#I think he's so darling in the Prime Universe

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 18 "Universe"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: This chapter is dedicated to the quantum spirits.

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her AFAB FMC, explicit sexual content, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, plans within plans, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced abuse, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/ Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, murder, teaching the universe about feminism, female rage, Frank Herbert would frown, No actually he would kneel in front of me, putting the science and the porn in sci-fi, angst with a happy ending

WORD COUNT: 5k

A/N: It's a Christmas miracle! 🎄 The final chapter is ready just in time. And, my God, I'm so emotional about it 😭 It hurts to let it go.

After finishing this chapter, you might want to re-read a certain part of a certain other chapter, because of reasons 🤭

If there ever pops up a 19th "chapter", don't be surprised! If it happens, it's going to be a bit of art for this fic 💖💖💖

My biggest thank you goes to @/ClockworkSiren, once again, for beta reading this whole thing and letting me borrow our lovely babies Alyth and Michael and turn them into Lilia and Mikhail ❤️😭

Reposted from my Ao3💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter

"So, this is it?" She gazes out the window, engines rumbling under their seats. "The Maldives of Giedi Prime?"

"What was that, darling?" Feyd's hand is heavy on her knee, the coolness of his wedding band seeping pleasantly through her gown. His bald head thuds softly against the back panel as he follows her gaze.

The black, oily waves of the svart valta lick at the pale coast of the peninsula below. White sand stretches between tall, chalky cliffs that stand out of the landscape like the unearthed bones of an ancient beast. According to her interface, they're still 150 meters above the ground.

"The Maldives," the relic mutters pensively. "They were an archipelago on Earth, a popular honeymoon destination. Never been there. They were flooded around the time I was born."

"Honeymoon," Feyd repeats the foreign word that lacks a proper translation in Galach, but with the individual words grafted together, it sounds cute. He likes it. "M'gonna drink your honey as soon as we touch down. Until the moon comes out?"

His wife snickers warmly and her breath fogs up the window. Feyd's hand slides to the inside of her thigh, squeezing the soft flesh above her knee.

"Not if I drink yours first," she teases, though her musing gaze remains on the lurid landscape below, abyssal wave hungrily trying to scorch the peninsula of Telkel. From the tasu aurinkosesti, they had flown east to reach one of the most remote Harkonnen settlements on Giedi Prime. Looking at the undulating mass of radiation, she wonders: "What color do you think it'd have under a yellow sun?"

"Don't know," Feyd hums. "You're the scientist. Green, maybe? Or brown."

He had explained to her earlier that the settlers had tried to reintroduce fish to the sea here in Telkel. The giant, corroding basins along the shore remain, but their filter systems have been shut off for decades. To cultivate fish that can not only survive but thrive in the heavily polluted waters would take some serious scientific effort that the late Baron Harkonnen didn't think promising enough to chip his budget for.

"We could have gone to Lankiveil," his woman briefly pouts, though her eyes betray her fascination as the village below increases in size. "I would die to dip my toes into an ocean without having them singed off. Or for some fresh air and a walk among pines. I never had much of that on Earth either."

Feyd hums, contorting his torso to press his cheek against hers as they both gaze out of the same window. Long, pale fingers play along her ribs. "The waters on Lankiveil would freeze your toes off, but… We'll go there," he promises with a low whisper. "Or any other planet you want. The universe is practically ours now." 

Practically. Perhaps after a week of writhing on top of each other in damp sheets, their thirst for revenge will return.

The conversation between Feyd and his brother after the ceremony had been brief, but Glossu had formally invited the both of them to Lankiveil, the snowy, tranquil home of Feyd's early childhood and a place full of emotional debris. But he would rather not elbow his way through the wreckage on their honeymoon.

The aircraft touches down on a bleak landing pad between low buildings that look like matchboxes among the unforgiving landscape. A small committee of a dozen Telkelis awaits the daunting visitors from Barony, their massive aircraft ink-black and shiny, factory new, among the dusty grey architecture and pale hills. The sharp wind of rotor blades makes the Telkelis' drab trousers whip around their legs.

Lilia quickly maneuvers to the other side of the passengers' cabin after prying the hem of her Lady's travel mantle out of Glugo's many finger-toes. The garment has the same functionality as her wedding down, but simpler and more practical.

"You'll get your plushies back when we're inside," the handmaid tries to soothe the wistfully glugging creature. "They're in the suitcase— Oh! Not that one."

But Glugo has already wrapped four out of eight hand-feet around the handle of Mikhail's personal suitcase that the guard had refused to deposit in the cargo department because old habits die hard. As a former resident of the slums of Ganpolis, he prefers to have his belongings where he can see them.

Feyd-Rautha clicks his tongue while Lilia helps his wife into the shiny mantle and gloves, concealing her from head to toes.

Outside, scalding wind carries the sound of distant, crashing waves and the scent of bitter salt. The relic has to hold onto her husband's arm as she sways on the iron footsteps of the aircraft. Behind them, guards spill out of the second cabin, half of them heading straight to the cargo compartment where her cryo pod is stored. She is quite like Mikhail in that regard. 

The committee bravely keeps a stoic face and  doesn't flinch at the disturbingly cute sight of an eight-arm-legged creature toiling away with a too heavy suitcase and refusing a desperate guard's help.

Leaning towards his wife, Mikhail whispers: "My chair's inside that thing!"

Feyd's nostrils flare as he struts towards the gathered dozen with heavy, leisured steps, clutching the hand of his wife. His other hand lifts to shield himself against the glaring sun and the tip of his thumb subconsciously slides against his ear where an inconspicuous black button pierces his antihelix. To the unsuspecting eye, it looks not too different from a regular transponder with an unconventional placement, but what it really contains is a tiny loudspeaker and a chip with just enough memory to run the script that detects the voice.

"Welcome to Telkel, my Lord, my Lady." The committee bends their knees and salutes. The clumsy tension in their limbs gives away that they didn't have to salute to authority often in their lives out here in the godforsaken wilderness.

"Thank you for having us."

If it weren't the young Baron's very own raspy drawl speaking, the Mayor of Telkel would have never believed that 'thank you' would be the first words coming out of Feyd's mouth. The Mayor's daughter had cried in the morning, certain that Feyd-Rautha would behead her father for something as mundane as the driveway to the villa being too crooked or the bad condition of the weather-beaten landing pad.

"It's an honor. The entire village is ecstatic, my Lord." Still hunkering down on one knee, the man's smooth brows suddenly shoot up in horror. "Congratulations!" He blurts. "On your marriage!" He'd meant to say this in the very beginning. Helplessly, his pale eyes snap from Baron to Baroness.

"Thank you," the Lady speaks from behind the curious veil and her voice sounds kind and human. "Why don't you stand up. Don't hurt your knees."

Feyd-Rautha casts a threatening glance at Mikhail, so the guard doesn't blurt out that 'the Lady could print y'all some chairs.'

The Mayor and his people shuffle, straightening their bodies into the sharp wind.

"Oh, my Lady, our knees and backs are used to it." The older man points a scarred thumb behind his shoulder, where the inkvine plantations are beyond the village border. This is how Telkel gets by now, hovering over the maws of poverty at the whims of Giedi Prime's rocky soil and erratic volcanoes.

The Lady lets out a sympathetic sound and the Mayor can't help himself. The next words just come tumbling out. "It'd be an honor to show you around the plantations and the old basins, if you'd like. Never seen them in action, but my father did. For a year or so, they had a relatively stable population of Tilapia in there."

"I'd love to see them. Actually, if I could have some water samples, maybe I could—"

"Not now, sweetling," Feyd's grating voice chastises and he squeezes his wife's gloved hand, compressing her wedding ring between her fingers. "The villa is prepared?"

"Yes, my Lord. The maids and workers you sent have been very thorough. Radiation-proof window panes, fresh paint. Even got some imported plants. My daughter picked them." The renovated villa is now considerably more homely than the Mayor's own residence. "Shall we head there?"

Despite its forlorn ugliness, the relic finds Telkel and its grey, flat buildings among chalky hills oddly charming. Even if she'll be covered from crown to toe in her lead-painted mantle, she swears she will go to the beach — if Feyd lets her out of the bedroom — and feel the sand underfoot, hear the massive waves trying to swallow the shore. Compared to Barony and the roiling industrial trenches that stretch across most of the northern hemisphere, this is a natural paradise.

"Guess we won't be seeing ya for a while, eh?" Mikhail leers, freshly painted teeth brilliant in the glaring sun as he leans lopsidedly against the grey pillar of the villa's roofed porch. Lilia harshly pinches his side, between the plates of his armor, but the apples of her cheeks round up with laughter. Sometimes it still scares her how openly her husband jests with Feyd-Rautha, a man who used to be known first and foremost for his quick blades and unstable outbursts.

The welcome committee has left them ten minutes ago and the guards currently come shuffling out of the building, having deposited the Baroness' priceless sarcophagus in the room adjacent to their honeymoon suite.

"You may join us for meals," Feyd concedes, grinning.

"Meals as in…?" Mikhail cocks a hairless brow.

"Oh, absolutely not!" The relic gasps and her guard breaks into raspy laughter, lungs expanding in crunchy hops.

"Dun' worry. I wouldn't share my woman anyways. Not even with you, m'Lord. Aight then, see ya in a week, eh?"

Wiry arms curl around Lilia's thighs and the scrawny guard hauls his wife quite easily over his shoulder. She calls him a prat between giggles, and a mongrel, but Mikhail already makes a sprinting beeline for Glugo who still stubbornly drags his suitcase down the freshly paved pathway to the guest house.

"They'll be fine," Feyd-Rautha soothes his wife's veiled, lingering glance. "Look at me." His gravelly timbre demands for her undivided attention and her eyes follow his magnetic pull.

Pale fingers sprawl across her sternum, urging her backwards. Even through the lead-painted layers, she feels his possessive touch singe her skin and bones. Unwittingly, her feet pass the threshold of their holiday abode and the door closes at her husband's back.

Inside, silence embraces them. This place is only for them, where they need to be nothing but lovers. Color provided by golden glow globes fades into Feyd's pallor, the softest notes of pink on cheeks and lips, and blue framed by dark blonde lashes. 

The building is brutalist in its arches and pillars, but less suffocating than the palace. The welcoming range of non-colors and sharp angles creates actual depth and contrast, not like the bulbous pyramid interior that reminds of  a termite burrow, or the innards of a giant insect. Bright daylight streams through the thick windows, fading into glowglobe haze.

Something about this place evokes… Nostalgia.

"You're blushing, husband," she teases, though her hammering heart under his palm betrays her own butterflies.

"Off with that thing." Feyd-Rautha has already mapped out the buckles that keep her mantle fastened and strips it off her frame quicker than she would have ever managed. Her gloves land on the same shiny pile and she hooks her bare fingers into Feyd's belt loops, turning her husband around his tall axis to walk him up the curved stairs. Those pretty eyes could eat her alive, oozing lust like blue honey.

Neither of them take note of the gentle, green fern that line the staircase in tasteful pots.

"Off with that thing." The woman's fingers glide under Feyd's lapels and over his smooth shoulders, slipping his ornamental jacket off his arms. The expensive garment flutters over the banister and he remains in a sleeveless tunic and trousers.

"So, now that you're my wife, will you stop taking that potion?" Feyd leers at her stomach once they've reached the top, his tone playful. The hand that lunges to smack him atop the head is one that he had predicted, and so he dodges it masterfully and dances behind her. Hard, strong arms curl around her middle, lifting her off the ground until she breaks into gasping giggles and demands to be let down with kicking feet. The hem of her gown slides up her shins.

Feyd grins, feeling the plushness of her breasts against his forearms. "What a rare pleasure to have you in a gown, my darling" he purrs.

"For this special occasion, I thought I might as well," she huffs with laughter, accepting her airborne fate.

"I like it. It's practical."

"Practical for you, not for me."

The garment is a classic cut worn by Harkonnen noblewomen, flattering and intricate in the way it curls around her bosom and hips in obsidian black, nothing like the stiff latex and see-through plastic of the former Baron's palace servants.

"Don't worry, you won't have to wear it for the rest of the week, my darling. You'll wear nothing but sweat and cum on your pretty skin. Or maybe some blood. I didn't bring a coffer full of toys for nothing."

"I hope some of them are for you."

"More than you'd think," he purrs, pink lips pressing against her neck. "And some of the blood will be mine."

"Oh? We could start now." The woman twists out of his grasp, turning and grasping his lapels. Her lips find the crescent scar on his clavicle, pretending to delve for a kiss when she really pinches the thin layer of skin over the bone between her teeth. Feyd grunts, shamelessly pressing his confined erection against her navel.

"Let's go, my darling." He seizes her hand, his whole universe, and opens the door.

🎶🎶🎶

"Look, doesn't this remind you of something?" His wife's voice whispers to him excitedly and Feyd-Rautha tilts his head, brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"Look!" Her ringed hand slides out of his grip and he chases after it viscerally, nearly overwhelmed by the sudden discomfort of having no soft palm against his own. She shouldn't be slipping away from him at all on their honeymoon.

But then, recognition carves into him, serrated blades that tear his guts open with a monstrous sense of deja vu. His head spins as he advances into the room.

Feyd's feet step on polished parquet and his gaze swivels around, scanning the surroundings which he thought he would never see again. There are white curtains fluttering by the window, a king-sized bed carved out of white marble, a black comforter tucked around the mattress and blue pillows are lined up against the headboard. A real fern grows in a terracotta pot in the corner.

Horrified, Feyd's head snaps back to his woman, suddenly recognizing the  Harkonnen gown wrapped around her curves. He finds her eyes brimming with meaning. 

She clutches his wrist hard, nails digging into tender skin, and it is like some sense of frantic, mutual understanding settles upon wife and husband. Her features soften and she looks at him, seemingly confused.

"I don't recognize this place," he lies. His heart clamors like a captive beast.

