve, "I won't let them dictate my future." Not when the rest of the galaxy is going to do so next week. 

Before Paul can respond, the distant sound of footsteps echo down the hallways outside and he guides you slowly backwards, away from the hall. Near the bedpost in his room, he stops and leans to whisper closer to you; his curls hang unruly in front of his eyes, not styled like it typically is. He looks slightly rumpled, as if poor sleep has rendered him consumed by thoughts. 

His eyes flicker to the bedstand and back down to your eyes, "I think you need to let my mother train you." 

You blink, inhaling sharply, "You don't know what you're saying." 

Somewhere in you, you know he's right. He sends you a look, "I do, and you know it. Even if we can't lie to her, we need to stay sharp. Maybe we can find out what the Sisterhood wants from these dreams, because they're clearly important to them. We have to be prepared for whatever happens." 

You lift a brow, "And if nothing happens?" 

"You believe this all to be in our heads?" He asks, eyes genuine; a plead, a small hope that perhaps all this danger and concern is for nothing.

Your sharp sigh is answer enough.

He continues. "You wouldn't have brought up the Harkonnen petroleum reserves for nothing. Or the materials on Sabberon. This threat is real, and even if it isn't, our dreams are." He insists this, and you cross your arms. 

"You sound like your mother." You snap. "She believes everything Reverend Mother Helen Gaius Mohaim says." 

He stares at you incredulously, "You were in my dream, were you not?" His voice is stern and it sets your teeth on edge. "Unless we unknowingly consumed Spice last night, I think that was pretty real." 

You are not a fan of the sardonic tone he takes - he's right, but it does not soothe your concern. Paul has been raised to become a Bene Gesserit by his mother - a male Bene Gesserit? The only reason for that lingers in the back of your mind; perhaps if you continue your learnings, you could remember. A phrase whispers to you, but you do not know what it means. The Shortening of the Way. 

You briefly entertain the thought that Lady Jessica has slipped something into your morning teas - some Spice-laden elixir that makes you and Paul dream together - but this is a childish thought, an escape from the harsh reality of destiny and fate. You know these things to be true, because you know it was woven into your DNA centuries ago. 

"I think this is a bad idea." You say honestly, relieved to have the freedom to argue with your husband-to-be without the real threat of having a throat slit or tongue removed. "Why should I trust your judgement?" 

He huffs smally, "Why should I trust yours? You try to kill me in half of my dreams." 

You glare sharply, "Well I haven't killed you yet, have I?" You snap, growling at him.  

His glare is sharp, hostile. "I know my house better than anybody, and I know my mother just as well." He says, "You and I will train with her together. We need to find their plans out ourselves, and this is the only way. We will just ensure Reverend Mother Helen Gaius Mohaim is none the wiser." 

"You are a fool if you think she will not catch on." You insist.

His jaw sets. "I have trained my whole life to make decisions like this."

"And yet, you make the wrong one."

"Watch your mouth." His voice is ominously quiet, taking a step into your personal space. "I will be your Duke one day." His chin tilts, ever prideful; you scoff. Defensively, you bristle. 

"-and I will be your duchess. That means but little to me, my lord." You retort, leaning towards him; You're close enough to smell the soap on his skin again, the anger, the fear that radiates in beats of his heart. "I did not ask to be here, if you recall." 

Even a sneer looks somewhat graceful on his face. "That means but little to me." He parrots back, eyes sharp, "You're here, so you will do what I say." 

Fury rages in you; his voice is deep, more commanding than you've heard yet - your jaw clenches, not backing away even with him towering over you. 

You're mine to keep. There's plenty of life left for you to serve - the voice in your mind warps, though, the ever-haunting rumble of Feyd's voice morphing into Paul's smooth, low one - fear and resistance sprout within you. 

It's an impulse, a trauma response. You barely think. Your hand moves, palm open flat - aiming to strike him on the cheek, to slap him hard. 

But to your shock, he catches it with reflexes quicker than you can imagine, fingers wrapping around your wrist just before it makes contact with his skin.

Eyes angry, his nostrils flare and the chimes that hang near his bedroom window tinkle gently as energy slips around you. His lips move before you feel the Voice. 

"Don't." 

The Voice sets your spine straight and your teeth on edge - still considerably weak in the skill, his command is combatted by your urge to drop your wrist as you stare at him, beyond bewildered. 

He told you yesterday that he's been trained by his mother - until now, you haven't really considered what this means - he possesses the skills to use the Voice. He is keenly intelligent and, by your suspicion, being trained by Thufir Hawat in more than just tutelage, but also as a Mentat; an unlocked secret tries to worm its way from the back of your mind. 

