#and it being dune too is crazy

[calamitoustide]

Frank Herbert, Dune Messiah

regulus black

[controld3vil]

invisible strings

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic)

synopsis: requested/inspired by this ask!

⤷ alt: coincidences are strange. however, what's more strange was not knowing you were in previous works with your costars.

notes: this one is pretty short. reader is gender neutral. set in the same verse as popcorn bucket (♡´౪`♡)

Ding!

"Ah I don't think you guys are going to get this one," you puffed, eyes trailing down to the question on the Vanity Fair card. The cast and you were playing the Vanity Fair Game Show for a fun video. You all eventually filmed with one another at some time during production. Though your schedules were all over the place/locations, everyone got along with each other. That is to say, some like yourself had been in the first film and kept in contact for the sequel. "What was my first show audition?"

Mumbles in unison scurried. Some hums and thought-provoking nods were seen as you hurriedly scribbled down your answer in black ink.

"Oo Shake It Up!" Zendaya points out, eyes wide with her quick response.

Austin Butler who sat beside Florence Pugh raised his head, almost surprised. "Wait, really?" While the blonde actress knowingly glances back to you for confirmation. The rest of the cast was all too eager to know because clearly they had no idea.

"Yes, correct!" You raised your arms, doing jazz hands. In a burst of energy, the mixed actress scores a bright grin, raising her fist in the air in victory. Only for you to pump her fist back, smiling back.

"How were we supposed to know that?" Timothee Chalamet says, snickering accusatively at the camera as if they had an answer. His gaze moves towards you, "You never told us that!"

You shrugged your shoulders, looking half guilty. "You're lost, pal!"

"At least I got the point!" Zendaya puffs up her chest, swiping the invisible dust off her shoulders while Florence giggles. However Timothee looked almost offended even.

"Wait you were in Shake It Up?" Austin shakes his head in pure astonishment. You gave him a slow nod, as his expression grew wider, eyes staring at you in awe. "That's crazy! I didn't know that!"

"Was it a show?" Josh Brolin's comment seemingly pops in and all four of the younger cast including yourself snickered shortly. His cluelessness only substituted for better curiosity to you. As really, you never really told them about your previous works.

"It was a Disney show," Flipping the Vanity Fair card over, only to reveal your messy handwriting, you stated fondly. Timothee then hastily pointed at the small drawing you drew next to your answer. It breaks your concentration for a second as he only stares at it in confusion while Zendaya covers her mouth from giggling. "Like a sitcom really. And I played one of the background dancers." Even you couldn't stop yourself from giggling further, taking a look at your draw.

Truly it was one of those topics that are never mentioned around you. The only reason Zendaya had known was that you had told her once about it when discussing your dance careers. The both of you were young actors and did not expect to know each other back then and even now. Though it was a cute recollection to look back upon.

"Is that a stick figure waving his arms?" Florence cocks her head sideways, having a concentrated face.

"He's supposed to be dancing!" You plead, pointing at the way you drew his arms in the air.

"That is not dancing!" Timothee's smile only grew wider from laughing too much, having to lean forward to look at the little drawing closer. "He just looks- like he's discombobulated!"

"PFFTT!"

"I mean it's a cute drawing!"

"You know what- you don't appreciate my art," You gently placed the card on the floor, giving your costar the stink eye. "I thought this was a fun game, you guys! People are being bullied for no reason!"

"No- I'm not saying your drawings are bad!" The French actor stumbles, in beats of laughter, clenching his cards to his chest. You only swat his presence away before grabbing another question.

In another instance, Austin takes his turn. For a few rounds, he asked about his hobbies, such as what instruments he knew to play. It was quick flashed answers, one by one you managed to pass through flying colors.

"Guitar and piano," Austin bobs his head, as the rest of cast suddenly became enamored at his musical skills.

"Hey!"

"Alright!"

"But also violin," He says sheerly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh okay!" Florence drags out an amused hum, in a teasing manner.

"Is that true?" Timothee quirks his brow, having one leg over another, looking all composed.

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's go Disney Channel kids!" You chanted, with the mixed actress a seat away from you joined with as well. You both raised your hands in victory while Austin looked away and blushed.

"We got all the talent!"

At the CCXP Panel in Brazil, fans from all over came to attend to fantastic event. Hosted by Collider Interview, it was a massive event with an enormous stadium, fit for a band performance. There were arrays of lights, standing from the alleyways and above the ceiling. You felt extremely fortunate to have attended and made it to Brazil, for being such a joyful experience.

This time you alongside your young cast members and director, Denise Villeneuve, posed happily with all of you. The panel followed with many turns and twists, with questions coming from the crowd and host alike. One moment fans caught on was your reaction to something that Florence at said.

The Collider host mentioned Florence's history of working with Timothee on Little Women which made both of them cackle, reminiscing those dotting moments.

"Oh you know what," the British actress starts, holding her hand up. The audience was silenced, wondering what she going to mention next. She slowly turns in your direction and points. "I just remembered this, but you were in Midsommar yes?"

"Yes..." You mumbled, ending your answer on a high note, unsure really what she meant. Until it came flashing back to you, much prevalent to your shocked expression. "Oh yes yes!" And seemingly the rest of the cast and fans were roaring in surprise and in cheer.

Though you weren't present in most of the film's production, Florence had fond memories of Midsommar. You were one of the minor characters doomed to death in the first half. Both of your characters had a brief meeting together and that was all. However, it surprised you how Florence was able to recall it all. You had only filmed for a few days and vaguely met her casually.

"This is so weird but I don't know- I just kept forgetting to bring it up," She scrambles to find the right words, throwing gestures back and forth. "But for some reason, I just remembered you being there and then I was like- huh! We were in Midsommar together!"

"Right!" You lowered your tone, the weight on your heels slowly shifting to one side. As you licked your lips at the revelation. "I can't believe we just realized this now!" And you could discern the pure chaos the rest of your costars were feeling. Timothee was wheezing, desperately holding his mic for support. While Zendaya crossed her arms in a mixture of sarcasm and odd mischievousness. As if saying, Really? You guys never realized?! Austin on the other hand, solely was observing from the sidelines, with an amused smile. And all for Denny to be panned to the right with a funny disapproving look on his face.

"This is what I have to deal with," Your director somberly states and the crowd cries out in cackles.

"I don't think we were in anything together before."

No interview or video was being shot. Surprisingly it was lunchtime and a grace period for cast and production alike to go back to their trailers to rest. You did not want to go back to your own trailer so instead followed your costar to his. Knowing he had a better air conditioner and wanted to catch up on anything new you guys enjoyed talking about.

But more importantly, his air conditioner.

"Yeah, I don't think we did," Arms securely behind your head as you leaned back on the couch. You still were in full costume, in Fremen wear however it did not stop you from lounging around in every corner of the set sites. "Does Dune count?"

A light-hearted scoff escapes from Timothee, who is on his phone on the other side of the couch, in costume as well. The air conditioner was blasting heavily on all sides of the trailer yet you two did not mind the loud background noise. "No, it doesn't!"

"That's crazy right?" Lifting yourself up to look at him. His eyes don't leave his phone screen yet you know he is focused on your words. "I'm genuinely surprised we haven't played siblings,"

"We look nothing alike!" He shouts, finally lifting his gaze to your playful one. Suddenly you see his phone flash turned on as it faces you. "So, what do you think of Dune Part Two so far?"

You get up swiftly, stretching out of your tired limbs in the process. "Like a walk on the sand!"

"Aye!" He fist-bumps you as he turns the camera on him, face not covered in any gear. The audience can notice his messy locks and smudged face.

"Directors, sign us up to play something!" You waved before adjusting to put on your mask. The camera swerves to find you clipping on the clasps. A couple clicks can be heard as you move the gear up and down from your face. "Literally anything! I could play his serial killer and I would be happy."

"What-" Timothee almost choked on air, prominent to how shaky the camera view became. Though he quickly recovered, "Why do you always want to kill me in these scenarios?"

"Because it's much more fun!" You whine, shoulders deflating, as you can feel him zooming in on your expression.

[folkwhoredoll]

𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 - 𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

kinktober 2024 masterlist

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The air is thick with the scent of saltwater and pine, the wind ruffling through the trees as the waves crash against the shore nearby. It’s late — well past midnight — and the only light comes from the moon and the dim glow of a lantern you left by the blanket. You and Rafe had slipped away from the beach party hours ago, finding a secluded spot at the edge of the forest, just beyond the sand dunes, hidden from view but close enough that the distant sound of music still drifts through the air.

It’s peaceful, or at least it was.

Rafe stands in front of you, his eyes locked on yours, dark with that familiar, dangerous glint. The kind of look that sends a shiver down your spine because you know what it means, he’s got something reckless in mind, something that’s going to leave you breathless and gasping for more.

His fingers brush against your wrist, the touch light, teasing, but there’s nothing gentle in the way he tugs you closer, his grip firm, possessive. “I can’t fucking wait any longer,” he mutters, his voice low, rough with need. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you against him, his lips hovering over yours. “I need you. Right now.”

You glance around, your pulse quickening at the thought of being out here, in the open. The soft sounds of laughter and distant voices from the party are faint, but close enough that someone could stumble upon you at any moment. “Rafe, we’re not exactly hidden,” you whisper, your voice shaky with both excitement and nerves.

He grins, that dangerous smirk you know all too well, the one that says he doesn’t care. “Good.”

