#you are the most important person in this

[renard-dartigue]

Hi now i'm curious what is the beef with the rappers

Man this is going to be long so I'll try to keep this simple and entertaining. I hope this comes across as clear cause I'm shook right now.

Here is a glossarie to break thing up:

Prologue (The Spark 🔥)

Round 1.1 (Physical Education 💪🏾)

Interlude part 1 (Roots 🏠)

Round 1.2 (2 Warning Shots 🔫)

Interlude part 2 (Pusha the Seer 👁)

Round 2.1 (Knifes Out 🔪 )

Round 2.2 (The Nuke 💥)

Epilogue (All eyes on him 👀)

My Theory 🤷🏾‍♂️

Highly recommend checking out the tracks yourself while you read along.

Prologue (The Spark)

Let it be known that I am a neutral party and that I don't take sides when it comes to rap beef. I was here for the music and creativity. I am just trying to recount events to the best of my knowledge. Sorry if some details are inaccurate.

Okay so basically, Drake, J Cole, and Kendrick Lamar are the Big 3 of the rap world right now.

A month ago, Future and Metro Boomin (two rapper who supposedly don't fuck with Drake anymore) released a song with Kendrick Lamar called "Like That". In the song Kendrick took a shot at Drake and J Cole, saying there isn't a big 3, its only him on top.

4 weeks ago J Cole dropped a track called "7 Minute Drill" that is dissing Kendrick. However, in a move that is very uncharacteristic of J, he took down the official track and formally apologized to Kendrick. Thus signaling his exit from the rap battle.

ROUND 1.1 (Physical Ed)

Drake on the other hand dropped "Push Ups" 2 weeks ago, a diss track that went after other rappers he doesn't like but mainly Kendrick. In it, he made fun of Kendrick's height and his contracts. He then ends the song with "I was really try'n keep it PG" meaning he has a nuke on Kendrick that people don't know.

Not long later, Drake dropped ANOTHER diss track "Taylor Made Freestyle" with Ai voices of Snoop Dog and fucking 2PAC! Kendrick has stated before that 2pac is one of his idols so this must have been a deep cut. In the song Drake claims Kendrick doesn't write his own music and uses the writers of Taylor Swift. Relating a rapper to pop music is seen as disrespectful.

INTERLUDE PART 1 (Roots)

Before I continue, I want to give a brief run down on how the public perceives these two rappers.

Drake portrays himself as a superstar, he's always on social media flaunting his success and partying with other celebrities, seeing alot of women and living a lavish lifestyle. His music is catchy, something you put on in the club. Most of his fan base praise him for his sick beats and witty lyrics. He's been in the music industry for a while and is no push over.

Kendrick Lamar is a very private person, doesn't expose anything about his personal life unless its on a track. He almost never gets into fights with anyone. He is a family man, stressing the importance of being there for his wife and son and encourages other fathers to do the same. His fan base praise him for his creative lyrics and highlighting the black American condition.

ROUND 1.2 (2 Warning Shots)

2 Day ago, Kendrick Lamar came back with his first official diss track on Drake called "Euphoria". In this song, Kendrick goes in on Drakes fake personality. Drake has always been known around the community as a bit of a poser, he grew up in Canada and was raised by his white mother, a relatively comfortable childhood. He was a star on the popular show Degassi when he was young. garnering him a fan base early in his career. Kendrick doesn't approve of Drake appropriating black American culture and acting like he some tough guy. When in reality he is a Canadian nerd thats disrespectful to 2pac. All throughout the song, Kendrick hits at things that many people have know about Drake, such as his behavior around underage girls. He also called Drake a deadbeat father who isn't in his son's life, even referencing his lost battle to Pusha T. Then Kendrick finally warns him that he has more dirt that he is willing to share if Drake takes things further.

Similar to Drake, Kendrick dropped another track called "6:16 in LA" later that day. This song focuses on Drake's environment, specifically the people he hangs with. Kendrick implies that Drake paid people to dig into his background and when they didn't find anything, Drake made up stuff instead. Kendrick then says that someone in Drakes group is leaking information to him about something even more serious. Also planting a seed in Drake's mind that his supposed friends don't actually like him, just like the clout from hanging around him.

INTERLUDE PART 2 (Pusha the Seer)

Taking a quick break again, we need to discuss something that occurred long before Drake's battle with Kendrick.

5 years ago, Drake was in a rap battle with rapper Pusha T, someone who was smaller than Drake at the time in terms of popularity. Pusha dropped a song called "The Story of Adidon" where he dropped a bomb that Drake had a kid and wasn't taking care of him. Drake initially denied it but it was later revealed to be true.

Since then Drake has never responded to Pusha T's diss track, making Pusha the current winner. And Kendrick is bringing it back into the light.

Round 2.1 (Knifes Out)

Around 2 am EST time of May 4th, Drake drops his diss track, "Family Matters" one of his strongest songs, switching his flow 3 times in the span of 7 minutes. In true Drake fashion, its a club song with a catchy beat. Like his previous diss, its aimed at multiple people but the main focus is on Kendrick, even bring up "I was really try'n keep this PG".

Drake doubles down on his black identity and mocks the fact that Kendrick and other rappers are saying he isn't black, (incorrectly assuming that they are coming at him for being mixed when the real issue is that he is appropriating black American rap culture as a Canadian mixed man who grew up in a safe environment) Drake not only calls Kendrick a fraud who only raps about black issues for attention, Or that his activism is performative. He makes a shocking claims that Kendrick is a wife beater. Then Drake says that Kendrick's son doesn't belong to him and implies Kendrick's producer was the real father.

The track caused an uproar. But only for the span of 15 minutes. Because Kendrick did the unthinkable.

ROUND 2.2 (THE NUKE)

Almost as if expecting Drake's move, Kendrick Lamar did what no one saw coming. He dropped his diss track "Meet The Grahams" about 15 minutes after Drake released "Family Matters".

This time around, in a fashion almost unheard of from him, Kendrick strips all the usual metaphors from his lyricism and structures his track like he is speaking to Drake and his family, 4 parts per individual.

Kendrick begins by speaking to Drakes Son, Adonis, the same son Pusha T exposed Drake for neglecting 5 years ago. He's apologizing to him for his father's behavior. Kendrick speaks to him softly but sternly like a mentor, telling him not to be like his father. Kendrick tells Adonis all the things Drake did and warns him not to do them too: involved with escorts, plastic surgery to appear more black, surgery to look more muscular, hiding a kid. (Kendrick stresses that Adonis is black regardless of being mixed, further highlighting that he isn't discrediting Drake's blackness because he's mixed but because he isn't being himself.) Finishing of by telling the kid to be proud of who he is.

The second half is Kendrick addressing Drake's mother and father, Sandra and Denise. Kendrick speaks to her like he's revealing tragic news, explaining to her that her son is involved in disgusting things. He goes down a list of things, his tone growing more intense and angry. Kendrick then claimed that Drake is employing and enabling pedos in his group, and hopes they die. Even implying that his group is going to be raided by the feds some day.

The third half is the MOST shocking of all. Kendrick begins talking to an unnamed individual, simply calls her babygirl. Similar to Adonis, Kendrick takes on a somber tone and apologizes to her for Drakes behavior. He says its not her fault Drake abandoned her, says that she is deserving of love. He warns her not to become a target for people like Drake to pray on and says she has so much to offer the world.

Kendrick revealed Drake has ANOTHER kid and isn't in their life! (Allegedly)

To close of, the fourth half is Kendrick speaking directly to Drake, his tone tired. He tries to reiterate that he doesn't have hate for him. However, Kendrick says Drake was the first one to go after his family and he couldn't let it slide. He once again calls for Drake to take the mask off. Then says this isn't a rap battle anymore, tells Drake he is fighting himself.

Epilogue (All eyes on him)

And so here we are, waiting for what will happen next.

Drake posted an Instagram story denying the claim he has another kid. But given what happened with Pusha T, we can't quite take his word for it yet. We should wait a bit to see if anything comes out.

Kendrick hasn't put out a statement on Drake's claims about him but given the recurring theme of Drake being a manipulative lier, Kendrick clearly denies it. Given how private he is, its difficult to prove or disprove it. Much like Drake's claims, we will have to wait and see if any evidence comes out about it.

Drake and Kendrick stans are at eachothers throats right now, arguing over who one and whats real or fake.

Right now everyone is looking to see if Drake is going to continue the battle or stay silent like he did with Pusha.

My Theory

Personally as an outside observer who only followed the beef for good music. I think this goes beyond a simple rap battle.

Here is my theory: Someone from Drake's clique told Kendrick that Drake and his producers were writing something about him. Real or fake, Kendrick was pissed. And so he drafted 3 tracks, dumping everything he hates about Drake into them. And then, with the leaker's help, Kendrick baited Drake into a battle, goading Drake to drop the "Family Matters" track so he can shut the battle down with "Meet the Grahams". Or maybe his first 2 tracks were a warning to Drake that if he released a track with lies on him he would reveal he has another kid.

I do think Kendrick initially had good intentions in trying to help Drake be a better person. But maybe the more he learned about Drake the less sympathetic he felt.

But I don't know thats just how I see it.

Thanks for reading my essay. I hope it made sense heh. I encourage healthy discussions in the comments and reblogs please. But everyone agrees that Drake is inappropriate with young girls. We won't argue over that.

#Will you have no idea how bad i needed to do this #pusha t #drake #kendrick lamar #i finally have my thoughts in order #i recommended listening to the tracks while reading this just for more context #im worried i look biased toward Kendrick here because i break down his lyrics more #but i swear that isnt the case #drake spent alot of time calling other people out #meaning less lines for him to go in on kenny

[another-lost-mc]

Shower Thoughts: Their bathing habits, with and without you.

Featuring: The Demon Brothers x gn!Reader

NSFW // Content: Domestic fluff and non-explicit smut. Sharing a bath/shower together; sexual and non-sexual touching; mentions of teasing, semi-public sex (showering together in the RAD locker room), penetration (Reader receiving).

A/N: Shaking off the rust. I blame the new Nightmare cards by the way. I wanted to write this for the OCs and figured I should show some of the others some love too. Like always, my fav bias is showing. (Most of Asmo's section is based on things that occur in the bath scene of Desperation.)

LUCIFER

Showering is part of his morning routine - he wants to look and feel his best, his pride won't settle for anything less. (Plus, it helps wake him up for mornings when coffee alone won't do the trick.)

Baths are a rare luxury for him. Ideally, he'll have the house (and your company) all to himself so he can soak in the fragrant bubbles without worrying about what his brothers are getting up to.

(The fact that they're not home and loose in the Devildom is just as worrying, please try to distract him.)

He's not against the idea of shower sex, but it can be cramped and awkward. He would rather tease you with gentle, lingering touches that leave you both a little hot and desperate before leading you to bed where he can enjoy you properly. He's surprisingly unconcerned about getting his bedsheets wet when it means having you naked and willing underneath him as soon as possible.

MAMMON

Mammon usually showers at night. He'd rather have the extra time to sleep in the mornings before class. If he has to work or has a photoshoot, he's definitely showering before bed - he and his bedding are a mess from sticky, gel-caked hair and the eye makeup he didn't remove properly if he doesn't.

He doesn't usually take baths - too boring, too slow - but if you like taking baths...well.

Whether he's in the shower with you or the tub with you, he's open for anything and everything you might want to do. Even an innocent suggestion for a romantic shower or bath together turns dirty quickly when his eyes and hands start to roam across so much exposed, wet skin.

LEVIATHAN

For a self-proclaimed otaku, his showering habits aren't that bad.

Sure, maybe before you came along, he spent less time worrying about his grooming and personal hygiene and more time worrying about his idols' stream schedules and pre-sale ticket dates for the various movies or concerts he wanted to see.

However, you're here now and you're important to him, so whether he wants to admit it or not, that changes things. If he wants you to hang out in his room for hours at a time gaming or binge-watching anime, both him and his room need to be in guest-ready shape.

He showers more often when he's been cooped in his room on the sofa or in his fashionable-but-not-functional gaming chair that makes his back sweat. Even a quick cool-off rinse in the shower is enough to leave him looking and feeling refreshed which is perfect - he hopes he can convince you to cuddle with him in his tub after.

Maybe it's his natural affinity for water, but he enjoys showering or bathing equally. It's tricky when most tubs aren't big enough for him to spread out with his tail out too, but thankfully they're big enough for you to fit in the tub with him which is just as good - better, even!

He's shy with you in the shower or tub. He prefers to stand behind you so he's not tempted to stare at your chest (or lower). No one touches him as gently or with more care as you do. And the way you run your hands along the scales of his tail or his neck...he's going to try and hide his twitching erection from you and hope you don't say anything if you notice it. He can't help how good you make him feel, but he's not always confident enough to return the favour.

If you want him to touch you, you'll probably have to explicitly ask him to - and wouldn't you know it, your hands resting on his while you guide them to move over your body is one of many acts of intimacy he ends up craving from you.

SATAN

He showers in the morning. He's one of the few student council members that wears his uniform properly and I think he wants the rest of him to look and smell good too.

He enjoys a nice bath once in a while. Maybe not as much as Asmo, but they're a semi-regular part of his routine. He can load up the bath tray with a book, even a cup of coffee or snack if he's feeling peckish that night; time passes in a blue as he soaks away some of the stress that burdens him. If you join him for a bath, he'd love to read to you or simply hold you against his chest while music streams from his D.D.D. nearby.

Showers are useful if he's in a rush, or maybe he just wants to rinse off the day's grime (especially if he was at the club or in a fight). Or perhaps he's not in a rush after all, judging by the way he ushers you into the bathroom with him and tugs at your clothing so you can join him under the warm spray.

Whether he simply wants to melt under your fingers as you work suds into his hair and across his body, or if your naked body so close to his is too much temptation to ignore, know that you're probably the only one who gets to see him - all of him - exposed this way.

ASMODEUS

It's no secret that the Avatar of Lust adores his private bathroom, with its high ceiling and numerous cupboards full of fluffy towels and bottles full of the most expensive haircare and body wash and massage oils that Grimm can buy.

His luxurious tub - if you can call it that, considering it's bigger than any hot tub you've ever been in before - is full of fragrant, crystal-clear water that Asmo adds scented oils and skin-softening potions to. No matter how long you bathe together, the water remains clean and warm (there's a handy spell for that).

Asmo loves the intimacy of pampering you and having you do the same for him. It's almost magical, the way he massages you with slow, rhythmic strokes as he washes you with beauty products he personally selects. He considers your preferences above his own so that everything he brings into the bath is scented with your favourite fragrant notes. If you share his bed that night, he can smell you on his pillow and sheets long after you've parted ways.

Naturally, once he's spent his time spoiling you with his tender touches and whispered affection, he's desperate to have your hands on him next.

Bathing doesn't always have to lead to more than soft, teasing touches. He's not against the idea - it wouldn't be the first time his fingers teased between your legs while he nuzzled the back of your neck and nipped at your ear - but this sort of comfort is like divinity to him. It's a sort of worship he offers you that he's offered no one else before, and no matter how much the outside world demands your attention (or his), this is one rare opportunity where you can truly be alone together.

BEELZEBUB

Beel's shower routine is fairly simple. 1. Shower after Fangol practice or games. 2. Shower after eating at a buffet-style restaurant. 3. Shower before bed if nothing else applies.

Of course, Beel learns that there's a certain charm to showering with you too. He used to complain the communal shower he shares with his siblings is a bit too cramped for his liking, and with you it's even worse, but that's simply a convenient excuse to press himself against you while he hardens against your back, or he cages you against the wall while his arms block everything else from view.

(The open showers in the locker room at the Fangol pitch are fun in their own way when post-victory showers with Beel turn frisky from giddy excitement and too much adrenaline to burn.)

Showering is simply a part of his routine, but like most things he does, Beel thinks they're more enjoyable when he can entice you to join him.

BELPHEGOR

Belphie's not necessarily lazy - he just prefers to spend his time and energy doing things that are important to him. It's not his fault if that very short list can be summarized as sleeping and spending time with you.

Sleeping is most comfortable when he's clean from the day's sweat and smells - the last thing he wants to do is ruin the attic's cozy little nest by crawling into bed smelling like anyone else but him and you. That means if he's going to shower before bed, he's dragging you with him if you haven't had one already.

Belphie might not be lazy, but that doesn't mean he won't use every trick in the book to convince you to touch him and pamper him as much as possible. He whines that he's too sleepy to fiddle with all the buttons of his RAD blazer, and he smirks like a satisfied cat while you huff at his ridiculousness and help undress him anyway.

(He knows you indulge him because you like it too - did you think he wouldn't notice the way your eyes roam his bare chest or the way your fingers twitch excitedly when you reach for his belt?)

Shower or bath sex is a bit messy and not as relaxing as he would like - the tiles are hard and cool against your back, it's hard to prep you properly in the tub as water sloshes against the sides and spills over the floor. It's inconvenient and not the sexiest experience in his opinion.

However. The shower is an excellent place to tease you with an innocent pout on his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Lips trail lazily along whatever bare, wet skin they can reach while greedy fingers prepare you for something bigger once you're finally in bed together, moving together lazily in the sheets and putting off cleaning the mess until morning.

(And even if Belphie gets a little carried away in the shower as he stretches you with his fingers or his mouth, or possibly his cock if he's that riled up, the clean-up has never been easier.)

