#believe it or not this was not what i intended to draw today but it stuck in my head

[xehanortsreport]

he didn't need to say all that though.

[theobsessivesideblog]

Trust Issues

An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.

Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well

————————

He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 

But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 

He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 

“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 

“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”

“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.

You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.

He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 

His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 

“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”

He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 

“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”

“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 

Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 

“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”

“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”

“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”

“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”

His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”

You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.

“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 

His brow furrows in confusion. 

“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”

Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 

“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.

“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”

“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 

“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 

“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”

[factual-fantasy]

Guess who's big day it is! :DD Bibi's!!

Man, its hard to believe he's only two years old. It feels like he's been around a lot longer than that.. And hey, what was nice about this bday is I didn't have to draw much for it <XDD

Believe me, I would have loved to draw a big special comic for his birthday like I did last year. But considering all the stress I've been under latelyyy.. I knew that Bibi wouldn't have wanted that. His only birthday wish would be for me to relax and maybe take a nap <XDD

So that's what I drew! The 5 of us all hunkering down for a several hour long power nap. XD I don't intend on doing much today either. I plan to just work on myself and take it easy. Drink some water, maybe get a snack or two. Go to bed at a peaceful time and maybe watch some Octonauts. I think Bibi would like that <XDD

Happy Birthday my little cretauere!! 🥰💖🎉

[wwaheoh]

hehe, i know im probably not the first and definitely won't be the last to ask, but we need a part 3 of the rejected confession series!! whether its a happy ending of reader and the character getting together or just making up and staying friends (or forever parting ways) we need closure!! so when you think you are ready for it, could we possibly have a final part? :,)

“Reconciliation”, Zenless Zone Zero x gnReader

Von Lycaon, Anby Demara, Zhu Yuan

a/n: thank yall so much for the support! its meant so much! i hope everyone enjoys the "good ending" to the Unrequited Love series.

a/n²: also thanks to that one anonymous requester, loved your ideas and helped a bunch when writing! hope i did well in realizing it!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The day before heading to the scheduled meet, you were stressed out of your mind. Having made up your mind, you decided to go, whether it be for reconciliation or- no, you shouldn’t think so optimistically. Maybe this was just a way for them to berate you for ghosting them before cutting ties forever…

With that optimistic thought, you made your way back home, finally getting off the bench you’d been glued to with thought after the brief encounter with the shark-girl. Sorta embarrassing to be told to fix your relationship by a high school girl but at this point any push that didn’t get you deeper into becoming a shut-in was better than none.

Stepping into your home, you shut and locked the door behind you before heading to your room, beelining straight for the closet. Sliding it open, you began to look through the hanged clothing, contemplating what you should wear. Something cute? Something bold? Something that you’d think he’d like or something you felt comfortable in?

After several minutes of this, you finally picked out an outfit, now onto actually getting sleep. Setting the clothes onto a chair, you went to your bathroom and undressed, putting on sleepwear and throwing yourself onto the bed.

A wave of exhaustion passed through you, wow, you were a lot more tired than you thought…

///

The outing with you had been going well, Lycaon thought, today was a beautiful day, thankfully Rina was aiding Corin today so he had no worries about being forced to cut it short and attend to any accidents their junior was prone to.

Strolling by the pier of Lumina Square, water a sunset orange as thr Sun began to set into the horizon, you stopped walking, with him following, a sign of confusion on his face.

“Hey, Lycaon?” You spoke nervously, demeanor slightly shaking. Worry began to draw in, not outwardly showing it, not wanting to make you more nervous in speaking. Something that he usually did when with clients- unconsciously leading him to thinking of you as a client rather than his friend at the moment.

Then you confessed.

His mind stopped- cool breaking as the words spilled out of your mouth and into his ears. Forcing his tail to not wag, he was about to reply. Yet what came out of his mouth was not what he intended, having forced his brain into ‘work mode’ to protect himself from all the possibilities of what you might have said.

So instead of accepting your feelings, happily rejoicing and telling you that he returned them wholeheartedly. He… rejected you. The words tumbled out of his mouth, rushed, the professional tone he used with clients slipped in. As if he were a prisoner in his body.

The look you gave him immediately showed he screwed up. Unable to approach as you began to cry, not wanting to take back the words- not because he believed them, but because he believed you would think he was simply pitying you and throwing a bone.

“I’ll start the car up. It’s getting late.”

“I- it’s- hic- it’s f-fine. I’ll get home on m-my own.”

“I must insi-”

“I said it’s fine!”

His ears drooping, wild guilt painted on his face, internally berating himself for having somehow messed up the interaction of his dreams. He went back to his car, turning it on and beginning the drive back home.

Atleast, that’s what he led you to believe. Instead, he parked in a nearby alley before shadowing you- unwilling to not see you home.

The day after that, he texted you, yet you never responded. Days of being left on ‘Read’ became days of you not opening his text messages at all.

It had begun to get at him, his voice became colder than usual with clients, still professional but with more sharpness to it. The others noticed their boss acting like this, yet were unable to pry into the why. It was a shared silent agreement between them and their boss, a wall between their professional work and personal lives. He met with Master Phatheon a few times and even they noticed something was off with the butler.

One day Ellen overheard him murmuring, quickly figuring out who he was so hung up about and what had happened- with some aid from Miss Rina. Unbeknownst to Lycaon, she met up with you unexpectedly, getting you to meet with Lycaon at the cafe. With Rina “booking an appointment” with a client, for Lycaon to meet with at the very same time.

///

Stepping into the cafe, bell jingling behind you, looking around the cafe before finding the spot Ellen had directed you to, tilting her head to the farthest seat with her signature bored look and lollipop in mouth. Nodding gratefully, you made your way to the table and sat down. Nerves ablaze, you fixed your clothes, making sure nothing was out of place. Worries bubbled up in your mind, thoughts of what could go wrong swirling in the bubbling soup of anxiousness.

Silver fur snapped you out of your spiraling, the Therian that’d been on your mind now realized in front of you. He mirrored your expression of shock, not having thought to see you again, before he quickly closed the gap, holding you tightly.

“I am so sorry.” Breathless, he looked deep into your eyes, “I had not meant to say what I did. I do wish to be with you. If you’d have me.” Not a man to screw up an opportunity like this- especially after having messed up so badly, any and all grievances be damned- he would say his peace and lay his heart into your hands, to either hold or crush at your whim.

You returned his hold, tears welling up as the two of you embraced, hearts swelling with joy as his hard, fluffy body pressed tightly against you, finally together once more. Sobbing openly as finally, the two of you were together, this time as lovers.

It was a little awkward stepping out of the cafe, with some customers very obviously glancing at the two of you after your two very public reunion…

After Anby had run from your confession, she spent a lot of time rewatching movies. Romance and tragedy specifically, trying to find a solution to what has transpired. The rest of the Cunning Hares were confused about her seemingly out of nowhere interest in those genres, usually seeing her watch action or thrillers.

There was an aching in her heart, one she had originally attributed to the loss of a friend, yet it felt stronger, much stronger. As she watched more and more, she came across an animated film, one of a failed relationship, of how being apart makes the heart grow fonder, ending with the two getting together, stronger than before.

That’s what she wanted.

While originally she was true to herself, only wanting you as a friend, time revealed that she wanted more, especially after forcing herself to dodge into alleys after even a glimpse of your hair, oftentimes leading to odd looks from the Cunning Hares or Phaethon. She wanted to be closer to you, like how the protagonists in the films were.

Standing up, resolution in her heart and an apology on her tongue, she exited the door and began making her way to your abode, moonlight and street lamps lighting the way.

///

You couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a one-off occurrence either. Thoughts powered by the late night struck harshly, leaving lasting impressions that made sleep impossible. Especially those of a particular silver-haired girl.

Sighing, you shook your head, as if to shake the thoughts physically out, getting up from your bed and heading to the kitchen. Opening up the refrigerator, you grabbed a cold pitcher of water and a cup from the cupboard, turning the pitcher and letting the cool liquid spill into the cup, only turning it back upright as it neared the top.

Putting the pitcher back into the fridge before closing it, you grabbed the cup and steadily began to drink from it. Refreshing, always helping whenever those thoughts arrive…

A notification from your phone rang out, having left it in your bedroom you began to make your way to said room, when a knock at the door stopped you. Nothing good ever came from someone at your door at near midnight.

Grabbing a nearby object- your hand finding the handle of a knife, you quietly made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole, you saw a familiar face that made your muscles freeze.

Anby, staring right back at you. In her usual getup, with the same mono-look, but a hint of anxiousness hidden in her eyes.

Setting the knife down onto the counter, you slowly opened up the door, nerves threatening a rebellion against your body as you opened the door.

Finally face to face with Anby, without the blurriness and fish-eye view that the peephole provided, you could see how less kept she was than usual. Eyes tinged with red- a sign of screen overuse. Sweat, faster breaths, a flush of red coloring her pale cheeks.

The two of you stared at each other for a second before she quickly closed in.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked, monotone as it was, a hint of breathiness from her seemingly having sprinted here from wherever she was prior. “I shouldn’t have ran.”

You didn’t know what to do, worried that nodding or shaking your head would give the wrong impression- whatever the impression you wanted to give was lost to you.

You just stood there, listening to what she had to say.

“In the movies they always get together after the first confession. But it didn’t feel right at the time- but it also didn’t feel right saying no.”

A silence before you decided to share your two cents.

“Anby-” her attention diverted back to you straightaway, “How about this. We date for a bit- say, a year, then if you feel like it’s right, then we can continue. If not, then atleast we tried…”

“Just don’t run again, even being friends would be better than never seeing you again.”

She quickly closed the gap between the two of you, embracing you tightly, with you following suit. “Okay…” her voice was shaky, her grip on you was not.

Okay actually it was too tight- “Anby I think you’re gonna break my spine!”

Stepping out of your assigned police car, you nodded to your partner as they exited the vehicle and went to leave the premises. Qingyi having gone back to Zhu Yuan’s side after the one day the two of you were assigned together, message delivered, you wondered how she pulled off getting to be your partner.

You began to make your way to Zhu Yuan’s desk, with her filling out some final papers regarding what happened to the blimp atop of the Ballet Twins Towers. A situation that had been narrowly avoided ending in catastrophe by an inorganic citizen being insusceptible to the knock-out gasses found in the systems of the victims. Her squadron had been the first to the scene, being stopped at the first tower before being forced to evacuate and find another way up by several explosives being detonated at the bridge.

It was a headache for everyone involved, happy that the worse situation happened but not looking forward to the amount of paperwork needed to be filed, especially since the prime suspect of a major case and now this case had gone off-grid with the blimp to who knows where now.

Thankfully it seemed Zhu Yuan didn’t mind it too much, all too happy to do her work, no matter how monotonous it seemed. Turning off the computer for the day and filing papers into cabinets, she had been adding a sprinkle of water into the tomato plant she’d been growing, thoughts swirling as she continued with the monotonous task.