Your spine shivers. A phrase whispers in the back of your brain, a fear long-nestled and roused awake after years of hibernation: Kwisatz Haderach. The Shortening of the Way. 

You shake yourself of the sudden trance, trying to wrench your hand away but failing by his surprising strength and grip on your wrist. You know you should tell him but you're too presently angry, too absorbed in your own fear and pride. 

Using your free hand not caged by his hold, you shove hard against his chest, until he hits the wall with his spine and skull; wincing, his grip on you only tightens as you fight to free your hand. You glare at him, on your tip toes as you hold your palm flat against his heaving chest, feeling his heart thud against his sternum. 

"No man holds power over me." You say, pressing harder, wrestling your wrist away from him to no avail; he maintains a firm, furious grip on you, his eyes sharp, watching you. "You are no different." 

His breaths are as sharp as yours; both of you like wild, scared beasts being hunted by something you cannot see. Neither of you are truly trying to fight: Tired of running but knowing you've just started. Something in the back of your mind tells you that you should not be wasting your anger on each other. 

His eyes still have that sinister stare; serious, calculating. 

"It should not be a man you worry about." He whispers, head tilting down to you. His features are dark even in the light of day; "Despite what we feel about them, the Bene Gesserit give us power." His grip is tight; guiding with his heart, defiance in his eyes. Your lips part, arm relieving the pressure against his chest, still making sure he doesn't move otherwise. 

His brows furrow, jaw set. "You should be accustomed to living with the enemy, anyways." 

It's a slight against you; you grit your teeth - he's right, though. The Bene Gesserit is not an enemy, per se -both of you know this, but the sisterhood is dangerous, and if you aren't careful, this whole thing might completely backfire. 

There's a moment of silence as you consider his words, the weight of your situation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket; Paul is right - you can't just go blindly and without training that can help you in the future, no matter how fiercely independent you both may be.

You almost relent, but in the silence your arm drops and Paul's - still holding your wrist tight - follows until he holds your arm stiffly between you. In the tense silence, your other arm slides off of his chest slowly, your eyes flickering to where his hand still holds your wrist; as if genuinely concerned you might unsheathe a hidden blade and plunge it into his stomach in the blink of an eye. 

"Paul?" 

The voice belonging to neither of you makes you jump in shock; Paul similarly jolts, both of your heads snapping to the entryway where Lady Jessica enters, a servant hovering nervously behind her with a laundry basket in her hands. 

"-I'd like to speak with you about-" 

Her words trail off as her eyes flicker towards the two of you; your face burns, jumping away from Paul as he drops your wrist like a dead stone, jumping from the wall. 

Your stomach flips in fear. How much did she hear? 

Paul glances at you sharply, your heart pounding; it was as if she knew that you were speaking of her and the Bene Gesserit. Had she heard anything? How silent was she when she arrived in his quarters? 

She averts her eyes at the sight of the two of you so close - at short glance, possibly appearing as if in some kind of embrace - but unfortunately her gaze lands on the bed right beside you; there is a faint blush coloring her cheeks. 

You share the fleeting glance with Paul, a silent understanding passing between you; Despite the true nature of your conversation, the proximity of the bed and the... intensity of how close the two of you could be easily misconstrued as something far more intimate.

Which might actually play in your favor. 

She presses her lips into a thin line, "-Apologies. I didn't realize-" 

Paul clears his throat, shaking his head. "No, Mother, you're not interrupting anything," Paul assures her quickly as he moves away from the bed; another quick glance at you once again shows his fear of being caught talking about her.

You wipe sweaty palms on your trousers, hoping she can't see your hands shake; The embarrassment of her and the servant thinking you were becoming intimate is better than her becoming suspicious of your whispers and secrecy. You're nearly shaking with fear at the prospect of her overhearing your plot. 

Thankfully Paul holds the same thought. 

"We were just... discussing some matters of importance." He utters, clearing his throat as he reaches to adjust the robe of yours he'd knocked askew minutes before. You play the part just as well as he does. Smiling sheepishly, you pull your robe tight around your frame and duck your head. 

Lady Jessica nods, eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, I was just hoping to chat with you while you walk to your weapons lesson, Paul," she said, her tone even, "I didn't realize you had company, my apologies. I'll leave you to it."

"-no, please," You interrupt as she turns; she stops, turning back to the two of you. You flash what you hope is a convincingly kind smile, pulling further away from where you stand next to Paul. "I was just leaving." You insist. Your heart beats hard in your throat still, but you turn to place your hands on Paul's shoulders. He stares at you, shocked as you lean towards him. If it were a different situation, you might've chuckled at the alarm in his eyes as you near him with your lips. 