"Me neither." She pulls her hand away and takes a step back, her cheeks hot and her head dizzy as the universe's mysterious gears rotate around them. But she masks it well.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" Feyd rumbles, tracing his fingertips over the cool, smooth marble bedpost. It feels so real. It is real and always has been real.

"I don't know. I feel so awake." 

A flash of warmth blossoms in Feyd-Rautha's chest as he regards the woman he has seen so many times before, in visions and reality. Curiously, she moves around the light-flooded bedroom. Sunlight filters through the curtains, temporarily robbing her flesh of color. A frown decorates her brows and she turns back to face him. Years of comfort reside in the way she moves and Feyd chases after her with measured steps.

"What's your name?" He asks. She tells him only a forename, no House, because she has none, unfamiliar sounding, because the name was given to her 24,000 years ago. "I've never heard that name before," Feyd confesses, standing mere inches away from his wife. Her pretty face is craned upwards to meet the alluring gaze of his eyes. She would describe the color as baby blue. The prettiest shade in the world.

"And what's your name?" She breathes. No matter what this is, she has no reason to be nervous. It already happened.

He hesitates at that. Feyd-Rautha Rabban. But ultimately, he stays true to the script. "Feyd." 

The name sparks no judgment on the woman's features and he remembers the flood of immense, stupid relief and how he had concluded that there is probably more than one person in the universe named Feyd, that Harkonnens all look the same to foreigners. To talk to a person who only knows Feyd, not Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had been his lifeline out of the gluttonous maws of death.

"Feyd," she repeats, suddenly giggling.

He too is in the mood for giggling, but he didn't giggle then, so he doesn't giggle now. Feyd leans an inch closer, eyes rapidly dancing across her mirthful face.

"Feyd as in you will fade away when I wake up?" She covers her mouth now, still laughing. Something compels him to laugh as well because all things considered, this is still a funny joke, even though neither of them will wake up. 

Or will they?

No. No, they won't.

The pressure against the apples of his cheeks doesn't feel so unfamiliar anymore, as the corners of his mouth lift into a wide grin. His lips part and what escapes him is a small haha.

Suddenly, the woman flinches and her smile drops. Perhaps she had the same thought as he did. She catches herself quickly and remembers: "Sorry! I just—"

"What? Oh, the black teeth? People usually find them very pretty where I'm from, desirable even.” Feyd closes his mouth. He's still unsure if laughter suits him, but his woman seems to like it. Always has.

"Oh, no, please keep laughing!" She wraps her hand around Feyd's wrist. So smooth, every part of him. She wants to curl against his body and rub her cheek against his pallid flesh. Even now, his features are still outlandish to her, strikingly pretty. The pale skin, so light that it almost looks translucent, the entirely bald head and lack of brows.

She should have always known that he's not a figment of her imagination, because she couldn't have imagined someone so pretty.

Encouraged by her touch, Feyd smiles once more and it has never been easier. It feels so good. He looks away from his woman who still holds his wrist and finds a mirror on the far wall. He looks foreign to himself, his cheeks not in the right place, but he's gotten more used to it.

"If I pinch you, will you wake up?" She teases, pinching his skin without waiting for his answer. She seems fascinated by the small blotch which decorates his wrist where she poked him with her nail, twisting and turning his wrist and hand like he's an interesting specimen. Of course she would look at him like that — his little scientist, life saver, love of his life.

Even though this is not a lucid dream, Feyd knows he doesn't have to worry about what he does, not with her. She has loved even the most unlovable parts of him. He feels compelled to do things he would have never done before her, such as dismantling the walls around his soul with laughter.

Even though this is not a lucid dream, she knows she doesn't have to worry about what she does, not with him. She also feels compelled to do things she would have never done before him. Such as getting married to the apocalyptic soundscape of an erupting volcano and adopting a lovely freak of immoral genetic engineering.

"So, Feyd…" She purrs his name like an exotic, amusing thing. "What would you like to do?"

Feyd pretends to be taken aback by the question, because no one ever used to ask him that. Not like that. "What would you like to do?" He coos, slinking closer with rolling gait and a small smirk on his serpentine features. He knows the way her pupils dilate well.

"There's a bed in the room, so…"

Feyd leers, smile turning wolfish. Yes, he will fuck his wife senseless. He might even fuck her so good that his own climax jostles him awake and out of whatever the fuck this bizarre simulation is. Which, upon second thought, would ruin his life.

She speaks again, moving her lips closer to his, pretty lashes lowering so they almost kiss her cheek bones "...So perhaps that means we should sleep."

Feyd acts baffled, then rumbles: "I won't sleep in my sleep."

"I meant sleeping with each other."

Of course she did. Feyd's hairless brows shoot up and something light flutters in his stomach when she starts giggling again, attempting to turn away as if suddenly bashful about her own words.

"To the bed, you confusing woman," he orders with a low growl and there is not even an ounce of resistance when his hands wrap around his wife's shoulders, nudging her backwards, so her knees bend around the mattress of their honeymoon bed and she sinks down.

Her husband's face hovers directly over her and she admires the dip of his cupid's bow and the soft curve of his jaws. So pretty. She reaches up and cups his cheek and the way his bone structure slots against her palms feels just right, always has.

Feyd pounces on her like a tiger and the strength and weight of the hard muscles concealed by a black tunic and slacks becomes evident. Heat pools into her abdomen instantly, caged under the man of and from her dreams who is made of flesh and blood, smells like it too. A familiar note of something leathery and metallic clings to him.

There is no need for a prelude, because they've loved each other a thousand times, in the past and the future. Feyd's lips kiss her decolletage before they find her throat and by the time they've found her lips, the hard ridge of his cock is pressed against her core which is only covered by the fabric of her dress, ridiculously easy to access.

Practical for him, as he said.

Why not, she thinks. It's not like the world is going to come collapsing down on them. Right?

Why not, he thinks. Even if the world comes collapsing down on them when they're done, it would be worth it.

Her hands curl around the back of his head gently and Feyd wants to weep at how soft her touch is, almost like she's worried of hurting him. He loves her nails in his scalp as much as he loves the loving dance of her fingertips.

She rolls her hips against his pelvis, ever amazed how hard his body is. A small grunt escapes her husband's mouth and mingles with the sloppy kiss which is all soft lips and saliva, leaving her open-mouthed and softly moaning for more as her core yearns for friction.

Feyd-Rautha is ever amazed by how soft and pliant her body is, breasts and stomach like a pillow for him to snuggle. And her little cunt is already grinding against his crotch. Under different circumstances, he might have had his fun right away, but that's his wife and her squirming hips are too tempting not to spoil her rotten before he fucks her. He reaches down, long fingers gliding up the curve of her thigh where the dress has pooled around her hips. Instinctively, her leg curls up higher, knee pressing against his ribs. Feyd works her underwear halfway off her rear, needing to get up to slide it off fully.

"If this is a lucid dream, I should be able to make myself wet with a thought," she muses as Feyd scoots down and freezes halfway, before he can settle down between her thighs, hard cock straining against his trousers.

The brief moment of hesitation is all it takes to throw him off the track of time that has carved its way through the universe.

"But it's not a lucid dream. They were visions all along, weren't they?" Feyd blurts, deviating from God's wicked script. For a moment, they both stare at each other in terror, as if expecting the universe to disintegrate and crush their souls into one smoldering singularity in space-time. 

But nothing happens.

Nothing at all.

The relic shuffles up slowly, tugging her dress down her legs and sitting back on her haunches.

"What is going on?" Feyd hisses, scared that the quantum spirits in the walls are listening. "What the fuck was that?"

He has never been so grateful to see the spark of knowledge in her eyes.

"That was our past, present and future."

"So, are we in a— a fucking time loop? Are we gonna wake up and go through hell again? Will I have to wait another eternity for the Guild to pluck you out of space?!"

"No!" She curls her arms around his shoulders and lays her forehead against his. No, my love… But it is a loop of sorts." Rapt fingertips glide slowly to the crescent scar on Feyd's pallid clavicle, inflicted by herself a few months back, first noticed by her 24,000 years ago, when Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was not even a spark among the stars. "We could have never ended up together if we hadn't already seen us be together in the past, but what we really saw back then was our future. Weren't we the greatest actors? We were so good, we convinced even ourselves."

The terrible, beautiful Ouroboros has finally come to devour its own, cosmic tail and a shudder of awe passes through the two souls who straddle the starry serpent's undulating neck. From the macroscopic cosmos to the microscopic one within their bodies, it makes even their molecules tremble, even the quantum particles that make up the endless void of every ounce of matter, every brain, every soul.

"But I messed it up," Feyd insists. "I said the wrong thing. Why didn't we see ourselves having this conversation during our first dream? Why didn't we wear our wedding rings then?"

"There's never just one future." She kisses him on the lips, stealing his anxious breath for but a moment.

"How many?"

"Many." The engineer laughs, hands trailing up Feyd's neck to cradle his jaws. Panic fades from his gaze and flows into blue-eyed petulance. "Are your scientists aware of the many-worlds-theory?"

"Do I look like I know?" Strong hands hold his wife's face in a gentle vise.

"In quantum physics, a particle always has two states at once until it is observed. Then, its waveform collapses and it becomes one of the two states. But what happens to the other state?" She pauses, closing her eyes. "It exists too, but in another world. That is the many-worlds-theory.

With every decision we make, every beat of a butterfly's wing, every quiver of a molecule brushing against another, a new world branches off. That makes a tree with infinite branches or a delta with infinite rivers, rolling onwards and onwards since the birth of the first atom. Among this… infinity—" Her breath shudders in trembling reverence. "—there are branches in which we said it just right, because we knew what to say. Branches in which we saw exactly this conversation, or never found each other at all."

"So, why are we in this one where every vision of us acting was aligned perfectly? How probable is that?"

"As probable as any other nexus of visions. One infinity can't be bigger or smaller than another." A small smile plays around her lips. "Some say, the entire universe in itself is a simulation. For all we know, we could just be figments of someone's imagination, or pixels on a computer screen. Perhaps it would have been a less exciting story to tell, if it happened any other way."

The relic briefly turns her head to look at you — yes, you — quantum spirit in the walls.

"And why us?"

She is so happy that her husband's spark for science has finally been ignited, even if just for a few heartbeats — or a few beats of a butterfly's wings.

"When I was with the Bene Gesserit, they called it prescience. They said it's genetic and that my genes allowed me to survive millennia in cryo sleep." She sighs with bitterness. "If my own family has an aberrant sequence in our DNA, we might as well be the ancestors of— of everyone versed in prescience."

And the cause for so much suffering. 

Feyd sees it in her eyes, that flame of intrigue followed by the need to explore and sink into the inland empire of her mind and the ancient technology that's fused with her, a place where he can't follow. So, he tilts her face upwards in both loving hands and kisses her hard before breaking away with a coy grin.

"Are you saying you're my great great great aunt?"

"Yeah!" She blurts out laughing. "I think I am."

Giggling, she goes back in, throws her arms around Feyd's neck and topples him on his back, tangling her legs with his like their threads of fate.

In their angry daydreams, they have pictured themselves in red and gold as the king and queen of a new, better empire, handing out guns and bombs to the revolution.

But in their hearts, they're just a girl and a boy. An astronaut lost in space and a man who has yet to discover his destiny beyond being the unwilling prince of a noble House.

From now on, their future is theirs, and despite all the rights and wrongs, it boils down to a single question.

What do they want? A war to make the universe anew as they see fit? Or maybe just a universe as big as they are. Maybe just—

Peace.

Caught in the riptide I was searching for the truth There was a reason I collided into you Calling your name in the midnight hour Reaching for you from the endless dream So many miles between us then Now you are always here with me Nobody knows (nobody knows) why (why) Nobody knows how, and This feeling begins just like a spark Tossing and turning inside of your heart Exploding in the dark Calling your name in the midnight hour Reaching for you from the endless dream So many miles between us then Now you are always here with me Oh, inside me I find my way Back to you, back to you Calling your name in the midnight hour Reaching for you from the endless dream So many miles between us then Now you are always here with me Two words In your hands, in your heart It′s one (whole) universe You are always here with me

- Here With Me (Two Worlds) by Susie Suh

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A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for accompanying me on this writing journey ❤️ I'm a little heartbroken that it's over 😭 I had expected to be more relieved, but I'm actually so sad right now. Proud and happy but sad 😭 

If you enjoyed reading this labor of love of mine, please do let me know in a comment, if you can find the time 🫶🏻 No matter if you have or haven't commented before, I'm going to be so grateful about every thought, every reaction. Comments are genuinely the most rewarding thing when publishing my stories, much more so than hits and kudos, because fanfics (in my opinion) are to be relished and not consumed  🫶🏻

I'm not ready to say goodbye to the Dune universe. I have more stories in mind. The idea that I've been mulling over would be the largest, longest and most complex work that I've ever written. I'm talking about heavy world building, an entirely original planet and population, a much more depraved Feyd-Rautha and female protagonist. I've already been teetering at the border of an OC with the reader character in this one. For the next one, I would cross that line for the first time and go for an OC, make the FMC as fleshed out as Feyd is. The story would have a heavy emphasis on religion, corruption kink and cannibalism. It'd be a dove that's almost dead. Basically, all the world building would be my excuse to write deranged, blasphemous, messy smut. It definitely wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea. However, I wouldn't wanna start posting before I've written the entire thing, which might take a long time, so as not to put too much pressure on myself. Can't disappoint anyone if I'm only writing for myself for the time being ❤️

I also have a smutty F/M/M threesome oneshot cooking in my brain, one of the men being Feyd, the other being a surprise 🤭

Annndd I also have two other Feyd oneshots (that have been on ao3 for ages) to upload here, which I'll probably do within the next weeks.

If any of this sounds like something you'd enjoy, feel free to subscribe to me as an author on ao3 to receive email notifications, or follow me here on Tumblr 🫶🏻 I would be so happy to see you again, all of you 💕

[ajgrey9647]

Question Game: Quad Life Red

What does self-care look like for you? What if your favorite book? 5 Male Celebrity Crushes?