///

It’d been days since she last saw you. Invitations declined, only glimpses of you before you seemingly disappeared into the crowd or entered somewhere she couldn’t follow. Her days had been growing duller, work becoming a distraction to her problems.

Her mom had commented on this, citing worries about how she’d been seemingly throwing herself deeper into work and training, questioning the near-null appearances of you in recent times. She hated to lie to them, yet didn’t want to confront the facts.

She’d been too late to tell you how she felt. She would never get the opportunity again...

One day Qingyi told Zhu Yuan that she'd have to stay a little later, orders given to her to give to Zhu Yuan a little extra work. While to most, this’d be an annoyance, Zhu Yuan readily accepted the new work, not wanting to go back to her lonely apartment.

///

You knocked on the doorframe- breaking her out of her thoughts, face lighting up as she laid eyes on you.

“Uh, hey Zhu Yuan…” She set the water-can down and stood up hastily. “Hey! Uhm…” The two of you stood awkwardly as you tried to form the words you wanted to say.

“I’m sorry.” Zhu Yuan looked at you, worry on her face, urging you to continue. While she had been hurt from how you were seemingly avoiding her, she still looked at you as a close friend.

“It’s… stupid of me. But I wanted to tell you that…”

You confessed, deciding to put all your trust in Qingyi and just do it. Ripping the proverbial band-aid off, the words tumbled out.

She stood there, wide-eyed as you finished. There was a brief silence before tears began to bunch at the edge of her eyes. Your heart stopped, worried that you’d done something wrong before she closed the gap and embraced you, repeating “Yes!” and “I like you too!”, nearly squealing in delight.

You were dazed from how hard she was shaking you, before finally getting a hold. “So.. you’re not into Qingyi?”

“Huh? No, where’d you get that idea?”

“Ahh…” it was a little embarrassing to admit this in hindsight, “I thought since… you looked at her like that, that you…”

She giggled a little, before stopping quickly, “Sorry- I- I looked like that because I was thinking of you. Just, I looked away anytime you looked at me since I didn’t know if you returned my feelings…”

“Ah…”

Finally love bloomed, no longer covered by the walls of uncertainty.

[severussnapemylove]

Sometimes I wonder if JKR even realises she wrote Snape as a victim of sexual assault. Because he unambiguously is, and she writes him as traumatised by the incident. So it seems mad to suggest that she might not have thought through the implications of her own writing, but if she did get it, I am baffled by how sympathetic she remains to James. Harry is never really made to confront how vile his actions were, because he looks for comfort from Remus and Sirius rather than telling Hermione who would react in horror and disgust, and he gets to skip over it completely in The Prince’s Tale. JKR clearly considers James a hero, and has confirmed that in interviews. She’s even more sympathetic to Lily, who is portrayed as an absolute paragon of goodness, morality and virtue, despite her being attracted enough to James *after* he publicly commits sexual assault on a less privileged kid to marry him! What a malfunctioning moral compass. JKR also has no sympathy at all for Tom Riddle Sr, who is a victim of rape, and his rapist Merope Gaunt, who is herself strongly implied to be a victim of incestual abuse, is condemned by Dumbledore and the narrative not for what she did to Tom but for not being as courageous as nice, pretty, middle class Lily Evans because Merope committed the crime of…dying in childbirth. The only conclusions I can draw from this is that JKR is the sort of ´feminist’ who doesn’t believe men can be the victims of sexual crimes, and that deep down she thinks being a member of the underclass who can’t drag themselves out of it alone is indicative of moral failure.

This! All of this!

I don't think she puts it together at all. She's incredibly tone deaf about a lot of the abuse she puts these characters through. And with the blasé attitude she has about male victims of SA in the books definitely goes along her brand of toxic radical "feminism". It looks like she just doesn't recognise the severity of what happens to these characters. On top of Severus's attack and Tom Riddle Sr, remember that Ron was roofied with love spell that was intended for Harry, and Moaning Myrtle is incredible predatory towards the boys. Sadly, this attitude carries over from the author to a chunk of the fandom too. I've seen so much dismissiveness of the assaults against the male characters, especially Severus. And it's even more disappointing when I see people who have experienced abuse saying that what Severus endured "didn't count" as abuse. Had someone today on another platform having an absolute meltdown at me, saying that what happened in SWM wasn't sa, and that he wasn't traumatised from his abuse and if his anger was caused by trauma then why wasn't Harry the same. Seriously, you can't tell another person that what they experienced wasn't "bad enough to be abuse", that's a very warped mentality. Survivors are supposed to support each other, not belittle each other's trauma. Also, what book did they read that they think Harry doesn't have issues from the life he endured? He has different issues than Severus, yes, because he had different life experiences and everyone's reactions to trauma are different.

"Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage."

WTF is this!!!??? This is just plain victim blaming. "Your mothers' courage"? Lily had supportive, loving parents, was loved by her peers, admired by her teachers, had a very comfortable, secure life. Merope was physically and mentally abused for her whole life. They really criticized the poverty stricken, abuse victim for not being as "strong" as the Mary Sue of the Wizarding World??? Toxic as hell. Personally, as someone who has dealt with self-harm, mental illness and generational trauma in my family, this attitude of "they weren't strong enough" is nauseating and infuriating.

There really is a disturbing trend of extreme poverty equalling a dead-end life with no hope. Which is again an extremally toxic and judgmental attitude and a very dangerous message to put in a book aimed to children. The attitude towards abuse, poverty and indecent assault of men is beyond problematic, not only in the books but in far too many members of the fandom.

I could rant more but this will go on for pages.

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 ⌝

DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ Despite everything, he’s still crying. Shiny droplets rolling down his cheeks almost rhythmically as he pants under you. — Your stomach twists as your attention falls on the dark hues adorning his neck and collarbone. Not only had he fucked her, he’d let her do that to him as well, and he came home wearing it, like some fucking souvenir. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⸝⸝

wc -> 2.6k

pairings non idol!yeonjun x fem!reader warnings infidelity, cheater!yeonjun, hurt no comfort, angst, yeonjun cries a lot, handjob, unprotected sex + pullout, meandom!reader, sub!yeonjun, pathetic/desperate yeonjun, nipple play, slapping, degrading, use of "whore", implied marking, big time sad.

#serene adds ✎ I wasn't planning on writing this today but you know the saying of "striking when the iron is hot", well yeah it was practically on fire so I kind of had to. this is not proofread in the slightest oops.

Your usually cozy and warm bedroom feels dark and distant. The air is cold and it causes goosebumps to rise on the naked skin of your arms. Low and hushed sobs fill the dense atmosphere as Yeonjun huddles by your feet. — It was an almost pitiful sight, seeing his disheveled hair, the fat droplets of tears that rolled down his flushed cheeks, bottom lip quivering as he gulped down a breath of air. 

But you did not pity him. In fact, you think you might even hate him. Because when you regard his pathetic frame, trembling hands clawing at the hem of your skirt as his wet face leaves damp spots on the fabric, you feel nothing but disgust. His touch no longer felt warm, nor did it feel comforting. It felt foreign, dirty and tainted with something else, someone else. 

“Please, p-please baby it wasn’t like that!” 

He pleads and he pleads, fingers curling around the flimsy cotton as he tugs himself closer, shuffling on the floor beneath you. A vile grimace darkens your expression as you peer down at him with disdain. — “Get off of me.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes snap up to yours, they’re wide and terrified as he shakes his head. “B-Baby please, you have to believe me!” — Believe him? What an ironic thought indeed. Time and time again, you had believed him, told yourself that you were overreacting, that you were being delusional, that you were a bad girlfriend. You believed him when he told you not to worry about the late nights he worked, about the sudden business meetings, about the team dinners; about the nights you spent alone in bed, foolishly waiting for someone you thought longed to get home to you. 

With the small kick off your heel to his stomach, Yeonjun tumbles back, landing on his ass with a thud and he blinks up at you with teary eyes. “Believe you?” You huff, pulling out your phone as you wave the device in front of him. “Is this what you want me to believe? That this was intended for me, and not that colleague of yours?” 

You watch as his dilated pupils practically explode when they land on the hotel reservation being presented before him, and he audibly swallows. He knows that he’s gotten caught, yet he still tries to lie his way out of it. — It hurts. Not only because he cheated. But because it wasn’t with just anyone. She was special. Yeonjun had never looked at you like that, not once during the three years in which you had been together, the three years in which you had done everything for him. 

Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and you draw in a shaky breath. He wouldn’t get to see you cry, not anymore and never again. 

“Let’s end things.” 

The statement shouldn’t have taken him by surprise but it seems to have as Yeonjun feebly shakes his head, a loud sob ripping from his throat. “No!” He wails, immediately crawling back to wrap his arms around your legs, pressing his cheek flat against your thighs as he resumes his pitiful crying. — You want to push him off, tell him that he’s disgusting and that you want nothing more to do with him. 

“P-Please..” His voice is hushed, jagged and ruined by him choking on his own tears, “i-it was a mistake I s-swear! I would n-never do that to y-you, I- I love you!” By the end he sounds almost strained, high-pitched and desperate as he clings to you. — Love. What a pathetic emotion. If this was love then you didn’t want it. 

“Do you think shit will be okay just because you said that?” You seethe, fingers curling into fists by your sides as you fight off the urge to kick him off once more. Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, merely hugging himself closer as he cries into your skirt, biting back whimpers as he snivels. — “Do you think I'll forgive you? That I’ll kiss you and tell you that everything is fine?” 

He hiccups at your words, shaking his head shamefully as his fingers twist against the smooth fabric of your clothes. “Is that what you want?” You ask, your voice suddenly shifting into an eerily calm one, but Yeonjun doesn’t seem to pick up on the change as he continues to sob. — “Answer me.” Your demand makes his head jerk up and he hesitates for only a second before he nods, biting his swollen bottom lip carefully. With a small huff you avert your gaze, taking a step back as you shrug him off once more. 

Then you kneel down, the rich carpet is soft under your bare legs and you regard your boyfriend with a look of fabricated sympathy. Yeonjun on the other hand looks wary as he awkwardly swallows, his gaze flitting between your eyes nervously as he exhales. — He lets out a noise of surprise when you suddenly cup his cheek, leaning in to press a small kiss against his wobbling lips. Though he quickly falls into your embrace as he lets your tongue dwell deep inside his waiting mouth, gliding along his own as he whimpers. 

It didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t the same. And you hated it. 

With a small hiss you withdraw, making him look at you with an alarmed expression as he tries to speak, though no words come out. — “On the bed.” Is all you say, your voice suddenly cold and demanding. The subtle shift makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand and Yeonjun scrambles to his feet as he hurries for the bed, gingerly plopping down on the mattress. 

You’re quick to follow behind, looming over his uncertain figure as you study him closely. “Undress.” — “W-What?” His question makes you groan and you reach for the collar of his shirt, yanking the first few buttons open. “This is what you wanted, no? For things to go back to normal, for me to say that it’s all okay.” 