Your breath hits his cheek as his head cranes down slightly to meet you, sensing what you're trying to do under the awkward attention of the others in the room. "Find me later." You whisper, barely more than a breath, against his cheek. His curls tickle your lips gently.

Playing the part you peck his skin slightly over the sharp cheekbone, eyes flicking over his shoulder to see his mother avert her gaze politely. You hope, to the servant and Lady Jessica, that it looks like you're bidding him a good day - a flushed, embarrassed lover caught in an act of passion and taking her leave. 

How simple life would be if that were the case. 

When you pull back from him fully, his cheeks are a dusted rose color - a good actor, then. He nods tersely, watching as you spin on your heels and bow to Lady Jessica, smiling at the servant slightly as you slide past them, hurrying down the hall towards your freedom. 

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Paul does find you later, in the afternoon when the sun is hidden by misty clouds.

Out in the gardens of Castle Caladan, the season is ending with the year and the plants that bloom are resilient to the less rainy months that come. Your feet are bare, your dress long as you stroll, unaware of his presence. 

Odd to see you so relaxed - your hands smooth over stone figures within the garden; he walks up behind you silently, murmuring your name when he's close. 

You jump slightly, acting fast; pressing with your full force, he's caught off-guard and shoved against the hedges which line the area. Catching his footing, his hands stop you - one on your hip, the other around your shoulder. His thumb dips against the hollow of your throat. 

There is a misty rain that falls lazily from the clouds in the sky; serene, quiet. Your breaths intermingle, your hands against Paul's chest. "I dreamt of you this afternoon." You say, voice faint. He hums, tilting his head at the fuzzy feeling. "Did you?" He asks; his voice is far away. You nod, leaning towards him like you'd done earlier - you brush his own lips instead of his cheek, and he feels far away. 

"I dreamt of you in a large throne room..." You whisper, lips just barely brushing over his, your hands roving over his chest. His own squeeze you; the one around your shoulder slides to hold your neck, the one around your hip holding you close. "One I've never seen before." 

Your lips ghost over his neck then, head tilting back to the misty skies. "There was spice in the sand that tracked in through the entrance..." You whisper, biting at his skin; he feels like he's floating. His hand squeezes the softness of your throat. 

"You sat on the throne atop the stairs," You whisper, suddenly sinking lower - your hands tug his belt, now on your knees before him. He does not fight the arousal that swirls within him, instead letting one hand gather your hair from your face. Your eyes are bright - for a moment, they're glowing a blue he's never seen, but you blink and it's gone in a hazy fog. He cannot seem to make out many features of your face, even as he blinks. It feels as if he'd swallowed cotton. 

"-and I, between your thighs." You whisper, lips moving to mouth over his trousers; he lets out a groan, growing more hard by your touch - his hand squeezes and he's not sure if it's against your throat or your hair; you let out a mewl either way and it floods him with desire. You've never made a noise like that before, and he would quite like to hear you make it again. 

Throne room? He starts to say - he is not so vain as to ever desire a throne to sit on - but the feeling of your warm mouth around his cock has him groaning, forgetting his words as he gasps-

Paul wakes up, sitting straight up -drenched in a cold sweat from the breeze that flows coolly through the open window. His chest heaves as he blinks at the wall ahead, disoriented and thoroughly discomfited. 

"Shit," He whispers to himself, head falling back against his pillow.

He can hear the misting beginnings of rain - he must have slept for a few hours, because the sky was clear when he returned from his lesson with Thufir Hawat, intending to lie for just a minute. 

The sun is hiding near the ocean; he must have missed supper. 

Groaning, he forces himself up and into the shower, where he stares ahead at the wall silently and lets the ice-cold water soak through his skin. 

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When he finally drags himself out into the castle, he has no luck tracking you down - done with lessons, you're likely in the dining hall or in your own room eating supper. 

He checks your quarters first.

Walking in hesitantly, he calls your name and casts his gaze to the ground, wary of what he might catch glimpse of should he burst in unexpected. 

"Paul?" A voice calls, but as he crosses the threshold into the room, he sees it is not you, but another familiar face. 

"Oh, hello." He says, nodding as Hestia stands near your dining table - packing up the remnants of dinner. He eyes the two sets of silverware and dishes, noticing a crumb on the corner of Hestia's cheek; You've been taking your meals with her nearly every day since you arrived here. "Have you seen her?" He asks, trying to remain formal. 

"Who?" 

He gives her an unimpressed look; she rolls her eyes with a sigh. She's surprised to see him, he can tell. It shows on her face. "She just left for the gardens," Hestia says, crossing her arms suspiciously. "Why do you ask?" 

His head tilts at her, "Is it odd for me to wonder where my betrothed is?" 

