#3-4 muses lmao

[sunburnacoustic]

My friend dropped by my radio show this week, and of course I had to ask her to repeat the Muse story for my listeners! She was so so lovely and obliged, and I'm going to post it here for you! (We chatted about it)

I've got to credit her in thanks! If you want to hear her radio show, she's emsgems03 on IG

Edit: Cavern Club show we were talking about (via @killedbythegroove)

[storyhaunt-a]

people are pissing me off this morning*, so friendly reminder that the vast majority of the characters found on this blog are, in fact, transgender. canons and originals both. if that's something you take issue with or are uncomfortable with, i am gesturing towards the door. i have no intention or desire to change how i portray my characters, and their transness is not a point of shame for them or me.

[suna1suna1]

Ah yes my Strange the Dreamer brainrot is coming back again lmao

[lumilasi]

One thing I wish I didn't struggle so much with occasionally, was keeping characters looking consistent. Even with the ones I draw a lot, I sometimes find myself going "oh, actually this doesn't look like them, dammit I did it again"

— me today looking at the Avane doodles I made yesterday

[giftedeath]

sort of here, sort of not here ... but like this for a short starter !

[protect-namine]

oh btw, my eye is healed enough that I can look at things without sunglasses and not be in pain when blinking (obviously, since I'm blogging more often again and writing long posts). though I'm still supposed to use the antibiotic eyedrops for a week and the normal lubricant eye drops for like... a month

anyway so I guess if you ever get into a situation where you scratch your cornea, uh get that checked with your eye doctor so they can prescribe the eye drops because I mean. if it doesn't get infected, that's great, but if it does, that's not good. my fingernail was being treated for a fungal infection and since that's that one that hit my eye, I checked with a doctor just in case and they were like. really worried lmao, mostly because apparently it's hard to get the right antifungal eyedrops where I live. antibiotics are fine, but then they can't presecribe me the ones with steroids. there really is a whole world of eye drops out there, who knew (the eye doctors, obviously)

right so if you get in that situation, wear sunglasses if your vision becomes sensitive to light, try to keep looking down (for some reason, it was more difficult for me to look at things at eye level), don't wear an eye patch no matter how tempting it is (dark and moist environments can encourage bacterial growth, which is what we want to prevent). and if you have super dry eyes like me, apparently you should really be diligent with those lubricant eye drops. I was told that even when my eye heals, if it's always dry the uh scrape? abrasion? could open up again

also my oil glands are a bit clogged but that's like, a genetic thing apparently, so I'm just born with dry eyes that just gets worse bc I stare at the screen for work, so yeah. take care of your eyes while you can!! trying to limit how much you blink because it's painful is really annoying!!

[masquenoire]

Not all of Roman’s teeth are real. Having gotten into many fights over the years (not to mention being on the receiving end of Batman’s fists on more than one occasion), many of his teeth have gotten knocked out, forcing him to obtain crowns. They are near indistinguishable from his natural teeth, which are frequently deep-cleaned and whitened to maintain his signature skeletal smile.

[lingeringscars]

My entire brain is probably going to be consumed by yellowjackets this month but I also am drowning just a lil

I have multiple papers I have to write & research to do & stats assignments etc this month. The semester ends 4/27 and then I have a month off before summer classes but have to work on a paper then too. Suffice to say I want to be here but final stretch of the semester so you know. Weeps.

[melancholy-menagerie]

((multis w/ readily available 'opens' for their muses are on a different level and have all of my respect- i aspire to be more like you;;; ))

[plutoswritingplanet]

It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha x Female!Reader) pt.4 (final)

a/n: we did it Joe! this chapter officially marks the first ever series i've completed lmao. thank you for all the support on this fic, every like, every comment, every out-of-pocket anon ask.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (like...fr this time), Blood and Violence, Manipulation.

Summary: After the wedding, Husband and Wife work out the intricate web of their relationship.

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Gurney looks at you as if you're already dead.

You hide from his gaze, ducking behind pillars, whenever you can hear his footsteps. It's truly depressing, the way your mentor shakes his head, as if, instead of looking at you, he's looking at a coffin. You suppose he might be right, he's the one with the most experience in the Harkonnen area. He's fought them, dined with them, seen their customs through and through. And now, his dutiful little student is about to be thrown into the very same world, he has relayed to you as a nightmarish fairytale. Still, a little misplaced optimism wouldn't kill him. Or just, a sliver of hope, an inclination that you might survive this. 

The day of your wedding rolls upon you like an oceanic storm, all chaos and rumbling. 

Here you sit, your bones locked with nerves, as the servants pack away your things. A futile thing, you muse to yourself. It's highly doubtful the Harkonnens will let you keep any personal items back from Caladan. They'll mold you into their image, until all your hair naturally falls out. The thought would make you laugh, but here's a servant, placing your jewelry into a case, which lands in a bag, which will be transported to the Harkonnen ship by the end of the day.

Your room, the place you've spent all your life in, slowly becomes more and more barren. 

The closet stands empty, so do the drawers. All your trinkets are swiftly transported away until you're left alone in your wedding dress, the only familiar thing between the hollow ribs of your life's sanctuary. Wishing you could fold the entirety of the castle, with the stables, and the horses, and the cliffs, and throw it into the final suitcase, so you can open it up in times of turmoil, and breathe in the familiar scents. You need to leave, right now. Sitting like this, wrenches a dangerous numbness out of your chest. And you can't be allowed to dissapear into yourself. You're an Atreides, you shall wear your pain with dignity, as per your Mother's wishes.

Your wedding dress swishes around you, as you stand up from your bed. It's much more classy, and less of a chiffon catastrophe, than your engagement dress, a welcome change. The veil is embroidered with light crystals and metal plating. It falls heavily over your face, and jingles when you move. By all intents and purposes, it is a dream dress. A dress you'd like to wear for a wedding of your own, a wedding with some dashing gentleman. A gentleman, which in your most private of dreams, has the face of Duncan Idaho, with silver rings braided into his hair. 

Instead, you're left with this monster, so alien and cold. A beast at the center of the maze.