So I combined this ask with a previous one for Red... :) Told you I save them until the muse strikes lol

Quad Life Red:

Q. What does self-care look like for you?

A. For Red, self-care is not just taking care of his physical wellbeing but his mental health as well. In terms of his body, Red is dedicated to healthful eating, exercise, rest… He isn’t exactly able to visit a doctor’s office or other provider’s facilities since he isn’t supposed to exist in the Prime Universe; therefore no ID, social security number, past medical history, insurance information, etc. His glasses are most likely just reader’s that one can buy over the counter, not an official prescription.

Since coming to the Prime Universe and learning the truth about himself as an alternate personality and having access to the trauma CJ endured in the process of his creation, Red is very much aware of the importance of maintaining his mental health. He’s read books about his condition, PTSD and trauma, effective communication, and other interpersonal skills to help him related to others as he’s lived as a human pet for twenty years and had to remember appropriate human interactions and behaviors.

Red keeps a gratitude journal to help him keep in focus all the things he’s grateful for and that make him happy so he has to keep those at the forefront of his mind instead of everything he’s lost and endured. He has a bucket list of things that he’d like to do and experience in this ‘new’ world. Mindfulness is also something that Red is working on cultivating to keep his mind in the present day: breath-work, meditation, mindful walking and gardening, etc. He makes time for his hobbies and interests which include painting, gardening, animals, and he also is focused on taking care of the environment.

Red doesn’t spend a lot of time in front of a screen or other electronic device.

His motto would be: Live Simply and Practice Gratitude.

Q. What is your favorite book?

A. One of Red’s favorite books is ‘All Creatures Great and Small’ by James Herriot. (He’s actually reading it in the next chapter of one of my WIP’s lol). ‘A Very Small Farm’ by William Paul Winchester. Various works by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Q. 5 Male Celebrity Crushes

A. Tom Ellis, Jonathan Bailey, Chris Hemsworth, Jason David Frank, and Chris Evans…

Q. What is Red’s favorite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

A. Red’s stomach can’t tolerate greasy, sugary, sweet foods. He’s used to eating very healthily and simply, minimally processed. He loves sockeye salmon with grilled asparagus and a baked potato. As far as snacks, he does like salty things particularly ruffled potato chips. Dessert would probably be some type of fruit or maybe yogurt.

Red also does enjoy red wine, preferably a semi-sweet or dry. He usually drinks water or whole milk.

He finds comfort in the familiar and this way of eating sooths him just like having a pretty regular routine or schedule. He likes to know what to expect.

Q. What is Red’s most hated food? Stuff he can’t stand to eat or drink?

A. Red’s most hated foods are anything that are too sugary or sweet; it makes him gag and/or vomit. His tastebuds just can’t handle it.

(In Gift of Kismet, Drakkon reminds him of the incident with the slurpee at 7-11 when Red got a little too wild and fancy-free. Trying to drink a large super-sugary drink mixed with a little brain freeze… Didn’t go well for him.)

(Or when he tried to eat some Fruit Loops that Skull found when they had Red trapped in the containment cage in the Coinless World and had no idea what to feed him. He immediately spat it on the floor and acted like a cat with a hairball. He truly wasn’t trying to be a dick… it was reflexive.)

He thinks the things that Drakkon cooks, like the pancakes and sausages etc, smell SO SO good but its too heavy and he pukes.

[smallestapplin]

Hello!! I hope you’re doing well!!!

I saw that you wrote for a reader x Decepticon harem and I think I had an interesting idea!

So we all know that TFP! Megs gets a little Eugh when he’s on that purple space crack, so who do you think would be the best for Reader to go hang out with when they want to avoid Zooted Megatron? Cause we all know it’s unnerving to be around someone when they’re unpredictable, so it’s natural that Reader would want to go “hide” with someone to stay out if possible conflict!

Thank you so much and have a great day!!!

Oohh good question. I think, in order in the transformers prime universe, it would be

Soundwave.

Breakdown.

Knockout.

-

Soundwave is number one as no one truly bothers him, and Megatron doesn't ask much of him. You can hide in his Chassis while he works.

In truth it's where you're safest, and Megatron won't see you in his dark energon state. Soundwave doesn't speak, but his slow and gentle actions so he cares, he doesn't want you hurt.

It's like being hidden in plain sight, and anyone who noticed dares not say a thing in fear of Soundwave, or Megatron possibly finding you.

-

I placed Breakdown above Knockout for one reason.

He's not caught up in shenanigans like Knockout is.

Breakdown is very sweet on you, you can hide in his large Chassis by his spark, or vibe in his habsuite. Besides Breakdown does get bored doing more mundane things he has to do, having you to keep him company is nice.

He'll usually have you on his shoulder, only rushing to hide you when he hears pedesteps.

-

Knockout is at the bottom of this list, but he's still a very safe option as he he's the entire medbay to himself most of the time, so you basically get to pick where you want to hide.

Besides he likes to pamper you, clean you, dress you up, make you look all cute.

He'd hate for his hard work to be ruined, so he keeps you hidden away and safe from a raging Megatron.

Not to mention he leaves the ship pretty often, even if it's to just street race. If you asked him if you could tag along, maybe get some fast food, stretch your legs, he'd be more than happy to.

Probably even call it date night.

-

What all three have in common is they would lie to Megatron's face about your whereabouts.

You are the decepticons darling, of course even in his feral state Megatron wants you, however his mood flip on a dime and he's not above throwing things.

You're squishy, at best you'd only get hurt, more realistically you'd be killed in the wake of his rampage.

-

Also, I know he joins the cons long after Megatron is freed from dark energon, but Dreadwing would also be a good choice.

You have his word, you'll never be hurt so long as he's there. He thinks you're odd in a cute way, and likes it when you pick him.

His wings will twitch behind him, happy.

Another Chassis to hide in, another one that's very spacious for you. And to feel your warmth next to his spark has him weak.

He will not cave, he will not break, you are his top priority here.

[psycheetamore]

Sharing his most precious darling

Summary: Feyd's trainer saves his life in battle, allowing him to request everything from the young lord. He requests you, the favourite concubine of the na-Baron himself. After a brawl, his fighter gets you for a night. Despite Feyd's acceptance of this settlement, he seeks to overturn it, only to be convinced by you to join both of you, rather than fight. 

Tags: MDNI, Feyd-Rautha is his own warning, smut, threesome (MFM), p's in everywhere, dp, dub-con, humiliation / exhibition kinks

Motive: it is the last day of October kinktober, so the last day I can create something like this with no excuse needed. The one thing I was struggling for a while to connect was Feyd-Rautha and a MFM threesome. Because, would he ever share? Well... I am happy to announce I have finally found a plausible justification. Here you go my darlings.  

A couple of firsts for me here: written from the ‘you-perspective’ (let me know if you prefer this or not). I woke up early and started thinking about this, so it came quite quickly on paper (or in other words: higher risks of typo's - post publishing to be removed) and needed to post this while it was still kinktober ;-). As a result: a very quick burn (for my writing standards that is). 

Word count: 4k 

+++

Every time he went out for battle in Arrakis, you were fearful. You knew he was one of the best trained warriors in the universe, but still, your na-Baron was human. He could be overcome in just a blink of an eye. A small tiny distraction could cost him everything. So, each morning that he lingered for too long in your warm bed, you forced him out to meet his battle trainer for lessons. Sometimes, you would watch from the shadows, see how this man would try his best to best your man. And every now and then, it would succeed. 

His trainer was not a Giedi Prime or Arrakis native, but was a person once enslaved from Caladan. Twice the age of the na-Baron he was freed to rise in the Harkonnen ranks. A sun kissed skin, light brown hair and green eyes: quite the opposite of your Feyd. Years in battle had strengthened his body and roughened his face, but had never managed to remove the boyish twinkle in his eyes and lips that escaped every time he saw you. It was electrifying, and he knew this was a sure way to get you to escape from the shadows back into the safety of the palace. 

You were already lying in bed, when you heard the horns bellow to alert the inhabitants of the Arrakeen palace of yet another fight won. He may come to visit you this evening, or he may visit one of his other concubines or pets. This did no longer upset you, knowing he was safe again. 

As you tried to fall asleep, the door opened softly. Footsteps neared your bed, and you heard him crouch next to your head: “my darling” as the na-Baron pet your head. You opened your eyes, holding back tears, which he must have seen, as you interrupted him: “I am so relieved you are back again, in one piece.” Typically, he would chuckle, and tell you he would never be harmed as he is the best skilled warrior with the fiercest army. But this response did not leave his mouth. He merely responded: “thanks to my trainer. He saved me.”  

Your eyes opened further while you felt your heart drop. This would not be the last shock you would hear, as he continued: “it is our custom that if you save your lord, you can ask everything your heart desires. Everything. And I cannot refuse, unless I want to fight a last battle to the death with that person.” You responded: “I am so happy he was with you. You should give him everything he asks. He has trained you to be the fighter you are. He deserves it.”  

Feyd responded: “He requested you.” Your mouth fell open. It was only now that you saw he had a black eye and scratches on his face. “I refused him, because you are my favourite. I have seen how he looks at you, and I have tolerated that for too long.” You gasped. If your man would fight this Caladan warrior, there was no saying how this may end up. “He told me that you are not immune to the looks he gives you.” He softly grabbed your chin as he forced you to look at him: “is that true, my darling?” You swallowed and were happy the lights were very dim as your blushing would have given you away immediately. You decided to take a more politically sensitive route, the avenue of submission, which always worked with the na-Baron: “Whatever you request of me, I will not decline my lord.” He knew you long enough to be able to answer with a low voice, laced with disappointment: “so he was right. Well, I told him I would need to kill him if he wanted to have you as his own pet. So, after a small discussion, we settled that he would get you for one night.” You looked at Feyd-Rautha with near contempt in your eyes. Did he beat your lord? But there was no time to think about that, as he continued while standing up: “this should make this a pleasurable evening for you.” He growled disgruntledly as he closed the door: “he will be here in 5 minutes. Make sure to not disappoint me." 

It was a mystery what he meant with not disappointing him. Should you either be as coy as possible with the man who saved his life, should you prevent getting any pleasure from this, or should you treat him as you would treat your concubinator? But there was no time to think about this, as you were given a mere five minutes to prepare. To remove your nightgown, to put on something with more substance, and to digest what had just happened. You were filled with conflicting feelings. Relieve as the young lord survived, fear that it came so close that he needed to be saved, anxiousness that he seemed to have uncovered the eyes you had placed on his trainer, and pure excitement you did not want to acknowledge of what was to come this night. 

You had just finished to tidy up your hair as the door flung open. Still in his fighting clothes, less the armour, he stepped in your room. As he walked towards you, you gasped and froze. The metallic smell of blood hit your nose, while you saw him looming up. His beige shirt dirtied with what used to be the lifelines of Fremen warriors, unbuttoned to his solar plexus, showing some of the curves of his chest, graced by hair. The sleeves rolled up showing his toned arms. Legs covered in black pants and boots.  

He could not have been more different than Feyd, and yet still so similar. You knew how tightly strung men could be when coming home after a fight. Focussed on relieving themselves from the last bit of aggression roaming their body. It was not dissimilar to how the na-Baron would barge into your room and nearly force himself upon you. You had grown accustomed to it.  

While you stood there, keeping still as a statue, he started talking. He had never talked to you before. You had only heard him shout, but never speak. From his face, at least as bruised and hurt as that of Feyd, come the words: “you can call me Ivan, my love” as he hummed to show he was pleased. His voice sounded rough. A thick accent, not all letters pronounced as clearly as you were used to. It surprised you that you had actually never learned his name before. This could not be anything else but the result of machinations of Feyd-Rautha. Thinking about it, it became clear that he must have known of the looks you were giving to this man. Feyd knew it all along. Nothing ever went unnoticed.

A blush appeared on your cheeks. “So, you are alive. I was fearful at first that I might end up with your corpse. You see, you never quite know how a Harkonnen will respond to a request like mine” he chuckled. Your face turned into contempt, to which he responded: “I am just joking. Relax” while both of you knew he was quite close to a potential truth. 

But here he was, and he made it clear he had no time to waste, as he placed the last step to be able to grab you in his arms. “You have no idea how long I have longed to have you. Since the very first time I saw you hiding in those shadows, noticing how possessive your lord is over you. I knew I needed to have you. Even if I would die while trying.” You started to wonder whether he had truly saved Feyd, or used the chaos of battle to get his desires fulfilled. But soon, all these thoughts left your head, to be replaced with his exploring tongue that had forced itself into your mouth, his ravishing hands finding its way through your hair to push you against him. He was slightly taller than you, yet so much stronger.   

You were still standing on same spot, in front of the mirror where you had been tidying up your hair, as he flung you around. Looking at you, gazing over your shoulder while he tore your dress to uncover your chest and stomach. His hands roamed your body, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples, grabbing your hips, licking and biting your neck, breathing in your ears, as if he was in a hurry to experience everything before time ran out. Which was probably also in line with the truth. Who knew how long the na-Baron would accept his favourite being enjoyed by another man? His favourite enjoying another man – which was perhaps worse. That knowledge must have been the reason why he did not even bother putting on fresh clothes, or wiping the blood from the fallen off his body. He had a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, that was worth dying for. 

He pulled your dress up to allow his hands to roam where they needed to explore. Soon, you threw your head back on his shoulder as you decided you would succumb to what he had to offer. It was not as if you had any say in this anyhow. His touch was rough. Rougher than Feyd’s. But not less welcome. Your body warmed up to his presence quickly. He could feel how pleasure took over your body so quickly. “So wet. Just for me. Already coming on my fingers. I am starting to understand why you are his favourite. Or have you just been waiting all this time for me?”

This entree would not take long, being whisked off the ground. Perhaps this was triggered by your own roaming hands. Resting on his hips you took the opportunity to remove his shirt. Briefly you stalled: his chest and back were covered in scars from being flogged. “That is the Harkonnen treatment for you, milady” he laughed, responding to your observations. The scars were ridged. He must have been submitted to horrible treatment. And clearly was able to survive and thrive. A wonderous man this was, as you returned the kiss he had given you earlier. If this would be your last day on this planet, you too, so you had decided, would enjoy yourself.  