Before you can protest, his lips crash into yours, silencing any argument you might’ve had. The kiss is hard, desperate, all teeth and tongue, and you melt into it, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Rafe’s body presses into yours, backing you up against the rough bark of a tree, the sharpness of it biting into your skin, but the sensation only heightens the thrill.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands already working their way under your shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of your waist. “You knew what you were doing, didn’t you? Wearing that little outfit like you didn’t know I’d lose my mind.”

You can barely breathe, the heat of his touch mixing with the adrenaline coursing through you. “I didn’t think—”

Rafe cuts you off with a growl, his lips moving to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. “Yeah, you did,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust. His hands slide lower, gripping your hips as he presses his body against yours, the hard length of him obvious through his jeans. “And now I’m going to make you pay for it.”

The heat between you is overwhelming, and your heart races as he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping the waistband of your shorts. You glance around again, the thrill of being out here, so exposed, sending a fresh wave of excitement through you.

“Rafe,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as he tugs your shorts down your legs. “What if someone sees?”

He looks up at you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Then they’ll get a fucking show.”

Your breath hitches as his hands grip your thighs, pulling you closer, and before you can say another word, his mouth is on you. The first swipe of his tongue sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you gasp, your back arching against the tree as he works you over with slow, deliberate strokes.

It’s too much. The sensation of his mouth on you, the rough bark against your skin, the open air and the constant, lingering threat of being caught — it’s all overwhelming, intoxicating, and you can barely think straight as Rafe’s tongue flicks over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You glance toward the beach, your heart pounding in your chest as you imagine someone walking past, seeing you like this, your hands gripping the bark of the tree, your legs trembling as Rafe devours you like he can’t get enough. It’s reckless, dangerous, and it drives you wild.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you breathe, your hands tangling in his hair as he sucks hard on your clit, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you in place. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He pulls back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with desire. “Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he growls, his voice low, dangerous. “You love the idea of someone seeing you like this.”

You do, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. The risk of it, the thrill — it makes your pulse race, your body react in ways you can’t control. And Rafe knows it. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you fall apart, and you’re powerless to stop him.

“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his voice rough as he stands, his hands gripping your waist as he lifts you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist. His hard length presses against your core, and the friction sends another wave of pleasure through you. “Tell me you want me to fuck you right here.”

You hesitate, glancing toward the beach again, the distant sounds of the party still drifting through the air. But the heat in Rafe’s eyes, the feel of him pressed against you, the way your body aches for more. It’s too much.

“I want it,” you whisper, your voice shaky, breathless. “I want you, Rafe.”

That’s all he needs.

With one swift motion, he frees himself from his jeans, his cock hard and ready, and in an instant, he’s inside you, filling you completely. You gasp, your head falling back against the tree as the overwhelming sensation of him stretching you has your entire body trembling.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to move, his pace hard and fast, no patience, no hesitation. He’s like a man possessed, every thrust driving you harder against the tree, the sound of your bodies colliding mixing with the distant crash of the waves.

The angle has him hitting deeper, harder, and the pleasure is almost unbearable. Every nerve in your body is on fire, and the constant, thrilling fear of being seen only heightens it. Your fingers claw at his back, pulling him closer, desperate for more, as he takes you with reckless abandon.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his voice rough, his breath hot against your neck. “So tight. So fucking perfect.”

You can barely think, your body reacting to every thrust, every word, the pressure building inside you to a fever pitch. The cool night air against your heated skin, the rough bark against your back, the sensation of Rafe fucking you like he owns you;

And then you hear it.

A voice. Someone calling out, laughing, getting closer.

Your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat as you realize someone’s coming. But instead of stopping, instead of pulling away, Rafe only thrusts harder, faster, his hand clamping over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Don’t make a sound,” he mutters, his voice low, dangerous. “I want you to come for me, but don’t make a fucking sound.”

You can’t help it. The thrill of being caught, the overwhelming pleasure; it all crashes together as your orgasm rips through you, your entire body shaking as Rafe fucks you through it, his hand still over your mouth, his pace relentless.

By the time it’s over, the voices have passed, and you’re left trembling in his arms, breathless, spent. Rafe pulls out, his breath ragged as he presses a soft kiss to your neck.

“Good girl,” he mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips as he helps you adjust your clothes. “Told you no one would see.”

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : I]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: you have always denied your own power. But fate has its own path. Sometimes it can be changed, but often it cannot be avoided. You realized this truth when you met him for the first time, as you stepped into your seventeenth year.

Status: finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

➡  Intro // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Episodes 1] There is no escape—we pay for the violence of our ancestors

"We were once far greater than this," That's what your mother often told you many times when you were much younger.

For the most part, the tales from your mother's lips were no different from myths. The details were ancient and blurred by time, seeming more like delusions than truths. People never believed anything she said, dismissing her as just another mad woman with an unsound mind.

You were the only one who fully believed your mother, not just because she was your mother.

But because you saw it, just as your mother had seen, and just as all your ancestors before them had seen.

The Awakening —that's what your mother called it. It was said that one of your distant ancestors could look back into the past and see thousands of years into the future.

Mother believed this was a gift, a great inherited legacy passed down through blood, bone, and spirit, strung together for countless eons.

You thought the opposite. You saw it more as a curse.

Since the collapse in the past, your lineage has greatly weakened, and not everyone could bear the Awakening like your great ancestors. Knowing too much, even knowing what shouldn't be known, was an unnatural mechanism that directly affected both body and mind. The more one saw, the more twisted and destroyed they became.

Thus, everyone's fate was not much different. Most ended up committing suicide or being killed. A few went mad, and even fewer were scorned and despised by others as being crazy.

Fortunately, your mother was the latter.

You firmly believed this, until your mother intentionally gave you poison to drink when you were fifteen.

"Drink it," Your mother voice was harsh as she placed the glass on the wooden table in front of you. Inside was a pungent blue liquid that smelled like cinnamon mixed with some kind of medicine. She had a glass in her own hand as well, gripping it tightly as if it were precious. Her blue eyes, once as dark as ink, were now pale and vacant, not even bothering to look at you.

For a moment, just a few seconds but feeling like an eternity, as the strange smell wafted into your nose, the awakening enveloped your senses. You looked up into your mother's eyes, acutely aware of what she was about to do.

"Ten percent, Hara," your mother told you, her voice flat and emotionless. "Worth the risk."

That was the last sentence before she drank the poisoned glass in one gulp. Your mother's entire body collapsed in front of you, and never woke up again.

Outsiders judged on their own that your mother was insane, deranged to the point of trying to commit suicide along with her own daughter using some strange, untraceable poison.

And since then, you have always denied your own power.

You didn't want to be like your mother, and you didn't want to end up like others in the past.

But fate has its own path. Sometimes it can be changed, but often it cannot be avoided.

You realized this truth when you met him for the first time, as you stepped into your seventeenth year.

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, filled with panic. Your entire body hangs suspended in mid-air, swaying back and forth as you struggle to find a way to escape. But no matter how hard you try, it is useless. The straw rope from the trap binding your ankles is too tight, and the branch of the large tree to which the rope is attached is too strong. You know well that you have no way of getting out of here unless someone comes to help.

"Say ‘please’."

You look towards the voice, seeing an upside-down image of a man leaning against that tree. He wears an old black cloak with patches of mending here and there. One hand casually twirls a short knife, its sharp tip gleaming in flashes of sunlight.

You respond by spitting at him.

Of course, your saliva doesn't reach his face, barely making it to his feet. It becomes yet another futile attempt on your part. He laughs at you mockingly, and that laughter irritates you even more. You struggle harder until you can feel the straw rope fibers cutting into the flesh of your ankles. Blood begins to trickle out bit by bit.

"You're about to cut off your own legs, you know that?"

You stop your actions when he approaches. Those black eyes still gleam with amusement as he stands watching your pitiful state for a moment, deliberately torturing you a little for your defiance, before finally deciding to help.

One of his hands swiftly cuts the rope, while his other arm wraps around your waist to prevent you from headbutting the ground. You had never known his strength until today, discovering that he could carry your body and flip you back to standing on the ground with just one arm, without his expression changing one bit. As if you were just a plank of wood, not a full-grown human.

"You shouldn't run away like this," he says, gesturing around the dense forest. Wherever one looks, there is nothing but trees and grass packed tightly everywhere. "The planet Khofar is full of dangers. Even most bounty hunters don't like coming here much."

You already knew that, and it was the main reason why you chose to hide on this wild, forested planet for the past two years.

Who would have thought you'd meet someone else crazy and brave enough to come here too?

"What's here that's more dangerous than you?" You retort without hesitation.

You have never trusted this strange man, and this isn't the first time you have tried to escape from him. But whenever you manage to find a way to run, he always tracks you down, like a game of cat and mouse.

And you are quite sure that he enjoys hunting you. The gleam in his eyes reveals as much, clear, and undisguised.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

The man smiles mischievously without flinching. His hand grips your upper arm, refusing to let go. You feel yourself shrink when standing close to him. He is as tall and large as a stone pillar, his sharp features with a slight beard giving off an atmosphere of stern seriousness. Even though there is a playful smile on his face, it does nothing to diminish his intimidating presence.

"Alright, little girl. Instead of just running away like this, don't you think it's time we sit down and have a real talk?"

