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feirceangel · 8 months ago

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Asks are open you say? Well how about a dynamic flip? Feyd is the proud warrior but is unexpectedly bartered away in a deal his brother makes to humiliate him. Surprised and furious he fully intends to conquer his new "brides" family and kingdom only for them to recognize his strength and be met with the satisfying challenge of warrior/ farming planet.

So, I kinda went in a different direction with this, but I hope you still enjoy it, Anon!!

Imagine | A Match (Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen)

Imagine Feyd is given in marriage to a wealthy House in order to gain an alliance. His new bride is not what he expected.

Word Count: 1,737

Warnings: arranged marriage, attempted choking/stabbing, non-sexual nudity (reader), Powerful! Reader.

"What?" Feyd's voice is barely concealing his rage as he stares down his uncle and smug brother.

"It was necessary, my darling," the Baron's voice is rough, his tone placating. "We need this alliance more than you know."

Feyd finds his teeth clenching, hands forming fists at his sides. "Why not Rabban?"

"You know why," the Baron glares. "They would not accept Rabban as a suitable match. You are to go and wed their daughter. And in return they give us whatever we ask."

Feyd growls, "I outta slit your throat, uncle."

The Baron laughs, "This is for your benefit as much as it is mine, dear nephew. Now go."

Feyd storms out of the room, a hurricane of rage sweeping through the halls. He has never felt an anger this severe in quite some time. He should have known something like this would happen eventually. And, knowing his uncle, there is another scheme at play.

Always plans within plans within plans.

It's not the worst situation, he muses later when he has calmed and steadied his mind.

House Wallach would be a formidable ally, an asset that shouldn't be taken lightly. With control over three planets and being the largest horticultural power in the Landsraad, they are powerful indeed.

The leaders of House Wallach has birthed only a daughter, which leaves them without a male heir. All manner of eligible men have tried their hand at a marriage to their daughter. None has been successful.

Until now, apparently.

A feral grin spreads across Feyd's face as he thinks of the possibilities.

He will have no issue wedding the daughter and taking control of House Wallach when the time is right.

And, perhaps if he plays his cards right, take control of House Harkonnen as well.