Read more: Obey Me! Masterlist

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #x reader #gn!reader

[wandasfifthwife]

such a bad girl ₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺

— wandanat x fem/afab!reader

༺ tw || SMUT MDNI, hot tub sex, dom!wandnat, sub!reader, top!wandanat, bottom!reader, threesome, making out in a moving car, mean dom!wanda for a minute, degration/praise, dom/sub relationship, reader is described to be wearing a scandalous bathing suit that’s easy for them to undo, mention that W has a glass of wine (no drinking description), r’s neediness changes her shy personality, fingering (v & anal ; r receiving), mention of oral if you squint, exhibition kink if you squint, grinding, orgasm denial, NOT PROOFREAD

༺ a/n || I’ve never personally been in a dom/sub relationship, so if I get things wrong that’s why! If you’re getting into one— don’t use this as a guide/reference

— 🌷masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ 3.9k words₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part 🌻—

Their text coming in during your long shift was a savior because if not for it you would’ve collapsed. None of your designs were accepted. Each time it got rejected you felt your motivation slip from you, the negative tension in the building getting to you. That was until Natasha’s contact information came in. It was as simple as ever, but it made you smile. The text read, “pack a small suitcase and meet us at our apartment at 7PM.”

It sparked an interest in you to do your best despite the recurring turn out. The knowledge of a weekend trip with them was exciting, providing you with a sense of purpose to finish the day well. You pulled your suitcase out of hiding after arriving home, stuffing in whatever clothes looked most appealing.

Your phone then dings, home screen lighting up to show her second text reading, “pack a swimsuit.”

At the time you didn’t think much of it, packing whichever one was at the top and throwing it almost the other strewn together outfits. Once it was reaching the edges you shut it, dragging it behind you. Natasha was the first to see you, smiling up at you when you enter into their apartment room.

“Hi kitten—how was work?”

“Oh, it was fine,” you slide your shoes off, “where’s Wanda?”

“Working in our bedroom.”

Her words have you looking over to their room, finding the skinny white door shut. She pats the seat beside her on the couch, adjusting the laptop on her lap for you to see.

“Wanda has an event in the mountains and during her time there they’re paying for her stay at this cabin.”

Natasha flips through the pictures, stoping when you point out the hot tub, “is that why you asked me to bring a swimsuit?”

“Might as well take advantage of it seeing as we get it all to ourselves for a day.”

“How far is it?”

“About a two hour, thirty minute drive. I’ll be driving a majority of the time since Wanda will have to work.”

She shuts her laptop, setting it aside so she can guide you to lay your head on her lap. You shiver at the feeling of her fingers moving lightly around your neck, drawing chills down your back.

“Wanda has an important call to take during our drive—you’ll need to stay quiet for her, understand?”

“Okay.”

When she doesn’t say anything after you fear you’ve upset her. You crane your neck to look at her, finding her eyes set on yours. The expression on her face tells you what’s going unsaid.

“Okay, daddy.”

She hums, leaning to press a kiss to your lips. Neither of you wish to pull away after, enjoying the small moment of intimacy. Any chance to deepen the kiss flies out the window when Wanda returns.

She looks to her watch, “we have to leave now if we want to make it to the cabin before sundown.”

She greets you both with a quick kiss as she works to remove her work coat.

“Did you pack everything you need?”

“Yes,” you point to the corner of the room where your suitcase lies, “I packed everything you asked me to.”

Ans you had, everything that lied packed away in the suitcase was what they asked for you to bring. Everything was, but you’re unsure about the specific contents of the items mentioned—such as your bathing suit. You’re excited as well as nervous to see their reactions if you ever end up utilizing the hot tub.

Natasha took both hers and your suitcase to the car, denying you any chance of carrying it yourself. The garage is connected to their apartment complex. It’s a public garage, each spot set to each individual resident. Their car was left on third floor, to the right of the elevator.

“Where do you want me for the drive?”

Wanda looks up from her phone momentarily, “uh—I prefer it if you sit up front so I can set up in the back. I need to use the charging ports.”

Once Natasha’s finished putting the suitcases in the back she slides in the drivers seat. Her hand lies behind your seat so she can look behind, helping her back the car out from the spot.

“My meeting isn’t until four thirty. Once it’s over I’ll verbally say when you can begin to speak again,” Wanda says from the back, sounds of the keyboard clicking as she gets situated.

“How’re you feeling,” Natasha asks her, looking back at her through the rearview mirror.

“I honestly just want this to be over with, this company has miserable employees. Anything I send out they never respond until days later and then they blame us for the problems they’ve been coming up.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds rough,” you add.

“Not your fault,” she gives you a short smile.

Natasha makes short conversation with you, asking about random things and laughing at some of your answers. You keep looking back at Wanda, feeling guilty about the way her eyebrows are furrowed.

“Is there any way I can help you?”

“No,” she sighs, “I’m sorry, I’ll be a lot better tonight once everything is over.”

“Don’t apologize. I just wanted to ask, see if I can help in some way.”

Through the mirror the two make eye contact, one that you can’t decipher. It was too quick for you to come to terms with what was being discussed.

Thirty minutes pass, the countdown until her call coming closer and now is only twenty minutes away. Natasha’s pulled to get gas, wanting to fill up and not stop once you’ve reached the cabin. It was right after she had shut the door that Wanda had begun to speak again.

“Come sit in the back with me.”

It was simple enough. It’s only an invite to come sit with her, but you highly doubt it’s to cuddle. You grow nervous, glancing around at the people wondering about at the gas station. The gas station is large enough, decent amount of distance between each pump, but there were still people. You’re still in public.

“I—Wanda.”

“Wasn’t a question.”

You’re climbing out immediately, avoiding eye contact with anyone who may look over at you. Nothings happened but already you feel like it has, you feel that others could sense the tension arise and how your body’s burning with need.

You sit in the seat by her, separated by the drink console. Her laptop is set on top, the console being used as a makeshift table.

“Look at me,” she says, only continuing after you do, “do you think I want you to sit there?”

“Uh—no, sorry.”

“Then fix your mistake.”

She makes no effort to help and doesn’t look remotely concerned when you have to slide out of the car again to climb in where she’s seated. It’s uncomfortable at first, but you find a comfortable position straddled over her thighs, facing her. It’s a small fit, the positioning forcing you to be pressed up against her body. All it’s done is make you warmer, the heat between your legs growing as you eagerly wait.

“I don’t want a single sound from you,” is all the warning she gives as she begins to pull up the work call. It’s on zoom, and you begin to panic about the video screen.

“Wands, they’ll see—“

“They won’t see,” she says, turning her screen off, “but they can hear. Can you be a good girl for mommy and be quiet?”

You nod and she’s surging forward to connect her lips to yours. Her hands are under your thighs, using her grip to pull you closer onto herself. Wanda’s lips are smooth when brushing against yours, feeling better each time they come back against yours.

A breathy moan escapes when she flicks her tongue against yours, eyes open and set on you. It’s the only sound she allows from you as each one following earns a pinch to your thigh. You wonder if she’s paying any attention to the call seeing as she’s working her way around intentionally to make you squirm.

“—agreed. And Wanda do you have anything to add, you’ve been mighty quiet.”

The call goes silent, everyone shown to be focusing in on her screen for a response. Instead of responding she’s hiking your shirt up, lips glossing over the soft spot on your neck. There’s an attempt made to pull her back to reality, that being tugging at her shirt but it’s misunderstood. She takes it as continue, too far consumed with you to care about some boring work meeting. It wouldn’t go anywhere if she replied, so instead she’s putting in the effort on you—enjoying the way you try and hold back your sounds while the call’s still silent and waiting for Wanda’s reply.

“If you dont reply in the next five seconds we’ll be moving forward,” he says, but her attention is still fixated on you.

She continues her ministrations, playing mind games that get you heated but do not satisfy you. All of Wanda’s needs are met with your quieted reactions—pulling at her hair, gasping into her mouth, grinding your hips down on her thigh for some friction.

“Okay, moving on now—we have a short time together so I hope to see you at each event scheduled while we’re here.”

You’re incredibly thankful the call ends there because if not they would’ve all heard your choked moans—what’s worse is the screen would’ve showed Wanda’s in the middle exposing her. Yet it didn’t happen, you were safe now to whine when she rubs you back and forth on her leg, fingers teasing around your nipples from where they lie under your t-shirt.

Once she realizes the calls ended, she stops everything, pulling back to check her phone. She leaves you sitting on her lap, needy and waiting.

“Don’t be a brat,” she sighs, not looking up from her phone, “I never said I’d get you off.”

She clicks her tongue when you look back at Natasha for sympathy, her fingers gripping your chin and pulling you back to face her.

“She’s not going to do anything because she knows you’re in the wrong. I’ll repeat it again so your little dumb mind can understand—I never said I’d get you off.”

This side of her isn’t helping the heat burning within you, setting a blaze in how harshly she’s treating you. Shes right, and it’s turning your thoughts into nothing.

“Darling,” she says, tapping your cheek with her finger, “how’re you feeling?”

“Good—I’m good.”

She smiles at your confirmation before returning to where she was a second ago. You make a sound of protest when you feel her adjust you on her lap, motioning for you to slide into the seat beside her.

“Sit here and be a good girl for us until we arrive at the cabin.”

“But that’s so long.”

“If you continue to act up I’ll extend it until next week.”

You shut up. The sound of the AC whirring about and the smoothness of the car running lulls you to sleep, head resting against the window. It’s a deep sleep you realize once you’ve awoken to spot the red marks lining your arms. Wanda’s the one who wakes you up with a hand resting on your arm, rubbing the skin softly until she sees you stir.

“We’ve already brought your stuff inside,” she starts, slowing when she notices the slowness in your movements, “wanna be picked up?”

She laughs when you confirm your needs. Natasha comes behind the two of you to shut the front door, asking Wanda about her schedule for the rest of the day.

“There’s really only two today that are mandatory, every other one I can skip. With the others present on this trip, I’d rather stay here.”

Natasha hums, coming by to kiss Wanda quickly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says, laying you down on the bed, “it’s a part of life, can’t avoid stupid people.”

“Am I stupid,” you ask, eyes half open and blearily looking at her, “you called me stupid earlier—so mean.”

“You’re such a tease,” she leans to slap your thigh, smile widening at the sight of you moving away with a laugh.

Natasha sits beside you, watching Wanda wonder about the room. You’re still half asleep beside her, looking around the room but always trailing back to the two of them as they discuss a plan. So far it seems you’ll be staying at the cabin with Natasha until Wanda returns, then dinner, and then you have plans to relax here.

“I do have to leave now, but I’ll be back once it’s all over. I’ll send you a text,” is the last thing she says before the front door shuts.

You hear the sheets rustle, feeling Natasha get up. She hears you whine her name out, fingers still holding onto her wrist.

“Sorry,” she kisses your wrist before removing it, “I’m on strike with you too until she’s back.”

“She doesn’t have to know.”

“Still no.”

You groan, sliding off the bed and following suit, “then why, I’m-“

“Don’t care what you are. I’m also in charge,” she starts, rolling your suitcase a short way until it’s in front of you, “take this to our bedroom.”

She points you with a look when you cross your arms, standing stubbornly in your spot.

“Please take it to our room, I’m not doing anything in return. Either that, or I’m moving it to a week.”

“Just wanted a kiss.”

She looks suspicious, but leans in close despite it. She falls for you easily, both of you finding yourself pressing each other up against the corridor’s wall. The wall’s texture is almost engraved into your back with how close she is to you, breasts pressing against yours. You’re growing dizzy, tilting your head to kiss deeper. It’s when you moan that she’s moving back, slowing her movements.

“No!—daddy please, I’m so needy.”

“Later.”

She walks away, something she continues to do for the remainder of your time. You do spend some time together like making a late lunch and cuddling on the couch as Natasha reads a few emails.

The sun’s falling on the horizon when Wanda returns, flinging her high heels off, “sorry, I know I said I’d be here earlier. Have you guys had dinner yet? I already had gone ahead with the team and got some.”

“We made a late lunch, we’re fine,” Natasha responds from the living room. You remove yourself from her hold to find Wanda, hugging around her waist.

“Hi Kitten,” she mumbles against your skin, “how was your one on one time with Natasha?”

“Rude.”

“I’m not rude for sticking to a rule.”

Wanda coos, “needy still?”

Natasha responds for you, listing off your attempts at getting the attention you crave. From how it started in the corridor to where it ended in the kitchen, Natasha settled between your thighs. By now you’re dying, wishing for it to be over and for the two to cave in and sooth the ever growing need.

They don’t give any answer as to when, leaving you to be good despite such a vague answer.

What you hope to happen is a small miracle. There’s a reaction you wish to spark out of the two of them with an outfit packed away in your suitcase. You’re almost in your knees hoping it works. It wasn’t the original plan, the outfit originally was a last minute throw in but now it may be your saving grace. Twenty minutes have passed since Wanda’s arrival, and you’re growing restless. You feel greedy, bad almost to interrupt the two of them but the need has consumed almost every other thought, thighs rubbing against each other after being edged for hours.

The slightest thing is a trigger. Their hand resting on your thigh, seeing the two kiss lovingly, or noticing how the top buttons to Wanda’s blouse has been unbuttoned. It’s entirely possible that they notice the cloudiness in your eyes, your lust for them showing else than your thighs moving against one another.

“Mommy,” you whine, surprised the plea came out loud enough, “can we go in the hot tub?”

“Do you need help getting ready?”

Oh they know about how you’re feeling. The sympathetic expression and tone is welcoming, but it’s not what you’re looking for.

“No,” you state, getting up on shaky legs.

In the zipper compartment you find the swim suit you packed earlier in the day. The fabric left almost nothing to the imagination. It was small, showing more skin than necessary. Originally the outfit was bought with your friend years ago for a trip and since then you’ve not pulled it out as you felt it was too much for most pubic places. But tonight at a private cabin was perfect.

You slide the glass door, stepping out onto the back patio. The wind outside was a tad cold. You tried to warm up by wrapping your arms around the top half of your body. Wanda and Natasha had yet to come out, and you wondered momentarily where they were as you sunk down into the hot water. You sighed once inside, closing your eyes and letting your muscles relax. There were crickets in the back making an appearance.

It was dark save for the white lights in the hot tub, the glow reflecting on the roof above and creating a fun shaky pattern.

“You got ready fast,” Natasha states, keeping the sliding door open for Wanda, “how’s it feel?”

“Amazing.”

She makes her way in, moving at a quicker speed than you had been. After the water has reached past her shoulders, she stands to reach for her phone set on the side of the hot tub. You can’t help the way you watch her, eyes following the water droplet as it trails down her neck and between her breasts. It’s entirely attractive, reeling you over the edge.

“‘tasha.”

She hums, looking over from her phone when you’ve gone quiet. What she finds is a mess, eyes darkened and chest heaving air in. The moving jets create enough conflict in the water, the bubbles hiding the swim suit you have on. You’re just above the water for her to already notice how far down your swimsuit goes, cleavage already on show for her.

“Fuck what’re you wearing?”

“Why don’t you come over here and find out.”

Her eyes come to match yours. She’s shutting her phone off, moving towards you. With how you’re sitting she’s towering over you, using it to her advantage when she leans down to connect her lips with yours. You’re moving to lock your arms around her neck, hoping with every part of you that she’ll stay this time till the end. Her fingers trail down your chest, feeling until they bump against the small cloth covering your nipples.

“Could’ve just walked out naked,” she says, slipping it off you and pinching at your hardened buds. You gasp, chest pushing into her. Your movement exposes your neck, giving her room to press featherlight kisses.

“Please—I can’t wait anymore.”

“Need me?”

“Obviously,” you state, wincing after from the pinch she lands on your thigh.

“So mean. Who knew you had this in you.”

She shuts you up when she moves to kiss you breathlessly again. You could kiss her all day and never grow tired of the action, each time she does you feel you’re being poisoned with need. You’re pressing back harder each time until she’s grown tired of your attacks and completely takes over.

Wanda follows about later, closing the door with a huff, “you both let a few moths in.”

There’s a moment of realization. The wet sounds and gasps, also the image reflecting in the door all bring her to turn around and witness it in real time. She had been too focused on not spilling her wine she glazed over how the two of you were connected, wrapped in each other.

She sets her glass down on a table, rounding the hot tub to sit behind you. The wooden floor of the patio is cold, but it’s bearable with the bit of hot water splashed out from the tub due to the two of you. You gasp in Natasha’s mouth when she lifts you up, sitting you on the edge of the hot tub.

It’s overwhelming feeling the both of them touch you. Natasha’s hands slipping under your bottoms to push them off, Wanda spreading you open. You fluster, hands moving to cover yourself. Natasha shushes you, gentle removing your hands.

“You’re beautiful,“ is all she says, eyes focusing in on your cunt. It’s drenched, but it’s hard to tell seeing as you were just lying in the tub a second ago.

You’re resting back on Wanda’s chest, legs resting on either side of Wanda’s thighs. Your bathing suit top rests lazily on you, clothes moved to the side so both can see how puffy Natasha’s sucked and rubbed the skin.

Wanda leans in close to your ear, “what do you need.”

“You, both of you—”

“How?”

“Don’t care, please—oh!”

Natasha takes the ‘don’t care’ literally, finger moving to press and rub against your clit. After hours of being stimulated, just a bit of friction brings you into your heavy mindset. Natasha runs her fingers around your puffy lips, gathering the wetness there and pushing it up against your clit again. She draws her finger lower, confusing you for a second until it circles your other hole.