He bends down, bringing his eyes level with yours. You see the scrutinizing, fault-finding look in his eyes as they survey every feature of your face, stripping you bare with his piercing gaze, trying to find the slightest sign of anything you might be hiding.

"Tell me, how does a small woman like you, who has nothing, end up becoming a wanted criminal with a bounty on her head?"

Wanted Criminal—that's what Qimir has called you since your first encounter, and it is the same reason you have been stuck with him for so long.

Someone, or perhaps many people, have decided to label you a criminal, putting a price on your head as if you were dangerous, even though you haven't done anything terrible at all.

Your only crime was being born into this lineage. That alone is enough to be branded as a danger, unworthy of living in any galaxy.

True, those events have long passed, so much so that most people have forgotten that your ancestry once existed in this universe. But there are still some groups who remember well. These are people who fear history will repeat itself, wanting to permanently erase the cursed bloodline, and those who desire to exploit the hidden power that exists only in your family line.

And when your mother chose to die early, there was no one left but you—the only bloodline of past greatness still breathing and sane. Now you are the final target being hunted relentlessly by those people.

You don't have many choices. The only way to survive safely is to keep running aimlessly, like a legless bird that never stops flying until death, trying to hide as discreetly as possible.

You have lived like this all along, never being caught once, and never revealing yourself to anyone. But even Homer sometimes nods. Eventually, failure creeps up on you unexpectedly when this strange, peculiar man appears.

Qimir is a smuggler and mercenary who takes on any job that pays well, legal or illegal. Like other bounty hunters, he seeks fortune by hunting you, but he managed to do what many others couldn't—he was the first to find you and capture you without getting his throat slit first.

You are puzzled by this man. It is strange that he doesn't just kill you but instead keeps you like a stray animal he has taken in. He doesn't imprison you but won't let you leave either. His mind is full of endless curiosity, questioning everything about you. He keeps asking you repeatedly why an ordinary girl like you has such a high bounty on your head.

Of course, you have no intention of answering him, no matter how much he persists.

"It seems everyone wants to get their hands on you. Did you know even the Jedi are looking for you?" Qimir had told you, his tone a mix of warning and intimidation. "You're not secretly some kind of Sith or something, are you?"

'Sith' is a forbidden word throughout the Empire. The name of an evil, ruthless sect that believes in absolute power and tyranny. They are the complete opposite of the Jedi, known as the guardians of virtue and keepers of peace in the universe.

Hearing this, you can't help but laugh derisively. To you, both Jedi and Sith are bizarre, extreme factions locked in an endless struggle, as if the entire universe were just black and white.

"I don't have the Force, so I can't be a Sith. And I can't be a Jedi either," you reveal, cautiously avoiding saying more than necessary. "I'm just me, nothing more."

Qimir stares at you intently, his eyes narrowing slightly and thick eyebrows furrowed. It is clear he doesn't believe what you say. If he had the Force, you think he must be trying to read your mind right now.

But even a Jedi couldn't do anything. You have learned many things from your mother's teachings, one of which is how to shield your mind. Without your permission, no one can invade your thoughts.

Qimir sighs and shakes his head slowly, eventually giving up his attempt to catch you lying. "Then you're useless," he says, and you see this as a great opportunity.

"Exactly. My mother used to say keeping a Tooka was more useful than keeping me," you say, biting your lip as your left leg throbs with pain from a deep wound. You are too tired to fight him and can't even walk properly, which only makes your words seem more plausible. "And now, with my injured leg, I'll just be a burden to you..."

Qimir glances at you again, considering the serious, solemn expression you are feigning. A slight smile tugs at his lips, nearly breaking into a laugh. He isn't fooled by your act.

"For a burden worth Nova Crystals, I'm willing to carry it," he says.

He doesn't just speak—in the blink of an eye, he wraps an arm around your waist and easily lifts your body over his shoulder, causing you to scream in surprise. Hearing the satisfied laughter from him only makes you more furious and resentful towards this man.

I must kill him and escape your resolve is firm, even though you know it won't be easy.

[aust-een]

Omg I'm having a mental breakdown. My brain cannot seem to register Austin being this thick.... I know he put on a lot of muscle during shanara and Dune 2 but this time it's different. He looks so manly.... I love it but I love slim and trim Austin Butler too

I have been struggling to function the last 2 days I have seen so much of his manly, solid biceps, it’s insane, I also love trim Austin too but when he’s built I lose my damn mind, it’s so hot, like him just leaning against a bar is nuclear fire because his arms flex like crazy, I actually want to eat him ahhhhh.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Sister, Sister: After the End

When Eliza invites the entire family to Midvale over Easter weekend, none of them offer a single squeak of protest. It's been a long few weeks of working on their own endeavors, with only infrequent, hectic teamups between them.

It's nice, Lena decides after dinner the first night. The warmth, the easy familiarity that sinks in as though it never left. But even so, she's grateful for a spare moment to snag a blanket and go out to the dunes, where waves crash steadily against the quiet of darkness.

She spreads the blanket out and lays back, folding her hands over her ribcage. Her magic fills her these days, and she can feel the power of the ocean tugging at her, as though inviting her to join its current. She can also feel the shifting energy of the sand beneath the blanket, and the sway of the reeds that obscure her from the view of the house.

She's not too difficult to find though, as footsteps whisper through the sand towards her. Lena closes her eyes, biting the smidge of irritation that creeps up on her unexpectedly.

"I'm fine," she issues pre-emptively. Kara settles down on the blanket next to her.

"Didn't think you weren't."

Lena's eyes snap open as her head whips towards Nia's voice. Not Kara.

She huffs a laugh. "Sorry," she offers readily. "Thought you were someone else."

"Mhmm," Nia returns. "Considering she's the only one able to get hold of you these days."

Lena grimaces. "I know, I'm sorry--"

"Me too," Nia assures her of no hard feelings. "I could have done more to make it happen. It's just been..."

"Busy."

"Yeah. It's a little crazy to think about, you know? I'm doing more as Dreamer for the foundation than I am as a crime fighter or whatever. And you're back to being on top--"

Lena scoffs a laugh that turns into a giggle as she turns her head to look at Nia. It takes a moment to click.

"Oh--! Lena! You know that's not what I meant!"

The light smack to Lena's ribcage only earns a throatier laugh. Nia joins in with a giggle of her own, and they laugh for a long moment before calming.

"I know what you mean," Lena concedes after a heavy sigh, returning to the moment. "The foundation is everything I hoped it would be, but--"

"It's different." Nia turns her head, and Lena echoes the movement to meet her gaze.

She nods. "Yeah. As much as I don't miss the entire world being in peril..."

"You miss how it was." Nia's voice is quiet. "Even if it's better now."

"Yeah."

They stare up at the stars for a long quiet moment. The sky is clear tonight, and the Milky Way spreads out before them in a wide, untouchable ribbon. A wave of nostalgia overwhelms Lena, and not just for the good old days. Sudden tears burn at her eyes.

"I miss my mom," she whispers.

Nia doesn't turn, but pats across Lena's hip until Lena reaches down to clasp the questing hand.

"Me too," Nia returns softly. Her next words curl with a gentle smile. "They'd be so proud of us though."

Lena chokes out a bit of a chuckle, which mostly sounds like she's being strangled. "Yeah." She squeezes Nia's hand. "She would have really liked you."

"Oh my gosh, are you kidding?!" Nia's voice lifts. "My mom would have gushed over you! Especially now with the whole earthy, witchy vibe you have going on these days. She'd love that."

Lena grins. "Could you imagine if they'd had the chance to meet?"

"Oh god." Nia covers her eyes with her free hand. "Inseparable. No embarassing childhood memory would be safe..."

Lena laughs, truly, as though she actually had memories with her mother to be embarassed by. In this fictional world they've created, she would.

"Hey." Lena catches Nia's gaze, and offers a wide smile. "I'm proud of you too."

Nia's lips pinch tight, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. All she can manage is a trembling nod, and a firm squeeze on Lena's fingers to reciprocate the sentiment.

Neither of them keeps track of how long they stay out there on the shallow dunes. They simply lay there, hands clasped, as the galaxy slowly swirls above them.

[kynimdraws]

Is it gay to camp with ur bf and ur ex?

To see the story drabbles the prev part is here (all entries tagged under "#Hunter and the Mask Verse Story") Yone design ref for this verse can be seen in detail here

Let's find out under the cut lmao

Over a week had passed since they started their long trek through the desert to reach Nazumah. There had been some encounters with stray Bacci and dune hounds, which were taken care of relatively quickly. It was also fascinating for Yone to see K'sante in action: in the dense forests of Ionia he was far more careful about his swings with the ntofos. But in the vast dunes of Shurima, he seemed more in his element. The power and grace of his moves just seemed to belong here. Of course Yone's soul-sword techniques were sufficient to dispatch foes as well.

During one of the nights (K'sante figured that it would take another day or two to reach the outskirts around Nazumah), they suddenly find a relatively large party pass by. K'sante and Yone tense, since it was initially unknown whether this traveling group was friend or foe until…

"Tope!" K'sante calls after recognizing his former lover.

The two embrace and laugh, and the tension disappears immediately from everyone. The two parties set up camp.

"Traveling by night too? So not a hunt, I presume? Where are you headed?"

"No hunt. And I was about to go to Nazumah to warn the council there about…suspicious activity at the Sun Disc."