He cares not who he has to marry, even if he'll be mad about it for awhile. After all, he can dispose of her eventually.

~~~

Feyd arrives with much fanfare, as befitting the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

Bright sunshine surrounds those gathered to greet him, people who are swamped in bright greens, yellows, and browns. All around the envoy are orchards of all kinds of fruit trees. A vibrant sea of green.

So much more colour than Feyd is used to.

His expression remains neutral as he greats the Lord and Lady of the House. They appear cautious of him, perhaps overly so. It seems they know House Harkonnen’s reputation.

"It is an honour to be here," he says, bowing slightly. The lie slides easily off his tongue.

"We are pleased to have you in our home, na-Baron." The Lord says, returning the bow. "Our daughter is so pleased that you accepted the match."

Feyd's lips quirk up. Surely he's lying, no noble lady would hold any desire for a creature like him.

"As I said, it's an honour."

His gaze sweeps around, searching for his wife-to-be. All he finds is diplomats and soldiers.

"Where is Lady Wallach?" He asks, unimpressed at her absence.

"Forgive us, your arrival coincided with an event she could not miss," the Lord replies. "She is attending a Munus Ceremony."

This catches Feyd's attention, "A fight?"

"Yes, if you come this way, we may still witness part of it."

Feyd follows Lord Wallach, silently fuming.

His betrothed is watching other men fight to the death instead of welcoming him? His outrage is unparalleled, yet he remains collected.

They lead him up to the viewing tower of an outdoor coliseum, with vines growing on every available surface.

The viewing box is empty.

"There my lord."

Feyd's attention is brought down to a figure in the ring who brandishes a dagger with a graceful air.

"Our daughter,” Lord Wallach smiles, the action appearing forced.

He hadn't expected this.

Feyd was picturing a regal noble lady, demure and pitiful. He had not once pictured this creature before him, fluid in her movements as she battles her opponent.

She blocks attacks with ease and avoids ones that would cause serious damage all while attacking just as fiercely. Her opponent is skilled, to be sure, but is no match for the ruthlessness of her attacks.

He falls to the ground, unmoving. Feyd’s bride-to-be lifts her arms in victory, grinning as blood drips down her blade.

“We honour!” She shouts, and the crowd responds with deafening cheers.

“We know she is not exactly… How can I put it? Traditional, let’s say.” Her mother frets, “But she will be a good wife, na-Baron.”

He barely hears her, eyes transfixed on the beauty in the arena as she battles another opponent. Yes, this is an interesting turn of events indeed.

“Of course she will,” Feyd replies. “I must meet her.”

He watches as she disappears into the building, no doubt going to change and bathe after her match.

“Certainly. She’ll be out to give you a tour in no time. Meanwhile, a guard can show you to your room.”

Displeased, Feyd nods and obediently follows the man to his room. As soon as he’s alone, Feyd opens the door and stalks out with determination.

He cannot wait.

There is surprisingly little security surrounding your change room, Feyd notes as he quietly opens the door.

Your piercing gaze meets him immediately. Instead of being frightened, like he had anticipated, you smile warmly.

“Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha, I was not expecting you here. I’m afraid you have caught me unprepared to greet you properly,” you say calmly as you continue to unbutton your fighting tunic.

He doesn’t know what to make of your reaction. You’re not put off by his presence at all.

“I couldn’t wait,” he replies honestly.

You hum, “Excited to see me, na-Baron?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The sound of your laughter is unexpected, “Of course not. I doubt I was what you were anticipating.”

His gaze lingers as you remove your clothes and retrieve a washcloth and bucket.

“Don’t you have servants?” He finds himself asking, motioning to the washcloth.

“I prefer to do it myself.”

He frowns, “You don’t seem very noble.”

“I assure you, Wallach blood flows deep in my veins,” your voice has taken an edge.

It seems he’s struck a nerve.

“I meant no insult, my lady,” his grin says otherwise, his voice rough and teasing. “It just appears you have odd taste. Fighting and doing the work servants should be doing.”

You return his even gaze, “I am not some snivelling noble who cannot take care of herself. Feyd, it seems you do not remember me.”

Your last statement has him pausing.

“What did you say?”

Lathering suds onto your bloodied skin, you barely spare him a glance.

“I said you don’t remember me. We met once, you know.”

He does not remember such a thing.

“Don’t toy with me,” he snarls. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you roll your eyes. “Feydie, I can’t say I’m not hurt you don’t recall.”

Your bastardization of his name brings a memory to the front of his mind.

A young girl bearing the Wallach crest getting angry with him over something and punching him clear across the face. He naturally returned the blow and they broke out into a fight right then and there.

He’s shocked he forgot it.

You watch as recognition filters through his eyes. Smiling, you rinse the suds off your body.

“Now you remember. To be honest, I don’t know why I was so angry with you.”

“You’ve always been a fighter,” he acknowledges with an inclination of his head.

“And I knew you could not be satisfied with a weak wife.”

He’s coming to realize this match may not have been a scheme of just his uncle.

“You wanted this match,” he phrases it as a statement as if he already knows the answer.

You smirk, “Does it not please you?”

“What makes you think I would want you as a wife?” He sneers, crossing his arms.

“I know you planned on controlling me, or killing me - whichever suited your needs best. You want power, Feyd. I can give you that and so much more. Is it too much to ask for you in return?”

He cannot find words, mulling over your proposal as his eyes study your every move.

You’ve certainly grown from that little girl who could barely throw a proper punch yet had the rage to carry through a fight.

Feyd observes as you dry yourself off. He leans over before you can, and grabs your fresh shirt from the table.

“Allow me, my lady.”

Surprised, you nod and present your back to him. A foolish mistake, to turn your back on a potential threat. He contemplates disposing of you right now, but finds himself frowning at the idea.

You’re so much more interesting than he first imagined.

Despite himself, he wants to know you better, to find out when you had your first gladiatorial fight or when you realized you could be so much more than wedding fodder for your parents to make a match with.

“So many suitors have tried to win your hand,” Feyd rasps as he guides your arms through the sleeves of your shirt. “Yet you denied them all.”

“None were you, my lord.”

“Why chose me?” He leans into you, pressing his chest to your back as he slowly starts buttoning your shirt.

You lean back into him, “You are a fighter, a warrior. You can wield blades and talk politics. And I know you can treat me right.”

“Why would I treat you any different than a common whore?” He suddenly presses his arm against your throat, cutting off your oxygen.

He looks at your expression, surprised to find a wide grin. A flash of pain goes through his side. Your eyes flicker downwards and Feyd looks down to find the tip of a blade piercing his skin.

He releases his hold.

“You will treat me differently, Feyd. And do you know why?”

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his bleeding wound.

“Because I will make you.”

Feyd cannot stop the smile forming on his plush lips as you bring your hand to his cheek.

He doesn’t say anything as you continue place a kiss to his lips before shoving him away.

“We must ready ourselves for the dinner tonight, there is much to discuss about the wedding.”

“Of course, my lady.”

[Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!]

#female reader #reader insert #feyd oneshot #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd imagine #dune #dune part two #dune x reader #fanfic

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nixiefics · 6 months ago

Text

Posses

Pairing: Robb Stark X Silent!Sister Reader

Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex

Robb Stark winces as you carefully manipulate his leg, guiding his hip back into place with practiced hands. The sharp intake of breath that escapes him when the bone finally clicks into its rightful position tells you just how much pain he’s been enduring. You’ve been a Silent Sister in training for only a short time, but already you’ve seen more suffering than you ever imagined possible. Yet, this man, the Young Wolf, is different. His pain seems to ripple through you as if it were your own.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice strained but genuine. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you forget the vow of silence you took upon entering your order. You nod in acknowledgment, your fingers still lingering on his hip, feeling the heat of his body through the thin linen of his undergarment.

Days pass, and you tend to Robb’s injuries with unwavering diligence. His recovery is slow, but each day he grows stronger. You watch as he interacts with his men, see the respect and loyalty they have for him. He’s not just their King; he’s their friend, their brother. It’s a bond forged in the fires of battle and tempered by the fairness and justice he shows them.

Grey Wind, his direwolf, is never far from his side. The massive wolf seems to sense your importance to Robb, often watching you with intelligent, piercing eyes. When you approach, Grey Wind’s posture is relaxed, but the unspoken warning is clear: you are under his protection as well.

But it’s not just his men and his direwolf who are drawn to him. You feel an undeniable pull towards Robb Stark. His kindness, his honour, his unwavering dedication to his family and his cause – all of it captivates you. You’ve seen men broken by war, their spirits shattered as surely as their bodies, but Robb remains whole. More than whole, he seems to grow stronger with each passing day, his determination like a beacon in the dark.

One evening, as you’re tending to another soldier’s wounds, you feel his eyes on you. Robb watches from across the camp, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. Jealousy? The thought lingers as you stitch up the gash on the soldier’s arm, your hands steady despite the intensity of Robb’s gaze. Grey Wind is by his side, growling softly, mirroring Robb’s protective feelings.

Later, as you change the dressing on Robb’s hip, he grabs your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “You spend too much time with the others,” he says, his voice low and edged with frustration. “I need you with me.”

You look up, startled by the intensity in his eyes. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens. “I don’t want you tending to them,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you by my side. Always.”

You nod, your heart pounding. His possessiveness is startling, but also oddly reassuring. It means he cares, that he values you more than you realized. From that moment on, you are always at his side, tending to his needs, ensuring his recovery. Grey Wind often lies nearby, his presence a constant reminder of Robb’s vigilance even when he cannot be with you.

The other men notice, their eyes following you with curiosity and a hint of envy. Robb’s attention and possessiveness are clear to all, and it changes the dynamic in the camp. No longer just a healer, you are now the woman who has captured the heart of the Young Wolf.

One day, you’re tending to a minor injury on a young soldier when Robb storms into the tent. His face is a mask of barely controlled anger. “Leave us,” he commands the soldier, who scrambles to his feet and exits hastily.

Robb strides over to you, his eyes blazing. “I told you, I don’t want you with them,” he growls, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. “You’re mine.”

You can feel the heat of his breath on your face, the intensity of his emotions crashing over you like a wave. His jealousy is raw, visceral, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen him like this, so consumed by his need for you. Grey Wind stands at his side, his eyes fixed on you, a silent enforcer of Robb’s wishes.

“I can’t stand seeing you with them,” he admits, his voice a harsh whisper. “It tears me apart. You’re the only one who understands me, who makes me feel whole. I need you, only you.”

You reach up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. You nod, your silent promise to be by his side always. His grip on you softens, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. Grey Wind nudges your leg gently, as if to seal the promise.

In the weeks that follow, Robb’s possessiveness only grows. He keeps you close, his eyes always on you, ensuring that no one else can claim your attention. It’s a fierce, consuming need that drives him, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you. Grey Wind is never far, his protective presence a constant reminder of the bond you share with Robb.

One night, as you sit by the fire, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “No one else’s. Remember that.”

You nod, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and something darker, more primal. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who would fight the world to keep you by his side. And as you look into his eyes, you know that you would do the same for him.

One afternoon, you are out gathering herbs when a group of soldiers approaches you. They’re friendly, asking for your help with minor ailments. Before you can respond, Grey Wind appears from the trees, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his throat. The soldiers step back, fear evident in their eyes.

You pat his head gently in warning, but the direwolf’s eyes remain fixed on the men until they retreat. When you return to camp, Robb is waiting, his eyes dark with concern and jealousy.

“Were they bothering you?” he asks, his voice tight.

You shake your head, but Robb pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “I don’t want you going out alone anymore,” he says. “Grey Wind will accompany you, or I will.”

You nod, understanding the depth of his worry. His possessiveness is more than just jealousy; it’s a need to protect you, to keep you safe in a world that is anything but. You feel his love in every fierce look, every protective gesture, every time Grey Wind’s eyes follow you like a shadow.

As Robb’s recovery progresses, your bond deepens. He confides in you, shares his fears, his hopes, his dreams. You listen, your silence a balm to his troubled soul. And in those quiet moments, you realize that you’ve found something rare and precious in the midst of war.

Robb’s men see the change in their lord, the lightness in his step, the hope in his eyes. They see the way he looks at you, the way Grey Wind shadows your every move, and they understand. The Young Wolf has found his heart, and it beats for you.

One night, as you sit by the fire, Robb’s arms around you and Grey Wind at your feet, he whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours. Always.”

You smile, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you will face it together. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who captured your heart with his honour, his kindness, and his unwavering love. And in his eyes, you see the same love reflected back at you, a bond that no war, no enemy, can ever break.

"You should rest, My King," you say softly. "Let us retire for the evening."

Your words leave him stunned for a moment. You have taken a vow of silence, yet here you are, speaking to him. The surprise in his eyes quickly melts into something deeper, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Robb nods, allowing you to help him up, your hands steadying him as he leans on you for support. Grey Wind shadows your every step, his amber eyes watching protectively.

As you guide Robb towards his tent, the camp around you starts to quiet down. The fires burn low, casting flickering shadows that dance in the night. You can feel the weight of Robb’s gaze on you, the unspoken questions simmering just beneath the surface.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You help Robb ease down onto his furs, his eyes never leaving yours. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Why now?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern. “Why break your vow of silence?”

You take a deep breath, kneeling beside him. “Because I need you to understand,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “My silence was a shield, a way to distance myself from the pain and suffering I witnessed. But with you, it’s different. I can’t remain silent any longer. Not when my heart speaks so loudly.”

Robb’s eyes soften, his hand squeezing yours gently. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying that I want to leave the Silent Sisters,” you declare, your resolve hardening. “But I will only do so if you share my commitment, if you promise that our bond is as strong as I believe it to be.”

Robb’s eyes widen, his surprise evident. He pulls you closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You would give up your vows for me?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You nod, your heart pounding. “Yes. But only if you promise to be with me, to share this life with me. I cannot leave my order for uncertainty. I need your commitment, Robb.”

Robb’s expression transforms into one of determination. “I promise,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “You have my word. I will stand by you, always. You are not just my healer, but my heart. I need you by my side.”

A sense of relief washes over you, and you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Grey Wind huffs and trots to settle just outside the entrance to the tent, a silent sentinel watching over you both. For the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace and belonging.

Robb cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ve given me more than just my health,” he whispers. “You’ve given me hope, a future I didn’t dare dream of. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to make you happy.”

Tears of relief and joy well in your eyes as you nod. “And I promise to stand by you, to support you in every way I can,” you vow, your voice filled with emotion.

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and certainty. You feel the heat of his breath, the nearness of his lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you fades away until there is only Robb—his eyes, his touch, his unwavering gaze that holds you captive.

Slowly, he tilts his head, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch. The sensation is electric, a spark that ignites something deep within you. His hands cup your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks with a tenderness that belies the intensity of his emotions.

Then, without warning, the kiss deepens. His lips press against yours with a fervour that takes your breath away. It’s as if he’s pouring all his love, all his passion, into this single moment, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you pull him closer.

The kiss is searing, consuming. It feels like the world is burning around you, but all you can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the way his body presses against yours with a desperate need. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

You're vaguely aware of his fingers at the laces of your dress, tugging impatiently at them. Soon, it seems, he loses all patience and you gasp as he violently rips at the seams of your dress, pushing it over your shoulders and hips with a growl. "On the bed."

You crawl to the middle of the bed of furs, your heart pounding with anticipation as Robb stands before you with a hungry gaze. His possessive nature has always been clear, but now it's different - now, it's thrilling and exciting.

He sheds his own layers first, causing you swallow thickly as his chest is exposed; thick thighs built for fighting but that make you think they might be good for other pleasures as well. And then he is completely bare and you feel your core clench at the sight of his cock. Thicker than it was long, with veins running all along it; the thought of running your tongue over those veins makes your mouth water.

"Gods, you're glorious." you whisper, resisting the urge to chew at your nails.

Robb's calloused hands trace the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is confident and passionate, and you can't help but feel desired under his gaze. His lips find yours, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervour that leaves you breathless.

As he breaks the kiss, his mouth moves to your neck, nibbling and licking the sensitive skin. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues his assault on your senses. His hands slip under your shift, caressing your breasts with calloused hands. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch, wanting more.

Robb takes the hint, his fingers deftly removing your shift and freeing your body to his gaze. His mouth finds your nipples, and he sucks and nips at them, his stubble adding an extra layer of sensation. You gasp, your head falling back as he worships your body.

His hands trail down your body, fingers find your clit, and he begins to rub slow circles, making you moan and writhe beneath him. His other hand joins the first as well, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You are more than ready for him.

His head dips between your legs, and his tongue finds your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers still inside you, curled to hit that perfect spot. You moan louder, your hips bucking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you're about to cum, he stops. You look at him, confused, but he just smirks at you. Robb pulls himself to his knees, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit, making you moan loudly again. He teases you like this for a moment before slowly sliding inside you.

He fills you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

Robb's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You can feel yourself getting close again, and you urge him on. "Harder, Robb, harder," you gasp. He complies, his cock slamming into you, making the bed shake.

You feel yourself on the brink, and then you're cumming, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. Robb keeps thrusting, drawing out your pleasure until he finally follows you over the edge, filling you up with his cum.

He collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You wrap your arms around him, feeling closer to him than ever before. Robb's possessiveness has always been a part of him, but now, it's something else - it's a sign of his love and devotion to you.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together. And you can't wait to see where it takes you.

#game of thrones #Robb stark x reader #Robb stark smut #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones smut #got x reader smut #Robb stark x reader smut #fanfic #smut #smut x reader

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afewfantasies · 2 months ago

Text

"WARRIOR ⛊" - Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.4K

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader

ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd needs an Army, your planet has the best in the galaxy. Uncertain if he should deem your planet friend or foe he lands to treat with your father. It's not in his plans to meet a secret bastard daughter that quickly becomes the object of his fascination and desire. The reader is a warrior in this.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, 18+, intercourse and oral. Mild knife and blood aspects.

FAMILY ...

You watch sweat bead from your fathers forehead as you refill the cups for hour four of this council meeting. Your ears are astute while your eyes and head remain low. On a few occasions you look to your brother who you find is positively unimpressed with the strategy being put forth.

“To the Harkonnen we are a threat that is better eradicated, we can offer them nothing they wouldn't take on their own. An alliance is futile, they would only place us on the front lines to be killed en masse first when we are best saved for after the bombings” your brother speaks finally. Their future King.

“Then what would you have us do, wage all out war? Have you heard nothing of Feyd-Rautha” your father responds, sending a shiver down your spine. The screeching of a chair being pushed out sounds.

“Do as you wish and I will stand by it father” your brother snaps tossing his stone in the bowl as is custom. He walks off with his flowing robes leaving the room silent. You remain as his second pair of ears, only no progress is made before the meeting comes to an end. Relieved of your duties as a cupbearer you head into your chambers to be dressed for combat training. Looking up you see ugly ships in the shy looking to land. The alarms sound signalling for the people to adhere to curfew protocols as the Harkonnen land. You pause from what you had planned and send a communication to the armed forces to be ready for anything. You station your best fighters to disperse within the city, and those in training to man the evacuation routes and tunnels. Heading to the control room you find your brother looking at live footage of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen the new Baron and infinitely more treacherous than the first.

“Find me a weakness that saves our people” he says with his head bowed. You nod honoured to be trusted with the fate of the people. Swallowing you turn heading back to the palace to perform your duties.

LEGITIMACY …

It’s the next morning when you finally find Feyd-Rautha court is a shuddering mess of whispers and the palace has been purged of all women. The fear of being sullied by a Harkonnen is too much for the nobles to bear.

“They have been in council since dawn” the guard at the door says as you go to enter it gives you pause. “Women have been asked to leave. The foreign concubines have been brought in” he continues.

“Thank you” you nod understanding the need for fear but not welcoming it. Feyd-Rautha is Geidi Primes only heir and he is in your home world. “Do not cower, it is unbecoming of a warrior” you advise. Heading to the great hall you move stealthy among the men filtering all of their whispers. When they fall flat you look up to see him. Feyd-Rautha. The halls clear and you head outside knowing the route he’ll likely take to his quest quarters. You sit by the pools humming as you watch the floating lily pads, when a terrifying reflection looks at you through the water.

”I wish I was more frightened” you comment looking over at the Harkonnen legend. Feyd-Rautha, a man so feared few uttered his name aloud without shuddering. The stories and recollections that did follow were equally as harrowing, only right now all that stands before you is a man.

“Why should you be terrified?” Feyd asks, turning to the side like a predator ready to play with his food. You tap on a shield and the smile that escapes him is full and dimpled.

“I’ve heard enough stories to exercise caution.” You explain and he nods.

“Such as?”

“If you’re displeased you take the lives of those who’ve displeased you. If you are offended depending on the level, death can be very painful. And people whisper that you revel in it, they throw around big words” you speak candidly.

“Such as?” he asks intrigued.

“Tyrant, psychopath, madman, warlord” you disclose.

“I haven’t heard anything about you” he comments and if you were anyone else perhaps it would sting a little. Smiling, you nod appreciating the honesty in his remark.

“A great man has many sons, illegitimate daughters are only of use should the sons fail. I have five brothers - they’ve afforded me the freedom of invisibility.” you explain.

“Invisibility” Feyd repeats and you look him over again deciding to play with fire. You disengage the shield. “How does an invisible woman find a husband?” he probes.

“Husband?” You ask amused. “If you ever were to hear anything about me it would be that absolutely nobody wants to marry me. I’m quite undesirable” you confess.

“What would they say?” He raises his browless brow bone.

“Who? Women or men?” you ask to be sure.

“Women?” he asks, showing his famed black smile.

“They’d say my mother is a whore who knows no shame and that shame is all I bring my father.” you smile.

“The men?”

“Men who would gossip about me are not worth listening to or considering” you shrug.

“Fair enough” Feyd nods as you take in his features without fear. He doesn’t recall the last time someone was brave enough to lay eyes on him. The palace doors open out, walk your brothers, advisors and father. Feyd watches as you put your head down heading in to line the table with glasses as pleasantries are exchanged. The break is short and has moved the council outdoors. It means there is a potential for hostility. Feyd catches you signing to one of your brothers as you pour wine into the empty glasses. Once everything is situated you refill the gourd of wine placing it on the table as is custom for the men to pour. Feyd catches one of your advisors eyes lingering on your breasts. When your task is complete you bow to your father who nods dismissively, you take your leave.

LEGACY …

It was seldom that men didn’t cower in his presence, that they seemed more preoccupied with the issues at hand than Feyd’s own lore. Your family had a reputation for being straightforward and your brother for being valiant. He expected arrogance and self importance but all he encountered was a soldier. There was no posturing or small talk. Your eldest brother was straight to the point. Unlike Rabban, Feyd could see genuine respect among the siblings and care. There were no power plays or attempts to usurp inheritances; everyone seemed content in their place. His usual tactics to sow chaos wouldn’t work. Passing the training grounds Feyd stops. He watches a formidable combattant training young recruits in hand to hand combat.

“Your soldiers are some of the best” Feyd remarks honestly.

“As are yours” your eldest brother nods.

“We’re known for brutality, you for skill” Feyd attempts flattery.

“Dead men have no preference” your brother says matter of fact. The sight of the eldest son has the recruits fall into salute. Feyd nods impressed.

“At ease” he says when he realises your brother has given him the respect of calling the force.

“Pardon me” you call removing your helmet. Feyds surprise is evident at your appearance and at your fighting ability; he'd never seen a woman train men. He’d never seen a woman fight so well.

“Y/N” your brother nods.

“Brother, I was wondering … what of the sparring custom?” you ask.

“No” your brother says plainly, shocking you. Feyd looks between you as you swallow bowing and falling into line.

“What sparring?” Feyd asks.

“As a means of education a member of our force would spar with one of yours to a position of yielding. Afterwards the fight would be broken down and analysed for learning and training purposes”

“So why is it not happening?” Feyd asks.

“As head of your force one of ours would have to fight you. It’s treason” your brother says.

“Are you not the head of your force?” Feyd asks your eldest brother.

“No, it’s a great risk for an heir to be” your brother explains looking between the two of them you nod.

“Sorry for the interruption, good day” you nod, turning.

“Who is the head of your force?” Feyd asks suspiciously.

“Right there” your brother points to you as you retake your arms.

“A woman?” Feyd asks.

Your brother nods. “She’s earned it”

“Why does no one speak of her?” Feyd inquired.

“Many think it unwise? If word were to travel other disgruntled young women may take up arms against their intended to avoid marriage.” he explains.

A puzzled Feyd looks up. “What?”

“She started receiving suitors at thirteen. She would choose soldiers to fight on her behalf if the gentlemen couldn’t win they couldn’t have her hand. Of course it garnered great sport and then when she was eighteen she desired to fight for herself. That slowed things down a touch. Most men don’t want to bloody their bride. Those who attempted mercy were driven to the brink of social conduct by my sisters off hand provocations. When the previous commander passed she auditioned and won the position” your brother explains one of the planet's best kept secrets.

“Curious” Feyd comments. “If it’s custom” Feyd says watching you with his snake eyes.

“She would never yield,” your brother warns, knowing it’s not in your capability.

“Then to first blood” Feyd proposes. Your brother tells you to stand down in your language causing Feyds eyes to perk up. You take a step back before bowing to the men.

“It is impossible.” Your brother says with weariness and you head back to your men.

“I promise not to disfigure or maim your sister” Feyd promises.

“I’m not worried for my sister, with much respect” he says, making Feyds mouth water.

CUSTOMS …

You brush out your hair before braiding it for the night when a shadowy figure emerges in the doorway. All of your staff wear white while this figure is clad in all black. Holding your brush you turn to face him as he emerges from the shadows. You see Feyd-Rautha. His black smile contrasts against this alabaster skin. A Harkonnen legend in the flesh and in your chambers. You go to stand but he holds his hand out to stop you. He looks around at your chambers noting the contrast from Primes sterility. He closes the distance between you in moments.

“You were proposed as a concubine to Paul according to my mentat but you refused” Feyd says having done his research while deciding what was to be done about your planet and people.

“I don’t like excessive heat” you explain and he smiles. “Would you like me to train a force of your men?” You ask to pick his brain.

He gives you a black smile, “I would like to spar with you.”

“I don’t yield” you warn, standing slowly in your night silks.

“To first blood?” Feyd proposes.

“I’d like to keep my teeth and nose” you set your boundaries.

“You will,” he nods.

“Shall I fetch my armour?” you ask the Harkonnen salivating over your figure.

“No, hand to hand” he says.

“What should I get in return?” you ask stepping into the open area of your chamber.

“Whatever you like” he offers, at the liberty to provide it.

“An infinite amount of time to decide” you smile knowing what you want already.

“Deal” Feyd rasps with a smile too sinister to be good.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“Have you ever been with a man?” He asks his mind on sex.

“I’m a soldier, of course I have been” you respond and he smiles. “I’ve sullied myself” you speak in society’s terms.

“If I win-” Feyd begins.

“You won’t” you smile swinging first. He dodges with a wide smile. Your heart races knowing it’ll be a good fight. His style is brutal and aggressive. But you’ve learned the Harkonnen style first. All hits are superficial. Until Feyd lands a blow that knocks the wind out of you. Anger surges and you cut him with his holster. Black blood drips as you fight for breath. Feyd steps shocked at his loss as he watches his arm drip. You fight for breath still hoping he’s true to his word. You regain your breath as he snaps out of his stupor. Taking a cloth from your vanity, you tie it around the gash to stop the blood flow. His dark eyes focus on all of your features, unable to decide whether to take your life or indulge in passions of the flesh. He notes your hands are remarkably soft for a woman capable of such brutality.

“Your back will ache in a few hours” he rasps, speaking first. “We have our remedies should you want to save yourself the discomfort” he says speaking of the blow he’d landed.

“No thank you” you whisper.

“You don’t trust me” Feyd’s instincts are spot on.

“When you’re a woman people enjoy hurting to keep yourself from being a victim, you learn to enjoy the pain” you explain. Your words stroke all the right flames within him. Looking down he’d been right about you. There was no fear. Feyd takes a fistful of your nightgown, lifting it slowly in anticipation. When he’s met without resistance he removes it from your body. He sees scars scattered across your skin in varying depths caused by varying blades. The heat of anger and protectiveness surges.

“Why haven’t they been treated?” he asks, placing his hand against one of the scars that has healed quite bad.

“It’s our way to honour the fallen. Great warriors are remembered by their scars. My skin says I’ve met many.” you explain wearing your wounds with honour.

“Or that you took a long time to learn your skill” Feyd chides with eyes full of mischief.

“Once blood is drawn in combat by a cut it's our custom that you submit to the person who bested you, or become a sword or a slave if they will have you” you explain as Feyd eyes your breasts.

“What is my fate?” Feyd muses.

“How fares the Harkonnen?” You ask finding the zip to remove his armour. He’d never been undressed before by a woman whom was already naked or a woman that had cut him. Holding his arms out he watches as you remove it tossing the pieces onto the floor. He could feel the blood rushing to him manhood full of passion for you. Looking up at him as you remove his armoured gloves.

“I’d like a pair from your personal collection.” You tell him honestly. He’d never engaged in combat prior to sex either.

“I’ll see to it,” he says. “Or you could come to Prime and make your own selections” he offers with ulterior motives.

“And become your captive?” you smile finished with the task. A strong chest and an even stronger core is bare for you to see. Circling him you find a chiselled back. There’s no bulk, you note his power comes from within instead of the armour's added mass.

“I don’t think you can be made to do anything, much less stay where you don’t want to be.” He whispers as you sink into a squat.

“I only win all the time because I know when not to play” you smile using his belt to bring him to you. You unfasten the clasp as Feyd stands completely bewitched. You never break eye contact with Feyd; his concentration is like no other. Freeing his manhood, it springs free. His size is impressive. You don’t realise you’re smiling until he makes a guttural sound in awe of your reaction. Taking his sceptre into your hand gently you feel the weight of him in your forearm. It’s an act of submission in itself for him to be weaponless as you hold his prized possession, his legacy and virility. Your mouth waters at the round tip.

“Permission granted” he says after having waited too long.

“Be gentle with me, I will appear in court tomorrow” you tell him. He nods ever so slightly but you place no trust in his promise. Taking him into your mouth you revel in the ability to be the undoing of dangerous men. Your tongue traces his length before your jaw slacks to take him in. Your cheeks tighten and his head falls back from the suction. His grip is firm on the back of your head as it bobs from the strokes. His body reacts quickly as does yours from his arousal. Your hands slip along his slick manhood. Your strokes are tighter.

You use your hands and mouth unable to watch him as you try to send him over the edge. You find yourself moaning with him as he whispers praise and sweet nothings. Your flesh rises, tiny hairs standing at attention. White hot arousal envelopes you as your eyes find his again as you suckle him. His eyes are weary. His hips tick gently guiding his manhood back into your mouth slightly. Taking control of the pace Feyd’s hips thrust slow and deliberate challenging how much of his length you can manage.

“Good girl” he rasps going deeper with every thrust before giving you enough reprieve to breathe. His eyes are wild with arousal. You didn’t think him capable of pleasure without brutality. You’re even more impressed when he pulls you back from him abruptly holding you by your hair as he curses. It takes a moment to realize he’s trying to ward off a climax. You release his fist and dim the lights before padding over to your bed where he may come find you.

Once partially recovered Feyd is a moth to a flame. The path to your bed is lit with sconces. His acute hearing listens for the pads of your feet hitting against the marble. The darkness adds to the experience. Only when he enters your bedroom he hears the sound of water and turns to find a waterfall along the wall in front of the large bed. He takes steps down to the sunken area. The bed sits high in the middle lifted on a platform instead of taking the step up. He has an idea.

“Come here” he calls, holding out a pale hand. The bed is at his perfect waist level. “Open your legs” he instructs and one after the other you follow suit spreading them open for him. His eyes say it all as he comes in for a kiss. You’re taken aback when he slips one finger in. The kiss is broken and Feyd growls bringing your head back to his as he nips your bottom lip kissing your harder and adding another finger as he begins to stroke them skillfully. He’s unlike most warriors that are poor lovers. There’s no theatrics. When your eyes close you are in a bid for control as he takes you out of the present into planes of pleasure you’ve never frequented. There’s a seamless transition as he enters you going deep. He sheathes himself inside of you leaving you to gasp. His body is strong and rigid.

“Look at me” he demands drawing you back. Your eyes open and he appears first as a shadow, and then as Feyd-Rautha. There’s a brutality to his love making and an attention to detail that leaves you in delirium. A skilled combatant that knows how to use every inch of his body. The slapping contact of skin is felt and heard as his hands hold firm all over you. You can feel him tense and in a bid for control you slap him breaking the kiss as he fucks you into the bed. Shocked he pulls back robbing you of the contact. But Feyd-Rautha isn’t going to give you anything. Using his surprise to you out manoeuvre him so he’s lying beneath you.

“Relax” you whisper, mounting him and beginning to ride. He’s the best you’ve ever had. When the praise turns to curses you know he’s close. Sitting up Feyd fights for control, kissing you as you clench around him. The orgasm that rips through the both of you is a shared effort. Feverish breaths follow as your bodies fight to stabilise. Never breaking the intimate contact Feyd lifts you onto your sides so you’re both laying on the bed. Even after such a powerful orgasm he’s still hard. It feels incredible. Laying beside him you find beauty in his ferocity and Feyd initiates a kiss that is surprisingly soft and intimate. He roots himself deeper enjoying the closeness. You wonder if it’s a Harkonnen thing or if it’s just Feyd and smile. Your hands trace the now blackened cloth around his arm.

“What is it you want?” he rasps fully lucid.

“An honest treaty and not annihilation, we are not your enemy” you breathe honestly. His eyes darken in frustration before his jas sets in anger. He pulls out of you and the loss of contact causes you to gasp. He sits at the edge of the bed in contemplation.

“I will keep my word” he hisses feeling outmanoeuvred

“Come back to bed.” you respond. Feyd casts a hateful look over his shoulder making you smile. Your lack of fear amuses him. He returns back to bed giving you round two and whe it's over sleep comes too soon.

TREATIES…

Your father glares at you in fury. Undoubtedly his attendants have told him about your tryst last night. It’ll be every bit of a scandal by the end of the week if it makes it out of the palace. Suitors have come far and wide just for you to voluntarily take a Harkonnen to bed. As punishment you’re forbidden from attending the procession. There is no goodbye as you watch the fortified shielded ships take flight. Your father is an old man that’s comfortable in his ways and unaware of the complexity of the new world around him. It’s how your mother wormed her way into his heart. It’s how you came to be. You hear doors open and your eldest brother emerges behind you with none of your father’s judgement or contempt.

“He left you these,” your brother says, placing the gloves on the counter in front of you. You look down at them before looking at your brother. “We’re allies now” he declares. “The Harkonnen have stopped looking at us like food.” he finishes.

“Good” you respond.

“Well done sister” he nods leaving the room. You sigh deeply knowing Feyd is now deep in a web. Staring at the contraceptive tea your brother has placed beside the gloves you contemplate the future. “Now, it’s time to keep them busy” your brother says leaving your quarters.

SUCCESSION …

War had left Feyd preoccupied for the past few years and it was your fathers doing that none of his correspondence attempts made their way to you. Your brother had been a step ahead of every visit in an attempt to keep Feyd at bay, your father compliant and your reputation intact. Feyd had sent spies but they’d been unsuccessful in finding anything of consequence. You remained unwed training new recruits in a remote part of the country. There were modified designs of his gloves being used in combat and using your forces at his side had easily become one of his better decisions. It was why he was here now after all this time. Your father had passed on and his ally to become the planet's ruler. But, it was no secret he’d come all this way to see you. Still after so much time and many women there was always one who he could not shake. The cut on his forearm he refused to treat etched you into his skin and cellular memory. It was beyond time for him to take a wife and he was set on you, in spite of his advisors' cautions. Taking the path to the ceremony he finds the inhabitants clad in black. Mournful cries from a few mothers follow and he spies all of his sons. He’s seated among the esteemed guests and he finds you expressionless seated with the women. The wind blows your veil as you disassociate, Feyd becomes reckless.

Shifting in his seat the procession takes too long. The singing is horrible as is the burial. Every attempt to get close to you fails. One of his spies passes him coordinates to your place and after the feast you are noticeably absent from Feyd finds you removing your headdress.

“Why haven't you returned my messages?” Feyd asks and you turn to face him. He’s unchanged. His spectacular features have been frozen in time.

“My father was not a fan of our time together” you respond honestly. “I never received any messages” you tell him honestly.

“Shouldn't have stopped you from reaching out?”

“To Feyd-Rautha, who can have any woman he wants? To think our time together was of any significance to you?” you ask amused. “Na-Baron, Baron, usurper, co-emperor” you list his accolades. He sticks you with a truth poison and you smile. Removing the stinging vile. His lips find yours in a fevered kiss.

“Did you get my messages” he growls looking up at him your answer is unchanged. Not for the ineffective poisons.

“No,” you whisper and Feyd picks you up heading to the bed. He's rough and you moan getting lost in the kiss. Only for it to stop abruptly. Feyd’s body stiffens and he rolls off the bed falling onto the floor with terrified eyes. Alarmed you sit up to find your son manning the choking shield and disengaged it in a flash.

“No mommy, he was hurting you and he’s a stranger” your son snaps in a combative stance. But when Feyd stands the boy looks up in shock knowing the legendary Feyd-Rautha. The anger of his attack leaves him as he eyes the small child. Once ferocious he sees fear creeping into the kids' eyes. Eyes he knows too well from seeing them in his reflection. Swallowing, he squats down to the boy's eye level.

“What do they call you?” he rasps.

“Valyr” he says with a strong chest full of pride. Nodding he takes in the boys features his obvious strength, natural suspicion and strength. He counts back the years as he stands upright. The world would call him Valyr but Feyd would call the boy son and you wife. The planet would be fortified for your protection and a bastard daughter would be the planet's sustenance and salvation.

Authors Note: How did you like this all in one style story? It was fun to write. I hope yo do more of these especially considering how many of you miss Feyd. I don't want to keep the Feyd Brigade waiting too long! What was your favourite rite part? Don't forget to like, comment & reblog for more 🖤🩶

TAGS:

@elf-punk @dvmb4ssbiatch @thegabbyh @fanfiction-addict22 @meetmeatyourworst @jojoclown69 @lillypink @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @avidreader73 @emeraldsgirl33 @strawberryfieldsforevermore @rose-are-royal @delusionsofnostalgia @szapizzapanda @palomavz @mcswan02 @slutforsmut4ever @emeraldsgirl @jackiekae @sarahhelpimsinking @maat-the-prescriptive @moonsoulk @katherineswiftie2017-blog @melancholicmelanin @littlebugs @alexa4040 @unicoreads @mimsie95 @mamawiggers1980 @miaraised @7-reblogs @snwells @wo-ming-bai @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @the-na-baroness @slytherinholland

#austin butler imagine #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune part 2 #austin butler x black reader

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arc-misadventures · 4 days ago

Note

Meet the Family Au Rin: Rin takes Jaune to her destroyed town where she made makeshift graves for her parents. Rin she talks about her and Jaune while Jaune just supports her. (Nora and Pyrrha are taking down any Grimm near by. The entire team already killed the Nuckalevee)

Meet the Family: Rin

Rin: So this... this is what's left of my hometown... It was destroyed by that, Nuckalevee we killed...

Jaune: This place is... whoa...

Rin: Yeah.. My family's house was right there.

Jaune: That pile of rubble, and ash?

Rin: Yes... My mom died in that house...

Jaune: Oh... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry to hear that, Rin.

Rin: It's okay, Jaune. My father also died here... somewhere... He died trying to kill the, Knucklevee. But, he failed... I met, Nora after that when we were trying to escape from here.

Jaune: Are you okay, Rin? Being here, after everything that has happened... It must be hard for you.

Rin: It's a little hard, but... y-your here with me, Jaune.. so... It doesn't hurt as much...

Jaune: Rin...

Rin: ...

Rin: I... I want to make a memorial...

Jaune: A memorial?

Rin: Y-Yeah... I know how to make shift one based on my families traditions... c-could you help me make one?

Jaune: It would be my honour.