“Fuck wait—!”

It’s too late, her finger’s already pushing through. The size of her single finger already provided such a stretch. She wiggles it around, eyes entranced by how you pull her in.

“When did you last finger yourself here?”

You look at her, eyes teary and almost feeling guilty, “last night.”

She hums, already moving cleared with adding another finger. You take it easy, hole wrapping around her fingers. Wanda’s moving her left hand, fingers reaching your wet cunt to draw the wetness onto your clit, circling it to provide a stronger sense of pleasure as Natasha continues her ministrations.

You’re flinging your head back on Wanda’s shoulder, gasping, “ah! Oh—please! please!”

Wanda’s hesitant, fingers hovering over your entrance until you nod. The second hers slide in, the pleasure is melting you into the floor. Nothing but how good they’re making you feel flooding your mind. They both have two fingers in, pressing in hard and fast. You’re gripping Wanda’s hand, broken ‘ahs’ spilling from you with each deep thrust.

“Ah-ah! Feel so good, ah!”

“Needy slut,“ Natasha mumbles, pressing her fingers up so they collide slightly with Wanda’s.

They don’t string you high this time, leaving you alone with your near-orgasm. Wanda’s finger is moving fast, the added rubbing brings you to your orgasm faster. It was sudden, two thrusts later and you’re wetting their hands until it drips into the water below.

You pant, fingernails still digging into Wanda’s wrist as you come down from your first high of the night. Wanda’s frustration from work leads her to fuck you mercilessly in the shower after, energy and lust on similar levels to you. Natasha’s since passed out, snores sounding from her in the bedroom when you and Wanda creep back in.

“Moving forward, I’m adding a rule—in the morning we can confirm with Natasha if she wants to make a dual rule,” she whispers, chills appearing in your body from how gentle she rubs your shoulders.

“What is it?”

“Can’t touch yourself without our permission.”

“I didn’t do that today?”

“No, but it wasn’t specified so at the time you could’ve but you chose to be good and listen and wait.”

“Because I only want you, only you satisfy me.”

— 🌷masterlist ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ taglist below₊✩°｡⋆˚ ⁺ next part🌻 —

@simpforlizzie @maggieromanov @angelbeingatitspurest @cerberus-spectre @olicity-boo @huggingkoalas @wandasbunnyy @babykingslayer @marigoldenblooms @godhatesgoodgirls @evmaximoff @tobiaslut @lzzysfreak @caporaI-nino @mommysfavouritegirl @gemz5 @dorabledewdroop @foxherder @madamevirgo @natashaswife4125 @peaceitsnaee @radcherryblossompainter @sagesayshi

#baby I’m yours series #wandanat x reader #wandanat x you #wandanat x y/n #wandanat #Wanda Maximoff #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Wanda x reader #wanda x reader smut #Natasha x reader #natasha x reader smut #natasha x y/n #wanda x nat x reader #wanda x natasha x reader #natasha x wanda x reader #natasha x you #wanda x you #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x you #marvel #marvel Wanda #marvel Natasha #dom wanda #dom natasha #top Wanda #top Natasha #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader

[drdemonprince]

potentially triggering but ultimately harm reductionist statement about how people treat those with suicide ideation below, just a warning!

it's pretty fuckin rich that people tell suicidal people that they're "being selfish" by wanting to die, because it could not be more selfish to expect someone to just continue suffering through a life they do not want simply because their death would make them sad.

the people who say that kind of thing never want to offer any genuine help to the suicidal person that will change their life circumstances in a lasting way. they never want to house them, get them medical care, pay off their debts, introduce them to new friends, nurse them through a years-long trauma recovery process, get them a pet, drive them to a support group every week, buy them their groceries, clean their house, listen to them talk about their tough feelings for the millionth time.

lasting healing within a dramatically different and better life is never what they want for the suicidal person. they just want the person to not do anything that would make them sad. and not look too sad when they are around them, either, because even if they do white-knuckle their way through a painful existence, they are expected to also make it look easy.

but it's funny, isn't it, that by pushing away all thoughts of sadness, all thoughts of suicide, the person who says such a dismissive thing to the suicidal person is revealing how much they are on the brink of despair themselves. if, when faced with a suicidal person, your number one goal is to prevent their suicide for the sake of your own emotions rather than to improve circumstances for the suicidal person themselves, well, your own emotional grip on reality must be quite tenuous indeed. if you think the most important emotionally reality about a suicide is how it impacts you and not the person that has done it, well, you really must think that it's normal to expect other people to just constantly silently suffer for one another.

there's almost a bit of sick envy that i sometimes hear when people claim that they suicidal are "selfish." the statement almost seems to betray that everybody thinks of suicide at one point or another, that everyone has been in enough pain before that they've wished for it to end, but that since they have endured, they expect everyone else to endure the same for them, so that they don't slip into despair again as well.

it's so offensive because it is such a deeply missed opportunity. instead of batting away the statements of a suicidal person as if they were the greatest, most evil taboo, a person could really sit with them in their despair and say hey, I have felt that way too.

If only we lived in a world where acknowledgement of suicide ideation was not so taboo. Even psychologists and psychiatrists treat it as this untouchable thing, they freak out and jump into action and rob you of your body autonomy if you are willing to voice that you have thought of it. but virtually everyone has thought of it at one point or another, and some live with thoughts of it all the time forever but still have basically decent lives that they experience as worthwhile.

the legal apparatus that exists to prevent suicides at all costs have made it too risky for any kind of healthcare professional to allow the frank acknowledgement of suicide ideation to happen. hell, even the protections that have evolved online to supposedly "protect" suicidal people by filtering out content about suicide and redirecting those browsing for information about it to suicide prevention resourcse has, counterproductively, served to make the state of suicidality even more unspeakable. it cannot be spoken about, cannot be posted about, cannot be acknowledged, is not permitted, is never allowed to just be.

and that harms suicidal people so much.

we are so deeply selfish and cowardly in how we approach suicide and suicidal people.

[born-in-hell]

Hi!

As some of you might know, southern Brazil, specifically the state of Rio Grande do Sul, has been struck by heavy rains and a consequential flood. The rains started on monday (29/abr) and only stopped today (5/mai), in Porto Alegre ─ the state capital, and the city i live in ─ and in the other cities nearby.

The lake that borders PoA (named Guaíba) has reached more than 5m up its normal level. This is higher than on the historic 1941 flood. The city's center ─ a big residential and commercial hub, beyond being the host of most of our public services (such as the city hall and the state government) ─ is completely taken by the water. Many other neighbourhoods were also affected.

Smaller cities that also border Guaíba were even more heavily affected, such as Eldorado do Sul, whose territory was almost 100% flooded.

The state is, for a lack of a better word, abandoned by the people that were supposed to aid.

Our governor, Eduardo Leite, is more worried about his plitical campaign ─ making dramatic videos, changing his facebook pfp to one of him with a public defense vest, making streams with no useful information ─ than with the people's lives. This year, he destinated only R$50.000 (~ USD250.000) for the Civil Defense. For the entire year. He is now, delegating the responsibility of recuperating our state to the Federal Government, stating that "the rbuilding of the RS will demand a Marshall Project".

Porto Alegre's mayor, Sebastião Mello, has vanished. He sold our city out to big enterprises ─ Melnick, Zaffari and Panvel, mainly ─, and hasn't destined any public resources to maintaining the Mauá wall (a wall built after the 1941 flood with a system made to protect the city from other floods), which caused many points to fail and the water to invade the city.

This is the danger we all face with a neoliberal system.

Neoliberalism is an individualist ideology. All these people and companies I named did close to nothing to help us. Or even made it worse. The Civil Defense, for example, published a map of all the areas that would be affected, but had to take it back, since it didn't consider the topography.

Its the people for the people.

This situation is being aided by people using their own resources. Donations of various natures and volunteer work. It is very beautiful, in a way. It shows that colaboration and union can do great things. It shows, at least to me, that the world can reach, one day, a self sustaining way of living, contrary to the ultra-individualistic capitalism some preach. Humans can, and are, good.

But it also lays out how much the people that govern us failed us.

Human lives were lost because of their negligency.

This flood isn't normal. It is a product of the huge levels of degradation multi-billionaire companies are causing the world, supported by higher class and their representatives. Eduardo Leite changed almost 500 points of our state's Environmental Code, for the worst, when he was first elected in 2019. His actions, and the actions of all other neoliberal politicians, such as our ex-president Bolsonaro, are what created this situation. They are responsible for everything that is going on here.

This flood isnt the only environmental crisis this state has faced in the last 6 months. This isn't the last one that will happen.

This text is, beyond a personal vent, a warning. We need to keep fighting against a system that is actively trying to kill us. Please, do not support ideals and people ─ especially if said people will rule you ─ that go against the environment, that preach that the capital, the money, the posesions, are more important than lives. Of the people, of the animals, of the environment. Fight for a better world, i know there can be one.

Always be aware of the climate in your areas. Things like this won't happen only here. Please be safe.

Sorry for the long post.

If you're interested in donating, @decaf-lesbian made this post with some links for international and national donations.

-> If you're from Brasil, check this link, that has a copilation of maps of risk areas, shelters, places to donate to, etc, made by a UFRGS student.

#rio grande do sul #brasil #enchentes #i dont know how to tag this #im sorry #if theres any typos im also sorry i wrote this in one siting i dont usually do that since i like to reread and double check

[schattenhonig]

The A in LGBTQIA+ doesn't stand for aspec because they're not repressed!

(please read the disclaimer at the end of this post)

Ummm, excuse me? Would you mind telling me what your definition of repression is, then?

Because I feel repressed when a doctor asks me about my sex life, and if I say I have none, it gets marked down as a symptom without being asked if I suffer from it.

I feel repressed when my gyn tells me I can't get a hysterectomy yet despite losing so much blood on every period that I need to take iron supplements all the time, because I could change my mind about not wanting children (which is a whole other post, I know, but it's most likely linked to sex).

I feel repressed if I can't use dating apps or platforms because my sexuality doesn't even exist there, and the one time I tried, I got called names because I didn't want to meet for because it was clear where this date would go, despite my explicit "what I'm looking for".

I feel repressed when I think about how recently a paragraph was finally abolished in my country that considered sex a vital part of a marriage, basically entitling the spouses to having sex with their partner (both gender neutral, because entitling people to having sex with somebody else by law is wrong. It's basically a rape permission).

I feel repressed when I can't watch any film or show without it being about love and/or sex, no matter if it fits the narrative and furthers the plot.

I feel repressed when I plot my own stories and automatically put a romantic couple in there as main characters, even though I have no idea why this would be important for the plot. Not even my own stories, my own thoughts are mine.

I felt repressed when I was asked accusingly in a relationship if I wasn't missing something before I even knew asexuality as a spectrum was a thing, and having to lie about this being a side effect of my medication instead of genuinely not feeling attracted to someone in this way.

I feel repressed when I can't tell people I'm not sexually attracted to them because they will take this personally no matter how well I explain myself.

I feel repressed when everywhere I look there's advertising relying on naked skin, suggestive posing and objectification. Why are expensive cars still presented by women considered beautiful and tempting? It's not like that's necessary to convince people of spending so much money on a thing that gets you from A to B. Couches with women in smart dresses and high heels. That's not what a normal person looks like on a couch. But the worst is a truck in the town where I live: it's from a small fruit and vegetable stand, so whenever I see it, it comes from the warehouse, delivering groceries. On it is a woman clad in very little, presenting fruit. I'm sorry, but why? Does a misogynistic picture convince you of the necessity to avoid scurvy?

I feel repressed when I tell people and get the answer "you just haven't found the right person yet", because there are two possible assumptions from that point: I'm either not trying hard enough (so it's basically my own fault) or something about me is not right, appalling even (which circles back to I'm not trying hard enough or frames me as a victim of my genetics, upbringing or circumstances to be pitied).

Do not tell me how I feel. Do not try to tell me everything is fine and I shouldn't complain or ask for acknowledgement if everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how odd, how weird and how not normal I am. How much it inconveniences you to even acknowledge my existence, let alone respect any of my traits, views and choices.

And while I can only write from my own asexual point of view, I wrote this with all kinds of flavours of aspec in mind, so I'm explicitly including aromantics, aroace people and every shade of the spectrum in this. Not all my examples may apply to you, but I hope you can find something to relate to.

#asexuality #somewhat of a vent #asexual #ace pride #ace #acespec #aromantic #aroace #read disclaimer at the end of post #aspec

[onsomenewsht]

She may be the song that summer sings

About the time you look at her, she laughs, and you keep literally falling with each other

》 Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

》 word count: +1.2k

》 La guardavo e m'innamoravo

Accepting Barcelona’s deal on a summer day during your vacation is really not that difficult of a choice. 

The tropical island you’re on for the off-season is treating you even better than the season itself - and you managed to win the domestic treble with your club, so saying it was a good year may be an understatement. 

When your agent’s number appears on your phone one morning, too early to be acceptable, you’re tempted to refuse the call altogether and blame the remote resort you’re in. Then you remember you’re out of contract for the first time since you started playing professional football at the impressive age of 16 and the idea of hearing the woman’s voice is suddenly very exciting.

“You know it is barely six in the morning here, right?”

“Yes, but the sun is up in Barcelona”

“You’re in Barcelona?”, you ask, still not functioning enough to realise what she’s implying.

“Not yet”

As the saintly woman she is, despite the time difference and being an entire ocean away from you, your agent manages to wake you up enough to have you on the phone with a Barcelona’s representative just an hour later. 

Cutting your vacation short is not a big deal after that, too eager to be on the first flight to Spain and have an in person conversation about your future. You’re ready to sign without even reading through the contract properly, but thanks to your people’s rational response to your trepidation, you manage to negotiate a deal worth your actual value. 

There was no chance you’d have accepted an offer for any other club anyway.

You meet Aitana that same day on your way out of the club’s offices. 

She radiates pure joy and genuine excitement, greeting you with a hug as you’re long time friends who finally reunite. At that point, you’d count on one hand the previous encounters you two had on and off the pitch.

This is the first time you’re close to her long enough to realise how enchanted by her you are, captivated by her effortless charm.

“I can’t wait to see you in pre-season”, she says with a cute accent around her words and a knowing grin on her face.

“I haven’t sign anything yet”

“You will!”

The Catalan rushes her goodbyes, late for a meeting herself.

“At least try to not drool”, your agent says suddenly, startling you.

You totally forget she’s next to you in the first place.

~

The next time you run into Aitana, you literally run into her. 

Trying to avoid a pissed Lucy Bronze, who you waist no time to tease for the surprisingly low rate of success she has against you when you both played in the WSL, you’re too distracted by her sprint to notice Aitana on your path.

You trample over the midfielder, making sure to soften her landing as you both fall down with a mixture of giggles and legs.

“Could you not threaten the old lady’s knees and the well-being of our Ballon d’Or winner this early in the season?”

You haven’t seen Keira walking beside the Catalan, who is still trying to catch her breath with both her hands on the sides of your head. She has a really beautiful smile.

“You have a two time Ballon d’Or winner right there, you will be fine”, you retort while pointing at Alexia, gaze still fixed on the brunette on top of you. 

Aitana’s response comes in the form of an even louder laugh. 

It takes you a moment to realise you’re the only one still on the ground, more and more of your new teammates gathering around you with questioning smiles on their faces.

“¡Val, benvinguda a Barça!”

~

Picking up a new language is never easy, but you had no idea learning Spanish could be so difficult.

The club provides you with an excellent - but most important, patience - teacher. Yet, you’re struggling to come up with simple and coherent sentences. It’s getting on your nerves. 

The girls are nice enough to talk in English when you’re around, but you want to be able to understand your manager’s instructions during practice and games or just order on your own when you’re out.

Aitana notices right away your discomfort whenever your teammates slip into their mother language without malice, cutting you out. You know she doesn’t like to speak English if she absolutely does not have to, but she always slows down her excitement to let you rejoin the conversation.

You mean it as a joke, asking her to help with your Spanish.

The sportscaster just thanked you for your time after a Champions League’s game. The Catalan answered some questions, but happily let you take the lead as you didn’t ignore a subtle implication hidden in a comment from the studio broadcasting the interview.

She seems so happy about the idea of teaching you that you have no intention to correct her assumption.

“You’re talking too fast again, Tana”

“Esto es exactamente– no, en realidad, no es verdad!”

Your raised eyebrow and her half finished sentences make her frown in realisation, just a little defeated by not being able to turn you into a fluent speaker in the amount of time she tutored you. 

It’s been barely a month.

“Your Spanish is awful”, she declares, dropping the elementary grammar book between you two on the sofa to cross her arms.

“I have a shitty teacher”

“Don’t you dare!”

The tickle battle you started ends pretty quickly when she pins you on your back, fallen on the ground with loud laughs filling your apartment. The midfielder may be shorter than you, but any display of her actual strength it’s always a surprise.

“Take it back”

“Or what?”

“Or I stop teaching you”

“Bold to you to assume that’s not exactly what I want”

It’s not, it’s definitely not what you want. The afternoons she spends in your apartment are the highlights of your week and what you look forward to after a particularly intense day. Even if you understand very little of what she says most of the time.

“Mentirosa”

“Ah! I know what that means”

Aitana drops her fake disappointment to join your giggles, helping you sit back on the sofa and picking up the book to resume her lesson.

“¡Ándale, I’m turning you into a proper spaniard!”

