#and frank is reintroduced

[oifaaa]

One thing I will always appreciate about Rick Riordan is that he does genuinely listen when fans criticise his work and tries to do better next time hes definitely not perfect but he tries

[thebreakfastgenie]

What actually makes Welcome to Korea so painful for me to watch isn’t Hawkeye missing Trapper it’s that Hawkeye blames himself for it because if he hadn’t been wasted and unreachable for days he would have known Trapper got his orders and made it back to see him. I empathize a little too much with that “if I had done one thing differently” feeling and those are the things I never get over.

[aseriesofunfortunatetexts]

Now, I don’t want to jinx it, but I’ve been writing for the first time in literal months. For this fandom. What I’m saying is the Frank/Jacques raffle fic might actually get finished after all? Maybe?? Several years too late, but they do say better late than never, right?

Again, I don’t wanna jinx it, but I’ve got 2000 words down in the last 24 hours, bringing the total up to 8,2K and we’ve reached the part of the fic that comes easiest to me: the smutty part. Writing smut is like riding a bicycle, you know? You never forget.

[sketchy-tour]

ALRIGHTY! Time to formally reintroduce yall to my silly idiot OC Dandy!

and by that I mean, I redid their ref art, tweaked their bio, and finally made a ref for their stupid pajamas! Wanted to do other fits for them but aa another time. Brain is mashed potatoes.

Anyway, Dandy is my silly WH oc who's main theme is self care/self love messages shown through the imagery of gardening! Meant to be a sort of "garden of the self" sort of deal. They go by ANY PRONOUNS! She/her or He/Him, or They/Them are all correct and okay to use when talking about them! (I just tend to default to they/them) Putting their full bio under the break!!! So you can read it all there!

"Resident gardener of Welcome Home, Dandy Leon is a curious but careful presence among the others in the neighborhood. They enjoy the quiet and spending their time tending to their various flowers. While a little shy around their fellow neighbors, they open up quickly when asked about their garden. Despite their more introverted disposition, they're always determined to make every day just dandy!"

It’s presumed that Dandy makes appearances only in the later episodes of the show’s run. But in old scripts found with them, it's shown that they moved to Home specifically because they were interested in the local plant life there. The episode that featured their move in seemed to focus on them slowly warming up to the others in the neighborhood, as their shy nature made it difficult for them to properly meet everyone. When asked as to where they lived before moving to Home, Dandy mentions living in a farm town far away, simply deeming it "far more south from here!" A lot of their dialogue also mentions their father, though he's never named but instead mentioned passively as Dandy would often use phrases like "Well it's like my pop always said-" when speaking to the other puppets.

During their short time on the show, Dandy's segments seemed focused on care for their garden, the language hinting that the flowers were more a metaphor for taking care of oneself and well being. Other characters can be found pointing out how much better Dandy’s garden looks when they’re feeling happy, but also comment how wilted it becomes when they’re shown to be a bit more downtrodden. They feel strongly about how important it is to be kind to yourself, even if it’s a skill they’re shown to still be working on themselves. Their confidence is something they also struggle with, seemingly a character meant for shyer audience members to attach to and grow alongside with. Dandy is often depicted in illustrations with Frank, getting along quite well in the show, often joining him and Julie on small escapades. Before the show's end however, most of Dandy's screen time is with Wally as he tries to get Dandy out of their shell more to spend time around others.

Interestingly, what pronouns were used for them seemed to change between the show's episodes and illustrated materials. While neighbors would refer to them as 'he' during the show, most art pieces seemed to refer to Dandy as a 'she'. Whether this was simply a miscommunication between teams or a printing error is unknown.

[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

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst, @gravesdiggergirl

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 💕

[office-anomaly]

Which voice actors have been your favorites for each member of the gang?

fred - there can only be the GOAT, frank welker daphne - grey delisle velma - mindy cohn is my favorite velma, but i also like OG nicole jaffe. kate micucci's performance in BCSD is something i also really love shaggy - this is too difficult because casey kasem is a legend, while matthew lillard really owned this character and reintroduced it to new generations of audiences scooby - ok...so my favorite movie has scott innes as scooby. but frank welker is too iconic as scooby for me to just not include as well

[pjoxreader]

Could I request Frank/Hazel/Percy with a reader who was formally part of Kronos’ side, survived the war, but was afraid to return to CHB? They ended up fleeing and arriving at camp Jupiter, much like Nico. They still have a grudge against the gods, but deeply regret everything that happened to CHB campers in the war. They fear they’re no better than Luke, and only first bring up their past after Percy’s memories start coming back, kinda too scared to confess about what had happened before. Hope this isnt too specific or anything!