Tope informs that through Taliyah, there has been some unrest between Xerath's Magus cult and Azir's newly built Empire following. While the independent Shurima nations were aware of this building conflict due to the increased activity of soldiers, cultists, and Baccai…there never have been full on war.

"While I would just let those two fight until both no longer walk this earth, their violence might bleed into innocent tribes and nations that want nothing to do with them. And there are tales of Azir's descendant that may be able to sway the crazy emperor, and I wanted to recruit able-bodied people for the cause."

K'sante nods. His mother, who was one of the Nazumah councilwomen that ran the city-state, would surely agree with Tope's plan. But instead of assuming it was much better for them to get an audience with the netire council.

"Then I will help, and I will be guessing Nazumah will also support. With me and you, and others at our side…we will be unstoppable!"

Then the two men chatter about trivial things, mostly catch up with one another. Throughout this Yone quietly listens in, somehow finding himself sitting between them. He would have been content just being an observer, but Tope was not the type to let that pass.

"So, who is your travel companion K'sante? He isn't Shuriman that is for sure."

"Ah, about that…"

Tope holds up his hand, a signal for stop K'sante from talking.

"I know you are a great storyteller, but I want the stranger to answer."

Yone chuckles at that, and concedes. With SOME interjections from K'sante, Yone retells how the two had met and now are traveling back. Tope in the meanwhile that brought out some palm wine that was shared between the three.

"I see," Tope finally remarks after the storytime ends. "I am glad you found good company with K'sante. By the way did you know…"

Before K'sante would stop him, Tope started talking about some of his adventures with the man. Yone is very amused by much of them, especially whenever K'sante would awkwardly say how much of a reckless idiot he used to be in those earlier times.

As they finally settle to rest for the day, K'sante claims he needed to sleep early and steps out from the campfire. Seeing that Yone was not quite ready to join K'sante, Tope comes closer to talk to the man in private.

"So…how do you like him?"

Yone starts.

"What do you mean?"

"A man does not merely follow another man to his homeland just for saving him. You could have just stayed back in Ionia. To remain as good friends. But it seems there is something more than that."

Tope smiled warmly. Yone meanwhile felt a bit awkward, especially given how Tope was…K'sante's former lover. He just looks away and stays silent.

"For the record, I was not making fun of you," Tope starts up the conversation again. "I think you are good for him. He is not perfect, but I can see that he cares and is a better man especially towards you."

He laughs a little.

"If anything, it is quite funny seeing him tiptoe around you like you are a frightened dune gazelle, because he is usually much more direct about his feelings. I was surprised he introduced you as just a 'friend' after hearing all you went through."

"Oh?" Yone finally responds.

"K'sante is like a desert storm sometimes, he will just charge and say his piece. But with you…he is being gentle. As if he wants you to say something first. I think even if you reject him, he'll respect your decision."

Tope chuckles again, pouring the last of the palm wine for both.

"A toast, to whatever path you take in your life. Regardless of how you go with K'sante, knowing what you know now."

Yone nods and toasts to Tope's health in return. Finally the two eventually turn in for sleep.

[foreverdolly]

IM OBSESSED WITH YOUR FEYD FIC, ITS SO GOOD DOLLY 😭 i was actually looking for a fic where feyd's personality wouldn't change THAT much but at the same time, he wouldn't be an absolute freak, who harrasses the reader. and your fic is the perfect combination of both! can't wait for the next chapters whenever you'll be able to write more <333

one of the main things i’m worried about is changing feyd’s personality too much. i want the dialog and mannerisms to read as “canon” as humanely possible given the unlikely circumstances i’ve placed him in. genuinely this means so so much to me, so thank you from the bottom of my heart!

don’t get me wrong though, feyd is definitely a freak in this fic. things get freaky and smutty from here on. he has very animalistic tendencies, hence why the crew made the stylistic choices that they did in dune part two. so i’m playing into that a lot with my rendition of him!

he’s crazy territorial and wants his woman to smell like him at all times- which is a trope that is highlighted in this next chapter. i hope you don’t mind him being a freak too much ;)

[ladyclwriter]

State of Grace - Paul Atreides!AU

I'm not a Dune reader, I only watched the movies. Everything here is fanfiction!

Summary: Paul succeeded at bending most of the noble houses at his upcoming command. You are the leader of a Minor House, Polaria. Spending some time with Paul before battles, you find yourself resonating with Muad'Dib, and your advice to the older boy is: don't let them take Atreides from you.

Longshot, time jumps, platonic, gender neutral reader, lots of high fantasy stuff

*In purple: creation of mine, fanfiction.

The curved walls weren't welcoming, it's dead gray like a panicking hug, differently from the colorful shapes of your planet. You could still remember the suffer of waking up inside concrete boxes, which they called chambers — at your little palace, the place where you'd settle your head to sleep was adorned on silk, feathers, and rainbow furniture. Walking through corridors busting with laughing children, maidens carrying baskets, warriors with swords, elders with it's incenses perfuming the air. Greeting many faces, and trying to remember all of them, was a daily task. You had to smile even when you didn't want to, for there was no time or room for melancholy and paranoia.

And now, you would find yourself praying to find anyone at all willing to even look at you. Irrelevance, how much of a pain it could be. And loneliness was a death sentence to a Polaritia.

After your platoon playing a definitive role at a conquering battle against one of the Major Houses, Duke Paul started to pay more attention to you. He'd discuss attack plans with you, trust your guidance and build teams at your observations.

“They have no reasons, nor power, to come against me” he said nonchalantly to Halleck. “Sometimes the weakest, the smallest ones, are the ones to trust”

You were teached to be trustworthy, but not the one who trust. The Atreides house could hold the power of the Voice now, but forgotten people like Polaritia mastered the ability of listening. You'd spend minutes hearing the Duke's casual thoughts, his worries, his plans and his craziness. From time to time, the boy would talk to himself, lost in visions and ghosts that only he could deal with. You were there, standing like a tree, pretending to not be paying attention until he remembered of your existence again.

The catch is; there was no catch. You were as important as a stone, a tool, your value based on for what the Duke would need you for. And it had to change.

“Your Highness, Muad'Dib” you get on a knee until he pats your shoulder, walking to his own bed.

“Polaris” he says in a casual tone. The title of the leader of your little nation became your name. Actually, he probably doesn't know your name. “It's late. And you don't come to me without a reason. Something bothering you?”

Not that he cared if the answer was yes. You stand straight, hands behind your back, eyes following the skinny man as he sits on his duvets. “I'd like to ask what awaits my nation, Your Highness”

He raises a dark eyebrow. His hair follows his head as it tilts slowly, blue eyes looking at some specific point inside your being. That eerie aura only he could carry.

“You should be clearer, Polaris. That sentence could have different meanings. And I can give you as many answers” yes, he could. Your eyes wander from his, as you inhale and humbly declare:

“I have no interest on your holy visions, Muad'Dib”

His eyebrow is still up as he smile, and nod. For a moment, he's silent, looking at nowhere, caressing his own hands. He nods once more, not talking or daydreaming, but coming to a conclusion. Your heart was beating at your ears, a pressure on your chest as the worst answers come to your mind.

“Your people is amazing at arts, we could make use of some cultural schools. And no one compares to your acrobatics” he's not looking at you while he speaks, making sure his thoughts are being well articulated. “I don't need more worshippers. But I don't need more nobles too”

When his eyes meet yours again, there's a silent question in the air. You were following his logic, and you knew the right answer to give even before he could ask. He knew that too.

He leans back at the bedpost, hands crossed on top of his spread legs. “Can Polaria promise neutrality and loyalty?”

The answer was a definite yes. There was no room for a no. Yet, you keep seconds of silence. Your lips part, and your eyebrows lift slightly. But your face gets back to a plain, obedient expression.

“My people has a deep passion for the colors, for the life” it wasn't an explanation. “With your protection and affection, we would be guardians. Your art, your culture, our enemie's. Not vowed to the House of Atreides, but servants of joy and knowledge. A safe place for the ones interested on nurturing something more than power”

He stay quiet. His eyes go to nothing again. His thumb clashes against the back of the white hand it holds, feet swaying carelessly. It lasts a minute or two, until he looks at you with the most serious face he could do in his sleepwear.

“Isn't passion the biggest of the fuels, Polaris? Wouldn't your House behold a power too high for it's hands to reach?”

You couldn't contain the sparkle in your eyes. That specific feeling at the roof of your mouth, something warm inside your stomach. The smile wasn't at your face, and your voice was cold, but he could see through the etiquette. His own pupils dilated with interest, challenge.

“We are inside a flying machine, Muad'Dib” your hands tighten at your back, and you don't know if you're breathing when he smiles right after you say: “The sky was never a limit”

Ever since that day, for the first time, the people of Polaria had a purpose. The citizen captured the message, and in no time the planet was well organized to be some sort of academic safe haven. The well trained warriors were with you, battling for the Imperium. Your acrobats, illusionists, and alchemists something to be reckon when joined with the Fremen. Your mind was always aligned with Paul's, and even if no one would dare to consider you such, you became an arm of his operation. But, as nothing can be perfect, the Duke of Arrakis would also keep you at an arm's length. You couldn't read the reason, not when he looked so distant and nonchalant every time you two were alone.

Being alone with him was as entertaining as terrifying. He was easy to memorize, easy to decode, if you pay enough attention to the details. The way he would smile at things without importance, or the way he couldn't hide the turmoil inside his mind when destiny obligate him to go against him instincts. Changing weight from a feet to another when about to snap at someone, or his jawline straightening when in the smallest amount of fear.

