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#not that i won't go with my own preference in the end
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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
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My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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acewritesfics · 2 days
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Sweetheart | Tommy Shelby 
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x wife!reader
Request: No
Warnings: The word whore being used a few times. A threat made.
Word Count: 640
Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Tommy enters his office and is taken aback to see his wife seated behind his desk, wearing a displeased look on her face. He lights his 6th cigarette for the day and moves to stand near the windows, knowing that whatever is about to unfold cannot be good. Her eyes follow his every move as she remains quiet waiting for him to speak first.
"I suppose I should ask if everything is well, but I have a feeling it would only anger you further," he says, observing her as she stares at him. "So why don't you tell me what I've done wrong so we can sort it out?" 
She continues to scowl at him, saying, "I know you are willing to do anything to get what you want, I just never thought I would have to witness it." 
His expression remains stoic, revealing nothing about what he's thinking or feeling. 
"Imagine now my amazement when I saw every man's favorite whore with her hands all over my husband only to see him do nothing about it. He seemed to be encouraging it." 
Tommy could see the sadness and the hurt in her eyes. He didn't miss the way her voice became strained at the end. It hurt his heart to know that it was his own foolish impulsive acts that caused her feel this way. But he could see she wasn't done talking. He remains silent, knowing that trying to apologise before she finishs would only make matters worse. 
"But instead of simply confronting you, I went and confronted her," she confesses. 
Tommy struggles to conceal his smirk. Y/N's headstrong personality causes her to protect what belongs to her and causes her to make sure people knew where she stands and where they stood. If he could be possessive over her, than so can she when it comes to him. Tommy was hers - him being the father to her three children, her husband and the love of her life - and she wasn't about to let anyone forget it. It's one of the many things Tommy loves about her. 
"Don't worry, she said you merely used her for information. That you flirted a little, got her hopes up, and that was the end of it," Her eyes never leave his while a smirk appears on her lips. She trusted him not to go any farther than flirting. It was the whores she was wary about. Her lover before Tommy was always persuaded by them . When they first started their relationship, she made it clear to Tommy that adultery would not be tolerated. 
"And what did you tell her?" Tommy enquired, slightly amused by her possessiveness. Y/N didn't typically take such action, but he admires that she was willing to confront anyone who threatened their family and marriage, even if it was against a lady of the night. 
"I told her, if she touches you with her filthy little hands again, I'll cut 'em off," she confidently tells him. 
"Sweetheart," he said not bothering to hide the small smirk that's forming, his head shaking side to side. "After all these years, you still surprise me with your words." 
"How else are those whores meant to know I won't tolerate them trying to seduce you?" She wonders aloud as he rounds the desk, standing in front of her. 
He pulls her up from the chair, lifting her to sit on his desk as he stands between her legs. "What if I need information from them? I can't have them scared of me." 
"Then you get someone else to do your dirty work," she tells him. "Preferably someone who isn't married." 
He smiles and kisses her, knowing she's no longer angry at him. "I love you." 
"I love you too," she replies pulling him closer to kiss him again. 
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zivazivc · 3 months
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Man she really dumped him for being sad? I see where creek got his personality-
queen also didn't sign up for raising baby brothers-in-law instead of their own kids that they've been planning on having
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worstloki · 11 months
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not a fan of people saying Odin and Loki are similar in a moral or decisive sense, particularly when it comes to Thor. that makes it sound like Loki doesn't know Thor or care about him beyond what he symbolises (regarding Asgard/the throne/family/worthiness), when that's a defining part of their relationship
#like i get WHY people go 'oh Thor is like Frigga (they care™/bring Emotions in) and Loki is like Odin (calculating™ /For The Greater Good)'#but if you make such a clearcut comparison you neglect a lot of stuff that Odin and Loki do drastically different#like there are literal contrasts that are pretty evident around Thor particularly#like Odin does expect Thor to be some ideal version of himself that obeys Odin implicitly and doesn't have his own volatile emotions?#while Loki more sees that Thor isn't who he tries to pretend to be and generally encourages Thor to realize that#the most obvious parallel would be how they in TDW try telling Thor that Jane won't work out#and Odin goes for the whole 'well they're insignificant' angle despite Thor caring about the humans and Jane particularly#Odin tries to go 'here's Sif and since you shouldn't have your own preferences (they're wrong and bad) consider my choice'#he largely disregards Thor's emotions#most people do on Asgard????#like it's literally wild how everyone saw Thor being major depressed and they basically told him to pretend to cheer up#like im sorry Thor's grief means nothing to y;all. he fell in love with someone very mortal and his brother is changed forever#Loki tries putting Thor off by first off. Thor KNOWS Jane isn't going to live long he's not never thought about it#he doesn't even make the decision for Thor he tells him to consider his choice well bc it WILL hurt him when she's gone#Loki is like treats Thor like a person and Odin is like nah I own him#I feel like in converting the brother/father relationship difference over people lose the differences in those aspect#they skip to similarities of heartlessness and Machiavellian ends meeting the means when Loki overall is#a far more moral character than Thor (at the start of Thor's arc) and Odin. and a lot of culturally Asgardian ideas#that's literally part of Loki's original characterization that he DIDN'T match up with their views#he didn't do stuff like take killing lightly like it's for fun and that's one of a long list of obvious aspects that make the setup cool#don't tell me Odin and Loki are the same#like there's some blanket understanding that Loki doesn't show or care about the people he loves#while Thor and Frigga have always been softhearted and refused to sacrifice themselves for what is deemed better for everyone#don't mistake selfishness for apathy and don't say Loki didn't cry himself through the first movie because duty to the throne comes first#that's literally Thor's bit#idk
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kelpiemomma · 7 months
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i really need to draw khan and emmet hanging out bc they would be such buddies. ingo hates how quickly they bonded bc khan took one look at emmet, at how excited emmet is to battle, and seemed to Immediately like him (it only bc khan had already bonded w ingo, but like hell will he ever admit that. that proves he has emotions! he has to hide those.) khan & emmet battling each other. khan takes over for ingo sometimes on the multi trains except he and emmet get so into battles that they need a chaperone to keep them from getting too rowdy bc somehow (???) they've managed to destroy a couple of train cars??? khan challenges the subway himself (he battles using himself but also his pokemon. he'd rather battle using himself, but ingo and emmet get awfully concerned when he faints so he stops doing it so much). khan and emmet discuss battle tactics (khan insists "offense is the best defense" and "go balls to the walls immediately on attack" and emmet argues for better strategizing and well rounded move pools) and help each other train, offering suggestions and tips and "hey, let's try this maneuver" or "i think it would be better if you did this move first".
not that they don't enjoy an off day, but they definitely bonded well over battles.