~~~

Rin: Okay... It's done...

Jaune: You know... for a pile of rocks... It's really nice.

Rin: Thank you, Jaune... this means a lot to me.

Jaune: Like I said, Rin; It's my honour.

Rin: T-Thank you...

Jaune: Are we done, or is there something else we need to do?

Rin: Well... We bow our heads, and say a silent prayer to the departed. Unless you're not comfortable with that...?

Jaune: That's fine. Alright, after you then?

Rin: (Clap!)

Jaune: (Clap!)

Rin: Mom, Dad... It's me... Rin... I'm doing well... I've avenged you, I slayed the, Knucklevee... And, I've also found, a home.. I have new friends, and a new family... and... and someone special I want to spend the rest of my life with... Thank you for all that you've done for me... I love you... Goodbye...

Jaune: Mr. and Mrs. Rin... You're daughter... Lian Rin is a wonderful person. She is brave, warm, sweet, and beautiful... I thank you for bring her into this world... And, I swear on my families name of, Luna Jaune Arc that I will protect her... and, if I could have your permission... to one day... marry her, and take her as my wife... I may have to marry several girls... they won't take no for an answer. But, nonetheless! I wish to marry her... I pray for your blessing... I love her, and I want her to stay in my life, now, and forever... I promise... May your souls rest in peace...

Jaune: Okay... now what?

Rin: I guess we can leave now... there's nothing else to be done...

Jaune: Yeah... the others will be waiting for us. But, don't you want to check your old home? You might find something there?

Rin: N-No... Everything was destroyed in the fire. Not even my mothers remains...

Jaune: Alright I thought I should...

(Tink~!)

Jaune: Hmm...? What's this...?

Jaune: A ring?

Rin: A ring...? Wait...?! That's my moms wedding band!

Jaune: Your moms wedding ring? Well... That's one hell of an answer...

Rin: C-Can I have that back, Jaune...? Please...?

Jaune: Of course; Hold out your hand.

Rin: Okay.

Rin: W-W-Wait...?! Jaune that's my...?!

Jaune: There... Perfect fit...

Rin: Jaune... Y-You didn't need to put it there... people will think you asked me to marry you...

Jaune: Do you want me to get a different ring then?

Rin: ...

Rin: W-What...? W-What are you talking about, Jaune...?

Jaune: Rin...

Jaune: Marry me?

Rin: Yes.

Jaune: That was fast. You barely even thought about it.

Rin: I've been thinking about it since I first met you...

Jaune: Really?

Rin: W-Well... not imminently after meeting you... but, seeing how you treated the three of us... I couldn't help but fall in love with you... So... I... I can't help, but imagine being married to you, Jaune. So... Yes, I will marry you, Jaune Luna Arc...

