#he felt fab after i figured that out

[freddie-dressage]

Crazy concept, total new discovery I made riding yesterday. This is really wild but it worked so well I have to share.

You use your inside leg -bare with me-

And push the horse /into/ your outside rein

I know, I know. Really radical concept.

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Eight)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,759

Warning: nightmares, mentions of character death, panic attack, night terror, blood, PTSD, suvivor guilt Language, suggestiveness, grinding, neck kisses, dry humping,

A/N: oh man!! We have three parts left after this update, maybe two. Still plotting out the last chapters!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Suguru knew something was wrong with you. Something was up the second you both boarded your plane as you mindlessly stared at your computer screen. He wanted to believe that maybe something happened with your agent or you were stuck doing rewrites, but his anxiety told him you were beginning to regret your decision to come with him. He didn’t want to hold you back if staying in Tokyo with something you wanted to do. He wanted you to follow your dreams.

He just needed to figure out how to bring it up.

However, that seemed like a terrible way to start this trip. He should be elated, jumping with joy over the fact that he spent time with you. You were going to be living together for the next four months. It would be if there were any time to tell you how he felt now. If he could muster up the courage to do that, he would follow his friend's advice, preferably today or tonight, once you guys got to your condo.

Suguru was going to tell you how he felt finally. He was going to be upfront and honest. He didn’t want to be your friend anymore. He would much rather be your boyfriend if you would accept him.

If he continued to beat around the bush, there was a chance he would lose you. That was something he could not afford to do. Losing you would be like losing part of his soul.

For now, he just needed to keep things lighthearted and stress-free. Which would be easier if you weren’t mindlessly staring at your computer screen. Your eyes were slightly swollen, and your manicured nails tapped against the side of your laptop as the word seemed to evade you, seeing you were so lost in thought.

Without thinking, Suguru reached over and gently grabbed your hand, holding it tight, drawing you out of your fantasy world and back into reality. Your tired, swollen eyes glanced down at your conjoined hands, and for the first time since you boarded the plane, you smiled. It wasn’t the fake smile that you had put on since you both sat down. No, this was your genuine, honest smile.

Which made his whole heart sing.

“You okay?” Suguru asked as you pulled your headphones up to listen to him.

“Oh yeah, I have a nasty case of writer's block. I hope going to the beach when we get there will help.”

Hearing you speak so freely about the issues you were having lifted some of the tension on Suguru’s shoulders. Knowing that you were just stuck in writer's block and not regretting your decision to join him, he slumped back against his chair as his fingers slowly interlaced with yours. He was afraid if he moved any faster, you would disappear.

“I’m sorry, having a blockage like that sucks. Is there anything I can do to help?”

A flush crept across your cheekbones and over the bridge of your nose. “H-Here?” The shushed, almost reprimanding tone of your voice had your best friend smirking. “W-We’re in public! And people would catch us.” Suguru gave your hand another reassuring squeeze.

“I didn't mean like that. Is there anything I could do to help you get through your writer's block?”

“Oh,” your flush deepened in color, “right, yeah, you didn’t mean us fucking in the bathroom.”

Fucking?

You hadn’t noticed the word you had used, but your best friend did. None of your sessions thus far had gone farther than touching and dry humping. So, for you to outwardly say something like that, it was entirely out of left field. Suguru’s cheek flushed a rosey shade as you continued to ramble on about how there were no planes in your fantasy world, and you didn’t see how that would help with your writer's block but profusely thankful for his offer.

Fucking?

That word had been something he was familiar with countless times before. He had had his share of partners in the past, but you were different. You weren’t just some girl. You were his best friend, and you deserve the absolute best. Fucking, was something he never wanted to do with you. No, Suguru wanted to make love with you.

Love. Making love. That sounded so much better than fucking. Making love sounded like something you were so deserving of.

“Suguru?” Your free hand reached forward, touching his forehead with the back of your hand. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Oh, yeah, I uh—it’s just a bit warm in here.” it sounds like a bullshit excuse because it is a bullshit excuse.

You just softly grin, dropping your hand down to cup his face. The gentle touch alleviates all the stress and thoughts continuously forming in Subaru’s mind. He finds himself in the back of your hand, leaning into your touch. Everything would be okay as long as he had you by his side.

He could return to Okinawa and paint a mural of a girl he had failed. He might be able to go back to the street where she had died eventually. And he would tell you how he felt.

All because you were with him.

Even though you were by his side, he found himself shaking as he looked out at the ocean as the taxi drove you both to the condo you would call Home for the next four months. Thoughts of Riko and Gojo playing with sea cucumbers on the beach and enjoying soba noodles at a restaurant just up the shoreline, there were a lot of memories in this place, ones that had been fueling his nightmares for years.

Before those dark thoughts could dig their claws into his arms, pulling him under, you leaned your body against his back, peering out the window with him. “Whoa, look at those waves!” Your breath fans against his cheek before you press your face against his. “We should go for a walk tonight once we’re all settled in!” As he had thought on the plane, you were doing exactly what he knew—making this whole excursion easier for him to process.

“Yeah, a walk sounds nice.”

Anything involving you sounds nice. The remainder of the ride to the condo is quiet. A peaceful, calm, serene, until you're dropped off at the condo building. That relaxed, tranquil feeling is replaced with a sense of excitement, especially when you both walk inside.

The condo was a one-bedroom, one-bath, one-bath condominium with a living room, kitchen, and balcony. What made it even better was that it was fully furnished with all the necessary furniture and necessities. Making it a perfect home away from home for the next few months. Suguru stepped inside, holding the door open for you, watching your eyes sparkle as you kicked your sandals off, running across the polished wood flooring. You made a beeline for the balcony window, your back straightened before your world around to face him as he shut the door.

“Suguru! We’re super close to the beach! We should go for that walk later tonight!”

The excitement planted across your face and thick in your voice had Suguru’s heart fluttering. “Yeah, weekend. I have to call the aquarium first and let them know we made it.”

“Hell yeah! I’ll go start unpacking!”

Suguru chuckled, watching as you carried all the bags to the bedroom. He quickly called his employer. Much like he thought this time in Okinawa would involve a lot of working and less playing. The aquarium Director wanted to stop in the office to discuss what they wanted and where the mural would be. They had also been kind enough to purchase all the supplies for him. Paints, brushes, ladders, everything he could want or need would be provided.

The director wanted Suguru to take the rest of the day off to settle in before you came in the next day, which was great—having a day off. Which meant he would be able to spend it with you. Maybe if things went right tonight, he could finally tell you how he felt because he was getting tired of hiding behind some bullshit excuse to ‘help’ you with your book.

“Hey,” Suguru tapped his knuckles against the door frame as he shoved his phone into his pocket. “So the aquarium said that we could—” When he enters the room, you glance up from your phone, and Suguru can see tears swelling in your eyes. His heart drops into his stomach as you quickly wipe at the falling tears. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m okay!”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

The talent of his voice leaves no room for arguments, which she’s anticipating you giving him. “Sugu.” But instead of arguing with him, you smile, blushing yourself off the bed before grabbing his hand. “I was just reading a fan someone wrote about Oaklynn and Ilsan!” You swallow hard, whiter as you squeeze his hand tight. “But what were you say about the aquarium?” Suguru knows there's more than just some fanfic behind your tears, but if you keep pushing, he’s afraid he’ll ruin the first night in the condo with you.

“They said we could take today to settle in.”

You both head to the store to get groceries to cook dinner together. The whole time, Suguru watches you with weary eyes. Knowing you guys were out and about, you seemed fine, but he also knew you. You were pretty talented at putting on a mask behind your genuine emotions. He signs that if you’re not doing better by the following day, he will bring it up again and confront you about what was happening.

The next day, you’re okay, and the following day and the day after that. He’s happy to see your smiling face with no traces of tears in them. He wishes his face mirrored yours. Instead of worrying about you, he’s beginning to worry more about himself. It’s not that being with you makes him sad or that living together for the last week hasn’t been what he has always dreamed about. Being with you was a dream come true. Waking up next to you, cooking meals with you, taking an evening stroll on the beach, and being with you were the best part of returning to Okinawa.

But it was the flashbacks he wasn’t loving.

Images of Riko on the beach, running down the sidewalk. Enjoying her life to the fullest, not knowing this would be the last trip she would ever take because of him.

The second night in the condo was when the nightmare started up again. The same ones he’d been having for years. Riko in the aquarium, the blue hue of the lights around turning red before he was lying down on the street, staring into her lifeless eyes, while her blood-stained mouth told him it was his fault. He hadn’t been fast enough and pushed you out of the way. He had chosen one over the other; those toxic thoughts were the source of the nightmares plaguing him. That also had him stirring in his sleep next to you.

You had been struggling to fall asleep. You and Suguru had been in Okinawa for a week, and you still hadn’t been able to break the news about the cottage to him. That was why you were so upset when you arrived and had been crying a week prior. Eventually, you knew you would have to come clean about it, but you couldn’t do that right now, not when he needed you.

Not wanting to linger on those thoughts any longer, you were about to turn onto your other side when Suguru gasped, yelling your name as he sat up in bed.

“Sugu?!”? You sat up with him, watching his chest. His eyes are brimming with tears. “Hey, I’m right here.” Very gently, you grabbed his thigh, squeezing him, grounding him. “I’m right here with you.”

Suguru breathed heavily and yanked your hand to his chest, holding it there as if he was afraid he would vanish if you didn’t touch him. Scooted towards him, sitting on your knees, watching the adrenaline coursing through his veins slowly settle down. His muscles relaxed, and he watched as the pulse in his throat slowed down. Once he calms down, you lean closer, copying your hand against his cheek.

Leaned into his lips against the palm of your hand. “Sorry.” He pressed another gentle kiss. “Did I wake you?” Shame and embarrassment clouded his eyes as they roamed over your face.

“No, I was already awake.” That seems to make his shoulders relax more. “Were you having a nightmare about me?”

“How did you—?”

“You screamed my name.”

Suguru averts his gaze, biting down on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I—I—uhm—“ your hand leaves his face quickly, grabbing his hand again and squeezing it.

“Talk to me, please.”

Suguru never went into details about his nightmares with you. He only talked about it with his therapist and had mentioned them to Gojo one night when he had been drinking. His therapist had said that it was his conscience. The guilt of what had happened was eating away at him. After increasing his meds, he had encouraged Suguru to talk to his friends about the nightmares, but he had never had the urge to.

Right this second, as he sat down in bed with you. Countless times, you had woken up alone, having to deal with the pain, fear, and memories in the dead of night. Now, it was different. You were with him held. This was why you had agreed to come with him to Okinawa. Even if the nightmares revolved around you, want to talk to anybody else about it

“I have nightmares about the accident over and over again. And it’s not just about Riko—it’s about you too.” Suguru went into details, telling you about the aquarium, Riko, and the street where she had died. In that dream, he described how Riko always blamed him for pushing you out of the way of the moving car. The entire time, you were silent, taking in his words, holding his hand, caressing the back of his knuckles with your thumb. You would give him a gentle, reassuring squeeze whenever his voice would crack or his gaze would linger on the sheets for too long.

You had known his nightmares were terrible, but you never knew how bad they were. Suguru had to suffer with them constantly. Of course, he would have insomnia! But there was one thing about the dreams that didn't make sense.

“Suguru, why do you think you pushed me out of the way?”

Your best friend blinked slowly, looking up from the bed to focus on your face. “Huh?” Confusion was etched into your features. “Be—because I did?” Suguru’s face contorted with confusion as you quickly moved forward, cupping his face in your hands.

“You didn't.” When he says nothing, you feel like your stomach is crawling up your throat. “Oh my god, Suguru, all these years, you seriously thought you had picked me over Riko?” His eyes go wide, and a mixture of relief and confusion swirls in the pit of his stomach. “Suguru, honey, I was across the street. Satoru stole my boba, so I chased him.”

“I—I don't remember that—”

“Of course you don't.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs. “You were crossing with Riko when the car lost control.” Images of that day flashed through Suguru’s mind. Him walking in front of Riko, grinning back at her on a perfect sunny day. “The second you saw the car coming, you turned around to grab her—” Your eyes watered as you could feel the heat creeping into his cheeks. “You wrapped her in your arms, shielding her. But her head hit the crib when you guys hit the ground.”

Hearing you tell him the truth, the details of what happened, brings the memories back. They were fuzzy and distorted, like a television during a horrible thunderstorm, but he could see the picture. You pouted, jumping up and down across the street as Satoru held your boba above his head. You were right; you were nowhere near him when the car lost control. It had just been him, Riko, and Kuroi.

He remembered the screaming and yelling as he heard the blaring car horn. Jumping into action, he grabbed Riko, pulling her into his chest, with his back towards the car. The hit hurt, but he tucked his body as he and Riko took the hit, slamming against the street hard. Everything hurt, and his ears had been ringing, but what mattered the most was that he and Riko were okay.

At least, that's what he had thought until he felt the warmth of spreading blood pooling beneath them.

The room felt like it was spinning as everything hit him at once. He hadn't pushed you out of the way. He tried to save Riko! He had shielded her. He didn't choose you over her.

“I—I tried to save her.”

“Yes, and it wasn't your fault that she passed. You did everything in your power to save her.” you brushed your thumbs over his flushed cheeks, watching as tears streamed down them. “It wasn't your fault.”

That truth, in a way, had set him free. Well, part of him, at least. That night, he lay there with you, watching you sleep, remembering how you screamed his name after he was hit, how you were the first person running towards him as soon as traffic stopped. You had been sobbing, stroking his hair back, holding his hand; you had been the one, holding his hand, sitting in the chair next to his hospital bed.

You, god, it was always you. How was it even possible for him to fall even deeper in love with you? He had to tell you how he felt, but he couldn't just blurt it out; he needed it to be perfect.

A week passed, and you were dragged down the sidewalk, grinning up at your best friend, who was holding your hand as tightly as he could. He was talking you to the aquarium to show you his work on the mural so far, which had been a vast improvement since he always dreaded going. But since last week, he seemed to be doing a bit better.

Just because he had realized that the accident itself was not his fault didn't mean he was going to heal overnight miraculously. It was more like he was a glass of dark water, and you had turned the faucet on, allowing clean water to start flowing in. Over time, the dark water would become more transparent and clearer. Riko and everything that happened here in Okinawa will always be part of Suguru, but thinking about it would be less painful over time.

“Come on, this way!” he grinned, pulling you through the halls and leading you to the area he’d been hired to work on.“I can’t wait to show you.”

“Okay! Okay!” You giggle, gripping his hand tighter as you enter the main aquarium you had been to when you were seventeen on your class trip.

The room had a certain blue hue as blue whales and other fish swam in the tanks around you. A wall on one side of the room had been zoned off with plastic covers, hiding what was going on behind the scenes. Suguru pulled the plastic cover back for you, and as you stepped inside. The second you’re both behind the fronted cover, Suguru turns on a light and points it to the wall.

There in all its well-sketched glory are Riko and the whales. You walk along the wall, fingers gently grazing over her sketched-out form, following the sketch. The wall had to be half a kilometer long, and seeing Suguru’s art on a wall like this was surreal. The pencil work was excellent to see it painted—you stopped in your tracks, taking in the wall.

It wasn’t just Riko, not anymore.

All your friends were there: Gojo, Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, Suguru, and you. Each of your friends was spread out, mixed in with different people, each other except for you and Suguru. The two of you were standing near each other. Seeing you on the wall near your best friend, depicting both of you grinning at each other, made your heart race.

God, you wanted to be with him so bad. You wanted to be more than friends. Especially now, seeing what he had drawn made you realize how badly you wanted to be his girlfriend.

“What do you think?” Suguru asked as he joined your side, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Yeah? The aquarium staff seem to like it, too.” His fingers trace over the pencil markings on the wall. “I can’t remember the last time I had been so excited about doing a piece like this.” You watch with bated breath as Suguru runs his thumb over your drawing on the wall. “I have a pretty amazing muse and friend to thank for pushing me.”

Friend.

You swallow hard, clenching your hands tight. Tonight, you would finally take Yuki’s advice and show him how you felt about him. You could do this!

While those thoughts were in your mind, you ran through different scenarios. Suguru was thinking about his plans. Tonight was the night he was going to tell you how he felt. He’s going to sit down with you and have an honest conversation about how much you meant to him. he wasn’t going to allow this façade to continue. Now was the time for honesty.

Honestly, it ended up with you kissing each other the second you made it back to the condo. Your hands tangled in his dark hair, and you kissed him with no remorse while he reciprocated with gentler kisses. You kicked the door shut, moaning into his mouth while he locked the door. You pushed him inside, turning into the bedroom, where you shoved him against the bed.

“Wh-whoa—“ he chuckled nervously, pushing himself on his elbows. “What’s gotten into you—mmhm!” You straddled his hip, kissing him harder, rocking eagerly against his crotch with whimpers and whines. Suguru groaned, hands twitching as he resisted the urge to grab your hips and rock you faster against him. “Y-You break that writer's bl—ahh fuck.”

“Mhmm.” Your pussy twitches against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Mmm~.” Gentle kisses are planted down Suguru’s neck, over and over, down to the collar of his shirt, where your teeth nip at.

“Princess—we should—“

“Shh, just relax.” You pull back, tugging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the ground before you do the same to Suguru.

Fuck, it was hard to relax with you being so seductive. Your perfect, beautiful body rocks and rolls against him, leaving Suguru wholly enamored by how gorgeous you look on top of him. His shaky hands gently grab your hips holding them, and you try with all of your might to rock against his cock.

You fight against his hold; you need him to know how much you care about him. You wanted to be more than just friends. Showing him how you felt was going to be your best bet. What better way to tell him you want to be more than friends than sleeping with him? If it worked for Yuki, surely it would work for you.

Reaching around your back, you unclasp your bra, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall to the bed, revealing your bare tits. They jiggle with each roll of your hips against his. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips before you slowly trail up the sides of your body. His fingers caress over your sensitive skin before inching further and further up until they cup your breasts.

As his hands gently massage them, your head rocks back while you rut your hips faster against his jeans. His cock throbs hard at your sensual rocking while his thumbs gently rub circles over your nipples, and his fingers knead at your sweet soft breasts. Out of all of the sessions you two had shared, this was by far the most sensual one. This felt real and raw.

Suguru felt it, too, as did how hot and heavy things were getting. He could feel how wet you were through your panties that hid underneath your floral skirt. He could see it in your face, the way your skin flushed, and your eyes rolled back as your hands gripped his pectoral muscles for support as you rolled your hips harder against his throbbing cock. That’s when he knew this wasn’t about your research; this was you taking control, taking what you wanted. He would’ve been happy for you to do that any other time.

But he didn’t want to be a one-time thing.

“Princess.” He began watching as you sat back on the heels of your feet, unbuckling his belt, the clanking of the metal deafening. “Princess.”

“It’s okay,” you pull the zipper to his jeans, tugging them down to his thighs.

“Hey—” his boxers are pulled down.

“Shh—” The Floral skirt is the next to go, flying across the room before your panties join it.

“Hey.”

“Sugu—”

“I can’t do this!”

He shouted, sitting up completely and staring at your naked body as your eyes widened with shock. Did Suguru not want to take this further? Was all of this to help you with your book, like really help you, nothing more than that?

Your chest heaves as your hands cover your breasts while you quickly slide off of his lap. Embarrassment, shame, and Amy of other emotions settle in your heart and stomach as his words repeatedly replay in your mind. This is not what you had anticipated when you sent your plan in motion. You thought that maybe deep down inside, he felt the same way you did.

Your eyes and the inside of your nose begin to burn with tears that you’re trying hard to hold back. What were you even supposed to say in a moment like this? What was the proper etiquette for being turned down by your best friend you had fallen in love with over the years? The only thing you could think was to collect your clothes and leave.

Before you even have a chance to jump off the bed and grab your panties to slide back on, Suguru pulls you back into his arms. Your bare chest is pressed firmly against his. The sudden reconnection of your body makes you inhale sharply as his hands slowly down your back.

“I can’t hook up with you.”

“Yeah, you made that clear, Sugu—“

“Stop!” One of his hands rests against the smell of your back while the other grabs you by the back of your head, pressing your forehead firmly against his. “I can’t just hook up with you because I love you!”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

INHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72 @makingtimemine @strflp @angel-academia @xocandyy

[tw1nkd3ath]

i am bored and have had A Long Day so have some party poison headcanons:

•they/them (obviously). their gender is simultaneously every gender and no gender at the same time

•they have borderline personality disorder. this caused them to be extra medicated back in the city. now, they’re finally off of any and all pills, and they’re learning how to actually live with their disorder. loves reading books about mental health, and trying to figure out how to take care of themself.

•speaking of drugs, poison quit the city pills before they escaped the city. they quickly fell into other pills and drugs in the zones though. it was familiar, and it made their brain shut up for once. they have very bad PTSD, more than anyone in the zones. they don’t know just how bad it actually is, and they’ll never speak of it, but the other three know just by the way poison is. they got clean after moving into the diner. they felt safe for once, and the other three were so supportive in keeping them off of drugs. it’s hard to deal with flashbacks and all of that; every day has to be taken one step at a time with them, but they’re making it through.

•loves dancing. more than anything, really. get them drunk and on a dance floor, and their smile is wider than you’ll ever see it. they love parties and clubs, until they don’t and they’re ready to go home. they’ll dance for hours, and all of a sudden they’ll go over to one of the other three and poke them on the shoulder and that’s when they all know they’re getting overstimulated and want to go home and crash.

•yknow how i said they love dancing more than anything? well i lied. the one thing they love more than dancing is singing. they’ll take the AM and go on drives where they sing for miles and miles to whatever’s on the radio. ghoul and kobra make them tapes of their favorite songs, and sometimes the four of them will have carpool karaoke.

•goes for drives to clear their head. they’re normally not allowed to go alone, unless one of the others approves it (poison once wrecked an old car of theirs while angry driving, they don’t wanna talk about it). normally ghoul will go with them, riding shotgun with poison’s hand in theirs. poison drives until they can’t remember what was bothering them when they first turned the key.

•surprisingly a very good cook. them and jet love to cook for the others when they have the ingredients to. poison’s favorite is what they call ‘slutty pasta,’ it’s pasta with a shitload of cheese melted into the sauce. yes, it does make them sick. yes, they will eat it anyway.

•loves looking cute all of the time. even their pajamas are somehow cute and coordinated.

•cannot own un-modified clothes. they have to personalize everything, and they’ve got a whole booth in the diner reserved for whatever patches they’re painting or skirt they’re making or jacket they’re embroidering. dr. death gives the fab four almost all of the art supplies he gets; between poison and kobra they blow through paints and glues and threads and things.

•sketchbooks sketchbooks sketchbooks. they’ve got two right now that they’re working on. they’ll glue/tape little things to the pages, so it’s sort of like a scrapbook with art and writing in it. they will tape literal garbage in it, though. they’ve got the butt of their first cigarette out of the city, a list someone gave them of thrift shops out in the zones, a piece of paper bag ghoul used to scoop weed grounds one time, and so on. the others poke fun of them for this, but they really love how sentimental poison is. show pony has a polaroid camera, and loves to take pictures of their friends and give them the little prints. poison glues them all into their sketchbooks, and looks through them when they’re having a bad day.

•in eating disorder recovery, killjoy style. they hardly ate when jet and ghoul found them and kobra, and they’re trying so hard to help them recover. if poison is struggling to eat a meal in front of them, ghoul will go “hey poison. you’re a pussy if you don’t eat that mac and cheese.” or “you’re not a real killjoy if you don’t eat all those chicken nuggets,” all while sporting a shit-eating grin. poison and kobra have gotten themselves both to a healthy weights finally, and everyone couldn’t be happier.

•cigarettes are their one true love. they first started smoking when they were fourteen. they dislike vaping (even though it’s become quite the fad in the zones, ever since people started smuggling them out of the city), they vaped for around a year and it killed their lungs. cigarettes only for poison, and they’d have it no other way.