He parts his lips but remains silent, slowly nodding as his hands raise to resume the work you’d started on his sweater. — Once the garment falls from his shoulders, you push him back, making yourself comfortable on his lap as you straddle him. He looks confused, but there’s an undeniable glimmer of hope flickering behind his eyes as you reach for your own blouse, slowly pulling it over your head. 

“You want to pretend like nothing’s ever happened?” You wonder as you lean forward, the tip of your finger resting on his chin and Yeonjun nods. He was so used to you complying, used to you believing him, he had grown comfortable with your naivety. And now you were paying the price for it. — “Yeah? You want to pretend like you never fucked that woman?” — His face falls at the statement and he immediately objects, just like you had expected him to. “Baby I didn’t I swear, it’s a misunderstanding you have to believe-” 

Smack! 

The slap echoes through the air and Yeonjun’s rant immediately cuts short as his eyes blow wide. Your hand stings but you ignore it, instead focusing on the red mark blooming across his cheek, satisfaction beating within your chest. — “You fucking liar.” Your voice is close to breaking but you don’t care. Thumb and index finger digging into his cheeks as he tries shaking his head, as he tries denying the blatant truth once more. 

Tears spill from his eyes yet again, his nose becoming stuffed as he fights to inhale through it. You pay him little mind, your hand wandering down his stomach until you reach the hem of his pants. A final glance his way shows that he’s both anticipating and fearful of your next move, his body squirming under you as he tries to make sense of the situation. 

He gasps when your fingers wrap around his semi-erect cock, working quickly to get him hard as you pull back to spit on your hand. “Probably won’t be as good as your previous fuck I fear”, you mutter as your thumb rubs his tip harshly, making him whine as his hips buck. — The wet streaks on his cheek have yet to stop and he continues to sob, mindlessly shaking his head as small hiccups of “no’s” and “wasn’t like that”, leaves his lips. 

“No I bet it wasn’t”, you drawl, pulling him from his briefs as you lean back to work your hand along his throbbing cock. “I bet it was just a mistake”, you sigh, slowing down momentarily as your gaze shifts to his face. Yeonjun’s eyes are wide as he stares up at the ceiling, short pants passing his parted lips and his face is puffy and red from crying. — “Was it?” You repeat your question, and it makes his head lull forward as he nods. 

“Y-Yes! W-Was a m-mistake!” He breathes, chest heaving as he tries to win you over, tries to win you back. You have to bite back the insults already waiting on your tongue as you regard his pathetic attempts at showing remorse. “And you’re sorry?” — The hand on his cock has almost completely stopped now and Yeonjun writhers uncomfortably under you as he nods feebly. “Y-Yes, I’m s-sorry, please baby!” He chokes the words out between his tears.  

It was tempting to give in, to believe him, just like you always did. The thought of falling back into your old habit of ignorant bliss, of unawareness and your life in the dark.. It scared you more than anything. You refused to become that person once more. You refused to put up with the shit that Yeonjun would make you endure, all because you wanted to be a good girlfriend. That obviously wasn’t enough. 

Instead you lift your skirt up, instructing him to hold it for you as you slide your panties to the side, drawing a lazy finger across your unenthusiastic cunt. Yeonjun practically whimpers at the sight of you touching yourself before him, cock twitching as it demands attention. But you can’t muster another feeling besides disgust. Bet he couldn’t wait to fuck the next thing that as much as moved. 

He emits a strangled moan as you slide down on him, nestling him between your legs just like you had so many times before. Except everything was different today. — His hands are on your hips as he tugs you forward, desperate for you to meet his eager thrusts as he buries himself deep inside of your tight and burning core. 

Despite everything, he’s still crying. Shiny droplets rolling down his cheeks almost rhythmically as he pants under you. — Your stomach twists as your attention falls on the dark hues adorning his neck and collarbone. Not only had he fucked her, he’d let her do that to him as well, and he came home wearing it, like some fucking souvenir. 

“What a fucking whore.” You mutter, nails scraping across the marks and Yeonjun whimpers at the contact to the sensitive skin. There was no denying his actions now, he knew it too, lip trembling as he followed your lingering gaze. — “A liar and a whore, what else are you?” Your pace is slow as you grind against him, feeling his cock twitch with every clench of your cunt around him. He doesn’t answer, the only sounds he emits are wailing cries and whimpers as he loses himself in a guilt-ridden state of ecstasy. 

“Do you like it? Do you like being covered in the filth of another woman?” You practically yell, making him whimper as he shakes his head, breath catching in his throat as he fumbles for words. — Biting the inside of your cheek, you let your hands splay across his chest, not bothering to leave any marks of your own, you didn’t want him to have a single piece of you left. Instead your focus shifts to his perked nipples, fingers coming up to play with the sensitive buds as Yeonjun arches off the mattress with a weak moan. 

“Disgusting fucking whore”, you grit, fighting off the tears as you increased your pace on him, hips snapping against his. “Doesn't matter who it is as long as you get your dick wet.” — He’s stopped trying to object, merely accepting his fate as he sobs out into the dark room, his hands on your hips trembling as he tries pulling you closer. 

“Get your hands off of me”, you grunt, prying him from your body before your fingers reattach themselves around his nipples, pulling and twisting them as you gauge his reaction. Yeonjun whines as his head falls back against the pillow, drool forming in the corner of his mouth before it slowly rolls down the side of his chin. “Mhhn, p-please baby..” He mumbles, his expression dazed as he struggles to see straight. 

Unbelievable. He still had the nerve to ask such a thing. “You’re funny if you honestly think I’m going to let you come anywhere near me, let alone inside”, you spit, watching as his brows draw together in a confused frown, fingers twisting in the bed sheets as he swallows a small wail. 

His cock continues to twitch inside of you and with a quiet huff you pull off, to which Yeonjun groans as his hips buck in an attempt to chase after you. — It felt good, seeing him like this, completely worn out and spent before you. His hair standing in all directions, body glistening in a sheer layer of sweat, his cheeks red and puffed as they lay coated in his tears. It didn’t matter that he’d cheated, because even if he did, you were the one who got to see him like this, you were the one who made him like this. 

Your hand returns to stroke him, relishing in the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth to muffle the noises he’d previously been letting out so shamelessly. And when he comes you let it splatter across his stomach, adding to the filth and dirt already covering him as he cries in your grasp. But you didn’t take pity on him, not once. Because when did he ever take pity on you? 

As his breathing evens out, his cock softening, and his tears gradually subsiding, Yeonjun finally lifts his gaze to look at you. His expression is best described as hopeful. He still thinks he’s got you wrapped around his finger. He still thinks that you’ll forgive him for everything he’s done. — But you won’t.

“Get out.” 

He looks surprised, startled even, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “What?” He croaks, his voice hoarse as he props himself up on his elbows. You frown, eyes boring into his, “I said get out, did you not hear me?” — “We’re over, Yeonjun.” 

Just as you thought he would finally stop crying, does his tears resurface. You wondered why he cried. Because he surely wasn’t mourning the loss of you, he’d made that very clear the second he got in another woman’s bed. You don’t care for his tears, not anymore. You don’t care for him anymore. And even if Yeonjun did care about you, in his own twisted and fucked up way, it was far too late now, he knew that too. 

The bedroom door shuts minutes later and you’re left alone, just as alone as you had been all those nights without him. It didn’t feel much different, and you wondered why you hadn’t done this sooner.

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[sheepwavehdg]

I am generally disappointed with the place the HDG Foundational Works have ended up in among the broader readership and fandom of the setting.

Despite the fact that the foundational works page literally says it is not intended to be the definitive introduction to the setting, it is common in spaces devoted to the fandom for it to be presented that you absolutely must read all of them to understand HDG enough to read other stories.

And like... No???

It's meant to be stories that should be read before writing and to answer questions about the setting. That is literally what the page says. I have, however, seen readers lament that because abscisson is too dark for them or divaricated is too long, they feel they cannot read anything else in the setting. I have seen people genuinely believe there are exactly seven stories in all of HDG (because of the unintended misleading design on the website that implies that)

Every story an author makes should stand on its own to some degree. Certainly, mine are all written assuming the reader is brand new to the setting(though I dont think any of them is an ideal introduction, I make sure a reader wont be completely clueless). If someone is looking to get into HDG, I vastly prefer to ask them the question "what kind of tone do you think you would enjoy" to just linking the foundational works page. A linear entry to the setting- even though I consider every story on it to be very important and noteworthy- flattens nuance and minimizes the importance of later growth and development in a way I really don't like.

The foundational stories reflect a specific period of time, when the setting was much smaller and existed on Read Only Mind. It is no longer on ROM, it is on AO3, and many of the most influential authors currently writing are all new voices who were never even here for ROM. I do not think that the broader fringes of fandom appreciates the nuance of this fact, and it irks me that so much discussion now centers on these stories to the point it drowns out all else unless you actively force it to be otherwise.

If I absolutely had to reccomend an introduction to the setting that composed of a list external to the foundational works, I would personally point to Irregular Orbits by rocketmermaid, Through The Looking Glass by PyxxieStyxx and mothcourt, and particularly The Place Where We Can Stop Running by Dame Harmony as my set of introductions to the setting as it exists in a living body of ongoing works today.

I don't think, aside from fixing the stories tab on the website not mentioning the existence of stories outside of the foundationals(and this is already kind of a waste of time since the entire website is being replaced soon) and perhaps moving them to the writing tab instead of the stories tab, there is anything that the settings managing team can or even should do about this, as it is unfortunately just a reality of the broadening fandom drawing more mid to low engagement voices into the mix, but it still really irritates me.

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Twelve

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: goodbye to Giedi Prime, no foreplay, fucking with ✨a view✨

A/N: I was planning on making this a long(er) installment but my monkey brain needs the instant gratification of updating the story😂 Hopefully Part Thirteen will be up soon, too. Thank you for being patient with me!

Amongst the hustle and bustle of moving, servants rushing in and out with your belongings and Feyd barking out orders, you kneel down next to the synthetic plant. You check twice that no one is paying attention to you before reaching inside, running your fingers along the inner lip of the pot and past clumps of fake dirt. Finally you connect with something and a triumphant fissure erupts in you at the sight of the fertility necklace.

You clutch it in your hand.

While you don’t intend to use it, it’s the last link to your mother that you have. You can’t believe you almost forgot it — it seems like a small eternity since your wedding. You had almost completely wiped it from your memory since you hid it, remembering only because Jessica and the Bene Gesserits were at the forefront of your mind.

You drop the necklace into a pocket of your dress before anyone sees it.

“Do you know what today is, wife?”

You catch Feyd loping towards you, seemingly having forfeited his supervising responsibilities.

“Mm, the day we get a lovely chat with the Reverend Mother?” You ask, distracted by the weight of the necklace.

“Surely you haven’t forgotten.”

You blink, then center your focus on him, on the fleeting look of smugness he has. “It’s today.”

Feyd’s eyes glint. He pounds his fist to his chest three times, drawing the attention of the servants who stop what they’re doing and straighten in response. You wave them away, grabbing your husband by the crook of his elbow and pulling him into the corner.