Former Kronos’ Soldier Reader

((Love me some good angst that isn't too specific at all!))

Frank Zhang

-You thought you had finally made a new home in camp jupiter. Someplace where you could make up for the sins of your past but of course that would have been too good for someone like you. 

-Percy Jackson appeared at the river while you were on guard duty with Frank, thankfully he didn’t seem to recognize you and he didn’t have his memories… Thankfully…? Were you really glad someone that you used to consider your friend had lost his memories? 

-Frank had noticed your inner turmoil, he didn’t want to push you but seeing you upset had been hurting his heart too. He didn’t want you to go through this alone. “You can talk to me, you know?” Frank says softly. You would have never guessed someone that large could be that gentle, but you had gotten to know Frank well over the time you spent here. He was the kindest man you had ever met.

-You smile sadly knowing Frank must know you were upset these last few days. You look up at the night sky having been punished to night duty with Frank as well. Frank never questioned you once on your past, he knew it was a sensitive topic and you were very thankful for it. But it seems there was no more running from your past. You take a breath to ease your nerves. Frank may never look at you the same but it felt wrong to keep it from him… You… You had started to form feelings for him after all.

-”I… I’m not who you think I am. I… I used to be a horrible person. I… I worked with Kronos.” You explain. The air felt heavy with silence and your words started to spill out, all of your guilt spilling out like a river unleashed. “I… I hated the gods. I still do, but my anger clouded my judgment and I made an awful choice…” you explain sadly watching the night sky. “I believed I was in the right at the time but…” you take a shaky breath waiting for Frank to yell or leave but he doesn’t… You couldn’t bear to look at him right now… 

-Instead he gently takes your hand in his own. “That’s enough…” you look to the ground waiting for the words of anger to come out next but they don’t. He pulls you into a warm hug. You could feel the tears form at the corner of your eyes. “You thought you were doing what was right… I’m… I’m sorry there was no one there who was able to help you… But… I’m glad I got to meet you.” You realized he was right, if none of that happened you would have never gotten the chance to meet Frank. You hug him back tightly crying into his shoulder as he holds you close.

Hazel Levesque

-This was your new home, you thought you were finally able to start over and make up for your mistakes. Of course that would have been too good for someone like you. Percy Jackson had appeared in camp, much to your horror Hazel introduced you to him. The two of you had locked eyes and he offers a hand for you to shake. You reintroduce yourself to Percy seeing as he didn’t have any memories but your heart was pounding the entire time.

-All it would take is for Percy to get one spark of memories to ruin everything you had worked on but thankfully he didn’t. You sigh heavily in your barracks as you work on packing up in the middle of the night. You’d have to go off and try to find somewhere else to go… Maybe there was some other camp you’d be able to find. Part of you doubted you’d get that lucky again...

-”Are you really leaving?” a soft and sad voice calls to you. You turn feeling your heart drop as you turn seeing Hazel was at the door. She was the last person you wanted to see, it’d make it even harder to leave after seeing her face.

-”I… I don’t have a choice Hazel…” you take a breath closing your eyes. Maybe it’d be easier if she hated you, so you decide to tell the truth. “I… I can’t stay because Percy knows who I was. I… I was an awful person Hazel.” you sit down on the bed smoothing your hair back. Hazel comes over and sits beside you, waiting for you to go on.

-”I… I did awful things… I…. I was a part of Kronos's army… I… I hated the gods. No… I still do.” you explain clenching your fist into your pant legs. “I wanted revenge, but… I know now that I went about it the wrong way… But that doesn’t change what I did. Who I was…” Hazel gently takes your hands looking you in the eyes which surprised you.

-”You aren’t who you were before.” she reassures so sincerely it makes your heart skip a beat. “But…” you try but Hazel’s determination in her eyes makes you waiver. You take a shaky breath realizing you were tearing up. “You’ve been working so hard all this time… You don’t deserve all the pain you must be feeling… I’m… I’m so sorry I never noticed how much pain you were in…” she says and holds you close letting you cry into her, she shed a few tears as well.

Percy Jackson

-Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when you saw him. There he was with Hazel on the hill. A face you never hoped to see again. His eyes met yours and you could see his brows furrow as they did when he was thinking about something. Hazel smiles softly and waves you over so you force yourself to take those steps up to him. -”This is Percy Jackson, he just got here, he doesn’t have any memories…” Hazel explains. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you looked at Percy with a hesitant and nervous smile, offering your hand for him to shake.