The bull looks at you from the wall. Its horns, smeared with your Grandfather's blood, curl grotesquely into the ceiling. The head is mounted above the doors to the library, a grim reminder of his spectacular death. As a child, you'd spend hours, standing right here, at the entrance, staring at the animal's head. You've always wondered, whether it were the lights playing tricks on your mind, or you saw a shadow of pride in the bull's eyes. 

Did it know who was its victim? The leader of one of the most important Houses in all known universe laid dead at its feet. Did it know what sort of spectacle it produced? What destruction of hubris? You suppose it couldn't, it was an animal, after all. A headless creature, hung on a wall. Still, you stare at it, just like you used to, trying to decipher your own fate from its cold, dead eyes.  

After all, there will be a spectacle, a life-long fight stands ahead of you. Giedi Prime shall be your arena, dead and cold, covered in black. And every single Harkonnen will be your bull, their mere presence a deathly danger to your being. It took one bull to end your Grandfather, you dread to think how many it'll take to end you. There will be blood, you're sure of it. And if things were allowed to go your way, it would flow in rivers upon rivers, through the industrial halls of Giedi Prime. You'd have the entire planet drowned in their blood. Your cursed betrothed, the Baron, the fucking Emperor if you had to. 

The bull laughs at your quiet hate, beady eyes bearing down upon you in an imaginary display of indifference. You huff, cheeks reddened, insides twisted and burning.

That's how your Father finds you. Enchanted by a once living instrument of death. 

He hasn't spoken to you, since your betrothed has arrived, not really. Not like you used to talk. A way to shield himself, you supposed, from the Emperor's order, which will soon enough take his only Daughter away from him. This was your superpower. You could fish out signs of love in every action. 

- Your Mother hates that thing - he comments, as he stands next to you, eyes looking up at the bull. 

- I don't blame her, the sight is quite disturbing. - you reply evenly. 

You've missed him, more than you can possibly explain with words. But teary displays of affections were below you, especially since you're trying to distance yourself, rise above your body, float right out of your head. Perhaps it'll hurt less that way.  Duke Leto Atreides turns to you, and for the first time in a month, you recognize your Father behind this statue of authority. He looks troubled, for lack of a better word. There's much more gray on his brow and the lines of his face are darker, harsher. 

- I came to give you something - he announces, producing a small object out of the pocket of his trousers. 

It's harder than you thought, tearing your gaze away from the bull, but you manage, your eyes landing on a figurine in your Father's hands. Your heart stops, as you recognize the blackened stone, polished to perfection. On a flat disc stands a figure of a Matador, proud and posed. Next to him, a bull, ready to strike. It's cold to the touch, when you take it from your Father, ridges of the small sculpture digging into your palm. 

Jumping in front of danger, for better or worse. Your head starts to hurt.

- Father - the sound of your shaking voice carries through the corridor - How will I ever survive this?

By the way Duke Leto Atreides sucks in a sharp breath, you can deduce the answer. And what a sad answer it is. 

Your Father steps closer, gathering your trembling hands in his, the warmth of his embrace engulfing you like the first sun rays of spring. He squeezes your fingers, tightening your own hold on the small figurine, and his eyes are so incredibly sad, you're convinced they could make any heart in the universe weep. 

- With courage - he says - and grandiose. 

Like a true Matador would. 

***

Your bull stands completely still. 

His pale skin creates a beautiful contrast against the ever present darkness of the Harkonnen ship. It's so much different from your native fleet, all sleek and black, and efficient. Terrifying, but at the same time, strangely beautiful. 

The both of you watch, as the hatch is being pulled up, slowly but surely obscuring all sight of your home planet. Of your family, standing by the docking station like a funeral parade. It's only when you can no longer see them, your life sealed with a click of finality, does your betrothed, now husband, move. 

His hand grasps your upper shoulder, and you jump at the sudden contact. Your confused gaze is completely ignored, as the man drags you through the ship, taking large, hasty steps. 

Hairless faces swish past you, all so similar to each other, you're worried you'll never figure out who is who. The corridors of the ship wind and turn like a merciless labyrinth, a realization daunting on you, that you will never be able to find your way in this place. 

Suddenly, you're faced with a black door, which opens as soon as your husband walks up to it. His grip tightens and he basically throws you forward, watching you stumble through the entrance on weak legs. 

It takes you a second to gather yourself, as you instinctually settle into a defensive stance. The room you're in looks quite different from the rest of the ship. It's much more luxurious, one would risk saying cozy. With a gigantic, round bed filled with pillows, a dark desk, and a deliciously comfortable looking armchair. It all dims in your eyes, however, as you look up at your newlywed.

He stands right at the entrance, blocking the only means of escape with his tall frame.

Both of you are still in your wedding clothes. Your dress hugs your body in a way that is anything but comforting. His outfit is as black and sharp, as all his attire. It exposes his lean physique, clings to his warrior's physique. Terrifying, your brain summarizes, muscles freezing suddenly. Feyd Rautha looks at you with emotions you can't decipher in the low light of his room. Your room. Your marital abode. 

You can't breathe, lungs tighten painfull with the sheer thickness of the air between the two of you. Still, there's a certain power, residing in your bones, an inclination of a fight you're ready to put up, should he try anything. And by the way his brow bone settles over his darkened eyes, your husband seems to understand. What a terrifying thought. The sheer idea of finding a common ground with this awful man makes your guts turn. 

He doesn't even flinch, when the doors behind him slide open. You however, nearly jump out of your skin at the sound, cutting through the deafening silence of the bedroom. With furrowed brow you watch, as three Harkonnen women spill into the room. All of them completely hairless, lips pulled back in feral snarls, as they regard you with an emotion you can only interpret as contempt. Their bodies, clad in typical, Harkonnen garments, flow and slither, when they gather behind your husband, like three hungry lionesses, their black eyes flickering to him, to you. 

- Get her ready - Fey Rautha throws a command over his shoulder, eyes glued to you still, and his gaze drags itself across your body like tar.

This is the first time you've heard him speak since the wedding, and involuntarily, you cringe at the gravely sound. While he stayed silent, it was easy to forget who you're dealing with. But as soon as sound leaves his mouth, you're cruelly reminded of the roughness, and the strangeness of your life's partner. 