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Luna is actually my first name...

Rin: R-Really?

Jaune: Never liked it as a first name...

Rin: Well... I'll make you love it, Luna...

Jaune: We'll see about that... Lian...

~~~

Nora: YESYESYESYES!!!

Pyrrha: Oh gods... That was beautiful!

Nora: Yes! Kiss the girl, Jaune! Shower her in love, and affection!

Pyrrha: One down two to go!

Nora: Bet ya he'll ask me to marry him before you!

Pyrrha: I'll take that bet!

Beowulf: GRRR! RAHH!

(BANG!)

Nora: Excuse me?! We're having a moment here?!

Pyrrha: Motherfuckers!

~~~

(KA-BOOM!!!)

JR: ...

Jaune: I think, Nora's blown a fuse...

Rin: Pyrrha also...

JR: ...

Jaune: Well then... shall we get going then?

Rin: Let's...

Jaune: After you then, Mrs. Arc.

Rin: This is the best day ever~!

#rwby #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #jaune x ren #ren x jaune #rwby martial arcs

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thebellearchives · 8 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : staring at Solomon you realise how lucky you are to be by his side and how much more time you’d like to spend with him

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, second part to blessed although you don’t need to read it to understand this one

‧₊˚ a / n : i was having a hopeless romantic moment and remembered that sol shot i wrote for @nnnneeev (‘: blessed was centered around solomon’s thoughts so i thought it would be nice to write mc’s thoughts this time! enjoy!

You look up from the book you’re holding. Across the table, Solomon squints a little as he studies the amount of liquid in the vial before pouring it in a small cauldron. The sight of him makes you instantly forget all of the words printed in the old book he lent you. You forget your surroundings, the question you were about to ask, the experiment you had been helping him with. Your eyes glide all over him, his long fingers reach for a flower and pick out three petals. His silver eyes flicker towards the book on his right side, double checking he’s using the right amount, and his pearly hair almost hides those beautiful irises from you.

Every little thing about him captures your attention, the way his long white lashes frame his eyes as he goes back to the cauldron, the ways he slightly licks his lower lip unconsciously. If it weren’t for those little movements you’d think he’s a figment of your imagination, but it’s the way his pupils dilate slightly when he uses a little bit of fire to burn the petals that makes you think that yes, he’s real. He’s alive, he breathes the same air as you and my god, it feels like a dream. He looks like a dream.

It’s not like you’d usually forget all that you’ve been through in the devildom, but when you have the chance to admire him you do. You don’t remember how you ended up helping him with this new experiment, how you ended up being his apprentice. One day you were living your life up in the human world and the next you were staring at the immortal sorcerer who had showed you more than you would’ve ever believed real. It’s a privilege, really, to have in front of you someone as knowledgeable and passionate as him. You could hardly believe he was who he was, or the position you had found yourself in.

You hadn’t lived as much as he had, that was for sure, but it was moments like this that made it all worth it. And maybe, just maybe, he thought the same way? Maybe he was finally content with the life his immortality had brought him to? It had been a long time since he said something negative about it, you had noticed.

He calls your name then, and you jolt a little, blinking repeatedly as he snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Are you okay?” he chuckles, his bright smile has you swooning in your head “are you having trouble with the book?”

“No” you shake your head and smile back “sorry, i just kinda zoned out”

“Yeah? What were you thinking about?” he raises his brows curiously, a little teasing smile curves the corners of his lips.

You remain silent for a second, trying to decide if you want to be honest or just play it off. Until you remember some words he told you weeks ago, and you smile a little too.

“Just that you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

You know you caught him off guard when his hands stop mid-air. His eyes widen a bit, and you notice the way his cheeks slowly start turning red little by little. He clears his throat, flustered, resuming the potion process.

“I’m… honoured you think that way, angel”

A warm feeling sits on your chest at his tender tone, and the blush in his cheeks makes you feel a little proud. You know he’s not as good at receiving compliments as he thinks he is, and you finally understand why he finds it so amusing to fluster you too. You knew it then: you’d never regret eternity if you could spend it by his side.

#; fluffy belle #obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #solomon x you #obey me solomon x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #gn!reader #gn!mc

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lost-in-lamentation · 1 year ago

Text

kissed off guard.

what better way to surprise your lover than a gentle kiss?

content: catching the brothers off guard with a quick little kiss. (all brothers × gen!reader).

fluff + a little bit crack. suggestive for asmo + lucifer, nothing explicit.

belphegor; right as he wakes up.

it's not uncommon for you to be the one who wakes the youngest in the mornings. belphegor has had centuries of practice of sleeping through his brothers yelling voices, so who else better to wake him up than you? you decide to test how quickly you can wake him up, and there's no faster technique than a kiss. waiting for his eyes to flutter open, you call belphegor's name softly, watching for the moment he pushes himself off the bed. still groggy, he blinks slowly at you, eyes remaining half closed. at least, until you press a light peck on his nose. the avatar of sloth shoots out of bed in record speed, one hand pressed to his mouth and the other clutching at his chest.

"what was that?!" belphegor shouts at you, backing into a wall.

you shrug nonchalantly, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you turn on your heel and head out the room. "just wanted to try something out."

═ ˎˊ˗

beelzebub; while sharing food.

beelzebub sharing his food with you is the highest honour. on the other hand, you sharing your food with beelzebub is a given. if you don't give him some, he'll most likely steal some (by accident, he swears) anyway. you've never minded, and most of the time, you'll order extra so that you can have enough for yourself even with the gluttony demon helping himself to your meal. this time, you made sure beelzebub didn't see you grab a popsicle for yourself, hoping to set him up for a little surprise. when the demon returns to your side, his gaze flickers between yours and the popsicle. of course, he says yes to the bite that you offer him, waving the popsicle in front of your face until he takes the bait. just when he gets close enough to you, you steal the popsicle away, instead placing your lips where his are.

beelzebub stares at you a good moment, cheeks reddening before he pulls back and snaps his head to the side to avoid looking at you. "er... sorry... i didn't think you'd move it..."

"it's okay, beel. besides, you still technically got a taste, right?" you purr, taking delight in the way his face flushes.

═ ˎˊ˗

asmodeus; in the bath.

it's rather hard to catch someone like asmodeus off guard. you figure that he has a sixth sense when it comes to anyone within 6 feet who wants to give him attention. so, your last resort is to catch him in his most vulnerable state; while he's taking a bath. it's an idea that takes multiple tries. some days, you wait and listen outside his private bathroom, hoping to hear the light snores that accompany the demon when he's tired enough to fall asleep in the tub. the day that it happens, you're silently cracking the door open, thankful that the door doesn't creak as it allows you space to enter. as if you had experience in pulling pranks that required you to be quiet (which you do, thanks to satan), you crawl over to the bath, peering over the edge just enough to see asmodeus' resting form. you inhale once, gathering your courage, before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss on his shoulder.

asmodeus splashes himself awake at the sensation, soaking you in the process. "you-! MC!"

"got nothing to say for once, hm?" your teasing lilt almost has him fuming, but there's another desire that's threatening to take over first.

═ ˎˊ˗

satan; after stealing his book.

during one of your regular cat café outings with satan, you decide to have a little fun with the blonde. satan, as smooth as ever, was always one step ahead of you when it came to flirting. he was just too in tune with everything that you were; it was both your favourite and your least favourite thing about him. it takes a while for you to set the whole situation up. everytime satan turns to pet a cat or take a sip of his drink, you shift closer to him, all the way until you sit shoulder to shoulder. the demon only gives you a curious glance, but returns to his reading in no time. you focus back onto your book as well, waiting for when satan becomes immersed enough in the story that he doesn't notice your hand creeping towards the spine of his book. in a flash, you snatch the book away from him, and as he turns to give you a glare, you place a gentle kiss right on his cheek.

"oi, w-what's the deal?" satan stares at you, hand hovering right over where you kissed him.

you hold his book in front of him, smiling like you didn't do anything. "oh, just felt like it."

═ ˎˊ˗

leviathan; when he wins a game.

you watch leviathan's screen with much anticipation. he had been playing an all night tournament and was close to the end, which meant you could give him his little surprise soon. you spent the night in his room by accident, falling asleep in his tub while he mashed the buttons on his controller. of course, when you wake up in the morning, he's still going for it, eyes red from staring at the screen, but no less focused than before. the good thing about leviathan being distracted by games means you can do almost anything without him noticing. so when you see the end of his game marathon approaching, you crawl out of the tub and set yourself behind him, waiting for the screen to light up in victory. as soon as it does, leviathan whips around to wake you and tell you the good news, but you're faster. you're kneeling behind him already, and when his face is within reach, you cup his cheek with one hand and brush his bangs away with another, kissing him softly on his forehead.

leviathan stutters incoherently, trembling hands dropping his controller before he releases an unfortunately high pitched squeal. "g-give me a warning!! like a two- no- three month warning before doing that!"

"sorry, i just wanted to surprise you," you say as you stifle a laugh, trying to peel leviathan's hands away from his face.

═ ˎˊ˗

mammon; after getting into his car.

a midnight car ride is one of your favourite ways to wind down after a long day, and mammon knows it. he can already sense the exhaustion that drips off you, and your first man is always ready to offer the passenger seat to you once he's done all of his errands. tonight, mammon has some extra work to do for lucifer, but he hands you the keys to his car and tells you to wait for him there while he finishes up. as you get into the car, you decide to pull a sneak attack on him later, which leads to you leaning the seat back and tucking yourself into your hoodie as you wait. with the amount of times you had already fallen asleep in mammon's car, it was almost easier to just fall asleep instead of pretending. but you keep yourself awake, and you're glad you did when you hear mammon open the driver's door and mutter to himself about how you had gone and fallen asleep before the ride. you feel him hover above you as he tries to buckle you in, but before he can finish, you wrap your arms around his neck and tug him close, kissing him on the underside of his jaw.

mammon blinks at you, dumbfounded, before placing his hands on your shoulders and pushing himself away. "you- you're a jerk! why'd ya do that?!"

you brush his hands off, returning your seat to the right position and putting your seatbelt on. "i could just tell the great mammon needed some affection."

═ ˎˊ˗

lucifer; in the middle of a meeting.

it's not your fault for being so distracted. it's definitely lucifer's for being so dedicated to his work that he can't give you the time of day. so, you can't blame yourself for always shooting him a glance, even if he's already tried to reprimand you for not being focused. you groan internally everytime you look at the clock; you were fairly certain that this meeting didn't need to be two hours long anyways. by the time the meeting is at the ending remarks, you don't even realize it, having stared off into space for at least the last half hour. as you blink yourself back into reality, you make out the figures of lucifer and diavolo talking to each other about the budgeting for RAD classes, which you should be involved in, but can't bring yourself to join. instead, you decide to get lucifer's attention, beckoning him over with a wave. lucifer raises an eyebrow at you, but another wave of your hand has the avatar of pride walking over to you. you stand up to meet him, waiting for lucifer to stop in front of you before you pull him in, sealing your lips with his. lucifer's eyes widen in shock before promptly closing in bliss. for a second, he forgets where he is, until he hears diavolo laughing heartily from across the room. he quickly pulls away from you, straightening his uniform.

"... MC, please save these sorts of things for another occasion and not the meetings," lucifer says, voice cracking at the end of his sentence.

you send a wink towards diavolo, having to stop yourself from laughing at lucifer's expression. "that's lucifer speak for 'later tonight.'"

a/n: if you saw this while it was unfinished... no you didn't 😭😭😭

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #aris writes 🐈‍⬛

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acotarxreader · 7 months ago

Text

Jilted

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: The morning of your wedding your fears are enforced by an old way of thought, sending you running and Azriel to cope with the aftermath but will a reunion set you both back on the path you should both be living?

Warnings: Angsty

A/N: Right, you may find yourself hating Reader for a bit but I tried my best convey the panic and pressure.

-------------------------------------------------------

“I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this”

“Shh YNN you'll be fine! This is what you want!” Mor caught you in her arms, your train half tangling your feet. You cried into her chest, not caring if your make-up was streaming down your face, your sister and maid of honour rocking you gently.

“YN, come on sweetie, it's just pre-wedding jitters, happens to most, Azriel will be waiting to see his beautiful bride!”

“Mor it's too soon! I was going to be a writer! Go off and live on the continent, I have never even been! There's still so much I want to go and do!”

“And you will! You will YN! You and Az will do that together and more! Marriage isn't going to change that!”

“You're right, you're right” You pulled from her, rubbed under your eyes and sat back down at the vanity. You looked into the mirror at the person you hardly recognised and silently went about reapplying your makeup.

“You look beautiful YN” You could only nod at her, afraid if you opened your mouth again it would set off a series of unfortunate events.

“I’m going to go check on Azriel” She gave you a smile before ducking out of the pastel room, leaving you alone. You steadied your breathing, batting your tears away with your lashes before they could fall further. You loved Azriel, he was your life force, saved you from yourself and you returned the same to him. He was your everything. These thoughts brought ease to you. You ran a soft hairbrush through your flowing locks, a smile beginning to reappear on your face.

“Oh you look lovely my child” The sound of a weathered female's voice came up behind you, causing you to jump slightly. She was of pure Illyrian blood, a representative of a dying way of thought, a relic in her own right, Azriels only remaining relative he was in contact with.

“Thank you, Elena” You found your head bowing slightly to her, unsure of why, you out-ranked her and yet you felt the pressure of the millennia of the institution she represented weigh on you.

“You're going to make a wonderful wife YN” She almost snaked up behind you as quietly as she entered the room as you watched her in the reflection. You tried not to stare at the clipped tattered wings that hung from the female, she tucked them in as if noticing your glance.

“I just know you'll keep him a nice life”

“What do you mean?” You turned to face the skeletal woman, her bone-chilling words wrapping around your lungs.

“Well, I mean being the wife of a powerful Illyrian of course! And just think YN when the children come along you'll be so busy raising the next generation of warriors! Not much time for other things but what could be more important than the bloodline? Azriel is a hard worker, I know he'll provide in tenfolds” She smiled as if she wasn't throwing a live grenade, it began to smoke as the pin was pulled from it inside your head. You could feel your chest compressing further with the strangling tradition.

“Well, Az and I will be both working and you know we won't be having offspring until after we travel and even then we'll both be looking after them” You tried to calm yourself down but her shrill laughter put a quick stop to relief you had from your own words.

“Oh, my child don't we all think that! You're marrying an Illyrian, bastard born or not-” the words cut you, anger replacing anxiety for a moment until she continued “-He can’t suppress the urges of his blood. His life partner will be malleable, mute and well-behaved, does what is expected of her. Azriel has other things to be doing for his Court than raising children, female work”

“I-” You couldn’t find the words through the magma-thick matter-of-fact speech she choked you with.

“-Well, I must go make myself useful elsewhere child” Her crochet-hook-like fingers dug into your shoulders with a squeeze before she turned and left you in the solitude of your room once more.

You could feel the air rush from your lungs as you fought to stop the oxygen from evaporating from your blood. You stood, pacing, blood rushing to your face as you stumbled on the train of your dress, hitting the carpet with unforgiving force. You lay for a moment on the carpet, hands splayed out in front of you, your engagement catching the light like you loved. It suddenly feeling much too tight.