-”It’s nice to meet you.” you force yourself to say hoping your palms weren’t sweating as much as you thought they were. Percy does take your hand and shakes it looking at you for a while. “You have beautiful eyes.”

-His words throw you for a loop as you look at Percy in surprise, even Hazel seems to be shocked. “H-Huh?” you manage to choke out. “Your eyes, they’re beautiful.” Percy repeats more sheepishly this time rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

-”T-Thank you?” you manage to get out swearing your voice raised at least three octaves. Hazel gives you a big grin but does have to lead Percy up so he gives you one last wave as the two leave you there frozen in fear. What were you doing…? You sigh heavily covering your face feeling it was hot, you must have been blushing hard.

-You can’t… You can’t fall for him again, there’s no way he’d ever feel the same about you… Once Percy got his memories back he’d hate you again… You couldn’t get your hopes up like that your entire world would come crashing down around you… Again… You take a breath trying to shove your feelings deep down into your heart, hopefully to never resurface again… But you give one last look to where Percy had gone before making your way back down the hill.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

[starg1rlblog]

᳝ ࣪ ♥︎ — You’re So Mean To Me

pairings: fem!reader x frank iero

warnings: 18+, nsfw, d/s dynamic, slight?dacryphilia, degradation, manhandling, spanking, fem!receiving

taboo content ahead! you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Frank had you bent over his lap while he sat firmly on the bed. Your skirt was pushed up to your waist and your panties were down to your ankles. This was humiliating; everything below your waist was exposed. Your boyfriend wound his hand up and smacked it against your ass. “You’ve been such a mouthy girl today,” Frank delivered another slap. “Why do you have to be like that, huh?” You had no response. All you could do was quietly whine to yourself as he showed you no remorse, smacking you with intent to leave marks.

Your ass was bright red with throbbing welts. You knew it would leave you sore for days with wild bruises. You pressed your face deep into the mattress to muffle your cries while Frank relentlessly slapped you. The harsh smacks sent you jolting forward but Frank held you tightly by the hip to keep you still.

Frank slapped your ass repetitively fast to watch your flesh recoil. He enjoyed the view but you, however, didn’t favor the pain. You thrashed and kicked around to show disapproval and as expected Frank didn’t take a liking to it. “Knock it off,” he demanded as he brought his palm against your ass with so much force your head shot up from the mattress to let out a broken sob, “oouchh!” You picked yourself up by your elbows to turn your head and face your boyfriend. Your bottom lip trembled with tears rolling down you flushed cheeks.

Frank felt his heart strings being tugged at the sight of you. Even then with salty tears falling down you were adorable to him. Frank rubbed your ass to soothe the ache, “m’awh, did that hurt?” He wore a prideful smile as he looked down mesmerized by the handprints he left on you. You were too dazed to make a coherente sentence. All you could muster up was a broken, “mm-hm.”

“That’s too bad.” His voice was laced with faux sympathy as he mimicked your sulk expression which only made you more upset. He leaned close, “Brats like you deserve it.”

You squinted your eyes shut letting fat tears stream down. “You’re so mean!” You yelped.

“I know.” He grinned before planting another smack on your raw flesh. Your legs buckled as you winced, “mm—aahh!” Your head fell down as you hands gripped the sheets. You could feel your cunt flutter at the pleasurable pain. Frank brought his hand away from your ass down between your inner thighs. He let his fingers rub across your folds and was enveloped with your wetness; it glossed over his fingers. “But you like it when I’m mean, don’t you?”

You shook your head and mumbled a no but you were lying. You did like it. You were lying poorly through your teeth and he knew that. “No? really?” Frank wondered. He let his fingers toy with the folds of your pussy.

Shaking your head you grumbled, “so mean.”

Frank gave you a quick swat to the ass. Taking you by surprise, you let out a soft moan. Frank snickered to himself letting his finger reintroduce themselves to your aching cunt. “I don’t believe you, baby.”

Frank dipped his fingers into you teasingly slow. You gasped at the stretch of his fingers inside you. Letting his fingers curl up to reach every inch of you. “God, I love this fucking pussy.” He groaned still playing with your slick, swollen cunt. He brought his palm against your pussy and smacked It. The wet gushing of your pussy being fucked by Frank’s fingers made his dick strain against his jeans. He watched you in complete awe. The way you dug your nails into the sheets, gripping tight to keep your soul from floating away from the pleasure. Your lips parting as soft mewls escaped you.