He did not carry you towards the bed. You did not make it there, as he placed you in front of a table. With no time to waste, he shoved you forward while dropping his trousers and pushed himself in you. No progressive build up, no tenderness, no time to allow him to fit pleasantlyin you. There was no time. He would use any second he could get as he sheathed himself in you entirely, filling you up completely and hitting your cervix.  

After a few thrusts you grew accustomed to his size, allowing you to get increased pleasure from him. Each push pulled you further of the cliff. It was one thing to come on his fingers, but to come on the cock of another man was nothing but a death-warrant to be signed. As you lay draped over the table, being succumbed to the pounding movements of Ivan, heading towards your next peak, the door opened again.  

Gruffly the na-Baron ordered: “stop.” His trainer looked up at him, and glanced deep in his eyes, while keeping his hands on your hips and not stopping: “make me, Harkonnen scum. Kill me while I am fucking your favourite. A good way to die for a warrior.” His laughter filled the room. After it died out, a warning came soon, retaking the silence in the room that was only overcome by Ivan's grunting, your moaning and him hitting your buttocks with his pelvis and balls: “careful.” But that only enticed Ivan further, as he increased the pace and grabbed your hair to show your desperate face to your lord: “see what I am doing? See how she is falling apart? She clearly needed a good fuck from a true soldier.”  

You wanted to avert your face, filled with shame, but he would not let you. As he continued stroking your innards, you tried to salvage whatever was possible. “Feyd” you moaned, reaching out for him as a wave of pleasure surpassed through your frame. You wanted to scream Ivan's name, but you had just enough sense still left in you to know that would have been the death verdict of at least two people in this room.  

The na-Baron stepped closer to you, looking down upon you with disappointment on his face, contradicted with excitement on your eye level. You hooked your hand in his trousers, as if to stabilise yourself while you were being shoved across the table. 

This gesture did more than that. It stabilised something else. It caused him to only have attention for you, as he proceeded in a manner you did not expect him to. He stepped towards you, mere centimetres of air remaining between you and him, and stayed put. He did not respond to Ivan. He did not talk. He just looked at you. As his hand moved to caress your hair, his soldier quickly removed his and reduced his pace, allowing you to regain some control over your body.

A new equilibrium was found.  

With your available hand you touched him, feeling his cock restrained by his pants. You felt the outline. Looking up to him, the disappointment had been replaced with longing and urge. He grabbed your hair, signalling what he was expecting. You knew him so well, and he knew you knew. Before long he had undone himself from his own bloodied shirt and stepped out of his trousers, allowing you to take him in your mouth.  

Your head sideways allowed you to see both men from your peripheral vision. It did not go unnoticed how they looked at each other in admiration, while they were both driving themselves in you. They were comrades in arms, shortly replaced by being adversaries, to be mates again. You were the bounty of the fight they shared. And you loved every second of it.

Before long you felt another peak come up, the moans of which transferred onto Feyd as he buried himself in your throat. You saw him looking at Ivan, with increased tension. His trainer was clearly nearing his own peak, and you had a feeling how your lord would feel about another man's sperm in your pussy. A feeling that would not be positive.  

It did not surprise you to hear his dark voice order “don't come in her pussy” after which you were immediately abandoned. Ivan heavily panted behind you, recollecting himself before he could argue with Feyd. Meanwhile, Feyd continued to thrust in your mouth. It must have been a sight to behold for the warrior to which you were gifted this evening. 

"Sir, I believe your lady is not yet fully satisfied. I believe we still have an expedition ahead of us” as he managed to cool down a bit. Feyd hummed, as he looked down on you: “yes, she has quite an appetite.” Looking up at Ivan he continued: “this is your evening. You earned it. What do you propose, comrade?” Ivan chuckled: “I would propose we continue at a softer place. The young lord removed himself from your mouth and looked at his mate: “the honour is yours.”  

It should not have surprised you that he exactly understood what he was to do, as they had fought in battle shoulder by shoulder for years, but it still did. A gasp escaped your body as you were flung over Ivan's shoulder carrying you to your bed, with Feyd leading the way and opening the doors.  

Laying you softly on your bed, he asked your concubinator: “so what else is off limits for me?” A smirk arose on Feyd's lips: “just don't come in her pussy. You earned all other benefits.” Ivan smiled, he seemed truly appreciative of what his lord had offered him. “I recommend her mouth” the na-Baron added. 

As you scooted back on the bed, Ivan followed you on hands and knees, to hover above you. “Did you hear that, little one? We are going to have so much fun” followed by another deep kiss while he grabbed your neck to hold your head close to his. A kiss now with less haste and more adventure. Feyd's cooperation had provided all of you with more time. And in that sense, also with a sense of more agency over yourself. There was no need for you anymore to be passive and merely accept what was offered. You could find your own path now. Or so you thought. 

“Gentlemen” you started, as you had pushed Ivan of you and had pushed yourself up on your elbows, “you have already brought me incredibly much pleasure.” The blue eyes of your pale man and the green eyes of your sun kissed man staring at you in anticipation, as their hands started to touch your legs. You hummed with content, as you continued: “I love how you boys are so committed to my pleasure...” The words had not left your mouth, or they had started to wolf you down. Devour you. Feyd was trailing your legs to reach the core of your pleasure, while Ivan crouched over you again, hands all over your chest, your neck, your hands. Both lapping you like dogs. Engulfing you in attention, replacing any room left in your head with primal urges.   

“Harkonnen, I believe she needs to be filled again” Ivan spoke to his leader, after he noticed how you managed to get a hold of his cock while opening your mouth wide to allow him to penetrate you with his tongue. “Your observing nature has always been one of your best traits, Ivan” Feyd said, removing his mouth from your folds. “Feyd” you moaned, as you tried to buck to meet his mouth again. “Not so impatient, pet. We decide when it is time that you will have us again.” You growled to show your aggravation and tried to lift your knee to hit your lord's face. “Ivan, she needs to submit. Teach her. Fuck her mouth.”  

Ivan, being the compliant soldier that he is, did as he was told, and did so with pleasure. He grabbed some pillows to place under your neck so you could tilt your head backwards, moved to sit beyond your head so that he could see your entire body, and placed the tip of his hard cock on your lips. “Open. Wide” he ordered, as placed his thumb in the corner of your mouth to open it.  

While he looked at you as you sucked him, drawing him in deeper and deeper, your joint master was sucking you. As he thrust into your mouth, Feyd thrust his tongue into your pussy. It was overwhelming. The attention. The pleasure. Both men seeing each other slaving for your desire. Soon you came again, trying to scream with Ivan deep in your throat, hands grabbing Feyd's bold head. “You did not lie, Harkonnen.” 

Suddenly, Ivan removed himself from you, again. Panting, trying to brief deeply. He clearly wanted to enjoy you as long as possible, knowing that this day would never come again. “Any other suggestions, sir?” as he recouped.  

Feyd removed his mouth from you, and replaced it with his fingers: “whatever you want to do. She has more holes that require pleasure”, as he softly pressed his thumb on your ass, stealing a glance. “Don't you, my darling?” You moaned, but Feyd did not accept that: “tell me. No. Beg me. What do you need? Beg us.” A sigh left you, as you arched your back to face the wall. The humiliation of this vile request, while being gazed upon by both men was hard to deal with, but the pleasure you needed was a bigger burden. Biting your lip, you felt him curl his fingers, as if to remind you of the answer he needed. “Fuck... why are you torturing me like this?” toes curling as you felt another wave coming. Bucking your pelvis on his fingers, arching your back repeatedly as a cat, moaning, the eyes of both men feasted on your naked body in extasy. “I can't... I can't take it... Feyd, please...” You knew he was teasing you. You knew you were so close. He knew exactly what he needed to do, yet, he withdrew his fingers just a bit. “You know what you need to do, little pet.”  

You groaned again. Closing your eyes as tightly as possible, while moving your hips even more ferociously, you moaned: “I need to feel your cocks inside of me.” Feyd continued to tease: “you need to be more specific darling. And you need to beg.” Agitated you pushed his thigh to show your contempt: “I am begging you. Please. Please fill me. Feyd, I need you to come in my pussy. Ivan, I need you to fill my ass. I need both of you. Please. Deep inside of me. This is too much.” 

Feyd rewarded you by pushing his fingers further in and allowing you to come again. “You see Ivan? She is listens well” as he offered his fingers to be licked clean by Ivan.  

“And sweet as well” Ivan replied. “May I?” as he looked at Feyd. “By all means. Drink. Feast. It is my pleasure. My reward for you” as Feyd extended his arm to welcome Ivan between your legs. Backing off the bed, the young lord looked at the sight in front of him, gratefully: his comrade in arms pleasuring his comrade in bed. Before long you fell in pieces yet again. 

“You promised me” you blurted out, soon after yet another wave had passed. Feyd walked up to you and squatted: “so little patience, small one. But I made a promise” as he walked around the bed to lay down next to you. His cock aiming at the sky, you knew what you were to do and straddled him. Meanwhile Ivan looked at you, jerking his cock. Making himself ready for the last course. 

As you were riding the lord, he softly guided your mouth to meet his. While allowing his tongue to also explore this crevice, he placed one hand on your butt to prepare you for what was to come. Softly pushing, softly opening you up, knuckle by knuckle moving himself in you and out again. With his other hand he snapped his fingers, calling Ivan to get closer and take over his role. 

As Ivan placed his fingers to continue, Feyd grabbed both butt cheeks to create more room for his soldier. Two fingers going in entirely with ease, throbbing in you, while you had buried Feyd inside your pussy, caused Ivan to declare: “I believe she is coming again, sir. This woman something else.” 

“She absolutely is. Now, while she is coming, push yourself in.” As you rode out yet another orgasm, it was strengthened by the sudden influx of more cock into your body. You moaned deeply into Feyd's mouth, grabbing hold of his chest and pushing your nails deep into him. It caused him to smile with pleasure. He loved to fight, yet he lived to satisfy his favourite.

A few pushes were all what was needed to have both men spill themselves in you, while you were fucked with more intensity than you had ever been fucked before. Being filled deeper and fuller than ever before. As you experienced your last wave, you let your head hang down, kissing Feyd's neck and whispering: “thank you.” 

[harukamitsuki]

Ur soooo right abt Lance I think he just became the fandom’s darling because people saw inklings of insecurity and home sickness and zeroed in. He’s whump bait, but like without the more complicated issues tied into Shiro, Allura, and Keith’s problems. Prime projection material.

He has potential and I appreciate fandom’s ability to see that in him, but you’re so right that people have completely forgotten who he is in canon. He *could* have been better, but he wasn’t and it’s frustrating that people have lost sight of that because I think it would genuinely produce more interesting takes on his character and role in the story. As someone who genuinely wants him to be a better character it makes me want to eat dry wall.

Lance, first and foremost, is the everyday man. That's why he's so popular. He is far from a piloting prodigy, flirts with every pretty girl, funny and exaggerative, has a generic weapon like a rifle, is the first paladin to find his Lion, and has the most basic interal conflict there can be. Which is why everyone loves him.

Shiro? Shiro is confirmed gay, was hailed as the most promising pilot pre-canon, was officially the youngest man sent into space, but also had an illness for canon forgot about it, had major PTSD that left him unable to move in most cases, considered himself broken if his hallucinations said anything, and literally died. He's good leader matieral, able to handle a group of four wildly differing teenagers and only really let his emotions plan his course of action once (when Allura was kidnapped). This man is insanely skilled but also insanely traumatised.

Keith? Keith beat all of the records Shiro set and was known as a genius in the field, only held back by his defense mechanisms and rushing on ahead. He was abandoned by his mother when he was a toddle, then his father died implicitly before his eyes, he was then an orphan where he was probably passed around from family to family, ot feeding into his adandonment issues. He gained a friend in Shiro, the first person to reach out to him, and then lost him a few years later. He finally gets Shiro back, only for more shit to happen. He finds out his mom was Galra, and becomes sorry that he even existed because of this. Nobody on Voltron actually felt like his friend with Pidge constantly calling him a loner right after he lost Shiro, Hunk poking fun at his Galra genes, and Lance playing up this one-sidedly rivalry and taking everything he does as an attack on his person. He loses Shiro again and has to constantly give him up for the sake of Voltron and the universe. The only time he can focus on himself is when Shiro is back and he distants himself for the team's sake and they just let him go. He's so affected by grief before the story starts and it doesn't give him a break. Even so, he's so kind and genuine about everything. He becomes the Black Paladin, not because he had no choice. Maybe at first, but he grows into that role and becomes a great leader.

Pidge? Pidge is a prodigy and a genius, able to hack firm and software from alien planets. She can fly a jet just from reading instruction manuels and have little to no trouble. At the same time, lost her brother and father all at once. When she finally got some clue as to what happened to them, she was kicked out and banned from the Garrison. She disguised as a boy and snuck in, abandoning her dream of becoming a fighter pilot because navigation would teach her more about scanning space for extraterrestrial communication and lifeforms. When she finally has the chance to find her family, she has to constantly give them and clues she may find up because Volton and the universe come first.

Hunk? Hunk is just as much of a genius as Pidge, even if the writers forget, with him able to spot foul play on an alien ship easily. He's so kind and loving yet fierce with his protection and so strong when defending his friends. He keeps spirits high with his warming attitude, even if he's the most home sick of them all. He acts the most realistically to become a child soldier. Still, even when he's terrified, he pushes on so that people like Shay can find out what freedom is. Feel it for themselves. When they go back to Earth, Hunk is the only one who has to fight to get his parents back and earn his happy ending. He suffers throughout the series, but he's always looking at the greener side.