The three women stir behind him, hands sliding up his body in a gesture, that is almost too close to reverence. He does look like a young god, like some ethereal being, but you're too distressed to dwell on that thought. Instead, your arms encircle your body, a shiver of terror and strangely, disgust flowing over you, at the mere idea of these women touching you. Then, one of those three strange creatures moves forward. She has a stripe of black running down her bottom lip, and her face twists into a cruel smile.

She says something in a language you don't recognize. Probably a native Harkonnen. A rough bark, her disgusted expression translating the meaning better, than any dictionary would. 

 Still, you have no time to process the foreign insult, because as soon as words leave her mouth, your husband turns. His white hand grabs the woman's hairless head, as one would pick an apple from an orchard, and then, you see a flicker of true terror flash through the woman's face. In a smooth, deadly gesture, Feyd Rautha smashes her face against the wall, the resounding sound of her skull fracturing against the concrete is like the cracking of a whip in your ears. 

That's all it takes, one move, and she falls into a lifeless heap, sliding down the wall. 

A sigh escapes your lips, as your eyes stay glued to her body. You can't see her face. 

Your husband barks something towards the remaining two women, and they scurry towards you, heads hung low, bodies curled onto themselves. You don't know, whether he looks at you, acknowledges you in any way, shape or form. The doors close behind him, as he leaves you in the hands of his... Whatever these women are to him. 

They begin to strip you where you stand. Their hands peel off your wedding dress from your trembling body, and every move feels like tearing skin from muscle. You can't protest, can't do anything really. Dark, thick blood pools around the third woman's head, dripping between the tilled floor, slowly making it's way closer to your feet. 

When they pull you towards the bed, you say nothing. Let them massage your body with some ointment, which smells of heavy chemicals and scratches your throat. 

Their hands are unexpectedly delicate. You suppose they're too scared to take revenge on you, or perhaps, they just don't care. Doesn't really matter, because you do. You really care, despite yourself. Heart squeezes in your chest impossibly tight, when they help you up from the bed, and once again you're confronted with the white corpse in the corner of the room. 

The dress they pull over your body hardly qualifies as a garment in your eyes. It's made of delicate, sheer material, which barely covers anything, looking more like a courtain thrown over a window. 

Is this how he wants you, you wonder. Terrified, bare, always on the verge of something, be it tears or anger. 

One of the women steps in front of you, takes your hands in hers and rubs something into your cold bones. You try to catch her eye, try to decipher how to categorize them, as humans or as creatures, but she swiftly ducks under your inquisitive gaze. That is, until your eyes flicker towards the corpse once again. 

Her hand shoots up towards your chin, dragging you back to meet her onyx eyes. You can see the reflection of your own confused face in the void.

- You- she rasps, her voice a grating symphony of gurgles and growls that stumble over the common language - Soft.

Whether it's a warning, or a threat, you can't fully decide, but it doesn't matter. Those two words tell you more about your future life, than any book, any archived account. This is what the Harkonnens are made of. Sensless violence, outbursts of anger, dark blood. You swallow thickly, and nod, your expression hardening in the woman's eyes. She looks as if there's something else she'd want to say, but her head ducks at record speed, when the sound of the doors opening cuts through the air once more. 

For a longer moment you're completely devoid of words. 

Here stands you husband, some sort of fruit in his right hand, two daggers hanging from the belt on his trousers. His chest, white and (unfortunately) toned beyond belief stares back at you. His unoccupied hand makes a wide gesture, and the remaining two women scurry off towards their third, dead companion. With quick hands, they grab the body and drag it out of the room, letting the door slide closed behind them. Immediately, you miss their presence, unnerving as they are.

Once again, you're left alone with the na-Baron. 

His eyes float freely all over your figure, taking it in with an impassive stare. It's deeply unnerving, the way you're presented to him, the way he organized all of this, tailored it to his liking. You can't help it, the way your body begins to warm before him, skin becoming prickly to the touch, much too sensitive for the strange imitation of fabric covering it. Still, your mind stays sharp, and instinct kicks in, as you take a cautious step back, angling your bady away from him. 

- So, what now? - you ask, voice rough, eyes following his every move. 

And move he does, slowly advancing towards you. His feet, which you now discover, are bare, drag behind him. Grace and danger mix well within his movements, as he circles you, still without a word. You throat runs dry, when he bites the fruit in his hand, dark juice spilling all over his lips, drops rolling down his hands, his forearms. Your stomach churns. 

- Now - again you're reminded of the gravely tones his voice can carry - We consumate our marriage, wife. 

Somehow, your marital status sounds like a mockery spilling from his lips, and he laughs at the way your face scrunches.

- I don't want you to touch me - a lie, your entire body burns for any semblence of friction, but you're determined to keep some dignity.

To that, he nods his head in silent agreement, a gesture, which actually manages to surprise you. The fruit is thrown forgotten onto the floor. It rolls under the bed, and you fight the urge to reprimend your husband. Instead, you bite your lip. 

- I thought you would say that - he murmurs, coming closer, his breath fanning over your exposed shoulder. 

The hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you crane your head to the side, so you can look him in the face. So he can see the disaproving expression, perhaps he'd feel a fraction of the hate boiling in your gaze. Then, you can feel something, cold and sharp, drag itself from the dip in your spine, all the way up to your shoulder blades. A gasp escapes you, and your entire body shivers violently. 

- That's why I brought these. - Feyd Rautha whispers into your ear, and you can't help but sway lightly in your place, as if his words have the power to physically move you.

Then, your hand closes around a metal object, and you look down to be met with a beautifully crafted dagger. The blade is silver, shiny, and unbelievably sharp. It fits into your grasp as if it was made specially for you, and the possibility almost makes you smile. Then, confusion creases your brow, and your husband flashes you a deadly, black smile, as he steps back a couple of steps. 

He's holding a blade as well, jet black and strangely matte, a perfect antitype of yours. There's a sort of lazy excitement about him, hidden in every movement. It reminds you of the way he'd behave in the arena, while making a spectacle of death for you and your family. 

- I though this would work on you - he muses, twirling the blade in his hand, and your muscles seize with realization. - And it definitely works on me.

The idea is preposterous, utterly scandalous. Using a fight as some perverse attempt at foreplay, your brain swimms with conflicting emotions. 

- You're being ridiculous - you attempt to diffuse the situation, but your husband doesn't budge, rolling his shoulders.

- Come on, wife - he snarls, with a sharp smirk - Don't you want to hurt me?