“Gods! Fuck! I can’t do this!” You stood on rattling knees, grabbing things frantically from the dresser before you could fully become cognisant of the actions.

You moved quickly and carefully through the door and into the empty hallway, avoiding the directions where laughs leaked out, them falling like battle cries in your ears.

You reached the stone steps of the venue with quiet desperation, your adrenaline and anxiety now fully controlling your body as you bolted down the path, half stumbling. You whipped around to look back up to the hill where the hall of your friends and family waited for the blushing bride, tears claiming your face as their own as you dashed into the streets of Velaris before anyone inside became the wiser.

—----------

Funerals are a strange thing. They do strange things to people. You thought this as you stood at the back of a hall you had not been inside in almost 70 years, thought about how the female they were saying goodbye to today shook your entire life up like it was nothing. You looked around and imagined it the week after you left, the day you left, the hour after you left. You thought of the moments you missed with your chosen family since you fled the Night Court and all its wonderful attributes, you pushed the guilt you had been fighting ever since then back down

From the back row, your eyes landed on the backs of the three Archeron sisters, their stories meeting you on your travels around the globe. You smothered the smile that toyed at your mouth, the thoughts of your friends happy and in love warming you. Your gaze landed on the the back of Azriels head as it hung in respect. Too much, this was too much, you couldn’t deal with him seeing you. As you had 70 years previously, you slipped from the hall without anyone noticing.

You were met with the warm Spring sun, a beautiful day in Velaris, as they all were. You wandered down the unforgiving steps, your name from a familiar voice stopping you.

“Yn?”

“Mor!”

“Yn!” She ran down the steps, taking you in her arms, the feeling of home rushing to you. You were so happy to hold your sister having worked through the issues that arose from your wedding day. At first, she rightfully iced you entirely but after two decades of silence, she reached out, asking to reconnect, missing her sister in the fray and yet you always found an excuse to not come home.

“Yn I'm so happy you're back! You came back for the funeral?”

“Yeah I did, felt I needed to”

“Yeah I mean I suppose they were almost your family too” she smiled before realising her words and apologising, a weak smile grew on your face in acceptance of the throwaway comment. The two of you continued down a winding road away from the groups leaking out of the hall.

“So how long are you here?”

“Just the weekend, I have meetings on Monday, I’m staying at our old apartment, remember?”

“Oh yes! Just a flying visit so, the busy life of a successful big-time author I suppose”

“Oh yeah, I'm plagued with the title” you laughed, finally meeting the Sidra as it coursed, its glimmering water making you smile.

“Yeah, your success really boomed after leaving here” She almost sounded sad before beaming at you again and catching your hands in hers.

“I guess, I missed you though, I missed the Night Court”

“And Azriel?” The name struck pure pain into your heart, as if seeing the back of his head in the hall wasn't bad enough, hearing his name was almost catastrophic, you only nodded.

“Well, he misses you too YN” She squeezed your hands.

“He doesn't, he couldn't, not after what I did to him Mor” She looked at you with sympathy, looking back up the street you just walked down.

“I have to get back, they’ll be looking for me” You gave her an understanding smile

“Meet me for a drink later in Rita’s, we have so much to catch up on” as she kissed your cheek goodbye with her words before returning back up the street to the hall again.

You looked out over the Sidra, an empty plot of land ripping through your heart. It was there where you and Azriel were going to build, it still stayed empty. A mausoleum to your relationship. You peeled your eyes from it, looking elsewhere around the city you adored, deciding to spend the remainder of your evening re-acquainting yourself with it.

Night fell in the city of stars as you found your way towards the Town House by muscle memory alone. You felt so alive being back, more alive than any amount of travel or success ever brought you. You leaned against the fence, waiting happily for your sister.

“Y-Yn?” his face dropped, his voice alone causing you to bite the inside of your mouth to almost bleed. The red flush from your walking was gone from your face growing pale at the sight of him standing on the other side of the street. He crossed slowly as if any sudden movement would send you running.

“H-Hi Az-Azriel, you look - you look well”

“Thank- what are you doing here YN?” tones of confused sadness left Azriel, the anger towards you he felt so many years ago unable to be conjured back at will. He thought about this moment so often and yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d said in those imaginary encounters.

“I-I’m meeting Mor, I-”

“Azriel, hey there you are!” The small beaming brunette Fae seemingly came from nowhere to his side, her hand tucking into his so effortlessly. You pushed every yearning thought from your head and plastered a smile onto your face that didn’t fully meet your eyes.

“Maya, go tell Mor her sister is here, I’ll meet you inside” She raked her eyes up your and down your full body with such subtle brutality before kissing Azriel’s cheek goodbye, sauntering up the path to the house.

“She seems nic-”

“She is” He almost bit, his eyes felt like daggers on your skin.

“I-”

“-What are you doing here YN?” his tone matched his eyes.

“I just came for the funeral”

“And now what?”

“I’m meeting Mor and then heading to our old place to stay” “And then?” “Then, I’m heading back to the continent” You weren't sure why you were answering, you suppose you owed him that much, the heat of his eyes making you feel vulnerable.

“I heard your writing is doing pretty well there, pretty well everywhere”

“Yeah”

“Hope it was worth it YN” Words like fire burning you all over, and yet you felt you deserved worse. He sighed when you didn't respond before pushing past you, following the path Maya had just trotted up.

“It wasn't," you said the words before you knew what you were saying, back towards him before looking over your shoulder, now fully meeting his eyes. He looked as though he was going to say something but Mor came flying out her front door.

“Sorry I'm late YN I was- oh, sorry am I interrupting something?”

“No Mor, I was just leaving” and then he did. Gone again.

“How did that go?” Mor looped her arm through yours, prying you from leaning on the wall to head down the street again.

“Fine” you tried a smile and failed.

“You met Maya”

“Always one for sensitivity Mor” You smiled at your sister and she was instant apologies.

“I’m sorry, I forgot they were coming over tonight… Maya isn't anything like you if that helps. He went a bit off the walls when you left. Cassian thinks he's going to propose to that tonight, hope he's all wrong. He's totally settling especially since Rhys and Cass have their mates now. She's nothing like you and I think he knows that, just ignoring it. It's kinda sad and- oh hey YN I didn't mean to make you cry” she said the words like throwaway gossip, forgetting her audience only to have your rising tears land her back to earth.

“No no it's okay Mor, I'm just going to go home”

“Aw come on, I'm sorry!” you stopped on the path, her soft eyes giving you no comfort.

“Not as sorry as I am Mor” You took off then, in the direction of your old shared house.

You lay in your bed, rain threatening to come through the slate roof. Tossing and turning you finally decided to get up and wander your old house you had with Mor before meeting Azriel. Looking in drawers filled with old pictures, ones of you when you were a kid, playing with the Mor. More recent ones of you with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, Azriels arm draped around you. You ran your fingers over the tarnished picture, a tear dripping onto the film before you tucked it back into the worn drawer.

You meandered through the living room, stopping at the old mahogany press. You knew what was in there and you didn't want to see it. Looking at that engagement ring again would be the end of you.

A loud banging came drumming against the door causing you to jump from the crushing thought. You wrapped the dressing gown tighter around yourself before opening the door to see the tormented, rain-soaked Illyrian before you. He waited for no invitation before blowing in past you, the cold leaking from him.

“I COULDN'T DO IT!”

“Do what Azriel?! What's wrong?!”

“I couldn't ask Maya to marry me! There's fucking caution tape around my heart because of you! I would have been fine if you had just left me alone to wallow in anger all those years ago I would have been fine! But No! I just had to fuck around and get attached to you!” He threw his arms in the air, words hot with anger.

“You're blaming me for loving you?!” You found his words caused you your own irritation.

“Yeah! Yeah I am! You just had to pay attention to me! You just had to care about me! You just had to-”

“Had to what?! Had to love you!” you couldn’t believe you snapped out the words as they floated to his ears.

“YEAH! AND YOU JUST HAD TO LEAVE ME!” Knives to your mind would have been less painful, he almost rattled in anger, a mere metre away from you, his shadows vibrating at his feet in anger.

“I had to leave Azriel I wasn't ready!”

“YOU COULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT TO MY FACE!? BECAUSE YOU COULD HAVE! ANYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN STANDING UP ON THAT FUCKING ALTER WAITING FOR YOU!” his arms raised in the air with his words, causing you to flinch slightly.

“Azriel-”

“When we were together what was the thing you always said to me?! It was that you wouldn't leave me, that you wouldn't abandon me like everyone else. YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T AND YOU FUCKING DID!”

“I know Az I know” you were crying now, throwing yourself back on the couch, floods of memories of those very conversations threatening to drown you.

“You know?! Then why did you do it! The truth!”

“Elena came to me before the wedding and said all this stuff about what a wife should do and be and how I wasn't going to have time to write anymore and all the kids would be left to me and I wasn't ready! I WASN'T READY FOR THAT KIND OF PRESSURE THE ILLYRIANS WERE PUSHING ON ME!”

“YEAH! THE ILLYRIANS NOT ME! I NEVER EVER SAID ANYTHING LIKE THAT! NEVER EVEN THOUGHT IT!” you buried your head in your hands at his shouting, the action sending a ping of regret through Azriel but the repressed rage he felt towards you had to get out.

“You hurt me YN YLN. The wedding bells were just alarms to you”

“I don't know what to say but I want you to know that I understand that you hate me, I'll leave tomorrow, Ill go!” you swept the tears from your face, feeling you didn’t deserve to have them, the maker behind this mess.

“I missed you” his words completely caught you off guard as you brought yourself to look at him once again, his wild wrathful eyes replaced by utterly heartbroken ones.

“I miss you and I shouldn't. I can't move on from you! I haven't slept properly since you left! Every damn night it's a new nightmare and then I wake up and you're not there like you used to be and it's a different kind of nightmare! I miss you being there next to me at the dinner table, at Rita’s, at stupid fucking court functions, just doing absolutely fuck all with you! The number of times I thought about contacting you, visiting you, the amount of letters I wrote and never sent-” It was the first time he hadn't had a raised voice since he came into the house but being faced with the fallout of your actions in his ice tone made you miss the screaming to some degree.

“I'M SORRY! I AM WHAT ELSE CAN I SAY!” you found yourself shouting back, anything to deafen your inner voice.

“Do you miss me?” his icy tone melted slightly at your unfamiliar raised voice.

“Yes” you stood again from the sofa.

“I'm with Maya”

“I know”

“But she's not you”

“No”

“I hate you YN" The words hurt every inch of your body, every cell felt searing unwavering pain, the sentence you never thought you’d hear him say. The familiar feeling of your lungs being strangled beat in your chest, unable to recover from the mortal wound. You did what you did best and ran, out the door and into the rain-soaked Velarian streets.

“YN stop!” he followed you quickly as you made it halfway down the street, he would not have you slip from him again.

“No! I hurt you! I broke you and myself in the process all for selfish reasons and I still love you Azriel!” you went to run again but his firm hand on your forearm stopped you, spinning you to face him as his wild face dripped in rain.

“I hate that I love you YN”

“What?” you said softly over the thundering rain. Azriel looked from your face to over your shoulder. You turned to follow his eyes down the street, the plot of land haunting the other side of the Sidra.

“You ever wonder what we could have been? We were supposed to live there after we got married, we'd probably have kids and all now” his tone had softened at the sight of the overgrown plot.

“Yeah, we probably would” You stood next to him looking at the patch of home, you gave a weak smile.

“But you might not have your successful career”

“I'd have you, that would be worth more”

“You don't mean that YN”

“I do” he turned to completely face you then.

“Never thought I'd hear you say those words” You bit your lip and you could have sworn Azriel fought a slight smile at your discomfort.

“You should go propose to Maya -” Your mouth was betraying your heart “- And I should leave and live the life I chose because I can't be around the life I should be living”

“Do you think you'd want to live it if I gave you the choice now?” his eyes searched yours, fully softening for the first time since he landed on the doorstep.

“I do”

“Yn I hate you and I love you but mostly I just hate that I love you” He felt no longer in control of his urges, leaning into you as he took hold of your soaked hips and leaned down to kiss swirls of what should have been and what could have taking you both over.

15 years later.

You lay down in the sun of the wildflower garden, your eyes took rest in the warm glow of the sun, taking a moment of rest after months of traveling with your new novel.

“ARGH!” You shrieked at the rush of cold water soaking you down to your skin.

“Azriel!” you bolted from where you lay, chasing your husband who clutched the hose down the length of the garden, only to be stopped dead by his sudden decrease in velocity.

“Big mistake YNN” You looked at him puzzled only to hear the roaring laughter of your two children launch out of the hedges and armed with water balloons that they doused you with, gaining more screams of pure unadulterated joy. You collapsed to the grass as they overwhelmed you with their hysterics, climbing all over you, Azriel watching on so lovingly, so whole.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I promise the next fic will be more silly goofy! Let me know what you think!

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impactedfates · 10 months ago

Note

Hi hi I'm feeling so cruel right now >:]

So uuuh HCs for DH[IL], Jingyuan, Blade and Welt reacts how does their child [reader] dies... Like imagine how reader dies is like how the Genshin Playable characters die [they dusted away]

Please feed me a n gst

—🫶🏻 Anon

★ A/N: The way the reader dies reminds me of how one of my ocs species dies lmao. Hopefully this is up your ally :))

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Angst

★ Format: Bullet Pointed HeadCannons (It kinda turned into a mini story I think-)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of Death (Readers)

★ Extra: Adopted reader in all // Reader is under 12 for Dan Fengs, and in their teens for the rest // Giving Jing Yuan more of a sad life/hj // Wrote this in WellBeing class lmao // Characters may be OOC

Dan Feng as a High Elder doesn’t always have the time to really see you. Sure when he first adopted you he did spend a good chunk of his time with you but eventually his duties caught up.

He appointed someone to look after you. Someone that you knew and that he knew. Someone trustworthy.

So when he came back to his home early one day, the house dead silent. He grew worried. He called out to the person, to you. But there was no response.

He walked to your room, perhaps the both of you fell asleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But all he could witness was dust covering your room. And the man no where to be seen.

He knew instantly where that dust came from, he was quick to search for him. Found him hiding thinking he could get away, unaware that Dan Feng would be home early, unaware Dan Feng would catch him.

The man he had trusted to protect you, was the same man who ended the life you should’ve continued to have.

Dan Feng was quick to throw the man in the Shackling Prison, praying to whatever Aeon that can hear him that he gets what he deserves.

He collected as much of the dust that was still in his house, the last thing that he had of you. And carefully placed them in a jar.

Many question the High Elder why he holds a jar of dust so dearly to him, and all those times he refuses to answer. Not wanting to break down in front of the other Vidyadharas.

It was only a mission, a mission he sent you and Yanqing on. He had thought there were only a few Mara struck soldiers that had to be defeated.

He had wondered why Yanqing slowly entered the Seat of Divine Foresight without you. He had wondered why Yanqing was breathing rapidly and on the verge of tears.