#khan a.#just some thoughts#ingo is a little jealous over just how quick khan seemed to take to emmet but khan saw how ingo behaved around his brother and knew#he didn't have to worry. he based his reaction off ingo. not that he still liked emmet immediately (he didn't even immediately like akari-#he's been burned too many times to so quickly and willingly open his heart like that) but while it took him at least a year to go from#dubiously tolerating ingo for akari to hanging out with ingo with the excuse of 'having nothing better to do' and even longer to say#'yeah these are my people and i will protect them' (bc admitting he likes them?? that he loves that they love him?? that he would#keep them safe at the cost of his own life without hesitation? oh he'll admit he'll protect them but he would not say out loud#just how far he'd go to protect them.) it took him a few weeks to go from eyeballing emmet still suspiciously to going out of his way#to engage emmet in conversation and approach him. ofc he still approached emmet by way of 'i saw your battle. try me >:)' and challenging#him. but he wasn't threatening to kill him or anything. akari saw how khan watched ingo for his cues tho (bc she was doing the same thing.#that may have been her dad's brother but he was still just a stranger to her. she's been hurt by enough strangers.)#and she thinks its funny that ingo will grumble and complain about khan not threatening emmet like he'd threatened ingo in the beginning#(when khans not around ofc) but won't say it to his face. ingo is an Adult. he's Above Tthat. he's NOT jealous and upset that this#feral bastard has left him behind for a new treat (his OWN TWIN.) nevermind that khan will turn down emmet if ingo has a task for him#and that khan still drops in for dinner with them (drops everything if ingo invites him (through akari) for dinner).#ingo is still khan's preferred twin (unintentional human pack instinct & dog instinct bonding to ingo) but#he's glad that emmet exists as well. he's privately glad the twins exist and that ingo ended up in hisui and that nana yeeted him to arceus#bc what a sad & pathetic existence he'd have otherwise had. fighting w nana and getting his mind wiped. arguing w customers.#he'd have stagnated until he self destructed.#ANYWAY. i love my OC and the family he accidentally got himself inserted into.
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creamecream · 1 year
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“I-I got a little paycheck,
You got big plans, and you gotta move,
And I don’t feel nothing at all,
And you can’t feel nothing small,
Honey, I love you, that’s all she wrote,
O-Ophelia,
You’ve been on my mind, girl, like a drug,
O-Ophelia,
Heaven help the fool who falls in love,
O-Ophelia,
You’ve been on my mind, girl, since the flood,
O-Ophelia,
Heaven help the fool who falls in love,”
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thatdogmagic · 1 year
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...that your audience won't hate.
This is a method I started using when NFTs were on the rise - thieves would have to put actual work into getting rid of the mark - and one that I am now grateful for with the arrival of AI. Why? Because anyone who tries to train an AI on my work will end up with random, disruptive color blobs.
I can't say for sure it'll stop theft entirely, but it WILL make your images annoying for databases to incorporate, and add an extra layer of inconvenience for thieves. So as far as I'm concerned, that's a win/win.
I'll be showing the steps in CSP, but it should all be pretty easy to replicate in Photoshop.
Now: let's use the above image as our new signature file. I set mine to be 2500 x 1000 pixels when I'm just starting out.
Note that your text should not have a lot of anti-aliasing, so using a paint brush to start isn't going to work well with this method. Just use the standard G-Pen if you're doing this by hand, or, just use the text tool and whichever font you prefer.
Once that's done, take your magic wand tool, and select all the black. Here are the magic wand settings I'm using to make the selections:
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All selected?
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Good.
Now, find a brush with a scattering/tone scraping effect. I use one like this.
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You can theoretically use any colors you want for this next part, but I'd recommend pastels as they tend to blend better.
Either way, let's add some color to the text.
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Once that's finished,
You're going to want to go to Layer Property, and Border Effect
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You'll be given an option of choosing color and thickness. Choose black, and go for at least a 5 in thickness. Adjust per your own preferences.
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Now create a layer beneath your sig layer, and merge the sig down onto the blank layer.
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This effectively 'locks in' the border effect, which is exactly what we want.
Hooray, you've finished your watermark!
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Now let's place that bad boy into your finished piece.
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You'll get the best mileage out of a mark if you can place it over a spot that isn't black of white, since you'll get better blending options that way. My preference is for Overlay.
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From here, I'll adjust the opacity to around 20-25, depending on the image.
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If you don't have a spot to use overlay, however, there's a couple other options. For white, there's Linear Burn, which imho doesn't look as good, but it still works in a pinch.
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And for lots of black, you have Linear Light
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Either way, you're in business!
EDIT since this has escaped my usual circles, and folks aren't as familiar with my personal usage:
An example of one of my own finished pieces, with watermark, so you can see what I mean about 'relatively unobtrusive'-- I try to at least use them as framing devices, or let them work with the image somehow (or, at the very least, not actively against it).
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I know it's a bummer for some people to "ruin" their work with watermarks, which is part of the reason I developed this mark in particular. Its disruption is about as minimal as I can make it while still letting it serve its intended purpose.
There's other methods, too, of course! But this is the one I use, and the one I can speak on. Hope it helps some of you!
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kasagia · 20 days
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Right hand II
Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist
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You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.
You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.
Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.
And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.
A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.
"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.
"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.
"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.
You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…
However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.
You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.
"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.
You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.
"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…
"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."
"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.
For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.
He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.
"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.
"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.
"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.
You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.
"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.
"So what about this? Are you scared?"
"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.
You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.
"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.
It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.
You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.
"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.
Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.
"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.
"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.
He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.
"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.
"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.
He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:
"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.
"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."
"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.
His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.
"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.
"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.
You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.
"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"
"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.
He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.
You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.
You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.
“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."
"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.
"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.
You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.
"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.
"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.
"If I know them, then yes, why?"
"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.
"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.
"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.
"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.
"Don't we?"
"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.
"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.
He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.
You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.
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You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.
The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...
“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.
As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.
“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.
"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."
"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.
"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.
"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.
Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.
It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.
"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.
He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...
"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"
"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.
"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'
He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 
He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.
But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.
"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.
Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.
You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.
Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.
And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.
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"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.
"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.
"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.
"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.
"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."
"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.
"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.
You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.
"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."
"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"
"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.
"What?"
"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."
"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.
"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"
"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.
"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.
No. I was supposed to be your pet.