“Must you insist on doing that so often?” You chide him. “We would already be on Arrakis if they didn’t have to keep pausing for you.”

The grin on his face tells you that he is not even the slightest bit apologetic. “Can I not dedicate servitude to my wife on our anniversary?”

“Our anniversary of one month,” you remind him.

“A perfect opportunity to laud you.”

“You can laud yourself over there to help that poor man.” You indicate a servant struggling with a particularly heavy trunk of belongings.

Feyd narrows his eyes. “He’s fine.”

“Feyd-Rautha.”

Your husband considers your tone, then turns and delivers another three-strike salute to his chest. He’s darting away before you can reprimand him for it, snarling for a second servant to help with the heavy lifting instead of himself.

Shaking your head, you can’t but smile privately. It warms you to see Feyd like this, the charismatic, alluring side of him that you so rarely glimpse. He usually deploys it in political situations, a switch that he can flick on at will, but it seems genuine today. Perhaps the anniversary of your wedding has lifted his mood in light of his brother’s engagement.

Either that, or the fact that the first step of your plan would be initiated today.

You liked to believe it was the latter.

It’s midday before you’re called to receive the Reverend Mother, and sweat beads between your shoulder blades. To calm your pounding heart, you think of Caladan: the spray of the sea against the rocky crags, the rare peal of your mother’s laughter, and how it all had been stolen from you by those like the Baron and the Reverend Mother. People who thought their agenda more important than the lives of those carrying it out for them.

Your vengeance keeps you sharp, your smile like a knife as you approach the Reverend Mother.

“Thank you for meeting with me earlier than we planned,” you greet her.

She replies, “You said it was urgent, though I sense that, once again, your womb is empty.”

“Yes,” you say, stifling the urge to choke her with those stupid chains. Hopefully the saccharine tone of your voice does not betray your inner thoughts. “I called you here for a related reason.”

“And what might that be?”

“You were wrong about Feyd-Rautha.”

The Reverend Mother visibly recoils. “Tell me what’s on your mind now, girl, I do not have the time for your vague accusations.”

“How do you truly know that he’s destined to sire the Kwisatz Haderach? He is…unpredictable,” you say. “Perhaps your calculations are wrong. It could explain why I am not yet pregnant.”

“Does he know you voice this concerns?” The Reverend Mother asks with a sniff.

Your lips press together. “Of course not.”

“Keep it that way. Feyd-Rautha is just as destined to sure the Kwisatz Haderach as you are to bear it from your womb.” You can feel her scrutiny from under her decorated veil. “You were defiant before about your arrangement. Why are you questioning his authenticity now?”

“As you remember, you assessed me under the Gom Jabbar. Feyd-Rautha has had no such assessment. What if he were to fail?”

The Reverend Mother considers this. “You suggest that we test him.”

“Yes.”

“Do you believe him likely to succumb?”

“I don’t know what I believe,” you reply, “only that his capabilities have not been proven by your standards.”

“You speak as if this is an oversight on our part,” the Reverend Mother says, rising to her feet. A bolt of uncertainty shoots through you.

“I mean no offense. I am simply voicing my concerns, as you said.”

“You leave soon for Arrakis?”

“In a few hours.” You try to look sheepish. “You can see why I demanded urgency.”

The Reverend Mother doesn’t immediately reply. You’re not sure what she sees when she gazes upon you. When she finally does speak, her voice is begrudging: “I shall see that Feyd-Rautha is tested by the Gom Jabbar, though I hardly think it necessary to facilitate now.”

“But what if he fails? I am wasting my time with him,” you counter, perhaps too quickly.

The Reverend Mother must mistake the haste in your voice for panic. “I will visit you on Arrakis in one week. We shall test him then.”

You dip your chin, acquiescent. “Thank you, Reverend Mother.”

The Reverend Mother has no sooner left before Asha scurries to you, her eyes wide. “I overheard everything. It won’t be ready by then.”

“It has to be.”

After your disconcerting dinner with the Baron, you made it your top priority to mend things with Asha. Albeit, less messy than your reunion with Feyd. Asha was only too quick to forgive you and gush her own apologies, which you reassured were not necessary. You had explained to her the plan you created with your husband that very night, while lying side by side in bed, voices whispered, his fingers dragging across your skin.

You had uttered plans to destroy his family like they were sonnets of a poem, threaded with love and unwavering devotion.

Asha, of course, eagerly agreed to assist you with the plan.

“These things, it takes time, and without having an actual reference —”

You lower your voice as not to be heard by anyone lingering nearby. “Tell them I will double their pay. It must be delivered to me on Arrakis in a week’s time.”

“Okay.” Asha hardly looks convinced.

“The promise of coin is an excellent tonic for idleness,” you say. You allow a small smile. “I wish it would change your mind.”

You had invited Asha to join you on Arrakis but she had swiftly declined, ever after you swore a higher salary. You would do anything to guarantee her company.

“I belong here, Y/N,” Asha says, “I know it must be difficult to believe. I imagine you felt the same about Caladan.”

You stiffen slowly. Oh, how lovely it must be to make your own decisions and live where you choose. Subconsciously, you know you could order her to join you and she would have no choice but to say yes. But you would not sacrifice her happiness for your own. “I understand.”

“Are you…disappointed?”

Feyd glances at you. You both stand in the whirl of a thopter’s wings, the force of it billowing your skirts and the red scarf you’ve draped over your head and shoulders in preparation for Arrakis. Your hand sits on your forehead like a shield for the sun — the last time you would see it, a dark, unblinking eye in the white sky.

The light casts Feyd in sharp contrast.

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“This…is your home,” you say, “will you not miss it?”

As if prompted by your question, he surveys the barren landscape, factories belching smoke in the distance as servants finish preparing your things for space flight. You think that he might not answer when he eventually says, “This place has always been more prison than home. I will be glad to rid myself of it.”

You want to reach out and grab his hand, but it feels wrong in this instance, when you wear your mantles of na-Baron and na-Baroness like armor.

Instead, you take to inspecting the same land that your husband does. You can’t even imagine the horrors he’s experienced here. And, unlike you, with your life scattered across several planets, Feyd had only known Giedi Prime — its cruelty and hardships and penchant for violence.

Though Arrakis is hardly a paradise, you hope he will find reprieve there.

“I can’t believe I’m going back,” you mutter. Your throat thickens. “And my parents won’t be there. I…I didn’t imagine it would be like this.”

“A soldier who dies in battle holding a weapon is guaranteed a place in the Heavens. If they were anything like you, they died fighting.”

You smile, blinking appreciatively at him. “I didn’t know you were religious, Feyd-Rautha.”

“I have little care for the Orange Catholic Bible. But there is comfort in knowing that there might be sanctuary for those who have spent their lives in battle.”

“Like you?”

You’re not sure what prompts you to ask it, but he turns sharply to regard you. His eyes scan your face, then the slightest of smiles graces his lips. “I’m afraid that there is no sanctuary for someone like me, jewel, but you’ve certainly ruined me by giving me a taste.”

Your chest tightens with emotion. You want to respond but it’s then that you’re beckoned over to the thopter. Feyd’s gaze flickers behind you and the moment is lost. “Be quick, wife.”

Be quick?

A pair of arms circle around you, making stumble. You automatically lean into their embrace while Feyd retreats to give you time to say goodbye, though you hardly notice with the tears springing to your eyes and blurring your vision.

You’re loathe to leave Asha here. She clings to you tightly, and you know that she wishes it could be different.

“You will come visit,” you tell her fiercely.

Asha withdraws an inch. “Of course.”

“And you will send me monthly — no, weekly updates.” You give her a stern look. “You will spare no details. I command you as your na-Baroness.”

“I suppose I have no choice then.”

You grin at her. “No you do not.”

Asha draws you in again, then whispers, “Your promise of coin worked.” She recovers, saying louder, “Now go. The na-Baron looks anxious for you to join him.”

“Thank you, Asha. For everything. You are my dearest friend.”

Asha offers you one last smile then bows to you. Aware that half of the fortress is watching, you spin on your heel and make your way to the thopter, to your na-Baron, and to your uncertain future.

“I can’t say it’s good to be back,” you report dryly as the heighliner descends. The expanse of desert stretches out before you, Arrakeen, shield wall visible just on the horizon. It shimmers slightly in the low lighting, duel suns casting a glow as they prepare for nighttime.

You’re escorted by a horde of Harkonnen soldiers in their all-black armor through a crowd of Arrakis natives. The handful of Fremen are easy enough to spot with their blue-on-blue eyes — you think them to be hostile of you, considering your Harkonnen marriage, but most regard you with curiosity. As you pass, you hear a rumbling in the crowd that you catch snippets of:

“…the Holy Mother of the Kwisatz Haderach…”

“I hear she’s no Bene Gesserit witch as they claim.”

“…does she already look pregnant to you?”

It displeases you, these vast speculations, but do your best not to reveal it. The truth of your education is not widely known. You were a shameful blot on the tapestry the Bene Gessrits have woven, and instructed by your mother upon first arrival on Arrakis not to tell anyone.

The prophecy foretold you to be part of the sisterhood, so that was the facade you upheld.

A Fremen woman twists free from the crowd. You’re too stunned to push her away before she lays a hand on your lower abdomen. Her blue-on-blue eyes shine vibrantly.

“I have touched the womb of the Holy Mother,” the woman says in a tremulous voice, “the womb which will bear our sacred Messiah.”

You stare, open-mouthed, as two Harkonnen soldiers grab under her arms and drag her away, still spouting heretics about your womb. The last you see of her is her feet dragging in the sand as she’s sucked into the crowd. Unease travels across your skin like goosebumps despite the stifling heat; you’re grateful to have worn the headscarf, as it hopefully masks your alarm.

“I should’ve had her hands removed for daring to touch you,” Feyd hisses under his breath.

He glowers the remaining way to the Arrakeen palace. It’s difficult to say if any of the remaining Fremen are eager to replicate the scene, but they’re surely discouraged now by your husband.

“That would’ve reflected poorly on us,” you say.

“I don’t care.”

You bump arms with him, stepping closer as not to be overheard. “You cannot blame them for their exuberance. They have been manipulated by the Bene Gesserits for centuries now. They believe our child to be their savior.”

A look of discomfort crosses Feyd’s face but he elects not to respond. Together you’re admitted through the airtight entrance into the palace, which is promptly sealed again. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust but when they do, you’re rooted to the spot by confusion.

The palace is exactly the same. You’ve memorized it from your long days stuck inside, but the decor and furniture are completely different. You suppose you expected to see it mostly the same, perhaps ransacked or destroyed, a standing tomb from the life before — not this, a space crafted entirely new.

The Harkonnen soldiers dispatch, probably to sweep for spies, leaving you alone with Feyd for the first time since your exchange with the Baron.

Your brows furrow as you say, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope it’s to your approval.”

“You did this?”

“I thought it would make the transition…easier,” he tells you. “Everything that was salvageable has been taken to a storage vault for safe keeping in case you later feel so inclined to see it.”