She gives him that look - the all-knowing one, the one that makes him wonder if they really are siblings. She knows him much too well. "Yes, it is odd, Paul." She's blunt; she'd never dare speak like this to him in front of members of the House court, but in their own time or with his parents, Paul insists they're equals. 

"I didn't even know you talked to each other." she snarks, lifting one brow.

Normally he might entertain her teasing, but his mood is quite sour on the subject of you and he'd rather not hear more chastising about your strained relationship with each other.

He shakes his head, turning to head towards the gardens.

"You should watch your tongue, Hestia." He says half-heartedly. He ignores her laugh as he leaves, walking quickly to find you. 

It doesn't hit him until he's in the garden, walking down a path that feels oddly familiar: It's just like his dream. 

Cheeks heating, he rolls his eyes; Coincidences won't kill me, he thinks, but you might. 

When he sees your figure, he's extremely relieved to see you completely bundled from head to toe and sitting on a bench, looking up at the darkening sky, squinting in the mist. When he's still a safe distance away, he calls your name. 

"Paul." You say curtly when your gaze finds him. You pat next to you - a surprisingly child-like action as you scoot yourself slightly. "Sit." 

He does. It's silent for a moment, in which the wind blows his curls around just as it does yours; it's evening, and this late in the year it is already growing dark. 

"I told your mother I'd like to train with her." You say, staring up at the sky again. "I don't think she heard what we were saying earlier." 

His shoulders relax at this; fear had shot through him at the prospect of his mother discovering the reason behind your sudden willingness to cooperate.

"She seemed pleased with me. She suggested we start after the Referendum." 

Paul expected his mother would suggest this; With only a few days until several members of their House leave for the Referendum and your arraignment, there'd be no real time to start again until after. He knows better than to say I told you so, but he wishes to. 

The thought of your arraignment has him turning to look at you, noting how your eyes look against the green of the grass, the dark of the sky, the soft light from the castle. 

"How do you feel about it?" 

You do that odd exhale from your nose again, shaking your head, "You must know how I feel about the Bene Gesserit by now, Paul." 

"No," He starts, tilting his head to look sidelong at you, "the arraignment." 

Your face changes, but you say nothing. He takes a breath. "The Baron is a cruel man." Paul starts, "You know we will do everything we can to make sure he does not sway the opinions of the other Houses." 

To his surprise, your lips morph into a soft smile; a rare one, very uncharacteristic of such a cold, strong woman; it doesn't make you seem any less fierce, though. "You're so much like your father." You say, voice shockingly reflective. He doesn't know why you choose to say it. A moment of hesitation before you speak again, surprising him with your words. "You're going to be a good Duke." 

Praise does not seem to come easy from you, nor does it from him; He lets himself be vulnerable for a moment and admits to himself that it is a good thing you are so headstrong and sharp-tongued. To keep him in check. He knows your argument earlier this morning was too far; both of you were anxious, stressed - truthfully, he's glad you are willing to push back. 

"And you'll be a good Duchess." 

In the quiet of the garden, not daring to meet each other's eyes, you huff a short laugh of doubt. He doesn't bother arguing with you about it. 

"I know House Bourbon doesn't have any real power over Sabberon anymore, but it is still by decree under my family's sovereignty." You say; he nods as he stares off into the hedges across the way. "-when I lose it officially next week, it cannot go to the Harkonnens." Your voice is hollow. "They are unfathomably evil." 

He knows - but, he realizes as your finger traces over a scar fading on your hand, he doesn't know like you do. He's seen that knife now in person and in dreams; he's studied enough to know the kind of ritual one must go through to get one. A nameday knife for a future bride of House Harkonnen - because that's what you were going to be, once upon a time. He's read about it, and it is not pleasant.

For a moment, he remembers you when you'd arrived on Caladan; teeth sharp and voice distrusting, a woman ready to lash out at any moment. A beast, you'd wanted everyone to think. 

You're not a beast. 

Confusing, dangerous, foreboding- sure. But you're just a girl, as he is just a boy; thrust into the hands of the powers way above your heads. There is real fear in your eyes when you speak of the potential for Harkonnens to gain power over the trading markets; real fear when you confess your dreams to him - real anger when he'd accused you of stabbing him; Real breath from your lips, upon his ear when you'd kissed his cheek earlier. Yesterday, real tease when you'd poked fun at his bedside reading choices. You are real, and you are stubbornly human. 

Giedi Prime had forced you to build layers and layers of walls around yourself; it's still quite disarming to see glimpses of the woman inside. 

"My mother's half-sister is Lady Ginaz." You say; both of you know that he knows this, but you say it anyways, fingers picking at the concrete under you. "She's sent me letters again. They were destroyed before I could read them on Giedi Prime." 