"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.
"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.
"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.
"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.
You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.
"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...
"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."
"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.
You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.
"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.
"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...
"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."
As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.
You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.
You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.
On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.
What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.
You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.
At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.
"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.
"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.
"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."
This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.
"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.
You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.
He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.
At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.
You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.
"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."
You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.
You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...
You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.
"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.
Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...
He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.
"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.
"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.
"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.
You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.
The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.
"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"
"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.
"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.
"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.
"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.
You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.
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You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.
The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.
As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.
"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.
"The little witch is in trouble…"
"Our master will be very angry with her…"
"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"
They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.
"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.
"The little witch's friend is here…"
"Our master is interrogating her…"
"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."
"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."
"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."
And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.
"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.
You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.
You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.
So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.
You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.
You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.
Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.
"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."
"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.
"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."
"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.
His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.
"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.
Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.
You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.
You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.
You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.
You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..
You were the only one left alive.
From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.
You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.
And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.
You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.
For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.
But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.
You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.
Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...
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Part III Taglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13
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churipu · 4 months
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hihi i love ur works sm and i was wondering if i can request where the reader has an argument w the jjk men?? preferably w nanamin + any other characters :3 thank you in advance ^___^
BAD BLOOD — ARGUMENTS WITH JJK MEN !
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featuring. nanami kento, choso, megumi fushiguro x reader
warnings. cursing, yelling, slight angst (ends in fluff dw).
note. hi anon, thank you for loving my works, it means a lot to me. and i love this request, i've been feeling like crap for the whole day so this is just what i needed! i hope you like this one <;33 and for anons who have sent in request, i'm writing them down and keeping them in my drafts for daily posts, so don't worry about it!
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NANAMI KENTO. i feel like arguments with nanami will be very soft but angry. nanami is a gentle person, and he just hates the thoughts of saying something hurtful to you — but do keep in mind that he won't always be very soft, he could be loud at times. but most of your arguments with him are soft spoken, the both of you exchanging thoughts and troubles.
for the past few days, nanami has been extremely overworked and so you're walking on eggshells around him. he gets sensitive, and the slightest bit of inconvenience angered him. yes, you get it — he's tired from his work, you could totally understand that. he's a busy man after all.
"kento, don't you want to take a break..? you've been working non-stop, you'll get sick," you eyed him, poking around your food.
nanami sat across from you, his eyes glued to a paper, and honestly, it was getting a little sickening. all you wanted to do was to talk to him, but you felt as if you were selfish if you asked the man to prioritize you over his work — so you stayed silent, for almost a week the two of you haven't exactly been conversing right, or talking unless it was an exchange of "hi"s and "bye"s. but that was about it.
"i need to get this done, wait a moment."
that phrase sounded like a template by now, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, "i know, i'm just worried about you. you're not getting enough sleep, you're not eating well, and at this point, i'm just afraid that you'll dig your own gra—"
"i can take care of myself, thank you. you don't have to worry about me, i know what i'm doing."
you can't help but to furrow your brows at his cold reply, a little offended when all you seemed to be doing was care for him. the least he could do was thank you for it, "god, you don't have to be such an ass about it. forgive me for caring then."
at this point, your words only added fuel to the already big fire. nanami stared at you, the exhaustion in his eyes are apparent, and his lips pursed into a thin line before he inhaled sharply, "you're being a child, i just told you i can take care of myself. please, don't argue with me on this. i'm tired with all these paperwork, don't add more burden for my shoulders."
you clicked your tongue, standing up, not wanting to engage on this particular conversation anymore, "well forgive me for caring and for being a burden. enjoy your dinner," was all you spat out at him before going to the living room — plopping your body down the couch.
arguments with him usually ends up with the both of you apologizing to each other, but this particular argument seemed to not just go the way how it usually does. a couple of hours later, none of you talked. you assumed that the male finished his dinner, and you saw him walk by you into your shared room.
the two of you refused to talk to each other, or even as little as making an eye contact. you figured that you'd just spend the night in the living room where the TV could keep you company, so you stormed inside your shared room where nanami was on the bed, eyes still on his beloved papers.
he said nothing, nor did he spare a glance at you. so you become a guest in your own bedroom and grabbed your pillow, it wasn't that chilly outside so you didn't grab the only blanket laying on the bed (you actually left it there for him to use, the ac could be pretty cold at times).
and he never came out, not until you fell asleep with the TV still on. nanami hadn't even slept, he'd gotten his work done hours ago — but still he couldn't sleep. not without you by his side.
the clock strikes fifteen minutes past three in the morning, and nanami pushed himself up from the bed — feeling the void beside him, even with the blanket; he felt cold. opening the door softly, he trudged out of the room, the sight of you all curled up on top of the couch, vivid lights shining from the TV still managing to light up the whole living room despite the lights being off.
he squats down in front of you, brushing your h/c hair out of your face and it made you turn in your sleep. although not enough to wake you up completely, nanami one of his arm under your upper back, and one under your legs. carrying you inside the room with soft steps before laying you down, not forgetting to tuck you under the blanket and leaving trails of butterfly kisses on your face.
he could finally sleep.
with the sun rays greeting you through the creases of your still covered window, you squirmed. groaning out.
"y/n?"
upon hearing nanami's voice, your eyes flutter open. of course — it was a surprise for you to wake up on the bed when you fell asleep on the couch, "did you carry me here?"
nanami nods, he was leaning onto the bed post, "i'm sorry. what i said to you was wrong," he softly said.
the anger you felt the other night was gone by now, and you were just glad that nanami was willing to talk to you. you shook your head with a small smile, "it was part of my fault too, you were working — i shouldn't have pestered you too much."
nanami wasted no time in pulling you towards him, "you were worried for me. never apologize for that."
like i said, arguments with nanami will always end pretty quickly (the two of you are mature enough to talk it out), oh and also? he spoils you the entire day after an argument so — have fun!
CHOSO. i feel like choso would be confused a lot during arguments with you, on one side i could see him being brazen with his words, and on the other side i could see him being careful with them. no in between, he's definitely scared of saying the wrong things to you — and you getting hurt emotionally, hurts him as well. so at times he just tries to end it quickly by saying sorry.
god, he hates seeing you sad. at the end of the day, if he did say things the wrong way (even if it was to defend himself when he's not wrong), choso will apologize to you for how he said his words (and you'll apologize for your mistake). but choso has his share of apologizing because of his mistake too.