•yknow how i said they decorate their clothes? well they also decorate the diner. they’ll hang up art made by them or kobra all over the walls of the diner, and they let kobra paint straight onto the walls.

•loves science for some reason? dr. death gives them all sorts of books on biology and animals and ecosystems and such, and they absolutely love it. they wanna be a biologist in another life. they love teaching the others about shit they read, like animal facts and such. kobra will listen to poison infodump for hours.

that is all for now thank you

[novaursa]

Of Gods and Men (covenant)

This is Dune/GOT/HOTD/FAB/ASOIAF crossover AU that you've voted for. If you always wanted to see House Targaryen in space, I got you. Please note how some of the lore of both universes is bent to blend in both worlds. This is my original idea that I've been cooking for at least two years. Be gentle with my work, and enjoy the ride.

- Summary: House Targaryen survives their ancient exile after being overthrown by House Corrino and the Bene Gesserit. Fleeing to the unknown planet Albiron, the Targaryens build a hidden civilization powered by drakaon crystals, reviving their dragons and creating advanced technology. Millennia later, whispers of their survival begin to surface as the Bene Gesserit confront a mysterious Red Woman on Arrakis, who warns of a coming Prince That Was Promised destined to challenge their control. The Targaryens secretly prepare to return, ready to reclaim their legacy.

- Paring: reader!Daenys Targaryen/Leto Atredies

- Note: For more details about House Targaryen and their technology, please check out the masterlist.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: daybreak

- Next part: god killer

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Half a year had passed since the alliance between House Atreides and House Targaryen had been sealed with parchment and promises. Now, in the grand city of Arrakeen, the bond between Leto and Daenys would be sealed with something far more lasting—marriage.

The day had come.

Arrakeen had never seen a celebration quite like this one. The streets were alive with music, banners, and the hum of a thousand voices. The once somber and desolate city was transformed into a vibrant festival, where representatives from allied Houses had gathered, not just from within the Imperium but from the far reaches of the Targaryen's hidden domain. House banners rippled in the hot desert winds, and there was no mistaking the awe that gripped those who had never before encountered the Targaryen sigil—the three-headed dragon on black, alongside the Atreides hawk.

Inside the towering stronghold, Leto stood at the far end of the hall, dressed in the deep green and gold of his House, his posture commanding, but his heart undeniably lighter than it had been in many months. His eyes were focused on the massive entrance doors, waiting for you—Daenys. He had dreamed of this moment, though it still felt surreal. The weight of leadership, of the war that loomed over them, fell away for just a moment. He was not just the Duke today. He was a man about to marry the woman who had come to mean more to him than he had thought possible.

Across from him stood the Targaryen delegation, Aenys resplendent in his armor, a silent observer of his daughter’s union. His expression, though calm and unreadable, carried the pride of a father knowing that his bloodline would now shape the future of Arrakis and beyond. Aelor and Maelor stood beside their father, the former nodding in approval to Leto, the latter slightly more cautious, but no less honored to witness this union.

And then the doors opened.

All eyes turned as you stepped into the hall, your figure framed by the light of the desert sun spilling through the doorway. You moved with the quiet grace of a dragonlord’s daughter, wearing a gown woven with threads of silver and red, reminiscent of your family’s ancient colors. Dragonscale patterns glimmered faintly across the fabric, a nod to your heritage, and yet the simplicity of the gown allowed your natural beauty to shine through.

The hall fell into a reverent hush as you walked toward Leto, your gaze locking with his. His breath caught in his throat for a moment—he had seen you in battle, watched you soar on the back of your dragon, but in this moment, you were more radiant than ever before. And you were his.

As you approached, Leto stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his heart pounding with something more than just nerves. He could see the same emotions reflected in your lilac eyes, a mix of anticipation and warmth that made him feel at ease. This wasn’t just a political arrangement anymore. It was something real, something profound that would bind you both in ways neither of you had expected when you first met.

The ceremony began, overseen by a Fremen elder and a representative of the Targaryen faith—an unusual combination that symbolized the unity not just between two noble Houses, but between two entirely different worlds. The elder’s voice was low and steady, speaking words of unity and strength, while the Targaryen priestess invoked the ancient words of Valyria, calling upon the power of dragons to bless the union.

And then came the vows.

Leto took your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. His voice, usually so commanding, softened as he spoke. “Daenys,” he began, “I’ve stood on many battlegrounds, faced countless dangers… but none of that compares to the honor of standing here, before you. Today, I take you not just as my wife, but as my partner in all things. Together, we will face whatever comes, and I will stand beside you, as we forge the future of our Houses.”

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand in return. When you spoke, your voice was filled with the same strength and tenderness. “Leto, my journey began long before I came to Arrakis, but in you, I found someone worth standing with. You’ve faced hardships that few could understand, and yet you’ve remained strong, not just for your House, but for the people who rely on you. Today, I promise to be your strength, as you have been mine, and together, we will bring fire and life to this world.”

The final words were spoken, and the Fremen elder nodded, stepping back to allow the couple to seal their union.

Leto leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of more than just duty or alliance. It was a promise—of love, of partnership, and of a future together, no matter what dangers lay ahead.

As the kiss ended, the hall erupted in applause, the sound filling the chamber as the guests celebrated the new union. Leto smiled at you, his heart full as he turned to the crowd, hand in yours, ready to face the world as husband and wife.

The celebration that followed was grand, as expected, with banquets and music filling the stronghold well into the night. Fremen, Atreides soldiers, and Targaryen warriors alike mingled together, enjoying the shared moment of peace and joy. The vast hallways were decorated with banners from both Houses, and the sound of instruments from both worlds blended harmoniously, a symbol of the unity that had been achieved.

As the night wore on, Leto found a moment to pull you aside, away from the prying eyes of guests. You stood together on one of the high terraces, overlooking the vast desert that stretched out before you. The stars above were bright, twinkling against the deep black of the Arrakis sky.

Leto turned to you, his hand still in yours, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “This is the beginning of something incredible, Daenys,” he said, his gaze locked on yours. “We’ve done what many thought impossible.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “We have. And we’ll continue to surprise them.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you closer. “I never imagined I’d be standing here, like this. But now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.”

From a distance, Paul, Gurney, and Duncan stood on one of the smaller terraces, overlooking the grand festivities below. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, but their attention was elsewhere—focused on Leto and you, as the Duke gently pulled you aside for a moment of privacy. The newlyweds stood together, just beyond the reach of the crowd, silhouetted against the desert sky, their conversation private but their bond visible to anyone who cared to look.

Duncan watched the scene with a sly grin, nudging Paul lightly with his elbow. "Well, looks like the Duke has finally found someone to keep him on his toes," he said, his tone light with amusement. "Can’t say I blame him."

Paul, who had spent the last several months getting to know you better, chuckled softly. "She’s strong—stronger than anyone I’ve met. Father’s in good hands."

Gurney, standing with his arms crossed, nodded in agreement. His usually gruff demeanor softened ever so slightly as he watched the two of you together. "The lass will do the Duke some good," he remarked, his voice tinged with affection. "She’s got that fire in her, but there’s a kindness too. Just what Leto needs."

Duncan smiled at Gurney’s rare moment of sentimentality. "Is that so, Gurney? You sound like you’re getting soft on us."

Gurney shot him a look, though there was no real heat in it. "Don’t push your luck, Duncan."

Paul couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between the two men. It was a rare moment of levity in a life that had been filled with far too much uncertainty and danger. His eyes, however, remained on you and Leto. There was something about the way you both stood together, the ease with which you interacted, that struck a chord in him. It was clear that the bond between you and his father was deeper than politics or duty—it was something real, something Paul hadn’t seen before in his father.

As the conversation between the three men continued, Aenys Targaryen walked nearby, flanked by his sons, Aelor and Maelor. The Dragonlord’s eyes lingered on the scene, but his thoughts seemed elsewhere. He walked with slow, deliberate steps, his expression more thoughtful than celebratory.

"It’s a shame your mother couldn’t be here to witness this," Aenys remarked quietly to his sons, his voice carrying the weight of his thoughts. "She would have been proud to see how far we’ve come, how our House is forging new paths." His tone was soft but tinged with regret, the burden of his wife’s absence weighing on him.

Aelor, ever the calm and measured son, nodded solemnly. "She’s bedridden, but I’m sure she knows, Father. She would have wanted to be here, but her health…"

Maelor, less guarded than his older brother, spoke with a more direct tone. "She would have loved this. Seeing Daenys marry into another powerful House, especially one like Atreides." He glanced over at the crowd below, where you and Leto stood. "But we know she’s with us in spirit."

Aenys let out a sigh, his gaze briefly flickering to the stars. "I hope so. The future of our House is bright, but it comes with its own burdens. I wonder how much of that she truly understands."

The Dragonlord’s voice trailed off as they continued walking, the weight of responsibility ever present on his shoulders. Though he spoke of his wife’s absence, there was an undeniable pride in his voice when he spoke of you. The alliance between Targaryen and Atreides was more than just a political move—it was a union that had the potential to reshape the galaxy. But even in the midst of such monumental events, Aenys couldn't help but lament the personal moments his wife was missing.

Jassica wandered the fringes of the festivities, her steps unsteady with the weight of her thoughts. The flickering lanterns that illuminated the courtyard felt like a distant blur as her mind raced, filled with the unsettling awareness that the noose of the Sisterhood was tightening around her neck—and worse, around Paul’s.

Since they had arrived on Arrakis, Jessica had watched with growing unease as Paul began to embrace the desert, to find his purpose in realizing Leto’s dreams of reshaping this hostile planet. And now, with this cursed alliance between Atreides and Targaryen, Paul’s path seemed to drift further from the one the Sisterhood had laid out for him. The dream they had carefully crafted for generations was slipping from her grasp, and there was nothing more dangerous than a plan coming undone.

Jessica’s eyes scanned the crowd, moving over the various guests with a distant detachment until her gaze landed on you. You were standing not far from Leto, but your attention was elsewhere, your body language suggesting that you were briefly disengaged from the festivities. For a moment, Jessica hesitated. She had been putting this off, avoiding what she knew needed to be said, but tonight… tonight, the time had come.

The fear she felt wasn’t just for herself or for Paul, but for what the future held if she didn’t confront you. And underneath that fear was something darker—an unsettling truth that gnawed at her: you were immune to her Bene Gesserit powers, to the subtle manipulations that had guided so many others. The Targaryens, with their dragon blood, were immune to the Sisterhood’s control. You couldn’t be bent or swayed by the techniques that had served her for so long.

She straightened her posture, swallowing her trepidation as she moved toward you. The crowd parted easily for her as she approached, the others unaware of the silent storm brewing beneath her composed exterior. When she reached you, her voice was calm, but the urgency was unmistakable.

"Daenys," Jessica began, her tone measured, "I need to speak with you."

You turned to her, your expression neutral but alert, as if sensing the weight of what was to come. There was a brief pause between you, the distant sounds of the celebration fading as a strange stillness settled between you two.

"I know what this is about," you said, your voice steady, not needing to hear the words. "You want to talk about Paul."

Jessica’s gaze sharpened, though she forced herself to remain calm. "You’ve become close to him. Closer than I would have liked."

You gave a slight nod. "Paul has questions, and I’ve answered them. I’ve been honest with him. Something your Sisterhood doesn’t seem to value as much as secrecy."

Jessica stiffened at the mention of the Sisterhood, feeling the unspoken accusation laced in your words. It was true, of course, but it wasn’t something she could admit openly. Not to you, not now.

"This isn’t about honesty," she said, her voice tightening. "It’s about influence. You know what Paul is meant for. What his future is supposed to be. You—your people—have derailed everything. You’ve changed his path."

You met her gaze evenly, unflinching. "Perhaps his path was never meant to be the one you planned. Paul isn’t a tool in your game, Jessica. He has a mind of his own. Maybe it’s time you realized that."

The air between you grew heavy, a silent battle of wills, but Jessica knew there was no use in trying to manipulate you. You were immune to her tricks, her subtle influence. The Bene Gesserit had tried for generations to touch the Targaryens, but your bloodline, steeped in the fire of dragons, was beyond their reach.

Still, she couldn’t let this go. She couldn’t stand by and watch as her son’s destiny slipped further and further from the Sisterhood’s control.

"Do you even understand what’s at stake?" Jessica’s voice lowered, her frustration spilling over. "What your presence here, your influence on Paul, could mean for him? For all of us?"

You studied her for a long moment, your lilac eyes unwavering. "I know more than you think, Jessica," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "I know that your Sisterhood has spent generations trying to create a weapon—a person who can bend the future to their will. Paul may be part of that plan, but he’s not yours to control."

Jessica’s breath caught at your words, and for the first time, she felt truly outmatched. It wasn’t just that you were immune to her powers; it was that you saw through her in a way that unnerved her. You knew the deeper game, the one she had tried so hard to keep hidden.

"I won’t let you take him from me," Jessica said, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "I won’t let you sever him from his destiny."

You stepped closer, your expression softening, though your voice remained resolute. "I’m not taking Paul from you. But maybe it’s time you let him decide his own destiny. Let him be the man he was meant to be, not the weapon you want him to become."

The words hung in the air, heavy with truth and challenge. Jessica stood there, feeling the weight of her failure—her inability to control this situation, to bend it to her will. And she knew, in that moment, that she had lost the battle she hadn’t even realized she was fighting.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, leaving Jessica standing alone amidst the celebration, the sounds of joy and laughter feeling distant and hollow. She had played the game for so long, but tonight, she realized that the rules had changed.

And the Sisterhood would not forgive her for it.

As Jessica stood there, she glanced toward Leto, who was now laughing quietly with Aenys and the others, and she understood with cold clarity that her time of influence over House Atreides was coming to an end.

Her son was slipping away, just as Leto had.

At the center of the hall, Stilgar was locked in an amusing debate with Serus Ix and his sister Xyla Ix, their exchange drawing the attention of many nearby. The topic? Something as trivial as desert hydrophonics and whether Ixian technology could outlast Fremen ingenuity in the harsh conditions of Arrakis.

"I’m telling you," Stilgar said with his usual gruffness, his arms crossed, "you could drop your fancy machines into the desert, and in a week, the sand would eat them alive. There is no machine you’ve made that could survive the heat and the worms."

Serus raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Oh, come now, Stilgar. Our machines are built for extremes. You underestimate us! What do you think keeps those harvesters running day after day?"

"The sweat of the Fremen, that’s what," Stilgar shot back with a grin, and a wave of laughter rippled through the room.

Leto and Daenys stood nearby, watching the lighthearted exchange. Leto’s arm rested lightly around your waist, his posture relaxed as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. It had been a long time since the Duke had allowed himself such a moment of peace, and your presence at his side made it all the more precious.

"Who do you think will win this argument?" Leto asked quietly, an amused smile playing at his lips.

You smiled, your gaze fixed on the lively debate. "I’d say it’s a tie. Serus won’t back down, but Stilgar has the wit and the desert on his side."

Leto chuckled softly. "I think you might be right."

The laughter from the debate drew the attention of those around them, but the mood remained light, even as Duncan approached from the far side of the room, his usual composed demeanor softened by the humor in the air. Paul sat nearby, observing it all with the quiet fascination of someone absorbing every detail.

After a moment, you turned to Leto, your eyes sparkling with an idea. "Tomorrow," you said, your voice playful, "I’m taking you to ride with me on Vexiae."

Leto, caught entirely off guard, nearly choked on his drink. He sputtered, setting the glass down with wide eyes, a bit of wine trickling down the side of his mouth. "You—you want me to what?"

Across the room, Duncan, who had heard the comment, barely managed to stifle his laughter, his shoulders shaking as he pretended to be deeply interested in something else. Paul, watching his father’s reaction, grinned widely, thoroughly amused by the prospect.

Even Aenys, who had been in conversation with Aelor, turned his head just enough to smirk at Leto’s reaction, though he said nothing. It was clear he found the idea as amusing as anyone else.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at Leto’s surprise, leaning in closer to him. "Oh, come now, Duke. You said you wanted to understand my world better, didn’t you?"

"I didn’t mean riding a dragon!" Leto exclaimed, still trying to process the idea. He wiped his mouth, glancing around the room to see everyone watching with varying degrees of amusement.

You shrugged, your eyes dancing with mischief. "It’s the best way to see the desert."

"Or fall to my death," Leto muttered, though there was a glimmer of excitement beneath his protest.

"Vexiae won’t let that happen," you reassured him, a knowing smile playing at your lips. "Besides, you trust me, don’t you?"

Leto met your gaze, his eyes softening as he realized there was no escaping this. "I do," he admitted with a sigh, shaking his head with an affectionate smile. "I just didn’t think you’d try to kill me before the honeymoon."

More laughter erupted around them as the others enjoyed the playful banter between the Duke and his new bride. Duncan, no longer able to hold back, finally let out a full laugh. "You’ll be fine, Leto. Just hold on tight and keep your eyes open."

"Easy for you to say," Leto grumbled good-naturedly, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward in amusement.

Aenys finally joined in, his voice rich with humor. "Don’t worry, Leto. You’ll get used to it after the first drop."

"The first drop?" Leto looked at Aenys in alarm, but the Dragonlord merely gave him a pat on the shoulder before turning back to his conversation with Aelor.

You leaned closer, your voice soft and teasing. "Tomorrow, at sunrise. Be ready."

Leto sighed again, but this time there was no real reluctance in his expression—just a mix of affection and nervous anticipation. He smiled at you, his heart full, despite the uncertainty that came with your adventurous spirit.

"All right, Daenys," he said with a resigned chuckle, "I’ll be ready."

The night air of Arrakeen was cool, a rare relief from the heat of the desert, as Leto and Daenys made their way through the quiet halls of the stronghold. The celebrations outside continued, but the two of you had slipped away, eager for the privacy that awaited behind the doors of your chambers.

As the door closed behind you, the world beyond seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you bathed in the soft, warm glow of the lanterns that flickered along the walls. The silence was filled with anticipation, the quiet intimacy of the moment drawing you both closer.

Leto turned to you, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you gently against him, and in that moment, all the formality of the day melted away. His fingers brushed against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through you.

“I can’t believe we’re here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “After everything… we’re finally alone.”

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. “Alone at last.”

The kiss that followed was slow, deliberate—filled with a passion that had been building for what felt like an eternity. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that belied the hunger beneath, and you responded in kind, deepening the kiss until the world outside ceased to exist. There was nothing now but the warmth of his body against yours, the steady thrum of your heartbeats in sync.

As you kissed, Leto’s hands began to roam, slipping beneath the layers of fabric that still clung to your bodies. Your clothing fell away, piece by piece, until there was nothing between you but bare skin. The heat of your bodies mingled, and his touch, so gentle at first, became more insistent, his need for you growing with every passing second.

Without breaking the kiss, you guided him toward the bed, your lips never leaving his. The room seemed to blur around you as you moved, your breaths quickening in time with the building desire between you. His hands were firm yet tender as they explored every inch of you, learning the curves of your body, savoring the way you responded to his touch.

When you finally reached the bed, Leto lowered you onto the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours with a weight that felt both comforting and exhilarating. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a line of fire in their wake, and you arched into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The night was filled with passion, wild and untamed, yet underpinned by something deeper—love. Every kiss, every touch, every whispered word was a testament to the bond you had forged, one that transcended the political alliance that had brought you together. This was something real, something raw, something that neither of you had expected but had both come to cherish.

As your bodies moved together, the world outside faded into nothingness. There was only the two of you, lost in each other, in the rhythm of your shared breaths, in the heat that built between you until it reached its inevitable climax.

When it was over, you lay in the quiet aftermath, the sheets tangled around your bodies, your skin still warm and slick from the exertion of your lovemaking. Leto’s arm was draped over your waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he gazed at you with a soft smile that made your heart swell.

“You should sleep,” you whispered, your voice still breathless. “You’ll need your strength for tomorrow… for Vexiae.”

Leto chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You want to become a widow after one day of marriage, is that it?”

You laughed, a light sound that filled the room, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his in a tender caress. “I won’t let you fall, Leto. Trust me.”

“I do,” he murmured, his fingers tightening slightly around you. “I trust you more than anyone.”

You kissed him again, softer this time, a promise of more to come. As you lay in the quiet of your shared chambers, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, the weight of the world outside seemed to disappear. For now, there was only this—only the two of you, together.

As the night grew late and the last echoes of laughter and music began to fade into the desert winds, Paul wandered away from the remaining guests, his steps deliberate as he sought out the one person who had distanced herself from the festivities. He found his mother, Jessica, standing alone near the far edge of the courtyard, her figure silhouetted against the moonlit dunes beyond.

She stood with her arms folded tightly, her gaze distant, as though the weight of everything she carried was too much to bear. Paul watched her for a moment, feeling the tension radiating from her. He knew the burden she carried—it was one of fear, control, and the knowledge that the future was slipping away from her grasp.

Taking a deep breath, Paul approached, his presence calm but resolute. "Mother," he said softly.

Jessica didn’t turn to face him immediately, but he saw the slight stiffness in her shoulders as she acknowledged his presence. For a long moment, she remained silent, staring out into the night. When she finally spoke, her voice was laced with frustration and something deeper—fear.

"Paul," she said quietly, "both you and your father are making a mistake."

Paul’s expression remained steady as he came to stand beside her. He had been expecting this, knowing how deeply his mother had resisted the path they were on. He had seen it in her eyes, felt it in her presence ever since the Targaryens had entered their lives. And yet, he knew this path was the only one that mattered.

"You’re wrong, Mother," he said, his voice unwavering. "Without Daenys, Father would be dead."

Jessica finally turned to him at that, her eyes searching his face, looking for something—doubt, hesitation, anything that might confirm her own fears. But Paul’s conviction was unshakable, and that, more than anything, unsettled her. His words held such finality, such certainty.

"You can’t be certain of that," Jessica said, her voice sharper now. "There are too many futures, too many possibilities. You’re too young to understand how easily things can shift. How quickly everything can fall apart."

Paul held her gaze, his own eyes filled with a quiet intensity that Jessica hadn’t seen in him before. "I’ve seen it," he said simply, his words cutting through the doubt like a blade. "In every other future, Father dies. In every single one—except this one."

The certainty in his voice made Jessica pause. There was something in the way he spoke, something that felt almost prophetic, and for a moment, she couldn’t find her voice. Her son—her son, who she had raised and trained, who carried the hopes of the Sisterhood—was slipping away from her control. And what frightened her the most was that she didn’t know how to stop it.

"You’ve seen it," she repeated, almost to herself, her mind racing as she tried to process what he was saying. "The future…"

Paul nodded, his expression softening just a fraction. "Yes, Mother. I’ve seen it. And Daenys—she’s the key. She saved him. Without her, none of this would have been possible."

Jessica’s eyes hardened, and her fear took on a sharper edge. "The Sisterhood will not forgive this. You know what they want, Paul. What they’ve planned. This alliance, this marriage—it’s a betrayal of everything they’ve worked for."

Paul’s lips pressed into a thin line, his own frustrations beginning to surface. He had always known the Bene Gesserit had their own agenda, but the more he saw, the more he understood that their plans were never meant to protect him or his father. They had always been about control—control of the future, of bloodlines, of destinies. And he was done being a pawn.

"They would have betrayed us too, Mother," Paul said firmly. "They would have left us to the mercy of the Harkonnens and the Emperor. They’ve been playing their own game, and you know it. You’ve always known it."

Jessica flinched at his words, the truth of them striking too close to home. She had spent years walking the fine line between loyalty to the Sisterhood and love for Leto and Paul. But now, with the future hanging in the balance, that line had blurred beyond recognition.

Her silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears and the weight of a lifetime of decisions. Paul watched her, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their paths were diverging, that he could no longer follow the course she had laid out for him. His future—his true future—was his to shape, not the Sisterhood’s.