He lets you speak, listening intently. House Ginaz; another old ally of House Atreides. 

"I think... if we end up needing anything, like more fighters," You lick your lips. More fighters- the prospect is indeed chilling; House Atreides has great legions of soldiers, but you're right. If they war against House Harkonnen, it'll take everything they can find to maintain power. 

"-I could try to convince her to send all of the Swordmasters." You whisper, sighing. A beat, then you quirk your lip up so fast Paul wonders if he imagined it. "We'll have to invite her to the wedding, of course." 

Your humor is dry and hollow, but it still makes Paul crack a wry huff. "Looking forward to giving input into every aspect of the event?" He asks, feeling a freedom to poke at your shared misery - it's the least of your worries, and it's not so bad if you're in it together. 

Your smile shows nice teeth, full lips. "It's a good thing our house colors are both green." You hum, turning to him, "No decisions to make there, at least." 

He nods, "More time to decide what kind of ribbon to use for the handfasting." 

You look off towards the same hedge across the way that he finds so interesting. "Whose tradition is that, mine or yours?" You ask. He blinks away a raindrop as it slides onto his eyelashes. 

"Yours." He affirms. You nod thoughtfully, and Paul is plagued with the visions of you below him, looking up with those wide, big eyes - just across the garden to the right. He blinks away the thought. 

"I thought you were Bene Gesserit when you came to Caladan," He says, "And I knew what kind of power you could hold over me if you were." 

You look at him, a fire in your gaze. "And you're not afraid of that same power your mother holds over you?" You retort. He sighs; both of you, quick to irritate. 

"She loves me. She'll try hard to protect me, and if she knows that we dream of death, she will not let us go to Sabberon." He says. "You don't love me. If you were Bene Gesserit, and knew what path the sisterhood intended for me - for us - you wouldn't hesitate to encourage it." He admits, and feels no particular heartbreak at the concept; you barely know each other. You look similarly unaffected. 

"I don't know the path." You sigh, "But I suppose I'll be Bene Gesserit again soon." You mutter, voice imbued with regret. 

The air is chilly, and a short breeze moves a curl into his eye. He brushes it away. "I know you don't think we're doing the right thing by training with her." Paul says, unable to ignore his thoughts on the subject. "But what would you have us do instead?" 

You sigh, shaking your head. "I don't know." He watches you, how your hair - unstyled, natural- glints under the night, moving with the breeze. "But it feels like we're walking straight into a trap."

Paul's brows knit together in frustration, his jaw clenched tightly. "We don't have a choice."

"I understand that," you reply, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't have to keep saying it. But how do we know what to do if we don't even know the Reverend Mother's plans? At what point do we start causing harm just because it's what we think we're supposed to do?"

 He shakes his head, head aching. He wishes to sleep; To wake up to find it was all a hallucination - to roll over in bed, and find none of this happened at all. "All we can do is play our hand and hope to come out on top." He says stiffly. 

You are bitter, crossing your arms. "That's easy for you to say," your voice is eerily calm. "It's all means to your end. You shouldn't know anything of the Sisterhood, but you've been taught. You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

The accusation hangs heavy in the air between you, a silent condemnation of Paul's privileged upbringing and the stark contrast it poses to your own struggles; he knows how hard you've had it - but at the end of the day, you are still a Lady, a highborn member of society, marrying into one of the most powerful houses.

He does not know why his mother has tried to train him in ways that only sacred Sisters should know; For a moment, he wonders if you know more about his own destiny and that overhanging prophecy than you let on. One of two candidates, a voice whispers in his mind; You have more than one birthright, boy. 

The air is significantly more tense, irritated - angry. He doesn't care to continue this discussion anymore.

"I don't know why you pretend to know anything about me," his own voice is sullen, sharp. It's foolish for him to waste his time trying to convince you that what he says is right - if, in the end, you might betray him anyways, going in circles is getting him nowhere. 

"Me neither." Your voice is cold. 

There is nothing left to say; in three days, his House will leave for the Space Trade Referendum, and you will be representing your House for the final arraignment.

Paul wants to sleep - to sleep, and not dream. 

He leaves you in the gardens, surrounded in the dark. 

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That night, when Paul dreams of you once again, below the great Pine that burns and cracks above his head, there is a hiss that blows in the wind. When you keen against his hands, your chest trembling and hands on his shoulders, there is a whisper, something that you cannot hear. 

A sense of duty surrounds him as images of the planet he's never visited flash before him. A knife, glinting - a hand, pale, curling around the hilt - your own sharp gasp of pain.