"cho, are you listening to me? gosh, you never pay attention to what i'm saying, are you taking this seriously?" choso looks up at you with his brows furrowed, definitely frustrated by everything that was happening around him right now.
first of all, he expected today to be a very special day. he hasn't seen you for the past couple of days because you've been so busy with work, and he was so excited when you told him you'd be having a couple of days to rest. he couldn't wait to meet you and go out on dates with you.
but clearly, his expectations were shoved down the drain because here you both were — arguing over your work hours choso had brought up a few minutes prior. and all he said was that he wished that the both of you would have more time to spend together, which irked you.
it had been a rough week with work where you had to write and write and write on countless paperwork (which you couldn't really complain on because you signed up for the job). and you weren't afraid to admit that you were in the wrong this time, when all choso wanted was time with you. here you were, getting all riled up because he wished that he had more time with you, and if the roles were switched; you were pretty damn sure you'd say the same thing to him.
"'m sorry for bringing that up. can we go out now..? i don't wanna fight w' you." choso mumbled out, averting his gaze to the side.
his tone ripped you away from your anger and you sighed, pulling him into your embrace, "cho, 'm sorry. i shouldn't have taken my anger out on you just because i've had a rough week."
choso returned your embrace mutely, a small smile dawning upon his lips. he was just glad the argument was cut short. all he wanted to do now was to go out of this slump and make you the happiest person ever — even just for a moment, a couple of days before you eventually have to return back to work.
"cho, say something."
choso pulls away from your touch, "i forgive you. let's go out? missed you. so much."
for the rest of the day, you and choso had the most fun in a week. also, choso fell into a pond in the park because he wasn't looking at the road — and also, you might've called your boss to extend your rest day (by saying you weren't feeling well) so you could have more time to spend with your boyfriend.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. i feel like megumi's the type of boyfriend who tries to stay out of arguments with you, if he was entangled in one where he isn't in the wrong — and you tell him to do something, he'd just kind of do it without any complaints. tell him to shut up? he shuts up. tell him to go away? he'll leave. tell him to leave you alone? he'll leave you alone (for a couple of hours).
but when he feels like things aren't ceasing, he'd try his best to negotiate with you and try to find out what the core of the problem is between the both of you. let's be real, megumi is a realistic type of person, he'd never admit that he's wrong when he isn't just to solve things the fast way, even to you; his own partner.
"y/n. how many times do i have to tell you that it's not that i'm bored of you alright? i've been busy. i'm not bored of you."
okay, you didn't expect one question to lead to this argument. all you asked him was a simple yes or no question: "are you bored of me?" and you didn't throw the question for no apparent reason, the reason behind that question itself was megumi's change of behavior the past two weeks.
he'd been extremely distant, and cold. whenever you asked him about it, he just tells you that he's tired. which you could totally understand since he is pretty busy, like uncle ben said: "with great power comes great responsibility."
being a jujutsu sorcerer is a big responsibility. you could understand where it was coming from, but when it happens again and again, you can't help but to overthink about it. overthink about how megumi might be bored of you and the whole relationship.
"megumi, i...okay— i'm sorry for asking about this. i was just worried." you tell him, not wanting to argue any longer about this whole thing, "i'm sorry, you must be stressed out with school and stuff."
megumi furrowed his brows, inhaling sharply, "no, no.. i'm sorry for lashing out. let's talk about this. i don't want you to get the wrong idea."
megumi explained everything from a to z, about how he was still so in love with you and he had been distant because of his power and what comes with it. it was pretty cute to listen to him talk, the constant flush on his face whenever he talks about you, and the stress in his voice when he talks about his power was apparent.
poor boy just needed a break.
"megumi, let's take a nap. you look like you need it."
"...i do."
argument ended. relationship stronger. and you both get to nap together, absolute win-win.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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lehguru · 1 year
Text
CALLING THEM MY LOVE + STRAW HATS
characters: luffy, zoro, sanji, nami, usopp, robin, franky, brook + jinbei
warnings: not proofread + commissions are open !
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monkey d.luffy doesn't even care about pet names. you try to call him out by using "my love", but he doesn't even look at you; he only notices you're calling him when you use his name or a nickname. "oh, what's up?" he simply answers, his wide eyes staring at you with obvious happiness and joy – simply out of seeing you there. everyone in the crew smiles at the obliviousness of their captain and the situation just becomes a joke. (nami asks if you need her to punch him till he acknowledges the pet names)
roronoa zoro almost growls at you when those two words leave your lips if you two aren't alone. it's not that he hated those cute names, he likes them, but in private; he knows that if you two use any pet name, sanji and the others won't stop bothering him, so he prefers to keep everything behind closed doors. if you call him 'my love' before bed, he will softly smirk at you and kiss your forehead, holding you close to his body.
sanji feels like doing backflips when you call him by any cute name. "my love, do you need any help?", he didn't need it, but as his body hits the floor, his eyes having hearts on them, he ends up needing help. he begs you to call him like that again, saying that it makes him feel all warm and nice that his sweetie is giving him such cute nicknames.
nami scoffs anytime you come up with a new nickname. "i'm not going to give you more money", she always says, her arms crossed in front of her chest. when she notices you're just being soft and adorable, she will press light kisses all over your face and woo at you. "you're s' lovely, baby! c'mon, les' have a date!"
usopp waves between being embarrassed by the pet name and being cocky about it. he can and will go "heh, obviously 'm your love! 'm usopp, after all!"; but if you do it in private, he will bury his face on your neck and quietly ask "do ya really think that?". no matter what, he will hug you and spin you around, laughing with joy at your own giggles. usopp will want to be next to you the rest of the day, doing his silly little jokes and telling you more stories to hear you laugh at him.
robin tears up softly after hearing you call her 'my love' for the first time. she never felt like that before; the straw hats make her feel like she belongs somewhere, but you... you make her feel something greater than that. the tall woman will grab your hand and softly kiss your knuckles, bringing you closer to her body so her other hand can rest on your hips. "you are my love, too." she will softly whisper against the skin of your hand, her lips forming the softest smile.
franky will immediately pick you up so you can sit on his metallic shoulder. "aren't you proud that your love is super strong?", he would say with a wide smirk. he would make sure to tell everyone that pass you two that you're the best partner ever and that he's so lucky to have someone like you – even if all crew members know about that.
brook laughs loudly. looming over you, he would start giggling and tease you a little; "yohoho? 'm your love! oh, my dear! i am truly your love!" he would pull his violin out and start serenading you, singing all the songs that he wrote about you. if you sit and applaud him every single timehe finishes a song, he will fall even harder for you.
jinbei simply smiles and puts his hand on the top of your head, cautiously so he doesn't end up hurting you. he resumes on doing whatever he was doing before, but your words would ring in his ears and he would remain with a smile on his face the rest of the day. at night, before you went to sleep, he would kiss your forehead and murmur, "goodnight, my love."