“I thought you were turning me into an independentista”

You know that could spark a fire into her, loving the way the brunette sits upright to start speaking with great passion about all the things you absolutely need to know about Barcelona, Catalonia, the culture and the people, even how you should be learning Catalan too.

She slips into her mother language pretty early in her dissertation, you’re too enchanted by her excitement to point it out.

The rest of the afternoon is filled with Aitana’s enthusiasm and your never ending fondness.

~

It takes you an entire year of double lessons and the immense amount of patience of your actual teacher to be able to hold your own in a Spanish conversation.

Sometimes your teammates still have to speak in English with you, but you don’t feel cut out anymore if they rant slow enough and you can be left on your own devices around the city.

You’re able to ask Aitana out on a date in Spanish, surprising her with yellow weavers and red poppies as you pick her up at her place. You put an effort to speak the language for the entire day, driven by her infectious laugh and your intertwined hands.

~

fine.

#woso x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #woso #ab14 #barcelona femeni #barcelona women #here we go again

[kasagia]

Right Hand V

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: The Bene Gesserit has something... very interesting to show you—something that only makes you question your situation more. During this time, Feyd is also put to a great test. But how much can your relationship endure before you both come to the conclusion that maybe you're not meant to be together? Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART IV ~•♤♤♤•~ PART VI ~•♤♤♤•~

Dreams have a strange power. You can see your future and past in them. You can drift between dreamland and the real world and be semi-aware of your surroundings. You can create a new reality that is more tempting than your real life. Dreams can be either your sweet escape from reality or your dark oppressor.

For you, dreams were reminders of what had been, ghosts of the past, catching you in your most vulnerable state. But this time, you weren't dreaming about your past.

You were in Giedi Prime. You walked through familiar corridors, hiding from the Harkonnens' eyes. It was rare to meet anyone in these corridors. Most of them were dead ends with secret passages that were unknown to most of the inhabitants of Giedi Prime. That's why you were terribly surprised when suddenly someone pulled you by your cloak.

You freeze, startled, and turn slowly to face the small child. The kid looks like Harkonnen's child, but not quite. His skin is creamier than white, and white hair grows on his head in unruly curls. But what you recognised perfectly were the blue, bright irises that only one person could boast on Gieidi Prime.

"Mommy!" A boy around 5 years old runs up to you and hugs your legs as you look at him in shock and confusion. “Dad said he would take us on a trip! To Lankiveil! We will swim in a real lake! Can you imagine that?!” – he asks excitedly and holds out his hands to you. You automatically scoop him up into your arms and place him on your hip, trying to figure out what the hell is happening.

Someone's quick footsteps echo in the corridor. You look past the child and see one of the harpies approaching you. She breathed a sigh of relief and bowed to you when she saw the boy in your arms.

"You can't run away like that, my lord Na-Baron. The baron told us to look after you."

"I didn't run away. I quickly left to find my mom. Dad wanted to speak with her. Besides, it's not my fault that you're so slow." Both you and the woman next to you do everything in your power not to burst out laughing. You smile, burying your face in your "son's" hair. He was so damn similar to his father and you.

The boy jumps out of your arms and grabs your hand. He runs with you through familiar corridors and hidden passages, not caring if you can keep up with him.

This way, you are in the war room in just a few seconds. Feyd stands with his back to you, analysing something on the hologram of the planets in front of him. He doesn't even flinch when the secret passage closes behind you with a bang.

"Dad, I brought mom." Your boy announces proudly, leading you to Feyd. The man turns and runs his hand through your son's hair. The little one smiles, showing a series of night-black teeth... with small cavities. He looked so damn cute. Like a little version of his father...

"Good job, Feydor. At least you are able to find your mother in her shadows. Go, torment your uncle. I've heard that you promised Rabban a great fight after our lessons." Feyd says teasingly, wrapping his arm around your waist. You roll your eyes at his comment about shadows, but you can't help but watch his interactions with your son in fascination.

Feyd was rarely around children; on Giedi Prime, they were quite... not shown much. They were a temporary inconvenience rather than a source of pride, and the noblest and most important of the inhabitants rarely cared for their own descendants. The nannies and servants usually took care of them. That's why you observed with admiration how soft and tender he was towards the boy, who was a living mix of both of you.

"I did! I can't wait to use the voice on him. I love you, dad. I love you, mom." He hugs you and practically runs to the training room, looking forward to training with his uncle.

"Just don't humiliate your uncle too much! And remember to turn on your shield!" Feyd shouts after him, and you feel like crying at the worried and caring look on his face. You've never seen him like this. Well, not when the two of you were in no danger. "In moments like these, I feel sorry for Rabban. He has to face a deadly mix of both of us. Devious beast, just like us. It doesn't matter that Rabban is not using all his strength against him; he would have defeated him anyway with his tactical mind and the tricks he learned from you. I need to start training with him so that he doesn't become too arrogant and self-confident after his numerous victories over Rabban. He must always be alert and ready for his opponent."

Honestly, you're not listening carefully to what he's saying. You are shocked by this new reality in which you find yourself. It was too surreal for you. But you couldn't stop your heart from fluttering as he spoke about his son with such tenderness and pride. Your son.

"What's wrong? You look pale. Are you two alright? You had unusual cravings again, and now you regret what you ate?" The concern in his eyes confuses you even more. He places his hand tenderly on your stomach and watches you carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort as you wonder what the hell happened to make him... like this. It must have been your imagination. This couldn't be any vision of your future, because even in your wildest dreams, you had never imagined it to be so... beautiful. "Y/N? Talk to me, my baroness. Should I call a healer?"

"I'm fine." You reply with a smile, shaking your head and placing your hand on his—the one that was still tenderly caressing your small pregnancy belly.

"You sure?" Your lips hurt from smiling as you try your hardest not to cry in front of him with emotion. So you grab him by the neck and pull him in for a kiss.

He caresses your lips so gently and tangles his hand so carefully in your hair that you feel like you're about to cry from the way this rare, soft side of him makes you feel that he so bravely shows you.

"Yes... we... we are perfect." You whisper, resting your forehead against his, not at all referring to yourself and the child. You close your eyes, letting yourself breathe in his scent as he draws patterns with his finger on your stomach, keeping his arm possessively around you.

You wrap your arms around him tightly and bury your face in his neck, holding him as close as you can. He laughs softly and presses a kiss on your temple.

"There you are... I almost forgot how sweetly clingy you are while carrying my heir under your heart. We should've tried for a sister for our Kwisatz Haderach a long time ago." He murmurs against your skin and lazily plays with your hair, massaging your head. "Are you sure you are feeling good? You have been very quiet. Usually, you would throw all sorts of insults and banter at me. It's not too late for you to swallow your pride and admit that you want to give birth on Arrakis or anywhere other than on this polluted planet. Damn what those old hags think of you; it won't make you any less of a Harkonnen."

Your heart swells with every word he says. It takes a lot of strength on your part not to cry in his arms and to keep your voice from shaking as you try to form a coherent sentence.

"I... just promise me you will never let me go." You ask him, not daring to even look at him because you're afraid you'll cry the moment his eyes meet yours.

"You stuck with us, my baroness. Nothing can separate us." He promises it to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and tightening his hold on you. You felt safe. Warm. Loved.

"Good." You mumble, snuggling into him even more. You act as if this is really happening, like this is really supposed to be your life and future.

You have come to the conclusion that it is impossible and unrealistic for Feyd to change like this. The Harkonnens were not soft; they did not lead a tender family life and cared for their wives if they did take one. But in the end, it's your dream. So you sink into his arms, enjoying the sweet words he whispers in your ear and the way he strokes your hair.

Feyd had never been in such a hurry to get to his chambers. His heart was beating fast, and adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he thought about what had happened in those few hours. The baron is missing. He was kidnapped or killed by the Fremen. Feyd was to take his place until they found his uncle's body or the council officially declared him dead.

And Feyd had his suspicions about who could have contributed to the sudden disappearance of his beloved uncle. You couldn't have given him a better birthday present. In fact, you could, and he was practically running back to his chambers to pick it up.

He enters the chambers and immediately senses that it is too quiet there. He tries to dispel any suspicions and enters his bedroom, only to find the bed empty.

“Y/N?” He calls out, knocking on the table a few times to make his presence known. He peeks into the bathroom, slightly hoping that maybe you're waiting for him in the hot bath to tease him even more, but you weren't there either.

He frowns. He wonders if this isn't one of your games. Isn't that what you wanted—to play cat and mouse with him, to give him an exciting chase before he wins and can finally ravage you—but he quickly dismisses that (charming) idea. You were as desperate as he was. You wouldn't leave this room unless it was urgent. At least he hoped so.

He clenches his fists as he steps out into the main room of his chambers. The idea crosses his mind that maybe this time you actually ran away from him. He wouldn't be surprised. Maybe you finally snapped; maybe he scared you too much; maybe he went a step too far today by injecting you with truth serum and torturing your former lover/friend.

After all, you didn't say you loved him. You also didn't say that you despised him or that you wanted him to leave you. You could have escaped from him when the perfect opportunity presented itself…

"My lord, Na-Baron?" The frightened tone of one of the guards' voices brings Feyd out of his thoughts. He realises that he has gone out into the hall and is standing in the doorway, staring blankly at his two men. He clears his throat and turns his cold, calculating gaze on one of them.

"Have you seen my right hand?" They both shake their heads, not daring to look at him.

"No one left or entered these chambers except you, my na-baron." His madness grows as he unintentionally compares them to you. You always had the courage to face his anger and look at him, proudly bearing his burning gaze.

If you really run away from him... he will unleash hundreds of hounds, bring you back to him at all costs, and make sure you never leave his side again. He won't give a fuck if that's what you want. He gave you countless opportunities to leave him and end things between you two in a civilised way without brutality or bloodshed, but you didn't want it. The only thing stopping you two from being together were your stupid prejudices and fear. He planned to get rid of them completely once he got his hands on you again.

"Bring her to me." He growls at them, turning to go back to his chambers.

"But my lord..." Before the soldier can finish his sentence, Feyd reaches for his blade and cuts his throat with one skillful move. It eases the tension in his muscles a little, but the moment the man falls dead to the floor in front of him, his mood sours again. Because he remembers how, in moments like these, you often gave him a disapproving look and cleaned up the mess he made.

He growls at the other soldier, who is shaking with fear, to clean up and closes the door behind him with a loud bang. He had to find you. You got too deep under his skin for him to just forget about you. First, he had to determine whether you disappeared alone or whether someone had helped you. And God save him who dared to steal his baroness from under his nose.

He carefully examines his chambers, slowly exploring every corner. He frowns when he sees a familiar, polished dagger in his weapon collection. He picks it up and looks at it carefully. It was your blade. The one you had attached to your thigh. You had never left it—not since you got it from him for your birthday.

"Na-baron. You wanted to see me." You say, walking onto the balcony of his chambers. Feyd doesn't turn towards you. He stares at Giedi Prime spread out below him, the city completely shrouded in darkness. Only the few white stars that managed to penetrate the polluted atmosphere illuminated the planet with a pale glow. You quickly catch the hint and stand next to him, also looking at the buildings.

"I hate it here." He confesses to you without knowing why. "My home planet had seas, lakes, wild landscapes, and tundra that no one dared to tame. And here everything is so..."

"Controlled. Polluted. Defiled. Exploited. No room for anything... wild or natural." You finish for him. He nods, agreeing with your words.

It's been two years since you served him. And he had to admit that he didn't have such a good man on whom he could always count. You were extraordinary. Loyal, faithful, brave, honourable, and cunning. Feyd wanted to liberate you. Not many could live up to his expectations, but you seemed to know exactly what he wanted and needed after just one look. It aroused in him... strange feelings. Disturbing. But he didn't think about it when he was around you.

He preferred to admire your… difference. The hair that flowed slightly in the wind, the way your eyebrows knitted together in anger when someone questioned your position as his right-hand man, the way you walked, the way you could disappear into the shadows, the cunning and strength of your mind. You were an extraordinary woman. He started to appreciate you for the time you spent planning together. Nightly conversations about the nobility of Giedi Prime, your battle plans, and court intrigues became… something other than work for him. He was starting to like being close to you.

And at night, when he was with his concubines... he found himself imagining you in their place. And how much he wanted you... so much so lately that every little thing you did was the hottest, erotic act for him, even the way you moaned in appreciation when you ate good food. He was fucked up. Like a teenager in love.

But he didn't love you. He could not. His uncle had told him many times that the Harkonnens knew no love or affection. He just had to wait until this desire passed or find another right hand and make you his concubine, which was a much more difficult task. There were many pussies and holes he could have used, but you were the only one who seemed to have a mind even remotely like his. He couldn't afford to lose such a good strategist and soldier.

"Do you need anything, Na-Baron?" Your gentle question brings him out of his thoughts. He nods and goes to his chambers. He returns quickly with a black box in his hands. He hands it to you, carefully watching your reaction.

"Happy birthday, little witch." He says, not hiding a small smirk when he sees your shock. He managed to surprise you so rarely that he treated every such moment with reverence, as if it were the most important moment of his life. Pathetic. What power you had over him…

"How did you..."

"I have my ways too. Open it." He interrupts you, excited by your reaction to his gift. He puts his hands behind his back, feeling his fingers tremble slightly as they begin to sweat. He ignores it, completely focused on you as you gently untie the white bow and open the box. You hold your breath, staring at the dagger in awe. "Steel from my home planet. Don't stab yourself with it by accident. When it pierces someone's body, a piece of the blade dissolves under the heat of the attacker's blood. A small dose of this metal in the human body causes, in the worst case, a moribund state and death. We call it the shadow killer because death occurs hours after the attack unless an antidote is administered."

"I... I don't know what to say." You whisper, taking out the blade and running your fingertips over it. He looks at you with pride. He made it all by himself. For you. A detail he would take with him to his grave rather than admit to anyone.

"You can thank me. Didn't the Bene Gesserit teach you this?" He asks teasingly, making you roll your eyes at him. However, you give him such a beautiful smile that his black, rotten heart beats faster, letting him know about you for the first time in years.

"Thank you, Feyd." He melts when you say his name. You used it so infrequently that he had every little moment seared into his memory when you let your professionalism slip through and did it. And he loved the way his name sounded on your lips. He couldn't help but imagine what it would sound like when you shouted it, under much more pleasant circumstances.

"You know, we Harkonnens kiss each other on the lips as an expression of gratitude." He says this as your eyes move back to the dagger. He sees you freeze at the memory of it. You blush slightly, but enough for Feyd to notice the slight change. And he absolutely loves seeing you blushing and confused.

"I'm not a Harkonnen." You respond with a cheeky smile, and he shakes his head in amusement.

"But you are on our planet. I guess you should follow our rules and customs, right? Besides, in a few years, you'll be considered one of us."

"If I survive."

"I think you have a good chance." He smiles at your banter. The pride in his chest grows even more when, instead of looking at his black teeth in horror, you giggle, unfazed. You were so different…

However, he freezes when you take a step towards him. You cup his cheeks in your hands and pull him in for a kiss. He almost moans into your mouth like a total slut. It takes all of his willpower not to kiss you back, not to pull you closer, and not to actually taste your lips. But he can't. He won't show that he is that weak for you. So he keeps this fake kiss very professional. He is digging his nails into his palms until they bleed, as he is too afraid that he will accidentally reach for your body and pull you closer to him.

You pull away from him as suddenly as you place your lips on him. And he's both shocked and angry that your lips left his so quickly. His eyes wander to your lips as you lick them. Feyd curses himself for how badly he wants that pink tongue of yours to wrap around his own... or the hardening manhood in his pants.

"Thank you, Na-Baron Feyd Rautha." You whisper and head towards the exit, leaving him there, completely horny and wanting more of you—your touch, your kisses, your lips, your taste, your everything. He feels himself blushing at the thought of what he wants to do to you.

"Your welcome, my little witch." He mumbles as you disappear back into your shadows. He puts his bloody fingertips on his lips, tasting his blood. He closes his eyes, imagining how sweet you must taste...

Yeah... Feyd couldn't love you. A lie he had told himself since that night every time he felt his heart pound in his chest whenever he saw you.

"Brother… I mean... my Baron…" Rabban's voice reaches him vaguely as he continues to recall that day. Now he knew the taste of your lips... and your more intimate parts. And damn him if he doesn't put his fingers and tongue on you again.

"What?" He growls at him furiously, unsheathing his dagger and attaching yours to his body. The blade of the dagger was a bit uneven. And soft in his hands. It must have been used recently. And from the dried blood on the handle, he guessed that someone had clumsily tried to clean it. Someone took you from him.

He returns to the bedroom and grabs your shawl from the floor. He puts it to his nose and inhales your scent. He calms down a little—not enough for his fury to disappear, but enough to start thinking logically.

He was going to turn Arrakis into a living hell.

"The council has met. All high families. They are waiting for you."

Feyd would ignore it and go straight to find you, but your disgruntled face appears before his eyes. He would know that you would advise him to go to the council and present himself as best as possible—show his strength. He sighed, wrapping your shawl around his wrist as he made a decision.

"I see. Let's go." He announces this as he leaves the room and doesn't wait for Rabban to follow him. His brother runs after him, cursing under his breath as he tries to keep up with his fast pace. Feyd had a plan in his head and a clear goal. He'll have you in his arms at the end of the day, or he'll burn this damn planet down looking for you.

"And your witch?" Feyd suddenly stops. He turns his head slowly and looks at his brother, narrowing his eyes at him.