Gratitude swells inside you. “The entire palace?”

Feyd indicates for you to continue onward. He trails after you as you explore the halls, amusement etched on his face as he observes you peeking into each room for confirmation. It’s only once you’ve reached the bedroom meant for the man and lady of the house that he stops you.

“I’ve deigned to move our personal belongings to the next biggest suite,” he says, “this room is considered off limits.”

Relief washes over you — you won’t have to stay where your parents slept, where your mother would venture nightly from her quarters to slip under the covers with your father. Your throat thickens. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say nothing.”

His gesture moves you deeply, but it’s hard to miss the streaks of residual lasgun burn marks on the walls, the unfamiliar servants now in your employ. And you’re not sure if it’s your imagination or not but you sense a heaviness within the palace as if the weight of the deaths press on you from all sides.

The intricate care taken to packing your belongings is now undone over the next few hours. At least here everything is in color and there’s a human warmth that was always lacking on Giedi Prime. You sneak glances at Feyd on occasion to gauge his reaction, but he maintains his casual indifference to it all.

It would be impossible to tell if he’s masked his feelings or if he really doesn’t care. Either way, relief loosens your mind when night descends and the servants are sent away to rest, leaving you alone with Feyd. There are no pretenses you need to hold — not that it would matter if you tried. His attention is already fastened to you, analyzing.

“Let me help you out of your dress,” he offers in his rasping voice.

You obey, turning your back to him so that he may untie the laces running up your spine. You suspect that he would normally make quick work of such a task, it’s not like he’s unfamiliar with the process, but his fingers are clumsy, grazing. Feyd crowds close to you, his mouth hovering over the shell of your ear.

“Did everything go as planned?”

You nod, humming. It’s hard not to get distracted with him near you like this. “Yes. She will be here next week to assess you.”

“Perfect.”

“It truly could not have gone better,” you admit to him with a splash of self-satisfaction.

He drops a kiss to your bare shoulder as he eases the dress down over it. “I was talking about you, jewel.”

Twisting, you meet his mouth with yours. Feyd’s hands instantly grab at your waist and spins you the rest of the way until you’re pressed together. You allow the dress to slide down and pool at your feet, which you step out of as Feyd pedals backward, taking you with him. His kiss grows deeper. Attempting to take the lead, you tug him towards the bed, but Feyd has other ideas.

“No, no, come here,” he rasps. Like the tide eroding the sand, you let him guide you to the floor-length window. The glass against your skin is still warm from the twin suns.

“Here?” You gasp into him.

Feyd is too busy discarding his own clothes to answer immediately. “Let all of Arrakis see their na-Baroness,” he murmurs, mouth reuniting with yours with renewed passion.

His touch coasts down your side to your thighs, lifting you so that you can settle your legs around his waist. The vantage point giving your center access to his hardened length. Your body bows in response to him, ribbons of desire reaching out to capture you, binding you to him.

It’s without warning that Feyd drives inside you. He grunts as his cock splits your cunt, walls protesting at his size, the force of his intrusion. You bite down on his shoulder as pain intertwines with pleasure, muffling your cries until his thrusts have thoroughly slickened you. And Feyd never relents, bucking his hips into you with wild enthusiasm.

You’re not sure how it’s possible but every touch — every thrust, every kiss — catapults you to the edge of a precipe from which you willingly step over, languishing in the free fall. Someday you might hit the ground, but that doesn’t frighten you as it should. You would do it over and over again as long as he was the one to bring you there. All things considered, it was his hands pushing you off the ledge, prompting you to fall, to spiral down into the chasm he created — and his hands who ultimately catch you.

Feyd eventually lets you back down on your feet only to twirl you around again. His arms snake around you, hands cupping your breast. You moan as he pinches your nipples, rolls them between his fingers, his breath hot on the side of your neck. Feyd wastes no time returning his cock to your weeping cunt, using his knee to spread apart your legs.

It feels as if you can see all of Arrakis from here as Feyd pummels into you: the cresting desert beyond the city, the shield wall, lights flickering in the distance. You wonder if anyone can see you now, make out your blurred shape high above them getting properly fucked by the man who rules over them. The thought fills you with molten heat, pulsing over you in waves of pleasure as you imagine an audience to your fucking.

Feyd laughs like he knows this. “What shall we say when our people discover their na-Baroness is a whore?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you pant, “you’d kill anyone who even hints at it.”

He snaps his hip to you, grunting in approval.

It’s not long after that he coaxes your final orgasm from you, coming himself soon after. The lights of Arrakeen merge, brighten, as you unravel beneath him; the subsequent bliss of him coating you with his seed. Once he’s wrung his pleasure from you, he pulls you against him, your back flush with his chest. You stay like that for quite some time as you both catch your breath, looking out over the planet you inherited together.

“It’s all ours,” Feyd rasps.

“What an anniversary gift,” you reply, grinning as you watch him in the reflection of the glass.

“If you asked of it I would gift you the entire Known Universe.”

“I know,” you tell him. “Maybe next month.”

Part Thirteen

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @m-indkiller @kpopnstarwars @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1 @unnisumi

[ahlore]

lara’s journal.

writer! lara croft x fem!reader

↳ in our darkest moments, when life flashes before us, we find something. something that keeps us going. (lara croft)

Most of her journal entries focus on the incredible things she discovers—ancient ruins, strange artifacts, and hidden landscapes. But sometimes, she writes about you. When you’re not paying attention, she’ll make a note about a special moment she’s noticed, like the way you look when you’re lost in thought or how you handle a challenge. Those entries mean the most to her because they capture the little things that make your time together truly memorable.

When you first met her, you wouldn’t have guessed that you’d become close (no pun intended). She seemed like the type to keep to herself, only interested in ancient tombs and relics. But surprisingly, she’d seize every chance to talk to you. She’d ask you simple questions, like ‘What do you think this symbol means?’ and really engage with whatever you said. She’d make the most of every moment you spent together.

She’s always kind and gentle with you, offering tips and advice in her soothing voice. She carefully guides you through unexplored tombs, making sure you never feel uneasy and always keeping your safety in mind. If you ever found yourself in danger, she’d be totally overwhelmed with worry.

She’s incredibly quick-witted and always ready to act, so don’t expect her to back down from any threat. She’s fiercely protective of those she cares about, (you being included) driven by a sense of responsibility. She feels obligated to keep going, believing that stopping would mean letting everyone down. Lara became an archaeologist to honor her father, Richard Croft, whose reputation was tarnished. She often reflects on her childhood, remembering him as a remarkable father. “I was just nine when I lost him,” she’d say, “but I remember how he inspired me and how he made me feel like I could achieve anything.”

She keeps her journal in her room on the ship, where she writes down the date and what happened each day so she won’t forget. On pages where she writes about you, she draws little hearts around your name. The first time you saw her writing about you, you teased her about how cute it was. It wasn’t every day you met someone who cherished the smallest details about you. It made your time together feel extra special, knowing those moments were being kept safe in her journal.

“What are you writing about today?” You ask softly, leaning over her as you peek at her journal. She feels your breath near her ear and swallows hard, a bit nervous from the close proximity. After a moment, she replies, “Just writing about you and our time here on the island of Yamatai.”

[icolo]

hi everyone!! my wrist is too sore to draw today, so instead i thought i'd share some of my favorite csp assets + how i like to use them! i also linked some procreate brushes at the end of the post!!

lineart brushes:

SU-Cream Pencil: i swear by this brush and i use it very often!! if you lower the pen density and use a gradient map over it when coloring your drawing, it has a nice effect. that's what i did in this drawing here! i also use this brush like i would draw on paper, so as a sketching tool. recently i've been enjoying blending it for shading. the pics below are drawn on one layer; left is more manga style while the one on the right is from a WIP of my singer sargent study, so it can be used for more realistic styles pretty well!

Found Pencil: another pencil brush that feels really nice to use, created by @/pigpenandpaper.

PS style brushes: a recreation of photoshop's (i believe) default brush. very versatile and also blends well!

analog wind variant pen: a nice pen that i like to use for lineart that is intended to have a bit of a sketch look.

zakutoro real g-pen: i used it for the lineart of this piece. although, it was drawn before i started using 600dpi in my works, so the lower resolution might make it look a bit unclear.

sets of rough pens: great for manga lineart with a rougher vibe; some of them have varying line weight.

coloring brushes:

zaku brushes: very nice and painterly mixing! i definitely recommend it for those who like to leave their colors a bit unblended.

softie marker: as the name implies, it's very soft! i like to use it for blush in chibi illustrations.

analog watercolor brushes: realistic-looking watercolor brushes. i recommend using it with csp's default paper textures, or those i linked below!

993 coloring pen: it's very soft and watery, though it can be made more solid by adjusting the paint density. i actually think it works very nicely for lineart too.

rock dog pen: another soft marker brush i like, that i once again also use for lineart and doodles.

thick coating brush set: recommended for paintings that show brush strokes.

cartoon cloud: don't let the name narrow your vision!! this has to be one of the BEST brushes for painting in my opinion, and of course it's great for clouds and explosions but so so much more!! and it's FREE try it try it!!

decoration/miscellaneous brushes:

neon pen

paper textures

symmetry move brush

close and fill without gaps

rope brush

sphere fisheye guide

flash balloon

speech bubble set: a lifesaving collection for comic artists!! dimensions and line weight can be adjusted by using the operation tool.

gradient map to use in color mode at 15% and another gradient map to use at 20%: the percentage refers to the opacity of the gradient map layer, but they are just the creator's recommendation and i tend to actually increase it. to use gradient map efficiently, i recommend putting all your colors (and lineart if you want) in a folder. then, right-click the folder, select "new correction layer" and then "gradient map". this allows you to modify the gradient map without worrying about affecting the original colors in case you decide not to use it in the end. to import a gradient map from your downloaded csp assets, click the wrench icon next to the name of the gradient set that's currently in use, then select "add gradient set".

you'll also notice that the creator recommends to use their gradients in "color mode". of course, this is also only a recommendation and i suggest trying as many layer modes as you like! to change a layer's mode, simply highlight the layer and click on "normal" (the default mode) and csp will display the available modes.

fruit ninja gradient map: fun to use if you want really drastic/vibrant colors! the names of the gradients are cute too, as you can see in the above screenshot!

BONUS: jeremy fenske's free photoshop brush pack: these aren't csp brushes per se, but they can be imported into the program! excellent for environments, i recommend watching fenske's video on how he uses the brushes to get a clearer picture since there are so many in this pack!!

BONUS 2: my good friend clem has a few brush packs for procreate that are ideal for painting,decorating drawings, and y2k-inspired illustrations, i definitely recommending checking out her shop!

in conclusion i hope this post can be helpful to you!! i tried to explain how to use the brushes as best as i could, but feel free to let me know if anything is unclear!! i hope you will enjoy using them! :D

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 9: Heard Any Good Rumors Lately?