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2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used on them belong to their respective creators!!
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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months
Text
Rindou loves fingering you. 
He loves how creamy you get his fingers, how two fingers is enough to throw you over the edge. He loves how he can control your body just how he wants it, how he can edge you over and over again without having to break a sweat, just with his hands. He loves how, if he tries a little harder, he can have you squirting all over him, juicy pussy making a mess, he loves how sloppy he can get you. Haitani Rindou’s a nasty man when it comes to you, he can keep you underneath him forever. Rindou will finger you whenever he can--in his car, out at a club or bar, when he’s on the phone, hell even when you’re on the phone. (He thinks his favorite is whenever you have to keep it together, pretend like he’s not finger fucking you in public.) He loves the sticky feeling of you cumming on his fingers, how you suck them back in, how when he spreads them out your cum creates a webbing between them. He really, really, can’t get enough of it. Sometimes he prefers that over fucking you with his dick. It’s rare, but sometimes, he’ll do it. Just fuck you over and over again on his fingers until he has you crying to stop--and then keep going. 
Tonight, he thinks is one of those nights. 
Rindou’s had you under him already for the last hour, hearing how nasty your cunt is, squelching and creaming around him. You're sniffling, tears streaming down your face as he pulls another orgasm out of you just with his fingers. "Baby, you look so fucking good just like this." He coos, pulling his fingers out with a squish, and laughs. "Love fucking you on my fingers baby, n so fucking juicy" he's talking to himself, enamored with looking between your legs and seeing the mess you've made for him. Rindou is dipping his hand between your thighs again, pushing the same two fingers back into your wet heat and adding a third, and you whine. "R-Rin, so full, fuck." Your face is hot, body covered in a sheen of sweat and all you can do is lay there with your legs open and take it. When he's in one of his moods he won't stop until he gets it out of his system, which means sometimes you end up sweaty and sticky and overstimulated for hours under him. "You can take my fingers, right pretty girl?" And you nod, squirming as he slowly pumps his three fingers into your sloppy cunt, seeing your cum oozing around his hand and pooling in his palm. 
He's hard, painfully so, but he can't seem to care about his own hard on when he's got his little baby crying like that. His free hand wipes away a stray tear, while the other starts fucking into you quicker, curling his fingers up to hit that gummy part of your walls that has you crying even more. "Rin, m'so close, please, please—!" You're begging, pleading with him to let you cum. You think it's too much, especially with each last one he pulls out of you. But he proves you wrong over and over again with each buildup and you crave it each time. It feels like you can't breathe without him letting you catch that high again. Stronger than any drug he could have given you. "Give it to me baby, come on you can do it." He works you through it, hitting exactly where you need it each time he fucks up into you. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, it has you crying and shaking and grabbing at Rindou's arm like some saving grace. Electricity shot through your veins, your nerves on fire as he ripped another orgasm out of you. You babbled away as your juices covered him again, and he could only smile as you shook. "Good girl, such a good girl" he would praise, leaning down while still stuffing your cunt full of him and kissing your face, smothering you in affection to distract you with how overstimulated you're feeling. "My pretty baby is doing so well" Rindou's fingers stilled for a moment, and taking the time to make sure you were cognisant enough to give a real answer when he looked into your eyes and asked: "do you trust me?" You sniffed and nodded, but he simply clicked his tongue. " I need you to answer with words baby. Do you trust me?" It almost concerned you how serious he was being knuckles deep in your pussy, but you answered anyways. "Yes Rindou, I trust you." Your voice was shaky, and hoarse with how much you've been crying, but you trusted him with your life.
Slowly, Rindou added a fourth finger into your abused cunt, and it felt like your lungs were stuffed full of bricks. You choked back a sob, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you bit your lower lip to stop yourself from screaming. It was overwhelming, feeling 4 of his fingers stuffing into your now swollen pussy, curving into themselves to make a point inside of you. Rindou twisted his wrist, hearing the messy sounds coming from your hole, seeing you dripping and oozing onto the mattress below you. He stayed a slow pace, feeling all the small bumps and ridges of your pussy up against his fingers. "It's okay baby, I got you, I got you" he'd whisper, repeating himself over and over while you caught your breath. You never stopped trembling from your last orgasm, teetering on the edge with each lazy thrust Rindou gave. You couldn't speak, broken phrases and words spilling from your mouth as he quickened his pace. Rindou's breathing got heavy, pupils dilated and zeroed in on your cunt sucking in his fingers with each thrust. You were doing so well for him, while he played with you, stretched you out the most he's ever done. He kept whispering so nicely to you, how good you were, how pretty you were with his fingers stuffed inside your sloppy pussy, how much he loved you. Your head was spinning, you were fucked dumb already and Rindou was making it so hard to even think for just a second. "Fuuuck, baby—making such a mess on my fingers, love you so much, you got another one in you right?" You were panting, nodding furiously with your eyes locked onto his. He didn't even need to curl his fingers with how well he was hitting all the right spots—pumping harder in and out and in and out of your mess of a hole, and before you could wrap your head around it you were squirting, covering him in your essence. You heard a laugh, though your eyes were unable to focus at all. "Fuck, baby! So fucking pretty when I got you squirting like that." It sounded like a tease, but you knew he meant it. He told you all the time, he loved how your face would scrunch up during the build up, and letting go with pretty pouty lips making an o shape, tears falling at the corners of your mouth. (He even recorded it once, so you can see how pretty you looked.) 
"I got you baby, it's okay, you can let go." He whispered, closer to your face now than he was just moments before—kissing your forehead as you practically convulsed in his arms. His fingers were pulled out, along with your cum that dripped from his digits. A trembling hand latched on to his shirt, unable to control yourself in this moment and just cried. Giving yourself to him fully was such an intimate experience for you, that you couldn't help but sob in his arms afterwards. He'd hush you with gentle words, smoothing over your hair with his clean hand and kissing your temple. "You did so good for me, pretty girl—I love you." You stutter out that you love him too and latch onto him more.
He’ll take good care of you after that.
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animehideout · 3 months
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So you did the JJK guys turn ons. What about their turn offs?