"You don’t have to agree with me, Mother," Paul said softly, "but I need you to understand. This is the only way forward. I won’t let them control me—or Father—anymore."

Jessica’s eyes shimmered with emotion, and for a moment, Paul thought she might say something—something to bridge the growing gap between them. But instead, she turned away, her face set in a mask of quiet resignation.

"Just be careful, Paul," she said, her voice low and pained. "Be careful where you place your trust. There are forces at work here that neither of us can control."

Paul nodded, understanding the warning in her words, but knowing that his course was already set. The future was uncertain, but in this moment, one thing was clear: his path lay with Leto and Daenys, and the world they were trying to build.

And whatever the Sisterhood had planned, Paul would no longer be a part of it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon Leto found himself standing beside you at the edge of the courtyard. The air was cool, still tinged with the lingering chill of the night, but there was an electric hum of excitement in the air—one that had been building ever since you had made your proposal the night before.

Leto glanced sideways at you, and despite his best efforts to appear calm and composed, there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Are you absolutely sure about this?" he asked, his voice betraying just a touch of anxiety.

You smiled, your lilac eyes gleaming in the early morning light. "Don’t worry, Leto. I’ve done this a thousand times. Vexiae is more than capable."

Leto swallowed, clearly trying to convince himself that this was a perfectly reasonable activity for a newlywed Duke to be undertaking. "Right," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "What could possibly go wrong?"

From the steps behind you, Duncan, Gurney, Aenys, Paul, and Hawat watched the preparations with varying degrees of amusement and disbelief. Duncan crossed his arms over his chest, grinning from ear to ear as he leaned over to Gurney. "I’m betting five solari that the Duke screams at least once before they hit the desert."

Gurney chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, you’ll hear more than a scream, lad. If the Duke survives this without wetting himself, I’ll eat my stillsuit."

"Your faith in the Duke is inspiring," Paul said, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips showed he shared their amusement.

Hawat, always the pragmatist, eyed the dragon with a mixture of fascination and concern. "If the Duke falls off, we’ll need to ready an emergency team," he muttered under his breath. "I’ve seen some strange things in my time, but this…"

"You worry too much, Hawat," Aenys said with a wry grin, his arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. "She won’t let him fall. Probably."

At that moment, Vexiae, your dragon, let out a deep, resonant growl that reverberated through the air, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. The magnificent creature spread her wings, her molten-red scales catching the rising sun, casting a golden glow over her sleek, powerful form. The sight was awe-inspiring, even for those who had seen dragons before.

Leto stared up at the beast, then at you, then back at the beast. "You’re sure about this?" he asked again, his voice cracking slightly.

"Yes," you said with a laugh, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "Trust me. Vexiae won’t let you fall."

Leto took a deep breath, straightened his posture, and nodded. "All right then. Let’s do this."

With your help, Leto climbed onto Vexiae’s back, his movements a bit stiff as he tried to settle himself into the saddle behind you. His hands gripped the edges of the saddle with white-knuckled determination, and it was clear to anyone watching that this was going to be a test of his composure.

You turned slightly, giving him a wink. "Hold on tight."

Before Leto could respond, Vexiae’s wings snapped open with a thunderous whoosh, and with a powerful leap, the dragon took to the sky. The rush of wind hit them immediately, the ground falling away as the city of Arrakeen became a distant blur beneath them.

"DID SHE JUST TAKE OFF WITHOUT WARNING?!" Leto’s voice carried through the wind, high-pitched and panicked, as he clung to the saddle for dear life.

Duncan, Gurney, and the others burst into laughter as they watched the dragon soar higher, Leto’s shouts of terror echoing back down to them. "There it is," Duncan said with a grin, slapping Gurney on the shoulder. "That’s the scream I was waiting for."

Gurney wiped a tear from his eye, barely able to contain his own laughter. "Oh, Leto's going to have stories to tell after this one."

Paul, still smirking, crossed his arms as he watched the dragon loop gracefully over the city, heading toward the deep desert. "He’ll get used to it," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

High above, as the city below began to shrink into a collection of sand-colored specks, Leto finally found his voice again. "I’m starting to think this was a terrible idea!"

You laughed, leaning back slightly so he could hear you better. "You’ll be fine! Just don’t let go!"

Leto let out a shaky breath, his knuckles still white from his death grip on the saddle. But slowly, as the wind rushed past them and the desert opened up beneath them, the sheer majesty of the experience began to sink in. The vast expanse of Arrakis stretched out as far as the eye could see, and the sun bathed the sands in a golden light, making the dunes shimmer like waves on the ocean.

"I… I can’t believe it," Leto muttered, his voice quieter now, filled with awe rather than fear. "This is incredible."

You smiled, glancing over your shoulder at him. "I told you, didn’t I?"

For the next few moments, they flew in peaceful silence, the wind rushing past them as Vexiae carried them effortlessly through the sky. Leto’s grip on the saddle slowly relaxed, and he even managed a tentative smile as they glided over the desert, the morning light casting long shadows across the dunes.

Back on the ground, Gurney shook his head, still grinning. "Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe he won’t need new trousers after all."

Aenys chuckled, watching as the dragon disappeared over the horizon. "He’ll be a proper dragonrider before you know it."

As Leto and you soared through the sky, the fear that had gripped him earlier began to melt away, replaced by a sense of freedom he hadn’t known before. It was exhilarating, terrifying, and beautiful all at once. And for the first time in a long while, Leto felt truly alive.

As they circled back toward the city, Leto leaned closer to you, his voice softer now, filled with wonder. "I think I’m starting to see why you love this so much."

You smiled, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze. "I knew you would."

And with that, the two of you soared back toward Arrakeen, high above the sands of Arrakis, where the world felt limitless, and the future—whatever it held—seemed just a little brighter.

The chambers aboard the Harkonnen flagship were surounded by cold steel walls. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen sat at the head of the table, his massive form hunched forward, eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. His ever-present suspensors hummed faintly, carrying his bulk just enough to make his movements fluid despite his size. His nephew Feyde-Rautha leaned against a pillar nearby, his smirk betraying his impatience, while his brutish brother Raban stood near the doorway, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else. The Baron’s Mentat, Pieter De Vries, hovered close by, his pale eyes glinting with the cold, mechanical calculation of a man whose mind was a maze of schemes.

On the table before them was a holographic display of Arrakis, its cities and territories illuminated in sharp detail. The Targaryen base was marked, and so too was Arrakeen, where House Atreides still held firm. For now.

"So," the Baron began, his voice a slow, oily rumble that seemed to fill every corner of the room, "we have finally perfected it." His thick fingers tapped idly against the armrest of his floating chair, a look of deep satisfaction crossing his bloated features. "A weapon that can take down a dragon."

The words hung in the air, heavy with sinister promise. Feyde’s smirk widened as he straightened from his lazy slouch, his eyes gleaming with the prospect of revenge. Ever since that encounter on the frozen wasteland of Arctis, the reader had haunted him. The way she had humiliated him—fleeing from him, slipping through his fingers like sand—had gnawed at him endlessly. Now, he would have his chance.

"Finally," Feyde drawled, running a hand through his hair. "When can we strike? I’ve been waiting long enough to deal with that dragon-riding witch. I’ve chased her across the stars, and yet she keeps slipping away."

The Baron gave his nephew a look of mild amusement, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Patience, my dear Feyde. Patience. All things in time."

Raban, ever the brute, grunted from his place near the door. "Just tell us when to hit them. I’m tired of sitting around."

Pieter stepped forward, his eyes gleaming as he addressed the group. "The weapon is ready, but we must move carefully. It fires concentrated bursts of energy capable of disrupting even the strongest shields—Targaryen or otherwise. A direct hit on a dragon’s wings or its vital points will bring it crashing down from the sky. But we must keep this… advantage… to ourselves."

The Baron nodded, his eyes narrowing as his fingers drummed against the table. "Indeed. We can’t let the Emperor or his Sardaukar get wind of this. If Shaddam learns of the weapon, he’ll want it for himself, and I have no intention of giving him such power."

Feyde’s expression darkened. "Then what’s the plan, Uncle? I’ve waited long enough to settle this score."

The Baron glanced at him, his amusement returning. "Eager, are we? Very well. We will strike soon, but not yet. There’s still much to be done. House Atreides is strong, and with the Targaryens at their side, we cannot afford to be careless."

Pieter folded his hands behind his back, his voice cool and methodical. "We must weaken them first. Isolate them. Draw them out where they are vulnerable. Once the Atreides and Targaryens are separated, we can strike the dragons. When they are grounded, they will be nothing more than myth turned to ash."

"Grounded?" Feyde’s grin widened at the thought. "That’s all I need. Once that dragon is out of the sky, she’s mine."

Raban grunted again, his arms crossed. "And the Emperor?"

The Baron waved a dismissive hand. "Let the Emperor deal with his Sardaukar. He doesn’t need to know what we’re planning, not yet. Shaddam thinks he controls the game, but we’ve always played by our own rules. The Targaryens—dragons or not—will fall, just like House Atreides will."

The room was silent for a moment as the weight of the plan settled over them. The Baron’s gaze flicked between his nephews, his Mentat, and the holographic image of Arrakis flickering before them. His plans, always shifting, always moving toward his ultimate goal, were nearing fruition.

"Once we strike," the Baron said slowly, "we will take everything from Leto. His House, his alliances, his future. And as for the dragon girl," he added, turning his cold gaze to Feyde, "you’ll have your moment with her. But don’t make the mistake of underestimating her again. She has proven… resilient."

Feyde’s eyes gleamed dangerously. "This time, she won’t get away. I’ll make sure of it."

The Baron smiled darkly. "See that you do."

Pieter nodded in agreement, his mechanical mind already working through the details. "Our forces are nearly ready. Once we move, it will be swift. Silent. We cannot afford to leave loose ends."

The Baron’s smile widened, his fingers steepling beneath his chin. "Good. Then it begins soon. But remember, this weapon—this power—stays with us. No one else must know, not even the Emperor. The time for secrets is upon us, and those secrets will be our victory."

As the meeting drew to a close, the Baron’s eyes gleamed with the dark satisfaction of a man who knew he held the upper hand. For now, the Atreides and Targaryens were united, but soon… soon, they would fall.

And the dragons would burn.

The soft hiss of the cylinder's seal being broken echoed in Leto's private study as Hawat handed him the sealed message bearing the unmistakable sigil of House Corrino. The weight of the small object felt heavier than it should have, as if the Emperor’s presence was already looming in the room, pressing down on everything with unseen authority.

Leto unrolled the message, his eyes quickly scanning the formal wording. His brow furrowed as he read further, tension building in the set of his jaw.

The Emperor, Shaddam IV, was coming to Arrakis in a few weeks. Accompanied by representatives from both The Guild and the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood. It wasn’t a casual visit, and it certainly wasn’t an admission of defeat after the failed attack on House Atreides and the Targaryens. No, this visit had a purpose, one cloaked in polite diplomacy but undoubtedly laced with veiled threats.

Leto set the message down on the table, the edges of the parchment curling as it settled. He exhaled slowly, his eyes dark with frustration. "What do you make of this, Hawat?"

The old Mentat, standing quietly by the window, didn’t answer immediately. He stared out at the dusty horizon of Arrakeen, the city still buzzing with activity below them, though everything felt strangely tense, like a coiled spring waiting to snap.

"Emperors don’t come to planets like Arrakis without purpose, my Lord," Hawat said at last, his voice low and contemplative. "And Shaddam doesn’t admit mistakes. If he’s coming, it’s because he believes he can still turn the situation in his favor. He’ll come with an offer. One that seems to benefit you, but in reality, it will only serve to strengthen his hold on the throne."

Leto’s hands clenched into fists, the muscles in his arms tightening as anger bubbled beneath his calm exterior. "His hold on the throne should be the last of his worries. After what he tried to pull with the Harkonnens, he should be on his knees asking for forgiveness."

"He’s not the type to kneel," Hawat said dryly. "No doubt the Guild and the Sisterhood will try to sway your decisions as well. They’ll each have their own interests, all woven into this elaborate web of power."

Leto stood abruptly, pacing the length of his study. His frustration boiled over, filling the air around him with an unspoken tension. "The Harkonnens are still out there. They’ve been spotted in the deep desert near the Targaryen base. They’re preparing for something—another strike, maybe."

He paused, his gaze darkening as his thoughts turned to you—Daenys. His wife. The mother of his unborn child. She had been spending more time at the Targaryen base recently, overseeing the expansions with her brothers, but there was always that underlying threat of danger, especially now with the news of the Harkonnens lurking nearby.

"And with Daenys pregnant..." Leto’s voice trailed off, the thought too bitter to finish. His anger simmered beneath the surface, but there was fear there too—fear for her, for their child, for everything they had fought to protect.

Hawat’s gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained composed. "We must prepare carefully, my Lord. The Emperor’s visit is not just about power—it’s about control. He knows your House has gained strength, especially with the Targaryen alliance. He’ll want to ensure that any threats to his reign are neutralized."

Leto stopped pacing, turning to face Hawat with a deep frown. "Neutralized?"

"Yes," Hawat said, nodding slowly. "He may offer you something that seems too good to refuse. Perhaps a guarantee of safety or some form of protection. But it will come at a cost. And if we’re not careful, that cost may be too high."

Leto clenched his fists, the frustration mounting. "The gall of him... to come here after all this. To dare show his face while the Harkonnens are still out there, plotting, while Daenys carries our child..."

Hawat stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. "This is why we must tread carefully. We can’t let our emotions guide us, my Lord. The Emperor is dangerous, and he won’t hesitate to exploit any weakness he sees. He’ll test you—test us all."

Leto exhaled slowly, trying to temper his rage, to think clearly through the anger that clouded his judgment. "We’ll need to be prepared for anything."

"Indeed," Hawat agreed, folding his hands behind his back. "And we must assume the Harkonnens will use the Emperor’s visit to their advantage as well. We can’t let our guard down. Not for a moment."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of what was coming pressing down on both men like a suffocating cloud. Leto’s mind raced, the possibilities spinning in his thoughts like a storm. The Emperor’s visit would change everything, for better or worse. And in the meantime, the shadow of the Harkonnens still loomed large, a threat that hadn’t been fully eradicated.

Leto ran a hand through his hair, staring out the window at the city below. "Make sure all preparations are in place for the Emperor’s arrival," he said finally, his voice quiet but filled with resolve. "And have Vaegor’s men keep a close watch on any Harkonnen activity. If they move on the Targaryen base again, I want to know about it immediately."

Hawat nodded, already planning the necessary precautions in his mind. "I’ll see to it personally."

As Hawat turned to leave, Leto remained at the window, his gaze fixed on the endless horizon of the desert. 

He thought of Daenys again, her strength, her fire, and the child they were about to bring into the world. He would fight for them, for his House, for their future—no matter what the Emperor had planned.

And if the Harkonnens dared to strike again, they would find themselves facing not just the fury of House Atreides, but the wrath of dragons.

...

"They are twins. A boy and a girl."

You pause for a moment, letting his words hang in the still air of the room. The flickering light of the map display casts soft shadows on the stone walls of the Targaryen base, but neither of you pays attention to it.

"I know," you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The calm acceptance in your tone belies the weight of the conversation.

Paul stares at the holographic projection, but his mind is clearly elsewhere. "I dream of them," he continues after a pause, his voice distant, as though he’s trying to make sense of the fragments that flit through his mind. "A brother and a sister. I see them sometimes, as if they’ve already lived. It’s strange... in another life, they would be something else to me entirely."

You turn your gaze toward him, studying the lines of thought etched into his face. There’s an understanding between the two of you—one born from shared experiences of visions, dreams, and glimpses of a future that might never come to pass. You’ve felt it too, the pull of a destiny that you’ve long learned to accept.

"I dreamt of them once as well," you admit. The memory of that fleeting vision stirs inside you, like an echo from another time. "But my dreams aren’t like yours."

Paul shifts slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to grasp something that remains just out of reach. "The Bene Gesserit always said my dreams were tied to their plans. But I see things they don’t. Paths they never considered." His voice trails off, and for a moment, it’s as though the two of you are standing at the crossroads of fate, caught between what is and what might be.

You nod slowly, understanding the complexity of his burden. You’ve always known the weight that comes with having visions, but Paul’s are unique—crafted by powers beyond anything you’ve encountered. It makes you wonder how much of this world is already written, and how much is still yours to shape.

Before either of you can speak again, Aelor strides into the room, his expression sharp with urgency. "The Harkonnens," he begins, his voice tight. "They seem very interested in the system of caverns not far from here."

You look up at him, immediately alert. "What kind of interest?"

"They've been surveying the area," Aelor replies. "It's close enough to the base that it’s making Maelor uneasy. We’re going to investigate."

You straighten, preparing to join them without hesitation. "Then I’m coming with you."

But Aelor shakes his head, his gaze firm. "No, you’re not. It's too dangerous, especially now. You need to stay here."

Your jaw tightens, irritation flaring at his overprotectiveness. "I'm not some helpless bystander. I can handle myself."

"I know you can," Aelor says, his tone softening, "but you have other things to think about now. You can't take unnecessary risks, especially with the child coming."

The weight of his words settles over you, though it’s not enough to quell the fire in your chest. You know he’s right—part of you understands that your role is shifting, that there are bigger responsibilities to consider. But another part of you, the part that grew up leading skirmishes with dragons, rebels against the idea of staying behind while others head into danger.

Paul watches the exchange quietly, sensing the tension between you and Aelor. His eyes flicker to you, sympathy in his gaze, though he says nothing.

Aelor steps forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Stay here," he says, quieter now. "We’ll handle it. We can’t afford to lose you, not now."

You nod reluctantly, knowing that arguing won’t change his mind. Aelor turns and heads toward the exit, leaving you and Paul in the dimly lit room, the tension still simmering.

"I wonder what they’re really after," Paul muses aloud, breaking the silence. He glances toward the map display, his thoughts shifting back to the broader conflict. "It’s never just about territory with the Harkonnens."

"No," you agree, your gaze following the same path. "It's always more than it seems."

...

The caverns beneath the Harkonnen control were dim and humid, the air thick with the stench of sweat and damp rock. Feyde-Rautha Harkonnen paced restlessly at the mouth of the cavern, his eyes flicking toward the deeper shadows as his men prepared for their next move. His mind was ablaze with thoughts of revenge, power, and glory. Arrakis was theirs to reclaim.

And then she appeared.

A flicker of red from the shadows caught his eye, and Feyde’s hand instinctively went to the blade at his hip. The Red Woman stepped into the cavern, her scarlet robes flowing like molten fire as she moved with a grace that seemed out of place in such a bleak and grim setting. Feyde’s men, hardened as they were, shifted uneasily. She had been in Emperor Shaddam’s custody, in the hands of the Sisterhood, and now she stood before them—free.

Feyde’s eyes narrowed. "You’re supposed to be in chains, priestess. How did you manage to slip away from the Emperor’s clutches?"

The Red Woman, her eyes glowing faintly with a strange fire, met his gaze without fear. "Chains are for those who serve without purpose. And I serve a power greater than any emperor or sisterhood."

Feyde sneered, stepping forward, his amusement barely contained. "A power greater than the Emperor? The Sardaukar will crush your Lord of Light as easily as they would crush a worm under their heel."

Her lips curled into a slight smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. "You’re dabbling in forces you don’t understand, Fayde Harkonnen. Your ambition blinds you. If your House does not turn away from this path, it will crumble into the dust of forgotten histories."

Feyde laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern. "Arrakis is ours. Shaddam was a fool to hand it to the Duke, even as part of his elaborate trap. We’ll reclaim it soon enough, and no mystic flames or prophecies will stop us."

The Red Woman’s eyes darkened, her voice taking on a weight that chilled the air around her. "The power of the spice... its time is coming to an end. No matter how much the old Houses cling to it, no matter how tightly the Guild tries to bind it to their will, its influence is fading. Something else is rising—something you cannot control. The currency of the universe will no longer be melange."

Feyde’s amusement soured into irritation, his patience wearing thin. He wasn’t one to waste time on mystical ramblings. "Enough," he snapped. "You’re nothing but a madwoman preaching doom and gloom. Kill her."

His men surged forward, weapons raised, eager to carry out the order. But the Red Woman didn’t flinch. She raised her hands, and in an instant, the cavern lit up with flames, swirling around her like a protective barrier. The heat was intense, pushing the soldiers back, their skin singed as the flames grew hotter.

"You will not see me die by your hands," she said calmly, her voice echoing through the chamber. "But know this, Feyde. Your time is running out."

Before Feyde could react, the flames roared higher, swallowing her figure completely. When they died down moments later, she was gone—vanished into thin air. The cavern was left in silence, save for the crackling embers that still clung to the rocky walls.

Feyde’s frustration boiled over, his face twisting into a snarl. He slammed his fist into the nearest rock wall, cursing under his breath. "Get back to work," he barked at his men. "We proceed as planned. I don’t care what that witch says—Arrakis will be ours again. The spice will continue to flow, and I’ll see to it personally."

As his soldiers scrambled to obey, Feyde turned his gaze toward the cavern's exit, his mind racing with thoughts of the Red Woman’s cryptic warning. He didn’t believe in her prophecies or her fiery theatrics, but something about her words left a nagging unease in the back of his mind.

Determined to shake it off, Feyde steeled himself, his jaw clenched with renewed focus. He would prove her wrong. The Harkonnens had always survived, always risen from the ashes of every defeat.

And this time would be no different.

[gredandforgeweatherby]

All the Way Across the Country?

Ben Gross x reader

WC: 825 Warnings: None, just fluff. Nothing romantic between Devi and Ben has happened for the sake of this fic (dw I'm team Benvi 100% :)) I do not own any of the dialogue from Never Have I Ever, I am just writing about Ben Gross because no one else will, please do not sue me.

A/N: This is not proofread, and the ending kinda sucks, but I really couldn't figure out how to end it. I hope you still enjoy <3

It was the night before you and all your friends left for college. Last night, you, Fabiola, and Eleanor had what was supposed to be your last hurrah, but Devi's grandmother invited you guys to her wedding the next night. She actually invited all of Devi's friends. You were excited you were going to have one last night with your friends before everyone left, though there was one person missing: Ben.

Ben left for an internship in New York right after graduation, and while you were happy that he got the opportunity, you wished you had been able to see him again before he left.

While Devi and Ben's relationship was based on academic validation and rivalry, your and Ben's relationship differed. You and Ben were friendly with each other through Devi and Ben's rivalry, (sometimes bothering Devi in the process. "You're supposed to be my right-hand girl not canoodling with my nemesis!). Though Devi and Ben often time butt heads, that somehow never got in between your and Ben's friendship. Eventually, your feeling turned into more than platonic, and you could never tell if Ben felt the same. The two of you would kiss, but neither of you would bring it up ever again. You because you were afraid of ruining the friendship and making it awkward, and he because he was afraid you would reject him.

The two of you had never been great at talking about your feelings.

¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤

You and all your friends, sans Devi, were sitting at a table playing a game of never have I ever.

Alright, never have I ever hooked up in my bestie's bed." Eleanor said, her gaze directed at Fabiola.

She and Fabiola met each other's gaze, and Fabiola's mouth hung wide open, a look of faux betrayal on her face.

"Fabiola you better pick up that damn cup," Eleanor said, her eyes narrowed at the girl in question.

Fabiola obliged.

Everyone gasped in surprise while you spoke up.

"Woah, woah, woah, whose bed?" You questioned, hoping that your name didn't fall from her mouth.

"Remember that party Devi had where she two-timed Paxton and he got hit by a car and his swimming career was over?" Fabiola questioned.

Chuckling a bit, you nodded. "Yup, everyone remembers that. How could you not?"

"Me and Eve had a make-out session on her bed."

Yours, Aneesa's, and Paxton's mouths dropped in surprise, while Eleanor and Trent looked at each other excitedly.

"Wow."

"Damn."