He shakes his head, knowing full well that you would castrate his brother before allowing him and his men to take you away. Rabban was too stupid for that and too afraid of him. If Feyd had to bet on who did it, he would choose the Bene Gesserit or Atreides with his Fremen.

"She won't be there. Order our men to close the airspace and monitor movements in the desert. Tell them to keep an eye on the Reverend Mothers and the Bene Gesserit. If they object to or question my decision, order to tell them that the baron is only trying to keep them safe. They are to report their every move to me. Once you've done that, join the meeting."

"Me?" He asks in shock, following obediently after him.

"You are my brother. We have to show that we are strong and that there are no divisions between us. Especially after my uncle is dead. They may think we are weak targets and want to get rid of us, just like we did with the Atreides. We must assert our dominance."

Rabban nods, looking at him warily. Feyd doesn't care what he looks like. They took you away from him. He'll do anything to get you back. It doesn't matter if he makes you seem mad or a worse psychopath than he already is.

Why does he need a reputation as a bloodthirsty beast if someone dared to get their hands on what's his anyway? People sentenced themselves to death and then dared to say that he was unpredictable. Pathetic idiots. He hoped you were giving them hell. His heart ached uncomfortably at the thought of someone hurting you while he had to deal with the nobility.

"Let's be honest. Baron Vladimir is dead. Paul Atreides is still at large, probably planning our murder, and the Fremen are rampaging in the desert, worshipping the false prophet. What are you going to do about it, Baron Feyd Rautha?" Feyd clenched his fists under the table. He slowly stopped being surprised that his uncle had become such a man.

After talking to the emperor for a moment, he felt like cutting out his tongue and gouging out the eyes of other high families staring at him. As if his role was to play their hero...

"We have already taken the first measures. It only takes a few bombs to extinguish the spirit of these desert rats. As for Paul Atreides... my people are looking for him. And my right hand went missing the night my uncle died. We suspect this is a related case. I'm going to head out into the desert and join the search. Of course, leaving members of high families in the care of my brother and some of our people. No one will leave Arrakis until the traitors are killed."

His calm, unruffled demeanour, and silent threat caused a slight stir in the room. Feyd suppressed a smirk. He loved controlling the crowd this way. However, he knew that impressing the emperor would be more difficult. Words were not enough to prove that the Harkonnens were a force they should be afraid of. And so far, his brother and uncle have only brought humiliation to their family. He had to fix it. Only with you by his side. That's why he had to leave this pointless meeting as soon as possible and start taking some action. His weapon craved blood.

"It wouldn't be the first time a concubine had gone missing." Princess Irulan comments. Feyd shifts his gaze to her, analysing her carefully. She was paler than usual, her posture more indifferent, as if she were trying hard to hide her true emotions behind her mask. Feyd made a note to look at her more closely.

"Probably not, Princess Irulan. However, in light of recent events—the Atreides attack, the death of my dear uncle, and the increased activity of the Fremen—I am certain that this is not a mere disappearance. This is a deliberate action. Attack on noble houses. Attack on the Harkonnens. And maybe I wouldn't be so concerned about my right hand being missing if it weren't for the baby." After his words, silence fell in the room. Feyd delights in the shocked look from the princess and the nobles in the room.

"The baby?"

"My heir she carries." Feyd nods, repeating his words to the emperor.

Feyd could barely contain his smirk, knowing full well how much you would like to see the faces of representatives of great houses now. To say they were shocked was an understatement. But what else was he supposed to say? That he goes looking for you with a thousand of his troops because he loves you and simply can't lose you? Only the thought of losing his heir was... a good reason to search all of Arrakis and close the airspace—any possibility of leaving the planet.

Because who would stop Harkonnen from desperately searching for the woman who carries his heir? Even a fool wouldn't dare. And if the Bene Gesserit were behind your kidnapping, they wouldn't dare do anything to you either after hearing that... surprising information. After all, they needed his offspring for their plans. Why would they destroy one? Feyd just hoped to get to you first before anyone discovered that you weren't pregnant at all.

"You horny dog! Why didn't you say anything?" Rabban pats him on the back, laughing hoarsely. It breaks the awkward silence in the room. But still, everyone's eyes are on him.

"We preferred to wait with any celebration until we were sure that the baby was growing healthily. After all, this could be our Kwisatz Hederach. Of course, now the safe return of my fiancée with our child is much more important. Therefore, I hope that the Emperor will consent to whatever… measures I intend to take in this matter. Whoever dared to raise a hand against the Harkonnens will pay the weight of their crimes in blood." Feyd continues his lies, knowing full well that you will kick his ass when you find out he called you his fiancée in front of great houses.

"But… I talked to the Baron…"

"My uncle... has not been in good health for a long time. May he rest in peace. Whatever arrangement he made with you, the emperor, during my reign it must be discussed again. Unfortunately, he will not rise from the grave and give us all the details."

"Of course… Baron Feyd-Rautha." The Emperor nods at him. Feyd takes the opportunity and decides to leave the room while he can. He nods to his brother, who turns out to be intelligent enough to understand the message and stands up as well.

"Excellent. If you don't mind, we'll leave now."

He doesn't wait for an answer. He just goes out, with Rabban close behind him. He orders him to prepare the army for the march and place spies around the fortress. They split up halfway to Feyd's rooms. He goes to prepare for his departure, hoping that Rabban will cope with the tasks he has entrusted to him. He missed you. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about anything if you were by his side.

He sighs as he enters his chambers. He stops in his tracks, seeing Princess Irulan next to his collection of weapons. He closes the door behind him with a bang, announcing his presence. The woman trembles and turns towards him.

"Baron."

"Princess." He responds coldly, looking at her carefully. He didn't say anything more. He wanted her to explain her sudden presence in his chambers. He notices, however, that his new title sounds nasty coming from her mouth, no matter how seductively she tries to say it. He imagines you whispering it in his ear as you ride him on his new throne on Giedi Prime...

"I thought you were leaving." He returns to the present moment, making sure he remembers to fulfil this fantasy once you both get back from this damn planet.

"I needed to change first." He replies and clears his throat, suggesting that she should leave. Unfortunately, she either doesn't want to or doesn't understand his hint and stays where she is, watching him carefully.

He feels like he's playing chess. One wrong move, and he loses a pawn. He hated this game until you started playing with him in the evenings, when you exchanged gossip from the court and your own comments. He doesn't remember how many times you fell asleep and he carried you to his bed. His harpies hated these evenings, and he too hated them at the beginning. Over time, he was just waiting for that moment when he was able to watch you snuggle into his pillow, sleeping peacefully.

"I… that's good. I was hoping to talk to you before you left."

"Talk then." He says this and starts taking off his clothes. He notices her blush and the way she looks away. But there's nothing sweet or funny about this gesture, unlike the way you do it. He changes into his usual tactical battle armour as fast as he can, still thinking about the way you used to even shout at him when he was going fully naked around you.

"I was shocked by this news. About the baby. And your fiancée."

"Why?"

"Well, you know very well, my lord, that the Bene Gesserit has planned to unite our families. This shouldn't have happened." He furrows his hairless eyebrows, feeling the anger start to boil within him again. How dare she tell him what he should do? Who should get pregnant, and who should not? He didn't care what the Bene Gesserit wanted. Feyd wanted you, and you probably wanted him. That was all that mattered.

"Would you rather be at my fiancée's place? Would you rather carry my baby instead of her?" He asks dangerously, approaching her slowly. Before she can react, he lunges forward and almost crushes her neck in his grip when he prevents her from using the voice. "You are trembling with fear, princess. It is pathetic that the Bene Gesserit even thought we could connect in any way. Even if we got married, I wouldn't lay a finger on you. At best, I would kill you right after I consolidated my power as emperor. Now that we both know where we stand... Tell me, where is my little witch?"

"The Reverend Mother sent her to Paul Atreides' hideout." She answers him obediently. Feyd smirks sadistically and maliciously as her eyes widen in shock when she realises he has used the voice on her. "How?" She managed to ask before Feyd tightened his grip on her throat again, giving her a bored look.

"With one of your witches by my side, do you think I won't do anything to learn your tricks? I'm not an idiot to let an opportunity like this pass me by. You think that I didn't also see you wince with every move at the meeting? This must have happened right after my fiancée stabbed you when you kidnapped her, right? The poison took effect, didn't it? Are you feeling weak? Do you feel how you slowly lose your vitality with each breath? It will get even worse. Maybe my fiancée will have the mercy to give you the antidote, but I have no intention of doing so. Now listen to me carefully. You won't say or write even a word to inform anyone about what happened. You will lock yourself in your room and endure the effects of the poison without complaining to anyone that something is wrong with you. Get out of my sight before I finish my beloved's work."

He throws her away like a rag doll, feeling defiled just by touching her neck. The only reason he kept her alive was because she was the emperor's daughter, and he couldn't afford to get rid of her YET. She runs away from him as soon as his grip on her neck is gone.

He smiles mockingly and leaves his chambers as well. Now that he knew you would be in the desert, he was going to dig up those damn sand folds and kill all the Fremen and Bene Gesserit who had a hand in your kidnapping.

And once you are by his side again, he will give you the heads of the princess, Corrino's Reverend Mother, and Atreides on a golden platter—an engagement present worthy of a real baroness. Well, he'll have to convince you to marry him first. He sighs, realising how much work is still ahead of him.

You wake up feeling numb. Entirely. There's a gag in your mouth, your hands are tied behind your back, and your ankles are cuffed together, completely preventing you from moving.

You look around your surroundings, realising that you are in one of the Fremen hideouts. A small room carved into the sandy rock resembles a prison cell. You gasp as you try to get off the floor. With a groan, you lean against the cold wall behind you as you somehow manage to sit up. You wonder how the hell you ended up here. And how can you escape when you are completely incapacitated?

Suddenly, the door to the room opens, and Corrino's Reverend Mother enters. You look at the woman with a calculating gaze, showing no emotion other than disgust.

"Y/N Y/L/N. We thought you were dead."

You roll your eyes at her. The old hag knew perfectly well that you had a gag. The fact that she expected any response from you was ridiculous.

"You betrayed your sisters. We should have killed you the moment you were recognised by one of us. You're lucky we're still keeping you alive."

You would snort if you didn't have a gag in your mouth. The Bene Gesserit knew no mercy; if they kept you alive, it was because they still needed you in their plans. After all, you were the strongest of them, which might not be visible now, but it was the truth. They didn't train you all your life and shape you into their ideal form of some sick Holly Mother, just to throw you away now.

You are tensing as the old woman walks up to you and painfully grabs your jaw. You glare at her furiously with your own, not showing an ounce of fear or remorse. What you wouldn't give to have at least a butter knife with you…

"Do you think you are smart, child? That you managed to escape fate? Not at all. Our visions may have been blurry, but now we see everything. Paul Atreides sees everything. After his plan succeeds, he becomes emperor, and you will become his concubine and the mother of the Kwisatz Hederach. Until then, we will keep you under control."

"Who allowed you to come in here?" A cold, commanding voice echoes throughout the small cell. The Reverend Mother steps away from you as if she's been burned by him, giving you the opportunity to look at Paul Atreides as she steps inside. You shiver as his cold gaze falls on you, but you show them nothing but disgust and anger. If you're going to die, at least you will make sure that before you do that, you'll be remembered by them as one big pain in the ass.

"I..."

"Silience!" Atreides yells at her as she feebly tries to explain herself to him. You frown, wondering how the hell he gained such power over the Bene Gesserit. "Leave us alone."

The woman nods obediently and leaves, closing the bars to your cell behind her. You shift your gaze to Atreides, examining him carefully. He was… more portly than you remembered him last time. He became stronger, tougher, and visibly hardened by the sands of Arrakis, since his posture was stiff as armour. You catch yourself thinking that if he stood in the arena in Giedi Prime, he would still lose to your na-baron.

"I am not here to hurt you, Y/N." Atreides says, walking over to you. He crouches down so that you are both at the same height. You look closely at the features of his face, analysing them carefully, trying to read what's behind the strange behaviour of the mysterious Fremen's prophet. "We both have our roles to play here. Something that is above us. I learned a lot about you.I know about your service to the Harkonnens, what you endured as a Bene Gesserit, and every darkest part of your past. And I know you are a wise and very strong woman. You probably understand why all this is so important and why we must fulfil the prophecy and take our places in this story." He says, removing your gag. You clear your throat as he finishes his speech, and, trying to hide your concern, you growl, your voice so hoarse and dripping with madness that Feyd would surely be proud of you:

"You are a mad freak. Feyd will kill you as soon as he finds you. And hell knows, he will come for me. It will be pure joy to fight him for the privilege of being the one who impales your head." Atreides gives you a small smile. He shakes his head, amused by what you're saying. He stands up, helping you to stand on your two feet as well, placing his hands on your waist respectfully, and touching you as little as necessary.

"Come with me. Let me show you something." He says this in an extremely calm voice as he removes the chain from around your ankles. You briefly consider kicking him and trying to escape, but you realise there's not much you can do with your hands tied. You are also still weak—too weak to maintain control over someone else for long with the voice. "Do not be afraid. I told you. I have no reason to hurt you." He encourages, concluding that your hesitation is out of fear and not a desire to attack him.

"I lived for years among the Harkonnens. I'm not afraid of anything except myself."

He gives you an ironic smirk, as if he were convinced that he was an evil worse than the Harkonnens. You don't care about his poor attempts to intimidate you. You weren't some desert rat to be terrified of a man with nice curls and eyes.

You walk through a series of corridors, and of course he leads you, holding your arm tightly and making sure you don't do anything stupid on this little trip around his kingdom. It brings you great satisfaction. Your reputation had obviously taken its toll if he continued to be vigilant around you while you were still half sedated and tied up without any weapons.

You smile sadistically at the Fremen you pass. They look away from you, too afraid to meet your gaze. You were known among them as the Na-Baron's bloodthirsty right-hand, whose cruelty rivalled that of many Harkonnens.

You and Atreides go deeper down. You slowly start to feel dizzy from the number of corridors, corners, and stairs he tells you to take, but eventually you reach a more spacious room. You sigh, feeling the humid air—a sweet change from the dry Arrakis wind. Atreides takes the torch and leads you deeper into the room. You gasp as you see a large pool full of water.

"The Fremen treat water as something sacred. They collect it from the bodies of their people; the water of the more deserving people goes to such pools."

"This is a waste. And stupid, considering that they are dying from a lack of water while having pools of it safely hidden from the Harkonnens." You notice, staring at the pool of water. You tense as you feel Paul's searching gaze on you. You turn your head and give him an intimidating look. He doesn't even flinch. He is unfazed as he continues to analyse you—something you don't like at all. You wish Feyd was here. He would gouge Atreides' eyes out the first time his gaze lingered on you for a second too long.

"Possible. But it's not the first time we waste something in the name of faith, right?"

"Faith befuddles and stupefies. Same as prophecies. We are responsible for our own fate. It doesn't matter what some crazy old man wrote in the books a hundred years ago, probably under the influence of drugs or other alcohol. No one influences our future except ourselves."

His silence at your words worries you. You turn your head to look at him. A small smirk spreads across his face—a sign that your words didn't outrage him as much as they were supposed to. He nods, agreeing with your words, and you realise what he really means. The son of a bitch was testing you. Logical, considering that he was the one who started the cult of him. He thought like you. He did not believe in any Kwisatz Hederach, and even if he did, he considered himself one. He just needed you to keep the propaganda and people's faith in him.

He wanted to show that he had tamed the Harkonnen's witch.

Atreides walks over to you and carefully places a hand on your shoulder, directing you to a different side of the room. You pass by a pool of water. In the centre, there is a large stone bowl on a platform.

"The Reverend Mothers call it the mirror of wisdom. It shows us our future if we continue on the path we are currently on. Look. See what awaits you with your crazy beast by your side."

"It's very brave of you to think that I'm not one." He chuckled at your words. He lets go of you and takes two steps back, keeping his amused, curious gaze on you.

"The Harkonnens are different from us. You may think you are one of them, that you have absorbed their ways and behaviours, but the truth is that you are not one of them at all. You may have adapted to survive among them, but can you look me in the eyes and tell me you don't long for something more... normal?"

"Normality is for the weak." You reply, huffing furiously. "Apart from that, my life has always been different from normal. This is my normality, Atreides."

"Even the bravest warrior needs a break, a moment of respite. Look. Aren't you curious?"

You were very damn curious. Especially after that strange dream/vision you had. So, without saying a word, you approach the bowl of water. You take a breath and dive your head into it, letting the images flood your mind.

This time you are not on Giedi Prime, and you are not a participant in the events. From a distance, you watch the older version of yourself adjust the crown on her head. Empress's crown.

You see yourself flinching in the mirror as the door to your chamber bursts open. Feyd, dressed as an emperor, walks in furiously, heading straight for you. He pushes the large mirror, smashing it against the wall with a roar.

However, you don't care about his sudden attack and watch him, unfazed, as he gasps with rage.

"Is something wrong, honey?" You ask in an almost too-sweet tone, mocking him.

"Do you have the nerve to ask me that? Why don't you tell me where my concubine is instead? Where did you send her? You gave the corpses to the harpies to eat? If any harm has come to her, I will make you eat all three of them before I tear out your cunning heart from your chest, witch."

"You'd have to touch me first. And we both know that lately you're more afraid of laying a finger on me than of our son dethroning you. Which is very surprising, by the way. Has that concubine of yours brainwashed you so much?" You see yourself smiling mockingly as you watch his anger grow with every word you say.