JJK Men Turn-Offs
a/n: Thank you anon for this request, I hope you like it ❤️
Ps: If you don't see your request posted yet it's because I'm still working on them, thank you for your understanding my loves 🫶🏻✨
Characters: Gojo Satoru / Ryomen Sukuna/ Toji Fushiguro/ Nanami Kento/ Geto Suguru/ Choso Kamo / Ino Takuma.
Check out JJK Men Turn-ons here
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Gojo Satoru: Poor Hygiene.
I see Gojo as someone who gives attention to details, to himself, his partner and in general.
He's someone that values aesthetics.
He's into self-care and likes to spend money on expensive body lotions, perfumes, nice and elegant clothes.
So poor hygiene is an immediate red flag for him, as it contradicts his preferences for cleanliness and order.
Satoru takes pride in his appearance and expects the same from people around him especially his partner.
So a partner lacking efforts in matching his level of cleanliness and appearance is a turn off for him especially with the importance he places on the way he presents himself.
Satoru believes that taking care of oneself is a form of respect for others, so for him, lack of hygiene is considered as lack consideration.
Poor hygiene disappoints him a lot and would definitely distance himself.
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Ryomen Sukuna: Inability to satisfy his sexual desires.
Driven by his desires and lust, once his partner screws up, it's over.
He has a dominant and assertive nature, wanting everything to go as he wishes.
He has high expectations and puts big emphasis on his sex life.
So his partner's / love interest's inability to satisfy his desires or refuse to do some wild crazy shit that he wants, would frustrate him and make him angry.
Sukuna won't disappoint his partner, he's literally the best at sexually pleasing them, so it's crucial that he's equally pleased and satisfied.
If his partner fails to fulfill his needs then it might trigger his impatience, making him less tolerant.
He places big importance on mutual enjoyment, if he senses any imbalance, then he's end the relationship without hesitation.
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Toji Fushiguro: Being A Drama Queen.
Toji is a straightforward and rational man.
He values smartness and efficiency, so making excessive drama or overreactions is a major turn-off for him.
He prefers logical thinking and conflicts solving over unnecessary emotional displays .
Toji is a prudent man and sees easily through dramatic actions or words any attempted manipulation from his partner.
He prefers a partner who can handle their emotions maturely and independently without causing a fuss.
Constant drama might make him feel bored or like he's dealing with a child and not a grown up adult.
For him exaggerated reactions, nagging are a waste of time, a headache stimulator and get on his nerves.
He prefers a chill, simple and laid back partner.
Would definitely distance himself without further engaging in the the relationship/ situationship.
Would feel second hand embarrassed if his partner makes a scene.
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Nanami Kento: Arrogance.
There's a difference between being self-confident and being arrogant.
The first one is a turn-on for Nanami, the second one is an immediate turn-off.
That line that separates them "attitude" makes a huge shift in the way he perceive his partner.
He finds arrogance off-putting.
He prefers a partner who is grounded and modest; traits that align with his own reserved nature.
Being an introverted man, Nanami tends to communicate in a calm and polite manner, with an arrogant partner the balance of his communication style would be disrupted.
An arrogant partner would talk down to him, which is very demeaning.
Politeness and mutual respect are necessary for Nanami, and arrogance can come across as dismissive, he finds that unappealing.
Nanami wants a genuine connection with his partner, where both of them are sincere, caring and responsible.
And arrogance brings with it selfishness and this doesn't align with how he pictures a stable, romantic relationship with a calm and harmonious environment.
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Geto Suguru: Lack Of Ambitions And Negativity.
For a man with very big dreams, lack of ambitions is pathetic.
He wants a partner to push him forward and not bring him down with their negativity.
Geto believes in constant striving for improvement and excellence, so having a partner with no dreams would definitely get into his way and waste his time.
He pities people who are too basic and too simple and sees them as weak and burden in earth.
For him only people who are willing to make an impact on society are worth living but the purposeless ones are just a waste of oxygen.
The lack of purpose means lack of personality for him, it would make him instantly disconnected and disgusted no matter how much he would be physically attracted to that person.
Geto envisions a romantic relationship as a collaboration towards achieving mutual common goals.
So lack of ambitions and negativity would hinder the formation of thus goal-oriented relationship.
If a person isn't willing to change, push boundaries and challenge themselves, then Suguru wouldn't even bother to spend another second with them.
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Choso Kamo: Talking To Other Guys.
Choso is a loyal man with a protective nature.
He prefers quality over quantity, having a loyal partner would mean the whole world to him.
A partner who engages in unnecessary or flirty conversations with other man ( even at the beginning of the relationship) would definitely make him really sad and turn him off at the spot.
Choso appreciates a reserved partner who only has eyes on him, so a gf/bf who likes to be the center of attention of other guys and constantly talk with them would make him break up with them to protect his heart and peace.
Choso wants undivided attention, he is willing to give the world to his partner, cut off all unnecessary connections if his partner feels jealous or uncomfortable and he wants the same.
Trust is crucial for Choso, and once his partner breaks that trust then it's over.
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Ino Takuma: Dry Replies.
Ino is a man who thrives on his partner's affection and attention.
So dry replies would definitely make him sad and question hus partner's feelings towards him.
Ino likes to engage in lively conversations that flow effortlessly, from sharing how was his day to his plans for tomorrow.
So being constantly faced with replies that lack enthusiasm or effort are huge turn-off for him.
He puts too much effort in the relationship so he expects the same from his partner.
Ino appreciates a partner who expresses themselves openly, and also good listener who is willing to comfort him and tell him thay everything is gonna be alright.
And receiving cold replies would disappoint him and push him away, making him think that his partner is careless about him.
Also when sharing memes. Humor is important to Ino, so dry and dull answers would make him feel embarrassed and awkward.
He cares too much, he deserves someone who would give him the attention and care he needs.
So distancing himself from a dry partner would save him his energy and save him from overthinking.
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yowlthinks · 7 months
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The Final 15: Aziraphale's decision matrix in a no-choice situation
I have been thinking and reading about what happened since season 2 came out, and I think I have finally been able to put it all down into a logical sequence. This meta is the result of both countless posts I have read on tumblr and my own thoughts.
But let us start from the beginning, which is essentially Metatron's offer:
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Notice how Aziraphale consistently declines the honour, as Metatron keeps pressing. When he says that Aziraphale is the perfect choice he also mentions that Aziraphale "is a leader, is honest and doesn't just tell people what they want to hear", which is of course a lie and they both know it. Initially, Aziraphale can't deny it because he can't just go "well, actually, I have been doing exactly that, stretching the truth in my reports and on a few notable occasions outright lying to my superiors and even God Herself". So he deflects to "where will I get my coffee?", preferring to highlight his attachment to Earth. In response to that Metatron makes his final move: he knows about Aziraphale's partnership with Crowley, and that means he knows about the lies.