"You think she'd be mad if she found out?" Fabiola questioned.

"Well, I guess I should also drink," Trent spoke up. Paxton questioned why.

"I definitely had a couple of solo seshes on your futon." This, once again, made everyone gasp in surprise (and probably a bit of disgust).

While Trent and Paxton were talking about Trent's "solo seshes", Devi came over to you.

"Hey Y/N, I need your help with something in my room."

Thinking it was another way for your friends to sneak alcohol like you, Fab, Eleanor, and Devi did earlier, you didn't question it. You followed her to her room while she was talking nonsense the whole time. As the two of you were rounding the corner to her room, you felt her hands on your back give you a push into her room. Confused, you turned around to question her when you noticed someone in there.

"Ben?" You questioned. "What are you doing here?"

He was standing by Devi's window in a sweatshirt and jeans looking a bit bewildered.

"Uh, yeah, it's weird," he began, " Uh, well, I was in New York, and Devi mentioned that her pati invited all of us to her wedding and all of a sudden, I got this feeling that I needed to tell you that I... like you."

You chuckled lightly. "You flew all across the country to tell me you like me?"

"Well, yeah. Uh," he seemed conflicted with what to say next. "Actually," he chuckled, "I think I love you, y/n."

You stood there, not quite believing this was happening. "What?" You breathed out.

"I love you."

Hearing those words fall from his mouth made you realize this was real. This was Ben Gross, who hoped on a cross-country flight the night before you left for school to tell you he loved you.

"I love you too Ben."

The two of you smiled at each other before he suggested you guys left. You grabbed your things, (that were luckily in Devi's house and not in the tent,) and guided him to your car, driving to his house. The two of you made it to his room before your lips met.

¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤•¤

You and Ben spent the night together, deciding to try and date during the semester. You were both going to be in New York-- him obviously at Columbia and you at Cornell, you guys could totally make it work.

And the two of you certainly did.

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology: Me & My Dog

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

Jake Kiszka x f!reader and Josh Kiszka x f!reader

A/N: This will be at least three parts! This first part is more about Josh and the reader, the second will be more Jake and then we will see with part 3 what is to happen. Please let me know what you think with comments and reblogs and messages to my inbox!! I want to talk about this bc I have been so excited to share it!!

Word Count: 5.4k | Warnings: alcohol consumption, strong language, allusions to sex - minor descriptions of sex but not descriptive smut (still 18+!!), dubious comprehension of angel/demon mythology, like this is fiction fr so if it does not make sense i am sorry but idc (but am also open to suggestions thx)

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Part 1: My & My Dog

When being told to stir up some trouble on Earth, Y/N was more annoyed that she had to go back at all than excited that she was moving up in the ranks. Afterall, she’d only died 50 years ago. It was already time to go back? She thought she had eternity down here. 

From what she’d heard from other members of the underworld, it’d just gotten worse since she’d left. Prior to 1976 had been a riot for her (1976 was not her favorite, but dying usually wasn’t in people’s top ten greatest moments), but now it sounds worse than Hell itself.  

Still, like a good little demon soldier, she trudged through the dim back rooms to find the dull office that would provide her with the necessary documents to take a corporeal form and inhabit the physical sphere for an extended period of time. 

“Can I bring my dog?” She asks, kicking at a piece of garbage on the floor. It littered the entire ground around her feet. 

“Dog?” The servant of hell inquired. 

“Chupacabra,” She corrects.

“Sure,” Their eyes raise from filling out the paperwork to the little animal beside her. “Extra form you need to both sign. Says he’ll suck the blood of at least five animals per earthly week while he’s there. We don’t do ESAs here.”  

“Fab,” She sighed in relief and scratched behind the ears of her dog that she had re-encountered shortly after arriving in Hell. 

The chupacabra placed his paw in some mysterious blood that had formed in the pewter catch-all dish sitting beside the papers and then pushed it onto the form. Signed, sealed and soon to be delivered. They were getting out of Hell. 

-

When she materialized on Earth, she wasn’t sure where she was exactly. The home office didn’t give that information, you just had to figure it out yourself. She had been hoping for her hometown of Los Angeles or another major city center she’d never been to before. Maybe London or Tokyo would be a fun change of pace. 

After walking what felt like 20 miles, but was probably half of that given that she wasn’t used to physical legs anymore, she came upon a sign as to where she was. A mural to be exact. 

It had only been woods and fields for the first half, but then there were more buildings. Coffee shops, bagel shops and something that was called a ‘Vape’ shops. Everything advertised themselves as historic music sites. But it wasn’t until 1504 Demonbreun St. that she fully ascertained she was in the heart of Nashville, Tennessee. 

“Welcome to Nashville”

“Fuck yeah,” She smiled. A friend back in the day had been from here and told her about it a few times. It wasn’t a major capital city or home, but it was a city alright. And where there was nightlife, she was sure there could be trouble. 

She spent the rest of the day checking around her surroundings. Finding the place Hell had given her to lodge in. It wasn’t much but she remembered earthly delights and planned to spruce it up, give it a vibe. She wrote a note on the wall with a deep red pen she had brought with her a list of items she needed. Couch, rug, bed, posters, an electric guitar and lots of wine and clothes. The ink dripped down the wall and she smiled, swiping at it and placing it to her lips. 

She passed the rest of the daylight hours with great displeasure for the living people around her who barely seemed to notice her. Not that she looked any different than them, but it just bothered her that no one was as friendly as when she’d last been here. No one bothered to say ‘hello’, all they did was stare or talk into their rectangular devices she had realized were portable telephones half way through the day. 

Broadway St. seemed to be the place Y/N thought she’d find the most possible trouble. It was lit up like the Sunset and if it weren’t for all the horribly dressed people surrounding her, she would’ve felt right at home. 

At one of the bars, she got free shots from the bartender with a flash of her eyes. From the regular dark brown iris, they flashed an entire eternal glassy black. He smiled dreamily in the abyss and walked away after she winked at him. She swung back the shots and made her way to the dance floor. 

Raising her hands above her head, she began to dance. Her black lace dress hugged her curves and shifted with her. Her silver jewelry glinted dangerously as she moved. The lights in the bar shifted to stay red instead of the flashing multi-colors that had bothered her when she entered. She moved her hips to the music and slowly it transformed from a poppy song she didn’t know to Led Zeppelin. 

Robert Plant’s voice got everyone dancing the way they should and the vapes transformed into cigarettes and she smiled to herself feeling alive for the first time in a long time. Maybe being back wasn’t so bad. She drank more and danced more and saw people getting drunk and making out in corners and thought debauchery worked as trouble. Job done for the day. 

She relaxed into the sway of the music, writhing around like a snake as her skin grew dewey with perspiration. A tug at her arm brought her out of her euphoric state. All night she had made sure no one would bother her, but whoever this was didn’t seem to follow her rules. 

She opened her eyes, fully black once more as she stared at who was holding her wrist. She tugged back but his hold was secure. He pulled her to the side of the dancefloor, a space conveniently opening up. 

“Get your hands off me! What the fuck, man?”

“You can’t be here,” He spoke calmly. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. He had on a white plain t-shirt and light wash jeans, with opalescent beads hanging around his neck. His eyes were an oddly familiar light brown. His hair was shaved on the sides, creating a sort of mullet that she mildly appreciated if he hadn’t been so rude as to pull her away from her fun. That mullet exposed the golden earrings in his pointy ears. 

There was something different about him. None of it was in his physical form but she felt it, vibrating and extending around him. As if he had invisible light passing around and through him even in the dark dingy bar lighting. 

“Says who?” She finally tugged her arm free from his hold and crossed her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts up in the process. 

His eyes flicker to the movement before pressing his lips into a thin line “Says me.” 

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “And you are?” 

“Joshua. I protect this town," he says. He wrings his hands around the gold bracelets on his wrists. “You can’t come into these bars and just mess with everything about them. It’s wrong.” 

“Yes I can, Josh,” She smirks. “I’m a demon as you clearly already can tell. I can do whatever I want.” 

“Oh my God,” Josh sighs, exasperated already. “There’s already a demon here.” He knew the other one quite well and was at least able to keep him in check. A newcomer would mean more work. 

She shrugged. “Not my problem, angel. Hell sent me up here, guess they’re not happy with the other one’s performance.” 

She moved to go back to the bar for another drink when Josh looked like he was a million miles away. He’d really killed her buzz. Josh’s mentioning of another demon made her stop and ask as an afterthought: “What’s this other demon’s name?” 

“Jacob–er, uh, Jake,” Josh corrects himself. He hadn’t gone by Jacob since, well, since before, even if Josh wished he could just call him Jacob. 

“Groovy.” Her smile is wicked, her lips painted a red so deep it resembled dried blood. “Displeasure meeting you, angel. Come find me if you ever want to have a real good time.” She kissed his cheek before disappearing behind a group of people. 

-

Two weeks later, Y/N was seated on a bench in the park with her legs kicked up. She looked like she was a dead body–which more or less, she was, but the way she was sitting was unusual for someone who was supposedly alive. Her dog was perched unnaturally along the backrest, soaking in the sun he had missed. They looked out of place. 

She had come out in the midday to see if she could start any fights in the park. She’d quickly learned that malfunctions with their little handheld phones really upset the modern humans so she liked to mess with wifi and electrical connections every odd day or so just to keep up the no-good work. 

Her black RayBans covered her eyes as they surveyed the green grass for potential targets for a bit of a row. She sat as far away from the people as possible, so she had enhanced her vision as if using a zoom function. But soon something white blocked her vision. 

“Angel,” She practically growled. Her dog actually growled, sitting up. 

“Mind if I sit,” Josh asks pleasantly, eyeing the dog with caution. It looked like a normal dog, but a clip in his right ear and a strange red shimmer in his eyes made Josh think there might be something hellish about him. 

She took her feet off the bench and pushed her sunglasses up off of her face. “Finally want a taste of what you’re missing?” 

“No,” he states flatly. His eyes were still wandering between the creature and the demon. She was dressed in all black, typical. The dog was between cream and the lightest brown he’d ever seen, atypical. “Is this your dog?” 

“Yeah.” She smiles softly for the first time. Her hand goes to pet him between his ears and down his small snout. “He was waiting for me in Hell back’n the day. They made him a chupacabra for me as a ‘Welcome to Hell’ present.” 

Josh’s eyes widened in surprise. What had she done in life to receive a present in Hell? “They like you down there?” 

“Eh…I think I’m just a descendant of many a troublemaker. They knew I’d be an asset, especially when I arrived so early.” 

Her dog slipped into her lap. For a moment, he shifted as he stared at Josh. Big ruby eyes glowered at him, all his hair was gone, leaving something more resembling a pale soft dog-rat. Disturbing and wretched, nonetheless. He wrinkled his nose at Josh. 

Josh tried to smile, feeling awkward. Jake had insisted he find this demon Josh had encountered, needing more information about whether he was really in trouble or if it was procedural. Why Jake wouldn’t do it himself, Josh never got as many answers as questions he asked. 

“Do either of you have names?” 

She grinned. “Is this twenty questions? Why so interested in me?” 

“Just want to get to know my opposition,” Josh says lightly, praying for her to feel extra kind today. Afterall, she was a demon who was originally human and it was only a little while ago from what she seemed to like. He was pretty sure she’d only been down in Hell for 50-60 years, that was barely a human lifetime—and yet it was longer than hers. Far less than Jake. Maybe he could neutralize her, get her to see the bright side. 

“His name is Rune, now, but it used to be Rori.” She rubs over the dog’s hair, happy that he was softer on Earth. “He responds to both–for me. Not sure what he should be called now we’re back.” 

Josh waited patiently. The breeze was cooler than usual and looking at her, he had to assume it was her as well. She seemed far too powerful for a run-of-the-mill demon who used to be human. But she also seemed extremely unlikely to answer his questions if he got too personal. 

With her eyes uncovered, Josh watched them move around as she thought about something. It was almost like she was tracking something or doing some long form math equation in her head. Like she didn’t know what her name was and was looking for the answer. 

“Mine…well, now you can call me Sal.” She winks and Josh straightens in his seat, feeling strange. “Gonna write about me in your diary now, Joshua?” 

Josh pretends to laugh with a clipped “ha ha.” She smirked again, sliding closer to Josh on the bench. Rori grew annoyed and hopped off her lap, slinking off to climb a tree in hopes of finding a squirrel. Sal extended a delicate hand to Josh’s shoulder, beginning to play with the fabric of his shirt. He smiled tightly, not having anywhere to go if he wanted more answers. 

“You said you arrived early?” Josh’s voice is high as he feels her touch moving down his arm. Thankfully, being an angel kept him from feeling her entire influence, but her physical touch was enough to feel something…unholy. He didn’t want to imagine her abilities on mortals. “What did you mean?” 

“You’re fun,” She beamed. “If I show you some tricks I picked up in Hell, will you show me something?” 

“It depends what you want to see,” Josh tries to be diplomatic. 

Her head throws back in laughter. “Not that. No, I want you to want me to see that.” Her hand wanders to his wrist and toys with the bracelet before slinking to his thigh. Her voice was low and sultry, lips pressed to his ear. “Desperately.” 

Josh was starting to feel like he might have to leave. His breathing had turned shallow and he couldn’t stop staring at the carnelian stone hanging between her breasts. Her hand’s touch left him and she laughed again bringing him out of his reverie. 

“Hell, you’re pretty cute…I was a 27 club member.” She shrugged, turning away from Josh to stare out at the people again. “Had my heyday in the late 60s/early 70s and went out the same way I lived. Fast.” 

Josh thought about the 60s and the 70s. He’d admit those decades were a bit of a guilty pleasure for him. Nashville had been fun, not as crowded. He watched her again, seeing her eyes narrow looking at the couples and the groups of friends. 

“You weren’t from here?” 

“LA. Broadway’s kinda like the Sunset Strip, just a bit more loser-y…NashVegas, just like Liv said.” 

Josh was about to protest, but refrained, letting her reminisce. She did miss her friends from back then. They’d gotten up to so much trouble. Sometimes too much. 

“Best of times, worst of times kind of thing y’a dig?” She tapped the heel of her boot like she was trying to shake off something unpleasant. “Just glad I had my dog for most of the time. He followed me everywhere and everyone’d let ‘im in because he was such a doll. Died ‘bout three years ‘fore me.”

The more she spoke the more her accent of a bygone era of California popped up. Josh couldn’t deny how sweet she sounded when she spoke about that thing, demonic as the pair of them were. 

“How long’ve you’ve been up–er, down here?” She asked, barely realizing she had to correct for him. 

Josh cast his eyes to the sky, thinking. “Since the beginning. That’s like, 8000 human years, I believe.” 

“Get the fuck outta town!” She exclaimed, jumping in her seat to face him. Her eyes were alight with hellfire. “You’re a proper angel then?” 

Josh chuckled. “They don’t really take new hires upstairs, I’m afraid. Only very special occasions. It doesn’t happen much these days.” 

She regarded him for a moment, inventorizing him again now that she deemed him far more interesting than before. “Yeah, I was on a special list when I came down. Only a few others in my line, everyone else had to wait in this huge waiting room. It was…repulsive and I’ve been in the alley behind the Whisky.” 

Josh tilted his head, looking over her once more. He felt like he should know her, but he couldn’t understand from where. She looked so familiar. Her hair seemed to shift every so often and he couldn’t be sure if it was the light or mood dependent. He didn’t prod at her mentioning the special treatment in Hell, didn’t want to alert her to the fact, that from what he knew, that was extremely rare.

“Have you told your demon friend about me yet?” She asked.

“He’s not my friend,” Josh responds automatically. 

Her eyebrows raise as she turns her head back to him, scanning him for understanding. A killer upon its prey. 

“Secret lover?” She guesses. 

Josh can’t hide his face of disgust. “Jesus! No!”

“Homophobic?” She asks with a look of distaste. Not being for the gays was so not groovy. Half the musicians she hung out with back in the day were gay. And she wasn’t one for choosing when it came to sexuality. 

“No!” Josh cries. “I am more than an ally to that cause, not that angels really have sexualities…it’s just.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck confusion. “He was, is–I don’t know, my twin.” 

“Oh!” She beams, eyes once again lighting up in intrigue. She enjoyed learning things, it helped for using it against people at the end of the day. “So he’s also a proper demon. Fell and all that.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He sounded pained, as if he was reliving the entire thing. 

“Wow…” She blows out a breath. “That must be funky.” 

She continued when Josh said nothing. “Y’know ‘cause he’s your brother but also he’s–” She finished her statement by sticking her pointer fingers through her hair and wiggling them around. 

“Yes, I am aware.” Josh shakes his head. 

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, revealing her stomach below the flowy lace top she was wearing. “Great catch up, I guess, angel. Wanna trade tricks later? I’ve already worked through most of the main bars here and I’m getting bored.” Nothing was keeping her interest, since every place she had to transform into her liking. 

“You want to hang out with me? You want to hang out with an angel?” 

She grinned, turning around herself once before dropping her arms and stalking back towards Josh, standing directly in front of him. She leaned over him, watching him straighten his neck and swallow thickly. His eyes flickered from her face to the carnelian again. 

“Everyone else is too easy around here. I need a challenge.” Her lips were right in front of his. “You seem like the perfect remedy for a wayward soul like me.” 

-

Josh wasn’t exactly sure why he agreed to meet the demon at some speakeasy she said she needed to try. He wasn’t fully sold on calling her ‘Sal’, something about it felt off to him. She didn’t even really seem to care for it either. Jake, he knew, was vehement that he wished to be called Jake. 

Jake was probably why he had come to the back door of a pizza joint that was actually the door to the underground speakeasy. He’d asked for more information on her. When Josh had inquired why Jake couldn’t just do it himself, his twin finally fessed up that he was actually not currently in Nashville at all. Leaving the heavy lifting to Josh, like always. 

Begrudgingly, Josh entered another bar with plans to meet a demon. Heaven forgive him. It was smokey inside the brick-walled cavern. Small candles lit the tabletops and narrow bar top. A small dance floor was packed as people danced slowly to a jazz band. In the corner of the room, he saw her hair almost glowing in the dark and he made his way over. 

She was dressed in a black pantsuit, with no undershirt, just a black lace bra and her same necklace. Rori wasn’t present, from what Josh could see, but based on their conversation earlier he had a feeling the demon dog was around, lurking. 

She groaned when she saw what Josh was wearing. 

“Angel, man, do you have any other clothes besides that?” She shook her head in disappointment. 

“Of course I do,” Josh huffed, looking down at his clothes not understanding what was wrong with them. 

“Change.”

“I can’t perform miracles just to change my outfit. That’s wrong.” 

“That’s wrong, it’s wrong,” She parrots what she thought was becoming Josh’s mantra. “God, Heaven sounds so stifling.” She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers with impatience.

In an instant, Josh was dressed in a red velvet jumpsuit with sequins around the neckline. His arms were on full display, muscles bulging while the velvet hugged his torso and lengthened his height. He smooths at his hair and feels something come off his skin. On his hand, he sees glitter. He looks at her again and then down at his new clothes. She was eyeing the bulge veering to his right thigh. 

“Much better.” She grins. 

Josh rolls his hand in front of him quickly, almost like a benediction, and once again his outfit has changed. Now, he was in a cream and grey jumpsuit that was far less flashy of his own with his favorite sigil emblazoned on the chest. He left the glitter and sat down. 

Her unamused look makes Josh feel a little hot with shame. 

“A little miracle to make sure I don’t look like a demon can be forgiven.” 

“You looked foxy but whatever.” She rolls her eyes and flicks a hand at the table, producing a bottle of red wine for both of them. “You drink, surely. C’mon, don’t act like your demon brother hasn’t corrupted a few of those precious angel feathers.” 

Josh can’t help the smile that falls over his face. Not sure what was so endearing about her at this moment. The romantic jazz might have something to do with it. He loved jazz. He takes the drink gratefully and they sip in companionable silence. She was subdued. 

With one bottle down, they start a second and this is when she offers to show Josh a trick if he’ll show her something again. He shrugs in compliance, feeling well on his way to drunk. 

“But won’t the other people in here see?” He adds. 

“No, they all know to mind their own business. Plus, it’s dark in here.” She winks and suddenly Josh is staring at only her head. 

He can seriously only see her head and neck. She moves closer to him and now Josh is certain, she’s made her body disappear. She was a dishonest-to-god floating head. Her head glowed gold for a moment as she twirled in a complete 360 to really show herself off. Josh’s eyes were as wide as possible trying not to cry out in amazement. Then the rest of her body reappeared, straddling Josh’s lap. With her arms draped over his shoulder, her all black soulless eyes gazed into Josh’s, practically paralyzing him with her fiery warmth and intensity. 

“So what do you think, angel?” 

“I, uh,” Josh stuttered. He placed his hands firmly on her hips and moved her off of him. “That’s impressive. What’s it good for?” 

“S just fun,” She shrugged, undetered by Josh removing her from his lap. “Let’s dance and then you can show me your wings or something.” 

Josh didn’t have time to protest, as she grabbed his wrist with one hand and their second bottle of pinot noir in the other. 

She took a swig before letting it float in the air beside them. Her body swiveled around the dance floor, placing herself in Josh’s arms as he swayed respectfully. She sighed and sunk into the movement, drinking from the bottle every so often. When the song changed, she turned to face Josh, handing the wine to him. He drank obediently, which she felt was a triumph. 

Hands draped over his shoulders again, she pressed her body against his. He was strong, she could feel his toned stomach. Her regular eyes met his and she tipped her nose against his. He looked stoicly back at her, determined to be friendly but not fall into the trap she was so clearly laying for him. 

“You’ve got so many defenses up,” She whispers. “Why not do what you want for once? Loosen up. Indulge.” 

Josh smiles down at her and moves his lips to her ear. Polite as ever, he speaks soothingly. “I am having a lovely time with you, Sal.”

She groans, pressing his hands to her hips again, where the curve of her ass was. “I can gaurantee you’ve never had what I’m offering you…” 

Josh smiles knowingly, unconvinced. “I’m afraid I’m above your temptations. Is seduction your main area of expertise?” 

She glares at him, but there’s a glint in her eye. She loved the chase. The difficulty. 

“Debauchery in general, but with how many people wanted to have sex with me in my first life I have a specialization in seduction and desire.” 

He shrugs, moving his hands to a respectful place on her waist. His touch is light, but she feels the pressure of his thumbs pushing at the exposed skin. She smirks and snakes her lips up to his ear. 

The gold hoop glints and she flicks her tongue over it. “I could just show you what you’re missing. If you’d allow me to put it in your mind, we wouldn’t actually do it. You’d be in complete control. Halo intact. C’mon just a few images…it’ll be informative.” 

Josh sighs as the tug of her teeth on his earring. She was bad. Terribly good at her job. He understood why she was here. Jake wasn’t even in town. Damn him. If he did his job a little better, Josh wouldn’t be contemplating allowing a demon into even a small recess of his mind. But, Jesus, did he want to just see it. If it wasn’t real, it wasn’t really a sin to indulge. 

She stares at him, waiting for his response. Her hands run over his shoulders and chest. The music swells and Josh’s hands tighten on her waist as he looks up to the ceiling, praying for forgiveness. 

“For educational purposes,” He starts and she grins. “I will allow you to show me how you do your job. So that I may be able to thwart your wrongdoings better.” 

“It’s just a little sex,” She licks her lips. “Igniting passion in people makes more babies for you to teach heavenly values or whatever. God likes sex, Josh.” Her voice is sickening, it was like she was dripping in a delicious scent that Josh can’t get out of his head. Twisting his values and her intentions into something evil that somehow made wicked sense.

He’s been careful to only open up a small piece he knows he can close, but he almost loses his footing when he finally feels her stinging lips on his. She licks into his mouth and he’s about to protest before the images begin to flow through his mind. 

‘Good thing your brother doesn’t have to transfer information like this, huh?’ Sal says within Josh’s mind. 