“You seemed so sure about this. The marriage, I mean” the commentary comes out in a quiet tone, as you don't look at him in respect. “What changed?”

Can I help you in any way? was the question. He kept staring at himself on a mirror, the royal silver outfit contrasting to his disheveled hair. He asked the maidens to leave before they could finish his look. The boy needed silence, and it was understandable.

When he doesn't answer, you look at the floor. “Is it the Fremen woman?” his fingers twitch beside his body. That was enough.

There was nothing you could do about his lost love. Nothing you could do about any of his feelings, at all. So, you stay there, quietly waiting for him to speak up. When he does, the distress wouldn't be detectable. Except for the fact you knew him enough to do so.

“Do you think these clothes look good on me, Polaris?” you don't answer, but your eyes go back to his reflection. He's quiet, and you only know you were supposed to say something when his eyes meet yours.

You swallow words. Compliments and critiques. He reads it. An eyebrow is lift, a silent inquisition.

“I do, Muad'Dib” you say with an uncommon hesitation. You knew he needed more than that. “Personally, I dislike it. The attire, I mean. It... It is the Imperium style, their colors. And... That doesn't feel like you, Your Highness”

He ponders. That was clearly an unexpected answer, but he didn't seem to disagree. “I bet you don't know the colors I used to wear”, his tone was cold. “Black. Dark like tar. In simple attires, thought to represent both royalty and strength.”

Considering the armory, and how he could pull it off, you could picture he looked equally good at those. But you stay quiet, letting him think. “This feels wrong. It's too light, makes me vulnerable to any threat. It's shiny, attracts attention. It's trouble” he was mostly talking to himself. “I'd be dead in minutes wearing this at Arrakis.”

His voice drifts away. He tense up, jaw clenching. Fear. Fear of losing his past. Himself. The woman he truly loves and the people who put him where he is. And his eyes water. Sorrow, grief for what was no longer on his life.

“Duke?” you call out. He hears, but doesn't react. Your chest inflated when you inhale deeply, closing your eyes while doing your best to maintain education. But you decide to flip the coin.

Your steps are purposely noisy when your boots reach the floor. You stop at his front, but not directly, not blocking the mirror. Your gloved hands find his collar, fixing an asymmetric button.

Your skin burns when his eyes are on it, and the air inside your lungs suddenly feels too warm. But you play nonchalant, hands slow, delicate, careful not to break into his walls. “If the worms of Arrakis could see, they'd call you dramatic. That's how I would describe the high houses's style.”

He raises an eyebrow, like he always do when curious or barely listening to you. “In my planet, we dress however we wish to. I, a leader, could wear either a white dress for battle, or a pink armor for a dance. Our streets are almost blinding with colors. It's insane, really.”

Your fingers trace other details of his clothes, fixing slight errors, straightening the shiny cloth. “I can't really see the use of a silver attire. It's brilliant, it's smooth, but... What is it implying? Why is it relevant to an Emperor?”

“I don't see the dramatic part” he comments lowly, emotionless.

“The drama is a whole House have a color to dress. Unnecessary, vain, indeed” after having nothing left to pretend to fix, you join your hands at your back, meeting his eyes with a polite smile. “I know my House is loyal to me and our ideals, even if we are many, and not only a family. We don't need a color or a shield. We're Polaritia.”

He only looks at you, taking what you said with a cherish he couldn't express. A nod, and he turns on his heels, summoning maidens to fix his hair.

Mission accomplished. You eased the tension on him once more, giving him something random to think about.

The days would go on like this. When not on field, fighting, you were wandering around spaceships, fortresses, either busy with the newfound Cultural Center of Polaria, with your own platoon, or, well, making sure Paul Atreides wouldn't go insane. The more battles won and planets conquered, the more his eyes would go hollow blue. Distant, shallow, lost inside his disturbed mind. His marriage with Princess Irulan, the already settled weight of him becoming the Emperor of the Known Universe, while being the Messiah of many people, was draining every single bit of humanity the young man had. And you were there, watching, trying the best you could to keep him sane, alive. To keep him as, well, himself. And it was an agonizing way to live.

That eyebrow wouldn't lift. His jaw wouldn't clench. No half smile, no silent curiosity. At a certain way, it was killing you too. And, hours before the ceremony of his marriage, you decided to step in.

“Excuse us” the maidens didn't question; not after your months of work and lone moments with the Duke. “Your Highness. I'd like to talk”

No answer, as always. He was sat at his bed, hair combed back, wearing a shirt that was being taken care by the maids. You stop right in front of him, determined. “Don't you give me that dead fish face, my lord. I know you hear me. Talk to me, please”

His eyes find yours slowly, emotionless. That makes your whole being shake with anger and frustration. “Sir. Talk to me” you demand. When he keeps staring at you with those glass eyes, blood burns in your veins, and you snap. “I will not stand here and watch you falling by the strings of a fate you didn't choose”

No reaction.

“For fuck's sake, Moad- Paul!” you yell his name. For the first time, it comes out your lips in a shout. “You are the fucking future Emperor of the New Universe, former Duke of Arrakis, of Polaria, Caladan, and countless other planets we raided days ago!” he wasn't reacting, but listening. His eyes weren't on yours, but down. At your moving angry lips. That could make butterflies on your stomach if you weren't so pissed. “You are the first man to behold the Voice. You are the Lisan al-Gaib, the Harkonning bastard who gave us freedom. You are a living legend, a god, a savior!”

You point towards him, you spit your words. None of them resonating within him, neither within you. No, these weren't the titles he needed. These titles weren't him. “Your Highness. Paul. I...”

How painful it would be to watch such a man fall for the manipulation of forces he himself could dominate. You get on your knees. Taking his cold hands in yours, you lay your forehead at his palms. “You are good. I see goodness in you. I see faith, of a million souls. And I see hope”

As you lift your head, the vibrant blue orbs are fixated on yours. His irises shake, switching from each one of yours. A reaction.

“And I see me”

It was true. You've been thinking about that for days, working it in your mind. “I was born to shine a light on my planet. To bring us recognition, greatness. To be Polaris”

He blinks. Just once. Listening.

“I lived under the shadows of a hundred people's expectations. Literally a hundred. That's our population” you chuckle bittersweetly, tears in your eyes. “And it was heavy. It was twisted, torturing. But I had to do be. If it wasn't me, no one would. And it was hard to not lose myself on it. On who they wanted me to be”

You squeeze his skinny fingers on yours, hoping it would convey your empathy, your deep need to bring that man back to life. You did it for yourself, once. And he deserved a chance.

“Paul,” it cascades down your tongue, your lips. Caressing your teeth with a sour taste. “before all of this, you were someone. You were the son of Leto Atreides and Gesserit Jessica. The boy of Caladan”

The stories were clear. And you had to study them, as Jessica required you and anyone near Paul to. “You were a loved son. The light of your parents, and your family, even if too monotone sometimes”

You get up on your feet slowly, pulling him by his delicate hands, and he follows. You lift your chin to the tall pale Duke, and whisper:

“Become a myth alive, Paul. Conquer the New Universe” your voice shakes, and by the warmth in your eyes, you know you had tears. “But, please, don't let them take Atreides from you”

His eyebrows twitch. You gasp, finally having a reaction. Tears fall freely down your cheeks, and you laugh alone at the way your emotions were overflowing. A hand is lift to the back of your neck, and you don't think straight when your face is against his bony shoulder blade. But you close your eyes, hands at his back, clenching the fabric in it.

He wasn't a friend. Or a companion. But you hug him tight, crying for the lost man whose chin was on top of your head. Whose nose was, now, sunk in your hair.

“The universe will be damned if you get lost” you whisper, voice shivering.

The feeling of his hand running softly in your hair gave you goosebumps. He was certainly not normal, certainly not the Paul Atreides. But he was, at least, conscious.

“The ones unseen are the ones to befriend” his voice is warm, low at the side of your head, reverberating inside your chest. “For in the cold darkness lies the truth of men”

His hand cups the crook of your skull, as he lowers his head to perfectly whisper at your ear:

“Stay with me, unseen one. Help me thread through the shadows surrounding us” it wasn't a command, but it wasn't a suggestion. A whisper to your soul, your beings speaking to each other.

“I will. I will stay with you, Paul Atraides” you whisper against the cloth of his blouse. Well, that was the feeling his believers had. Reverence, hope, submission. You understood it all.

“Thank you” he sighs, sending electricity down your whole body. One of his hands travels up to your cheek, and he looks inside your eyes like a lost, madman. But completely sane, as he whispers:

“I don't think Paul Atreides will exist for long” he admits, melancholy I his tone. “But with your help... Maybe I can have faith in me.”

I watched the movie and I had this sentence in my mind. "Don't let them take Atreides from you". And I had to find a way to put it out.

Please, tell me your thoughts! Every commentary is appreciated.

And to the ones who follow me, sorry for the hiatus. I'm working on some stuff and I promise I will try to finish them this year (lol).

Thank you so much for reading!! Love you all

[oneatlatime]

The Desert

Alternate title: Gimme Appa back.

"But I believe, Aang can save the world." no pressure kid.

I had completely forgotten about these two chuckleheads. For once the 'Previously On' segment is useful rather than spoilery.