Some whisper in the dredges of his vision, you are too deep in the throes of passion to stir at the sound; Paul hears it clearly, though it is not meant for him. 

It is a deeply eerie voice - playful, sinister.

"I will never let them keep what is mine, my pet." 

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follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

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#dune fanfiction #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #feyd x reader #dune part two #dune movie #dune #paul atreides

[prettyboykatsuki]

UM pleek advice i’m turning twenty soon nd i’m scared 🥹💔 ageism eating me alive i feel like i havent lived my teen years because Brown Parents just idk… IDK!!!! im over reacting i think but im crying everyday like my youth was stolen from me cuz abuse and insecurity and pandemic but idk what to do now i feel so lost and seeing ur posts u just seem so smart and excited about life and exploring urself so i come humbly for advice 😞

i know this feeling bc i have the same parents but like i really mean it when i say life doesn't start for a lot of people until they're 25-30+

i was blessed with older siblings and cousins in my life and pretty much all of them say the same thing. my cousins did all the fun teenager things and even so they're all so much happier now then they ever were before.

you're never gonna be 15 again, that's true. but the life you imagined or dreamed of living at 15 isn't the only life you'll ever live and really isn't even that important. you have a romantic idea of it because you never experienced it.

but you have the rest of your life. do you know how long that is? you're only 20. that's nothing. 25 is nothing. 30, 31, 32. you're just starting in comparison to the rest of your life. the only reason you feel that way is because you're suffocated and the idea that being young is everything but it simply isn't. statistically if you only live to be 60, you have 2 entire thirds left to exist.

don't listen to people on the internet who can't fathom being over 17. adulthood is only a curse if you glorify being young. and you're not even an adult. any real adult thinks you're a kid. the only person who thinks your old is a person who's sitting in calculus one who eats lunch at 10am. why are you listening to them anyway?

i don't especially like being young honestly. there's nothing i look forward to more than getting older every year. i want to be 50 with a garden. i want to spend the rest of my life being a good person. i am so comforted by the fact i still have all this time.

you are so lucky to be alive. you must believe that the time you have left is a gift.

being young is only easy for those who come from privilege. but any person with responsibilities knows how suffocatingly lonely it can be trying to care for yourself and make something of your life.

and it's because of that gradual reality that you have to believe life hasn't reached it's potential. that this isn't your limit. if you're incessantly thinking that you've wasted so much time, than how will you grow? if you're constantly chasing at teenage years that you'll never get again, how will you learn to love the fully realized version of yourself?

if you spend your 20's looking back how can you look forward to the rest of your life? is it fair to yourself to ignore all that's made you who you are, just because you missed out on certain experiences?

look at how far you've come. look at how much it's taken you. look at all this life you have left to keep pushing. i know it feels like you're meandering, but the virtue of living is gaining experience. every minute you engage the world is meaningful to your life and this isn't a hope thing but a universal truth. it is the only facet of existence that has been respected since the beginning of civilization. experience that you can only gain now by opening your eyes to whats around you.

life is hard now. you are going to do your best. and maybe your best is ugly. it never feels good enough. it's not as good as what other people do. but it's yours, so solely. and if all you ever do is worry about the life you haven't lived instead of cherishing the life you have, you're going to feel miserable and you don't have to feel that.

you'll never be 15 again not once. you'll never know what that's like and it sucks. i won't tell you to feel fine about what you might've missed because i know and i get it.

but maybe you only want to be 15 because you think it would've changed who you are now. maybe you think the you now isn't good enough.

but you are. and it is. and there's nothing to be afraid of. every day of living despite it's many solitudes is worth it. even the worst of your tomorrows are to be cherished. you are so young. a drop in the massive of sea.

but that means you can go anywhere and do anything. with time, with patience, with struggle, with tears. you have now and tomorrow. between then nothing will change. you will do it a thousand times, and then you will look back and suddenly be so different. this is your finicky existence.

the only way to not be afraid of getting older is believing with your heart that living is meaningful. count your blessings and celebrate your small joys. you have the rest of your life to do that. i think that alone is something worth celebrating.