Guiltily, he feels himself laughing. Though his physical body is still locking lips with her. 

The room she brings him to in his mind is dark, a red lamp in the corner where two bodies are rolling around. Sighs of ecstasy filling his ears. The smell of sex hanging in his nose.

‘You’re really missing out, angel. Could show you the best thing life, and death, has to offer.’ Her voice is softer in his mind. 

The scene changes. He’s staring up at her above him. Her hips are working over him steadily as her naked breasts bounce in front of him, her necklace is the glowing light now. Her voice is sinful as she moans praises for Josh. How good he feels, how big he is, how strong he is. The scene changes and he’s driving into her with her legs over his shoulders, she’s smiling sweetly up at him with her mouth open, repeating his name like a prayer. It shifts and she’s pressed face down in the grey silk pillows, her body spread out for him as he grunts and growls, thrusting ceremoniously into her as she screams for him to keep going. It’s melodic, every bodily sound and the scene of their physical bodies uniting is hypnotic. Like it was pre-ordained that he would fit so well inside her. He feels euphoric as it shifts once more. She is back on top, his hips press up into her as she grinds down. Their faces are pressed together as Josh holds her body close to him. Arms enveloping her fragile frame. The room is quiet as they are pressed skin to skin, her lips meeting his gently. Sharp gasps escape their trembling lips.

‘Okay, enough,’ Josh pushes away from the scene, feeling both aroused and confused. 

In the speakeasy, she pulls back from the kiss with a wipe of her lips. She runs her hands through her hair as she watches Josh. She had shown him every one of his fantasies, placing herself at the center of them. They weren’t particularly raunchy, it was all about connection to him and for once she didn’t tease. 

“I like you, Joshua,” She says, truthfully, allowing him to pull their bodies a little apart. 

He was flustered and confused and embarrassed, but he also didn’t want to run. She had kept her word, shown him a few things and left. He didn’t fully understand the words she had just spoken.

He shakes his head, an awkward smile on his lips there on accident, and she stares at him wistfully. 

“I haven’t had someone in my mind in a very long time.” 

“It’s okay,” She soothes. “You really are an angel. Maybe on this earthly plane for too long since you clearly have carnal desires, but they were sweet. Every man’s mind I’ve looked into had vile and cruel desires…” She paused, looking past Josh. “Even in my first life, all the men I knew wanted to hurt the women they supposedly loved.” 

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in shock. 

“The closest you got to dirty was having me in do–”

“Okay!” Josh cut her off. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” He turned and walked swiftly through the crowd, parting easily for him–definitely not a misuse of his miracles. 

“Fine,” She grinned wickedly and whistled for Rori, sauntering after Josh. 

Back on the street, it could’ve been daytime with all the lights compared to the speakeasy. She squinted her eyes in distaste, thriving in the dark and wishing she had brought her sunglasses.

Josh was turned away from her so she tapped on his shoulder, wanting his attention. Wanting to see him again. He turned slowly and the look on his cherubic face was troubled. She frowned, about to ask what got his wings in a twist. 

A shadow stepped into Josh’s light. His hair was long and messy, in need of a wash. His silver jewelry shined heavy on his tanned chest. His black button up was almost completely open exposing his torso and he held a wide-brimmed black hat loosely in one hand and a guitar case more carefully in the other. His eyes flashed yellow when he spotted Y/N.  

She straightened her posture under his gaze and gave him a defiant look. Rori growled, but stayed behind her legs. 

Jake ran his tongue over his bottom lip, taking in the woman shaped devil before him. “You must be the new demon in town.” 

She tilted her head at him and looked between Josh and Jake. “And you must be your brother’s keeper.” 

He took a menacing step closer, narrowing his eyes at his angel of a brother before returning his gaze to her. “Something like that. Now, farewell…or don’t, I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to speak again but no sound came out. 

His eyes flashed again as he turned on his heel and said tersely, a command, “Josh.”

The pair disappeared into fog that had appeared as suddenly as the older demon along the nighttime sidewalk and then she watched it dissipate moments later, leaving no trace of the creatures. The men. The angel and the demon.

-

to be continued... join the taglist

[adrianasunderworld]

So I was thinking of a HoM!AU rewrite of that episode where Pete tries to shut down the club by tricking the staff into eating poisoned apples (only these apples only put you to sleep instead of killing you).

In this version he gets the apples from a vault or forbidden archive or somewhere where Mickey keeps the villainous stuff locked up because there is no way Queen Grimhilde would give Pete something dangerous if it could possibly get to Yuu since he doesn’t exactly hide his dislike of her.

If I recall correctly, Pluto was also punished because Figaro made it look like he misbehaved or something. Well, I felt really bad that no one was willing to hear him out, considering he’s usually so responsible despite his mischievous and vindictive nature, so there would be a scene where Yuu tries to convince Mickey and Minnie that Pluto shouldn’t be punished so hardly and it was only a small mistake so he should be given a special chance to make up for it. She tells Pluto that he’s a good boy and she’s sure that everyone will come around after a while before she’s called away to a table. Pluto then goes and discovers Pete sneaking into the club with a basket of apples but he gets kidnapped by the cat before he could warn everyone.

And the story goes the way you’d expect except Pete just leaves the apples as ‘gifts’ for everyone like he did for Mickey and Minnie because his disguise was way too obvious and Yuu was just hanging around the princess table so she’d be able to tell that Pete was an imposter just like Goofy did. Everyone, including Yuu, takes a bite from the apple and it’s up to Pluto to save everyone from the sleeping potion.

Pluto rallies all of the Disney dogs to help him with the club as they try to figure out how to help everyone. Grim and him keep on butting heads with what to do but the fire cat reluctantly ends up sulking in the sidelines like Figaro (though he just sits in the staff room, guarding Yuu’s sleeping form) as he grumbles about how dogs aren’t even half as magnificent as The Great Grim whilst he watches the dogs put on their performance and Pluto put on cartoons that star him.

Luckily though, Snow White was able to piece together what happened and she comes to tell Pluto and Grim that everyone can be woken up with a kiss so Pluto goes around giving kisses to the Fab Five and Grim is the one to wake Yuu because no one is going to kiss his henchman except him! Don’t worry, though, after she’s saved, she gives him the biggest hug and tells him how proud she is of him as Pluto licks all over her smiling face.

It all ends with Pete getting rewarded for saving the day (and Grim getting an extra can of tuna even though he did literally nothing) and even our sweet and loving heroine, Yuu, who forgave every wrongdoing the overblot boys had done against her, can’t help but smile when Pluto and the dogs start chasing a terrified Pete out of the club. She also ends up in a dogpile of the remaining dalmatian puppies that didn’t join in on Pluto’s revenge as she begs persuades the villains not to go after Pete on her behalf (she completely forgot about the princes, princesses and the other characters who were not happy with what Pete did to their favourite sister/daughter/niece waitress)

Grim won't admit that he was scared when Yuu wouldn't wake up. But she knows, and shes thankful to him for guarding her while she was knocked out.

Meanwhile Pete is on everyone's shit list, especially Queen Grimhilde because how dare he use her apples? On Yuu of all people! Unacceptable.

[stardusthuntress]

EnigmaTech - Ch. 1

My Tech lives AU! This one is based on the idea that the Bad Batch just needs someone with a clear head to follow his trail and appreciate the man for what he is truly capable of! So far I’ve stuck to one-shots and imagines, but this one felt like it needed a little more. I’m not a many-chapter-fic writer, but this one I felt like it could be divided into 3-4 solid chapters that focus on the beloved brainiac. Consider it a mini-series! 

(Part 2)

Chapter 1 - Clues 

Tech x FAB!reader (eventually, but he doesn't meet her quite yet) (just female pronouns; no use of y/n, it’s all in third person [she/her]; no physical description in this one) 

Word Count: ~2.5K

Chapter Summary: Using only what the batch has at their disposal (a lot more than they realize, thank you Tech), a new friend manages to convince them that Tech survived and is in need of their help!

TW: mentions of Tech’s demise (but he lives!); reader infodumping (self-indulgent, sorry! I really connected with Tech on this and this is how I'm coping with the writers' poor decisions at the end of s2); I am a scientist, so I wanted to bring my own experiences into this a bit, hopefully, I got all the details correct, I'm not a geneticist tho, nor a comp sci person, so please be nice if I messed up!

Author's Notes:

Somehow, this came out from Hunter’s pov. Wasn’t exactly the way I’d planned it, and this might change in the next chapter, but I needed a way to illustrate how Hunter was struggling with losing two brothers and his little girl (he's 100% a girl dad now, no going back).

Also, this is totally self-indulgent. I always write she/her/reader's pov like it's me because that's what I know how to do. If I can write from the heart it's more genuine. Hope you guys are okay with that!

I like to make references to other fandoms and stuff when I write, hope you guys don’t mind that. There’s at least 1 blink-and-you-miss it Hamilton reference, among others… hehehe!

Side note, this was not beta'd. I tend to just crank stuff out because it's on my mind, and post it asap so I can get it off my chest. Please lemme know if there are typos and if you guys like it!

Tech dividers by @/djarrex!

She joins the team shortly after Tech and Omega are stolen from them. 

When the bad situation they were in got even worse, they ran to Rex, in need of a calm, collected, commanding presence that wasn’t in the grip of fresh losses to help them figure out what to do next. Rex brought them his best analyst, an old friend who quietly helped out in secret during the war, and now helped him rescue as many brothers as he could. 

Echo knew her. They came up with a few battle strategies together when he was with the 501st. He trusted her with his life. 

Hunter, who always held his trust in reserve to begin with, now trusted even less since Cid is the reason Omega is now in the clutches of the Empire. But Rex and Echo insisted, and he knew they were in dire straights and would not be able to rescue Crosshair and Omega (and Tech) on their own, especially not while their better judgment was clouded with so much pain. 

At first, she just helps AZI patch them up and keep an eye on them as they heal. Slowly, they begin to trust her a little more. As she brings them water so they don’t have to get up, and sits with and chats with Wrecker until he falls asleep, and helps Echo with his prostheses, and always makes a point to do everything quietly to go easy on Hunter’s senses. They appreciate how her effort says she cares.

Eventually they start letting her learn them a bit more. And they learn more about her. She’s an interesting mix. She’s somewhat neurodivergent like Tech - she can go on endless infodumps and loves to learn. But she also has moments where she exhibits what Tech once described to the as “neurotypical behaviors”. She jokes with the men and flirts with them when the time is right. She gets a lot of social cues, but she does miss a fair amount too. The boys learn why Tech describes his differences like a spectrum. 

Eventually, Hunter and Echo come to the realization that she is going to need notes, detailed notes, if they are going to find their lost siblings. They have all tried giving her as many notes as they can remember, but in order to do enough research to find them, she would need to know more about Crosshair and Omega, and no one took notes on everyone quite like Tech did. They decided to give her access to Tech’s notebook, if all 3 of them agree on it. So they confront Wrecker. He’s all in. He trusts her, despite Cid’s betrayal, his determination to see the best in people has hardly wavered. Anything she needs to help them get their brother’s back is fine with Wrecker. And he trusts that if both Hunter and Echo have come to the same conclusion, then it’s worth it. 

For days she sat reading his copious notes, it kept her quiet and distant from them - Hunter was grateful for that, he needed time to adjust to her presence He wasn’t used to being around a woman so often. She brought a different way of existing to the soldier’s lifestyle he was used to. 

Her habits and mindset was somewhat new to him. 

“It may seem like an enigma now, but there are clues everywhere. You just need to know where to look and how to read them” she had said when she began her quest to learn more about their fallen brother, lost brother, and stolen sister. 

He was just grateful he, Wrecker, and Echo didn’t have to re-live the pain watching that horrible moment all over again to try to get something out of it. 

One day she begins to surface from his notes. Hunter braces, he had gotten used to her presence like that, and didn’t think he was ready for the conversations about brother’s end that were certainly coming. 

“This passage here, about Omega… it doesn’t make sense, it’s not Tech’s words” 

“What do you mean?” Hunter peers over her shoulder “that’s him alright, watched him write that one myself shortly after we picked her up.” 

“Oh, that’s not what I meant, sorry… these words are phrased exactly the way he writes everything, his speech patterns, his grammatical ticks, he IS the one that physically wrote the words down, except one thing doesn't match his pattern: the scientific errors. The one thing he knew none of you could check.” 

“So, you’re saying that Tech tricked us?” Hunter’s annoyance is apparent in his tone. His temper was on a short fuse these days, but she understood why. 

“No! I’m saying he’s employing a handy psychology tactic here. Usually used only for one of two purposes: reassurance or manipulation, but it’s definitely the former.” You hold up a hand, knowing Hunter is read to interject and snatch Tech’s datapad away from you for implying Tech would ever deceive his brother’s and harm them. “I know, you watched him write it and he would clearly never hurt any of you intentionally. A later passage about his conversation with Omega about feelings clearly conveys that quite eloquently and explains how deeply he cares for each one of you, but I think he might be trying to protect you from the full truth here, at least until he knowns what it is. As I’m sure you noticed, almost everything he writes has a double meaning, if not a triple meaning.” 

Hunter’s eyes remain narrowed, but he’s quiet, waiting for the whole story before he makes any decisions. He was protective of his little family before, and that’s multiplied tenfold since Cid’s betrayal cost them so much. 

“This passage here uses the word “perfect copy” to describe Omega, but there’s a lot inherently incorrect about that from a scientific perspective, and Tech clearly knows that. Perfection is, technically speaking, unachievable. There’s always something that deviates from the original, just a little, especially when discussing the complexities of genetics. I’m no geneticist, but his notes from when you first met Omega states that according to his scan (the results of which are included in the notes), she bears the female genetic marker - two X allosomes, and no Y - and has since she was created, which in and of itself means that she cannot be a perfect copy of Django who was male at birth, and bears the same male genetic markers that you lot do - an XY allosome pair. Which means, his statement here that she is a “perfect copy” is incorrect and he clearly knows that… at one point he even goes on to describe how she displays more neurotypical traits like you boys, rather than his neurodivergent ones… (whispered) paternal traits indeed, you’re definitely a clone of Django, you shouldn't worry about that Tech... He could be referring to her as a ‘perfect child’, however, again, perfection is inhuman and totally impossible when referring to something as complex as a sentient being, so that’s also unlikely unfortunately, as sweet as it would be for him to describe her like that… Earlier he mentioned that Nala Se told Tarkin that there were 5 ‘genetically deviant clones’ and that that must include Omega because Echo is genetically a ‘Reg’…” 

She turns to face Hunter directly, “Tech knew you were reading this over his shoulder and had access to it. He’s doing his best to describe Omega in a way that will only fortify your protection of her, not because that would ever waver - he describes several times how your paternal instincts are very attached to her, and he is both certain and grateful that nothing could change that - but he does it because she is very important to something, some big secret thing the Kaminoans are doing, though I don’t think he knows what exactly…” she trails off, searching through the datapad for more as she thinks. 

Hunter is shocked, first by her analysis, second by how easily she read Tech, and third by the fact that he, Hunter, is starting to agree with her analysis. “But if they’re ‘not his words’ as you said… then whose words are they?” 

She’s silent for a moment, as she considered this, still scrolling back through Tech’s copious notes. Hunter is struck for a moment how Tech always seemed to write like he was running out of time… 

“I think… I think, based on the way he explains how you lot describe Omega when she’s asleep and your paternal instincts ‘truly appear’ as he puts it, and,” she emerges from Tech’s notes for a moment, and Hunter is struck by how she’s just like Tech “and from my personal experience around you lot… I think he’s using your own words as a way to reassure you. Again, a handy psychology trick when used by a kind hand.” she nervously dives back into Tech’s notes. Hunter notes how she seems to make an effort to not annoy him again. 

She continues with her thought as her mind races on “all of the words he uses to describe Omega have positive connotations, there’s no hidden negativity, which means his intentions are good and not manipulative.” 

She looks up, but doesn’t totally dissociate from the datapad this time, her eyes still glossy wand swirling with thoughts. She opens her mouth like she’s poised to say more, but worry crosses her features “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again. I’ll stop. I do that a lot, I know.” 

She looks around concerned, by this point both Echo and Wrecker have joined the conversation, but none of them can look at her right now. 

Hunter is the first to speak “don’t worry, we’re used to it, Tech does the same thing all the time… or… used to anyways.” 

She tenses a bit “understood, I’m sorry for your loss, I still intend to help you as much as I can. Loss like that is cruel, let’s see if we can get him back, yeah?” 

“Yeah” Hunter relaxes a tiny bit, but feels the sadness of loss settling in. He doesn’t believe Tech could have survived that fall. 

She dives back into the notes. There’s a moment of silence. She continues to read quietly, giving the men a change to exchange quiet glances, feeling better now that they might have someone like Tech, something familiar, who can help them find their family. They find comfort in the quiet as she continues to ponder his scribblings with a knitted brow for a few moments. 

Hunter breaks the silence. “I feel almost ashamed that none of us figured that out. He’s our brother. I guess we didn’t know him as well as we thought we did.” 

“It’s not your fault, Hunter. Same goes for you two,” she pats Echo and Wrecker. “Pain of loss can be blinding. You do know him well, but your own emotions got in the way. It helps to have an outside voice to help you see through the haze of emotions. Nothing wrong with asking for help. I’m  here to help in any way that I can.” 

Her attention shifts again, and she emerges from the datapad completely this time. The hand that clutches it falls to her lap as her eyes find Hunter’s, and he’s not surprised to find a new thought sparkling in them. 

“You said Hemlock gave you back his goggles, did he not?” 

“Yeah” Hunter’s hesitancy returned 

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt any of you lot, either. I just need more information about the incident itself” 

Hunter sighs. 

“Did his goggles still have the recording device on them?”

“How did you know about that? None of us told you about that” 

“He includes many screenshots and videos from them in his notes” 

“Right. Sorry” 

“It’s okay. Hesitancy to trust is natural after being sold out like that, I understand. But please know that I just want to help you find your brothers and sister, they seem like good people, and this Tech fellow is clearly brilliant!” 

Hunter produces the goggles, recording device still attached. 

Echo chimes in “I checked for a recording from it, but scans said there’s nothing on it” 

“No backups? You’re telling me a man like Tech didn’t have backups of everything in a secure format? Is this not his backup datapad full of his notes I’m holding? I’m guessing that somewhere on here is a backup copy he fashioned himself that the Empire wouldn't be able to tamper with, one with a hidden access port - something the Imperials wouldn't know to look for since to them devices like this are usually only remotely accessed” 

She gently detaches the recording device from the goggles and inspects it carefully. The men gather around her and watch her with baited breath. Clearly the Empire did not remove it from the goggles, as there is still a fair amount of dirt on the side that had been next to the band of the goggles. As she gently brushes the dirt off, her finger nail finds the edge of something. Tracing it out, she finds a rectangle in the rubbery casing around the recording device, and gently pops it open. 

“Bingo” she whispers, as though a loud noise will shatter the moment. 

“I think I’m starting to agree with you” Hunter whispers in her ear, quiet enough that only she can hear. 

She inspects the port the silicone hatch revealed “I don’t suppose any of you lot have seen a cable that might fit this lying around somewhere?” 

They sit quietly for a moment, well aware Tech left cables for all sorts of things scattered everywhere. Each contemplating the most likely spot for Tech to keep an important cable like this, before Echo pipes up “I’m betting he’d keep a spare in his spare kit!” 

Wrecker launches out of his makeshift seat to grab the kit, and hands it to Hunter. “You better look for it, I don’t think he’d like me rummaging through his stuff… might break something…” he trails off, clearly sad. 

She pat’s the big guy on the arm and he sits back down, a little closer this time. Seeking her warmth for comfort. 

“He clearly loved and still loves you very much Wreck, even if he has his own way of showing it” 

Wrecker smiles, “thanks Y/N” 

Hunter produces several cords from Tech’s pack and holds them out. “One of these look like it might fit?” 

“Yes!”

Echo reaches for the other end of the cable “what does the other end look like?” She let’s him inspect it while she attaches the one end to the recording device. 

“This one goes here,” he plugs it into the console they sit next to. “Let’s see what he got as…. Let’s see what trail he left for us” 

As the recording comes up on the bigger screen, they all gasp. Most of the contents of the recording are going to be a difficult mess to untangle, but one thing is clear: Tech is very much ALIVE!!!

(Part 2)

Please don't steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

[blood-injections]

I would love to hear some father figure Doctor D headcannons..

FATHER FIGURE DOCTOR D. YEAH HES YES OF COURSE

He is THE dad of the zones honestly, he literally adoped cherri, he basically adoped the fab four and later down the line vaya and vamos and the girl is like literally his grandchild not literally but as the fab four are his kids so shes his grandchild plus he's like been there since the start he probably knew her mother.

Anyway I've made a post about this bit before ! Show Pony is his biological nephew ! And they grew up visiting him and being a little helper around his radio station in LA and when they hot older, theyd spend their summers staying with him, and he was always a lot funner and when Pony was like ten and realized they felt genderweird. He was way more accepting than their lameass probably transphobic parents so Dr D's their cool uncle but really they see him more as their father figure, and Ponys staying with him one summer when theyre twelve and the helium wars start and stuff shuts down and eventually he has to fight, but he's officially taken in Pony since they cant get in contact with their parents and man, Ponys twelve and its war, they don't want to go back to their sucky parents anyway. And Dr D fucking loves that kid and always hated his stuck up brother, so he never complains.

In the wars he gets really close to another older man he fights beside, a partner, they never label anything but dr d kinda loves him, but things go wrong one day and he loses his legs and his friend all at once. His partner had a son, though, one a little older than pony, and it was just the two of them and so dr d promised his partner he'd look after his son, make sure he wasnt sent to one of the orphanages popping up with bad vibes

So he takes in that 14 year old boy, who will later be known as Agent Cherri Cola, and he loves that kid like his own, because if cherris father and him had both made it through to the end of that war cherri probably would have been his own, if he got to marry that man. Cherri misses his dad like hell but he loves dr d too, and with time sees him as a father and pony as a sibling, for his dad may have raised him but it was dr d and pony that he was with when the war ended and Battery City was erected and when they settled in the desert and watched the zones as we know them be born.

And then its Jet Star, after the zones have been the zones for a while, when cherri and pony are practically grown up, 17 and 20 respectively, Jet's a sand pup, old enough to remember the wars but barely the world before it, so the deserts his home, he grew up out there with his family, on a ranch, and his family then became his crew, who was then lost in a tragic firefight, and jet was alone, drifting the zones at sixteen, its pony that brings it to light, that knows jet and says a friends been drifting since they lot their crew, asks dr d if he can stay with them for a bit at he station. And well, dr d loves his kid, so he says yeah, who is he to deny a joy that needs help.

Jet lives with them for a year, and then moves on to find their own place when they arent so lost, arent grieving their family as hard, but the thing is dr d just has this affect on people, and jet sees him as a sort of father figure too, and he sees jet as another kid, especially when he watches them go stay in the diner, and then take in ghoul, whos just a little fukin kid, ran away from the city at eleven, and somehow survived, not to mention somehow made it all the way out to zone five on foot, and with a gun but hardly being able to shoot it. And jets just seventeen still but they take in ghoul at the diner and kinda teach him the way of the zones, and theyre always over at the station, and ghouls this little kid thats lost everything but hes a fucking spitfire, he reminds dr d of cherri when he first took him in, and of course he helps out jet with teaching him stuff, and ghouls young but hes crazy good at engineering and coding and electronics and stuff, since he grew up with androids and learned early how to help them out, do repairs, hes good at that shit and he fixes some of the old equipment around the station and like seriously, dr d just adopts any kid hes known for more than like a week so hes fucking proud of this smartass kid, and then he gets to see him grow up too and he just loves them all more as time passes.