Frank snaked his hand around and squeezed your throat. You choked out a gasp as he brought you up close to his face, making your back arch. Still fucking your needy cunt hard with his fingers. “Look at you. Taking it like like a whore.” Your bottom lip quivered as you whimpered up at him. “Just admit it. you love it when i’m mean like this and i’ll let you cum.”

You were stubborn and didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Frank gripped tighter at your throat and let his fingers pace themselves slow. You looked up at your boyfriend and pouted, “don’t stop! please.”

“Then say it.” he demanded lowly. Frank released your throat quickly to slap you across the face. The impact caused your face to turn to the side as your cheek splotched red. He felt your cunt clench around his fingers from the pain. “C’mon, baby. say it.”

Unraveling in his grasp you couldn’t hold it back. You groaned and caved in. “i love it! i love it when you’re mean to me! please!” You pathetically admitted. “Just don’t stop, please.”

“That’s a good girl.” Frank was satisfied with your full submission and smiled. “Cum on my fingers, doll.”

[tsams-and-co-memes]

Frank is Pisces idea:

Imagine that if the theory is canon, gets revealed, and everyone gets used to it, Frank eventually decides to come up with a sort of new appearance. Or at least a new outfit.

Frank looks a lot like Moon to blend in, but now that their friends know the truth, they don’t really need to look like moon anymore. Or at least, they don’t need to copy his outfit anymore.

And it would still fit in with their disguise for the rest of the world, since animatronics can transfer to new bodies.

Maybe Frank’s new appearance looks like how they do now build wise, except with a new outfit and maybe a color change. Like a slightly different shade of blue, or maybe a new color pattern. Maybe they incorporate stars somewhere on their body. Or maybe incorporate fish on their outfit in a subtle way, like a pin or a embroidered patch.

I think they would keep the crescent moon face though. It fits them and their identity as Pisces.

Foxy made some comment about whatever Frank is, he could be simply inhabiting that body. In other words, it's possible that the body Frank walks around in is just a vessel of sorts

I'm waiting for someone to find Frank's body slouched over somewhere, then when they approach him, they see that the eyes are dark, and it's empty. The body is an empty shell now. Frank has emerged into his true self/true form, and he's just lurking around in the background, waiting to make his appearance and reintroduce himself to his friends, who are suddenly acting afraid of him for some lame reason

As far as a new outfit goes, it WOULD make a lot of sense to keep stars as part of the design. Sqarlet (a discord buddy) made a design for Frank's Pisces form that has the constellation of Pisces down the front of his abdomen, and while half of him is black and the other half is white (think a yin-yang look, almost), he also had some flowy silk pieces on his outfit too, which almost kinda sorta reminds me of water, whenever I see it

I so wish I could share her design of him, but I don't have her permission (yet) or her tumblr, assuming she has one, so I won't be doing that ^^" sadly

[mariacallous]

Congress may be closer than ever to passing a comprehensive data privacy framework after key House and Senate committee leaders released a new proposal on Sunday.

The bipartisan proposal, titled the American Privacy Rights Act, or APRA, would limit the types of consumer data that companies can collect, retain, and use, allowing solely what they’d need to operate their services. Users would also be allowed to opt out of targeted advertising, and have the ability to view, correct, delete, and download their data from online services. The proposal would also create a national registry of data brokers, and force those companies to allow users to opt out of having their data sold.

“This landmark legislation gives Americans the right to control where their information goes and who can sell it,” Cathy McMorris Rodgers, House Energy and Commerce Committee chair, said in a statement on Sunday. “It reins in Big Tech by prohibiting them from tracking, predicting, and manipulating people’s behaviors for profit without their knowledge and consent. Americans overwhelmingly want these rights, and they are looking to us, their elected representatives, to act.”

Congress has tried to put together a comprehensive federal law protecting user data for decades. Lawmakers have remained divided, though, on whether that legislation should prevent states from issuing tougher rules, and whether to allow a “private right of action” that would enable people to sue companies in response to privacy violations.

In an interview with The Spokesman Review on Sunday, McMorris Rodgers claimed that the draft’s language is stronger than any active laws, seemingly as an attempt to assuage the concerns of Democrats who have long fought attempts to preempt preexisting state-level protections. APRA does allow states to pass their own privacy laws related to civil rights and consumer protections, among other exceptions.