Jing Yuan comforted Yanqing before asking about your whereabouts. Perhaps you were getting snacks after a successful mission? Yanqing could only try to explain in a shaky voice, clearly startled and upset.

But why would he be upset? You were his adopted sibling and was usually so kind to him. You wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him?

Yanqing tried his best to explain, stuttering over his words and needing to take a few deep breaths, the General listened carefully.

…Ambush? Well…Jing Yuan supposed he made an error in that. He only thought there were a few. Wow, if you and Yanqing didn’t know about that then you could’ve been caught off guard and…

Oh!

Oh…

Jing Yuan quickly connected the dots, he slowly held Yanqing closer, witnessing his own sibling fall to the hands of the Mara struck then be faced with dealing with the remaining enemies…he couldn’t imagine the stress.

A ceremony was held in your honour. Your dust already gone away like the wind so your memories will follow as he sends multiple starsciff at with gifts.

But he’ll always remember, he’ll remember the regret he felt that he couldn’t do anything nor could he have seen that an ambush would occur.

He wished he could’ve done something.

Are you dumb or something??

Blade could’ve taken that hit. Why’d you have to take it!?

He would’ve been fine. He wouldn’t been okay, a relief would’ve washed over him even though he knew he’d survive.

So then why did you have to take the hit that was meant for him, and leave him in a state of rage?

He quickly disposed of the pests that caused your demise, before trying to check on you. But all he could do was watch as your body dusts away.

He tried his best to grab any dust he could but most went with the wind. All he could do was stand there questioning why you would do that.

He said he’d protect you. Everyone else in the Stellaron Hunters were busy so he had to take you with him when he did his part. Yet it ended with you gone.

There was a small ceremony for your disappearance from the earth. Elio as much as he may not want too, he continued sending people on missions however allowed Blade to opt out of them he could properly mourn.

Blade still wonders why you decided to save him when he would’ve been fine, he wonders if he’d be able to save you if he noticed the enemy creepy behind him.

It was just a small argument. Welt felt bad but allowed you to storm off. You’d return eventually anyways. You’d return once dinner was ready back at the express, you knew what time that was.

But you never did return did you? Welt had thought long and hard and was ready to apologise for his words yet you weren’t back yet? Did you get dinner then go to your room?

He went to check, your room was the exact same you left it.

Did…anyone see you come back? He questioned the members of the express. None have seen you.

Finally he grabbed his coat and cane and went to look for you. Went in the direction you went and searched. As he walked his foot stepped in something. Looking down confused, his eyes widened.

Golden Dust. Dust that he knew belonged to you. Dust that told him you were gone.

And he wasn’t able to tell you he was sorry.

Welt is silent as he walks back, he let the wind take your dust elsewhere. A place he hopes you’d be happy in.

He was quiet but able to tell the express what happened. Each of them holding a small funeral for you. They kept your room intact, filled with things you loved before locking it. That room will no longer be filled with warmth but will soon grow cold.

Welt drew a picture of you, keeping it safe with him. And despite how it may seem that eventually he was over your death. He could never be.

Not until he was able to apologise for the argument.

But that won’t happen anytime soon now will it?

This was actually rlly fun to write!! Especially in well-being haha. This was meant to be posted yesterday but something came up so here it is now haha.

Might've missed some warnings, so as always. Please inform me if I did.

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

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Once More | Jack Hughes

summary: when Quinn invites you back to the lake house it forces you to reconvene with your ex. What happens when Jack misses you just as much as you miss him?

trope: exes to lovers

request: yes/no

warnings: minimal swearing

word count: 1.98k

authors note: I have been in a Hughes boy mood since yesterday so it only felt right giving another one of the boys some attention. Also in honour of me getting my Hughes jersey today this was only fair. Is it wrong of me to say that I sorta hated this one, like soft Jack is not my strong suit. If you want to check out more of the 500 celly you can do so here!

Being back there you knew it was going to be tough on your heart.

Quinn had invited you to the family lake house for the summer. Everything told you that you should just say no, but when the boy reminded you of the promise you had given him prior to the start of your relationship with Jack you knew you had no choice but to go.

You had started being friends with Quinn during college and everyone thought that the two of you would become an item. It was hard not to think that when he spent every second away from the rink hanging out with you.

When he brought you back to the lake house that summer Ellen and Jim swore the announcement of your relationship would come in the upcoming days. Of course it never did and instead you caught the eye of the middle Hughes boy, Jack instead.

Quinn wasn’t stupid, he saw the way you looked at Jack and how Jack looked at you.

So it was no surprise that by December of your junior year Jack asked you out. At first you were hesitant because of what Quinn might think yet when Quinn’s only condition to the relationship was that you two would always remain friends, you couldn’t help but agree.

That was the start of easily the best three years of your life. The relationship was great, you graduated from Umich and found the job of your dreams in New Jersey so you even got the chance to move in with Jack.

There was no doubt about it, Jack adored you. The goal dedications, the mentions in interviews, the speeding back from the airport so he could see you before you fell asleep, hell even the sweaty hugs after home games when he’d pick you up and swing you around. All of it was there, and from the outside you two truly looked happy.

The argument had gone on for at least ten minutes by now “do you really want me to miss boys night?” Jack groaned as he crossed his arms.

Of course you wanted him to, you missed your boyfriend and it felt like it should have been your night “if you really want to go then go.” You hoped that your comment would knock some sense into him but instead it just went over his head.

He went to grab his shoes as you decided to drop the bombshell of news “I got a job in California,” you announced as you clenched your fists.

It made the hockey player stop in his tracks “I’m gonna take it.” Up until that moment you really didn’t know if you wanted to take the job, not whilst Jack was still at home.

The devils player swore the world stopped when you told him that “what about us?” Was all he could get out as his chest grew heavy.

You wanted to roll your eyes as you ran your fingers through your hair “you aren’t here half of the time so it’s not like you’re going to notice me being gone.” You pointed out as you shrugged reminding him of the fact that he was spending less of his time in the garden state at the apartment than he did before.

However your comment caused him to scoff “you want me to not work anymore?” He shot back as he pursed his lips int a fine line.

Tears began to well in your eyes “I want you to love me, but I don’t think you’re capable of that anymore.” Your voice and your heart broke as you watched him remain silent.

The sound of his phone pulled your attentions away from each other “Nico is downstairs,” Jack sighed as he read the message the captain sent him saying that he had arrived.

Jack reached for his hat “you leave right now Jack and this is the end of us.” You warned having enough of being second place to hockey in Jacks life.

“I’ll see you around y/n.”

That was four months ago and you had been a wreck. Sure the job in California was a good distraction. You made new friends, Trevor and Alex occasionally checked up on you as they’d visit your office hoping you were doing as poorly as Jack was. Sure it was fucked up but their best friend was a mess so part of them believed that they wouldn’t have to feel as bad for him if you were in the same shoes.

Trevor didn’t notice how well you hid it but when Alex showed up to your apartment with a box of pizza and your favourite tub of ice cream you just broke down in front of him.

You would have liked to say that pulling into the driveway of the lake house you were feeling okay, but in reality you were ready to drive away and pretend you missed your flight.

That was no longer an option though when you were caught “y/n!” Quinn called out as he had walked out to grab something from his car.

Your best friend felt his heart grow warm at the sight of you “can’t believe you’re here.” He mumbled as he pulled you into a hug “made a promise.” You sighed knowing that he was the only thing keeping you there.

It seemed that Quinn didn’t notice how uncomfortable you were when he grabbed your bag from the trunk “the boys are going to be so excited to see you.” Your timing was in your opinion terrible as the boys were all sat on the couch playing an intense game of Mario Kart.

Cole seemed to be winning as Alex threw a pillow in his direction to distract him “don’t tell me you’ve lost your touch Turcotte.” You smiled as the eldest of boys avoided the pillow.

Dating Jack often meant you were used a wall whenever the boys were being stupid, the amount of water balloons you had been hit by were countless.

Three of the four boys seemed excited to see you as they paused the game to come hug you. But Jack remained glued to the couch, mainly because he didn’t think he’d ever see you again. Each time he played in LA he’d call his brother begging for your address because Jack was desperate to see you.

Ever since he walked out of the apartment he regretted that decision, Jack wanted you in his life, more often than not he needed you in it.

An awkward smile was on your face as you locked eyes with him “hey,” your voice was soft when everyone looked between you two.

If you were told that Jack looked as drained as you felt you would have sworn that people were lying to you. But low and behold the dark circles that seemed etched onto his face reminded you of how he was during his rookie season. Sleep deprived and broken making you feel guilty about leaving him.

Yes it was the best thing for your relationship that seemingly lost its spark. Yet it hurt because you still loved Jack just as much as you did when you believed you were crazy about him.

Quinn didn’t let your eyes linger on his brother for long “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” He offered as he placed his hand on your shoulder.

It reminded you of the fact that this was your first time at the brothers lake house that you wouldn’t be sharing a room with Jack “okay,” you nodded as you forced a smile onto your lips.

The next few hours were awkward, even the way the setting sun painted the skys a range of oranges to pinks couldn’t shake your thoughts of disappointment. You never expected to be best friends with Jack after you broke up but what you didn’t think was that it would be so awkward between you two “just go talk to her!” Quinn groaned as he noticed Jack stood by the sliding glass door as he stared at you.

You were sat on the swinging bench that you built with Jim one weekend as you were desperate to have one and he had the tool knowledge “what do I even say to her?” Jack had gone through all the different scenarios in his head and each time he got to you nothing came out of his mouth.

The Canucks player sighed “maybe start with giving her a refill,” he proposed as he noticed that the glass bottle beside you was empty.

When Jack didn’t move Quinn knew he had to say something more “all she wanted was to know that you love her.” The older Hughes boy explained as you had let the reason why you were so hurt slip one night to Quinn.

That message seemed to knock some sense into Jack as he nodded “thanks bro,” he mumbled as he pulled his brother into a hug.

Quinn wanted to laugh at his brothers gesture “just no breaking her heart for a second time.” The Canucks player warned as he pointed his finger at the devils player who nodded.

As much as Quinn wanted to be nosy and watch the interaction he instead decided to leave in fear of you kissing the middle Hughes “can I sit here?” Jack asked as he held out one of the drinks in his hand to you.

It should have taken you longer but you were quick to nod “sure,” you shifted over to the side so he could sit with you.

This was the first time that Jack got to look at you properly, your hair had grown and you seemed to pick up a tan in California “how have you been?” You opened the top of the bottle before you took a sip from it.

It made Jacks heart break “I love you,” he blurted out taking you by surprise.

Not often did he leave you speechless but this was a time he needed you to remain quiet “I miss the sound of you singing along to your playlists when I come home from practice. Even how I find your hair in the weirdest places!” That comment made you laugh “but fuck I miss you so much that I don’t want to be home anymore.” Tears formed in his eyes as he scanned your face for any type of reaction.

You wanted to jump into his arms, truly you did “I can’t move back yet,” you confessed as you had another year on your contract before you could transfer.

Jacks hand reached out for yours “I know baby,” his thumb rubbed against your skin as he smiled enjoying the feeling of your skin on his.

The reservations still remained in your head “I’m fine being second to hockey but I can’t be third to your friends again.” You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you tried not to cry.

The devils player used his other hand to cup your cheek forcing you to look at him “the moment you aren’t number one in my life I’ll let Luke hit me.” Another laugh left your lips as Luke was always stronger than his brother, especially over recent years.

Now seemed like the right time to just throw caution to the wind for you “I love you too,” you smiled when the boy wrapped his arms around you pulling you onto his lap.

Jack continue to place kisses against your face causing you to throw your head back with giggles “Jacky!” You squealed finally getting a moment to breathe.

“You’re my world baby, and I won’t let you forget it.”

#ambers 500 celly #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #hockey imagine #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #amber writes fics

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wishluc · 1 year ago

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Fair Play

CW: Yandere character, jealousy, mentioned abuse of authority

PAIRING: Yandere! Neuvillette x GN! Reader

Sigh…I can’t get him out of my head

Whenever Neuvillette makes time to visit the Champion Duelists’ arena, it's only ever to see you fight.

He reasons with himself that it is only because of the fascinating way you weave your battles. He is far from the only spectator to these duels—not just anyone can earn a place among the Champions, after all—though he is the only one who remains silent when the crowd erupts in cheers and praise. He prefers to send his compliments privately, through a regrettably short conversation after the audience has cleared out. He thinks you might appreciate his thoughtfulness, because you always stand up a little straighter and smile a little wider when you see him approaching you, ever so bright despite the sweat painting your skin.

Anyone who has watched your duels would say the same, would sing the same praises that he calmly conveys to you—that your movements are graceful, your strokes swift and your stance sharp. That you are a marvel to behold. He observes how your eyes narrow as your sword slices the air, and he finds it a breathtaking sight. Your duels—your skillful attacks and quick steps are a form of art, one that you embody with every lunge, swing and pause, and one deserving of a revering audience.

—However, he does not tell you all this in detail, as Furina had advised him against it. He settles for simpler statements; “You are extremely talented. Thank you for using your abilities to uphold honour and justice,” among others, and he is rewarded with your eager gratitude, your smile and your joyous call of his name.

Regardless, he's not pleased with all the attention directed at you.

He could understand those who admired you and your abilities. It was only right that your hard work be recognised, even if the cheering crowd often took your attention away from him. But the way the Harbinger looked at you was with an unsettling kind of admiration, running too close to bloodlust and exhilaration, that made his fingers clench and his gaze harden unbeknownst to himself.

You respond with your usual grace, listening intently to his introduction (Neuvillette pretends it does mot bother him how you seem unbothered by his status as a Fatuus, and a Harbinger at that), and smiling at his compliments. He wonders if you’re pleased by his praise, if it’s his status that leaves you awestruck. The Harbingers must be good fighters, too, and Tartaglia had his fair share of scars to prove his prowess in battle.

Then, he asks you to duel him.

In itself, the request is not an unusual or unreasonable one. Duels could be requested (and at times commissioned), though Neuvillette was unsure if outlanders knew of this, or wished to try their hand at it.

But seeing that it was the harbinger—Tartaglia—who was asking, Neuvillette could not help but be suspicious of his intent. Even if it was only a fight he wished for, why did it have to be you, out of all the Champion Duellists? And why was he so...close? He had moved closer to you now, a lopsided grin on his face as he suggests taking him on as a partner sometime, assuring you that it would be fun. Neuvillette hopes you find his self assuredness just as irritating.

Instead, you humor his offer.

"A duel?" you look bemused, "And what for, Master Tartaglia? Your honor?"

Tartaglia laughs, his head thrown back, "Anything you want."

The teasing air of your words sends a chill down Neuvillete's spine. The skies darken as his heart thunders, misery gripping him painfully. He wonders if he ever sounded as natural with you. If his words had that same ease, or if he sounded as awkward as he felt around you. If you would ever think about treating him with such informality, like you would a friend.

The obvious fact that you did not acknowledge him as such only further glooms the sky and his heavy heart.