Prompt: "Don't listen to me, listen to them"

Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Jealousy in season 6 when Diana can't wait to share a rumor with Scully... Rating: T, wc: 1,552

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

When the restroom door opens, she’s just finished washing her hands, observing her face in the mirror in front of her. Scully glances over and is disappointed, but not surprised, to see Diana Fowley there. Her nose itches when she catches a whiff of her perfume.

“Good afternoon, Agent Scully,” she says, standing right beside her at the sink, her face close to the mirror.

“Good afternoon,” she replies, intending to leave, but Diana blocks her way.

“Have you heard?” she asks and Scully is genuinely taken aback.

“Heard what?” It doesn’t take long for her to regret asking. Diana’s expression turns from a small, polite smile into a huge smirk, and Scully knows by now that it’s never a good sign.

“About Fox.” At first, she thinks something must have happened. Her heart gallops in her chest and she wants to ask Diana where he is, how bad it is, and how quickly she can get to him. But if something had happened to Mulder, the other woman wouldn’t be grinning. Even she isn’t that cruel.

“Enlighten me.” She puts her hands on her hips, hoping Diana can’t see them shaking.

“The rumor is-,” Diana steps closer to her, invading her personal space. As if she were a friend or a confidant. “That our dear Fox is in love.”

Once, when she was barely a teen, wearing her first bra that she thought would finally draw boys’ attention to her, Melissa stormed into her room, revealing that she'd just kissed Parker McMann - the boy Dana had had a secret crush on all summer. She stammered a ‘good for you’ before she broke into tears. It had seemed like the end of the world. Melissa held her, dried her tears, and promised her baby sister that she’d never again kiss a boy she liked. A promise she'd kept. Diana’s words now cut just as deep. It can’t be true. Deep in her heart, Scully knows it. This is just a sick joke Diana is playing. She knows how to push her buttons. She thinks of Mulder, of the last few days, the last week. Rationally, it just doesn’t make any sense. She arches an eyebrow in disbelief, nevertheless intrigued.

“You’re wondering who it is, don’t you?” The smirk on her face is by now a permanent fixture. “So did I. Here I was thinking, hmm, isn’t Fox spending all his time with the delectable Agent Scully? Imagine my surprise when I find out that the woman who’s captured his heart isn’t you.”

She’s 13 years old again, but this time there’s no one here to comfort her, to hold her hand and make promises. She puts on her bravest face and digs her fingers into her skin, the pain a welcome distraction. It can’t be, she reminds herself. Cause whatever game Diana is playing, part of what she’s saying is true: She and Mulder have been spending all their time together.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Diana.” Her voice is steadier than she thought possible.

“Don’t listen to me,” the other woman says and puts her arm around Scully. It’s not a friendly gesture; she holds her in place, one hand on her back. In the same place where Mulder’s hand always is. Her skin prickles and everything inside her screams to get away. “Listen to them,” Diana whispers into her ear.

Before Scully can ask her what and who she means, she hears it: women’s voices. They’re loud and giggly, in full gossip mode.

“I could not believe it,” one of the voices says. “Fox Mulder is dating! I thought he and his partner-”

“What, Agent Scully? No, they’re just friends.” Loud laughter rings in Scully’s ear.

“She’s not his type at all, is she?” Another voice asks, and the round of laughter seems to agree with that assessment.

“He’s such a cutie and deserves someone who’s not as…”

“Cold?” asks someone else, voicing what Scully is feeling. Cold. She’s shivering, frozen in Diana’s grasp.

“Well, you tried, didn’t you?” Diana’s voice is too close and too sugary; she feels dizzy and stumbles when Diana’s arms let go of her. With a wink, she disappears into one of the stalls, right as the group of women steps into the restroom, still giggling.

“Agent Scully,” one of them says with a curt nod. Scully, pretending she hasn’t heard a single word, nods back. As soon as she’s out in the hall, the laughter returns. She can’t get away fast enough. By now, she imagines, Diana has joined in.

In her haste to flee, she doesn’t notice Mulder walking toward her and crashes right into him.

“Missed me?” he jokes, but his smile falls away as soon as he sees her face. “Hey Scully, what happened?”

“Nothing,” she says in a small voice, picking up her pace again with Mulder on her heels.

“Something happened, Scully. I can see it on your face.” This is Mulder. Half an hour ago, she wouldn't have thought twice about seeking solace in his friendship. Now? After what she’s just had to witness, and hear, she wants to lick her wounds in peace. But Mulder doesn’t let go of her. As soon as his hand lands on her back where Diana touched her less than ten minutes ago, she crumbles.

“Hey, hey.” Before she knows what’s happening, Mulder has engulfed her in his arms, holding her close to him. His heart is racing against her ear. “Scully, please tell me what happened. Please.” But she stays quiet, allowing herself this moment.

“Let’s go back to the office, hm?” His arm remains around her as he leads her to their basement office. With her eyes kept down, she doesn’t see if anyone’s giving them looks. She can’t see – or hear – any more today.

“Can you please tell me now what happened? You went to get a coffee and now you’re crying. Who do I have to hurt?” He accentuates his attempt at humor with a smile.

“Yourself,” she says without thinking.

“I- what?”

“It doesn’t matter, Mulder. Your private life is your private life. I was just surprised that- you should know that the rumor mill is well oiled.”

“Rumor mill? I think you’ve lost me.”

“People know,” she says simply, leaning against the side of the desk, trying to regain her composure. Mulder doesn’t owe her an explanation, but she thought they were friends. There have been moments when she thought they were more than that.

“Can I be people? Cause I feel like I don’t know anything.”

“About your girlfriend.”

“About my what?” he has the audacity to laugh.

“Your girlfriend. Or partner, whatever term you use.” Lover, she thinks. Mulder’s lover. She blushes, having to remind herself that it’s not her. That it won’t be her.

“You’re my only partner, Scully. I don’t know what you heard, or whoever said what, but I can assure you that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“But Diana said-”

“Since when do you believe anything Diana says?” he asks with a laugh.

“She was very convincing. So were the other women.”

“The other-,” Mulder trails off and shakes his head. “I don’t even want to know. But I think I know what happened.” Scully raises an eyebrow, her heart doing silly things again. Only this time, she doesn’t mind.

“So the other day Diana propositioned me,” Mulder says and as if knowing what saying something like that might do to her, he steps into her space. “And I politely told her no, thank you, no interest. Diana isn’t someone who likes hearing the word no, though. So I told her a little white lie. It’s not even a lie when you think about it. I said I was interested in someone else. She asked me who, and I said she doesn’t know her. Which is the truth.”

“I see,” Scully says quietly, reading between the lines. There is someone Mulder is interested in and it still isn’t her.

“You know why I said it?” Mulder’s voice is close to her face now, warm and gentle. “Cause she doesn’t know you at all. The real you. ” Her eyes grow wide when she registers what he just said. She regards him, searching for a twitch around his lips, any indication that he’s messing with her. But there isn’t.

“So whatever lies and rumors Diana is spinning,” he says, leaning even closer, “don’t listen to her. I didn’t know she’d corner you. I should have known better. Sometimes she still surprises me – and not in a good way.”

“I feel so silly,” Scully admits.

“Don’t,” Mulder says, his thumb stroking her cheek. “It’s cute.”

“Mulder…”

“No, it is. Makes it easier for me to…,” he doesn’t finish whatever he means to say and instead kisses her right where his thumb has just been. “Been wanting to do that for a while. We’re not giving Diana credit for this, all right?” His smile is warm and tender. How could she have doubted him for even a second?

“We won’t.” And against her better judgment, she leans forward, pressing a promising kiss to his lips. Just as she’s debating whether they should throw caution to the wind altogether, the door opens, and Diana walks in and the smirk slips off her face.

[mewtwoandme]

So...a bit of a sad announcement today...I'm hoping this isn't the case, I made an appointment for Wednesday to talk to the vet to get a second opinion, but for those of you who know, I own a bearded dragon, and unfortunately the past few weeks he has been showing the signs of possibly passing away soon...He's 8 years old, gonna be 9 around Christmas if he makes it that far, so for him, he's an old lad. I'm afraid the vet is gonna tell me what I don't want to hear, but honestly, I've been preparing myself for this since he started developing issues last year. Despite that, it's still painful to think about. I've been doing what I can for him in the meantime, doing my best to keep him comfortable, though lately, he has become very unresponsive...Because of this, I have no idea where my mental state is gonna be at for a while, cause, honestly, it's now just a waiting game for the inevitable. This has already been taking a heavy toll on my emotional state, and it's been weighing on me and I've been fluctuating from being okay one day to feeling depressed or crying the next...

As far as the blog/story, I'm not sure if any of my plans are gonna change. As of right now, I don't believe they will. If anything, continuing to draw will provide a necessary distraction for me. As far as Blu arriving in December, I still intend for that to happen. However, I did mention awhile back that he'd probably arrive sometime in January if I was late on it for any reason. So don't be surprised by that happening if my bearded dragon happens to pass away between now and December. Cause I'll likely need some time away to mourn properly. No matter if it's a cat, a dog, a bird, or a reptile. Pets are just as much part of your family as your own flesh and blood relatives, and there's nothing more heartbreaking than knowing you're losing a part of your family. To me, it feels like I'm losing my baby. I know I can't compare losing a reptile to losing a human child, but the similar feelings are still very real.

Of course, I'll update you all whenever it happens, and I'll let you know if I choose to take a break during that time

[yumeka-sxf]

My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 2

Continuing from my previous post about the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY," today I'll be going over Endo's interviews, as well as showing my favorite "fun" page spreads!

Endo's interviews with his editor Lin and other manga-ka

First off, let's address the elephant in the room: as some of you may have heard, a horrendous clickbait article was released a while back citing an interview from this book (when it was only in Japanese). The article claims that Endo states in the interview that he doesn't like Anya or any of the other SxF characters. Thankfully u/fuyukochii on Reddit had provided an unofficial translation of the interview, so most fans were able to see that this article was bogus. And now we have the official translation as further proof...

Lin, Kato, and Amu are teasing Endo about the fact that he tends to not draw handsome men ("ikemen") in his series. So when he finally did with Loid's design, they joking applaud this big sacrifice he made, to which Endo replies (again, jokingly) that this compromise to his preferred style is why he has no emotional attachment to his characters. Again, all the "laugh" and "clap" interjections in this exchange make it clear that they're all joking around. The article took this statement of his completely out of context and twisted the "no attachment" wording to mean total dislike. It's unfortunate, but false information gets published like this all the time, and often for more dire issues than a manga fanbook. But it seems like a lot of fans didn't fall for the clickbait, which is good. And now everyone who reads the book officially in English can see that there's no way someone like Endo who has such dedication to his craft could downright dislike it.

Moving on, I totally agree with Nishimori, Kato, and Amu's praise for Endo's work in the below exchanges…

The trait SxF has that they convey here is "balance:" balance between making its world believable, with enough serious conflict so that we care about what's at stake, but at the same time, stretching the veil of realism a bit to have comedic moments. There's also great balance to the characters in that none of them are totally good or totally bad, but because we know what's going on in their world and why they do the things they do (like what Nishimori mentioned about the scene with Loid), we can still sympathize with them.