"Don't talk about her like that. Unlike you, she's not a cold, uncaring, selfish bitch."

"Of course not. A smart woman wouldn't willingly sleep with you." This completely breaks the remnants of his composure. He walks over to the older version of you and wraps his hand around her neck, pressing her against the wall.

But he doesn't do it the same way he does with you. It's not a gentle neck hold, a warning, or anything sexual—something that would turn you both on. He just cuts you off, choking you, watching with sick satisfaction as you squirm, trying to get out of his grasp.

"What's stopping me from ending your miserable life? You have already given me a son; your usefulness has long passed, and yet I still let you breathe the same air as me." He says this, tightening his grip on your neck. You gasp as he pushes you away.

From the way you fall to the floor and choke for air, you assume that the older version of you was only seconds away from suffocating. But you don't surrender to him; you don't give him any satisfaction in trying to intimidate you. You start laughing derisively, shaking your head in amusement as you slowly get up from the floor.

"Aw... you couldn't kill me. You're like a dog. You bark and do little. You love me too much to kill me, don't you remember? How did you beg me all those years ago for a piece of my feelings? Who said I love you first? Who was begging on his knees for my hand? Who wanted to have a child? You. You are just a desperate little boy looking for love and affection. You probably even liked the fact that I'm jealous of you and kill your lover? Unfortunately, I don't give a shit who you fuck. I didn't steal your whore, so get out and don't waste my time, husband." You mock him, waiting expectantly for his next move.

He stares at you with pure hatred and resentment. You feel the tension in the room begin to build; the immense anger and disgust between the two of you are palpable. You have no fucking idea how you came to be so hostile towards each other, but... you can't say you're surprised. Because if you were already imagining a future with Feyd... this was the scenario that came to your mind most often.

The two of you were too broken to trust each other and entrust each other with the remnants of the heart that beat and remained within you.

Feyd looks like he wants to say something. But he gives up and instead just leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

You swallow, observing your pathetic fate. The empress locked in a golden palace. At eternal war with everyone. Lonely. Your heart aches at the thought of this being your fate. This is what you were running from. Before relegating you solely to the vessel she was to carry and give to the world, Kwisatz Hederach, Because what would be the use of you then? You would be rejected and alone. Waiting to die. However, you didn't expect your end to look like THIS.

A figure emerges from the darkness of the room through a hidden passage—a man who is a copy of you and Feyd. You see a similarity in him, in your movements, in your creeping through the shadows. He approaches you from behind, holding a dagger similar to the one Feyd gave you on your birthday. You don't react when you feel steel around your neck, as if you had long ago come to terms with how you would die—and by whose hands.

"You were right, mother… I was destined to achieve much more."

And with that, he cuts your throat. Crimson blood runs down your dress, almost invisible against the black material. You die quickly. Quietly. Like a rat...

"Have you seen something interesting?" Atreides' voice reaches you as you step away from the bowl after the vision ends. You sigh heavily, breathing heavily. Drops of water roll down your face and soak into your linen shirt.

"Screw you." You snap at him, trying to wipe your face on the frame. He tears off a piece of his shavl and walks over to you. He wipes the water from your face and hair, not caring about the scowl you throw at him in warning.

"I told you. The future with Harkonnen cannot end well. But if you stay with me, I promise nothing will happen to you. You can be more free with me than you ever could with him."

And you're tempted as hell to accept his offer. You can't say you're not interested at all, that what you saw hasn't made you question your choices... but you've been a Harkonnen for so many years. Could you really forget all this so easily? Forget about Feyd? Maybe in that stupid Bene Gesserit's bowl you saw your tragic end at his side... but did it really have to end like this? You could avoid all this. Take a risk to gain something much better...

"So this is your offer? Freedom and security for lending my uterus for 9 months?" You ask him, wanting to know exactly what options and choices you have.

"In very simple terms, yes." He nods, still staring at you. You find this very irritating of him; you were usually the one who pierced other people with your gaze. Not the other way around.

"What for? You're telling these fools that you're their saviour and the messiah. Kwisatz Hederach, ahead of his time. Why do you need me?"

"I need the support of the Reverend Mothers of other families. I may have... your powers and be the strongest of them all, but I've learned that if you can gain someone's support in a peaceful way, it's better to try it before reaching for a weapon."

Atreides stared at you like you were a puzzle to solve. You didn't like the hidden arrogance in his eyes—the belief that he was truly capable of discovering all your secrets.

Maybe he knew your past, and maybe he saw visions of the future, possible scenarios of what might have happened after his decisions, but the present was yours. And only yours. You will be more than happy to show him that no one could tear out all your fangs and claws.

"Feyd will kill you sooner and bind me with tighter chains than you did, than he ever allowed such a turn of events." You say confidently, convinced that he won't just leave you. In this situation, it's a huge relief for you... but in your head, you can still see his sadistic smirk as he choked you against the wall.

"Not if I kill him." You tense up at his words, and your heart starts to beat faster as you process his words. You would never think that Feyd Rautha could ever die—not by another person's hand, of course. And certainly not Atreides.

He fought too well, was too intelligent and cunning to fail in battle, and yet... you couldn't deny that that one simple sentence Paul said with such confidence didn't send a cold shiver of fear down your spine or that you felt no threat.

"Have you ever seen him in the arena? Or how does he fight? You may have become stronger thanks to your time on Arrakis, but he was trained from childhood to be a small, psychopathic killer and ruthless warrior. You don't stand a chance, Atreides. You won't last a minute fighting him."

"Maybe not in an equal fight. But by trick? More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man."

"Are you talking about your father or maybe even your mother?" You ask mockingly, making his jaw tense and his hands clench into fists. You are very pleased with yourself that you finally managed to hit his sweet spot. Feyd would be proud of you.

"I'm talking about what will happen. Feyd Rautha will die. From my hands." The more he talks about it, the more your anger grows. However, you decide to stay calm and continue the little exchange between the two of you, trying to get something useful from him.

"Are you that sure about your visions? You don't hesitate for a moment, Atreides? It must be so boring knowing what's going to happen. Never having any element of surprise…"

"There are no more certain and clear visions than mine. Maybe you should also start believing in them?"

"Not as long as I have my brain." And my own visions. You add it in your mind, thinking about what you had dreamed about before you woke up in this hole.

"The rumors about you don't lie… Harkonnen's witch." He hums as he walks over to you. His hand reaches up to your cheek, using the pad of his thumb to gently wipe your cheek clean of the drop of water still left on it.

You shiver, staring into his eyes. His touch burns, but not in a nice, familiar way. And when you realise that the reason you're not attracted to him is because he doesn't have the familiar ice-blue irises, pale skin, and bald head, it scares you more than Atreides' sudden proximity to you.

"I'm glad I didn't disappoint you, Atreides." You whisper, moving away from him. You quickly lean in, wanting to bite, or preferably bite off, his finger that was caressing your skin, but he withdraws his hand and takes a step away from you. He laughs at your feeble attempt to harm him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but then the ground around you starts shaking. The sand rock crumbles, causing some of it to fall from the ceiling onto the ground. Atreides looks at you suspiciously.

"Didn't you see it in your visions? Maybe there's a sandworm crawling through your halls?" You ask mockingly, shrugging your shoulders.

"Stay here." He commands you using the voice. He doesn't spare you a second glance, simply heading for the exit. You look at him in disbelief and quickly follow him. The last thing you want is to get buried in one of these rats' corridors because one of them summoned a sandworm in the wrong way.

"I could be of much more use to you there than here." You say, as you are catching up with him, desperately trying to convince him.

"Not if these are Harkonnens!" He replies without looking back and slamming the door shut. You kick them in rage, looking around angrily at the large hall where he left you.

"That's the point…" You sigh, fed up with it all. You walk around the room, trying to find a way out, but even when you manage to find the side passages, you can't take a step beyond the threshold. You are forced to stay inside. "Fucking Atreides."

Instead of wandering aimlessly around the room, you decide to try and break the shackles that bind your hands. You try to smash them against the stalagmite, only to hit harder as the metal cuts into your wrists. After a while, when you have released all your anger, you somehow manage to free your hands. You rub your wrists, letting your blood soak into the sleeve of your linen shirt. You close your eyes and listen to the quiet sound of the water and the footsteps you hear from the upper floors. Something is happening...

Frustrated, you wander over to the pool filled with water. You crouch on the edge and dip your toes in the water. You watch the drops fall, wondering how many people have already given their lives. How many died at the hands of the Harkonnens? You wonder whether your water and blood will also join the ranks of their victims. It seems surreal to you now that Feyd could ever kill you or your own son... but how were you supposed to know what your future was supposed to be? Were you supposed to trust some strange visions or yourself?

While playing with water, you freeze when you suddenly see someone leaning over you. Before you can turn around, a hand covers your mouth, and another wraps around your waist, lifting you up. You scream and kick, trying to get out of someone's tight grip, but your attempts to break free are futile. You freeze when you hear a familiar, raspy voice whisper in your ear.

"Don't worry, it's me. It's just me. Shhh… You're safe. It's me." You relax a little in his arms. You reach your hand up to his and remove it from your mouth. He loosens his grip enough for you to turn in his arms.

"Feyd." You sigh when you see his face. You throw your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his neck. You rest your chin on his shoulder and breathe in his scent as you hold onto him tightly.

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief as well. He places a kiss on the top of your head and hugs you tighter. After a moment, he pulls away from you—not too far away, only a bit—so he can look at your face and see if you have any injuries.

"You're getting out of here. Our men are hidden in every corridor of this hole. Take a few of them and go to the exit. They will take you to the ship. Wait for me there." He gently cups your cheeks in his hands and forces you to look into his eyes. Your heart beats faster as you recognise that concerned look in his eyes from your dream, mixed with anger. "Y/N. I mean it. I know you want to fight; you're brave and a great warrior, but do it for me and just go to that damn ship."

"No. Wait, listen to me. I have to tell you something..."

"You'll tell me you love me later, now you have to get out of here, so I can destroy this place." He interrupts you, gently pushing you towards the exit. You feel anger and frustration building within you as yet another person tries to control you and tell you what to do. No matter how sweet and protective Feyd is acting now, you are fed up with constantly obeying everyone around you.

"Stop!" You shout at him, making him stop in his tracks in shock. Under any other circumstances, you would laugh at the surprised look he gives you, but not now. "Do you trust me?" You ask, looking at him expectantly. You know you're asking a lot of him right now, but if you're going to change your future, you have to act now. And fast. Very fast.

"Y/N this isn't the best…"

"Do you trust me?!" You interrupt him, raising your voice. He must see the desperation and seriousness in your eyes because you see him swallow, considering the question you've asked him. You unconsciously hold your breath, waiting for him to respond.

You both know this isn't an ordinary question. It means something more. Admitting something you both had been avoiding since the first day your blades met in a little skirmish that earned you his sympathy. He had long admired you for your mind, intelligence, ingenuity, cunning, and natural charm. But could he trust you completely?

"I… I do. If I trust anyone, it's you. Only you."

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You take a step towards him, cupping his cheek in your hand and kissing him. He tenses in surprise but kisses you back pretty quickly, moaning into your mouth as you express all the passion and desire you feel for him. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, wanting to feel your body against his to make sure this isn't some dream. You caress the skin of his neck, shuddering as an electric shiver runs through you as he deepens the kiss, taking everything you have to offer him.

Kissing Feyd always felt like it was the first kiss between the two of you. He kissed like he fought—with his whole being, not holding back, transmitting all his passion and desire. He didn't even know how much you needed to taste all of him right now. And how bittersweet that kiss was for you.

You reluctantly pull away from him and press your forehead against his. You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

"I love you, Feyd. I have always loved you. And I was very afraid of it, but I'm not anymore... I... I don't want to be scared of this anymore." You admit it as a single tear falls from your eyes. He reaches to wipe it off, but you shake your head. His hand freezes, hanging between you as he stares at you in shock, trying to process what you said.

Just as he's about to open his mouth, probably to tell you the same thing, you lean in and kiss him again. Slower, more gentle. A few tears escape you, allowing you both to taste them through the kiss.

You reach for the sword attached to his waist with trembling hands.

"I'm so sorry. But it's not our time yet." You whisper, moving away from him just as Paul Atreides returns to the room. He slowly walks towards you, his sword dripping with black Harkonnen blood. And you decide that if anyone spills blood in this room, it will be you. It must be you.

So when Paul is about to approach you and stab Feyd in the back, you close your eyes and stab Feyd with his sword. You hear him let out a shaky breath as his black blood slowly seeps from the wound, staining your hands. You keep your other hand on his shoulder, supporting his weight as he slowly sinks to his knees in front of you. You try to ignore him, not look at him or in his eyes... you simply cannot. Instead, you stare at Atreides.

Paul is beyond shocked by your actions. He looks for a moment at Feyd's black sword, the tip sticking out of his back—proof of what you did. After a moment, his eyes meet yours. After a while, he approaches you, sheathes his sword, and smiles proudly.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N." He says this, offering you his hand, which you reach for. You shake them, glaring at each other, assessing each other's behaviour as a new agreement forms between you.

You smile, hiding your fear as best as you can and holding back tears when you see Feyd's unconscious body out of the corner of your eye. But you've come too far to change your mind. From now on, you decide your fate.

Only you.

To be continued...

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @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 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t 

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[ask-pomni-blog]

Ok this may seem like im grasping at straws here but i need you guys to let me cook for a sec-

HUGE TADC EPISODE 2 SPOILERS

We start off the episode with Pomni’s nightmare, which is a reflection of Pomni’s fears and feelings that are going to be expanded upon throughout the episode. Her main fear isn’t abstracting here, it's the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of not mattering to anybody in the circus. This is seen clearly when Ragatha, Jax, and Caine are shown above the cellar, basically saying “good riddance” upon witnessing Pomni abstract.

And it makes complete sense that Pomni would feel this way once you look back at the circus’ reaction to Kaufmo abstracting (before the second episode). He doesn’t get acknowledged as someone who has just passed away, he doesn’t even get a moment of silence. Pomni notices this, and after she wakes up from her nightmare, she seems almost reluctant to bond with the rest of the circus members because this fear is still on her mind.

This is seen particularly when Pomni is speaking to Ragatha. Ragatha attempts to be helpful at any given chance, but most of the time Pomni is lost in her thoughts. Pomni doesn't seem very open to conversate with Ragatha because of her fears. But this isn't unwarranted, Ragatha literally calls the situation from the day before a “doozy” which brings up the fact that Ragatha constantly dismisses important issues, saying that they should just forget about the situation that happened the day before when Pomni left her for the exit. I understand that she’s trying to ease the tension between them, but I fear she might be making it even worse. Additionally, Ragatha dismissing a very important issue like that makes Pomni’s fears stronger, it may seem to Pomni that Ragatha doesn’t care…

When it’s actually the opposite! The whole episode she tries her best to motivate Pomni (“look, Pomni. We’re already friends with the princess!”, “So, Pomni, I’m sure there’s some way you could help out here.”)

and she’s also very concerned for Pomni when she’s gone (“...Pomni’s still on board!”, “Oh man, Poor Pomni. I hope she's alright.”, “I’m more worried she’s having another horrible experience.”, “Pomni! Are you okay?”)

However, all these remarks could be seen as condescending from Pomni’s perspective… And on the other hand, Ragatha feels like Pomni blames her for the situation, and that Pomni dislikes her. 

Returning to the topic of Pomni’s fears, a lot of this is also reflected in her conversation with Gummigoo:

—

G:“I don’t matter in the slightest. I’m nothing. My life, my memories… my friends… it’s all fake.” 

P:“...I think I know the feeling.”

P:“...I guess I just don't want you to feel like you’re nothing. I don’t want anyone to feel like that.”

G:“But I'm not even a real person. Would I even belong?”

P:“I’m sure you wouldn’t belong any less than me.”

—

Pomni relates to Gummigoo’s fears!! And Pomni is so compassionate and understanding too! …sadly their friendship didn’t last very long… and that brings us back to Ragatha and Pomni. Ragatha tries her best to be reassuring… unfortunately that didn’t work either. AND THIS WHOLE INTERACTION IS JUST- OH MY GOD... LET ME PUT A HUGE EMPHASIS ON THEIR BODY LANGUAGE HERE:

Also the WORDING HERE:

and this scene ooohhhhhhh,,,,,,,, this scene...!!

POMNI IS REASSURED ONCE SHE SEES THAT THE CIRCUS MEMBERS DO CARE. THEY WOULD CARE. HER FEARS DISSAPEAR AND AND- ohhhhmy god this is so sick and twisted.. this ep was.. soooooo good. holy smokes. anyways thank you for listening to my TED talk.

#[rant] #[ooc] #tadc #the amazing digital circus #digital circus #pomni #tadc pomni #the amazing digital circus pomni #pomni tadc #ask blog #analysis #tadc spoilers #tadc episode 2 #ragatha tadc #pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #tadc ragatha #the amazing digital circus ragatha #gummigoo #tadc ep 2 #finally i let it out #buttonblossom #ragapom #jesterdoll #let them talk omg.. #their tension is still not resolved #hooowever i feel like Pomni will feel more open to talk to Ragatha now #soon... soon they will.

[romaritimeharbor]

AURORA. — Arlecchino's child has never seen the aurora in Snezhnaya before.

— trigger & content warnings. none applicable!