Something boils inside of you at his words. Some ancient, terrifying anger that you supposed, has always been there with you. From the moment you stepped onto the red carpet, leading you towards your undoing at the altar. Red, like the spilled blood still staining the floor of this bedroom. The rage, which you swallowed down, when you recited the vows, when you let him unveil your face, kiss you in front of the entire Atreides court. Now, it seeped through every pore in your skin, covering you in a tar like courtain. 

You hate your husband. You hate Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Hate him for being your husband, for agreeing to this cruel match. For taking you away from your family, from your wise Father, and your strict Mother, and your sweet Brother. For ripping you away from love, which didn't even have time to properly bloom. Duncan's face dances in front of you like a taunting vision from an angry god, and your fingers tighten around the dagger. 

Feyd Rautha is right. You want to hurt him. You wanted to, before you even met him. 

- There you are - his lips pull back into a cruel, blackened smile of self-satisfaction - I was worried they took away all your venom, Viper. 

You'll show him fucking venom, you think, feet sliding on the floor, twisting your body into a dancing position. Two sets of shields click into life, and suddenly you begin to understand. 

This is your arena. This is your bull. 

This will be your battlefield for the rest of your life, for as long as you're able to withstand it. With courage and grandiose, your Father's voice haunts you, but soon after another echo rises in your mind. Your Mother, your teacher, her whisper slithers from your memory, a passing comment right before you're shipped off to Giedi Prime, when she squeezed your hand so tight, you were worried tendons under your skin would snap. 

Excitement and arousal flow freely from your husband's expression, as he watches yours harden. Something inexplicable settles over your features, a promise. You'll give him a fight of a lifetime, and he'll love it, every single time. It should unnerve you, the way his body lowers itself, like a panther ready to strike. It would've unnerved you some time ago. 

Now, however, it shows you a clear path to survival. This is how you take control.

Cold blood splatters from under your feet, as you jump towards him, a series of measured blows following closely behind. He blocks them, lets some be pushed back by the shield. Then, he's on you, brutal and unhibited slashes fly around your body, and you meet all of them with a blocking blade. You're pushed back, towards the wall, where remains of the previous killing still stain the concrete. Blood seeps into the thin fabric on your body, and you shiver in disgust, as it sticks to you. 

Your husband doesn't notice, his blade leaves a rather deep mark in the wall, as you duck under his arm, and avoid a nasty punch to the gut.

 Plap, plap, plap, your feet carry you through the room, as you try to gain some leverage. The mattress on the bed is surprisingly soft, when you climb on top of it, gaining the advantage of a higher position. An advantage, which is quickly torn out of your hands, as your husband grabs onto your ankle, tugging at it with such force, you tumble down in an instant.

Panic rises in your gut, as the world sins around you, and without really thinking, you let your mind flow into autopilot.

- Let me go! - the Voice tears out of your throat like a landslide, and Feyd Rautha throws himself off of you, his body colliding with the nearby desk. 

Books and papers crash to the floor with the force of his figure. Your head swimms, but you will it away, too focused on survival to care for your well-being. Both of you are panting, trying to recover from this sudden use of ancient magics. 

- I should rip that treacherous tongue right out of your skull - the threat would carry more strength, if your husband's expression wasn't absolutely dripping with unabashed lust. 

Never in your life has someone looked at you this way, and the shock of emotions is enough to pull you right to your feet. Your blade reflects the dim lights of the room, as you raise it high, body taunt and ready. 

- You'll never get that close.

A challenge, which doesn't even have enough time to properly resound in the thick air of the room, before Feyd Rautha pushes himself off the desk. Things clatter to the ground from the force of his movements, and you barely have time to react, when his blade sinks into your shield. Your body flies backwards, falling in heap with his at the foot of your marital bed. The edge digs into your back, your left hand pressed tightly into the mattress. 

He's hovering over you, panting like a wild animal, face illuminated red from below, where, just short of his juggular, your blade licks a stripe across his alabaster skin. His right hand is wedged between your bodies, dagger nicking you under your ribs. And you stay in this position, like a marble statue, your eyes melting into his, frozen in time. 

- You fought well, Atreides - his voice rumbles deep within his chest, and you can't help, but snarl at his words. - We would've taken each other to an early grave. 

Something dangerously close to fondness floods his features at the idea, and your fingers start to unravel, letting go of the dagger one by one. He doesn't have a chance to react, when your blade clatters to the floor, and your hand, now free, grabs the back of his head, pulling him down.

Your kiss opens the gates of hell, and soon, his own dagger is thrown across the room. You can't see, refuse to see, as your eyelids flutter closed. His lips are slightly chapped, but not any less delicious. Left hand thrashes in his hold, until he lets it go. Then, they both find purchase against his sharp cheekbones, and you hold him so tight, you might break his face with your ministrations. 

- I knew it would work - he pants against your lips, you can hear the smile in every syllable.

- Shut the fuck up - you snarl, fingers digging deeper into his skin.

He groans into the kiss, immediately forcing his tongue into your mouth, as his hands work hard to manouver your legs open enough, for him to slot in between. Then, his touch is everywhere. On your legs, he drags the sheer fabric up and down your thighs, as he carresses your skin, blunt nails digging into the flesh of your hips. They venture upwards, to grab at your breasts, they fight their way into your hair, where he pulls and scrapes. 

It doesn't matter, you think, when you hear the fabric tear, and the carefully chosen attire falls from your body. Nothing matters. 

You're boneless and defenseless against this one insidious emotion, which carries your every move, which compells you to arch your back, to reveal your running pulse under his searching lips. Feyd Rautha bites down on your skin, right where your neck meets your shoulder, and you respond in kind, head descending upon his porcelain skin. He shudders under your teeth and tongue, his entire body tensing.

This is how you take control, and you've never felt so greedy. 

His trousers aren't even fully off of his legs, when he enters you, clumsily and with urgency, bare feet sliding on the floor. Surprisingly inexperienced, he chases your core with his entire body, as if the heat of your insides in a completely foreign sensation.Your moan tears at the column of your throat, where his lips leave a trail of purple marks. The covers remains undisturbed, as your husband ruts into you, pressing your back harder against the edge of the bed. It's uncomfortable, it's hurtful, but somehow, it feels perfect for the two of you. Fucking like wild animals, not even able to make it onto the bed.