Going along with that thought, Endo's responses on the below page further illustrates his balance between "dark" and "comedic."

I like how he says that he's not interested in grotesque violence as much as dark themes of the psychological kind…the dark side of humanity more than visual depictions of violence. We can see this in how he portrays the serious moments in SxF where, instead of showing actual horrific scenes of war, the focus is instead on the psychological impacts that war has had on the characters. Likewise, he mentions how perhaps "the comedic nature of their (the characters') daily lives is rooted in the severity of their reality." It's said that within comedy there's often some form of tragedy, and I think SxF is a good example of this as so much of the comedy has its roots in the darker aspects of life, like the fact that the characters have to lie about their true identities. But at the same time, Endo mentions that he doesn't want to shy away from the sad reality of war, which was a big driver for why he made the cruise arc. And again, his intention was not to show any kind of "good vs evil" thing, but simply what motivates people to do extreme things in times of war. His quote about how he never intended to show the Forgers as a completely righteous family is something I knew about before and I think is very poignant. It harkens back to what I discussed before about balance and the fact that his characters aren't shown as completely good or completely bad.

On a related note, in the below comment, Endo acknowledges that Loid and Yor have "darker sides."

It's cool that he likes drawing those expressions. It seems like he makes a conscious decision to show their "darkness" at the right times.

It's also very interesting that so many elements of SxF were decided last minute, as mentioned on the below page.

I can't believe Anya being telepathic was decided on so late! Considering it's such a big player in the series' humor, that's very surprising. But Endo does admit on this same page that he hadn't planned out the story at all. Since he had only done short/one-shot series up to that point, I'm sure he wasn't expecting SxF to continue on that long. But once it became so popular, he had to keep fleshing out the story and characters, probably beyond what he originally thought. But considering how little he had come up with for the series initially, he's done a fantastic job keeping up its quality and continuity. It really was some crazy mix of timing, talent, and perhaps a bit of luck, that turned a series with no long-term planning and so many last minute decisions into such a hit.

Other parts of the interview highlight just how dedicated Endo is to his research and how he agonizes over the fact that he may have been inconsistent with something.

I also have to say that as I read through all of Endo's interviews and comments in this book, I admire how down-to-earth he is. Like, rather than sugarcoat things, he just says it like it is, for example, he said he doesn't reveal new character names that often because it's a hassle to come up with them (pg179), how he didn't give any thought to Anya's pink hair besides it being "cute" (pg181), how it's a lot of work to draw characters in a variety of clothes (pg178), and how the main emotion he feels with SxF getting an anime series is "tired" (pg174). But there's often a "laugh" interjection in many of these interview answers, so we know his comments aren't to be taken that seriously!

And here's his message to readers at the end of the interview. Definitely not the words of a man who dislikes his story and characters.

My favorite "fun" pages of the book

Since the Endo interviews were pretty heavy, I'll finish up this post with the lighter topic of highlighting my favorite funny page spreads in the book!

First off is a spread featuring all of Yor's cooking!

The sarcasm for these meal descriptions is hilarious, lol. And what was that dessert Yor made at the end of the cooking lesson chapter? Guess we'll never know.

The next spread from Anya's POV about her made-up spy group "P2" is absolutely adorable.

I love how they included all her mispronunciations of words. Also her calling Fiona "Agent Mean Lady," lmao!

And lastly, Yuri's collection of Yor photos (made with Anya's help!)

This is all just 4th-wall breaking fun as obviously no one was taking photos at these moments in canon, so Endo could just roll with the joke. Anya's inclusion in this whole gag is too good, from Yuri calling her an "unnamed collaborator" to her "Paparotsies, eat your heart out!" And I absolutely love her comment at the end about how she can't show Yuri some of Yor's less attractive expressions, lol. Pure SxF comedy gold.

I'll have one more post of EYES ONLY content coming soon, so stay tuned!

Continue to Part 3 ->

<- Return to Part 1

[juneknight]

Spring Cleaning

Kink: Glove kink

Jake Lockley/f!reader

You find Jake’s gloves while cleaning.

*

His arm wraps around your waist when you’re at the sink, elbow deep in suds. He draws you back against himself and you feel the firm plains of the body, so familiar to you now. For a moment, you mistake him for Marc; it would not be the first time he had tried to interrupt your spring cleaning today for sex.

But then he kisses just beneath your ear and whispers in his soft, accented voice: “¿Qué estás haciendo?”

“Dishes,” you answer. You hold up your hands, covered in wispy suds, for him to see. He sees the faint tremble in your fingers and you feel his mouth spread into a grin where he’s pressing kisses to your neck.

“The flat looks incredible.”

“Thank you,” you breathe. But you know it’s coming. You know it. You have been dreading it all day, since you found Jake’s gloves this morning in the little nook where he hides them (along with his cap, his keys, and other items that you thought might be illegal).

You hadn’t been able to help yourself. Jake’s gloves were sacred to him, and as such, they had become something of a legend to you. You felt them on the rare occasions when he took your hand in his own, the buttery softness of the authentic leather, the smooth seams made warm from his skin.You watched his hands, often, when he drove, memorizing the smooth sound of leather wisping against the steering wheel as he made a turn and let the wheel return to its typical position.

The gloves made you hot. The gloves drove you mad.

And you had just wanted to see if they would fit you. They fit Jake so tightly, truly made for him. But the leather had a soft give, and with the adjustable strap on the back, you believed that they could fit you too. Hands shaking, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Marc wasn’t returning to the flat unexpectedly, you tugged the gloves into place.

They were a little loose—but not as much as you might have feared. A shaky breath slipped past your lips. You had traced your leather clad fingers over the surface of your forearm and felt the skipping of your heart. This was Jake’s touch. This is what it would feel like if you ever got up the nerve to ask him to touch you with his gloves still on.

You had only intended to try them on briefly, but instead you had ended up in your bed, three leather-clad fingers deep in your cunt, crying out your orgasm to an empty flat. When you were finished, you had replaced everything perfectly, face burning hot with embarrassment at what you had done. What would Jake think if he ever found out? God, you’d never be able to look at those gloves the same again!

Except you’re looking at them now as he raises his hand up to linger in your line of sight.

“I think you missed a spot,” he says, rubbing the pad of his thumb softly against his first two fingers. Your knees nearly give out, body held up only by the strong press of his own crowding you into the kitchen sink, his arm around your waist. His fingers come close enough that you can just smell a hint of your feminine scent beneath the leather.

He taps your lips twice. Obediently, you open them and let him slip the gloved fingers inside, lapping at them with your tongue. You can barely taste yourself: clean with a hint of salt. Then just leather, leather, and more leather.

“Good girl,” says Jake. “Get them nice and clean for me. Then we’ll find ways to dirty them up again, yes?”

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 42: Cautious Restraint

Summary: Loki struggles with the disparity between you.

Word Count: 1,248

Author's Notes: Late upload today, but it's still Thursday here. I felt it needed another editing pass, sorry.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Loki had to remind himself that he was allowed to touch you. For months he had been forced to tamp down the impulse, and that habit had become ingrained. Now he would catch himself holding back when the desire arose to place his hands on your waist, or to cup your face, until he remembered that he didn't need that restraint. It felt like a liberation, then, when he would bypass that inhibition and caress your cheek, or pull you close, or kiss you. You always responded with enthusiasm, which still felt like a miracle.

Rather than being sated, his hunger for you only grew. He found this alarming. It was no longer enough for him to kiss your face, so his lips ventured to your neck. When he held you against him he still wanted more, and his hand would slip beneath the hem of your shirt and smooth against your skin there. It had only been days since he had first kissed you, the press of his need grew ever stronger and he grew worried. He felt, at times, that he might devour you if left this desire was left unchecked. And so he made sure to retain a certain amount of temperance with his affection.

He wasn't sure how these things would usually progress with mortals these days, and he was less certain about you in particular. You had never spoken much about romance, thus he had no benchmark by which to measure. He only knew of one previous relationship of yours, and it only added to his concern. The last thing he wanted was to be another dark story in your life. You never resisted his advances, that was true, but it wasn't enough to give him confidence.

The situation was delicate. More than that, you were delicate. He was terrified that if he lost his control you would suffer the consequences. He could hurt you. Easily. Without even intending to. The fire that burned within him could consume you. In the past he might be less cautious. Plunge in, feet first, and sort it out from there. He no longer trusted his judgment in these matters. You were not something he was willing to risk.

You did not suffer from the same reticence. Why would you? You could be secure in the knowledge that you posed no threat to him. You reached for him without hesitation. You kissed him without concern. This made it all the more challenging, as it meant he always had to be the one to pull away, to bid you goodnight before he got carried away.

It was becoming more difficult. When moments between you two grew intimate it was harder to draw himself back, it took more effort to stop your wandering hands. His resolve could fail him any moment now. He should talk to you about his concerns, obviously. Obviously. But how to broach the subject? How could he tell this perfect creature that he feared his own lust? Shame overwhelmed him each time he came close.

Tonight he had brought it on himself. When the two of you sat on the couch for your after-dinner chat he had pulled you into his lap. He could contain it, he told himself. He just wanted to feel you close. He could stop there. Then he kissed you and believed that would be enough. You kissed him back, which no one could have expected, and that was when he felt his resolve slip. Your lips parted for him but still he took a slow, measured response that was well under control.

Then your fingers tangled in his hair and every salacious dream he'd had came rushing back to him.

He gasped softly as he broke the kiss, catching his breath as he turned his face away. "It's getting late." He mumbled apologetically. "So stay the night." You whispered against his cheek. "I'm not sure that I should." You sat back to better see his face, with concern creasing yours. "Is... is there something wrong with me?" "What? No. No, of course not." This did not sway your worry. "It's just- you stop. Every time it seems like things are..." you struggled with your phrasing, "going somewhere." You bit your lip and drew your hand away. "If you don't want-" He caught your hand, bringing it back to hold against his chest. "Darling, I want." You sighed, relaxing a fraction. "Well, me too. So what is it?"

He hesitated, searching for words that he should have found well before this moment. "You're human." A tiny smile tugged at your mouth. "You said you could forgive that." He laughed. "Yes, and I do, for the most part." He paused, trying to gather his thoughts in the correct order. "I'm so much stronger than you. Your physical abilities do not compare to mine." You scoffed. "Well you don't need to brag-" "Please, darling, I'm being earnest." He squeezed your hand that he still held against his chest. "I can't express how deeply I desire you, all of you." The burning expression you wore in response sent a thrill through him. "But I've been afraid of what could happen if I follow that desire with abandon." He looked down at your hand in his. "I could never forgive myself if I hurt you."