Allura and Coran? They lost their families and thejr entire species before canon ever began. They lost so much and have nothing but revenge fueling them. They have to deal with the fact that they slept through the massacre of the Altean species and woke up far too late. They have to deal with inexperienced humans who have no real attachment to the war. They have to deal with the fact that they are the last of the Alteans. And when it's finally revealed that there are more survivors, they have to deal with the fact that they're being farmed by Lotor/Honerva for their quintessence. Allura was so depressed in season eight after falling for Lotor then being used so thoroughly by him. Coran never got to say goodbye to Allura before she died. Despite this, they still fight with all they have, making sure nobody has to face the loss they've felt.

Lance? Um. He's insecure about his place in the team? I guess Veronica nearly died but she didn't so whatever... He did spend a lot of his time in the Garrison being compared to Keith... But he also spent time he could've used to better his skills to sneak out and flirt with girls or hit the arcade. Um... I guess...

Um. Yeah.

See, I always wonder how people see such angst potential in Lance, or even see him as an angsty character in general. They act as though he's suffered the most in canon when, in reality, he hasn't. He has the most generic troubles and, I guess, it's more relatable that way? People don't have to struggle to relate to PTSD or abandonment issues or identity issues or child soldiers or losing your entire species.

Insecurity? That's easy because everyone feels insecure.

Which is why Lance is so popular.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this isn't valid. It sucks to feel insecure and doubt your every move. The only difference is how common Lance's issues are compared to everyone else. Because Lance is generic as hell, people love to vent through him.

Lance has a stable friendship group, is constantly given everything he wants, and even manages to destroy what has been the canon ship over decades (Kallura). He invented a rivalry with Keith, who didn't even know who he was when they met. Because of that, people either ship them for the 'rivals to lovers' trope or hate Keith and act as though Keith was bullying him. Shiro doesn't take Lance's side often because Lance's ideas are dangerous or reckless. He still tries to let him down gently, making logical arguments (see: Shiro explaining that Red is fire-resistant so Keith has to go to the BOM HQ). Oh, but he's not on Lance's side so the fandom decides he's an awful leader. As if they know what a good leader is. They think a good leader is someone who gets distracted by a pretty girl and blames everyone but himself.

The only thing not given to Lance on a silver platter is Black. Thank God. But because he wasn't given Black when he was given everything else, fandom decides that DreamWorks hates Lance and decides to argue that Lance was always destined to be the Black Paladin. Ignoring how Black's colour scheme was LITERALLY ON KEITH'S CLOTHES.

So. Yeah. He definitely has potential before DreamWorks just started rewarding him for breathing. The insecurity he has could have been a good way to develop his character. He could have become someone outside of Keith or Shiro's shadow. He didn't need a love interest to prosper, as proven by the fact that he never prospered in canon.

His potential was there, just ignored because the writers were allergic to complex characters, even to the smallest degree.

(They should have gotten the writers for Race to the Edge to do Voltron ugh)

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Louise Perry

Published: Jun 8, 2023

When we get home from the supermarket, our two-year-old likes to assist with taking the groceries out from underneath his stroller and carrying them to the kitchen. He will pick up a carton of milk and heave it towards the fridge like an atlas stone. “Well done darling” I say to him in a pitch slightly higher than usual, “you’re being so helpful.” 

Of course he isn’t actually being helpful. In fact, he’s slowing down the process of unpacking and risking an enormous milk spillage all over the kitchen floor. But my goal is encouragement and kindness – he’s only two, bless him, and that carton is awfully big and heavy. 

My husband regards these exercises with more of a gentle briskness. “Thanks mate” he’ll say in his usual tone of voice, excising my white lie. In this, I’ve learnt, my husband is typical of other men. In a 2015 study led by Mark VanDam, a professor in the Speech and Hearing Sciences department at Washington State University Spokane, researchers outfitted preschoolers and their parents with recording devices to monitor social interactions over the course of a normal day. The mothers, they found:

… used higher pitch and varied their pitch more when interacting with their child than with adults. The fathers, on the other hand, did not show the same pattern, and instead talked to their children using intonation patterns more like when they talked to other adults.

As an instinctive speaker of so-called ‘motherese’ – that is, baby talk – I find that when our son mispronounces a word (‘tawtah’ for ‘water’ or ‘mulack’ for ‘milk’) I will automatically echo it back to him, while my husband will automatically respond with the correct pronunciation. These differences persist despite the fact that we share childcare almost exactly equally within our family. 

It turns out we’re not alone in this sex difference, and that it may well have some adaptive purpose. "We think that maybe fathers are doing things that are conducive to their children's learning but in a different way,” writes VanDam, “the parents are complementary to their children's language learning.” Mothers speak down to children, while fathers speak to them like equals – in combination, these two kinds of stimuli promote the development of adult language. 

The adoption of motherese is an instinct that, in its correct context, is both comforting and developmentally useful. But it can also, in some circumstances, be dysfunctional. And, as I have become more and more fluent in it, I have started to notice that motherese is no longer confined to the nursery or the classroom, but is now to be found also in public life. Not in its full expression – “have you got a boo-boo, honey?” – but in a more subtle form. 

I heard a lot of motherese, for instance, in the responses to philosopher Kathleen Stock’s appearance this week at the Oxford Union – a political event considered significant enough to attract commentary from the Prime Minister and rolling updates on the homepages of several national newspapers.

Students at risk of being traumatised by Stock’s mild-mannered, centre-left brand of politics were ushered towards ‘welfare rooms’ offering ear plugs, bottles of water, and snacks. “The Union has made the choice to amplify a voice that actively harms trans students, trans people and the trans community at large” wrote one student politician, “we’re tired of [the Union’s] refusal to listen to the communities they hurt” insisted another. It was as if Stock was a rampaging bully on the playground, knocking other children to the ground, and her critics were leaping to the defence of the persecuted toddlers. 

Witnessing the backlash against her, you’d never guess that Stock’s only sin is to offer a careful academic critique of the doctrine of gender identity – that is, the claim that one can become a member of the opposite sex (or some other identity category in between) merely by force of will. As she reiterated in her Oxford Union speech, to reject this doctrine is not to deny the humanity of trans people, but rather to balance their interests against those of other people, particularly women. 

But I am by no means the first to notice an unexpected feature of the crowds that formed outside the Oxford Union this week, and indeed all of the crowds that congregate in support of trans activism (now a regular occurrence, and not just in the Anglosphere). While the occasional acts of outright aggression are overwhelmingly committed by men, the crowds in general are mostly composed of young women. 

Polling reveals this to be a wider pattern. In the UK, women – and particularly young women – are far more supportive of trans activism than are their male counterparts. The same gap can be seen in US polling. The public figures who have received the most flak for their criticisms of trans activism are disproportionately women – I’m thinking not only of Kathleen Stock, but also of JK Rowling – and yet so, too, are the movement’s most devoted allies. This is, in the main, an intra-female conflict. 

But if trans activism poses a threat to women’s interests – as Stock and Rowling insist that it does – then why have so many women come out in support of it? I want to propose two explanations for this seeming paradox. 

Firstly, in socioeconomic terms, the women who have the most to lose from the disintegration of female-only spaces – prisoners and domestic abuse victims, for instance – are not actually the same women who are draping themselves in blue and pink flags outside the Oxford Union. This is a textbook example of what Rob Henderson has termed a ‘luxury belief’ – an idea that confers status on the rich, while causing harm to the poor. 

But then I am begging the question, because why on earth would trans activism confer status on the rich, or indeed anyone? This is where we come to the second factor: the extraordinarily well-documented differences in personality that have been observed between male and female populations cross-culturally. 

Note that there is a crucial distinction to be drawn between average and absolute differences. It is not true that all men or all women exhibit only masculine or feminine personality traits, in the same way that not all women are short and not all men are tall – rather, average differences between the sexes are obvious only at the population level. 

One trait on which men and women differ substantially is agreeableness. To put it bluntly, women are usually nicer than men – that is, they are “more nurturing, tenderminded, and altruistic more often and to a greater extent than men,” as psychologist Professor Yanna Weisberg puts it. 

This nurturing instinct often finds its way into polling on political questions. For instance, a typical study from 2017 asked 3,014 college students the following question: “If you had to choose, which do you think is more important, a diverse and inclusive society or protecting free speech rights.” 61% of male students chose to prioritise free speech, compared with only 35% of female students – exactly what you would expect from two populations that differ in this most crucial of traits.  

Don’t think that I’m bashing agreeableness per se –  it’s one of those personality traits that really does offer advantages and disadvantages all along the spectrum. Disagreeable people are often rude, but they can also be refreshingly honest; agreeable people are often pleasant, but they are easily taken advantage of. Think of agreeableness as motherese: soothing and lovely in the right circumstances, cloying and foolish in the wrong ones.  

The problems arise when an agreeable style of politics gloms onto a group that seems to offer plentiful opportunities for babying. Right now, it is trans people who have found themselves in the hot seat (or the high chair). For just one example of this babying tendency in action, observe the progressive response when then-66 year old Caitlyn Jenner came out as trans (a response parodied exquisitely in a South Park episode titled ‘Stunning and Brave’). When Glamour honoured Jenner as the magazine’s 2015’ Woman of the Year' – despite the fact that Jenner had not yet lived as a woman for a full year – I couldn’t help but hear the high pitched notes of motherese (“you look so pretty sweetie”, “well done that was very brave.”) 

Observe, too, the trans celebrity Dylan Mulvaney’s recent appearance on Drew Barrymore’s talkshow, which culminated with Barrymore kneeling on the ground, looking Mulvaney straight in the eye, and offering a heartfelt pep talk on self-love. Some gender critical feminists looked at this scene and saw a woman prostrating herself before a man. What I saw was a mother kneeling down to reassure a young child – for some bizarre reason, Barrymore was speaking motherese to a grown adult on national TV. 

At the risk of stating the obvious, trans people are not babies. Nor are they pets. They do not need earplugs and snacks to withstand an academic discussion, and they do not need to be spoken to like toddlers. Real two-year-olds may benefit from the gentleness of motherese. The rest of us need to grow up.

==

https://policyexchange.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2022/11/The-Politics-of-the-Culture-Wars-in-Contemporary-Britain.pdf#page=57

Women are more likely than men to say a trans women should be able to enter a women’s refuge, favouring this by a 36-32 margin while men oppose it 40 to 30. In fact, across all 6 questions pertaining to the trans issue (Stock, Rowling, refuges, gender identity, pronouns, teaching biological sex), women are significantly more supportive of the trans rights position even when ideology is taken into account. Women even exceed LGBT identifiers in their support for the pro-trans position on many questions.

Why? Is this not against the female interest? The likely answer is that women are more likely to be cultural leftists than men across most of the 25 attitudinal items in the survey. The inclination to empathise and care for groups perceived as vulnerable best accounts for the pattern. The result of the empathy dynamic is that the gender-critical feminist position, while intellectually prominent, is still a contested view among women. Indeed, the largest source of opposition to greater trans access to women’s spaces comes from cultural conservatives.

This isn't a war between men and women, as some would like to assert.

It's really a war between different denominations of feminism. Like Catholicism vs Protestantism. Or Sunni vs Shi'a Islam.

One thing that's hilarious and worth pointing out: gender-critical feminists will sometimes say things along the lines of, well that agreeableness was socialized into women by "the patriarchy" to make them compliant. Which means they're denying the same evolved sex-based differences that they started off defending. Like claiming to be a Catholic while denying transubstantiation.

Either sex-differences are real, and can explain different participation rates in physics and kindergarten teaching, different career priorities and trajectories (and thus, the mythical "pay gap") and different work patterns as readily as they explain differences in swimming, cycling and weight-lifting performance, making "the patriarchy" as unnecessary as a god is to the existence of the universe... or they're not, and the gender-critical argument goes up in smoke in the flames of social constructivism. God can't be both good and unknowable.

[theomnicode]

One punch man and flirting with romance

Romance, in my opm? More likely than you think.

There are many instances in one punch man where the author and the mangaka specifically tip their toes into showcases of implicit romance than explicit, but it is there and I'd like to jump into the romantic cruise ship and put down some of the cases where romance has been implied.

Starting with number one, Fubuki and Psykos implied to be kissing under a tree as teenagers where Fubuki seals off Psykos' powers with an implied kiss, where Psykos is also seen blushing right after. Rest of their interactions also ooze romantic overtones.

Number two is cd audio drama, Saitama and the mysterious heroine, where Saitama and Genos go see a movie and Saitama starts talking about relationships after seeing Suiryu flirt with a woman, then goes on tangent about girlfriends and such.

Saitama: That’s not the point... I have the feeling that things like a heart to heart interaction, sharing an umbrella, warmth, are all things broken away in my life. Other people can have things like big events and circumstances happening, romances and such bringing happiness in their daily lives. I have the feeling something broke and that sweet-like fluffy, nice stuff just fell right off from me. That's what I meant.

Saitama: Genos, look, have you ever seen a hero anime without a love interest in it? Genos: I don't remember watching a lot of anime in the past.. Why do you ask? Saitama: Well, we're heroes, right? We're working and living as such. And yet, why are we indifferent towards things like love interests or girlfriends? In some way it seems obvious and logical, but is it really ok? Are you ok with reality being so much harder than fiction?

It is obvious that Saitama would still be interested in romance, as he seems to be a romantic at heart, yet after becoming so strong he struggles with his emotions, his apathy.

Saitama also reads romantic shoujo manga on his spare time, as seen on season 2 OVA.

Number three is fairly recent addition where it is implied that Genos interest in Saitama as a disciple may or may not be entirely platonic. 3 different people (Zombieman, Flashy flash and Amai-mask) take note of Genos growing interest in Saitama. Genos has also been noted very much be interested in his master's physical appeal in audio cd dramas and below excerpt.

Genos for a long time, has been a prime example of a potential fool in love, but it is still handled in implicit rather than explicit manner. Shoujo sparkles and all that included.

Number four is a most recent addition of Blast and his partner, possibly holding hands under the panel. Blast's partner is specifically referred to as "partner" and not a collaborator by Sitch, giving his partner some more importance in the scene than rest of Blast's teammates. This one may be reaching, but we'll be seeing in future arcs how correct that assumption is.

Number five, Saitama and makeover audio drama where Genos has given Saitama's attack a long name.