#return to sender #i think about my past a lot #i suffered a lot #i will never gain those years back #but it's because of that i can wake up and say #im okay. im alright. there's still time #i struggle because i have to do much on my own #i cry a lot. i get sad. i feel miserable #im a human with ups and downs just like you #ill do it again tommorrow #with time i can say look at all the life ive lived #and i want that #i want to look back at myself when im much older and think #look at the poor girl. she didn't know what was ahead and she suffered so much #she went through so much for me. to be here #sometimes you're your own big sister #make yourself proud and hold your hand #live your life slowly and steadily #there's nothing to be scared of and there's nothing wasted #not a single moment you've lived was a waste. not one #you have all this time to be the version of yourself you look up to #your whole entire life to that #i think that's exciting #and i want that more than anything #so i live everday and do it little by little #and i fuck up and make mistakes but i always know there's tommorow and that makes me so happy #sorry this wasn't advice as much as it was me shaking you by the shoulders #but im really passionate because i hate seeing people my age talk with one foot out the door #it's miserable to think you've wasted your life when you haven't at all #don't be an active particpant in your misery

[quirkle2]

Hi!!! zombie au question, what's the scene where Mob snarls at Ritsu? Like what was the reason and what happened?

helloooo!!!! gives u a cool rock

he does it from hunger. it's the dead of winter where it's rly hard to traverse on foot, so they haven't been able to search as many places as they typically do. they're low on food and in a bad spot rn—practically in the middle of nowhere, on some country road, and even any food they could find in the woods is dead

all three of them are definitely starving by now, and they need food desperately. it's Very cold and while they have good coats to get them through most of it, it's reaching very dangerous temps. trudging through several feet of snow while you're shaky and tired and ur stomach feels like its eating itself,, it takes So much energy from u

tome Finally finds a couple bags of chips or smth somebody left behind at some gas station, so they settle in for the night there. ritsu hands mob a bag and he starts tearing at it, and remembering that he should open it for him first, he reaches over and says "oh sorry shige lemme—"

and mob rips the bag away and snarls. it's very loud and it's very sudden and ritsu jerks away from him and presses himself against the wall on instinct. there's genuine aggression to it and it's a real actual warning to not take his food away even for a second, and the way his eyes r alight with that animalistic desperation makes ritsu kinda sick to his stomach

tome watches in disbelief and neither of them can rly do anything except watch him bite at the bag with his teeth, pop it open, and eat some of the plastic along with the contents. he'd been growling more and more at littler and littler things for the past few days, but ritsu didn't think he was so desperate for food he'd snarl at him like that...

they both eat their share in silence and wonder what woulda happened if they hadn't found this place when they did

#qktalks #anon #zombie au #starvation #this is a low point ^ after that they find more food and they never quite go through that sheer lack of resources issue again #but it Does open their eyes #tome doesn't even have it in her to make a comment abt it.she sees the way ritsu has gone eerily quiet #that night ritsu is actually a little scared. there's no more food in this place so they're going to have to leave tomorrow #and who knows when their next meal will be ? and even if they Do get it in time will it be enough to keep mob content? and for how long? #will he stop at snarls or will he do something more drastic? would he actually snap at ritsu if he gets desperate enough? #and like.what then #would ritsu just Take that.if mob honest to god tried to maul him would he even have it in him to shoot him in self defense ? #if mob tried to maul *tome* would ritsu have it in him to shoot him? #he thinks the answer is no. #even after mob is cured this still haunts ritsu. the burning question of Would He Do It never leaves his head #would mob bite him. would ritsu shoot him. would ritsu choose tome over mob (no.) #tw cannibalism #okay cannibalism after this tag it gets wild. also playing around with hypothetical mcd -> #not to get super fucking dark but it Terrifies him to think about mob killing tome #and like . ritsu just letting it happen. #cuz he couldn't shoot mob. he couldn't. he'd let her die. and then he'd have to watch mob eat her #and then he'd Know.that mob Ate a person. his brother ate a person #and like . u can't just.......eat a little bit and then let it go to waste. then she died for basically fuckin nothing #so would ritsu just ... stay there??? and let mob eat her????? whatthe fuck does he DO in that scenario. #there's no other food for Him.and he's Not eating tome. he's not he's not he's not he's not #but good thing that never happens hahahah <3ahahhah .h.a.ha #these ^ are the types of things that ritsu lies awake at night and thinks about even post-cure. these are the things in his head #he so Desperately needs therapy he's so Not okay

[liminalweirdo]

sometimes allistic people are so weird, someone at this clinic set up four health appointments for me and i have literally no idea what any single one of those appointments are going to be for. the clinic just. set them up, and i'm just gonna... show up to them, i guess.

so now i'm going to show up to an appointment and idek what i'm supposed to expect because there's literally no information? is this a psych assessment? is it a space for me to ask questions? should i treat this as a job interview? are they going to eventually ask me to meet them on the interstate after dark and mug me? idk!

this is mostly a joke post, but things could be made more accessible to autistic people by just giving a LITTLE bit of information on what something's going to be?

like what are you going to do at my MRI, what are you going to do at my first physio appointment? What's going to happen at this queer meetup? i don't fucking know, ever because you weird little allistic guys all just run blindly into anything, apparently, like a domestic animal released into the wild.

you don't know if you're gonna be there 3 hours or 3 weeks, how do you guys know you even brought what you need to survive? there's never any fucking instructions?