- I hate you - you repeat, like a mantra, broken voice cascading with every thrust. - I hate you, I ha- 

Your head rolls backwards, when a particularly hard thrust nearly breaks you, but your husband is here to help, his hand grabbing the the roots of your hair, bringing your head down, so you can watch as he performs a magic trick of repeatedly disapearing into your body. 

You're not sure who's blood his hand slips on, but suddenly, you're fully on the floor, your body crushed by his. Nothing stops his wild movements, not the sloppiness of it all, not the hard wails he tears from your body. If anything, the more strain his body is under, the more ferocious he's being. Your hand shoots up, all five fingers digging into his throat, and you're rewarded with an angelic moan, which almost brings you to your finish line. Almost. 

His head leans down into the crook of your neck, where he whispers something in Harkonnen, a gurgle of rough sounds, interrupted by sinful moans. He sounds so beautiful, so conflicted, for a second you consider being gentle with him. Alas, you hate him still.  

Another realization dawns upon you, as your feet kick with force into your husbands backside, to force him deeper, to keep him inside. This is still a fight. You're still on the battlefield, still waving a red flag in front of a raging bull. So, with courage and grandiose, your muscles tense, and you roll your husband over. 

The change in position makes both of you gasp in unison, as you sink down onto him. For a second, everything stops. His lips are red and swollen, sweat and blood mix on his skin, flow down in pinkish stripes. And he watches you, as one would a holy painting of a foreign god. With reverence and utter lack of understanding. You're fully aware the look is mirrored on your face. 

Slowly at first, your hips begin to rock, up and down, in a steady rhythm, that forces a shuddering breath to leave Feyd Rautha's lips. You bend down, to catch it, and because of your greed, you catch his bottom lip as well. The bite you give him is anything but romantic, and his hips jump from the floor, hitting a spot within you, you didn't know existed. He swallows your moan along with his own blood, and his fingertips map the curve of your spine, as you straighten upon him.

Fingernails latch themselves into the skin of his chest, as you speed up, chasing your own release and no one else's. Moans spill from your lips, the concept of shame abandoning your mind completely. Then, compelled by something dark and twisted you drag claw marks down his torso. 

His body shudders, and his hips lift off the ground, fucking into you with reckless abandon. The hold he has on the flesh of your hips is bruising, to say the least, but you did enough damage to call it even. Enough, to make your body tremble and tense up, as climax creeps up on you steadily. 

Like a shark sniffing for blood, he senses the change in your being, and as you tumble over the edge, a silent scream tearing at your throat, he suddenly rises into a seating position. His arms encircle you fully, pressing your sweaty bodies impossibly close, as he too finds his own end. 

It takes him second, to tumble over, filling you to the brim with ink. His head buries itself into your shoulder, inhaling your scent through deep gasps, each eliciting a broken growl from his chest. 

Your bones are gone completely, body relaxing and falling breathless into your husband's arms. After a while of sitting in complete stillness, he moves first. Strong hands lift you up, off of him, and you whine at the emptiness. 

Then, as a last hurrah, he throws you onto the bed, where your recovering body sinks into the soft mattress. It's heavenly, the way you seem to float in nothingness, head swimming from exertion. For a moment you don't even register him climbing into the bed with you, drunk on the fading tension seeping from your every pore.

The lights are almost completely out, yet his skin shines against the black comforter. You wish to see if he's flushed, like he was at the engagement party. Leaning on one arm, his fingers trail around the small wound under your ribs. Dried blood flakes off of your skin, and you shudder again. 

- I - you start, voice completely broken - I've never known hate, until I met you. 

You're not sure why you've said it. Perhaps, in this moment of serenity, truth seems to float to the surface much more easily. Or perhaps you're possessed, or worse, gone completely insane. Eother way, your eyebrows furrow, and Feyd Rautha leans down to kiss your forehead, gently. 

- If this is how your hate looks like - he whispers into your hairline, teeth scraping lightly against it - I dread to imagine your love. 

You'll never find out, you think, but for some reason can't fully vocalize it. 

He says something else, after a while, but your mind is becoming as heavy as your body, and as the day descends upon you in a heap of exhaustion, you fall asleep.

And while your story has nothing but suffering in the future, while there's death and mourning, and years of violence written in the stars for you. Right now, on the Harkonnen ship sailing through space to Giedi Prime, you sleep in the arms of your husband. Whether this strange symbiotic relationship will last, no one can tell, but there is hope, and what else could you possibly need? 

[strwbryien]

｢ ᝰ.ᐟ entry 03: ADDRESSING THE SITUATION⭑.ᐟ ｣

“hey, everyone. this feels... really strange to do on camera, not gonna lie. i’m used to just being a voice behind the screen, but here we are. so, um, i just wanted to address everything that's been going on.”

“i know a lot of you have seen what happened last stream, and i’m sure it was a shock. it definitely wasn’t supposed to go down that way, and i really hope i haven’t let any of you down.”

“streaming has always been something i love, and i hope this doesn’t change how you see me or what we’ve built together. i appreciate all of your support more than you know, and i hope we can keep going strong. thank you for sticking with me through this.”

kayekumi: we love you no matter what! face or no face, you're still the best streamer! ezravish: this doesn’t change anything, we’re here for you always <3 hartz4u: you’re so brave for addressing this head-on, we’re all behind you kumism: you’re beautiful, kumi!! no need to hide! da1suk4e: the real-life kumi is just as amazing as the one we knew! no disappointment at all

"wow... i don’t even know what to say. you guys are seriously the best. i was so nervous about this whole thing, but seeing your reactions just makes me feel so relieved. thank you, really. i don’t deserve you all.”

“it means the world to me that you’re still here, supporting me like this. i was scared i’d lose some of you after everything, but knowing you’ve got my back makes me so happy.”