And then its the venom brothers, two years later, they're older when they get out of the city, and poison at least is already a decent fighter. Jets nineteen and ghouls thirteen and the two of them run into the brothers in a firefight, where poisons shielding their little brother with their body, just them against a group of dracs, and of course jet and ghoul see them just in time and sweep in to help. The brothers have been in the zones for just a few weeks aparently, poisons seventeen and kobras fourteen, and they still haven't found a base, so jet invites them to stay in the diner while they figure things out, who they are, how the zones work, and they agree. And since jet and ghoul already visit the station every other fucking day, now kobra and Poison are tagging along too, and they're fucking weird kids and dr d loves them. Poison and pony take a natural shine to each other and to his surprise, cherri becomes a sort of mentor for kobra, whos a real little shit by the way, like ghoul but angry instead of just.. ghoul. Lashing out because he didnt know hat else to do, but with kobra its a different kind of fire, a melting pot of discomfort with his teenage body and figuring out who he is and neurodivergency and getting overstimulated and just hating society and the world in general. Cherri teaches him how to fight with his fists, channel the rage the kid has, thins poisn cant teach him, not really, theyre protective ayway, dont want him holding a gun yet, like ghoul wasnt learning soon as jet took him in because if youre gonna have a gun, you gotta use it right, and out here, you need a gun.

Kobra kind of idolizes Dr D too, cause he's this wicked cool old dj thats like, zones famous, and talks cool and has cool stories, so hes learning to fight from cherri, and this kid thats know nothing but battery city and pills for his whole life gets to hear about the world befoe and music and the wars they only skimmed over in the schools in the city. Kobra talks all city too, kinda hates how he sounded, cause everyone could tell hes from the city from it, but listening to dr d so much, he picks up his accent, old california native/plain old like, fun radio guy kinda accent, yaknow, he says vowels weird somtimes and does the zonestalk thing where ya' smush words t'gether or slur 'em a bit, like that. And he picks up a lot of slang from dr d too.

And once again dr d watches these kids grow up, choose names, watches kobra kid learning to ride a bike and in a couple years he'll be there at his first race at the crash track and fucking cheering, because theres a ton of older joys like him and theres a ton of kids, but this is one of his. These kids chose him, really, and so he's their family, a friend, a father figure, whatever they need.

[marauder-level-chaos]

Starry Eyes Chapter One

A little fic about my marauder OC as an attempt to delve deeper into her character. I hope you like it.