In the previous session of Congress, the leaders of the House Energy and Commerce Committees brokered a deal with Roger Wicker, the top Republican on the Senate Commerce Committee, on a bill that would preempt state laws with the exception of the California Consumer Privacy Act and the Biometric Information Privacy Act of Illinois. That measure, titled the American Data Privacy and Protection Act, also created a weaker private right of action than most Democrats were willing to support. Maria Cantwell, Senate Commerce Committee chair, refused to support the measure, instead circulating her own draft legislation. The ADPPA hasn’t been reintroduced, but APRA was designed as a compromise.

“I think we have threaded a very important needle here,” Cantwell told The Spokesman Review. “We are preserving those standards that California and Illinois and Washington have.”

APRA includes language from California’s landmark privacy law allowing people to sue companies when they are harmed by a data breach. It also provides the Federal Trade Commission, state attorneys general, and private citizens the authority to sue companies when they violate the law.

The categories of data that would be impacted by APRA include certain categories of ��information that identifies or is linked or reasonably linkable to an individual or device,” according to a Senate Commerce Committee summary of the legislation. Small businesses—those with $40 million or less in annual revenue and limited data collection—would be exempt under APRA, with enforcement focused on businesses with $250 million or more in yearly revenue. Governments and “entities working on behalf of governments” are excluded under the bill, as are the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children and, apart from certain cybersecurity provisions, “fraud-fighting” nonprofits.

Frank Pallone, the top Democrat on the House Energy and Commerce Committee, called the draft “very strong” in a Sunday statement, but said he wanted to “strengthen” it with tighter child safety provisions.

Still, it remains unclear whether APRA will receive the necessary support for approval. On Sunday, committee aids said that conversations on other lawmakers signing onto the legislation are ongoing. The current proposal is a “discussion draft”; while there’s no official date for introducing a bill, Cantwell and McMorris Rodgers will likely shop around the text to colleagues for feedback over the coming weeks, and plan to send it to committees this month.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Another Day in Paradise

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Ship: Joel Miller x you (cishet f reader)

Tags/warnings: PiV sex but nothing super explicit. Mention of the hardships of pandemic life. Kind of angsty? Possibly a little spoilery for episode 3 of season 1, if you haven't seen it yet!

Summary: What if you and Joel lived down the street from Bill and Frank and didn't have to fight for survival anymore?

Words: 1,748

The morning sunshine filters through the lace curtain from another time, another world, rendering the light soft and lazy. You smile to yourself as you blink against it, your body slowly awakening to a new day. It’s going to be a sunny, beautiful one, but as you tick off today’s to do list in your head, you realize that you’re getting ahead of yourself.

Turning your head, you find Joel already awake and looking back at you. It still throws you to see this grizzled, lethal man soft and relaxed, with a smile on his face, his eyes shining with love for you. As soon as you get up and leave your house for breakfast with Bill and Frank, his walls are going to go up again. He’ll scowl at Bill but go with him to repair the perimeter fence because, quote him and Bill: ”you two suck at repairs”. You and Frank are in charge of the domestic stuff, which is probably sexist as hell but simple truth is that you love it that you don’t have to work until your body is aching, constantly looking over your shoulder, always wondering where your next meal will come from. Frank has reintroduced you to the gentle side of life: flowers, vegetable beds, art, books, leisure. And you’re doing your best to convince Joel about these things.

Joel, on the other hand, is the direct opposite of you. He’s a builder, a protector, someone who deals with the hardships of life by making himself harder. When Bill and Frank invited you to come and live on their street, Joel was adamantly against it. For the life of you, you could not understand it.

”It’s a chance to have a normal life again!”

”There is nothing normal about life anymore!”

In the end, he came with you, but only when you, with tears in your eyes, told him that you were going by yourself, if not with him.

”I am tired of surviving, Joel. I want to live.”

So here you are, Joel still wary and constantly thinking of potential threats, you loving life like the pandemic never happened. It’s only early in the morning, in thoughtless moments like these, that he gets naked for you – literally and figuratively. His broad, hardened body is buck naked under the sheets, and his face is stripped of years of anguish.

”Good morning,” he whispers to you now, cupping your cheek as he leans in for a light kiss.

”Mmmorning…” you murmur against his lips, lazily raising your hand to trace your fingers over his salt and pepper beard. You still feel the burn of the pin prick bristles on the soft skin of your upper inner thighs.

”You look beautiful.” He kisses your forehead, his hand softly slipping down to your neck, then your chest, before diving underneath the covers and finding a breast.

”So do you.”

”Guys aren’t beautiful.”

”You are.”