This threat to Crowley gets Aziraphale to the following decision matrix:
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Telling Crowley about the threat is useless. Aziraphale knows he will suggest running away together, and that puts them both in danger. Similarly, running away alone / hiding Aziraphale will not be a good move either because Metatron will not hesitate to harm Crowley and use him as a bait for Aziraphale.
So this means that Aziraphale's best option is not telling Crowley about the threat and persuading him to come with Aziraphale, his second best being going alone. Both of these offer best safety guarantees for Crowley, and this is something Aziraphale would not compromise on.
So our angel launches into this entire speech about making a difference. These are the only arguments he can come up with on the fly regarding why he took the position (the position he does not want! At a place he does not want to go back to!). And he is terrified that Metatron will come back and he won't be able to finish this conversation, won't be able to persuade Crowley. Add to this the fact that Crowley is clearly trying to have an important conversation with him too. A conversation they would like to have in private, but which Aziraphale knows can be interrupted at any moment. That's why he tries to stop Crowley, that's why he is constantly glancing out of the window.
Aziraphale is angry and frustrated, but this is mostly anger at Metatron who put him into this position, at the unfairness of it all, at himself for not being able to get Crowley to agree. It is the despair that just when Crowley confesses his love, instead of being able to say "I love you" back, he has to swallow it down again. Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is "I forgive you for not trusting me to make the best choice for us both", "I forgive you for not agreeing to go with me, I understand why you declined". And this aligns neatly with the theory about the Nightingale song in the car being a message from Aziraphale: it is his way of saying "I love you, I chose you, I chose our side, and that’s why I had to go".
And you know what? Crowley is a clever noodle and he knows Aziraphale well, so he will figure it out, he will spot this out of character, under-duress-only style of decision-making and start untangling that mystery.
We all know how it ends, and I can't wait to see it!
UPD: to put the above in perspective, see this meta with graphs!
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
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Tormented by a Ghost
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
TW: small mention of smut and simon being kinda mean
TY TO MY BETA FOR MAKING THIS 10X BETTER @c-h-a-r-n-i-k
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Tired of living with your family, you decide to move out. There's just one problem— Rent is too costly to afford on your own. You complain about it to your friend, and they tell you that they know someone who's also looking for a roommate and preferably another female. Fantastic!
Your friend gives you her number and ya'll are moving in together by the end of the month. It was great. No nagging parents, no micromanagement, nothing. You loved it. Until your roommate brings her man over. And he's a fucking bully.
--
You're crawling home from a hard day at work, and you want nothing more than some wine on a quiet night. Unlocking the door, you step into the flat. The lights aren't turned on so you assume your roommate isn't home.
Dumping your bag in your room, you make a beeline towards the kitchen. As you're bent over in the fridge, your roommate's door opens.
"Hey,” you call out, "I'm pourin' myself a glass of wine if you're interested!"
Then an assertive, baritone voice speaks from behind you.
"You must be the roommate."
You give an ear-piercing scream as you jump, whipping around to face him with a hand over your racing heart.
"Fuckin' hell! No, it's okay, I don't need my hearin' er nothin'." he scolds.
"What the fuck! I almost flat-lined with my head in the fridge because of you!"
Then you get a good look at him. This monster of a man is a minimum 6'3, with a black balaclava covering his face, a black long-sleeve shirt, and grey sweats. You tried real hard to not ogle the tattoo that stains his exposed left arm. And the grey sweats, we all know why. Cursed be your fetish for thick forearms and big hands.
He leans his head back, looking down his nose at you.
"I think it'd be an improvement," he says, "You face down, I mean," and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline as he chuckles.
You don't know who he thinks he is, talking to you—a complete stranger— like that but you aren't about to take his shit.
You sneer. "Fuck you. Yeah, I bet that's the view you get the most. Women willingly turn away to not get a look at your mug. Did my roommate ask you to put that mask on so she could face you during sex?"
He steps forward, his height allowing him to tower over you, and growls out, "You callin' me ugly?"
Smirking, you roll your eyes. Of course.
"I don't see any other reason for you to hide your face. Not that it matters to me— I'm not the one that has to tolerate it."
His eyes squint at you as he retorts, "I'm quite the opposite."
Opening your mouth, you're about to tell him that he can say whatever helps him sleep at night when your roommate calls out to the big brute in front of you.
"Ghost? What's taking so long?" she asks.
You tried and failed miserably to hide your mocking giggle at hearing his name, and he leers at you in response. "Go on, Ghost. You're being called back into the realm of the dead."
As he steps away, he says with contempt, "Dumb little bird doesn't know what she's talking about," before walking over to your roommate, looping his arm around her shoulders and going into her room.
He probably doesn't even know your name and he laid into you like he's hated you his whole life. After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you shake your head and walk towards your bedroom. Freak.
--
One day, after having your friend with benefits over in the morning for some nice stress relief, you walk him out. And fucking Ghost is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You quickly shuffle your friend out the door, face glowing with embarrassment.
Why was he here? Jesus Christ, now he's going to watch you do the walk of shame around the flat. Hopefully, he won't say anything. As you walk away from the door to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, Ghost speaks up.
"Well, that was pathetic."
You hang your head and close your eyes in resignation. Should've known someone as toxic as he wouldn't mind his own goddamn business.
"What now, Ghost?"
He sounds oddly smug as he says, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and I didn't hear anything coming out of your room. Sounds like he doesn't know what to do with a cunt."
Behind gritted teeth, you grind out, "Don't worry about my pussy, bud. You've got yours coming in," and you hold the n as you look at your watch, "30 minutes. Now piss off."
As you stomp away towards your room, the bottle of water all but forgotten, you hear him let out a deep chuckle. He's an asshole. A physically attractive one, sans the face, but still an asshole. You're going to have to get your friend to come over more often if Ghost is going to continue being around with those jacked arms and deliciously tight grey sweats.
Sucking your teeth, you make a mental note to ask your roommate why she gave him a key to your shared flat without asking.
--
A week later, your roommate has Ghost over and you figure it'd be a good time to get some action yourself. You send him a text and in less than 20 minutes, you're letting him in. Hugging him, you tell him to go to the bedroom. But he's not paying attention to you— he's looking directly behind you.