— pairings & notes. fluff. arlecchino & reader. reader is a member of the house of the hearth, is at least around 15 but is otherwise ambiguous in age, and is implied to be arlecchino's chosen successor. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). arlecchino is suggested to be taller than the reader by quite a bit. 0.8k words.

— author's thoughts. arlecchino my beloved RAHHH she is literally the best fatui harbinger imo. i love you arle no. 4 of the fatui harbingers 🗣🗣❗️❗️❗️ i am surprised by the lack of platonic arlecchino fics!??!?! she is literally called father guys please /lh

       "Father..."

       Shadowing under the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers during one of her trips to Snezhnaya was, no doubt, nervewracking and tiring despite them never needing to do anything other than follow her around; Arlecchino simply wouldn't allow some of her coworkers to even look in their direction, let alone try to speak to them. Some, like Tartaglia, however, were momentarily permitted to; Childe had talked their ear off while Arlecchino was occupied with the Regrator and the Rooster, though they could only wordlessly nod in response to the never-ending chatter about his siblings. 'You should come by sometime,' he had said. 'You kids from the Hearth are a good lot, and my family would be more than happy to have visitors.'

       Nevertheless, really, they hadn't done much at all... but perhaps the anxiety of dipping their toes into their Harbinger's responsibilities—the ones that they may very well inherit one day—was a valid enough reason to be so mentally tired.

       Standing close behind her, listening to her speak with her coworkers (it was quite amusing to see the glare and scowl fixed on her face when she needed to speak to the Doctor—she never looked at them or any of their siblings like that—though the sheer terror his presence induced was enough to drown that amusement out), seeing the details of her responsibilities that others could not...

       They were certain that they must've said a mere one or two words during the whole visit—a "Yes, Father" or a "No, Father," directed at none other than their Harbinger and her alone.

       Exhaustion and cold seeped into their bones, but nonetheless, they had stopped trailing after her and stared up in wonderment.

       Arlecchino stopped shortly after they did, turning back to them. "What is it?"

       Colors danced freely in the nighttime Snezhnayan sky. Despite the chill permeating their flesh (they were reminded that they probably should have dressed a bit more warmly, but they weren't familiar with the Motherland, and therefore didn't anticipate how cold the night would get), they felt no compulsion to rush.

       "Look. The aurora," they murmured, eyes wide with awe and wonder.

       The Knave's heels clicked on the tiled terrace at the front of the Winter Palace as she paced back over to them, following their gaze upwards. "Have you never seen it before?"

       "No. I... I've never been to Snezhnaya before now," they admitted, "so I have never seen the aurora. I've heard about it, but—"

       "I understand. It is more magnificent than even the most vivid descriptions."

       Suddenly, the heavy weight of the Knave's coat fell onto their shoulders. They gingerly clasped the edges, pulling it closer to their body as to fend off the biting chill in the air. Lavender and a vague twinge of smoke filled their lungs. To some, it may have been an unpleasant combination—perhaps others would find the smoke too stinging and bitter or the lavender too sickening, as some do. To them, however, it was simply... Father's scent. It was hard to dislike when the person they associated it with was so important to their life.

       It was equally hard to feel cold with her coat draped over their body.

       Father's particular scent made a comforting warmth stir in their chest—perhaps she was not really their Father, but it was times such as this that made them feel that she was—and her coat ensured that their exterior did not freeze.

       In fact, it was quite impossible to feel cold now.

       "...Let us stay for a while longer, then," she mused, one of her hands finding its place on their upper back. "The aurora is a sight to behold, and there are no urgent matters to attend to at home."

       Momentarily, their gaze broke away from the sky and shifted to the Harbinger instead. Though they did appreciate the gesture of giving them her coat... "Won't you get cold, Father?"

       Their concern was not unwarranted, but indeed unecessary.

       "Worry not," the Fourth replied smoothly, reaching over to adjust the coat somewhat; it was too big for them and threatened to slip off of their body if their already gentle hold were to loosen even slightly. Arlecchino absently mused to herself about how utterly unintimidating they were, drowning in the fluff of her coat and head just barely able to peek out from the top. It was cute, though she dared not say admit such a thing out loud. "I have long since grown used to this weather. You have not."

       'You need that coat far more than I do.'

       That was what she wanted to say, or rather what she was implying; she would speak her mind if she so truly desired to or felt the need to. They'd grown quite used to her enigmatic nature and quite skilled in reading between the lines, picking apart her words at the seams to uncover what she truly meant to say.

       Suddenly, under the flickering purples, greens, and blues of the night sky, it was no longer cold.

please consider supporting your creators by reblogging & leaving a kind tag or comment if you enjoyed!

#✧— aphe's creations. #astronetwrk #divider by @/cafekitsune ♡ #platonic x reader #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #platonic genshin

[lavidavacomoverstappen]

Hi lovely. Can you please do mafia Charles and he’s very protective over reader who’s younger than him and maybe his enemies hurt her and he goes crazy or smth — F1driverszona

babe asked so she shall receive, I swear I’ve never written a fic this quickly I hope y’all’s like it 🎀

*Perceval*

You know how you look at someone and feel your heart swell with pride and joy? That was how Charles was feeling the exact moment he saw his pretty little girlfriend get her bachelors degree. She looked so gorgeous in the white outfit he had picked with her, so pure and innocent.

Charles genuinely wondered how she hadn’t noticed all the security that constantly followed him. How was he only 27 with an entire estate under his name? It really made Charles ponder. Maybe she noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up.

Regardless, he was the proudest person in the room, eyes beaming with glee as she threw her cap up in the air with joy enriched onto her face. With her only being 20, their relationship was the root of all the gossip in town.

It was strange, really. 7 years wasn’t that bad. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him the most. He never let such thoughts bother him, especially since he was running one of the most discreet underground mafia. Charles knew the risk of getting her involved in his life. He knew that she would forever be tangled in his dirty business, whether she knew it or not. He hated the way that she drew in people with her charm and charisma.

In Charles' world, more attention meant a higher probability of ending up dead. Just thinking about something happening to her made his blood boil. She’d never be harmed. Little did Charles know that pissing off the Russian Mafia came with its drawbacks. The Russians played fast and dirty. They’d attack where it hurts the most. Due to their undercover agent in her university, they knew exactly who she was. Every little detail from the timings she enters and exits the university to the car that comes to pick and drop her.

The Russians were smart, very smart. They knew the best way to hurt Charles was to hurt his girl. They knew kidnapping would not work as she was heavily guarded at all times. So they came up with a public declaration of war. They were going to attack her at her graduation ceremony, in front of everyone, and most importantly, Charles.

This was their way to send a message. Frankly, ever since y/n and Charles started dating, he was ignoring his priorities with the mafia and appointed most of the tasks to Kyviat, who turned out to be a traitor. Some may say Charles’s lack of attention caused him to lose the most important person in his life. Just as they called out her name, the first shots fired. Almost in an instant, Charles whipped his head so fast you could hear a bone crack. He knew this was planned. He prayed and hoped deep down it wasn’t a message for him. He knew Alonso’s daughter also went here and selfishly hoped it was for him.

All his prayers fell on deaf ears when he saw his precious angel falling, almost in slow motion, with her white dress that he loved oh so much turning ever so red with each passing second. He knew he messed up. He had so much love he still needed to show her. The engagement ring in his pocket felt like hot coal, burning him almost taunting him painfully. He had everything planned out, each moment, each step. He never expected her to be ripped out of his arms. He had destroyed homes and families.

He knew he had unpaid karma. And just when he started becoming a better person, he had to pay his karma in full. They say the day she bled out in his arms was the day hell froze all over again. Each of her deep and labored breaths haunted his soul for the rest of his life. He still had days where he could imagine her next to him. If people thought Charles was cruel before the shooting, they would be very wrong.

Seeing the love of his life lying still on a ventilator enraged a different type of devil in him. He hunted each and everyone involved in the shooting like he was hunting animals. He shot, stabbed, burned, bleached, skinned, and mutilated each and everyone. It was borderline psychotic. By day, a doting boyfriend in the ICU. By night, a cold-blooded killer on the loose.

Each morning when he returned, he would utter the same words over and over again, “ça aurait dû être moi, pas toi, ça aurait dû être moi, ma chérie, pas toi. je suis désolé je suis désolé.”

Charles had lost it. More than ever, his reign of terror only ended when she opened her eyes again. He never touched another gun or affiliated with the mafia ever again.

The both of them found a safe haven in the Swiss Alps, only returning to Monaco when everything was over, Charles becoming the most protective person ever known to have lived. His large hand placed on her ever prominent belly. Monaco saw the aftermath of what happens when you mess with Charles Leclercs wife. That was the only incident that ever involved y/n. Charles made sure of it after all she was his and he protected what was his. His overprotective nature plus his power made sure she was safe.

#charles leclerc x wife reader #f1 scenario #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mafia!charles leclerc #mafia!f1 #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #fernando alonso x reader #formula one #monaco #monte carlo #ferrari

[https-yeonjun]

yours. (h.kk)

wc. 1300

genre. smut

tags. kai x fem!reader, established relationship, jealous and possessive reader, kind of manipulative reader but not to kai, messy making out, unprotected sex, sub!kai, simp!kai, kai who loves his gf, strength kink (if you squint lol) just two people desperately and madly in love with each other idk what else to tell you

a/n. MINORS DNI!!!! i've been wanting to write for kai for so long omg, this is finally it. please go easy on me this is one of the first things i've written in a while so i'm not super proud of it. (i’m pretty sure there are no gendered pronouns/language but i just put fem reader to be safe)

more of my work

kai knows how it goes every time.

the two of you are at a party that you brought him to, but instead of socializing with your friends like you usually do, you are standing in a corner in the kitchen, sulking as your boyfriend laughs at whatever story they are sharing with him.

you were fine when the two of you walked into the doors but then all of a sudden, something ticked you off and now your arms are folded close to your chest, opening up only so you can sip from the can of hard seltzer that you hold.

it always starts out this way.

phase two commences when he slips away to meet you. he teases you. he playfully asks why you’re in the corner by yourself. he takes your drink out of your hand and places it on the counter behind you. he cups your face to give you a peck on your forehead. you roll your eyes and you reluctantly give him your hands when he flashes you his unbearably charming smile. and he knows that you can’t say no to him when he drags you back to meet your friends.

next, he wants to reassure you and make sure that you’re okay so he’s all over you when the two of you rejoin the circle. you’re enveloped by his large frame, the smell of his cologne lingers around you, and every so often, his lips gently find their home around your face — on your forehead, on your cheeks, on the bridge of your nose, on your glossy lips.

then something happens — and this part is really important.

someone always makes a comment about the two of you. and it always happens to be the same person. ugh, you guys are so cute. they quip. i wish i had a relationship like that. you’re not sure why, but everytime they do this, it always bothers you. maybe it’s their tone, or the way they cock their head to the side at the end of the sentence, that bothers you so much. maybe it’s the smile they give you after that is laced with so much venom that no one else seems to notice. or maybe it’s the fact that apparently no one knows how they weaseled their way into your friend group but since they made their appearance, they have made it a point to make you feel so uncomfortable every time you see them.

regardless, kai always looks forward to this part of the evening, especially when you sigh, give your fakest smile, and say thank you, dragging out the last vowel. you caress his arm and kiss his cheek, snuggling closer to him for the next ten minutes. and once your mental timer goes off, you let out the most practiced and performed yawn. i think we’re going to call it a night, you announce to your friends.

you say your goodbyes and you walk out hand in hand with your boyfriend. he opens the door for you when you get to the car, and now you can drop the pretense.

he can tell that you’re upset. not with him though, you’re never upset with him.

you don’t talk for the entire car ride home. the only sounds are the gentle hum of the car engine and the low indie music that graces the radio.

when you get home, however, the flip switches.

they make me so mad, baby, you don’t even understand. you begin, kicking off your shoes at the door. kai trails behind you, picking up your shoes, rubbing your back, trying to soothe you.

and the way they look at you, you groan at the thought. you turn around to look at your boyfriend. you’re mine, you lean up to kiss him. he hums into the kiss but you pull away.

i need you to say it to me— you’re mine. you repeat again and he repeats after you, almost like you have trained him to follow your every command.

this is the moment he was waiting for all night — when you decide to take your anger out on him.

he drops all the things in his hands and you drag him upstairs to your bedroom. somewhere along the way he rids himself of his clothes so when you push him onto the bed, he is just in his boxers. you kiss him more passionately, with more force. his eyes roll back in pleasure as you kiss down to this chest, leaving bite marks along the way.

you so badly want to be mean to him, tease him, maybe even force him to cum in his underwear. kai loves how selfish you get when it comes to your pleasure. you grind against him only thinking about getting yourself off. but when you sit up to look at him, you remember that you’re not mad at him. you could never be mad at him, not when he gives himself up to you so readily.

you especially love how dazed and pretty he looks when you ride him. your hips roll against his so perfectly and he feels like he’s floating. he needs to dig his nails into your skin to ground himself, to remind himself that this is real — that you are real and that you are his and that he is yours.

you lean down to kiss him, softly cupping his face. he relaxes his hands, sliding them around your waist and pulling you closer to him. the soft kiss deepens when he starts desperately sucking on your tongue. he is so messy as he moans into your mouth. his lips trail away from your mouth, peppering open mouthed kisses around the lower part of your face, sucking along your jawline.

you try to change angles and bounce harder, but he pulls you back down despite your groans as you push yourself up. he’s quick to apologize though: i’m sorry, i’m sorry i-i just he breathes out. i love you. he repeats like a prayer and he grinds up against you.

but just as he is desperate for you, so are you for him. you fervently roll your hips into his. you hide your face in the crook of his neck, biting down on his collarbone as you edge yourself.

as if it is possible for the two of you to be any closer, when your hips begin to stutter, kai holds you closer to his body. it’s okay, i got you. he assures you as he digs his nails into your skin. he thrusts up sloppily and his moans fill the room.

please, please let me cum. let me make a mess out of you. you can’t say no to his pleas but the feeling of euphoria fills your body as you inch closer to your orgasm. the only thing you can do is choke out a weak, yes, please.

his eyes cloud over and your eyes flutter close when you feel his hips stutter just as a string of curses escapes his lips. he pumps his load deep inside you, spurts of cum coat your throbbing pussy, feeling especially warm against your sweaty skin.

he gives you both a moment to calm down before rolling you onto your back. you lean over to him to leave tender kisses all over his face, whispering i love you’s.

he pulls away to meet a pout on your face. where are you going? you ask him.

i wanna clean you up. he proceeds to stand up no, no, no, you protest, pulling him back down to the bed to lay next to you. forget about that; just stay here for a moment. you hold him close to you and you end the night telling him how good he is to you.

taglist: @dearlyjun @atinyniki @boba-beom @wolfytae-exe @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @wccycc @ryunjin0 @thejadeazalea @wayvisyummy @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @snghoonluv @itzzz-yerin @ujisworld

fill out this form to join my taglist!

#fay's works #txt smut #hueningkai #hueningkai smut #kai smut #hueningkai drabble #kai drabble #huening kai #huening kai smut #huening kai drabble #tomorrow x together smut #tomorrow x together #hyuka smut #hyuka txt

[applepieshy]

I had an idea to redesign vox because I didn't love that a character obsessed with modernization would wear a top hat and bowtie. then after a brief stint into madness where I read my partner's historic costuming textbook I drew.... all this.

(side note: the idea of vox being a trans man who transitioned AFTER death was super compelling and absolutely inspired by @prince-liest so while this is not direct fanart of their series I wanted to give a shoutout anyway!!!)

okay some TRULY unhinged rambling about historic costume below the cut YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

1950s: for this design I very much did not want to go to the typical a-line housewife look, because I feel that is unfitting for vox's character. instead I went for a more business look, but there is still a level of femininity that he would have been expected to perform. i wanted to express his discomfort with that through the pose and expression, though at the time he wouldn't necessarily have a framework for why he hated it

1960s: this one was very fun. i loved the idea of vox beginning to eschew some of the expected feminine presentation, and he no longer wears makeup, jewelry, or hose (though its hard to tell in black & white); however, he's kind of at war with himself in this time period. he's obsessed with seeming perfect and having a respectable image, so he would not go in for the counter-culture movements that were so big in the 60s. he's still kind of riding those coattails though, pushing those boundaries while still not acknowledging his queerness.

1970s: to me, it was very important that the gender hit as he entered the world in color. in my mind the gender euphoria is physically manifested in a wizard of oz situation - he can become who he always has been. anyway, gender aside, I think it was very important to me personally that he wore an ascot. it was for my mental health.

1980s: I wanted the 1980s to be the period where he began to gain some power and notoriety because of the de-regulation of television during this period to allow more ads, mirroring real-world history. I think if the 70s were when vox gained some real confidence, the 80s are when he got an Ego (tm). "business casual" also began to become more acceptable in this time period, and the t-shirt/suit jacket combo was very important for me to include, as to me it epitomizes the commercialism and machismo of the 80s.

1990s: this was actually the decade I was the most nervous to design, and yet I think it turned out the best? the 90s are known for grunge, which I think is NOT vox's style at all. I decided instead to lean hard into the yuppie look, which I know is more associated with the 80s but was definitely still a thing in the 90s. I also allowed a little hip-hop influence in the form of a gold chain from val, which is not something I think vox would ever pick on his own.