He scoffs tenderly before slowly pulling down the covers to expose your chest to the morning light. You hum as he traces circles around the soft flesh of first one of your tits, then the other, his eyes fixed on your hardening nipples. The circles grow smaller and smaller the higher up your tit his fingers climb, and when he reaches your nipple, he ducks down to lick it into his mouth, lick and play until sucking hard, making you arch your back and moan out loud.

”Joel…!”

”Hush…”

He makes love to you, tenderly, slowly, taking his time to kiss you all over, letting you touch him in turn, like he never did before you came here to your shared paradise. When he slides into you, it’s not frantic and rushed, always thinking of the dangers around you. No, now it’s unhurried and easy. He laughs when you tickle his sides, or when your teeth collide as you kiss. He lets you thread your fingers through his hair, and he moves in you like his only responsibility in the world is your pleasure. You are free to moan loudly, he does not have to cover your mouth. He whispers sweet words into your ear, his voice strained from how good you feel, not from how much his body is hurting trying to be quick about it. He tells you he loves you when you cum on his cock. He tells you the same again when he cums, and he stays inside you until his softening cocks slips out of you, his seed seeping out in its wake. He slumbers with you in his arms, all relaxed and happy.

Eventually, you kiss him awake, reminding him of the breakfast you’re having with the guys.

”Got my breakfast right here,” he protests in a playful growl, burying his face against your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You giggle and push him away from you, pretend wrestling his much stronger body until he yields and pulls you on top of him.

”Can’t wait for tonight,” he tells you with a happy sigh. ”I love you.”

”I love you too,” you assure him, bending down to kiss him one last time before you get up.

There is hot water, but you shower very quickly because there is hot water every day. Laughing, you try to push Joel away when he joins you in the tub, his cock already half hard at the mere sight of you.

”We’re going to be late!”

He wraps his arms around you. ”What’s the rush?”

”Maybe I want to keep you yearning until tonight?” you wink at him before succumbing to a quickie. You are relaxed enough to cum even then. Your brain is no longer in catastrophe mode.

Bill and Frank await you with a gorgeous breakfast in their garden, and after having eaten, Joel and Bill head out for the day’s work. Always vigilant in the company of others, Joel pulls you to the side for his daily dose of admonishions.

”Keep your walkie on you at all times,” he tells you in a low and serious voice. His eyes have that glint of danger again: the only way he knows how to be around others. ”If anything at all happens, if you see anyone, hear anything on the radio, you let me know. You got that?”

”Yes, Joel,” you nod, knowing better than to joke around now. ”I promise.”

He’s wearing that frown again, the frown he dons every time he leaves the house, and you trace your finger along the lines.

”I’m serious,” he points out.

”I am, too,” you assure him. ”You keep forgetting that I was out there for as long as you. I know the drill.”

He swallows then, and bares you a little of his true self through a tiny crack.

”If anything happens to you…”

”Nothing is going to happen to me,” you tell him immediately. ”I am safe here, Joel. We are safe.”

In the corner of your eye, you see Bill kiss Frank before moving towards the garage. You give Joel a nudge.

”Bill’s ready to go. I’ll see you at lunch.”

He kisses you then, a full on, possessive yet longing kiss, lets his lips linger on yours before whispering a Love you, then leaving, quickly, like he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a few hours.

He and Bill depart in Bill’s truck, and you and Frank spend the rest of the morning doing your chores together: looking over the shops in town, tending to your gardens, then cooking lunch for when your men return. You don’t always spend the days together like this; sometimes, you can go for days only waving to each other at a distance. But you both enjoy this, you love spending time with another person who understands the beauty of an ordinary life, who will talk to you about the finer things in life, who understands what it’s like to live with a man so driven by purpose.

Joel and Bill return for lunch. Had this been a day spent apart from your neighbors, you and Joel might have taken the opportunity to retire to the bedroom for an hour before heading out for the afternoon’s chores. Now, you all eat, Joel looking a little less tense when he sees that you’re okay, and he and Bill return to their work.

They return along with the setting sun to the dinner that you and Frank prepared. You eat outside, surrounded by fairy string lights powered by the gas generator. You drink wine, you eat rabbit and fresh vegetables, you reminisce, you laugh. Joel is still not fully relaxed in the presence of the two men, but he does smile and participate in the conversation.

When you take your leave and slowly walk down the dark street to your own house, he has his arm around you to keep you warm. You share a hot shower before retiring to bed. You make love, a little more intensely now than in the morning, but still playful and without hurry. Before you fall asleep in each other arms, you speak in secret whispers about your dreams, the dreams you killed years ago but that have risen from the ashes of your former life, still brittle but growing stronger every day in this new life, your third life, hopefully your final life.