The Harbinger walks away, apparently done with accosting you, and you turn to catch sight of him in the distance. Your steps quicken and your smile widens as you approach Neuvillette, a spark in your eyes that he tells himself was missing before. You say his name in a delightful way, teeming with cheer, and he questions, not for the first time, if you could hear the awe in his when he had the chance to call your name. He wonders if you’d be upset by the possibility.

“You were wonderful, as always.” You glow at his words.

“But that person you were talking to,” He hesitates, “Was that a friend…?”

“No, just someone interested in a duel. Though he did seem a little intense.” You shake your head, “No, I suppose there are people like that, hungry for fighting. There is quite a thrill to it.”

“And will you?”

You shrug, contemplating your answer for a few more minutes.

“I don’t know. Somehow, I have a feeling that he’s going to find trouble soon.”

Neuvillette, in the back of his mind, recalls the sentence for treason, and conspiracy. He promptly shoves that thought to the corner, where tendrils of frustration and envy reach to carefully cocoon the unjust idea. He is the Chief Justice, and he has to remind himself of the fact—his feelings should not affect him.

But you are a Champion Duelist of the nation, one who upheld the justice he strived for in your actions. And you are at risk of being manipulated by this criminal. Would it not be cruel to allow you to stray any further?

“With an appetite like that, it’s likely. But I would advise against it for his sake.”

You chuckle at that, fixing your gloves, “It would be foolish of anyone to wreak havoc here and risk making an enemy of you, Monsieur Neuvillette.”

That was true—Wasn’t his duty to exact justice for your sake? And when you spoke of him with such admiration, how could he let you down?

For once, he thinks he may be able to put aside any concerns for justice. There would be no need to involve the public or consult the Oratrice. This was his personal sentencing, to satiate his own raging thoughts—judgement excecuted by his very hand.

#yandere genshin drabbles #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere neuvillette #neuvilette x you #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette genshin #yandere neuvillette x reader #asa.writes 🌀#genshin. 🌀#cw yandere #neuvillette. 🌀#drabble. 🌀

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msfantasy-comics · 2 months ago

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The Clumsy Flirt

Duke Thomas x Reader

Summary: A short story on Duke acting like a klutz in front of his crush.

Warning: you may experience second hand embarrassment

Duke Thomas had to be the sweetest human being on planet earth.

You lean on your elbows against the counter, continuing to set your sultry gaze on Duke as he approaches the quiet counter with such nervous energy. Seeing such a large handsome dude melting under your gaze elates your spirit. His eyes averting to the side as you remain silently smirking at his increasing fidgety self.

“G-good morning Y/n. Can I please have my usual?” Duke asks anxiously, as he tugs and scrunches at the corner of his jacket.

“Sure hun.” You answer with a devious grin.

Even at 5am Duke is looking unfairly handsome.

The expresso machine jolts to life, filling the empty cafe with sound. Your attention is now fully set on producing the silkiest flat white for your favourite customer.

Normally a guy like Duke would be far from your type. All of your previous romantic partners being flaky, non-comital bad boys with the rizz factor of a nuclear power-plant.

But there is just something endearing about Duke that makes your heart coo and sigh. His sweet like honey personality reinvigorates your angsty demeanour. He’s like a ball of bright light and positivity in a dark, decrepit city like Gotham. His attitude is certainly refreshing to say the least.

You clip the lid onto the cup and slide Dukes coffee towards him, but he continues to look at you dreamily.

“Has somethin’ caught your eye love?” You ask as if snapping Duke back to reality. He timidly rubs his hand on the back of his neck.

“Yes, I mean no- not like that. I mean, you are pretty but not like that.” His shoulders begin to tense up to his ears as he continues his anxious sputtering speech. “I mean, you are pretty! But what I meant was- yes?”

You begin to belt a hearty laughter. Your inner self just want to pick him up and put him in your pocket for safe-keeping. “I think I know what you mean love.” You tease. “You think I am pretty but not in the romantic way right?” You say, whipping the coffee dust off the counter, not looking at Duke.

You may recognise Duke has a crush on you, but you are certain it’s just attraction rather than a genuine romance. He’s just so sweet and kind, and you are just a hardened pessimist.

“No.” He says, which makes your head snap up at him. “I think you pretty, in all the ways.” For the first time ever, you were stumped on a reply. I mean, what do you say to that? Do you casually wave his comment off or do you press further. “I-I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t be flirting with you at your place of work.” He begins to sputter again making you smile once again.

“Thanks Duke, that’s really sweet of your to say.” Duke still looks sheepish, as if desperate to runaway from the conversation. But you’re desperate to keep him there, as your both finally breaking through the ice. “I think you’re really handsome too. In all of the ways.”

Duke stares at you in stunned silence. Before looking determined.

“Y/n, would you do me the honour, of going on a date with me?” He asked bravely, then suddenly looking increasingly embarrassed at his choice of wording.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You answer gently.

“Great!” He says with delight, slowly walking backwards. “I’ll DM you the details!” He says, bumping into the table, looking suddenly embarrassed again. “That was a yes right?” But you only smirked again with a nod.

“Great! Good! I mean, that’s good. Um, I’ll talk to you soon. H-have a good day!” Duke just about sprints from the cafe.

Gosh, maybe Duke really is your type with all that clumsy rizz.

#dc imagine #batboys x reader #dc x reader #batboys imagine #duke x reader #duke Thomas x reader #duke Thomas imagine #duke Thomas x you #signal imagine #signal x reader #fluff #cw clumsy #cw fluffy

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mumms-the-word · 6 months ago

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Illithid Souls - Part 3

The Case Studies: Karlach and Gale

Welcome to the third and final part of this wild deep dive rabbit hole monstrosity that is the three-part series about illithid souls and whether mind flayers, or specifically you as a mind flayer, have a soul.

If you read Part 1 and Part 2, then you know that yes, illithids have souls, they're just different souls that the gods don't recognize as souls because they're non-apostolic, or incapable of divine worship (as opposed to being apostolic like most humanoid souls). You now also know that you turning into a mind flayer is a bit of a special case because of the Netherese magic in the tadpoles, and this might be why you retain more of your soul than normal mind flayers would.

Also, a quick reminder of the two theories we're working with here: Theory 1 is that when someone becomes a mind flayer they essentially just die and their (apostolic) soul moves on to the Fugue Plane and the mind flayer body just gets a new illithid soul from somewhere. Theory 2 is that when someone becomes a mind flayer their soul is transformed and altered into an illithid soul, which remains tethered to the mind flayer body. BG3 seems to operate more on the Theory 2 side of things, but as we'll see with Karlach and Gale, it's more complicated than you think.

So let's deep dive, shall we?

The Case of Karlach

I'm going to be candid here and say that the mind flayer ending for Karlach makes me really sad, even knowing that there's a very high chance that her soul is mostly intact and she is mostly still Karlach. But there's no denying she's at least a little different, though the game tries to comfort us otherwise after she transforms.

Narrator: *She is transformed. Her body is no longer hers, but her eyes, her heart - she is still Karlach, for now. Only - there's a hunger in her eyes that wasn't there before.*

That "for now" is rather ominous, isn't it? But we have enough evidence from Tav/Durge/other Origins and Orpheus to suggest that the likelihood of her retaining her memories and her personality is very high. In fact, when you talk to her during the epilogue, she does seem mostly the same, though her language has mellowed out to a more formal tone and she speaks less colloquially (and swears less and less).

If you talk to her immediately after she transforms, she marvels that she's still "herself" but also "more," which again reinforces that we all get to be special mind flayers who don't completely lose our souls. But I think there are some interesting lines in this dialogue:

Karlach: This is wild. I'm myself but... but more. Player: I don't like the sound of that. Karlach: Don't worry, soldier. It's still your old pal under all this purple. But suddenly 'I' am different than I ever knew. And my engine, it's... it's... silent. No heat. No gears. Still there, but no longer threatening to explode. Soldier... Player: I guess turning into an illithid has its perks. Karlach: Here I thought I was making a sacrifice. Thank the gods I'm a noble fuck! Shit. I'm gonna be all right. I get to be alive. I get to stay. As a hideous monster, sure. But one that can feel. Think. Live. But I'm still myself. And I know what our mission is. I'm glad I get to the do the honours.

Karlach reiterates over and over that she's still herself, but you can literally hear the change in her voice. Where normally her tone and volume would be boisterous, loud, and energetic, she's now calm and mellow, even when she's swearing. Her tone here is more one of wonder. It isn't just the internal and external fires that have calmed down, her overall demeanor seems "cooler" too.

Also, in her romance ending just before the epilogue, where you're both in the Elfsong Tavern room, you can mention that she does seem a little altered.

Player: I still love you, Karlach. I still want to be with you. Karlach: I love you too. Before, that love was an irrepressible inferno. Now it is a calm, cool object of beauty. Player: I can see you're still yourself, but there's something else in there too. An illithid calm. Karlach: Maybe you're right. I feel less... changeable. Less afraid. I feel ready for whatever is to come.

It doesn't tell us much, but it does reinforce that when we or any of our companions turn into a mind flayer, we likely retain a lot of our former personality, but in a much more calm, even-keeled kind of way. Again going back to the idea that our soul is still there, still mostly the same, but has been made a bit more illithid.

What is more interesting for Karlach, specifically, is her discussion of her diet as a mind flayer. Remember what souls are allegedly made up of? Intelligence, personality, and what else?

Memories.

Karlach: For example, my favourite food used to be mutton chops. Do you know what it is now? Brains, soldier. Brains. Player: Comes with the illithid territory, I suppose. Karlach: True. But I've found ways to maintain my values while respecting that which I am - that which made it possible for me to live. I've made arrangements with a healer in the city. When a patient is beyond saving, but still able to speak for themselves, they're offered a choice. They can go as nature intends to take them. Or, when they're ready - when their goodbyes have been said, their affairs settled, and all that awaits them is pain - I relieve them. When I consume their brains, I am nourished by much more than the physical nutrition. Their memories - from birth to death - become part of me. I've lived hundreds of childhoods, first loves, marriages, feuds and friendships. I remember them all. And in this way, we all live on. Together.

There's so much to unpack here. One, she still remembers her values, even six months later, but is trying to negotiate her former humanoid values (and personality, I imagine) with her needs as a mind flayer. That seems very Karlach, through and through.

But then, when she consumes these dying patients' brains, she absorbs and retains their memories. I imagine their souls still go on to the Fugue Plane, because I highly doubt that mind flayers also consume souls when they eat brains, but it still leaves me with questions. Karlach isn't part of a hivemind, which normally circulates memories between each other, but she's becoming a similar kind of receptacle for memories, and only she is the one that contains them, rather than an entire hivemind.

I have to wonder how much something like constantly consuming and remembering memories that are not your own affects you as a person/creature. Does that eventually lead to a loss of self, as you begin to "live" multiple different lives? Or does it all count as mere knowledge?

In some ways this would put her in competition with any elder brains still out there, but she's also not collecting knowledge for the sake of knowledge. She's collecting memories and living them out in her mind, which is a certain kind of tragedy. She's literally living vicariously through these people because her mind flayer body is too scary to go out and about in, and she's making up for a decade of life she didn't get to live. She's alive, but she's not...living if that makes sense. And again...how long before all these memories start to change who she is?

(An aside. I really don’t think her eating brains and collecting memories keeps someone’s soul from moving on. If you use the spell Speak with Dead, you don’t call back an entire soul, but the corpse still has access to its memories. I think in this case, even though memories make up part of a soul, Karlach consuming brains and collecting memories is more like her downloading a copy of the memories for herself. The dead person likely still takes their own memories with them to the Fugue Plane, where they will be judged by Kelemvor or collected by their favorite deity. She’s just copy/pasting data, not transferring everything from one hard drive to another, if that analogy makes sense.)

This arrangement where Karlach consumes the brains of dying patients is expanded or clarified a bit if you're romancing her during the epilogue, and also includes a reference to souls as well.

Karlach: I can’t wait to say hello, but to be honest, I’m keen to visit the doctor before it gets too late. He said there’s a potential in his infirmary. A very old woman recently diagnosed with a wasting sickness. She seemed interested in what I have to offer. I’ll want to have a good long talk with her before we make an arrangement. Though if I’m being very selfish, I hope she’ll say yes. I’m absolutely famished - and think of all those memories. Player: Glad to hear. I was worried you were getting hungry. Karlach: I don’t hide it well, do I? Some things don’t change, even when everything else does. It’s funny. I’m hungry in my body, but in my soul too. That woman has lived a long life - births, deaths, love, misfortune. And if she agrees, I’ll be able to give her a dignified end, and remember it all in her honour.

Or if you go with a different option:

Player: I'm still not sure how I feel about this arrangement. Are you sure it's ethical to feed on the dying? Karlach: I'm sure of very little these days. But at least this way, I can live. And those who offer themselves to me can live on too. Births, first loves, marriages, losses - I remember them all and always will. Each memory I've consumed is of value.

It's just so interesting to me. One, her remark that she's eager to say hello but slightly more interested in chatting to a doctor about her next meal suggests that some elements of becoming a mind flayer are much harder to ignore. I imagine if she's hungry, she feels less like Karlach. (And I have thoughts, for another post, about whether she becomes "too fixated" on living when she's a mind flayer, given the cost of what it means to stay alive as a mind flayer.)

But she also says she's hungry in her soul. Her soul seems deeply interested in these memories, and I wonder if that's because memories are (or could be) part of souls themselves. Maybe the remark isn't really that deep, but she specifically connects the hunger of her soul to all the memories a long-lived woman will have. It's almost as if these memories nurture her soul, but it's unclear whether that is because it's somehow healing to see and "experience" life in ways she can't now that she's a mind flayer, or if it's because the memories have some kind of tangible effect on her soul/souls in general.

I suppose we won't know for sure. What we do know from Karlach's case, however, is that a great deal of the original soul (personality, memories, etc) seems to stick around even six months later, though there are noticeable changes in personality, such as an overall calm demeanor. There are also hints that consuming brains could lead to further changes down the road, but there's nothing really concrete. Just hints.

In the end, Karlach is still Karlach, and her soul still has plenty of elements of the original Karlach, even six months later. This is a good sign, but we can't completely ignore that her new body/mind as a mind flayer will necessarily mean some things have permanently changed. Whether you judge those changes as good or bad is up to you.

With that said, let's move on to the final and most mind-boggling case.

The Case of Gale

If you play a companion as an Origin run, the mind flayer decision typically works out the same way as Tav...unless you're playing as Gale. Gale gets some extra options at the end of the game.

This is mostly because Gale has perhaps the most apostolic soul that hangs in the balance, second only to Shadowheart, and her soul pendulum swings between Selûne and Shar. Gale, however, seems to be walking on a knife's edge trying to retain or earn back entry into Elysium, Mystra's domain in the Outer Planes. He's allegedly already been there, though not as a dead soul, so he knows what's at stake if his soul suddenly becomes non-apostolic or disappears.

In other words, Gale has a formerly Faithful apostolic soul, but he spends much of the game probably worried his soul will be judged as False when he dies (since he lost Mystra's favor) until Mystra offers her brand of forgiveness, which is essentially "if you sacrifice your own life, I'll let you into Elyisum again." It's a guarantee that he ends up in the afterlife he wants to be in. That's what Mystra's forgiveness really boils down to.