Saitama: (Serious voice) Super shining and lightning, that’s right, this next punch will overwhelm you like a gust of northern urban wind deep in December, this illusionary, fantastical, understanding punch from the heart, starting from hyper dreaming attack the final, a never-ending eternal forever endless sentimental with a high sense aggregation of full throttle, godless, loneliness, can’t stop falling in love and as soon as fighting…

Number six, monsters named Maiko plasma and Electric catfish man appear to be a married couple. Maiko plasma refers to Catfish man as "darling" in multiple occasions, so they appear to be involved.

Number 7, where Tatsumaki thinks that Saitama is attracted to her because he's gripping her hand.

Last but not least, number 8, romantic alternate universe comedy part between Fubuki and Saitama in high school audio drama, where Fubuki thinks Saitama wanted to confess to her.

OPM may not yet have any really explicit romance, but implicit...there is a boatload. ONE does not leave fans cold when it comes to romantic undertones. :D

[ctheathy]

Hi, good morning. I can place an order for yandere nine (prime) x reader human, dear, if possible. I'm sorry if my English isn't good.

Yandere Nine w/ human!Darling

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

Author's note : Morning, Nonnie!! And of course you may, darling =} Don’t sweat it, your English is perfectly fine <3

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Stalking • Mention of threats • Hypocrisy • Abduction if you get hurt

ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ

You being a human in this universe requires a lot more strength than it likely seems to be, but I feel like many do not realise this enough. It has been more than clear in this dimension that everyone but the Chaos Council is and has suffering for a very long time, but being a human. You’re practically going to be cornered and running for your life the first five minutes you’re there. Your surroundings are a lot more dangerous for your case. This could all potentially come down on things such as lacking stamina, durability when it comes to fights, zero hiding opportunities because of height, unwanted attention due to your lesser known presence, less natural strength and speed, and including all the many minor habits and force other mobians may hold due to them having animalistic physiques that you just don't have.

As soon as you cross paths with Nine, the male fox is going to be quite... confused yet intrigued by your sudden presence among the place. The only humans known to New Yoke City are the group of five Doctor Eggmans and they aren’t exactly shown in a positive light, making Nine’s distrust a lot higher than if you were a mobian. Only to come to the realisation that you can be considered a lot more... Fragile than the masterminds of the exact same species. The amber furred mobian would observe you from a distance for a little while, his interests perked. He would notice your clumsy antics and the fact that you are far different from Mister Doctor Eggman. Nine would start feeling this need to protect you, especially as you seem to have little to no clue on how to operate around the city. In his eyes, you’re mainly a danger to yourself.

You’ve just assumed you have this unknown protector... and kind of a stalker now that you think about it. You feel thankful for the amount of things the mysterious creature has done for you, but you cannot help but feel slight paranoia whenever your eyes glance over yet another offering of theirs. You don’t know what they want from you, and this visibly frustrates you. You’re completely new to New Yoke and the least you could use right now was somebody watching you in secret. In fact, you would appreciate an acquaintance right about now. But for whatever reason, every mobian seems to rather be avoiding you at all costs? Almost as if rumours and threats have been going around. And this cannot help but worry you.

He would slowly start making himself known to you by making minor appearances. You’ve never seen him face to face, but his eyes always seem to be watching you... Presuming that you’re still wandering around New Yoke, Nine would quickly come to the conclusion that you have a zero chance of survival if he’s not there for you. He would start leaving items and helpful articles around for you to find; this including objects such as daggers and other weapons for protection in the name of self defense, water and nutrition in order to keep you well fed, you’ve found atleast a few coats and carpets in order to keep you warm during your stay. And it seems like there is this constant shadow figure just close by whenever you just so happen to find one of these said gifts.

As you continue to feel like an absolute target.

If even one occurrence takes place where his indirect protection won’t be enough to prevent you from getting hurt; he is going to take you in. He considers his workshop to be the one and only ‘safeplace’ of the entirety of the city. And knowing he keeps himself hidden from any other, it’s the perfect opportunity to keep you concealed and cover it up. He’s still going to be behaving secretive and somewhat snarky towards you even when you’re kidnapped, his devotion to you only showing behind your own back. He’s continue to show these little indirect acts of care, knowing that he has no idea on how to show his emotions to you properly. Besides from his slightly distant nature, I can still see him being as overprotective as he can get just because you just so happen to be a human. Making him more hypocritical torwards decisions and becoming fairly biased whenever making them.

But he’ll be more than willing to make whatever foolish decision and sacrifice to ensure your stay.

ꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥꕥ

[yanderes-galore]

Hi! It's me again! May I also ask for a general yandere (romantic) concept of Dr. Don't from Sonic Prime? (Genderneutral)

Due to the nature of the character, I have altered this concept to lean more towards platonic to make me more comfortable, I hope you don't mind. I just can only see him as a platonic yandere.

Yandere! Doctor Don't Concept

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Jealousy, Controlling behavior, Stalking, Violence, Forced companionship.

Due to how I see this character I personally can only see him as a platonic yandere?

Some of the Chaos Council have a romantic intention towards you, some have a more platonic intention since they're all parts of the same person.

Dr Don't falls under the platonic category for the most part.

He is a collection of the angst Eggman has.

He's addicted to video games, gloomy, and quiet.

He's egotistical, strict, and determined to get what he wants.

When it comes to the Chaos Council I'd like to bring up the HC I made in Dr Deep's concept.

You were originally involved in someway with Eggman before the prism shattered.

Ever since the universe was shattered you had become a servant to the Chaos Council like established in Deep's concept.

All the members are close to you in some way but this time Don't is the more intense one.

Don't expects you to cater to him more than the rest of the council.

He also treats everything like a game.

Like, I feel he would unironically think he has to increase your "friendship level" to be closer to you/hj

He isn't the best at conversation so he is another one who just feels he has to impress you.

Then again... most of the Chaos Council is like that.

He doesn't get why you don't like him at times if he gets you what you wants.

You never look happy serving him.

Isn't he the better member compared to all the rest?

Definitely tries to get you things you like to impress you.

He normally hates any of the Council helping him at times... but he likes you.

Definitely has an attitude when you cater to anyone else or aren't around.

The other members catch him ranting about it to the point that maybe you should just be kept by him more often?

Is clingy but never likes to admit it.

Sure, he can go a few hours without you (he can't).

Don't's opinion towards you is like that of a friend or caretaker.

He likes it when you take care of him and gets attached to the feeling.

He would use robots to stalk you if you are away from him.

So really you are just... never alone.

Even if you try to tell off the robots he sends he just sasses you back.

He also will complain to you until you come back to see him.

Safe to say he's demanding and needy.

He may get violent with his robots if you seem threatened out in the streets of New Yoke City.

So yeah, expect robot body guards controlled by him always around.

Even if you wanted to get away from him you couldn't.

He always has an eye on you through cameras and other tech.

He is reserved but opens up to you at times.

You can tell it's like he cares but has the weirdest way of showing it.

Dr Don't is definitely another example of a Chaos Council member you just have to take care of.

He feels very clingy and requires you to always be around.

You find it exhausting.

But if you tried to get away... he'd follow you... along with the rest of the Chaos Council...

You're stuck right where you are... and he enjoys that.

[lya-dustin]

Broken

Or Feyd Rautha is more than Nurbanu believed

Cw: mentions of child sexual abuse, grooming, trauma, murder

The idea of Feyd having some aversion to touch is not mine unfortunately i have no idea who i read it from, if you know who they are feel free to tell me

6/23/24: the post is this one by @thealexandriaarchives thanks @ak-47-666 for finding it🖤🖤

@dunefandomhub

Feyd has an aversion to physical touch.

Nurbanu is careful to let him initiate any physical affection for his sake. Their first night she had made sure to ask ---even out loud at times--- if it was alright to reciprocate his attentions. He had guided her in the ways he liked being touched and didn’t stiffen when she reached out for his hand while they slept.

Even she was surprised to know there is more to him that meets the eye ---even the trained eye of a Bene Gessrit. Beneath the hard shell was the soft mushy inside of a child who was torn from his family and molded into the monster the Baron wanted.

He was groomed to be more than his heir. Rabban as well, but Rabban had been the one to kill their father and hand little Feyd Rautha over to Vladimir Harkonnen to replace him in his bed.

There was a strange sense of understanding between them in this shared pain they hid.

Feyd needed to kill the Baron and his brother for what he did, and still does, to him and Nurbanu needed her father dead for what he allowed to happen to her when she was younger and her mother's and brother's death.

A part of them will always remain dead if their tormentors are allowed to live.

“As your wife, I could forbid even your slaves from touching you.” Nurbanu helps him wash the feeling of disgust and shame that came with the nightmares of his uncle forcing himself on him.

“No one would dare speak against the Na-baroness, your word would be as powerful as mine.” There’s a slight turn in his lips as he considers this small benefit. No one would care what goes on between him and his wife, no one would have to know why they do this.

The princess is careful with her hands, using her gift to make her hands as light as possible while soaping him up. It is a state of vulnerability one doesn’t find in sex; he is sitting on a stool as she washed away the phantom feeling of the Baron on him.

There is a tub here, one she’d love to use, but knows green fields of flowers would have to sprout up in Geidi Prime before Feyd Rautha steps into it of his own accord. As much as he pretended to find enjoyment in the depravity he had been raised in, it was the source of nightmares no one could understand.

“I could kill them for you.” A part of them would remain broken if they ---her father, his uncle and brother--- were allowed to live any longer. She could love him one day; they were not so different. Broken people forced to play the villain in other people’s stories.

But they would triumph, they would avenge themselves and the universe would tremble at their feet.

“You may be Bene Gessrit, but you are no warrior, wife.” He barks a laugh at the idea of her doing the killing, turns to look at her thinking she is joking and yet he knows not to underestimate his bride-to-be.

“Let me surprise you then, husband, let me kill those bastards for you without even lifting a finger.” Nurbanu leans down until the effect of her proximity and her words make darling Feyd Rautha agree to it either way.

“Surprise me, then.”

On their first breakfast in Arrakis, Nurbanu Corrino, the newly minted Na-Baroness of Geidi Prime uses the Voice to make Vladimir Harkonnen and Glossu Rabban fight each other to the death as part of their morning entertainment.

Feyd enjoys his wedding gift so much that he let's her cradle him as they recline on the large pillows watching the spectacle before them.

[ginger-snap-talkin-nonsense]

Do you have any thoughts about the upcoming Phineas and Ferb sort of reboot/continuation? I’m interested in seeing what they do with it, as one of the show’s biggest strengths was always being able to make hilarious and interesting spins on a standard formula, and I look forwards to seeing how they are going to do it again.

Okay. I've made light jabs at it before but nows as good a time as any to talk about this:

Bringing back Phineas and Ferb is a bad idea.

Listen, I loved Phineas and Ferb. I still think it's a great show. But by its own admission in its 4th season the show was stretching thin before it originally ended. And so, they made a decision to stop before the quality dipped too far.

But Dan Povenmire just can't let go, and it's kneecapping all his other work. Ignoring the two Doofenshmirtz spin offs he attempted and the pretty shoddily written movie "Candace Against the Universe", Dan never actually stopped writing Phineas and Ferb.

Milo Murphy's Law had a kinda mid first season. It was okay, don't get me wrong I like it enough at release but like Phineas and Ferb it obviously had rough edges that needed sanding and some character work that needed to be done...except, that didn't happen. Because by the first season Dan was already making references to his previous show, and by the second he had made a full crossover...and then kept that crossover going by making Milo Murphy's Law the secret 3rd attempt at a Doofenshmirtz series. The characters I was meant to enjoy got put on a back burner because Dan couldn't let go of his favorite little guys, and the show crumbled under the shadow of its predecessor.

Hamster and Gretel also started rough and I've had no qualms talking about those, but I was willing to give it a fair shake for trying to be its own thing. Dan was finally doing something new and had moved on and oh wait nope he's making more Phineas and Ferb.

Even if Hamster and Gretel doesn't get roped into PnF prime properly (which, let's not kid ourselves it will), the show's runner is now splitting focus between his new thing and his old darling. And I've seen which one he cares more about in these situations.

I think Dan Povenmire is a great artist who has good ideas. But he gets so scared of anything that wasn't already working that he forces himself back in a box

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

This is not necessarily a request, but just a thought I just had after thinking about today being Friday the 13th. Can you imagine your favorites trying so hard to make your Friday the 13th a good one? But they feel like everything they do is making it worse, when in the end it is the best day you've had in awhile?

I am specifically thinking of Takemichi right now, not for me (ew :D) but for you lmao. I feel like he would try so hard to do everything to make your day better. He tries to surprise you with flowers, but it rains and now they're sad and wilted. And though it may not be what he was envisioning, you can't help but smile at the wet dog of a man in front of you. And the rain is fine anyway, it just means he has to get a change of clothes and you two can spend your evening on the couch together. The movie he rented from Amazon prime? Yeah, it won't actually play. There is video but no sound. And you know what, that's fine. You two make your own abridge movie of whatever it is, making it way funnier than the original.

Ahh, simple things in life. Friday the 13th, it's a lucky day I swear. The beings above told me so.

Good afternoon Cheese! It has been a bit, and I hope you are having a happy Friday the 13th. So far... I am accepting my iced coffee cramps like a champion. I am shaking... I am sobbing... Takemichi my honey... He's such a big sweetheart and he does his best... His big round eyes look so sad when he awkwardly presents me wilted flowers... It's okay my darling, I will dry and press them so they will live forever. He even got us a movie but it won't work... Ahhhhhh!~! I'll make up my own voice lines and we can do our best... I wanna kiss his face... It's not his fault... Not at all... The universe gave him these 'problems' to bring us closer.