Ok Aang is going to get the world's biggest pass this episode, because he's in the suckiest of all situations. But even so, how exactly was Toph supposed to come and get them, when she was both actually blind for once and the only reason the library hadn't drowned them yet?

Aang has something of a history of running away. Does going after Appa count as running away from his friends?

Zuko's theatre kid tendencies are genetic.

The way Iroh said "What Now?" you know he was actually saying "fuck's sake."

Zuko's hair seems to grow very quickly. I thought that I could use his hair growth to measure time passing but this is not tracking. He barely had a buzz cut in The Chase and now he's fluffy.

Two things: a) this guy has eyes greyer than Aang this episode. b) He's cocking his hands like that ridiculous Henry Cavill scene from Mission Impossible where he cocks his biceps.

This guy's spear has piercings. And is coming out of a Dragon's mouth.

I don't know that I'd call these guys legendary. They're zero for two against an Avatar in Drag and two starving refugees with three functioning arms.

Doesn't Katara ever change out her water? Or even use it up and have to refill it?

I said it last episode, and I'll say it again: why did five people, a lemur, and a ten tonne sky bison travel into a desert famous for its desertiness with only a single water pouch between them? Admittedly, if they'd brought extra water and left it on Appa, they'd be having the same problem, but still...

Is a kids' show actually going to go there?

They actually went there!

Honestly if you're dying of dehydration in the desert, eating strange plants is absolutely the way to go. I'd rather trip my way into the afterlife than just shrivel up and die.

I love the way Aang's glider shadow moves over the dunes. Another one of those tiny details that the animators could have left out, but they didn't!

Sand benders must get crazy high speeds if Aang can't spot even a trace of Appa from up high. He wasn't Appa-napped very long ago.

Everyone go watch the scene where Aang blows up the mushroom cloud. Go right now I'll wait. And pay attention to Sokka's mouth. It does the wave.

His mouth does the wave and his arms do the worm. Someone really had fun this episode.

Zuko breaking the world record for highest number of Fire Nation wanted posters. Despite being the only person on that board who's unquestionably loyal to the Fire Nation. What a nice reward he got for his loyalty.

How is that one wrestler dude's hair so shiny?

Why, other than plot convenience, would Zuko and Iroh be at the Ice Spring?

I see now that the left hand shadow is Sokka with a Momo on his head. But for just a second I thought it was Ramona from Scott Pilgrim.

There are some really beautiful colour gradients in this desert.

"We won't survive without Appa." Well yes, but you have to try.

If this is a normal desert they're going to freeze their butts off overnight.

No comment. Just vibes.

Hey this is a Katara episode! Toph is blind, Sokka's zoinked, Aang's given up, so it's Katara time baby!

This episode has no business being this pretty.

"Sokka. I was there." I'd be very surprised if Katara's voice actress doesn't have an idiot older brother. That line was delivered a little too perfectly.

I'm not going to comment on every Sokka is high joke, but rest assured I'm finding them all hilarious.

Those drinks cost a gold piece each. Where did they get five gold pieces from?

Colour me shocked. The chuckleheads actually had a good idea for once.

Colour me shocked again! I vaguely predicted this!

Zuko. Honey. How are you this dim? He's so very good at missing exactly what's in front of him.

"Gold?"

Big muscles. No brains.

Very pretty. The sand texture is good too.

Well that was mean.

Passive aggressive glider deployment. Also how low is that cloud if Aang can reach it to bend it?

Aang is not shining this episode (understandably) but Katara is going from strength to strength. I NEVER would have thought that she was someone who could keep her cool under pressure like this. Happy to be wrong!

I have no idea if Sokka is going to remember or be aware of this epic trip he's on, but this is probably the best time he's had in months. Certainly since Yue died. He deserves this. Bad timing, but he needed a break.

"You must forgive my nephew. He is not an initiate, and is dumb as shit and incapable of reading the room."

Why is there a flower shop in the middle of the desert? What clients do they have? Obviously it's a front for this pai sho secret society thing, but why did they pick such a nonsensical front?

Toph has so much personality that it's easy to forget how tiny she is. Like a little gargoyle.

Sokka talking like a Greaser was the thing I didn't know I needed.

Poor Katara. Now you know how your brother feels every time he has to save your bacon from your weekly prison break.

I am losing my mind over these colours. Especially after The Library.

"I have a natural curiosity." I'm going to start using that.

Oops they found the circle bird nest.

Hey showrunners, you're going to take Momo from me too? You sure you want to do that? After last episode? Don't give me a pretty sunset with a latte swirl. Give me back Appa, put down Momo, or I'll sic Toph on you.

I do like Toph as a piece of artillery.

Turns out a combined Appa and Momo -napping is what it takes to get Aang to break his no killing rule. I now know how to defeat the Fire Lord.

The Audacity. Going to Ba-Sing- however the hell that's spelled. The sheer audacity. But then what? What's the plan after they get there? Just live the rest of their lives?

Rejected Mortal Combat guy.

You ever have one of those days where you do only your top lip?

Whoever made that door, and that lock - good job!

Nothing to see here, just making a delivery of two giant planters in the middle of the desert. The Owl decided to spruce up his entryway.

Y'all are fucked. Y'all deserve it. Aang has completely lost control. He's spent the whole episode losing it more and more and now he's gone completely off the rails. Has he ever zipped into the Avatar state that fast before?

Never underestimate the power of a woman who's fed up with everyone's nonsense. Just so fed up.

Well that was sad.

Badass name of the day: Malachi Throne, voice of a character whose name I don't recognise.

Final Thoughts

This was Katara's episode. I'm not going to forgive not getting Appa back, but Katara actually keeping a level head for once was an unexpected delight.

This episode was pretty unrelentingly heavy in the A-plot, which is why I don't understand why Sokka and Momo tripping worked so well. It did work, and I very much enjoyed it, but it should have stuck out like a sore thumb and it didn't. The beat up Sokka quota fulfillled from within by chemicals was a nice creative touch.

I am very happy to see Iroh take the wheel, although I'm not convinced there's a long term plan here beyond get food and shelter. Which, fair enough, goals tend to be short term and immediate when you're in dire straits.

This episode really stomped all over Aang. And then stomped some more. I was surprised how negative and shouty he was at the beginning, but by the end I was surprised how long it took him to lose it. Apart from his staff and his clothes, Appa really is all he has left from before he got frozen. That sandbender punk was rotten to the core.

So I guess we're going to the earth kingdom capital regardless of the eclipse information. Is the rest of the season going to be getting there? I also can't help but notice that it's where Iroh and Zuko are headed as well. Zuko could actively run in the direction opposite to the Avatar and he'd still end up tripping over him. The earth Kingdom is ginormous. And yet, like every two episodes Zuko runs into the Avatar. Is it fate? Is it plot convenience?

I should dislike this episode. It's 24 minutes of our faves getting beat down and not finding Appa, with a b-plot of Zuko being more oblivious than usual. I should dislike it, but I don't. This is definitely going on the rewatch list. It was a very pretty episode, which helped. Beyond that I can't put into words why I liked it, but I did!

[scarlet97531]

⭕️❗️CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT HOW A BOOK SERIES FOR NINE YEAR OLDS LITERALLY STARTS WITH GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DOES NOT GET BETTER??????

((General warning for graphic depictions of violence, lots of caps lock, and some swearing sprinkled in for fun for the rest of this post, also I don’t hate WoF, I love WoF, but I also think it’s batshit insane and needs to be addressed (in a pretty unserious way)))

The fucking prologue.

HELLO??? AM I CRAZY FOR THINKING THIS IS A BIT MUCH FOR THE PROLOGUE OF A CHILDREN’S BOOK???

This shot was the gateway drug for us istg. This fucking book series got is so hooked on fictional violence man 😭

We were drawing detailed dragon gore as fanart, looking at detailed gore that other people had drawn as fanart?

Seriously am I crazy????? This is the second main character killing her father to prove a point?????????

This is what we get for an explanation for where the first main character came from? His backstory is literally that his mom sold him for some cows??????????????????? WTF

Also just mudwing society in general is. It seems. Pretty weird. Like really weird.

“As the [human] shrieked again, she bent down and bit off its head.

“Blech,” she said, spitting it out again immediately. The head bounced across the grass as the body slowly toppled over, blood pouring out of it’s neck.”

UM?? OKAY!!

“She scored her talons along his wing, ripping open the scars”

“She shook Dune lightly, as if she were shaking the fluff off a dead pigeon. He clawed at her talons, his eyes bulging. “I mean, what use is a crippled dragon who cannot fly? I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself already, SandWing. But I can take care of that for you.”

DAMN????

“No!” Sunny screamed, leaping at them.

But it was too late. With a chilling crack, Queen Scarlet snapped Dune’s neck and dropped his body on the stone floor.

“Dune!” Sunny howled. She squirmed past Scarlet and crouched beside him, shaking him with her front talons. His mangled wing flopped, his scales scraped against the rocks. His black eyes were empty. “Dune, wake up!””

HOLY SHIT???? WHY WAS THIS NECESSARY FOR A CHILDRENS BOOK

WHAT THE FUCK

AND THIS IS JUST SOME OF THE FIRST BOOK, DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON LEGENDS OF DARKSTALKER MAN THAT SHIT WAS CRAZY

THIS IS BEING SOLD FOR NINE YEAR OLDS

THIS COULD VERY WELL BE A CHILD’S FIRST INTRODUCTION TO DEATH

WHAT WAS TUI THINKING???????????