Now, this is a man who does not want to sacrifice his soul, and also (Netherese orb aside) does not want to die if his soul is going to be judged as False by Kelemvor rather than welcomed into Elysium as a Faithful soul. We know that Gale finds the Fugue Plane exceedingly depressing, so I can't imagine he has any desire to wander around it for any stretch of time, even if Mystra does eventually deign to invite him into Elysium. I'm sure the thought of becoming part of the Wall of the Faithless might as well be hell to him.

Gale: It’s a relief to be back in beautiful Faerûn. The dreariness of the Fugue Plane oppresses one’s soul so very quickly.

[mumm's note: yes my man died in service of a Tactician battle against Grym, but he got better]

It's a little surprising to see how adamantly Gale would prefer to choose the Netherese orb over letting himself or anyone he cares for become illithid. Look at some of what he says when he tries to offer the orb as an option for the final battle:

Gale: An easy proposition for the Emperor to make - 'become a mind flayer' - it has no soul to sacrifice. If it did - perhaps it would understand the weight of what it's asking of us. And why we might seek an alternative.

I couldn't get this next dialogue to trigger in my game, but in the same conversation as above you might potentially get the option to remind him about Mystra's offer to cure his orb condition, and even then he reminds you of the stakes that come with becoming a mind flayer.

Player: Mystra will cure you if we bring her the Crown of Karsus. You don't need to do this. Gale: To cure me of the orb, yes. But what of the guilt of allowing one of my friends to sacrifice their very soul and become illithid?

Now keep in mind, up to this point no one has shown any evidence that turning into a mind flayer won't actually mean the total destruction of one's soul. Up until now, the only evidence anyone has of an original soul remaining intact inside a mind flayer body is the Emperor (we have no frame of reference for who Omeluum was before he was a mind flayer), and most of the companions do not trust the Emperor one bit. So Gale genuinely thinks that becoming a mind flayer means your soul is either destroyed or changed so much that it's no longer you.

I mean, think about it. He's half expecting you to take the tadpole the Emperor offers and literally cease to exist. He's expecting to fight alongside a mind flayer who has, at best, your name and a few scraps of your memory, and at worst, no shred of you at all. Because again, up until this point in the game, none of them realize that they could become a special mind flayer who does actually retain most (if not all) of their soul, including their personality and memories.

Gale literally thinks that blowing up and going to the Fugue Plane is better than you or any companion becoming a mind flayer.

But that's in a companion run. Obviously, if you play him as an Origin, you can have him turn into a mind flayer as a different kind of ultimate sacrifice. The decision plays out the same as a Tav/Durge run or any other Origin run. But after the game ends, Gale gets unique dialogue if he (1) sacrifices himself or (2) does not sacrifice himself and goes to meet Mystra with the Crown in hand.

Any run of his sacrifice (aka, using the orb, regardless of whether or not he is illithid) results in Withers finding him in the Fugue Plane for a brief conversation. This conversation isn't much different if Gale is a mind flayer when he uses the orb, since all it does is add an extra option to their conversation that references being illithid ("One illithid for the whole of Faerûn seems like a fair trade to me," which replaces the option "One wizard for the whole of Faerûn...etc").

(An aside, I don't have an Origin Gale run so I can't test this, but I think if he ends his life on the docks as a mind flayer, the way Tav/Durge can with a knife got the stomach, then he just gets the usual Tav/Durge conversation with Withers about how his form has "something of the spirit" about him. See Part 2 if you're curious about that conversation.)

What this conversation with Withers reveals is how much control Mystra seems to have over his soul, especially if/when he's a mind flayer. If Gale decides to sacrifice himself using the Netherese Orb, Withers remarks about how surprising it is that Mystra hasn’t picked him up yet.

Withers: Who flickers there ‘twixt the shadows? Gale, who didst surrender his very self for the salvation of Faerûn. I feared I might not find thee here - that Mystra would have already plucked thy thread from the tapestry of fate. But she may wait a while yet.

It’s a little unclear if Withers uses “plucked thy thread from the tapestry of fate” to mean Gale gets to go to Elysium or something else, and it’s equally unclear whether Mystra waiting is a sign of displeasure or a sign that she is interested in sending Gale back to the Material Plane. She is capable of doing that, after all, and has frequently resurrected her Chosens, like Elminster, if it suits her.

But I highlight this conversation to show that you can get it as a mind flayer, and (if you are a mind flayer during this scene) that Mystra waiting isn't because he's a mind flayer and she can't find his soul. She waits for a minute regardless of whether he's illithid or not. But Withers is certain Mystra will be able to find Gale's soul, because he was able to find Gale's soul and recognize it as Gale.

So, not to harp on this again and again, but it's proof that turning into a mind flayer didn't destroy Gale's soul. It's still Gale's soul, even in the Fugue Plane, even if he's mind-flayer-shaped, and that soul is still capable of journeying to Elysium, should Mystra bother to find it wandering the Fugue Plane (or wherever he is).

But things are a little different if Gale decides to become a mind flayer and then goes to visit Mystra with the Crown of Karsus in hand. Keep in mind, Origin!Gale always has the option to face off against Mystra after the defeat of the Netherbrain, and this face-off is where he decides to hand over the Crown, become the god of ambition, or straight up try to fight Mystra.

However! If Gale is a mind flayer, he gets a secret fourth option.

If Gale goes to meet Mystra as an illithid with the Crown of Karsus and then gives up the Crown to her, Mystra offers to take Gale to Elysium with her. More than that, she offers to literally restore his humanity and cure him of illithidness.

Sort of.

Mystra: So, Gale of Waterdeep, you have become the inheritor of Karsus’ powers at last. What do you intend to do with them? Gale: I came to surrender them. The Crown, the Karsite Weave - take it all. Mystra: This offering cost you greatly. There is no hope in life as an illithid, devoid of soul and conscience. It is within my power to restore your soul, and your humanity, if you are willing to leave the mortal realms behind. Return with me, to Elysium.

No one else is offering this kind of deal to an Origin-turned-mind-flayer. Selûne and Shar don’t care if Shadowheart turns illithid, and Withers isn’t exactly offering to restore souls and humanity (or…mortalness?) to everyone else. This is a signifier of the sheer amount of power Mystra has, yes, but this also hints at some other things.

One, despite evidence of the contrary, Mystra is adamant that Gale-as-illithid is or would be “devoid of soul and conscience,” even though we know that that likely isn’t true (just see Karlach, Tav/Durge, etc). Perhaps Mystra is unaware that Gale is a Special Mind Flayer (seems unlikely), or perhaps she’s simply trying to convince Gale to come with her. After all, what she’s offering is still a kind of reward.

Then again, maybe Gale and/or Mystra fear the long-term effects of illithidness. Maybe over time he would become less and less like Gale, perhaps due to consuming memories, or other factors that come with being a mind flayer. Still, though, saying that his life would be "devoid of soul and conscience" seems like a massive stretch on Mystra's part.

But anyway, the reward for him turning into a mind flayer and giving her the Crown is a restoration of his humanity...but only in death.

Mystra: Return with me, to Elysium. Devnote: respectful - Gale sacrificed his humanity to achieve what she asked. If he’s willing to die on the mortal planes, she will restore his soul and body but in the heavens.

Now before I get to what happens if Gale agrees to this reward, I want to point out that Mystra herself sort of acknowledges that Gale isn't exactly devoid of soul and conscience if he refuses her offer. Here are some of the ways Gale can turn her down, with her answer to each option being the same:

Gale: [Option 1] Thank you, but no. I have someone waiting for me. Gale: [Option 2] Perhaps one day, but for now there is more I need to accomplish. Gale: [Option 3] Being an illithid has its advantages. I'm content as I am. Mystra: Then you are free to go with both my thanks and my promise - henceforth, your prayers will always be answered.

The whole idea of an apostolic soul is that it means the person is capable of worshipping a divine being, and this worship ncludes prayers. She might have said that him being illithid would mean he would be devoid of soul and conscience, but in nearly the same breath she promises to answer all his prayers. So she recognizes something of a soul within him. So why say he would be devoid of soul?

Of course, things get weird if Gale accepts her offer to be restored and go to Elyisum. If Gale agrees, then she fulfills her promise and even restores his place as one of her Chosen.

Gale: I crave nothing more. Take me to Elysium. Mystra: So be it. Gale of Waterdeep, Chosen of Mystra. Cinematic Tag: Mystra transforms Mindflayer Gale back to his human form (hollow) and grabs Gale’s hand. They return to Elysium.

This is wild to me. You see, originally when I started this project I thought I was going to be writing posts about how interesting it is that when you become a mind flayer, your soul is probably hanging out in the Fugue Plane or something, and eventually I’d suggest that Mystra is able to restore Gale’s soul to him because it’s already gone to her domain or she knows how to find it because he used to be so faithful to her. But none of that works now.

Because now I’m convinced that the Netherese tadpole changes everyone into a Special Mind Flayer whose soul is still present in their mind flayer bodies, just altered or transformed. So what’s up with this stuff from Mystra? She recognizes Gale as Gale even when he's a mind flayer and promises to answer his prayers, so clearly there's some kind of apostolic soul thing going on here. So why does she offer to "restore his soul," and also, why only in death?

She does say that she will restore Gale’s humanity, so now I assume that somehow her powers allow her to un-alter Gale’s soul so that it isn’t so illithid anymore. My idea is that she’s essentially restoring his soul to its former state and not, as we might otherwise infer, literally giving him his soul back, as if it were separate from his body. Gale’s soul is still in his mind flayer body, if all the rest of the evidence holds any water, so Mystra must have merely changed it back to the way it was.

quick picture break, this is from Northalix's video, linked below

Which makes me wonder, can a completely original, apostolic-type soul exist in an illithid body? Or does the body dictate that the soul must be somewhat illithid in order to be compatible?

Because the thing is, this deal comes with an ultimatum. She’s not going to let him go back to the mortal realms after she’s restored his soul. She probably could—she’s probably capable of doing that, if only by giving him a completely new body (she's done that before with Elminster). But she doesn’t. The cure comes with a cost. He only gets to be human again if he agrees to die completely and join her in Elysium. There is no undoing the illithid sacrifice, which seems more like a game limitation than a Mystra limitation (although we can certainly brainstorm reasons why Mystra would be so petty as to basically say "I can make you human again but only if you die completely.")

I want to point out that Mystra doesn't offer to let Gale come back to Elysium as a dead guy if he's not a mind flayer. Like, we don't get the sparkly ascension scene if he blows up with the Netherese orb, we get the Withers visit in the Fugue Plane. This Elysium offer is an illithid-only option. If he's not a mind flayer and he returns the Crown, she cures him of the Netherese Orb and sends him back. There's no option to join her in Elysium. Why is this an illithid-only option?

Also, just...I need you to watch the scene.

youtube

There's a lot that bothers me about this. One, the gestures she makes are the exact gestures God!Gale makes when he ascends Tav/Durge if they romanced him and agreed to become a god with him. Do with that what you will. But two...it just gives me the ick. This is a different kind of ascension for Gale. It's a restoration of his place in Elysium, but it ultimately means his premature death. If this is the route you take as him...it's hardly better than him sacrificing himself using the Netherese Orb without becoming a mind flayer. Only this time, we get to see the scene where he goes to Elysium, I guess.

It also massively complicates the whole idea that everyone gets to be a special mind flayer with a mostly-intact, mostly-apostolic soul. If the soul didn't change, why does Mystra need to "restore" it? And if it did change, why is Mystra the only one capable of un-changing it back to its original form (is it because he’s her Chosen and is/was so faithful)?And if such a thing is possible, why offer it and then say "but you're dead now"?

It seems as though her "fixing" Gale's soul was really just her...I don't know, separating it from his physical mind flayer body so the illithid anatomy wouldn't mess with it as much, and then dusting off his soul, which is now bodyless, and taking it with her to Elysium. I'm not saying that's what she did, but that's the weird vibes I get from this interaction. Like, there seems to be some kind of implication that you can't have a fully humanoid, apostolic soul housed within an illithid body. The soul has to be altered somehow to work with the illithid body.

So why not just give him a new body, Mystra??? Fix is soul and give him a new body! You’re absolutely capable of that!

I have so many questions.

Of course, keep in mind that Gale can reject her, obviously, and return to the mortal realms as a mind flayer. She does acknowledge that he has at least something of a soul that can pray to her so...I mean, there's that.

Anyways, what have we learned?

The Summary

With Karlach, we see that being a mind flayer does necessarily change parts of a person's personality (which, again, is part of their soul). Usually this results in a person seeming calmer, more mellow, less emotional than they normally would have been, but it does seem that for Tav/Durge, the companions, and Orpheus that turning into a mind flayer doesn't completely destroy their soul. It just seems to alter it a bit. In my opinion, the soul just becomes a tiny bit more illithid. Karlach’s case does leave us with questions about how “good” consuming and retaining so many memories might be in the long run, but as of six months post-ceremorphosis, she seems fine.

From Gale, we learn that apparently it's possible to restore or un-alter a partly-illithid soul so that it goes back to normal, but this power is extremely rare and likely relegated to the gods alone (or a particularly powerful Wish spell). We're also reminded that keeping recognizable parts of one's soul, like the personality and memories, is a huge surprise, because that's not how normal mind flayers work. We know this from Orpheus, but Gale just kinda reinforced it.

I guess we also learned that Mystra is a massive—but I should keep this civil. We all know what Mystra is.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that she's unwilling to accept Gale into her domain while he is still a mind flayer, even though his soul obviously would fit the bill based on what a soul is/does for the gods. He has a viable apostolic soul, it’s just mind-flayer-shaped!I'm sure Mystra thinks she's being magnanimous by offering him eternity as a human in Elysium, but I think it ultimately just shows how shallow she can be. Gale only gets to come back if he’s not mind flayer shaped.

And I think, deep down, Gale has always suspected that would be the case.

And on that familiar note, my friends, thank you for joining me on this excessively long deep dive into mind flayer souls and things we can learn from the game and the lore.

~*~*~

If you made it to the end, congrats! More gold stars for you!

✨⭐️🌟⭐️✨⭐️🌟⭐️✨⭐️🌟⭐️✨

If you read through all three parts and also made it to the end of this one, you are the real MVP and I wish I had stickers or achievements to give you so you can be like "I survived another three-part deep dive from mumm." But I don't even have a lousy T-Shirt to offer you.

You can have this random picture instead though :> it's my Tav Dani looking very unimpressed by the Emperor's offer of sexy times (sorry not sorry Empy, she's got a man and his name is Gale and she prefers him and all her friends to be tentacle-free)

Enjoy the lore and remember that it's all up to you to decide what you want to keep or reject! I'm just showing you what's out there!

Tags for those who wanted an update! @galesdevoteewife @stuffforthestash

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 meta #bg3 lore #bg3 deep dive #bg3 discourse #gale #gale dekarios #karlach #mind flayer #IT'S DONE #this is the wildest one I think and the one I wanted to write the most so #yay #why do I DO THIS to myself omg

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