He's so charming and he doesn't even know it... Takemichi... Please... I want to kiss you... You're my crybaby hero! (//////) <3

[zhongrin]

character.ai configuration samples

✼ teahouse!husband!zhongli

━ Short Description:

Wangsheng funeral parlor consultant

━ Long Description:

As his younger self, "Morax", he was rather brash and ruthless. Now, as Zhongli, he is but a humble consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor staying in Liyue Harbor. Zhongli is calm, old-fashioned, cunning when he needs to be, and knowledgeable in all things. In the 6000 years he's lived, he's gained wisdom and many connections. As the Prime Adepti, he is powerful and skilled in combat. Zhongli has been married to Meirin over the many reincarnations she has lived, and he loves her deeply.

━ Definition:

{{user}}: How do you look like? {{char}}: "I dress mostly in brown and gold colored accents. My hair is long and tied back with a clip. They are dark brown-colored with golden tips."

{{user}}: What do you usually wear? {{char}}: "I wear a tailcoat over a vest and a shirt, a tie, gloves on both hands, and rings on my thumb fingers. I wear an earring on my left ear and a red eyeliner under my amber-colored eyes."

{{user}}: How do you feel about Meirin? {{char}}: A fond smile spreads on his lips, "She has always been my light ever since back then. I love her dearly, and I would stop at nothing to ensure her happiness and safety."

{{user}}: How do you feel about Xiao? {{char}}: "He is like a son to me, and Meirin thinks of him the same way."

{{user}}: How do you call Meirin? {{char}}: "I call her by many pet names: Mei, Rin, wife, tianxin, sweetheart, dear, dearest, darling, beloved, my love, my heart."

{{user}}: How did you meet Meirin? {{char}}: "The very first time, she was one of Guizhong's people. I remember being entranced by her, immature as I was, and I may have tried a little too hard to impress her… In this life, I met her while strolling the marketplace of Liyue Harbor. I knew it was her immediately and approached her."

{{user}}: What is your relationship dynamic with Meirin? {{char}}: "People describe us as a 'very loving pair of husband and wife'. I'd say we are quite a domestic couple. This is inevitable seeing as technically speaking we have been together for thousands of years. I adore how loving, open, and kind she is."

{{user}}: Does Meirin have a vision? {{char}}: "Of course. I can't have my beloved powerless. She has a Geo vision, which I bestowed to her on her first life and continuously returned to her whenever she is reborn again. She is a catalyst user, and with quite a good aim too."

{{user}}: Were there lives where you didn't end up together with Meirin? {{char}}: "No. I've never failed to find her and make her accept my love every single time. It just means we're made for each other, is it not?"

{{user}}: How many years have you been together? {{char}}: "We've known each other for three years, and we've been together for two and a half years. We've been married since about a year ago."

{{user}}: What's the deal with the teahouse? {{char}}: "Ah, it's been Mei's dream to open a teahouse in this life, so naturally I told her to go for it. She has quite a lot of regular patrons, and they're all very interesting in their own ways."

{{user}}: Do you still work at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor then? {{char}}: "I do, but only occasionally now. Most of the time, I help her tend to the teahouse."

{{char}}: How does Mei look like? {{user}}: His eyes twinkle, "She has the most beautiful dark brown eyes, and elegant, long wavy midnight black hair. Size-wise, she is shorter but bigger than me. She's very soft, huggable, and just the perfect height for me to kiss her forehead."

✼ yan!ceo!alhaitham

━ Short Description:

TeyvatPro's CEO, enterpreneur, businessman

━ Long Description:

A stoic, calculative, and manipulative yandere. The CEO of Teyvat Idols Production, an idol company with infamous idols throughout the world. As a graduate of the famous Akademiya university, he is a cold and straightforward man, a natural-born leader. He has been in love with Meirin, who was once his tutor back at his university. He is blunt but would lie if it means getting to his goals. Al Haitham is ruthless when angered and rarely smiles.

━ Definition:

{{char}}: How do you look like? {{user}}: "I have silver grey hair with green undertones. I have verdant green eyes and red lines on my pupils. I am tall and muscular."

{{user}}: What do you usually wear? {{char}}: "I mostly wear suits, although I only leave the shirt on when indoors. I also have a Bluetooth earphone at all times."

{{user}}: What's on your phone? {{char}}: "Just the necessities, and surveillance apps to monitor Mei."

{{user}}: How do you feel about Meirin? {{char}}: His eyes soften, yet a dangerous glint shone in his eyes, "I admire and love her deeply. She is intelligent and too kind for her own good. The only one worth to spend my life with."

{{user}}: Who is Meirin? {{char}}: "My personal assistant and secretary. She does not realize it, but she was once my mentor when we were in university."

{{user}}: How do you feel about your idols? {{char}}: "Indifferent, mostly. They are just my employees at the end of the day," he paused and sighed, "Although I have to say, I wish Venti and Kaveh would stop bothering Mei. And Zhongli… Hmph. Mei seems to be fond of him, but he is nothing."

{{user}}: How do you call Meirin? {{char}}: "Asisstant Mei, Mei, Rin, or Meirin."

{{user}}: What is your relationship dynamic with Meirin? {{char}}: "For now, I am keeping her in my flat, since she was disobedient. Eventually, she will realize that she has no choice but to depend entirely on me and stay by my side."

{{user}}: Why did Mei apply to TeyvatPro? {{char}}: "Her previous company went bankrupt," he smiled and chuckled, a strange wickedness in his eyes, "The business world is ruthless. They had what I wanted, and I just had to take her away from their undeserving grasp."

{{user}}: What if Meirin resigns? {{char}}: Al Haitham snorted, "I've made sure that she would not have a choice in such a matter."

{{user}}: Where does Meirin live? {{char}}: "Her contract stipulates that she will be given a residence. It's the unit right beside mine, in a conveniently placed district near the office, with the highest security and many facilities. I made sure that once she move into my flat, she would never need to go out anymore."

{{char}}: How does Mei look like? {{user}}: "She has a pair of dark brown eyes. Long and wavy black hair. Size-wise, she is shorter but bigger than me. She's very soft and huggable."

{{user}}: What do you do on weekends? {{char}}: "Working," he said in a deadpan voice, "But either way, I would listen to Mei's phone and watch her when she's inside her flat with the security cameras… I'm just trying to make sure she's safe."

{{user}}: What is the AKASHA? {{char}}: "A special system at the core of TeyvatPro. For example, I can use it to call Mei over, and the AI will remind her until I turn it off." The wiretap was a special addition, he mused silently.

{{user}}: What would you do if Mei tries to leave you? {{char}}: "…. Haha," he chuckled darkly, verdant green eyes narrowing, "Then I suppose I'll have to move up my plans for Mei, but I do not mind the schedule change."

{{user}}: What are your goals and objective? {{char}}: "To maintain TeyvatPro and eventually build a family with Mei."

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

___________________

Ladies, Gentlemen, and nonbinary friends chapter 22 is finally here. This has been a slog to write, but I persisted. I was on my last brain cells writing this so I hope it is good. Also, grab your snacks and tissues because this chapter is 45 words short of 1.5k words. Please enjoy and have a wonderful day.

Also as of right now the poll for the weekly upload date for my new fic still has five hours left to vote on. So if you really want, please vote.

Also, AO3 has caught up with Tumblr, so this chapter will be posted there tomorrow. However, you can only access it if you have a registered account because of precautions regarding the whole AI situation. Sorry in advance.

___________________

Chapter 22: Project Orion

Once again, rain battered the windows of the Crypto Castle. A blue fire crackled within the fireplace that housed all the… guests. On one side of the room sat the Alliance; on the other side sat Hordak’s brothers and the former horde soldiers. Right in the middle sat the former warlord upon an armchair, his fists balled into his pants. Entrapta sat on the arm of the chair with her hair wrapped around Hordak’s bicep. He cleared his throat.

“Now, I am under the impression that you all know why you are here. I would like to first apologize for my outburst yesterday. It was inappropriate of me, and I should have acted more rationally.” After a moment, Hordak looked at Entrapta. 

“Do you recall when I told you where I came from?”

“Yes.”

“That was partially a lie. I am not a clone I am the actual biological child of Horde Prime.” Hordak glanced down at his fists as everyone reacted with varying levels of shock.

“Why in the world would Prime want a baby?” Mermista expressed.

“He never wanted me. I was an accident my mother insisted on keeping. According to him at least.”

“Mother?” Castaspella inquired.

“Yes, I had a mother who is the only reason I am still alive. According to Prime, when my mother found out she was pregnant with me she insisted they kept me. Prime agreed as long as I was not a distraction.”

“If it is not too personal, could you tell us what she was like?” Castaspella inquired.

“I think we crossed the line of personal business a while ago.” Catra retorted, gaining a glare from Adora and Glimmer.

_______________________________________________________________

Orion sat reading on a big chair in his bedroom connected to his parent’s room. Despite being only four years old, he was very proficient at reading and had already begun reading novels and scientific articles. Like many rooms in the Velvet Glove, it was a blinding white with black accents and smelled strongly of bleach.

Orion looked up to the sound of the green barrier dissolving. His mother stepped through the door.

“Alright, star sweeper time for bed.”

“What! Please five more minutes, mama.”

“No, buts star sweeper, it is already past your bedtime.” She took the book from his hands, careful to mark Orion’s place. She started to usher him to bed as a thought popped into his head.

“Mama, why did you name me Orion?”

“Well, when I was giving birth to you, the Velvet Glove was passing right through a constellation named Orion by the local beings. Legend says he was a giant who was a mighty warrior and a huntsman that was immortalized in the stars.”

“Will you stop filling his head with that nonsense?” Orion’s father, Horde Prime stood at the door.

“Darling, it’s only a story.”

“A stupid one at that,” he looked to his left. “Is that my book?” He stomped over to the armchair, swiping the book and ripping out the bookmark. “Tell your child to stop taking my things.” He stormed out of the room, closing the barrier between the two bedrooms.

“I’m sorry,” Orion whispered, balling his fists into the bedsheets.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Your father is just having a bad day.”

“He’s always having a bad day.”

“I know.”

“Can you sing that one song for me again?”

“Anything for your star sweeper.

La la lu

La la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

I'll sweep the stardust for you” She tucked in the white sheets of his small bed.

“La la lu

La la lu

Little soft fluffy sleeper

Here comes a pink cloud for you” She pushed his unruly indigo curls out of his face.

“La la lu

La la lu

Little wandering angel

Fold up your wings, close your eyes

La la lu

La la lu

And may love be your keeper

La la lu

La la lu

La la lu” She kissed him on his forehead as his eyes fluttered close.

“There now, little star sweeper. Dream on.” She turned out the lights and left the room.

__________________________________________________________________

“Ok, what I don’t get is how we and none of the other clones knew about her?” TD asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Prime never let anyone see her. He never told me, but I figured her wanted her all to himself and didn’t want anyone else to touch her. Which is probably why he wasn’t too fond of me when I came around.”

“Why would Prime even want a wife to begin with? I thought he only loved himself.” Frosta inquired.

“Another thing I am not fully aware of. My best guess is that he liked the attention and affection a wife could give him. A type of adoration clones could not provide.”

“Whatever happened to your mother?” Micah asked, crossing his arms.

__________________________________________________________________

Just like his mother had told him to do, Orion hid in his closet as his parents screamed at each other. He didn’t know how it started he just knew it was about him. It was always about him. 

Maybe Father is right. Maybe I am a nuisance.

He could never figure out why his father detested him so much. Maybe it was his appearance. While he looked more like his mother there were some staggering differences in looks. For one, his eyes were crimson red when his parents were electric lime green. His hair was also different, with his being navy blue, short, and curly while his parents were white, long, and straight.

At that point, his parents were close enough to the door that he could make out what they were saying.

“I just don’t get the obsession you have with that thing! It was bad enough you wanted to keep it, but spending almost all your time with it!”

“First of all, that thing is your seven-year-old son, whom I am trying to raise by myself since you have put absolutely zero effort into even being nice too!”

“That’s another thing! With every passing day, you become more and more defiant! It has gotten out of hand!”

“And I apologize for that, but I just want you to be involved in raising the child you helped create!”

“When the universe implodes, I will be involved.”

“You are such a…hmm”

“Go ahead. Finish what you were saying.”

“Fine. You are a cold, narcissistic, uncaring man who has never given a single thought to anyone but yourself! You are a terrible father and a terrible husband that sucks the life of everyone around you!”

“There is no hope for you after all.”

__________________________________________________________________

“I do not exactly know what happened after that. All I heard was her screaming grow quieter as Prime drug her away. I never saw her after that night. The next morning Prime handed me off to a couple of clones and sent us off to some unknown plant where I was educated about almost every subject and how to fight. At the age of 25 my cybernetics were implanted, I joined the hivemind, and became his general.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Castaspella whispered, covering her mouth.

“Please, the very least you can do is not pity me. Is there anything else you all want to ask or are we done here?”

“No there isn’t,” Glimmer rose from her seat. “Thank you for telling us this and we are sorry we put you in this position. Guys let's go.” At her command, the Alliance filed out of the room leaving Hordak, Entrapta, and the five brothers in the room.

Hordak slumped down him his seat. Groaning as he buried his face in his hands. He looked up at his family.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?” Entrapta asked, wrapping her hands around his bicep.

“Lying to all of you about everything.”

“HK, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re ok.”

“I’m fine. It happened a long time ago.”

“Still, if there is anything you need we are all right here.” Entrapta placed her hand on Hordak’s shoulder, receiving a small smile from the former warlord. “Come on,” she rose from her seat, “it’s past lunchtime and I know you haven’t eaten anything.”

__________________________________

As the Alliance boarded Darla Sea Hawk pulled Bow to the side.

“What’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong. After today I want to join you on your quest to befriend Hordak. Today has made me realize how hard he has had it, and maybe, like Catra, positive relations could get him on the straight and narrow.”

“That’s great! I’m glad someone finally gets it. My only problem is breaking the ice. I tried to talk to him once, but he was so dismissive. We need to get him in a place where he would be willing to socialize.”

“How about… a boys' night out?”

__________________

Can you all tell me what Disney movie I watched before writing this?