2000s: if the 90s were the decade I was worried about and turned out great, the 2000s are the decade I thought I had down SO GOOD and then totally floundered in execution. I still love the bubble-mac inspired head, and I tried to make his clothes as "round" as possible. I also like that this is the time where his saturation got cranked. however, I don't know if I'm in love with the vest and super bright sneakers, because again, looking back on it, he kind of looks like he works at a movie theater or best buy or some shit lol,,,

2010s: I think it's telling that this is by far the closest to his canon design (2014 tumblr lookin ass). I really wanted to pull from that hipster tech bro era, but unfortunately that aesthetic has a veneration for "retro" which again, is not fitting for vox. I still think he would wear the bowtie during this time because, well... he sure does in the show!

2020s: this was fun because I had an excuse to pull from haute couture design rather than street fashion because of the introduction of velvette into his life. I truly do not think velvette would let vox and val walk around in the outfits that they do because it would be an actual embarrassment LMAO. for this, I wanted his decorative "robes" to be evocative of the time he depicted himself as a priest AND of a cape/robe of an emperor. he does think of himself as that bitch, after all.

#vox #trans vox #vox redesign #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin fanart #my art

[yergink]

to me, the most telling line about izzy’s character comes from his deathbed speech. it’s when he tells ed that blackbeard was the both of them.

now, i am not operating under the assumption that this is true, but it’s important to note that izzy believes it is. and this specific belief being textually confirmed by canon explains so much about him.

the way izzy treats ed makes infinitely more sense to me when read through the idea that his imposition of toxic masculine ideals onto ed are a lot less about ed specifically and more about izzy’s view of the intersection between him, ed, and the idea of blackbeard—a figure who does not really exist in the way izzy perceives him.

the question of “why is izzy so obsessed with what ed does, anyway?” isn’t answered by love or loyalty grown out of a once-decent partnership turned sour, but by izzy’s near character-defining selfishness. because what he’s done is grafted his personal self-image and ambition onto ed’s back, and begun to scrutinize the two of them like they’re the same person, as if he has the right to do so, and he’s doing it under the curtain of his own hangups and biases.

this is why he sneers about how people need to call ed by “blackbeard” or “captain” in s1 in the same manner he sneeringly corrects his own name and title. because izzy sees them as equally disrespectful to him. and i maintain this is the same reason he takes credit for stabbing the portrait in 2x03—it’s instinct for him to defend ed’s image, because izzy sees a sleight against the image of blackbeard as a sleight against himself, too. because he believes himself to be a piece of the legend. if blackbeard seems a fool, then what does that say about his first mate?

we talk about ed viewing izzy as a father figure, but i haven’t seen much talk about the way izzy, like a toxic parent, is attempting to live vicariously through ed. i haven’t really seen any mention of how izzy’s outbursts over ed’s behavior feel so reminiscent of the way an insecure parent scolds their child because of what they imagine the way their child acts says about them.

ed himself matters much less to izzy than what the icon of ed-as-blackbeard stands for, and—more importantly—how it stands to benefit izzy.

we see in s1 that izzy makes a shit captain, but he revels in holding power over others (i was going to put a list of examples here to back up the point, but it got too long. view any ep of s1 with izzy in it for an example). if being blackbeard’s first mate is the best he’ll get, then he’ll claw onto that position with both hands.

him giving up that lust for power, humbling himself, and accepting community instead (in taking the unicorn leg when, up until then, he'd been very much rejecting any offer of help), is an important point of his arc, but you need to understand just how astronomically selfish izzy was beforehand to fully appreciate it.

bottom line, any reading of izzy that discounts how in s1 he’s an extremely “the king’s evil chancellor vying for the throne”-type character is maybe missing something.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd meta #marine blogs #hopefully this makes sense? been picking away at this post for a while now #hesitant to actually add his tag on this..

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader confesses to the Demon Brothers

Characters: Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo and Beel (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Anon request: Could I request headcanons for Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, and Beelzebub, react to shy gn crush confessing to him nervously?

.

A/N: life became hard for 4 full days and writer's block hit me with the power of a thousand suns. Then I went to therapy and I immediately started writing. Here it is, folks, 1899 words.

.

Mammon

There’s no doubt that Mammon loves to have fun. Either counting money at casinos or wildly drinking and dancing at various clubs, the sight of him with the occasional fling by his side is not a strange one for the demon folk.

He doesn’t look for it; it’s not like he needs to, anyway. After all, who wouldn’t like to be with The Great Mammon? He’s a catch!

But no, it isn’t something he needs to feel good. His heart beats for one thing and one thing only: money. Gold sparkling on his fingers and coins filling his pockets, what else is there to live for?

His brothers would never understand him. When Beel empties the kitchen it’s cute, but when he steals Levi’s figurines, Asmo’s jewellery and Lucifer’s wallet suddenly it’s a problem.

And what’s his punishment? Taking care of a dumb, weak, boring human.

You better leave him alone, MC! He’s a very important demon and he has very important things to do! Don’t you listen to what his brothers say about him! Listen only to him!

Also, pay him attention and ignore the others! He’s so much better, you know? Can’t you see by now? He wishes you did and he isn’t sure how he feels about it.

The pang in his chest, his reddened cheeks and his avoidant gaze aren’t things he’s used to, but they become the norm once he spends more time with you.

Enduring his brothers’ jokes and taunts is humiliating and he perfectly knows he would act the same if he wasn’t the one involved, but damn MC, why do you have to be the way you are? Why are you so easy to fall in love with?

You have to feel the same, right? With your stammering and your bashfulness, you have to feel the same.

Mammon thanks his Father when you invite him to your room out of the blue and blurt out your feelings. The situation is ridiculous, he’s sweating buckets and your hands won’t stop shaking.

He tries to confess back without directly saying he loves you.

Key word ‘tries’.

Leviathan

Love is not for him, or rather, he’s not made for love.

That’s just who he is. A shut-in who finds companionship in fiction, in the idealization of friendship, romance and loyalty. His expectations are set way to high, near long opening titles and uninterrupted rambles, and he doesn’t expect people to reach them. Is he even worth the effort?

He has internet friends who he met through online gaming and forums and he cherishes them very much, but it makes him feel lonely and insecure sometimes. What type of life do they have when they’re not gaming or role playing or just talking on video calls with him? Do they act like plain old normies, taking their partners out on dates or having lunch with their classmates after class?

He prefers not to think about it.

Your arrival to the Devildom doesn’t change his life at all. He’s curious, sure, but what are the chances of you sharing his interests? Also, you quickly become friends with Mammon, which says enough about yourself.

At least, that’s what he thinks at the beginning. Time passes, as well as the TSL quiz, and he immediately realizes that you’re not who he thought you were.

There’s no judgement in your eyes whenever he rants about the latest piece of media he has consumed, instead filled with curiosity and fascination; and not only you’re the sole person in the house that doesn’t make fun of him, but you also defend him against his brothers.

His romantic feelings for you grow strong and fast, but your friendship is what’s most important for him.

You’re so, so much better than what he initially thought, even when you remind him of himself sometimes.

The glint in your bashful gaze, the doubt in your words in search of the right ones and the everlasting fidgeting with your fingers. You are the perfect romantic interest from the perfect otome game and he can’t believe how lucky he is to be the main character.

When you finally confess to him under the comfort of the blue lights of his aquarium, you’re barely able to finish your sentences while looking at him, which in reality is a blessing, because he can’t bring himself to look at you either when he confesses back.

It’s awkward, but sweet. Kind of like him.

Satan

Romance is for him what a painting is to the viewer. A novel to the reader.

He understands the significance, the words, the colours. What the creator wants to portray and what the consumer interprets. Narrative rules, the significance of flowers, metaphors, history… All of that mixed with the abstract of the mind.

He understands.

He just doesn’t feel it. Not at its full potential, at least.

There had been partners in his life, years ago, and he knows he’d loved them, but he wasn’t in love with them. Whatever line kept him from going forward with his feelings is what made him stop trying alone.

Books and cats and the Anti Lucifer League are enough for him to be occupied. They also make him happy, so his views on romantic love are easily set aside.

He doesn’t think much of you at the beginning, mainly because he doesn’t expect you to last very long, but you quickly show an amount of potential he’s ready to exploit.

Diavolo dreams of unifying the three realms and Lucifer would do anything to not spoil those plans, so what better way to annoy his brother than through you?

It’s selfish and reckless and of course his eagerness screws the whole thing up, but it ultimately helps him realize he shouldn’t have underestimated you.

You are kind, brave and smart. You see him beyond his wrath and his academic knowledge, remembering him even in the smallest of details that surround you. It was such care and affection that made his feelings grow.

For the first time in his very long life he starts to relate to the characters in his books, his heartbeat increasing when the scenarios feel too familiar or when the dialogues replicate exactly what he yearns to say to you.

It’s thanks to his novels that he recognizes your feelings. The shy and endearing romantic interest quietly approaching the main lead, confession learnt by memory.

His first reaction is to be surprised. He doesn’t expect something like this to happen to him, let alone you being the one to reciprocate his feelings. How much luckier could he be?

Asmodeus

What better love exists than the one he feels for himself? He’s beautiful, charming, adorable, addictive and every other compliment in the book. He can’t get enough of them!

He’s obsessed with the idea of being surrounded by people, by their affections and their devotions, touching him, looking at him, singing him praises. Unfortunately for everyone else, his narcissistic tendencies only grow when those that fall under his charm feed into his “delusions”.

That’s how Mammon calls it, at least.

At the time of receiving, he doesn’t distinguish between romantic love and sexual attraction, although it’s more difficult for him to reciprocate the first one.

Deep down, hidden amongst his insecurities, Asmo believes no one would love him for his truest self. That’s why he insists on looking perfect at all times, following a strict sleep schedule and a well-balanced diet, going out to remain in everyone’s minds; always a trending topic, a sensation.

If his outstanding physique and impeccable personality aren’t enough for you to know he’s the best amongst his brothers, then his charm would do the work.

But it doesn’t.

When he purposefully makes eye contact there’s no sign of you falling for his magic and, suddenly, he finds himself at a loss of words.

He doesn’t panic too much, given that he is still a beautiful and powerful demon that could devour you in a second, but knowing that there’s no barrier between the two of you to protect his vulnerability gives him an unpleasant feeling of exposure.

Surprisingly enough, it’s also your resistance to his powers what centers his attention on you. You’re one of the very few people that knows him as he is, even with the ugly parts, and it doesn’t take too long for his affections to become obvious and somewhat desperate.

Asmo is elated when your behaviour around him changes. He recognizes the pattern, since he’s seen it many times in his fans, and he can’t believe that someone who’s seen him at his worst still considers him as beautiful as those who have only seen what he wanted to show.

Although you don’t really need to confess, due to him immediately wanting to be with you, hearing your feelings spoken out loud sends his heart into a frenzy rhythm.

The attention fuels his ego, sure, but it’s the veracity of your words what makes him want to cry out of happiness.

Beelzebub

He’s not really interested in relationships. There is a fling here or there, sure, he still has other type of urges, but he hardly thinks about it.

The feeling of emptiness follows him around like a metal ball and chain and the only consumption that can give him relief, even if temporarily, comes only in the form of food.  

He’s often seen as emotionless or famished and, although he knows he’s popular amongst many students, his height and muscles make him look too intimidating to engage further than necessary.

It isn’t something that bothers him at all. His love goes straight to his family and there’s nothing food can’t fix.

However, when he is told Belphie is the demon chosen for the student exchange program, the hole inside of him grows deeper and deeper. His urges go on a rampage and Lucifer has to give him a pep talk to drill into his brain how important it is that you are to remain uneaten.

It’s not like he’s very interested in you anyways, so leaving you alone doesn’t feel like a draining task.

Of course that changes when you physically put yourself between him and Lucifer. A stupid, idiotic, reckless decision that serves to prove how brave you are.

Your friendship quickly blossoms after that and, unlike many other people, you start seeing him beyond his hunger. That makes him cherish you even further, but it’s your dedication to helping his family what sparks a romantic interest in you.

Since he’s not that experienced in that regard, it feels a little intimidating, but you make it seem easy and effortless. The both of you are equally shy in your affections and there’s a mutual unsaid understanding that helps you build the base of a relationship, so the confession isn’t really necessary.

Still, hearing you say the words makes his heart flutter.

His response is short and blunt, but sweet in nature. He is blushing the whole time, not breaking eye contact with you, and for the first time in many years, he feels completely satisfied.

.

.

Tagged: @darkflowerav

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

[rheas-ripley]

Championship Blues

Summary: Rhea Ripley just lost her championship and needs a little help coping with the loss.

Warnings: just a bunch of tooth-rotting fluff!

Word Count: 1k

Author’s Note: hi angels! this is my first oneshot ever so plsplspls let me know how i did! message me with anyyy thoughts on how to make my writing better cuz i wanna keep doing this :) also this is not proofread lol but send reqs

——————————————————————————

Pain. Pain was all that Rhea felt as she walked through the gorilla after telling the whole world that she was suffering from a shoulder injury and would have to vacate her championship title. Rhea Ripley wasn’t an emotional person. She had a reputation to keep in the ring. But today, Rhea was nothing but emotional over the loss of her title. To lose one of the most important things in her life was very hard on her. So pain was the only thing Rhea felt in that moment.

To say Rhea losing her championship was a big change would be understating it tremendously. To put it into perspective, Rhea and Y/N have been together as long as Rhea had been champion. Rhea is at the height of her career and getting injured at a time like this is just a big inconvenience that no wrestler would ever want to experience. Of course everyone knows the risk of getting injured and that it could always happen to you, but no one ever expects something like this to happen to them. Especially not the Women’s World Champion.

As she walked through the curtains, Rhea was met with her fellow Judgement Day members ready to greet her and give their condolences. The Judgement Day was her wrestling family, her home away from home. These people were there for her when no one else was, especially her girlfriend Y/N.

“Hey guys,” Rhea forced a brief smile before returning to the slight frown that had been glued to her face all day. It was obvious that this was taking a toll on the raven-haired girl since she normally held a more positive demeanor when she wasn’t in the ring.

“It took a lot of strength to go out there and do that baby. You’re the best champion WWE has seen in a while and your reign was amazing. I know you’re gonna come back stronger than ever,” Y/N spoke and walked over to her girlfriend, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. If they were alone Y/N would have just held her girlfriend tight and kissed all of her sorrows away but she wanted everyone else to get a chance to say what they wanted to Rhea before Y/N whisked her away and kept her all to herself.

“Yeah that wasn’t an easy thing you just did lass,” Finn said and everyone agreed. The Irish man stepped out and embraced Rhea in a hug. “We are so proud of you and can’t wait for you to come back.” Finn slightly rubbed Rhea’s back before releasing her.

“Hurry back Rhea, the Terror Twins have more shit to start!” Damian joked, trying to lighten the mood. He then maneuvered through the group to hug her and kissed the top of her head. “Get well soon hermosa,” Damian added and ruffled her hair up a little bit. The two have always been the closet out of the group, besides Rhea and Y/N of course. They just seemed to understand each other in a way only they could understand and shared a familial bond like no other.

“We all love you so much mami,” Dom chimed in with a smile. This was true, everyone in the Judgement Day loved Rhea very much. She was the glue that held the group together.

“Thank you guys so much,” Rhea voiced and looked around the room. All that was running through her head in that moment was how long she’d be away. Of course she had hope that the group would survive without her, but what about her title? Who would be the new Women’s World Champion? “Alright babe I think it’s time we head back to the hotel.” The raven-haired girl said as she glanced down at her Apple Watch.

Once the pair arrived at their hotel room, emotions were running very high. Rhea was sad and silent as a mouse, not one to begin the conversation pertaining to her feelings. Y/N knew this though and wanted to make sure her girlfriend was okay.

“Baby I know this is hard for you,” Y/N huffed as she laid next to Rhea on their shared hotel bed. The lights were low and the television was only slightly heard. Y/N placed one of her hands onto Rhea’s and the other on her stomach. “How are you feeling right now?” She questioned and looked over at her girlfriend.

“Honestly,” Rhea started, gathering the words that she wanted to say, “I’m scared.” She sighed and continued, “I’m scared that when I come back, everyone will have moved on. I mean what’s gonna happen when I come back and there’s a new champion and everything’s different ya know?” Rhea ran her free hand through her hair, visibly frustrated.

“I know baby, I know it’s hard. But you are way better than any,” Y/N emphasized the last word, “woman on that roster. When you get back, I’m sure the fans and everyone else will be begging for you to reclaim your spot as champ.” She rolled over and straddled Rhea, showering her face with kisses and leaving marks from her lip gloss everywhere. Rhea’s frown suddenly turned into a smile which caused another one to form on Y/N’s face.

“You are so amazing baby and everyone loves you. You were the best champ and will continue your reign when you get back,” Y/N spoke and brushed a stray piece of her girlfriend’s hair behind her ear. The pair locked eyes and in that moment, Rhea knew that everything was going to be okay.

“I love you so much Y/N, thank you,” Rhea slightly nuzzled her head into Y/N’s hand and gave it a kiss. Rhea wrapped her other hand around her girlfriend’s waist and pulled the girl closer to her. “Now enough talk about wrestling, can we find something to watch?” Rhea suggested, her mood clearly brighter. Of course their conversation wouldn’t solve all of her problems or clear up all of her doubts, but it did give her temporary clarity. Rhea knew that through whatever would happen to her, she’d always have her girlfriend in her corner.

#rhea ripley #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #mami rhea #rhea ripley fanfic #fluff #rhea ripley fluff #the judgement day