#i often think it's neutrotypicals with the weird fucking brains and not us #you guys waste SOOOOO much time talking about absolutely nothing so that you can get to know someone before becoming friends #but everything else requires absolutely no instructions or like toe-dipping? you just leap right into that stuff #what is it about other people that scares you so bad that you have to spent months small-talking with them before you can be friends #and yet you just walk into completely foreign situations with absoutely no prep or instructions #like don't you guys ever wonder like... what's going on? #what are you guys doing??? #please actually someone talk to me about this i am genuinely asking #so much of the time when i ask allistic people why they do things they genuinely have no idea why they do them that way and i'm like??? #''don't you see how this is actually detrimental/inefficient'' and you're like ''i guess'' and then you KEEP DOING IT ANYWAY? #like who's got the rigid thinking now llolol #tbh i think we all have disordered thinking it's just that neurotypicals think they're normal because they're ''the majority'' (for now) #for now #liminal scrawlings #actually autistic

[cinnamon-phrog]

Can I please have some comfort right now, if that's okay? People are watching me.

#i'm being impersonated and harassed #every day people in my past still try to find me. and i'm scared #not of what they might find. i have nothing to hide. but it's the constant fear of being watched and never being free #i'll never be free from the people who hurt me because they'll always find me somehow #i shouldn't be feeling so awful but at the same time. #i pour myself out to help others yet in return i get 'oh it doesn't bother me' and 'i've had it worse'. as if i doubt that for a second. #but please. not everyone has the same amount of emotional endurance. my patience has worn completely thin. #people i've known on here to be the most disgusting scum of the earth who no matter how many times i block them still show up in my inbox. #people from my old school still think they can get to me. a person who lied to me still wastes their time watching me #someone who i cared about the most probably still watches on and it's breaking me. #it always has been but i'm the sensible one. i'm not allowed to do this. i shouldn't be writing this but i'm getting desperate #i've taken deep breaths. i've drank water. i've done everything plus things i should not have to ease it off. #maybe the reason why i love puppets and artificial characters because i'm always used like one. like i'm a toy to break or put away #stupid analogy everyone has made for themselves but i'm done trying to be a good writer. the composer. #i want to feel without being judged but of course that's impossible. it's fine when it's strangers but relentless stalkers? it's wrecking m #it has been for ages but i was scared to say because i'm used to apathy and false promises. #i keep forgetting things and hurting myself. i'm getting scared.

[addictt-with-a-pen]

there is no gentle way to say that I don’t want to be alive anymore.

#I have absolutely nothing #I have no one #I have nothing to give #I’m a waste of life #so what’s the fucking point #why do I wake up every single day #and continue to fight for nothing #it was always gonna end this way #so why do I keep fighting #i don’t understand #I’m so fucking miserable #there is no point to it all either #it’s not making me stronger #I’m not gonna find some light at the end #no #it’s just an all consuming misery #I’m scared to wake up tomorrow #I keep pushing on #and for what #just to suffer more #I’m dwindling #there’s nothing left for me #there was never anything to begin with #it will end as it always does #in tears and in blood #… #depression #depressed #personal #my post

[orcelito]

Genuinely thinking about giving at least some of my alcohol away. Not quite wanting to get rid of my favorite vodka flavors yet, but the other ones + the ciders in my fridge...

Just kinda don't want them lol

#speculation nation #i still haven't had any alcohol since february 14th & i still dont know if ill ever want to drink again #the thought of alcohol just kinda makes me sick now. #ive enjoyed it in the past but now it just makes me think about how my dad died from alcoholism. #ive never been a binge drinker bc if i have more than 4 drinks at a time it Will make me nauseous #and ive only really drank maybe once or twice a month. usually no more than once a week at the most. #so like it's not like ive had much of a problem with alcohol before now #but it's also been my go-to for calming down my brain when im freaking out #and i have a history of using it as a form of self harm. #so a part of me knows that alcohol isnt good for me. and a part of me is scared of turning out like my dad someday. #better to just have nothing to do with it entirely. i dont want it. i dont want anything to do with it. #but at the same time my peach and strawberry vodka bottles are still relatively new and relatively full #and it'd feel like a waste of money to just give it away...😭😭😭😭 #so maybe ill hold onto those. for a bit longer. idk. #i dont even know if this current mindstate is gonna keep up. it's only been a bit over a month. #maybe someday i'll feel leas uncomfortable around alcohol again #... but today is not that day. i dont want this fucking alcohol. #negative/ #i guess. im just kinda trying to sort out my thoughts on it. #self harm ment/