Turning around to look, it's Ghost. Goddamn it. And this time he's shirtless with his arms crossed and a skull mask on. God fucking damn it. Pulling the arm of your friend, he looks down at you and you tell him to go on, that you'll be there soon.
He nods, walking away with one last look at the phantom leaning against your roommate's door. Exhaling a ragged sigh, you turn back to Ghost.
"Can I help you?"
He shakes his head mutely before responding, "No, lovie, but I can help you." You shake your head at his nonsense.
"No. I'm not doing this with you."
You turn to walk away when he speaks again.
"Yer really gonna let him touch you again? He clearly doesn't know what he's doing— Bedroom's silent as a crypt. Even with those glasses he's got on, he can't find what he should be lookin' for."
Insulted for your friend, you face Ghost with a disbelieving look on your face.
"You're not seriously standing here trying to cockblock me. You—" his audacity has you stammering, "You have no idea what I'm like. Maybe I'm just naturally quiet in bed."
Ghost stares at you for a solid minute before he shrugs and goes back to your roommate.
Unbelievable asshole. Why does he have to look so good shirtless, the berk.
--
You start noticing that Ghost is there a couple of hours before your roommate gets there and you'd think it's weird if you weren't too busy being distracted by the fact that he's always taunting you one way or the other. And then one day, you question him on it.
"You do know your girlfriend won't be home until the evening? It's barely 3."
Ghost turns his head from the TV to look at you and grunts.
"Not my girlfriend." That's news to you.
"Then why you spendin' so much time over here? You're gonna have me thinkin' you like spending time in my delightful presence." you banter with a teasing smile.
Ghost continues to stare at you and the heated look in his eyes confuses you but then he turns back to the TV.
"I can't stand ya, ya daft bint."
You pretend you don't hear the muted tenderness in his voice.
--
And on a sunny day, it all comes crashing down. The boys are over again, but this time Ghost is boring holes into the back of your head as you both go into your respective rooms. You're straddling your boy's hips shirtless when you hear your roommate's furious yelling from the other side of the flat and then stomping towards the front door before it slams closed.
After your bedroom door is busted open, the bolt being broken out of the faceplate from the brutal strength behind the force— and you're jumping off the bed and crossing your arms over your exposed chest.
It's Ghost and he's staring directly at your friend on the bed.
"No." He stomps over to grab your friend by his shirt and drags him off the bed and towards the front door before tossing him against it with a nasty-sounding slam.
"Get the fuck out."
Your friend is spluttering when Ghost cuts him off.
"If I see you here again, I'm turnin’ those silly little glasses," and he taps a lens with his finger, "into contacts. Now get the fuck out. I won't repeat myself." And with that, he trips over his own feet running out the door.
You're standing in the living room. eyes are wide in disbelief. What just happened? There's a moment of silence before Ghost breaks it.
"Your roommate won't be coming back today." He walks over to you picks you up to sit you on the kitchen countertop and lifts his mask over his mouth.
"Now. You're going to come on my tongue before I fuck you and personally test out this 'I'm quiet' theory, pet." You look down at him and sigh.
"I think I'm gonna need a new roommate," you lament.
Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he says, "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. I'll be moving in with you. Also, no. You don't have a choice."
He digs his fingers into your thigh and purrs against your skin, “If you find it in you to scream, my real name’s Simon.” 
And with the way his usually sharp tongue delicately rubs against your clit, you can't find it in you to argue.
A/N: dreamt of this and it had me in a chokehold.
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rebeccathenaturalist · 7 months
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Unsurprisingly, a lot of the commentary I'm seeing about this has been of the "But--but--I would do the same thing because I don't want anything bad to happen to the deer!"
Look. I love wildlife, and I love getting to see deer, coyotes, and even the occasional black bear in my neighborhood. But they are here because there is good habitat nearby with lots of natural food sources, not because I deliberately put out food for them to eat. I respect them as wild animals with whom my relationship is very different compared to the domesticated animals I take care of every day. A deer is not a sheep or a horse; a coyote is not a dog.
People who do things like try to tame deer or, worse yet, try to raise a fawn or other young wildlife like pets are robbing those wild animals of their natural existences. We've already wrought our own preferences on the landscape to a severe degree, tearing the wildness out of it to create lawns and farms and subdivisions and strip malls. When we then dismiss the wildness of these animals and impress our own desire for connection on our terms on them, we are harming them.
I've already written elsewhere about the difference between "tame" and "domesticated". No matter how docile that deer seems, it is never going to be as (relatively) safe and tractable as a domesticated sheep or goat. It will always be more unpredictable, and more likely to lash out suddenly at a person due to fear, or hormones, or protection of young.
These animals need their wild instincts to be intact if they are going to survive without being dependent on us. They need those instincts in order to find mates and keep the gene pool stirred up. Their instincts keep them safe from danger, including humans. And their instincts never totally go away, no matter how much we may try to tame them otherwise.
This is why a good wildlife rehab is going to minimize handling of the wild animals they care for, especially those that are going to be able to be released back into the wild. The less comfortable these animals are with humans, the better their chances of surviving in the wild and having fulfilling, natural lives. Wildlife that retain their wariness of humans are less likely to end up falling prey to hunting, or being killed as nuisance animals when they get too aggressive in seeking food or otherwise coming into conflict with people.
The person who painted "pet" on a fully grown white-tailed buck and put a collar around his neck may have felt like they were doing that deer a kindness, but they have likely robbed him of the chance to just live a natural life as his own, independent being out in the woods and fields. He might be out there, sure, but perhaps he won't mate because he imprinted on humans. Or maybe he will end up shot by a hunter in spite of the precautions because he's just too friendly and those antlers are worth taking the shot.
There will always be something missing from this deer's life because of the arrogance of someone who thought they could own and keep and control a wild-born animal for their own enjoyment, instead of allowing him to come and go as he pleased. Honestly, it reminds me of King Haggard from Peter S. Beagle's The Last Unicorn, whose response to seeing something beautiful was to capture it and keep it rather than simply enjoying and remembering that magical moment:
"I like to watch them. They fill me with joy. The first I felt it I thought I was going to die. I said to the Red Bull I must have them, all of them, all there are. For nothing makes me happy but their shining and their grace. So the Red Bull caught them. Each time I see the unicorns, my unicorns, it is like that morning in the woods and I am truly young, in spite of myself."
That's how I feel about people who are willing to drastically alter a wild animal's behavior for their own selfish benefit, even if they think they're being kind. I know I'm fighting a bit of an uphill battle in this, but I'm rather stubborn that way.
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north-noire · 2 months
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My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.
1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!
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