LIKE ACTUALLY WHAT????

Honestly it is so unsurprising we turned out the way we did when this is what we were reading as a kid 😭

Literally our primary caretaker is named after Scarlet. The same scarlet in those quotes earlier. Like this shit is so in our brain and has been since we were twelve.

This shit. Is. Crazy.

And then every time I try to point out flaws In the writing or the plot ppl tell me “oh it’s not that deep it’s just a children’s book it’s not a big deal” LIKE. FUCKING. HELL IT IS.

ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO FUCKING WAY.

I am completely convinced that if we had never read these books our gorey pseudo memories would not be HALF as detailed and disturbingly accurate as they are now. Like seriously we did so well in anatomy classes because of this. Maybe that’s mostly the autism but i we never would have been so interested in anatomy if we weren’t trying to figure out how to draw anatomically accurate dragon disembowelment because of these damn books 😭

Anyways all this said I still fucking love wings of fire and I’m thinking of bringing back that thing where I draw cute cartoony dragons dying horribly :3

If anyone has horror stories about growing up reading wings of fire I want to hear them

WAIT ONE LAST THING- I forgot to mention the icewing massacre, attempted genocide, and general dragon racism….. hmmmm a topic for another time perhaps

[second-axis-point]

Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Reader

Warnings: None!

Content: Fluff!

I am also going crazy over Din so this was a treat. 😌 Thanks for the request!!

Your New Favourite Colour 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day that Din had asked you to be his boyfriend. Just thinking back on that memory warmed you to your very core. You doubted that he even remembered but you didn’t mind. He had a lot on his plate and you knew that he loved you regardless of celebrations or anniversaries. You had gone out the last time you were on-planet to get a small gift for him.

You arrived back to the Crest with a new cleaning cloth and a pulse rifle for Din and a jar of the little blue cookies for the kid. It was easier to hide the weapon from the Mandalorian than it was to hide the cookies from Grogu. He was grabbing at your trousers and babbling every time he saw you. Din gave you a confused tilt of his head when you grabbed him and hustled into the corridor.

“You can get your present tomorrow but you have to keep it a secret.”

Grogu rambled, saying nothing but obviously requesting the cookies now that he knew they were on board.

“I know, I know. I have a gift for both you and your dad but you can’t have it until tomorrow. I know you can do it Grogu, it’s just one night.”

He frowned but seemed to understand. You patted his head and thanked him quietly. He giggled and made grabby hands at your face. You walked back into the cockpit and sat down with Grogu in your lap. When Din looked over, you flashed him a lazy smile and Grogu cooed. He turned back and prepared for takeoff.

After you were a comfortable distance from any danger, the both of you prepared for the night. Once Grogu was comfortable and asleep in his little hammock, you stripped yourself of your outerwear. You watched as Din did the same. He took off most of his armour, leaving the helmet on as always. He settled into the small sleeping area and nestled into the corner, leaving room for you.

You burrowed in next to him, his helmet buried into your chest. You longed to see the man under the armour. You had loved him for over a year and hadn’t seen his face. You wished to kiss him and run your hands through his hair. Anything. But you respected his creed and kept your thoughts to yourself. But you did let yourself wonder what he looked like. He probably had short hair. Or at least short enough to tuck under his helmet. You tried to think of other features but just couldn’t. You slowly fell asleep in a quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the Razor Crest.

Din woke up and slipped out of your grasp, trying his very best not to wake you. He needed to grab the present he got for you. He got a warm toned bandana, after you had lost yours in the dunes of Tatooine, and a new holster for your blaster since your current one was a bit torn up. He also had other plans that he was extremely nervous about. He wanted to show you his face. He had already broken his creed for Grogu so why not for you too.

So he dressed back in his armour and made food. It was an easy breakfast that you would hopefully enjoy before figuring out whatever plans you had for the day. He set the plates out on the small table and walked back to find you changing by the sleeping area. His mouth went dry as he saw you tug off the shirt you wore to bed and toss it onto the bed. No matter how many times he saw you topless, he would never not be flustered by you. You dug through your drawer and grabbed a spare change of blacks to wear under your armour. 

You turned to see the Mandalorian standing motionless in the corridor. You gave him a reserved smile and walked up to him. You bumped your forehead against his and offered him a quiet ‘good morning’. He nodded his head and motioned towards the cramped kitchen. You noticed the meal he made and grabbed his arm, tugging him to the table. You took big bites and finished quickly, allowing Din the privacy to eat without being worried about hiding his face or lifting his helmet.

Din finished his breakfast just as quick and disposed of his dishes. He found you sitting with Grogu on the floor. He was playing with his ball and squealing. You watched him fondly and gave Din the same look when he sat down across from you.

“Any ideas for today?’

He asked you quietly. Grogu proudly presented his toy to his dad.

“Nothing set in stone.”

He tilted his head up and you watched the interaction between Din and the kid.

“I think just spending the day with you is good enough for me.”

You grinned at him. You both got to your feet to grab the presents you had gotten for each other. You met back where Grogu was continuing to play and sat back on the floor. He tossed the ball back on the floor and waddled towards you, apparently sensing the cookies hidden behind your back. You heard Din laugh through the modulator when you put the jar down in front of you. Grogu sat himself in your lap and you sat Din’s gifts by your legs. You heard him gasp when the rifle came into view. The two of you exchange presents and thanks. You scoot to sit next to him and watch as he admires the new rifle you got him. 

You, Din, and Grogu spent the day together. It was peaceful but you sensed that there was something bothering your partner. You wanted to bring it up but every time you tried, he brushed it off and said it was nothing. It wasn’t till the sun started to set and the kid was already in bed that he addressed it.

“You know about the time I showed my face?”

You looked at him but said nothing.

“I broke the creed for Grogu when I thought I’d never see him again. After that I was no longer considered a real Mandalorian. I always thought that their way was the way. But I’m making my own way now, and I want you to be a part of it.”

You turned to him fully, realising what he was about to do. He slowly reached up to the bottom of his helmet. Your eyes followed him as he pulled the beskar off his head and set it down next to him. You looked up to see the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes upon. He had shaggy, dark brown hair. He had stubble and deep chocolate eyes. You decided that you had a new favourite colour. You brought a hand up to his face and placed it gently on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“Din.”

He opened his eyes and looked into yours.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”

You smiled and pulled him forward to kiss his forehead. He looked incredibly relieved and basically melted into you.

“Happy anniversary Din.”

“Happy anniversary cyar’ika”

[intertexts]

Oh wait

You like fucked up towns?

Do you perhaps have any thoughts on towns and how to make them more fucked up? :]

(^^ words of something trying to make a small town map that’s fucked up)

OH. HUH. FUN QUESTION. i feel like. i am a terrible person to ask for thoughts on things like this because the extent of my writing is like, gay ass character studies & shit. but. i do have a ton of thoughts on fucked up towns.

the most important thing, i personally think, is having your town be grounded in a real regional place and it has to be a place you love. it's so difficult to make that shit up from scratch and still carry a real weight. and the horror or strangeness or sadness of the town should come from the reality of it.

picking a few of the easiest examples: welcome to night vale, night in the woods, h.p. lovecraft's miskatonic county. the fucked-up-ness of all of them springs from the nature of the place itself. they're not interchangeable, and they all have different emotions linked with them.

night vale is, very loosely, a satire of unbothered american suburbia in the face of-- well. all the horrific shit that post-9/11 unbothered americana ignores! and the strangeness and beauty of the setting comes from the easy and pleasant and mundane way that its citizens interact with the horror. it's day-to-day, it's chill, it's normal. yeah the faceless old lady who lives in your home is running for mayor. yeah the angels who work the community garden and live with josie finally won the case for their existence we can acknowledge them now cool. (& also of course night vale is a southwestern desert town & it doesn't let u forget that!! it's hot and sunny in the day and cold at night and there's sand dunes out by the edge of town and beaches with no lakes and it is very grounded in its setting!!)

possum falls from nitw, on the other hand, is a love letter to to those old, death spiraling pennsylvania rust belt mining towns. it isn't as heavily supernatural of a setting (outside of the old god in the mines the elders are sacrificing the most vulnerable members of the community to for nothing but the continued hollow, wheezing survival of something that should be allowed to die) but it's very grounded in the reality of those places-- the omnipresent forest, the dinky grocery store, your old high school classmate sitting out on her apartment steps at sunset, the feeling of being out in the autumn cold at dusk and the empty subway station and the weathered, half-hearted historical remnants of local pride and the ghost of the closed mine over it all. the type of dead-end, black hole, potholed main street town that you know you're gonna live and die in because it's what your parents did and what their parents did and god knows how you'd even make it out.

lovecraft-- i mean, mandatory disclaimer on his insane racism of course. up to u if u wanna read of his work, a lot of his short stories r very short etc. but crucially, for what we're talking about here, lovecraft was fucking in love with new england in the way that people who r born and raised in new england r insane about it. his lovecraft country/miskatonic county/arkham county is set in massachusetts, and he's very clear about why everything's set in mass: bleak, lonely, ancient, haunted by the sea and the lingering ghosts of twisted puritan ideology. his fucked up towns are the dark hidden backwoods, the port towns, the wretched things brought by settlers who have been a parasite upon the woods and the rocks and the fields for hundreds of years, etc, the feeling that something has gone wrong and perverted here and it's far too late to fix it.

so like, tl;dr-- don't try and make somewherw generically weird. figure out what place makes YOU go crazy go stupid. pinpoint Why it specifically makes u go crazy go stupid, as opposed to everywhere else. crank that shit up to 100!!!!