“i promise i’ll keep doing what i love, and i hope we can keep having fun together—face or no face! you’re all amazing, and i’m so lucky to have you. thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

prev | masterlist | next

synopsis:

IN WHICH—you, although faceless, are a very famous streamer known as KUMI. you were streaming as usual, playing games and interacting with fans. but when you're about to exit the stream, you accidentally pressed the wrong button that led to you opening your cam and showing your whole face to your audience. this wasn't supposed to happen, no ! so you panicked and quickly ended the stream. numerous screenshots circulated on twitter, which broke both the fans and the internet. this reached a certain someone, SCARAMOUCHE, your rival in streaming. when the said boy saw the trending photo, he almost fell off his gaming chair. because—lo and behold! KUMI was actually [name]?! now who is this [name] in his life, if you may ask? she's the girl that scaramouche has been admiring from afar in real life! quite shocking, right? have i told you that he’s also been sending you anonymous love letters? oh well...

notes ᝰ.ᐟ

— i've been gone for so long, i feel so bad ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ — i honestly don't know what i was yapping about in kuni’s letter LMFAO i hope it's at least understandable — ik it's short TT, but i'm currently working on part 4 rn! hopefully, i'll be able to post it soon!

ꪆৎ taglist

(if ur @ is not in bold letters, it means that i can't tag you)

(taglist are unfortunately closed)

@imnotyizhuo @kazufavor @najaemism @simonisferal @lovelypadisarah @eternallykira-143 @yourfavoritefreakyhan @yuminako @035814 @squigglewigglewoo @lxkeeeee @blvdmrcnry @wth121 @lloovvv @3lectraheart @lovemiyae @danhenglovebot @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy @kyon-cherri @lalalaloveallmydays @musings-of-miss-j @ilxandra @lazy-sanns @vixialuvs @bananasquash @kochothehoe @lily-lmao @shutingstar @sketcheeee @minhosprettywife @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @kinanahana @featuredtofu @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @kleeboomed @saechiro @shyentsmissingink @poemzcheng @rifran @projectsfantasy @yejiswifex @peachystea @vi0let-writes @sicuit @hee-jinn @6blxe @viannasthings @trulyylee

[space-blue]

Avatar 3 D23 musings and analysis

Images drop on some BIG screens at D23 seems like!

First off, great new looks and close ups of Varang!

First off it's super dope. Look at her fingers! Looks like she's wearing claws (bone? forbidden metal? body mods). The notches on her belly and legs also look like potential scarifications!

Stuff I want to scream about on a personal level: The tswins... I made my Txepiva (ash Na'vi) fan clan to be warrior like, living in more desertic areas, and cutting queues as part of warfare. I also recently made a sketch to illustrate an idea to a friend that they may wear these queues in a bandolier tied to shoulders and hips as a show-off.

My Txepiva also have bare tail tips, and Varangs fits this too in this art, though I'm sure it's just the light rendering technique. If not, then I should apply for a job on the brainstorming team lmao.

Though I appreciate the idea of warfare and tswin cutting, I want to point out it's also possible that she's not actually wearing the tswin of her enemies, or at least not in the "this is how we kill other Na'vi" way.

The others around her are in obscuring and impractical headdresses, and this looks like a ritual. IMO it's very possible that the tswin she wears are that of ancestors, or old leaders, great warriors, or even enemies, collected and rebraided to create this distinct look. I particularly think it'd make sense for it to be made of the hair of past leaders and worn as a sort of crown, as nobody else is rocking that look in the image.

Next we have her weird not-an-ikran.

Glorious beast with 10 winglets where ikran have 4. It also has mouth frills, jaw frills, and a spike over its head, making it closer to stingbats in that area. Here's a super obvious comparison with an enlarged stingbat picture:

So their mount probaby evolved independantly from ikran. Would be fun if they also have poison.

Another FUN detail : GUNS!! Does it look like guns? Could be recoms then, Lyle, Q , and some new red shirt recoms... or could be Omatikaya wil RDA guns...

But for real, there are only two types of Na'vi with guns: the Omatikaya clan and the recombinants. Given past images in leaks ((remember this?))

It's most likely that the people interacting with Varang are going to be recoms and not Jake's people. BUT who knows where the plot will go. If it's recoms, I'd looove to know if it's 3 moffos because Q+Lyle+Mansk, or if we're getting new recom red shirts or what.

Then we have views of air ships, so we're getting to see the promised Wind Traders, with Neytiri in the forefront, and the Man'o'war inspired floaters being pulled by sky manta ray...

Not much to say about those. I just hope we get some high definition version released online soon.

If this reignites your hype for Avatar, go vote in this poll!

There's 20h left to vote, and I think we could all benefit from an event around december 2024, to pass the time before fire and ash's big dropin 2025.

[ronandreams]

people i want to get to know better 🥰

tagged by @mcavoyjames, @henrywinteris, and @swkywalker 💖💖💖

last song: lonely is the muse, halsey

favorite color: turquoise/blue and pink 💗

currently watching: house md!!! obsessed

last movie: i think it was beetlejuice beetlejuice! saw it in theaters, was a lovely time.

sweet/savoury/spicy: i love these 3 equally as if they're my children. but my weakest spot is spicy!! i always want that spicy option

current obsessions: house md lol. ummm.. sabrina carpenter. oh! i'm obsessed with those pop the balloon and find love videos on youtube 😂 especially with arlette, her vids are best

relationship status: boyfriend of over 4 years

last thing i googled: what degree you need to be a pharmacist. i was just curious, not gonna do that lmao

tagging (if you want to ofc): @vampirewillows , @heartwasglass , @joequinns , @munsonseds , @hellshee , @widowkills , @waxladrian , @pleasepleaseeplease, @bruceewayne, @saintirulan, @teamred, @obsessedx, @emmaestrella, @lookforanewangle, @tornadocowboy, @winterflell, @stevebcks .

[sylusjinwoon]

This is such a random question but have you ever written a story where the reader goes with jinwoo to the international guild conference(I think thats what its called)

Im not asking you to write it, you’ve already written so much. Its just that you have so many works I struggle to find a specific one

Byeeeeeee! Have a good day/sweet dreams

hey sweetheart! and no, i don’t believe i wrote a story where the reader attends a conference with jinwoo. however, i can help you find a specific jinwoo story that i have personally written to suit your needs! so i have made a summary of every single jinwoo story i have written under the cut with their links ♡ !

1. { sparkle } - first jinwoo story i have ever written told in jinwoo’s POV where he realizes he’s in love with reader

2. { 3RR0R } - where the system shows jinwoo that his soulmate is not cha hae-in

3. { pillowtalk } - reader speaks to jinwoo about her love for him while he sleeps.