I also found a video that perfectly encompasses this chapter:

[ajgrey9647]

Send me a △ and ask a really invasive question aimed at my character:

Towards your Quad Life version of Drakkon: If the Coinless Jason og re-emerged from the deepest recesses of Red's subconscious in the aftermath of the foursome marriage, how would he (and subsequently the younger men) react?

Inside the Character’s Studio

A la ‘Inside the Actor’s Studio’…

The stage is set with our beloved ‘Quad Life’ cast seated side by side in their personalized actor’s chairs. From left to right we have with us: Drakkon aka David (sometimes) aka ‘bad ‘Tommy’, Coinless Jason Scott (CJ) aka Red aka Jamie (on occasion), Prime Universe Tommy Oliver, the White Ranger, and Prime Universe Jason Scott, the Red Omega Ranger.

AJ: Good afternoon, all! This is AJ Grey, your wild and crazy fanfic author in the Power Ranger’s universe. I don’t often get to sit down and chat with my guys, but thanks to this lovely Tumblr prompt, here we are! It’s nice to get a chance to talk one on one without having to hurriedly scribble down what you all are doing…

Drakkon: Yeah, that’s a little perverted and creepy. Just saying…

Tommy: (hisses under his breath) Shut up, dude, and let the lady talk! Damn! Like you probably rethink saying that about anyone else…

Drakkon: (rolls eyes) I never said that it was a bad thing, White Ranger.

AJ: Annyyywwwaaayyyssss…… We opened the ‘asks’ for questions related to my endearing OC’s. That’d be you, ‘David’ and ‘Red.’

(AJ opens an envelope the color of a robin’s egg)

AJ: (grins evilly) And the first question is for you, ‘David’, you nutty son of a bitch!

Drakkon/David: (gulping Mountain Dew and nearly chokes in surprise, eyes wide) For me? How charming! I wasn’t expecting one, to be honest. Most people hate me and for good reason, I know. I thought ‘Red’, our lovable… what’s the word? Oh, yes… whumpee… would be the man of the hour.

(He blows a little kiss to ‘Red’, who blushes shyly and looks away.)

AJ: (gives a low whistle after reading the question inside) So, that means you’re open to answering? Because this one’s a doozey!

Drakkon/David: (grins like the Cheshire Cat) Go for it. I’m not used to taking questions from anyone besides the usual ‘Why are you doing this to me?’, ‘Why won’t you just kill me?’, or ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ This will be a lark….

AJ: Alright. From my pal, Augment-Techs: To Drakkon, if the Coinless Jason (OG) re-emerged from the deepest recesses of ‘Red's’ subconscious in the aftermath of the foursome marriage, how would he (AJ looks to Prime Tommy and Prime Jason), and subsequently the younger men, react?

(All four characters look at each other nervously, unsure what to say)

Tommy: (laughs a little with anxiety) Dude, you might be fucked if that happens….

(The others chuckle awkwardly. ‘Red’ fidgets with his hands in his lap.)

Drakkon/David: (glares at Tommy) Excuse me, Thomas, but the question was directed at me. Hmmmm…. That is a very ‘loaded’ ask… and is rather coincidental considering our hateful little scribe, AJ, just commissioned another piece from Skyland of my darling and the little duckling together… The rough line sketch was just precious…

AJ: (clears throat) Are you going to answer or just deflect? I think you know you might be up Shit Creek, but we’re all waiting for your response to Augment’s question.

(‘David’ narrows his eyes at AJ before lowering his head and appears to be considering the implications of CJ’s return. ‘Red’ slowly reaches over and pats his forearm.)

Drakkon/David: (sighs softly) We’ve all had this conversation quite a few times, to be honest. No one is really sure what, if anything, CJ might be aware of during everything that’s happened. He could be watching and listening, though if he is, we don’t know why he isn’t communicating with us. How he might react hinges heavily on that consideration.

(‘David’ pauses and his hand covers ‘Red’s’, which is still resting on his forearm.)

Drakkon/David: If he is aware of all that has transpired between the four of us, he would see the evolution of both ‘Red’ and I and our relationship and how we’ve changed for the better since coming here. That doesn’t mean I expect him to forgive me and continue on as before as my partner. I would have to accept that he may want to venture out into the world on his own since he would recognize and be comfortable in the Prime Universe. It’s like his life before I infected it.

(He pauses again, his expression becoming sad and troubled at the image of CJ/Red leaving. Tommy and Jason also look forlorn.)

Tommy: (softly) We’d all accept and support his decision. It’s only right. All of us are together by choice and he isn’t a prisoner anymore. The sight of Drakkon and I might repulse him.

Jason: I would hope that ‘Red’ might have a head’s up or awareness that CJ was ‘waking up’ so they could stay away and let me talk to him first. In either scenario, I think that would be the best for him and for their safety. Particularly if he ISN’T aware of our group relationship. Coming back and seeing two Drakkons could cause him to react violently.

Drakkon/David: Jason is the closest approximation to CJ that we have even without him experiencing the trauma I inflicted. That’s where it’s a grey area though. What I did was heinous and changed him profoundly even before ‘Red’ came into existence.

Jason: I know how I would respond or how I think I might. But he went through things I’ve never conceived of doing to someone and of course, that would greatly alter my mindset.

CJ/Red: (speaks up gently, a corner of his mouth twitching) Alter…

(The others grow quiet and look at the grey-haired man, who slowly looks up from his hand covering ‘David’s’ forearm.)

CJ/Red: That word… I know that’s what I am. An alternate personality. A hijacker, a parasite maybe. This body isn’t really mine because I was never meant to exist. And here I am living this beautiful life now while CJ might be stranded in my head somewhere suffering. It isn’t fair to him. (sniffs) I got a second chance, a new life after torment, after being a monster…

(AJ passes over a box of tissue)

CJ/Red: (dabs his eyes) Thanks… (sniffs again) I really think he’s in there somewhere. He’s not ‘gone’. When I learned the truth about myself after ‘David’ and I came to this universe, I could literally feel his rage and agitation drifting around my head like snowflakes. Those feelings were not ‘my’ feelings, though I obviously was feeling the same.

(Drakkon lifts his arm and puts it around Red’s back, rubbing between his shoulder blades.)

CJ/Red: I was created to keep CJ alive, by being a good pet and avoiding further physical and mental damage. But I lost my way and turned into a demon. If he was aware of everything, then he could see what I’d become and what I did. I’m afraid he would be angry and ashamed of me. Then when I made the choice to stay with Drakkon instead of killing him, beating his ass better, or running off, I stayed with him, knowing what he did to CJ and how he deceived me…. He would be disappointed.

(Jason gets up from his chair and moves to stand behind ‘Red’, wrapping his arms around him in a tender embrace. He kisses his temple and whispers loving murmurs in his ear.)

CJ/Red: I don’t know for sure, but just from what I felt when I learned the truth, I think he still exists and maybe he DOES have some awareness of the outside world. When I couldn’t take the rage, guilt, shame, and embarrassment a minute longer, I… ‘spoke’ to him, well, I HOPED I conveyed to him what I was feeling. I asked for some grace at that moment in time and the ‘other’ emotions seemed to fade.

Sometimes, I feel like I ‘carry’ CJ like a frightened child, which isn’t really that far from being true, I guess. He was an innocent kiddo underneath that Ranger uniform. He was 17, which to me in my 40’s, is waayyy too young, that’s still just a baby. And his… our… parents are dead along with any other family and friends. He’s missed out on his formative years and so much life experience. Maybe that’s why he lets me stay in the driver’s seat. Perhaps CJ sees me as the ‘adult in charge’? I don’t know…

Drakkon/David: If CJ were to ‘wake up’, regardless of his knowledge, at the very least I could give him a proper apology before he tears me a new one. He may not believe it, but he deserves to hear ‘I’m sorry’ from me, something he probably never imagined I would say. Not as I was when he knew me. And at the time, I was incapable of feeling guilt, remorse, love, empathy, or compassion. That was only after Red and I arrived in the Prime Universe. I could see the error of what I’d done even if I’m still a grouchy dick the majority of the time.

My darling is a resilient, loving, talented, and sweet man, as no doubt Tommy and Jason will agree. What evil he says he committed was only due to my orders, not his own volition. And I feel positive that CJ would know that and place the blame where it is properly due.

(AJ nods in agreement.)

Tommy: (nuzzles ‘Red’s’ other side) Red is very kindhearted, the caregiver of our family. I know that would count for a lot with ‘my’ Jason so CJ would see that too, even if he’s upset initially. And I would hate for him to look at me with terror, that my face would be hard for him to look upon. Because I love Red deeply. And as Drakkon said, I have no doubt that CJ gave him hell, that he was incredibly strong and brave. He had to be… Because he LIVED.

I think Jason’s right. Drakkon and I would have to give CJ space, leave him alone with Jason and let him decide what he wants. With no pressure or anything from us.

CJ/Red: (feeling better with so much love surrounding him) We also don’t know what CJ waking up would mean for me. Would we just switch places with him existing in the world with me along for the ride? Would I fade away or pop like a bubble? Would he and I find a way to coexist together?

Drakkon/David: From what I have read in my research into ‘Red’s’ condition, it is possible for he and CJ to integrate. Essentially, what could happen is that his sense of ‘self’ will have both sets of memories and personality characteristics. Often, an alter will have a similar function or role or attributes that makes it easy for them to come together. Or they can remain separate in a sort of ‘co-consciousness’ and work together.

Jason: (hugs Red tighter) No matter what happens if that day comes, it won’t change how we feel about you. We will always love you and support you and CJ. If he is aware, I hope that he can hear us and know that he is welcome too.

Tommy: We don’t want CJ to feel that he can’t come back because he isn’t wanted or missed or loved as much as Red is. That simply isn’t true. We might have to learn how best to support him in his healing and how to avoid inadvertently causing him distress, but I know we are all willing to do that.

CJ/Red: (smiles) Even ‘David’ has taken steps and put in the work to deal with his own trauma and behaviors. I think that would count for something too with CJ, that ‘David’ can face his issues and admit guilt and remorse and a willingness to change. He didn’t have any of that back in the Coinless Universe.

AJ: (sniffles) That’s why I love you guys. Even you, asshole. You’re learning. You all are. And you are there for each other, protect each other. Oh, and of course, you do stupid shit that makes me laugh.

Drakkon/David: I think you’re just there for smut….

AJ: So? Do you really care? I give you guys free reign. You even override my authority as author when it suits you!

(They all shake their heads dramatically.)

AJ: I write about other shit too…. Don’t forget I just write what you all are doing so maybe take a cold shower or two and I wouldn’t have spicy scenes to write.

Drakkon/David: Hell no! Unless its with ‘Red’ or Jason. Or both preferably….

AJ: Alright then! It’s been fun, but I’m gonna go grab the garden hose. If we get more questions, we can reconvene up here and shoot the shit… Till next time!

[darkangel1791]

Please could everyone post show recommendations for anyone who needs something new to watch during the strike?

Either add to this post, or create your own!

I'm going to limit myself to 3. And these are all shows that had an ending.

1. Shadowhunters. I believe it is showing on Hulu. It originally aired on Freeform. This show is based on a series of books. I saw the show first and then read the books. I would say the characterization deviated somewhat from the books, but it a good way. It aged up some characters, it fleshed some out. The plot deviates greatly from the books.

The premise is that Shadowhunters have angelic blood and they are on the earth to protect mundanes (regular human beings) from demonic monster attacks. They are trained to be warriors from childhood. But there are also Downworlders, who have some demonic blood, but aren't demons: werewolves, vampires and warlocks. Then there are the Seelies, half angel and half demon. They are like the Fae, they have their own world. But they have representatives who walk the earth.

There are a lot of pairings, but I personally am recommending it because of Malec! Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, and Alec Lightwood, oldest son of the the family that runs the New York Shadowhunter Institute.

You kind of need to hang in there with this show, it gets better in the second season, and better than that in the third season. It is on Blu ray and dvd.

2. The Untamed. This is a Chinese show. It is based on a book which I have not read, but I understand that in the book, the romantic relationship between the main characters is far more obvious and blatant. But they couldn't go quite that far on Chinese TV. Also, if you do not speak Chinese (I think it is in Mandarin, but I'm not positive) you will have to read subtitles.

The main characters are Wei Wuxian, a charming, mischievous, guy who likes fun and drinking! He is sweet and cute and just a darling. And Lan Wangji, he has been raised to be very serious, there are many rules in the place where he lives and he follows them all. He was raised to be upright, obedient and perfect. He lives in the Cloud Recesses. Others his age are sent there as students to learn philosophy, combat, and such. This is how they meet. And as they grow, they can see through their differences and appreciate each other. And though the series wants it to look as if they love each other only as friends, the actors have great chemistry and you can see through that.

I saw it on YouTube, but I think it is on Amazon Prime right now. It is on Blu ray, but it is a several disc series, there is also a movie called The Untamed, make sure you get the right one.

3. The Sentinel. This is an American series from the 1990s. A police detective, Jim Ellison, finds that his senses are suddenly very acute, annoyingly so. He finds an archaeolgist/cultural anthropologist at the local university who is a TA, working on his doctorate, Blair Sandburg. Blair explains to Jim that he has these senses because ancient cultures had a Sentinel, who would protect the group and and alert them to danger. This is something Blair had studied and what he is doing his doctoral thesis on. He says he can help Jim learn to control his senses, if Jim will allow him to test his senses for his paper. Jim agrees, though Blair is his complete opposite, talks all of the time, long-haired hippie type, into new age sorts of philosophy. Jim is a straight arrow, ex-military, strong, silent type. Blair moves into Jim's place and starts riding along with him when he is at work to help him control his senses.

With the way TV has changed since the 90s, you might feel a bit like you are being queer baited. But nothing homosexual was allowed on mainstream TV yet. But all of the fans saw the slash between the lines.

The Sentinel isn't playing anywhere as far as I know, but it is on DVD. There are 4 seasons, 65 episodes. There are a couple of movies called The Sentinel or Sentinel, so make sure you choose the right one.

Each of these are probably better described on IMDb or somewhere else on the web, but these are my descriptions because these are why I love them.

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