You sleep safely in each other’s arms without the help of drugs, and nothing hurts.

You jerk awake when Joel says your name. Your eyes are itchy, your whole body is itchy from dried sweat and grime. And yet you are wide awake and standing up in two seconds, ignoring the fact that you are chilled to the bone. The world around you is dark and destroyed, and Joel tosses you a rifle without looking at you twice. His face is stony, his body language curt and closed.

”FEDRA?” you ask. Joel has been monitoring the radio while you caught a few minutes of shut-eye. He nods, and you nod back. You need to get moving, and fast, yet carefully. If FEDRA agents discover you outside the QZ, you’ll be shot on the spot. If they don’t, there’s still the risk of being caught by infected. There are streets full of them just one block away, and all they need is a signal.

Joel moves out of your hiding-place on soft feet. You follow, vigilant as ever, your dream of a life in the sun forgotten.

[brw]

What drew you to Beast as a character? As someone who's been into various X-Men through the years, he's been on the periphery for me until very recently, so I'm interested in hearing from someone who's been a fan for (what seems to be) a while.

Oooh so to be completely honest I didn't get into Hank proper until I became focused on Wonder Man. I always sort of appreciated Hank, but I think I found it easy to take him and his place in the X-Men for granted. He's almost always there, because he's such a staple character of the team, so it was easy for me to be like oh, there's Beast! My friend Hank! But not actually think much about him. I remember sort of accidentally reading some solo comics he was in (there was this X-Men Unlimited issue I read where he and Kitty go to the opera I remember very clearly), and I enjoyed those but I never purposefully sought him. He seemed fun but at that point I was already quite attached to Hank Pym and Reed Richards and I figured he'd be like Bruce Banner to me, where I liked them but never enough to seek out their comics.

This changed when I became really interested in Wonder Man, both because those two are best friends and you can't read Wonder Man without greeting Beast, but also because Simon really does love Hank as a person and you kind of start to appreciate what Simon seeks in Hank as his friend. I knew in abstract that Hank McCoy was a kind person who wanted to be there for his friends, whose character bit was that he looks like a scary cat-ape but actually speaks like an English professor, who despite appearances is a romantic, a comedian, a scientist and a very loving person, but it was different seeing those traits play such a fundamental part in Simon's character trajectory. Simon really needed a friend like Hank when he was reintroduced into the comic canon, and interestingly Hank really needed a friend like Simon for where he was at in the Avengers. It was just really interesting seeing these two get closer and closer, from stout friends to low-key (high-key) a gay love story compounded by the fact they were an actual item in an au. And when you read Hank McCoy as a very repressed bisexual man, who is scared of ever acknowledging this part of him because of his own unexamined fear of himself because of his animal nature and features, who is in love with his equally repressed gay friend... well, that's just an interesting character!

I don't necessarily think I wouldn't have gotten into Hank without Simon, because he more than stands up as a character in his own right, but I think Simon really got me to see Hank in a new light because of how important he is as a person in Simon's life. He is without a doubt one half of the most healthiest, happiest, most stable relationship in Simon's entire character history. Which isn't to say they're necessarily a healthy and stable dynamic in of themselves (Hank has a very rose tinted glasses perspective on Simon, unable to acknowledge the edgier sides of him, and Simon in turn for better or for worst always sees the best in Hank even when sometimes he shouldn't), but both Simon and Hank have such messed up relationships with so many of the people around them that when they're around each other it's somehow the best relationship of their lives.

Anyway, there are a lot of things I like Hank for. He's misunderstood, both out of universe and in universe. He's someone hopelessly dedicated to his loved ones, often at the expense of his own happiness and wellbeing. He's brutally aware of the fact that he's wasting his life for the X-Men, for their lives and what keeps them alive and happy, and both resents them for taking up so much of his time but resents himself too, for thinking that way about the people that gave him so much. He sings Frank Sinatra in the bathroom and enjoys French cinema. He doesn't know left from right. The one thing in the world he's most scared of is becoming the animal the world sees him as, becoming the animal he thinks he might be underneath all his diplomas and achievements. He flew all the way from Scotland when he heard his best friend was alive on a one way ticket and bought red roses to match his eyes for the occasion. He loves his parents and he has an undiagnosed mood disorder. He's a strange blue man and I love him!