4. { season’s call } - reader is constantly under protection from jinwoo’s shadow soldiers.

5. { hold me like a grudge } - investigator!jinwoo protects the reader while hiding a secret from her.

6. { surround you } - jinwoo is away on a business trip, leaving reader alone as she muses on how much she misses him.

7. { like you do } - reader is a young woman living in the real world who gets the chance to live out her dreams of being with jinwoo in his world.

8. { butterfly kisses } - reader comforts jinwoo during a bad day.

9. { love letter of flowers } - florist! reader and s-rank hunter! jinwoo fall in love 💐

10. { slow dancing in the dark } - reader sees jinwoo dancing with hae-in and feels envious.

11. { boyfriend headcanons } - general fluff headcanons

12. { arise } - reader is resurrected as one of jinwoo’s shadow soldiers due to a tragic event.

13. { rose-colored boy } - jinwoo takes care of a sick and feverish reader.

14. { sands of time } - academy arc; reader can’t stand jinwoo and lowkey hates him… or does she?

15. { light in the darkness } - antares!jinwoo basks in the reader’s softness.

16. { tiptoe } - reader is kept hostage as potential leverage, but it fails when jinwoo brutally attacks her captors to teach them a lesson.

17. { snooze } - reader loves to humble jinwoo by calling him dorky nicknames.

18. { enough is enough } - reader and jinwoo get into an argument.

19. { motherland } - jinwoo comforts reader after her failures.

20. { love me for me } - reader can’t stand being second best to her sister, hae-in.

21. { follow you } - reader becomes anxious at work due to a persistent co worker who can’t leave her alone…

22. { house of gold } - jinwoo fumbles his proposal LMAO

23. { headfirst for halos } - first yandere jinwoo fic.

24. { penpal } - academy arc; jinwoo wishes to get closer to his beloved reader.

25. { proud to be yours } - jinwoo makes a huge announcement during a press conference.

26. { the dark knight } - reader is a capable hunter who can’t stand it when jinwoo purposely prevents her from attending raids.

27. { musings for yandere jinwoo } - more yandere stuff

28. { moonlight } - jinwoo becomes captivated by reader when she calls him a strangely unique nickname.

29. { anomaly } - reader gets isekai’d into the world of solo leveling.

30. { of gifts and curses } - jinwoo muses how his strength and power are for the sake of protecting his beloved…

31. { reader inserts } - reader gets emotionally scarred after reading a painful reader insert.

32. { too sweet } - jinwoo falls in love with a reader who is the embodiment of sunshine.

33. { peaches } - a love story between jinwoo and the reader whom he has always loved.

34. { the only exception } - yandere jinwoo who falls head over heels for reader at first sight, willing to do anything to keep her by his side.

35. { selfish } - jinwoo being a jealous bby 🥰

36. { belong to you } - 100% jinwoo spice / thirst post

37. { touch starved } - jinwoo tries to woo (lmao) the reader and win her heart ♡

38. { cry for me } - another thirst post based on an ask ♡

39. { lover is a day } - comfort fic for jinwoo

40. { heartbreak feels so good } - reader is embarrassed with having a one night stand with jinwoo and wishes to forget. unfortunately for her, jinwoo wants nothing more than to remember and finally claim reader as his.

41. { marked by you } - more thirst posts for jinwoo

42. { the prince and the pauper } - historical romance / fairytale au with prince jinwoo sung and a commoner reader

43. { darling } - a yandere story with a twist. yandere jinwoo and yandere hae-in are deeply in love with the reader and would kill each other just to have you all to themselves…

44. { company } - lmaoo reader keeps friendzoning jinwoo, and he hates it.

45. { autobiography } - reader is an author that wants to write jinwoo's biography; what more can i say? 🥰

46. { perfect } - 18+ only, another thirst post for jinwoo

47. { saturn } - will jinwoo learn to love the reader’s true self hidden beneath a cheerful façade?

48. { slow it down } - boy next door jinwoo! what more can i say 🤭🥰

49. { that green gentleman (things have changed) } - single dad! jinwoo x daycare worker! reader

50. { god is a woman } - 18+ thirst post / drabble

51. { the admirer } - jinwoo loves to annoy the reader to capture her attention

52. { not a want but a need } - 18+ thirst drabble

53. { marry me } - the title says it all, really 🤭

54. { your heart belongs to me } - another 18+ thirst post

55. { the haunted one } - academy arc story where reader can see jinwoo’s shadow soldiers and becomes terrified of him.

56. { me + you } - another cute academy arc story where reader is struggling with math and jinwoo tutors her

57. { of painful auras and cute boys } - university au; reader has a migraine and needs to be saved;;; but by who ;3c

[floofeh-purpi]

Getting Isekai'd?! (Part 4)

Sagau! Genshin Fatui x Gn! Reader (ft. Your bsf)

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm

YEY NEW FLUFFBALL, HIII!!!

☆

Sidenote: CUS ITS BEEN RAINING IN MAINLA HINDI KABA NILALAMIG?! (Song reference lol) 😫

Warnings: Cursing, grammatical/spelling errors, my delulu-ahh brain forgot to write english isnt my first language and im too lazy to edit the other warnings again, me probably switching the povs alot because... yeah, filipino reader maybe speaking tagalog and bisaya, mentions of you having a wound on one of your feet, blood, author's shitty attempts at making you laugh.

【Part 3】

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

You eventually woke up from your nap coma with a sore ass throat and a somehow still fully batteried phone. "Ok, how the fuck is my phone still 100%?! 😰 But atleast I dont have to wait 2 hours to charge my phone lmao." You mused out inside your head cus you'd say it out loud ur throat would even more sore than it already fucking is.

"I should've bought a water bottle with me earlier... ☹" You thought as you putted your phone inside one of the pockets of your pajamas and slowly went downstairs and went to the kitchen.

You sneaked into the kitchen undetected by guests. Because all you wanted to do right now was sleep again rest. Anygays, you gobbled the entire glass of water within one go and putted the glass into the sink. "Nah, y/b/f/n's gonna wash them dishes today lmao." You thought before you plugged your earphones into your phone and listened to your playlist while humming softly to the song before going upstairs.