He felt you move, you shifted position, straddling him now, which was almost more than he could bear. You placed your hands on either side of his jaw and tilted his face up until his eyes met yours. Your expression was fierce and loving, and your tone was soft but stern when you spoke. "You are not the villain in my story." That struck him harder than he expected. He closed his eyes and set his jaw. He felt you place soft kisses across his cheek bones until he found his voice and looked up at you again. "How can you be so sure?" A light laugh from you. "I've met him already." "I could be a secondary antagonist." You shook your head and planted another kiss against his lips. "You're clearly the love interest." You pressed your forehead to his. "You won't hurt me." He wrapped his hands around your waist. "You trust me with this?" "I trust you with anything." He sighed and squeezed you closer. He did not feel he could trust his judgement, but perhaps he could trust yours.

You leaned forward to rest your head on his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go to bed." He turned to kiss your exposed neck, then stood from the couch, lifting you with him before setting you on your feet. You took his hand in yours as you led him to the bedroom. Loki couldn't take his eyes off you. He watched your hips as you walked and felt the fire inside him surge in anticipation of things to come. When you looked back at him over your shoulder he saw the same flames reflected in your eyes. As you closed the door he wondered how he had been granted such a prize. He pulled you into a kiss intended to prove that he wouldn't squander this gift. You responded in kind, and when your fingers again tangled in his hair the last of his restraint evaporated. He easily lifted you from your feet again and carried you to bed.

You were mortal, Loki knew, but when your body was entwined with his he would swear by your divinity.

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[shirefantasies]

Hi Marti! I think I've got a doozy for ya, hope your up for it. How do you think The Company of Thorin Oakenshield would go about trying to set two folks up, like romantically? What's everyone's like technique I guess- who's more straightforward with introducing people to eachother, who's a background guy like manipulating things so the two potential lovebirds end up sharing space at a public event, who's talking up the other person when they aren't around, who's explicitly like 'you and this person would make a cute pair.' and. and and and- most importantly- how does this change if this involves their brothers/relations? I'm grinning so damn hard rn, I believe in you!

I'm absolutely obsessed with this ok??? YES 🅱️LS (also, portraying this like it’s you & another company member hehe)

Warnings: a suggestive joke or two

How Thorin’s Company Would Set You Up With Someone

Balin

✧ Sensible, subtle, simple. His approach will be more along the lines of getting you and his target to spend more time together.

✧ He’ll ask you both to go complete a task like gathering firewood together.

✧ As you two (even if forcibly) are spending more time together, he might start bringing them up more, daring to ask a question about that.

✧ One tell he has is the proud, sly little smile that can sometimes be seen upon his face as you two interact.

✧ When you two actually get together, he makes his grand reveal, smugly telling you both he’s been around long enough to be able to tell when two are right for each other.

Dwalin

✧ Has no clue what he’s doing, frankly, and likely is only doing it because his brother or someone else roped him into it.

✧ Or else he has a really strong protective instinct toward you, the other company member, or both. Then it becomes a matter of greater urgency, more based upon the concept of making sure you are with someone he trusts. Simply put, no one else will do.

✧ Rather than wax poetic, Dwalin prefers putting you in situations that display his target’s skills and worth. If they’re a fighter, he’ll send them in to save you, for example.

✧ Very subtle with the stereotypical ‘wingman’ comments, but they're there. “Looks like you got rescued today, eh?” "You know, if there's anyone I trust for help with that, why it would have to be..."

✧ His eyebrows raise when you actually announce this very soul to the company as your one, but he's the first to clap hands to your shoulders and bring up a shout of celebration.

Thorin

✧ By far the most awkward about it- he can barely process his own feelings, let alone others’.

✧ “I- I just want you to be happy.” Hopes you know what he means by that, but it’s a coin toss honestly.

✧ Relents and assigns you two joint tasks like unsaddling the ponies or gathering firewood, hoping that’s enough to help draw you closer.

✧ If one of you expresses any sort of heavy emotion, he actually does a really good job relating it to the other’s experience and directing you that way, prompting a heart-to-heart.

✧ Smiles widely and pulls you both lightly into his arms at the news, taking it as a sign of continuation and prosperity to come.

Oin

✧ Surprisingly one of the more discreet ones.

✧ Makes a lot of conversation as he patches you up anyway, so teasing questions about who amongst them you fancy most just seem to come with the job.

✧ Little do you know that the moment you spill, Oin turns around and starts teasing the other party about what a catch you are. What? He’s getting older, let him have his fun.

✧ He makes you his nursemaid of sorts to help the next time they get hurt. If you take great issue at such sights he’ll just ask you to keep them company upon being patched up.

✧ “I said it would be a match, and a match it is!” He calls out, fists pumped into the air at your revelation.

Gloin

✧ Physically shoves you in the direction of his intended target under the guise of merriment. Not hard, just enough to get them to turn and look at you and see the moment's right.

✧ Comes up with team games so you two can be on a team against him and whichever friend or brother he's roped in that time.

✧ Finding out if your feelings are true is in the interest of his betting pool, so Gloin is not above asking you the occasional alluding question, usually a small one like what your type is.

✧ The first to laugh heartily and slap you on the back if you display any sort of flirting behaviors!

✧ Shouts with wild abandon when you come out with it, racking up all his sacks of coins with glee before he grabs you two and gives you an affectionate, proud shake!

Bifur

✧ Silent observers are some of the most deeply perceptive individuals.

✧ Thus, whoever’s end it’s on, Bifur can see feelings blossoming, his head bobbing back and forth between you two with interest at nearly every interaction.

✧ Eagerly employs some rather…unorthodox… methods of seeing you set up. “I can steal his socks and give them to you so you can be the hero who finds them!”

✧ Begins telling both you and his intended match heavily exaggerated stories of each other’s great feats, completely unaware of the separate conversations about them you’ll then have.

✧ Grabs your hands and joins them when he hears the news, nodding and clapping proudly!

Bofur

✧ Can be obvious about it, but still one of the most natural.

✧ Throws an arm around you both, all but dragging you over to the fire to sing and dance with him…and more importantly each other!

✧ He’s often off doing the laundry, so he oh-so-innocently spills something one day and asks his target to surrender their shirt…right in your full view, of course!

✧ Pulls you into more jokes with whoever fancied, teasing them and then calling you out by name to join in: “Isn’t that right?” He winks at you the moment you look at him, the scoundrel!

✧ “See, didn’t I tell ya it was meant to be? Nothing but blessings from me, you two.”

Bombur

✧ Finds himself smiling and clasping his hands whenever you two interact. Maybe he can help it along...

✧ Excuse king. “Say, could you go fetch ‘im for me? …Why? Oh, because I borrowed something the other night.” “Can you sit there? It’s just I’m a bit warm, so I’d like to be further away from the fire if you please.”

✧ Being married himself, he understands some of the best how a good relationship starts, i.e. with a firm friendship. Thus he starts talking to you both and joking around more to make memories that bring you together!

✧ Also gives his targets credit for anything. “Lost one of my gloves the other day ‘n’ you’ll never guess who found it!”

✧ Beams and offers the biggest bear hugs he can when you announce your relationship. Bragging rights who? Bombur just loves love.

Dori

✧ Lives for the drama anyway, but general investment would grow tenfold if that person happened to be one of his little brothers.

✧ The questioning sort, suddenly asking you things like if you’ve ever considered settling down after this is all over and if so, any inklings with what type of person?

✧ Suddenly he can’t speak highly enough of this person even if it’s not one of his siblings, tossing it into your teatime conversations how they’re that strong or this skilled or he hears that family crafts the finest courting beads if he’s one of the dwarves.

✧ It’s enough that you pick up on what he’s doing and tell him that well, if that company member is interested then they’d best just tell you, prompting Dori to rush to them and try to convince them to confess.

✧ Whether they need the push or not, Dori’s target eventually makes a move, leaving the older dwarf to brag like a proud father, uncle, big brother, you name the dynamic he can do it!

Nori

✧ Not shy about any part of the whole affair. Watches you both with a shit eating grin.

✧ “So, if it had to be anyone there, who’d it be? …what, I can’t be the first one to be asking that, can I?”

✧ Heavily contemplates going the jealously route. Barring you getting uncomfortable, Nori starts being far more friendly with you and putting his arm around you more often to see what his target does.

✧ Proceeding, of course, to teasingly confront them about it later. “What, did it bother you? Wonder why. Maybe you oughta take that up with ‘em, then.”

✧ Some company members bought his act a little too well, gazes swiveling between you and your match and Nori himself as if expecting him to now be jealous.

Ori

✧ Surprisingly great at matchmaking- his fear of being discovered keeps him very very discreet, and he has a great sense for love.

✧ “Can you two sit right there? I’d like to get some drawings while we’ve got the time. Thank you! Oh, just a little bit closer. Little bit more. There we go!”

✧ The moment you need help, Ori knows someone who can help you! Sends you right their way with an innocent little smile.

✧ Has made it his business to have a general idea of what everyone likes, which comes quite well in handy pointing out to you that someone else in the company's got a similar interest or hobby. Grins to himself when he sees you actually approach them about it.

✧ Feels no need to come out and announce himself to you once you're together, but he brags about predicting and matchmaking you two endlessly to Dori, who listens with great pride.

Fili

✧ Having the absolute time of his life.

✧ He’s likely gotten up to this due to gaining the knowledge- or else it simply being that obvious- that one of you has feelings for the other or is attracted to them. Thus, teasing abounds!

✧ “Ever thought about it? …what? Why, you two, of course! Everyone else has, after all.”

✧ Leans on his sword or against a tree, giving his best attempt at a smooth pose as he whispers that they like you too. Yes, even if he isn't certain that you like them as well.

✧ "Finally!" He calls out the first time he sees you two kiss. It may earn him a smack, but it's worth it.

Kili

✧ Likely doing this teamed up with Fili and also having the absolute time of his life.

✧ Jokes around any time you two are paired for things. “Well you two make quite the handsome couple, don’t you?”

✧ Plays sides with whoever he's closest to, possibly with his brother falling to the person's other side. "Be honest, who do you think is the best looking of us all? What do you think of that one there?"

✧ "Come on now," he asks you directly if you have any interest in his target, especially if he knows you do, "you can tell me." This, of course, is punctuated with a wink.

✧ He wasn't expecting to actually become your confidant, but when you tell him you trust him with your news and that he's the first to know, he can't help beaming and pulling you into a hug.

Bilbo

✧ Insists to all the other company members that hobbits are the best at matchmaking, thank you. But that, of course, leaves him to prove it.

✧ Step one: food. Food is one of the greatest bonding agents known to hobbits, so Bilbo will task you with bringing your potential interest dinner and thus sitting at their side for the meal.

✧ Step two: common interests. Bilbo himself becomes something of a double agent, talking to one of you and then the other and dropping names at any good opportunity. Perhaps both of you knit. Maybe you need your blades sharpened and they've just done theirs. You could simply just have the same favorite animal and the both of you will know it by the time Bilbo is through.

✧ Step three: strategically moving your bedrolls to be right next to each other. What? It works! That night his target ends up rolling against you in his sleep and you lean up against him.

✧ When you wake up the following morning, shock overtakes you, then shy smiles and a private conversation that has Bilbo smirking to the rest of the company triumphantly.

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