Masterlist

~~~

It’s always a hard time being the only single one in a group. Not that Amethyst wasn’t happy for her friends but being a fifth wheel was turning out to be more difficult than she thought. Everybody around her seemed to have met the love of their life at 16. Hell, even her brother had managed to find somebody. As if on cue, her phone buzzed. She looked at the name flashing on her screen: Moony.

Do you wanna come watch the Gryffindor Quidditch practice with me? 

Are you going to make it weird by making unnecessarily sexual comments about my brother again?

No

Maybe

Probably

Yeah I will

Remus, it’s 6 in the fucking morning, take a cold shower

Are you coming or not? Her phone buzzed again. A snapchat from Remus.

What the fuck is that, Remus?

Incentive

To get your ass out of bed and meet me on the pitch

If you’re sending me Quidditch porn, again, take a cold shower.

For you? It’s as good as

Meth could just see Remus smirking behind his phone with that comment. Curiously, she swiped over to open the snapchat notification which turned out to be a photo of Fabian Prewett, a chaser on the team. Judging by his uniform and the way his flaming red hair was sticking to his face, they must have already been on the pitch for a while. Fabian was easily one of the most handsome men Amethyst had ever seen in her life. She didn’t know exactly what it was but she often caught herself staring at him.

Remus was the only person who knew of her little infatuation with the redhead. He had figured it out sometime last month and had no qualms about exploiting her with that knowledge. Despite Moony’s constant urging, Amethyst could not bring herself to ask Fabian out. She couldn’t bear to risk their friendship for a silly crush. Well, maybe even friendship was a strong word to use for what they shared. They had barely gotten past smiling at each other in the hallways or having a conversation past “Hello.” Besides, she was pretty sure anything she felt was purely physical. She didn’t even know him well enough to feel anything beyond that. At least that’s what she was trying to tell Remus. And herself.

That photo Remus sent her had indeed provided her with the motivation she needed to get dressed and head downstairs, where Remus greeted her with a Cheshire Cat grin. Ignoring it, she slumped into the seat next to him. Practice lasted roughly another hour and Meth enjoyed every last second of it. Especially the part where Fab took off his jersey with one hand. Yes, that was particularly enjoyable. However, Meth quickly lost interest as the team began dispersing. James and Sirius slowly made their way to the stands to join their friends.

“How did you get Zer to wake up and be ready at 6?” Sirius said, after pressing a kiss to Remus’ mouth.

“I promised her something delicious.”

“Breakfast?”

Meth smirked, seizing the opportunity her twin had just provided her. “Yes. Remus is going to make me breakfast.”

“Oh, Fab!” James called out. Meth whipped her head around, perhaps less calmly as she would have liked. He must have just gotten out of the shower. His hair was still wet. And messy. Merlin, he looked so fucking good. It took everything in her to stop staring at his freckled face. “Why don’t you join us for breakfast?”

It was brief, maybe less than a second, but Meth could have sworn Fab’s blue-green eyes shifted from James to her. Or maybe she imagined it all. His face broke into one of the most beautiful smiles Amethyst had ever seen. “I’d love to.”

There was no fucking way Fabian was going to pass on the opportunity to have breakfast with Amethyst Black. She was, undoubtedly, beautiful. And funny. A little mean sometimes, but it suited her. Merlin, maybe he was a little smitten but who wouldn’t be? Even though they hadn’t spent a lot of time together, Fab knew he had feelings for her. A small smile danced on his lips just thinking about her. Up until very recently, she had only ever been Sirius’ twin sister, or James’ friend. It was only this year, their fifth time returning to Howarts, had they started acknowledging each other in passing. Just a simple flash of her smile made his day. He wanted to get to know her more. Most of what he knew of her had come from the three boys he shared a dorm with. How lucky they were to know her firsthand.

“Still with us, Fabian?” James asked, bringing Fabian out of his daydreams about the raven haired girl in front of him.

Breakfast was quiet, rushed almost. Everybody had morning classes, it seemed. It wasn’t until they were nearly done with their food that Meth threw a roll of parchment onto the table along with a copy of Advanced Potions Making and began writing. Her handwriting was nearly as beautiful as she was. From across the table, he watched her get increasingly frustrated as her glasses kept slipping down her face. It took him a couple seconds to realize what she was working on. Fab arched an eyebrow in her direction.

“Amethyst?” He barely got a grunt in response. “What is- Is that homework? For Slughorn’s class?”

“Meth, that class is in fifteen minutes.” 

She rolled her eyes at Sirius for that. “Then let me copy yours, Pads. Which you inevitably got from Remus, I’m sure.”

“I would, dear sister, but watching you struggle is funny.”

Sirius shrugged and Meth went back to her parchment. Fab was surprised. Not because she hadn’t done her homework yet but because he was in that class and he had never seen her. Granted the year had just started but he was certain he would not have forgotten having her in his class.

“Wait, you’re in Slughorn’s class?”

“Having a hard time following the conversation, Freckles?”

“No, it’s just- Well, I’m in that class. If you want homework, you can copy mine.” The words had instinctively fallen from his mouth. Meth looked at him and her gray eyes shined with so much hope. She had never looked at him like that before. Like he was her hero. He immediately handed her the roll of parchment from his bag. “So, how come I’ve never seen you in class before?”

“Oh that’s because she’s never actually gone to class. She sleeps through them. Although I think she might have just found the motivation she so desperately needed.”

“Like you’ve gone to every class, Remus?” Fab noticed Remus look at her as though they were having a silent conversation. Something in her expression changed. She looked almost regretful. “Oh, cmon, you know that’s not what I meant. Now, fuck off. I have homework to do.”

“In seven minutes?” That earned James a pointed glare. “Wow, you’re really not a morning person. I still don’t understand how Remus got you out of bed at 6 today.”

Remus immediately choked on his tea, as if he was trying to suppress a laugh. “I just gave her something she really wanted.”

“And what was that?”

“Tea. With ginger.” Fab was almost certain Remus had looked right at him when he said that. And smirked.

Meth didn’t even look up from her work to respond. “You might be bigger than me, Moons, but I will kill you.”

How could somebody nearly a foot shorter than him be so absolutely terrifying? And look so beautiful doing it? Fab glanced down at his watch. Two minutes till class. He was going to be late and for the first time he was actually okay with it.

Over the next few weeks, Meth’s potions attendance improved tremendously. Even Slughorn seemed impressed with her performance. There was one small issue, however. Much as she had hoped to shake off whatever she felt for Fabian Prewett, it seemed like that was not going to happen. She still very much found him to be insanely attractive. It obviously did not help that they had gotten so much closer as friends. She shook her head as if trying to knock those thoughts out. Perhaps, sitting in his dorm was not the right way to do that. Unfortunately for her, that dorm also belonged to her three best friends in the whole entire world.

“Where’s James?” She asked, walking through the door and finding only her brother and Remus. Even if she’d never admit it out loud, they were adorable together. She was truly glad Sirius had found somebody who made him so inexplicably happy.

“With Evans.” Meth was never somebody who craved a romantic relationship - or even thought she deserved one, but Pandora’s Box best not be opened. However, these constant reminders of her being the only single friend were starting to pile up. The most natural way to deal with that was, obviously, to ignore it completely.

“Do you guys have weekend plans or do I have to sit through more of this?”

“I think James wants to plan a Hogsmeade trip. Zonko’s maybe? It’s been a while since we paid Snivellus a visit.”

“Oh, Merlin, yes. I need to get out-” She was cut off by the sound of the bathroom lock clicking. In the next ten seconds, she forgot why she was talking in the first place. Fabian Prewett, the reason she so desperately needed to get away from the castle, walked out with nothing but a flimsy white towel around his waist. Her eyes were fixed on him, unable to look away.

“Oh, fuck, sorry, Ames. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Words were hard for Amethyst at that moment. Fabian made his way across the room and she could do nothing but follow him with her eyes. She knew Sirius had noticed. She could feel it. That didn’t matter to her anymore. She drew in a sharp breath as Fab put on a loose fitting T-shirt. He looked at her one last time before leaving the room. “Sorry, again.”

Amethyst turned back to her friends, and tried to say something before they could. Unfortunately, Sirius beat her to it.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Hmm? Nothing.” Denial was going to be her strategy of choice, it seemed.

“Amethyst, don’t fucking lie to me. You looked at Freckles over there like I look at- Oh my god. You like him.” Remus was laughing next to her brother. That, momentarily, drew Sirius’ attention toward him instead. “And you knew?!”

“Siri, come on. Besides, we’re not even sure if she likes him or if she just wants to jump his bones.”

“First of all, never ever put that image in my head again. Secondly, does James know?!” Sirius whipped out his phone and began texting. Oh, she was never going to be able to live this down. It took James less than three minutes to burst through the door in their dorm with the stupidest grin on his face.

“PREWETT?! REALLY?! I mean, don’t get me wrong. He’s an excellent choice. I just didn’t know you were capable of feeling things.”

“Excuse me if I don’t take relationship advice from somebody who spent 5 years pining after the same girl.” God damn it. This was not going to be something the boys would ever let her forget.

Taglist: @quickbright @tolkienlockian

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Four)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,954

Warning: Language, fingering, hand-job, kissing, heavy description of genitals.

A/N: Here’s the update!! I'm sorry its so late. My wrist feels a lot better today!! 😘💚💚 thank you for your patience!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

You were glaring at your computer screen; the words struggled to come to you. Nanami was pleased with the changes you had made to your latest chapters; he said the kiss scenes were much more realistic, all thanks to your best friend, but as much as he liked it, it still didn't change the fact that your smutty mutual masturbation scene sucked balls.

“It’s getting there.” He glanced back at the words. “You’ve moved on from using meat stick to penis—while is anatomically correct, it’s not quite rousing. Perhaps try using the words shaft, dick, maybe cock.”

“Kento!”

“I’m being serious, how many erotic novels have you read where the writer uses ‘she grasped his penis in her hand’ no ‘she grabbed his cock’.”

“Right—”

“Then there’s the climax.” Nanami sighed, flipping through the pages. “Be honest with me; have you ever seen a man have an orgasm? It’s not like a fire hose in hentai—” A judgmental look was shot in your direction, which was well deserved. “It’s more like spurts.”

“Ugh, seriously?”

“Yes, and Oaklynn’s orgasm, you just described her facial reactions and breathing. Get into the pulsing or contractions she feels. Hell, make her squirt. Ilsan is a knight; he's been to brothels so the man would know how to please a woman.”

“Squirt—?”

The way Nanami deadpanned at you before running a hand down his face told you he had figured it out. He must have finally put the deli meat sex scenes, terribly written orgasms, and your lack of knowledge of female orgasms. You slowly sank lower into the booth with a flushed face.

“You’re a virgin.”

“You’re a virgin~” You mocked, sticking up your nose as the nightmares and flashbacks of your luncheon came to an end. Nanami’s suggestion to watch porn gives it a better understanding of how orgasms work. There was no way in hell you were doing that. “I don't need to have sex to know how to write a good sex scene!”

That statement was true, and having some experience would benefit you. It had kissing scenes. And it most definitely would help you with the grinding scene in the alley you were adding in. Suguru made things comfortable for you; he wasn’t pushy or manipulative. He was so gentle and kind, making sure you felt okay. You were so grateful for him, but after you started feeling weird last night and told him to stop, maybe he didn't want to keep doing stuff with you.

If you were honest with him, maybe he'd understand. But it wasn't very comfortable. It felt so intense, and you were all tingly.

Once you finished your rewrites, you would have to sit down and talk to him. You just hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him after what happened. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can talk to him, get things back to normal, and maybe ask him to help you more. His lessons truly were helping you.

If only we weren’t having such a hard time with the stupid scene!

“Come on, just type it, dick, just type out the letters. DICK.” Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your eyes narrowing at the screen. “It’s just a word!”

Before your fingers could even touch the ‘D,’ a fist pounded against your door. At first, you were startled; your heart lurched into your throat as your hand rested against your chest. The fist slammed against the door once again. If someone knocked at your door at 2:30 in the morning, it wasn’t a good sign. You were about to grab your phone to call Suguru when you heard his voice at the door.

“Answer, answer god, please.”

He repeated the exact words as you shove your lap desk off to the side before jumping up for the door. You open the door just as Suguru pulls his fist back to knock again. His face was pale, and his dark bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. The dark circles under his eyes were the evidence of the nightmares that he had been having and the lack of sleep.

Regardless of his appearance, your eyes still frantically searched him up and down. You were trying to find evidence of injuries or something that told you what was wrong. You could find no traces of anything other than his insomnia. He was in a white T-shirt and baggy gray sweats and stood there silently. Look of relief washing over your face. He just stood there. A look of relief washed over his face at the sight of you.

“Suguru? What’s wrong? What happened?” He doesn’t answer your frantic questions; instead, he grabs you, pushing his way inside your apartment and kicking the door shut. “Suguru?!”

You yelp as you both fall to the floor, his arms wrapped firmly around you as he holds you flush against his chest; your best friend is shaking, his breath heavy as he clings to you as if you would vanish if he let go. Seeing him in such a state made you sick to your stomach. He didn’t deserve to be plagued with the pain of what happened years ago. You knew he blamed himself for what happened with Riko. You wish you could take the pain away from him.

While that was impossible, you could be there for him when he needed you the most. So you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed, hugging him as tight as possible. “Thought I lost you.” He whispered, his hands clinging onto your tank top.

“Suguru—” you whisper, hands gently caressing his back. “You’re not going to lose me.” You feel him relax against you, shaking softly as he pulls back an inch. “Nightmares again?” His dark strands of hair cover his eyes, but he nods. “Sugu, oh sweetie—do you wanna stay the night with me?”

Your words seem to hit him like a freight train. The panic and fear in his eyes turned into relief. His muscles relax as he exhales through his nose. You reach up and caress his cheek, letting him know you are there, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek into your palm.

“Yeah, can I please?”

“Of course you can.” You lock the door before grabbing Suguru’s wrist and pulling Jim into your bedroom. “You can go to sleep. I need to finish editing this page before I lay down.”

As you sit back down, placing your lap desk in front of you, Suguru takes a moment to look around your bed. There are tiny Post-it notes and looseleaf paper spread out over your comforter, along with the mini spiral notebook you had in your purse. He had teased about it initially, but he realized that you need to jot down your ideas when inspiration hits you. So your stocking was full of the little mini notebooks you loved to carry.

Seeing that blissful smile tugged at your lips, in the warmth of the flush in your cheeks, made Suguru float with happiness. That joy that was brought on by notebooks was something he would never forget. He wanted to make you happy for the rest of your life. Not just with notebooks but a life you both could build together in a romantic relationship. Suguru wanted to give you the world on a silver platter because you deserved it and much more.

“Oh fuck, sorry, Sugu.” Small hands quickly removed the notes and the papers covering the other side of your bed. “Just transcribing and everything.” You motioned for him to lie down, patting gently on the mattress.

Suguru crawled into bed with you, covering himself with the sheet, before snuggling his head against one of your pillows. The smell of your favorite shampoo and conditioner had his nerves relaxing as he watched you glare at the screen. From the way your nose was turned up, you were deep in thought. His curiosity got the better of him, and he learned in closer, his eyes roaming over the screen.

‘Oaklynn’s face scrunched up in pure pleasure as her orgasm hit her. Her breathing was heavy, and Ilsan growled in her ear, pumping his fingers in and out of her vagina.’

Vagina?

‘That’s it~ such pretty sounds—nngh!’ Ilsan’s voice cracked as Oaklynn’s soft hand squeezed his penis, twisting her wrist as she stroked. ‘O-Oh gods! Oak~ Oaaak!’ A spray of cum coated Oaklynn’s hand, his sticky seed spraying all over her, pooling onto the mattress below them.

“PFFT!” Suguru tried hard not to laugh, his hand flying up to muffle the chuckle. But god, it was too funny!

Upon hearing the laughter from your best friend, your eyes snapped down. There he was, tears in his eyes, tanned skin flushing a rosy color as his eyes remained glued on your screen. With a tiny gasp, you slammed your screen shut before hiding your face in your hands. Your jerky, panicked motions seemed to set Suguru off more as he threw his head back, barking out in laughter.

“Oh my god! Stop!”

“W-Why was he cumming like a faucet?!” Suguru rolled onto his back, wiping at the tears.

“Stop it!”

“And using the words vagina and penis? I preferred it when you called it Meat Stick and Fairy Cave!”

You grumbled before moving your hands to push him. “Could you please stop talking!? Please, I know it’s bad!” Those words had Suguru jerking his head up, finding you flushed cheeks and glimmering eyes.

“It’s not bad—”

“Yes, it is! This screams, ‘A virgin wrote this! She’s never gotten any action,’ Which is true! How can I describe an orgasm when I’ve never even had one?!”

The truthful outburst left you panting as Suguru’s laughter abruptly stopped. His dark eyes were transfixed on your face before you got up, putting away your notes and laptop, and as you silently moved around the room, you could feel Suguru’s eyes on you. And they stayed locked on you until you crawled into bed with a sigh, curling onto your side.

The self-doubt was in your every move, from how your body tensed to your shallow breathing as you fought back tears. You knew Suguru didn’t laugh to be malicious, but it wasn't a confidence booster either. At times like these, you questioned if you were good enough to do this and if writing a smutty fantasy was what you were capable of.

Suguru frowned as he watched your body tremble, soft whimpers sounding in your chest. God, he felt like an asshole. With hesitant movements, Suguru inched himself closer to you. His hand gently inches itself around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Seeing that you didn't fight him or verbally tell him no, Suguru wrapped his arm underneath you, spooning you.

“I’m sorry.” His breath was hot against your cheek. “I shouldn't have been snooping, especially when you were in rewrites.”

“I-It’s okay. I’m struggling with it; I want to be the best I can, ya’ know?”

“Mhmm, I know princess.” The warmth of his body had you relaxing. “Can I ask you a question?”

You turned your head and pressed your cheek against his. “Yeah, of course you can.”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” His voice was so smooth and sultry, making you shiver. “Like ever?”

It was true; you struggled to reach the mythical ‘Big O’ since you started masturbating. You felt like you would get close, it was within grasp, but you would fall short. There was a time you thought maybe you did, but the fact you had to question yourself was the only answer you needed to know that you had, in fact, not had one.

“No, I haven't; I think my fairy cave is broken.”

Suguru’s chest rumbled as he laughed loudly, giving you a tight squeeze. God, he had it so bad for you. You were so innocent and cute; you had such a good sense of humor.

“I don't think it’s broken.” His statement had you rolling so that you were facing him. “You just need to explore it some more.” His hand reaches down gently, resting it on your ass. “I could talk you through it if you want.”

Tingles ran down your spine as he squeezed the fat of your ass. It was a mixture of relief and excitement that your reaction didn't turn him off from the night before. Your hands moved, gripping his shirt gently before biting your lip. You had tried so many times before, but Suguru—he knew what to do.

“I don't want you to talk me through it—I want you to do it.” Suguru’s dark eyes went wide, his pupils the size of pinpricks. “If you want to.”

Your best friend leaned close to your ear before placing a kiss against it, and he moved further down to your neck, his tongue past his lips, kisses and little licks over your sensitive skin. The sensation had you squirming, your pulse racing in your throat, and a shuddering sigh left your mouth. Suguru sucked on your neck as his hand groped and massaged your ass. Your body felt like it was kindling with fire, a low burn in the pit of your stomach as he continued to pepper kisses over your neck.

“You want me to make you cum?”

“P-Please.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He grunts gravelly into the crook of your neck. “I’ll make sure you know what an orgasm feels like. That way, your already amazing writing is more accurate.” Teeth grazed over the skin, leading to your shoulder, as one of Suguru’s hands slipped under your shirt, trailing over your belly. “Can I touch you?”

“Y-Yea—aah—” his hand groped your breast the second he heard ‘yeah’ leave your mouth. He gently squeezed it, massaging it between his long, thick fingers. His thumb gently brushed over the nipple with every squeeze. “Mmm—” you pressed your lips together as your eyes tailed down, watching his hand move underneath your tank top.

Suguru continued to kiss and nip at your neck, trailing kisses so gently over your skin; well, his other hand pinched and pulled at your nipple, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The way your body twitched and jerked underneath his touch had his cock throbbing hard within the confines of his sweats. The breathless gasps, the way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, gently gnawing at it, you look so fucking hot; he wanted to do more to see what other reactions he could draw out from you.

Suguru’s hand left your breast, slowly trailing down past your stomach before pressing his whole palm over your clothes-clad pussy. Being touched intimately for the first time had you jerking, eyes snapping shut. Suguru groaned, rubbing his hand over your pussy, feeling the warmth of your sex. You gasped as he pulled his hand away to his index and middle finger over your clothed clit. Your body jerked forward, your arms wrapping around his neck, hands sticking into his hair as he brushed over the sensitive bundle and the nerves a second time.

“Does that feel good?” Suguru asked, his mouth pulling away from your sensitive skin.

Your mouth fell open as your eyebrows knitted together. “F-Feels r-real good.” His fingers began rubbing against your clit in slow circles, drawing out a whine from your chest. “O-Oh fuuuck S-Suguru.”

“I got you~ I got you, don't worry.” His fingers rubbed faster, memorizing how you jerked and reacted, repeating the same movements to get you to respond more.

The intensity of everything was becoming too much for you to handle. It felt like your whole body was on fire, like a pot on the stove roaring to a boil. You needed more; you weren’t sure what, but you needed more of this, of Suguru. He needed to quench your thirst, to put water on the flames burning with every nerve of your body, and you knew that his fingers would be the only thing that could help you.

“I-I want more.” Your voice was so timid, making Suguru’s hand seize up momentarily. “Please.”

“You sure?” he asked, his voice dark and husky.

With a nod, you grabbed his wrist, bringing it up to the waistband of your shorts. “Yes, I’m positive.” You gently pushed his wrist down, allowing his fingers to slip under the elastic band. You could’ve sworn Suguru choked on his breath, his eyes widening in the low light of your bedroom as they glanced down to his hand that had breached your shorts.

Suguru wrapped his arm around you, holding you steady as his hand dipped lower, brushing against your slick folds. The initial contact has your head tilting back m as he groaned, feeling your delicate skin before rubbing at your clit gently. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, digging your nails into it. Your body trembled as you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin.

“S-Suguru—”

“Is this okay?” Suguru moved slowly, carefully listening closely to your breathing and noting how you shook—memorizing each twitch, saving it for him to jerk off to when you fell asleep. All you could do was nod your head as you lost yourself in the pleasure. Seeing that you were doing so well, Suguru slipped his hand back further, his thumb rubbing against your clit before slowly sliding two fingers into you.

“Nngh!” You gasped out, pressing your lips against Suguru’s neck as you mewled. “Sugu~! Sugu~!” Your walls were beginning to flutter and convulse around him as he slowly curled his fingers in.

Feeling your hot breath against his neck, how your lips gently traced unintentional kisses over his sensitive skin had his cock throbbing hard. Suguru pressed into you, rubbing his hardening cock against your thigh. He slowly began thrusting his fingers in and out of you, wet squelched flooding the room as he rubbed your clit harder.

“I want to make you cum Princess.” He snarled against your cheek.

The vulgar words had you clamping down harder on his fingers. Your body was getting hotter, from your toes to your pussy, all the way into your stomach. That coil from a few nights before began tightening, coiling deep inside you. The intensity had you tugging on Suguru's shirt.

“S-Sugu~ f-feels intense a-again—Ah oh fuck it’s l-like before.” There was a twinge of uncertainty and fear in your voice. “I-I—”

“I know it's weird, but just let go. I got you—it’s going to feel so fucking good in a second.” His fingers moved in and out of your tight, wet heat faster, drawing out more gasps from you. “Trust me.”

“I-I do feel good, b-but—” Suguru hooked his fingers up, moving them in a come hither motion, causing your legs to shake. “Fuuuck! Oooh fuck!”

“God, you sound so good,” he whispered so softly you couldn't hear him over your moans. “So good.” Suguru had dreamed about doing this to you for so long, to have you underneath him, showing you how much you meant to him. It was a dream to have you clinging to him, gasping his name.

“Sugu—Suguru—” You could feel something coming; it was intense, making your toes curl. “S-Sugu—I-I—I think—!”

“That’s it~ that’s it, let go~ you’re gonna cum.”

His fingers pressed into the sponge spot inside of you. The pressure of his fingers and his thumb rubbing your clit had you seeing stars. You screamed into his neck, shutting your eyes tight as your thighs clamped around his hand. The pure fiery pleasure had your whole body and pussy convulsing as you cried out loudly, so loud Suguru heard your neighbor hit the wall with a ‘shut up.’

Suguru couldn't care; he wanted you screaming his name. He groaned as he felt your slick on his fingers, slowing down to help you ride out your first orgasm. "Shhhh, shh—princess, don't be too loud~" You panted heavily against his neck, tears in your eyes as the last waves of pleasure washed over you.

“Oooh fuck.” You wheezed out as Suguru gently pulled his finger out of you. “Oh my god.” As you rolled onto your back, Suguru quickly slid his fingers into his mouth, sucking your cum off with a satisfied growl. You tasted sweet with a tang of citrus; it was addictive. God, what would he do to taste it firsthand?

As he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, you rolled back onto your side and stared at him. Suguru smiled cocking an eyebrow at the almost unreadable expression on your face. “Yes? Can I he—eeegh!” Your hand brushed over his hard cock, catching him off guard. “W-What are you doing?” you say up on your knees, cheeks flushed with post-orgasmic glow and determination.

“I-I've never seen a man cum! A-And seeing that you offered to help me, c-could I watch you jerk off? O-Or maybe if it’s okay, could I touch you? Y-You’re hard, right?”

Your bluntness and straightforward request left your best friend gaping at you. You wanted to touch him? God, this was like two dreams coming true. But as much as he wanted to have your hand on him, he was afraid he’d blow his load the second your fingers wrapped around him. So he's going to have to compromise for now.

“How about I jerk off, and you can wrap your hand around me?”

“Okay! Um! Let's start.”

You sat back on your heels, swallowing hard as Suguru pulled the sheets off his body. You could hear your pulse pounding in your ears as you watched your best friend sit up, resting his back against your headboard, dark hair falling over his shoulder with every movement. Why were you so nervous? It was just Suguru’s dick, just your best friend, who just made you cum your brains out. Nothing about this should make you anxious! He was helping you! This was research!

But your research had your pussy throbbing as Suguru hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his pajama pants and pulled it down. When he did, his thick erect cock bounced, landing against his stomach with a hardy thump. It was heavy and thick, and it had you pressing your thighs together. The tip was a deep, dusty, rose color, dribbling out a clear substance from the tip. His shaft was tan; thick veins ran up and down as it twitched.

“Oh—” you whispered, taking in his well-trimmed pubes, admiring his happy trail that went from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock. “Oooh fuck.”

“Yeah—” Suguru groaned, tilting his head to the side as he watched you with dark, knowing eyes. He saw the way you looked at him, your gaze lingering on his cock. “this is it.”

Suddenly, it became crystal clear why he had so many romantic partners. He was thick and big. You’re sure it would hit every place inside you that would feel good. Wait a minute, not you, his previous partners! It must’ve hit all the right places inside of them. It probably felt so good. Like how his fingers felt pressing that spot inside you. His cock had the perfect curve that would hit it just right.

“You good there? Did your virgin brain malfunction?”

In a way, it did, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that it had. “W-What!? No, of course not!” your eyes started to burn with a visible flush. “No.” Suguru just laughed breathlessly.

“I'm just teasing you, come here, I’ll show you what it looks like when a guy cums.” Your eyes slowly drifted back towards him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him stroking his shaft. His hand moved silly up and down, smearing what you could only assume was pre-cum over himself. “Fuccck.” he grumbled, “I’m so hard, I-I'm probably not going to last long.” That was okay with you. “You can wrap your hand around mine.”

With his invitation, you placed your hand over his moving your arm up and down as he stroked his cock. He didn’t go all the way down to the base. Instead, he focused his attention on the head of his cock. Each time, he stroked his cock, his head tilted back against the headboard as his legs spread. The muscles in his upper thighs constricted with each jerk. He looked so fucking good, like some sex god.

Seeing him in such a state had you trying to match his movements as best as possible and attempting to keep up with his steady but jerky pace. Your eyes wandered to where his shirt pulled slightly up, just enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs that were clenching with each stroke that focused on the head of his cock.

While his movements utterly entranced you, Suguru’s eyes were drawn to you. The way you took your bottom lip between your teeth, how your eyes roamed over him, focusing on the muscles in his stomach, before trailing back towards his cock. Your presence was enough to have him dribbling more pre-cum out. Suguru straightened his legs out, toes curling as his hand moved faster up and down over the head of his cock. He had it down so bad for you that it was going to be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oooh fuuuck~ fuck fuck fuck~” he growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah.”

Fuck, oh God, he looks so good. Watching him pleasure himself had you feeling warm and fuzzy deep inside. He was really into jerking his hand up faster, squeezing himself hard. He looks so fucked out of his mind, and you were sure if you could see your face, your expression with mirror his. There was something about watching him getting off that had your pulse racing in your pussy throbbing, your shorts were already wet enough, and you could feel more slick coating them.

Moving your hand with his wasn’t enough. Biting down on your lip, you pulled his hand away. “Hey, what ar—aah—” Suguru’s head lolled back as you wrapped your soft hand around him, jerking your hand up and down at the same pace he was going.

“O-oooh.” You were not expecting it to be as velvety smooth as it was. The feeling of his cock in your hand had awakened something in you. You leaned over him, resting your free hand on his upper thigh. Stroking your hand over his cock up and down faster and harder, squeezing it like he had done to himself.

Suguru threw his head back against the headboard, hissing through his teeth as his eyes watched your hand move up and down over him. He had the scenario so many times in his head and his wet dreams when he would stroke himself until he would cum all over his hand. The final push was to feel you touching him with such enthusiasm.

“C-Cummin! Fuck! I’m cumming Princess!” Spurts of thick white cum shot out of his tip, lashing out over his stomach and his T-shirt. It wasn’t all like a hose; it was small ropes, for it to be exact, that lashed out over him and your hand. “A-Aah!” His whole body jerked his abs, clenching as his eyes rolled back, and you continued jerking your hand, milking him for all you could.

“W-Wow, tha-that was hot.” at the sound of your voice Suguru shot his hand forward, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from continuing to move over his cock. “O-Oh, sorry—“

“N-No, you’re okay, just sensitive.” He grunted as he let you go, allowing you to pull your coated hand back.

You both sat in your bed, traces of your orgasm coating both of you as Suguru came down from his high. Silence filled the open air between you, but it wasn’t at all awkward; instead, it was thick with tension, sexual tension. A tension Suguru was familiar with while the feeling was alien to you. Part of you wanted to reach out and kiss him, but something inside you prevented you from moving forward. Because this wasn’t a relationship, this was just your best friend helping you when you were struggling. It was nothing more than that.

Seeing as you were the only one capable of functioning, you got up and headed into your bathroom, grabbing a warm wet rag to clean you both off with. “Thank you for letting me do that.” You whispered as you cleaned off your hand before gently handing him the rag. “That was very informative, and I think it will help me with the pages. I’ve been struggling with it.” Suguru stared blankly at you, taking in your words as he wiped his cum off his stomach and shirt.

“Of course, I’m glad I could help you out.”

“Uhm, so do you wanna go to bed?”

“Yeah—yeah, that sounds good.”

“Awesome!”

After snatching the rag from him and tossing it in the bathroom, you crawled back into bed with your best friend. A man you had known since your childhood who you had grown up with. The two of you had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another no matter the circumstances.

As you lay down on your side, Suguru wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder if you both had crossed the line tonight. Or if you had taken a step towards a new chapter of your relationship? Those questions could wait until morning because you were only concerned about how good it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heartbeat as you both drifted to sleep.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26

[temnurus]

Drarry As Parents Fic Recs

I answered a request for fics in which Draco and/or Harry were parents ages ago, & I figured I'd throw 'em up here for people to reference & share as they liked. There are even two non-explicit recs this time, y'all! Does this mean I'm slightly less of a degenerate yet? (Probably not, oh well, lol.) Anyway, onto the recs!

All I Want For Christmas (Is For You To Stop Talking) by Femme & Noe (E, 162.9k)

Thoughts: This fic manages to feel like a slow burn to me despite taking place over the course of a month, & not only that, it's one of my favorites. I loved Draco & Harry as dads, & the whole concept of them sniping at each other over a children's holiday pageant made me laugh heartily. This was so well-written, & I enjoyed every bit of it.

Queer Eye for the Drarry Guys by Blowfish_Diaries (T, 18.2k)

Thoughts: I mean, what can I say other than that this was perfection? The Fab Five giving Harry & Draco makeovers at the behest of their adoring (& meddling) son Teddy was too precious for words. This was so fluffy & domestic & sweet that it nearly rotted my teeth out my head. It was lovely how much they cared for Teddy & what great dads they obviously were. I was floating on a cloud for hours after reading this. It was that cute.

Let It Fall by Buildyourwalls (E, 116.3k)

Thoughts: This is one of the most staggering portrayals of grief in fic I've ever read. My heart went out to Draco & Scorpius, & I cried a grand total of seven times reading this. It was gorgeously written, & every single character was fleshed out & engaging to read. Harry & Draco's slowly growing relationship had me spellbound, & I was so wrung out by the time I finished reading this I couldn't pick up another fic for a full day, if not longer. This is a must read. It's absolutely gorgeous.

Pocket Full of Starlight (Never Let It Fade Away) by Femme & Noe (E, 46.3k)

Thoughts: Okay, okay. I usually try not to double up on authors in the same rec list, but this fic really is just that good. This is a Parent Trap AU, & how frigging cute is that?! Jamie & Scorpius' rivalry at Quidditch camp had me in stitches, & the tension between Harry & Draco was electrifying. I particularly loved their characterizations. I highly recommend this. It was fantastic!

'Twas Brillig by Queenie_Mab (E, 73.9k)

Thoughts: I loved Harry's kids & his relationship with them in this. The trans characters were incredibly relatable, & my heart went out to the younger in particular with her struggle in coming out. I won't go into more details so as not to spoil that part, but it was very nicely done. Harry's own struggle with his sexuality made my heart hurt for him, & the split with Ginny was messy & painful. His & Draco's coming together was a fascinating read, & the smut was hot as hell. The case fic aspect took a backseat for me here. I was much more invested in the character's personal journeys, but both aspects of the fic were very well done.

Burn the Witch by lettersbyelise (E, 95.8k)

Thoughts: The author wrote Draco beautifully as someone who really grew out of the prejudices his parents instilled in him & found his own mind & voice & purpose in a really meaningful way. I thought his relationship with Scorpius was beautiful, & their take on a child on the autism spectrum was handled with care & aplomb. Ernestina was one of my favorite OCs ever in a story. She's really fantastic.