☆

The harbingers heard someone humming in where they assumed is the kitchen before someone passed by the living room still humming and with a tiny-ahh smile going upstairs. "Oh my~ Who was that beautiful person~?" Asked the Damselette. Its true though, you were the prettiest person y/b/f/n met. "That was Y/n. :)" The harbingers and the Tsaritsa's eyes widened at that name. But are still in denial because they need to confirm just one more thing. Denial, denial, denial IS a river in Eygpt 💀🙌

☆

You eeked mentally when your playlist started playing 'Good Looking by Suki Waterhouse' (Recommend listening to it 10000/10) since you dont have spotify premium and you ran out of skips. 😔

You sat down on the chair infront of your desk, which was messier than dogshit. "Omfg im too lazy to clean it up rn 😭🙌" you thought before you grabbed some paper that you totally didnt rip out from y/b/f/n's notebook like 2 days ago before yall were isekai'd and started drawing basically a city. Aka the city you lived in before this fiasco happened.

*Insert your drawing here cus I cant find anything that was close to my imagination 🥲*

After you finished drawing, you gave your arms a very well needed stretch you desperately needed that shit after sitting down with a posture looking like a fucking shrimp if you looked at what you looked like in the side for 3 fucking hours while your earphones were still playing music, "Finally done, im tired again lmao" you thought before you slept on your chair like when its math class 💔 because you were too fucking sleepy to even get out of your chair its comfier that those damned armchairs you'd sleep on during math class. 💀

But then, your foot accidentally hitted the leg of the table so fucking hard, that it caused the sleepiness in you to go *poof* "PUTANG INA NING LAMESA 👹" (Fuck this table) you yelled loud enough for only yourself to hear you held back your tendency to scream out filipino curses loud enough for the entire damn universe to hear you because... well, the people downstairs... Are downstairs...—

You felt your atoms and dna coursing inside you still shaking at the collision of your foot and the table, whats even worse is that the foot was the one that was wounded, which made the pain all the fucking worse.

"Bandages be damned. I need to fucking change these little shits. Bweshet nih. 😔" You cursed out loud as your throat wasnt as sore as earlier we call it mineral water for a reason /jk, you made your way into your bathroom while not walking normally.

♤

You were just drinking some water in kitchen peacefully, and of course your clumsy ass hand somewhat slipped and you accidentally dropped it onto the floor... and your foot. You winced at shards of bloodied glass digging into the flesh of your foot as sat on the nearest chair while y/b/f/n tended to your wound/s OHMIGASH KILIG NAKO AYIEEEEEEE!!!!!

♤ (End of flashback)

You got some bandages which were fortunately on the sink from the last time you changed your bandages and forgetting to put it back to its original place AGAIN, but you didnt give a shit rn. But as soon as you unwrapped your bandages, instead of the crimson blood you were expecting to see on your wound, the blood was... golden.

"...What the fuck?"

☆

YEY FINISHED PART 4!!! My hands are tired from holding the phone but its ok ❤

Filipino readers where u at? 😭

【Part 5】

Published: June 30 2024. 10:38pm.

[writerblue275]

What to get each Heartsteel member for the holidays

Aphelios: 1. Stuff to decorate his studio with. 2. Moon-themed things. 3. Why do I feel like he’s similar to me and collects SOMETHING. For me it’s owl things (I fucking love owls.) and cool enamel pins! I could see Phel collecting really cool enamel pins or some sort of trinket. 4. To go with #3. A place to put said trinkets (for example a cork board/pin banner to hang pins on). [I should take a photo of my cork board that has all my pins and stuff on it so you can see what I mean!]

Ezreal: 1. Book discussing an ancient civilization he’s been interested in. 2. A book going over works of an artist/artistic period/movement he really likes. (I did that for my dad this year about an artist he likes and he almost started crying he was so excited. It was so fucking cute. I’ve been waiting to give him that book since JULY. 🥹)

Kayn: 1. Accessories for a guitar (like a custom embroidered guitar strap or picks). 2. I feel like he’d primarily play electric, but I definitely think he’d play/have an acoustic guitar. You can find some really cool wood-burned acoustic guitars for (relatively) cheap. (A good instrument is expensive (I know this from playing viola) but compared to electric guitars, acoustics are definitely more affordable.) 3. I have a fun embroidery hoop hanging on my wall and it’s all fancy and shit and it says “DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO” and I think something like that fits Kayn so perfectly. (I need to take a photo and post it for y’all. It’s one of my favorite things lmao.)

K’Sante: 1. A really fancy set of colored pencils and a really nice sketch pad that he can use for sketching out his designs. 2. A new sewing machine/sewing kit. 3. FABRIC. Get this man nice fabric so he can bring his designs to life! Especially if he’s shown you a design he really loves, or that you really love, get fabric for that specific design.

Sett: 1. Brand new fancy sewing kit he’s been talking about. (I absolutely love that he’s canonically a sewing expert. I fucking love it so much). 2. If not a full kit then a really nice seam ripper or specific tool he maybe needs an upgrade on. Could be customized to him. I think he’d love that! 3. Really nice set of pots/pans/kitchen utensils. (I’m thinking like the hex clad pans I keep hearing about.)

Sett Extra: You better get something for his mama!!! As someone who has a mother who is a knitting machine, I know exactly what to get. 1. Some really really lovely and fancy yarn. 2. Knitting pattern books that she doesn’t have. 3. A yarn bowl (it’s literally a bowl that the yarn sits in, and there’s a little hole or design that allows the end to come out so you don’t have to keep unwinding the yarn or anything. And it’s easy to keep your space neat while knitting. My mother LOVES HERS. My dad accidentally broke her first one and she was devastated! [A new/nicer one was her Christmas present from my dad last year.])

Yone: 1. Some god damn peace and quiet and sleep. This man needs a break lmao. 2. But actually, stuff to decorate his studio with (for example a funny little do not disturb sign that he can put on the door, some posters or something. 3. Maybe some small framed photos of the two of you that he can put on his desk. You’re his muse after all (and you help him not go insane during late nights.)

EXTRA-

Alune: She deserves some gifts toooooooo!! 1. This woman deserves a damn spa day. Do I even have to explain myself? Like she deserves some serious pampering. 2. Another one who I could see collecting something fun. Probably moon related lol.