[lindszeppelin]

Austin stopped playing the Gerber's games last year in Cabo. That's when the cracks started to form. He was papped twice. Once while walking outside and then was seen talking to everyone but Kaia (becoming a pattern lol). The second time he hid himself under a damn towel. Never did that man ever do this with Vanessa. The fact that Kaia and her mom are so desperate for attention that Austin is hiding, just proves how terrible they truly are. **I don't think Randy or Presley really care about this relationship like Cindy did**

it's not just the paparazzi and need for attention that has ruined this relationship. But just the fact that they've barely spent any time together. In the two years they've dated, they hardly see each other. So of course, they don't really know each other well. Like the birthday cake mess last year. After Cabo, Austin went straight into press tour mode. He did MOTA, then jumped straight into the crazy Dune press tour. Then jumped straight into filming Eddington. Was seen few times with Kaia (in NYC smoking, and then her Palm Royale premiere (where he was hiding from everyone)) Then straight into Bikeriders press. He's barely been with Kaia. Which makes those "stronger than ever" headlines sound even more ridiculous. Especially when one of the few times they were seen together, back in May, they looked miserable and I mean absolutely miserable in NY. Austin's body language even then, said he was done. Throw in his team finally speaking out on his behalf about where he sees things going, some shady likes on Instagram and here we are now.

Two months later and Austin is absolutely done. I've never seen him act so cold towards Kaia. She deserves it too for constantly using him for clout and attention. Throw her mother into the mix, and well this relationship is over. I wouldn't be surprised if Kaia returned to LA because Austin dumped her last week.

I would suggest Austin stopped their games earlier than their last Cabo holiday. He stopped bringing her to his events after the Time 100 Gala in April. And ever since then it's been a steady decline. But Cabo 100% was something he obviously didn't want to do, he hid away 90% of the trip, he was only papped outside 3 time and the rest of the weeks he was inside. Being around her entire family this time and not just her parents plus Travis like before i think was also a huge moment that opened everyone's eyes. This year, the vibe has been off from the jump from everybody.

Her parents knew he wouldn't commit, Kaia has clearly been clinging and hoping he would stay being her insecure and clingy self, and Austin knew he wouldn't commit. After Kaia bit back at her parent's L&S article by saying Cindy was meddling, i think her parents were hands off from that point on like "okay, you do whatever the hell you want to do". Of course they're helping her out by throwing in some People and DM articles, but aside from that they're not doing anything else. They didn't seem to care that Austin was hidden, literally, at the Palm Royale thing. I think Presley is more pissed off than anything, and seeing as this is his sister we're talking about, the fact that he was the one to share that pic of Austin days after the fact on his stories just shows that he is willing to play dirty alongside Kaia if backup is what she needed.

I don't remember how I was intending to end my message but, the end lol.

[stvlti]

the last of the (false) prophets | a Dune fanmix

I've made the general Dune Part II mixtape and I've made the ironic FeydPaul mixtape, it's time for a Paul-centric playlist. This one is also made in the context of Part II because that film has bewitched me mind, body and soul 😔

► TRACKS

01. Eat the Acid - Kesha /// 02. Brutus - Emma Blackery /// 03. DNA - Kendrick Lamar /// 04. THE REV3NGE - Joey Bada$$ /// 05. Burning - Yeah Yeah Yeahs /// 06. Darwinism - Halsey /// 07. Found Heaven - Conan Gray /// 08. Only in My Dreams - The Marías /// 09. Routines in the Night - Twenty One Pilots /// 10. Jesus Lived In A Motel Room - HYUKOH /// 11. Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Parts I–V) - Pink Floyd /// 12. Writer In The Dark - Lorde /// to be continued...

Tracklist updated on 18 Nov 2024.

► META

I think the song choices are pretty self explanatory, so I'm not gonna write a big long song-by-song breakdown this time. I do have some notes on the choice of cover artwork and the pov of this playlist though.

If it isn't apparent by now, Paul isn't my fave character in Dune canon – Feyd-Rautha is. So why am I making a playlist dedicated to a character I don't even love?

In my years of consuming and creating art for my fandoms, I don't think I've ever come across a morally grey character that's half as complex and intriguing as Paul. Sure, I'm familiar with corruption arcs and self-styled messianic figures (Light Yagami from Death Note comes to mind). I've written for and continue to love characters who underwent cataclysmic deaths and resurrections, and came back wrong (see: Jason Todd from DC/Batman). And sure, Paul's character arc can similarly be boiled down to these familiar story beats of resurrection and corruption, but he's no angel at the start of his journey. He's aware of the trajectory of his story in ways these other characters aren't by virtue of being a seer of prescient visions. To walk clear-sightedly into his own ruination is such a fascinating thing to me.

Those familiar with the Major Arcana suit of the tarot cards will know the significance of The Fool: he is at the start of his journey, appearing to walk leftwards off a cliff with an optimistic smile because he's as yet unburdened by higher knowledge of lurking dangers. Like The Fool, I have Paul facing leftwards on this cover (flipped horizontally from the original Dune 2021 IMAX poster), because he too is embarking on a transformative journey when he enters the Arrakis deserts. The difference is, of course, that he becomes aware of his terrible destiny as a messianic figurehead for a holy war as soon as he sets off for this journey. And so it isn't with carefree optimism but the knowledge of his ruin hanging heavily on his shoulders that he takes his first steps into the desert.

The other major difference between the playlist cover and the Fool's tarot card design is how much smaller Paul's figure is in the composition of the whole image. The desert background easily dwarves his figure, which is something I've always loved about the IMAX poster. Despite all his visions of futures where he ascends to the mantle of a messianic leader, he is still just, at this moment in the canon timeline, a child. Small, and all alone in his journey. Not even his mother Lady Jessica would come to understand the weight of the transformation he will undergo.

Many of the songs on this playlist were ones that didn't make the cut for my general Dune playlist. But as I went along I realised it's grown into a love letter for Paul's character from the perspective of a sympathetic reader. "Found Heaven" and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" only make sense as monologues addressed to Paul.

Your heart is breaking as you leave that door

You never meant to start this holy war

But you're trapped, pack your bags

Don't look back

Don't be scared, little child

You're no demon

Rewatching Dune Part I really brought it home for me just how much of a child Paul still is when he enters the Fremen's deserts. He is frightened out of his mind by the knowledge that he will come to be the figurehead for whom millions will wage a holy war to the devastation of entire planets and deaths of billions, and it's a burden for him to bear alone. Did anyone ever stop to tell him not to fear?

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun ...

Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky ...

You were caught on the crossfire of childhood and stardom,

Blown on the steel breeze ...

Come on you raver, you seer of visions,

Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

If I'm not mistaken, "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" was written for Pink Floyd's own Syd Barrett, a genius lyricist whose declining mental health forced him to quit the scene too soon. Obvious parallels to Paul's madness aside, I like the metaphor this adds to Paul as not only a prophet but a painter / artist – which he is to an extent. He is an architect shaping the world into a future only he sees. The tragedy is of course that visionary artists often go where their lovers can't follow.

Now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart

Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark

I am my mother's child, I'll love you 'til my breathing stops

I'll love you 'til you call the cops on me

But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power

I'll find a way to be without you, babe

[fandomfuntimem]

Unsertant regret

More + Undertale yellow spoilers below the cut.

Refference:

Inbetweens:

Extra sketches + notes of adult Clover:

This game WRETCHED MY SOUL.

I was all like "wow! Ceroba's fight is hard but really cool! I wonder how they'll do the Asgore scene" THEN MY BABY BOY FUCKING SACRIFICES HIMSELF!?!?!? FFFJFJDKAJQHS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

But anyways. My Adult Clover au. I wanted the designe to look like him, but not crazy close to all the other people's designes (which are all absolutely magnificent). I decided on a ponytale like Ceroba's. Tho im not to sure about the bangs.

The second designe with the fox mask is his "monster" disguise. Ceroba made it for him so he could go outside the Wild East. If asked, he's just a haunted mask piloting a magic body (Dumb dumb thought of that in a panic when Papyrus looked at him too closely.)

He's about in his late 20s to early 30s. The Dunes are pretty deap down, so the royal gaurds dont go down there often. Everyone in the area just wordlessly agreed not to talk about the human living with them. After years of no gaurds the Feisty Five whent from playing games, to being a genuin low inforcing group. But they go by Clover's rules. Be kind and understanding, don't just start with violence.

Ceroba and Starlo got married after a while and both adopted Clover. Ceroba would litteraly shred anyone who tries to take her baby away from her, and Starlo has had to put in a few bribes and threats to keep the gaurd off his turf.

Now, Clover himself. He's goofy, wants everyone to smile, and is generally just the blooming flower of the Dunes. If you need help, he'll be there. But, in private, he is solemn. He misses the surface, the sun, the fresh air. He's glad he has his family, he really is, but he wants them to see the surface with him. He wants freedom for all. In this timeline, he almost gave up his soul. But Ceroba, Starlo, and Martlet talked him down and convinced him to live with them. But even years later, he still ponders that choice. He sees how hopeless some monsters are getting, he sees the hunt for humans getting more intense. So sometimes he wonders if he should hand himself over. But he would never tell him family that.