[angstics]

my chemical romance has always been a band about death. bullets' bonnie and clyde, three cheers' resurrection-rampage plot, black parade's dying main character, danger days' "where the good guys die and the bad guys win". the vampires and corpse-like make-up and lyrics constantly looking to the end. 1000+ hits when you google: "death-obsessed" "my chemical romance". gerard way's "if we never play another show again, keep yourself alive" in 2008, when the band had an exhausting few years and an uncertain future (video, article).

it took a few years, but the band eventually played its last show. it wasn't just a break or dissolution. the band died. their final song was released posthumously in 2/14 and it was titled "fake your death" -- not a hint at reunification, but a finale that put to rest who they were as my chemical romance. as gerard way said: "i don't think my chemical romance is supposed to happen again. i think it's supposed to stay beautiful forever; it's a beautiful thing. it's supposed to die young in the car wreck" (kerrang , 7/14).

dying young has haunted my chem as long as death has. every single main character of theirs' was both dead and young: irl demolition lovers on the LOTMS cd, the patient being "too young to die", the fab four being teenagers according to the killjoys: california comics. even gun's "never gonna have a son" and "if im old enough to die for your mistakes / then let's go". even helena, who is directly about the ways' grandmother, is played by a young actor -- with make-up matching the bands'. there were fears surrounding gerard's health ending the band then at one point his life, as stated by brian schechter in LOTMS. after the band ended, mikey and frank had near-death experiences. gerard released hestiant alien's how it's going to be, a song about "waking up from the dream and realizing it's not exactly what you wanted" (video): "you said we'd all be dead by twenty five" and "we're just bored you're still alive". the entertainment industry is marked by the iconization of artists who died young. the 90s - 00s was a time + place defined by DARE and AIDS and young veterans. the band coincided with BIG life changes (sky-rocketing careers, new families).

this is all to say that my chem tightly links youth and death. there is also a great emphasis on death as a performance -- dedicating songs and albums and theatre productions and art and stories and appearances to it. the aesthetic of death.

though the band died young, its people didnt. years went by. my impression as an outsider to that time is that even without reason (least of all from these fuckin guys), hope didnt die. it laid dormant. the group friendship and musical relationship was revived sometime 2017 - 2018 because of a family bbq (podcast, quote). that was two years of possibility before they decided to return in 2019. after some hurdles where hope never diminished, they began their first tour after a decade -- filled with projects and personal hardships and children growing up -- in 2022.

this tour has been marked by their visible and stated joy. not a nostalgia tour, not an album tour, but a chance to "reintroduce ourselves to the world" (podcast, quote). the sources of joy are endless (isnt that just so beautiful??) one of them is discovering the link btwn living and old age.

theyre still about death, theyre still about youth, theyre still about drama. gerard's dressed as princess diane and joan darc, famous women who died young. the when we were young night 2 costumes are bout the horror of aging but not changing. it's a forever mcr theme.

[itwasthereaminuteago]

this will always be one of my favorite looks cause I can't get out the image of my head of soaking Frank's beard.......... 🙈🫠🫠🫠

Hey. Yes, this exactly, and grabbing hold of that hair while you're doing it?

🫨😅

Thank you for reintroducing this thought to my little brain rotisserie 😆

[coolgirlsucks]

Tumblr is definitely my main social media at this point since Instagram feels old and I deleted twitter. whats facebook? But I'm at this point where I feel like I need to find like minded folks on here that I can actually engage with..

i guess lemme reintroduce myself to the world of tumblr yet again, I'm frank and to keep it short and simple, I love movies, art, and macabre subjects. if you post interesting films or have interesting takes on the outside worlds culture send me a message or check this blog out.... really hoping to find my crowd on every website I'm going to scroll away to yfm?

[octou-sin]

i like to reintroduce myself on my fan page (running since like 2014-15) every once in a while.

hii i’m maya :3 im 22 (she/her) guitarist, artist, queer, and have been working up to psychologist. i started this account off as a Frank Iero fan account

(jk it used to have a lot of tøp..)

anyways, i’m always looking for friends in the community who still love mcr as much as i do, i also have other accounts where i post my love for webkinz and am also still an avid player lol.

my asks are always open even though i’ve never had a need for it incase anyone has questions, or if anyone wants to get to know me more dm me :) just as long as you’re not a creep, or a minor (sorry kids, i know a lot of the fan base now is teenagers again but talking to minors kinda just makes me uncomfortable)

also! i mainly work on oil paintings, but love other mediums like digital and airbrush! lmk if anyone’s ever interested in my art because it would be a dream of mine to be able to use it in a work sense.