Harry seemed to slip right into their lives so comfortably, & I liked how natural that felt. Like it was bound to happen (because of course it was, haha). I loved how fiercely protective he was of both Draco & Scorpius, & they caught his endless capacity for love just perfectly in this story. The action scenes were wrenching, though minor in the scheme of things. This was an absolutely gorgeous story.

A Big Black Sky by AlexMeg (E, 90.5k)

Thoughts: At first I almost stopped reading this because a noncon tag wasn't included by the author, but to be fair they did put trigger warnings at the beginning of the chapters. That in mind, I skimmed what I couldn't handle & carried on. Otherwise, I really enjoyed this fic. The depth of emotion was beautiful, & I was so touched by Draco's love for his son. Harry's protectiveness made me warm inside, & watching them make their slow, fumbling way toward being a family with Draco, Scorpius, Harry & Teddy all together was so satisfying. I think the author handled the subjects of domestic violence & sexual assault with as much grace & tact as one can while writing a difficult narrative. I honestly don't think a good parent Drarry rec list would be complete without it. Just mind the tags because it definitely pulls no punches with the content it covers.

Where the treetops glisten (and children listen) by manixzen (T, 16.2k)

Thoughts: This was so heartwarming & lovely that I couldn't stop smiling through nearly the entire thing. I loved the idea of Harry & Draco being forced to spend time together due to babysitting Teddy for a week, & the opportunities for adorable hi-jinks were abundant indeed! Teddy pitting Harry & Draco against each other by playing to their need to be seen as his favorite was hilarious. I won't give anymore away, but this was so fluffy & cute it made my mood instantly brighten just from reading it.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306.7k)

Thoughts: A must-read for many Drarry fans, I couldn't help but include Turn in this list because Harry's relationships with his kids & Maura are prominent (& very touching) features. The fic itself is a glimpse into what could have been if Harry made a different choice one night in sixth year & how that chance takes him in a direction he never quite saw coming. The whole story is spellbinding & gripped me until the very end. I've read it five or six times at this point if that tells you anything, so if you haven't yet, you bloody well should!

Harry Potter and the Great Cat Caper by Kbrick (E, 78.6k)

Thoughts: I enjoyed this fic overall, & I laughed a lot in the first half. It takes a turn a bit further in, & I'm including a couple more specific warnings the author did not because I felt they warranted mention. They do warn at the beginning of the chapter in which it happens for the death of a pet, but there is a mistaken identity via Polyjuice plot point involving secondary characters that definitely needs a dubious consent tag due to them engaging in sex acts without disclosing the deception. That said, it does come through with a happy ending, & the Harry & Pansy friendship is definitely a standout in this.

[novaursa]

Of Gods and Men (the path)

This is Dune/GOT/HOTD/FAB/ASOIAF crossover AU that you've voted for. If you always wanted to see House Targaryen in space, I got you. Please note how some of the lore of both universes is bent to blend in both worlds. This is my original idea that I've been cooking for at least two years. Be gentle with my work, and enjoy the ride.

- Summary: House Targaryen survives their ancient exile after being overthrown by House Corrino and the Bene Gesserit. Fleeing to the unknown planet Albiron, the Targaryens build a hidden civilization powered by drakaon crystals, reviving their dragons and creating advanced technology. Millennia later, whispers of their survival begin to surface as the Bene Gesserit confront a mysterious Red Woman on Arrakis, who warns of a coming Prince That Was Promised destined to challenge their control. The Targaryens secretly prepare to return, ready to reclaim their legacy.

- Paring: reader!Daenys Targaryen/Leto Atredies

- Note: For more details about House Targaryen and their technology, please check out the masterlist.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: god killer

- Next part: destiny

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

You woke to a throbbing pain radiating through your body, your limbs heavy and restrained. The world was dim, the cold stone beneath you rough and unyielding. Every breath was a struggle, and as your vision slowly cleared, the weight of the chains binding your wrists and ankles became apparent. The metal was thick, cutting into your skin, and the sound of the links clinking together as you moved sent a chill down your spine.

A voice cut through the haze of pain, sharp and mocking.

"Ah, you're awake."

You turned your head, forcing your eyes to focus on the figure standing in the shadows. Feyd. His smirk was unmistakable, dripping with cruelty as he stepped closer, his boots echoing ominously in the dimly lit room. He looked down at you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to wake up," he said, crouching down to meet your gaze. "I have to admit, watching you fall from the sky was quite the sight. Almost poetic."

You glared at him, refusing to show any sign of fear despite the pain coursing through your body. Your heart ached for Vexiae, the thought of her suffering gnawing at you. You couldn't feel her presence like you usually did, and that emptiness made your chest tighten.

"Where is she?" you demanded, your voice hoarse but steady.

Feyd's smirk widened. "Your beast?" He stood, pacing around you slowly, savoring every moment of his control over the situation. "She doesn't want to cooperate. We tried a few methods, but she’s quite stubborn, I’ll give her that."

You gritted your teeth, knowing what he meant. Vexiae would never bend to anyone’s will, let alone the Harkonnens. Her spirit was as fierce as the fire she breathed.

"Dragons are not slaves," you spat, your anger overriding the pain.

Feyd paused, looking down at you with mock pity. "Ah, but everyone can be made a slave, my dear," he said softly. "It’s all a matter of pressure, pain... and the right incentive."

You held his gaze, refusing to break, though every muscle in your body screamed in protest. The weight of the chains, the cold of the stone—it all felt secondary compared to the burning anger rising in your chest.

He crouched down again, his face mere inches from yours. "You’ll see. Your dragon will fall in line. And so will you."

"I’ll never bow to you," you hissed through clenched teeth.

Feyd chuckled darkly, standing again as if your defiance amused him. "That’s what they all say at first. But I have time, and so do you."

He gestured to one of his men, who stepped forward and handed him a device, something small and sleek, with a cruel design you didn’t recognize. "You see, we’ve developed a little toy just for this occasion. It’s going to make things... uncomfortable for you. And for your dragon. I suggest you cooperate."

You felt the cold fingers of dread claw at you, but you kept your face impassive. You couldn’t give him the satisfaction. You wouldn’t.

Feyd turned to leave, but before he exited, he paused at the doorway and glanced over his shoulder, a wicked grin on his face.

"We’ll talk more later, dragon witch. I’m looking forward to seeing how long you’ll last."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone in the cold, the weight of the chains heavy around your wrists and ankles. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm, to think clearly. There had to be a way out. There always was.

You closed your eyes, focusing on Vexiae, willing her to stay strong. You wouldn’t let them break you. Neither of you.

The Harkonnens thought they had won, but they had no idea what was coming for them.

Leto stood over the holomap, his eyes scanning the terrain where their forces were stretched thin. The temporary base they’d established was a hive of activity, Atreides and Targaryen forces moving in sync as they prepared for the next Harkonnen assault. Hawat was beside him, analyzing the data with a keen eye, while Gurney gave orders to the soldiers under his command. Across the table, Aenys and Aelor spoke in low voices, strategizing their next moves.

"Maelor’s holding the line with Duncan and Stilgar," Leto said, his tone strained but resolute. "But the Harkonnens are relentless. We need to hit them back harder."

Aenys nodded, his face impassive but his eyes sharp with focus. "We will. My sons are ready to tear them apart. The moment we have an opening, they’ll push forward."

Aelor leaned forward, his expression mirroring his father’s. "If we can divert their forces at the southern ridge, we’ll have the advantage. But we need more time."

Hawat, never one to miss a detail, interjected. "Time isn’t something we have much of. Our scouts have reported more Harkonnen reinforcements incoming. We’re on the clock."

Leto’s jaw clenched as he absorbed the information. His thoughts drifted to you, still in Harkonnen hands. Every passing moment weighed on him, knowing you were out there, fighting to survive. But they had to stay focused. They couldn’t let emotion cloud their decisions, not with so much at stake.

Suddenly, a chill swept through the room, and the atmosphere shifted. Leto’s head snapped up, as did Aenys’s, both of them sensing the disturbance before anyone else.

From the shadows, the Red Woman appeared.

The soldiers nearest to her instinctively reached for their weapons, but Aenys raised a hand, stilling them. The Red Woman stepped forward, her presence eerie and commanding as always, her red robes billowing slightly as she moved. Her eyes, glowing faintly in the low light, fixed on the group gathered around the holomap.

Leto narrowed his eyes, unsure of her intentions. "What are you doing here?"

The Red Woman’s lips curved into a small smile. "The Lord of Light has shown me things, Duke. Things that concern both your House and House Targaryen."

Aenys crossed his arms, his tone curt. "Speak, if you’ve come with something useful."

She stepped closer to the map, her fingers brushing against its edges as if sensing the energy of the battlefield laid out before them. "The Harkonnens have bitten off more than they can chew, but they are not the only threat. Darkness looms over this planet, and the war you think you’re fighting is but a piece of a larger game."

Leto exchanged a glance with Aelor, the tension between them clear. "And what exactly are you suggesting?"

The Red Woman’s gaze flickered to Leto, then to Aenys. "You seek to reclaim your lady," she said, her voice soft but laced with power. "But there is more at play here than the rescue of a single person. The Harkonnens are tools, pawns of a greater force. If you do not strike swiftly, you risk losing more than just her."

Aenys’s eyes darkened, the mention of his daughter causing the temperature in the room to plummet. "What do you know of my daughter’s fate?"

The Red Woman met his gaze without flinching. "I see her, bound but not broken. The fire in her soul still burns. But the longer you delay, the closer the darkness creeps. And it is not the Harkonnens you should fear most, Dragonlord."

Leto’s patience was wearing thin. "Enough with the riddles. If you have information that can help us find her, say it."

She tilted her head slightly, a strange glint in her eyes. "The Lord of Light has shown me where they hold her. Beyond the southern ridge, deep in the caverns they believe hidden from the stars. But beware—their traps are set. And their new weapon will strike again if you are not careful."

Gurney’s eyes narrowed. "What kind of weapon?"

The Red Woman’s smile faded. "One that has tasted dragon’s blood and seeks more."

Aenys’s fists clenched at his sides, and Aelor’s expression grew darker. Leto felt the weight of the situation pressing down on them all, but there was no time for hesitation.

"Then we’ll destroy it," Leto said, his voice resolute. "We’ll strike fast, before they can use it again."

The Red Woman nodded, stepping back into the shadows. "Be swift, Duke. The night is dark and full of terrors, but the dawn brings hope."

With that, she disappeared as suddenly as she had come, leaving the room in a deaf silence.

Aenys turned to Leto, his voice low but deadly. "We move now."

Leto nodded, already issuing orders to his men. There was no turning back. They would reclaim you, no matter the cost.

The wind whipped through the jagged rocks beyond the southern ridge, carrying with it the scent of dust and something darker. Leto stood with his forces, his eyes scanning the horizon. Every muscle in his body was stiff, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He had to focus, had to stay sharp, but every breath he took was filled with the weight of knowing you were somewhere out there—captured, bound, vulnerable.

He glanced at Gurney, who was adjusting the strap on his weapon, his face set in a grim line.

"Any word on those weapons the Red Woman mentioned?" Leto asked, his voice low.

Gurney shook his head, his brow furrowing. "Not yet. But we’ve got scouts in the area. They’re closing in on something suspicious about a few clicks west. Could be what we’re looking for."

Leto nodded, though his heart pounded harder with every passing minute. He couldn’t shake the feeling gnawing at him—the fear that you were still in danger, the thought of you bound and suffering under Harkonnen control. He clenched his fists, trying to push the image of you out of his mind long enough to focus on the task at hand.

His thoughts drifted briefly to your twins. His children. They were back in Arrakeen, safe for now, but separated from you. He wondered if they sensed your absence, if they missed your warmth and presence as much as he did. It made his blood boil to think that you were out here, far from them, far from him, and in the hands of his enemies.

Gurney’s comm device crackled to life, breaking the tense silence.

"Sir," came a voice, faint and crackling through the static. "This is the infiltration team from House Velaryon. We’ve spotted something suspicious about three clicks west of your location. We're moving in to investigate."

Leto stiffened, his mind racing. House Velaryon was one of the Targaryen vassals—strong, capable fighters, and their infiltration team had proven invaluable more than once. But still, a sense of dread settled over him.

"Three clicks west," Gurney repeated into the comm. "Understood. Proceed with caution. Report back as soon as you find anything."

The static cut out, and Gurney turned to Leto. "What do you think?"

Leto’s jaw clenched as he stared out into the distance, his thoughts swirling. "We need to be ready. If they’ve found what we think they have, we’ll need to act fast."

Gurney nodded, but his eyes lingered on Leto’s face, as if sensing the turmoil beneath his calm exterior. "You’re thinking about her," he said quietly.

Leto didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the barren landscape before them. He didn’t need to answer. Gurney knew him too well.

"I can’t stop thinking about her," Leto admitted after a moment, his voice rougher than usual. "Every second she’s out there... every second she’s in their hands..."

Gurney’s face softened slightly. "We’ll get her back, Duke. You know we will. The lass is tough, and you’ve got the best forces in the universe at your side. The Harkonnens won’t stand a chance."

Leto appreciated Gurney’s words, but it didn’t ease the tightness in his chest. The thought of you, captured, possibly hurt... it was unbearable. And the twins. His mind kept going back to them, how vulnerable they were, how they were without their mother. He couldn’t let them lose you. He wouldn’t.

Another crackle came through the comm, and Leto’s head snapped toward it. "Sir," the infiltration team’s voice came through again, strained this time. "We’ve found it. There’s a massive weapon system, camouflaged, just like the Red Woman warned. And... it’s pointed right at your position."

Leto felt his blood turn to ice. "Get out of there," he barked into the comm. "Now!"

But before he could hear a response, a deep rumble shook the ground beneath their feet. The air around them seemed to hum with dread, and Gurney’s eyes widened in alarm as he looked toward the distant ridge.

Leto’s heart raced. The Harkonnens had anticipated them, and now, they were staring down the barrel of the very weapon that had taken you and Vexiae down.

"Prepare for impact!" Leto shouted, grabbing Gurney and pulling him toward the nearest cover as the sound of the weapon charging filled the air.

He would not lose you. He would not let them win. Not while there was still breath in his body.

The ground rumbled violently beneath Leto’s feet as the weapon fired, the noise like a crack of thunder, reverberating through the air with a force that made his bones vibrate. A searing, bright light streaked across the sky, and the blast that followed shook the entire ridge. The explosion wasn’t just sound—it was a pressure wave, slamming into Leto and his men, knocking them back.

“Down! Everyone, get down!” Leto shouted as he dove behind a large rock, Gurney right beside him.

The shockwave tore through their ranks, scattering debris and sending some of the soldiers sprawling. Sand and rock rained down, and Leto could hear the groans and cries of those who had been caught in the blast. His heart raced, panic threatening to take over as he thought of you, somewhere behind enemy lines, while they faced a weapon so powerful it could bring down a dragon.

Gurney wiped dirt from his face, his eyes wide in disbelief as he turned to Leto. “What the hell kind of weapon is that?”

Leto’s mind whirled as he tried to piece it together. He’d heard of such destructive force before, but only from tales of Valyrian technology long lost to time. And now, here it was, weaponized and in the hands of the Harkonnens.

“Drakaon crystal,” Leto said grimly, his voice barely audible over the din of the battlefield. “It’s powered by a Targaryen energy source. That’s how they’re doing it.”

Gurney stared at him, understanding dawning on his face. “You mean they’ve somehow weaponized the power of a dragon?”

Leto nodded, his jaw set. “That crystal—it's what powers everything the Targaryens build. Their ships, their cities... it’s why they’re so advanced. And now the Harkonnens have figured out how to use it to bring us down.”

Another explosion rocked the ridge, the blast closer this time. Leto grabbed Gurney by the arm, pulling him farther behind cover as more debris rained down on them. His thoughts were racing, not just about the battle they were in, but about you. If the Harkonnens were using this weapon now, then they would have it aimed at you as well.

“We need to move!” Gurney shouted over the chaos, his voice strained as the ground shook beneath them again.

Leto didn’t hesitate. “Fall back to the secondary ridge,” he ordered, his voice carrying over the shouts of his men. “Regroup, and we’ll figure out how to take that thing out.”

They moved quickly, dodging the falling rocks and skirting the edges of the destruction. Leto’s heart pounded as he pushed forward, determined to survive, determined to find you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the same weapon that had struck down Vexiae was now aimed at his forces. And worse, you were still in their hands.

“Duke, we can’t hold this position!” one of the soldiers yelled as another blast hit, sending more men scrambling for cover. “We need backup!”

Leto gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He needed to get word to Maelor and the others at the Targaryen base, but communication was nearly impossible in the middle of this onslaught. And with you captured, his options were limited.

“Gurney!” Leto shouted over the noise. “Get the rest of our forces to the fallback point! I’m going to find a way to take out that weapon!”

Gurney shot him a look of disbelief. “Alone? Duke, you’ll never—”

“I don’t have a choice!” Leto cut him off, determination burning in his eyes. “I can’t let them keep using this weapon, not when they’ve already taken her.”

Gurney’s face twisted in conflict, but he nodded reluctantly. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can. But don’t you get yourself killed, Duke. The lass wouldn’t forgive me.”

Leto managed a grim smile before he turned and sprinted toward the edge of the ridge, his mind locked on the one thing that mattered: getting you back and destroying the weapon before it could wreak more havoc.

As the explosions continued to tear apart the ridge behind him, Leto ran, the image of you in his mind fueling his every step. You and the twins. You had to survive. He couldn’t lose you, not after everything. And he would tear down the entire Harkonnen army if he had to, to make sure you were safe.

Paul stood before the tactical display in the Targaryen base, his brow furrowed in concentration as he coordinated the attacks, his fingers gliding over the holographic interface. The battle raged on outside, his father and Daenys—you— locked in the struggle for their lives. He felt the weight of it all, the burden of leadership pressing down on him in ways he hadn’t expected. He’d always known this day would come, but he hadn’t anticipated it feeling like this. So uncertain. So heavy.

Suddenly, a chill crept through the room, as if the very air had shifted. Paul turned, his eyes narrowing as he saw a figure standing in the shadows of the doorway. The Red Woman.

“You’ve come,” Paul said, his voice steady but with an edge of wariness. He had sensed her arrival before he had even seen her.

Her fiery red robes shifted slightly as she stepped forward, her eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to cut through the dim light of the room. She was both terrifying and mesmerizing, her presence unsettling yet compelling.

“Your path has changed,” the Red Woman said softly, her voice filled with strange certainty. "It was never supposed to be this way."

“I know,” Paul replied, his eyes never leaving hers. “I’m not the creation they wanted me to be.”

The Red Woman’s lips curved into a slight smile, though there was no warmth in it. “The Sisterhood's plans unraveled the moment you chose a different course. You were meant to be their instrument, to bring ruin to the universe, to leave billions dead in your wake.”

Paul’s jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists at his sides. “I know what they wanted from me. But I’m not bound by their vision. I’m not their creation.”

“You think you can escape destiny?” The Red Woman’s eyes gleamed with something almost like amusement, but there was a deeper, darker truth behind it. “The Sisterhood’s vision was wrong, yes. But there is a truth they glimpsed, one even they did not fully understand.”

Paul tilted his head, feeling a cold dread creep into his chest. “What do you mean?”

The Red Woman stepped closer, her robes sweeping over the floor like flames dancing on the wind. “You must go to where it all began. To Valyria.”

Paul blinked, caught off guard by the mention of the ancient world. “Valyria is a wasteland. A nuclear ruin. There’s nothing left.”

The Red Woman’s eyes gleamed. “That is what the universe believes, but you will find that much still lingers in the ashes of Valyria. The power that once forged all Great Houses... and the power that nearly destroyed it all. You must go there.”

Paul’s thoughts whirled, trying to comprehend her words. Valyria. The ancient seat of House Targaryen, wiped out in the Doom, destroyed in a cataclysm of fire and destruction. How could anything remain there? It was said to be a dead world, poisoned by radiation, the very air lethal to breathe.

“And what exactly will I find in Valyria?” Paul asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. “More death? Another trap?”

The Red Woman’s gaze was unyielding, her expression unreadable. “You will find your purpose. You will find the truth of what lies within you. And you will face a choice, one that will shape the future of this universe.”

Paul took a breath, trying to center himself. He had learned much from you, from his father, and from all that had transpired. But this—this was something else entirely. He had felt the weight of his destiny before, but never had it felt so... final.

“And if I refuse?” Paul asked, though he already knew the answer.

The Red Woman’s smile widened, but her eyes remained cold. “You won’t.”

Paul stared at her, a thousand questions swirling in his mind. He didn’t want to trust her. He didn’t want to believe that this path was the one he had to take. But deep down, something resonated in her words, something that called to him from a place he had yet to fully understand.

After a long silence, Paul finally spoke. “And if I go, what happens then? What becomes of my family?”

The Red Woman’s gaze softened, just for a moment. “The choice is yours, Paul Atreides. But if you do not go... the universe will burn, with or without you. The question is, will you be the one to light the fire, or will you be the one to put it out?”

Paul’s heart pounded in his chest, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He looked past her, toward the tactical display, toward the image of the battlefield where his family fought for their lives. And in that moment, he knew the path he had to take.

“I’ll go,” Paul said quietly, the words falling from his lips like a finality.

The Red Woman gave a small nod, her eyes gleaming with something like satisfaction. “Then you are ready.”

And with that, she turned, her red robes sweeping through the doorway as she disappeared into the shadows once more, leaving Paul standing alone in the room, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders.

Valyria. The birthplace of the dragons. And now, the place where his destiny awaited.

You were dragged roughly through the narrow corridors of the cavern, Feyde’s iron grip on your arm leaving a bruising ache. The cold, damp air did little to dull the pain as your body protested with every step, still weakened from the fall. Every movement was a reminder of the wounds that had yet to heal. But the pain in your body was nothing compared to the fear gnawing at your heart—for Vexiae, your dragon, still in the hands of the Harkonnens.

Feyde stopped abruptly, and you were forced to halt, catching yourself before you stumbled forward. He turned to face you, his dark eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction, a predator toying with its prey.

"You'll do everything I say," Feyde hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "Or your dragon will suffer. Believe me when I say, I won’t hesitate."

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled you further, dragging you into a large, open chamber. The moment you entered, the sight made your breath catch in your throat—Vexiae, your magnificent dragon, chained and bound, her once fiery, majestic form now trapped, wings pinned, and her glowing amber eyes filled with anguish. The chains were cruel, cutting into her scaled body, keeping her grounded, unable to move. Her deep growl reverberated through the cavern as soon as she saw you.

"Vexiae," you whispered, your voice trembling. Your bond with her was still strong, but the pain she was in cut through you like a blade. You could feel her suffering, her rage, and her fear.

Feyde noticed the flicker of defiance in your eyes, and his smirk grew wider. He let go of your arm, stepping closer to you, too close, his breath hot against your face. His hand, cold and rough, rose to caress your cheek, the touch of it sickening.

"I see why the Duke is so taken with you," Feyde said, his tone mocking as his fingers traced your skin, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine. "Such beauty... and power." He leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. "But all beauty has its price, doesn't it?"

You felt the bile rise in your throat, fighting the urge to pull away, to strike him, but the sight of Vexiae held you in place. One wrong move, one wrong word, and she would suffer more.

"Do what I say, Daenys, and your dragon will live. You will live." Feyde's hand moved down to your throat, his grip firm but not choking, just enough to remind you who held the power. "You wouldn’t want your precious Duke to lose you now, would you?"

His words twisted in your mind like a knife, cutting deep. The thought of Leto, of your children, of the life you had built with him, made your resolve waver, but only for a moment. Feyde was a predator, a monster, and he was toying with your fear, feeding off it.

"You will never break me," you whispered fiercely, your voice hoarse but steady, defiance burning in your chest.

Feyde’s smirk faltered, but only for a moment. His eyes darkened, his grip tightening just enough to remind you that he could still hurt you. But he didn’t need to. Not when he had Vexiae. He stepped back, finally releasing you, but his threat remained in the air like a noose around your neck.

"That remains to be seen," he said, his voice cold as he glanced toward Vexiae. "For now, you'll behave. If you want your dragon to live."

You swallowed hard, your heart aching as you looked at Vexiae, her once powerful form now bound and suffering. You had no choice—for now. You would comply. But you would find a way out. You always did.

Feyde, meanwhile, paced around you, watching your every move like a cat playing with a mouse. His presence made your skin crawl, the tension between you and the chained dragon looming in the air. You could feel Vexiae’s rage coursing through you, her frustration mirroring your own.

"Tell me," Feyde said, his voice casual, but there was an undercurrent of something darker in his tone. "I’ve heard stories of how your people bond with these creatures. Dragons. They say it’s some ancient Valyrian magic, passed down through the bloodlines. You... seem to have mastered it." He stopped, standing just in front of you, his dark eyes boring into yours.

You didn’t respond, keeping your gaze locked on Vexiae. The pain of seeing her like this gnawed at you, but you knew better than to give Feyde the satisfaction of seeing your despair.

He leaned in, his breath close to your ear. "Tell me how it’s done. The bond. What’s the secret? If your people could do it, why not us?"

A bitter laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it. "You think you can control dragons?" you spat, turning your head to meet his gaze with a cold, defiant stare. "You don’t have the blood for it. Dragons don’t bond with lesser men. Especially not men like you."

For a moment, Feyde’s face twisted with rage, his lips curling into a sneer. Before you could react, his hand lashed out, striking your cheek with a sharp crack. Pain bloomed across your face, and the force of the slap nearly knocked you off balance. You stumbled but caught yourself, refusing to let him see the hurt.

A deafening roar echoed through the chamber, shaking the very ground beneath your feet. Vexiae's roar reverberated off the cavern walls, her fury unleashed at the sight of you being harmed. The chains binding her clinked and rattled as she strained against them, her eyes locked onto Feyde with a fiery intensity that promised vengeance.

Feyde flinched but quickly regained his composure, though you could see the fear flicker in his eyes. He glanced at the dragon, visibly shaken by the beast's raw power, but he masked it with a smug grin as he turned back to you.

"Careful," he taunted, though his voice was strained. "You wouldn’t want to upset her more, would you?"

You lifted your chin, ignoring the stinging pain on your cheek. "Vexiae will tear you apart the moment she’s free," you hissed, your voice trembling with barely contained fury. "She’s no one’s slave."

Feyde’s smirk faltered, but he quickly recovered, his hand tightening around your arm as he leaned in closer, his voice a venomous whisper. "You’ll tell me how it’s done, or I’ll make sure she suffers. And you’ll watch every moment of it."

You clenched your jaw, your heart pounding with anger and fear. He could threaten all he wanted, but he’d never understand. Dragons chose their riders, their kin. They would never bend to the will of someone like Feyde, no matter how much he tried to force it.

"I told you," you said through gritted teeth. "You’ll never have what we do. Dragons bond with those who are worthy, those with Valyrian blood. Not with cowards who hide behind threats and chains."

Feyde’s face twisted in anger again, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you again. But instead, he straightened, his grip on your arm loosening. "We’ll see," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "We’ll see how long your defiance lasts."

He stepped back, eyeing you with cold disdain before turning his gaze to Vexiae once more. "Maybe I’ll find another way to break her," he muttered, more to himself than to you.

You stood there, chest heaving, your heart hammering as you watched him walk away. But the defiance in your eyes never wavered. You knew the bond between you and Vexiae was unbreakable, and no matter what Feyde tried, he would never have what he craved.

As Feyde disappeared into the shadows, leaving you and Vexiae alone in the cavern, you whispered softly, "I’ll free you, my love. I swear it."

Leto moved like a shadow through the desert night, the cold air biting at his skin as he navigated the rocky outcrops that led to the Harkonnen weapon. His heart pounded, not from fear, but from the weight of what he knew had to be done. There wasn’t time to send a full squad. The longer this weapon remained operational, the more lives would be lost, and worse, you—Daenys—were out there somewhere, taken by Harkonnens.

He couldn’t wait for an army. This had to end now.

The Harkonnen weapon, a towering artillery cannon forged with stolen Targaryen Drakaon crystal technology, was hidden behind a ridge of jagged rock. Its monstrous silhouette loomed over the desert, casting long, eerie shadows under the twin moons of Arrakis. Leto crouched low, observing the guards around it. They were well-armed and vigilant, patrolling the perimeter with sharp eyes, their Harkonnen armor gleaming dully in the moonlight.

He slipped forward, making no sound as he crept toward the weapon's base. His pulse quickened as he neared the control terminal—a series of glowing panels nestled into the rock face, controlling the power source and aiming mechanisms. This was the key. If he could disrupt the crystal’s energy flow, the weapon would be rendered useless, and the attack it had been preparing would be stopped in its tracks.

Leto unsheathed his blade slowly, the metal barely whispering against the scabbard as he closed in on the nearest guard. In one swift motion, he was upon the man, silencing him with a quick, precise strike to the throat. The guard fell without a sound, and Leto dragged the body behind a nearby boulder before moving on to the next.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins, but his focus remained sharp. One by one, he dispatched the guards with cold efficiency, his years of training and battle experience guiding him. There was no hesitation, no room for error. Every second mattered.

With the perimeter clear, Leto turned his attention to the weapon itself. He approached the control terminal, the faint hum of the Drakaon crystal thrumming beneath the surface of the machine. It pulsed with an otherworldly energy, powering the monstrous weapon with enough force to take down even a dragon. His fingers hovered over the control panel for a moment as he assessed the layout, his mind racing to find a way to disable the weapon without triggering an alert.

Then, a sharp sound—a voice—cut through the air behind him.

"Hey! Stop right there!"

Leto’s body tensed as he turned to see another Harkonnen soldier rushing toward him, weapon raised. Without thinking, Leto lunged, closing the distance between them before the soldier could react. They grappled, the soldier struggling to bring his blaster to bear, but Leto was faster. He twisted the weapon out of the man's hands and drove his knife into the soldier's chest, ending the fight in a matter of seconds.

The soldier crumpled at his feet, but the commotion had drawn attention. Leto heard the distant shout of more guards approaching, and he knew time was running out. He hurried back to the terminal, fingers flying over the controls as he searched for the power source.

The hum of the crystal grew louder, its energy pulsating through the machine, threatening to unleash devastation at any moment. Leto's eyes scanned the control panel, locking onto the power core diagram. With a sharp breath, he initiated the shutdown sequence, rerouting the energy back into the core. The weapon’s lights flickered, and the hum faltered.

Just as he thought he had disabled the system, a sudden surge of energy blasted from the control terminal. Leto barely dodged in time as the power surge erupted, sending sparks flying into the air. The cannon groaned as its systems overloaded, the crystal’s energy threatening to erupt in a catastrophic explosion.

Leto had no choice. He had to destroy the crystal.

With a determined grimace, he pulled the blade from his belt and slammed it into the power conduit. The Drakaon crystal let out a shriek of energy, crackling with violent pulses of golden light, but Leto held his ground, driving the blade deeper. Sparks flew, and the ground beneath him trembled as the weapon’s systems began to fail.

The crystal exploded in a brilliant flash of light, sending shockwaves through the desert and knocking Leto off his feet. He hit the ground hard, the air forced from his lungs as the blast rattled the rocks around him. For a moment, everything went still, the night deathly silent as the weapon fell into ruins.

Leto struggled to his feet, dazed and battered, but alive. The weapon was destroyed, the Drakaon crystal reduced to shattered fragments. He could hear the distant shouts of the remaining Harkonnen soldiers, confused and disoriented by the loss of their weapon. It would buy time for his forces.

But there was still more to do.

As he stood, regaining his bearings, Leto noticed something—an opening in the rock face, hidden in the shadows. A side entrance to the caverns.

The Red Woman’s words echoed in his mind once again, almost as if she was there.

“Deep in the caverns, where the shadows whisper.”

Without hesitation, Leto steeled himself and moved toward the entrance. You were in there somewhere, and he would not stop until he found you.

Leto pressed a hand to the side of his helmet, trying again to reach Gurney through the comm link. Static hissed in response. He cursed under his breath, glancing back toward the cavern entrance where the battle raged outside. The explosion from the Drakaon crystal weapon must have interfered with the signal. He was on his own for now.

The tunnels stretched before him, dimly lit by flickering torches set into the walls. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and sweat, and every step he took echoed off the stone, threatening to give away his position. He had to move carefully. He couldn’t afford to be discovered, not yet.

His heart raced as he navigated the maze of caverns, each turn bringing him deeper into the Harkonnen stronghold. The weight of his exhaustion clung to him, but he pressed forward, driven by a singular purpose—you. The thought of you in the hands of these brutes filled him with a cold fury, but he knew he had to remain focused. Rushing in without a plan would only get him killed—and it wouldn’t save you.

Up ahead, Leto heard voices—rough and low, the unmistakable cadence of Harkonnen soldiers. He slowed his pace, moving silently against the cavern wall, staying in the shadows as he approached.

“…can’t believe the weapon just went offline like that,” one of the soldiers muttered, his voice thick with irritation. “Took months to get it operational, and now it’s a pile of scrap.”

Another one chuckled. “Yeah, but did you hear what happened? One Atreides soldier took it down. Just one man.”

“Bullshit,” a third voice chimed in, laughing. “No way one guy could’ve done that.”

“I’m telling you, that’s what I heard. Some freak out there tore through the whole defense line. Now we’ve got no heavy artillery, and Feyde’s pissed.”

The first soldier snorted. “Better hope it wasn’t the Duke. Heard he’s been looking for the Targaryen girl. If it was him, Feyde’s gonna have more than just a broken weapon to deal with.”

Leto’s heart tightened at the mention of your name. So, they knew you were still here, somewhere in these caverns. His grip on the hilt of his blade tightened as he stayed hidden in the shadows, listening intently.

“What’s the deal with her anyway?” one of the soldiers asked, sounding genuinely curious. “Why’s Feyde so obsessed with her?”

“Power,” came the low reply. “Targaryen secrets. Bonding with dragons. He thinks if he can get her to talk, he’ll control her beast. Turn it on the Atreides.”

The others laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern. “Yeah, good luck with that. I saw the thing chained up. It’s barely controllable as it is. If it gets loose, we’re all dead.”

Leto’s blood boiled at their laughter, but he forced himself to stay calm. The more they talked, the more information he could gather. There was no point in engaging them now, not when they were still unaware of his presence.

“Well, whatever happens, I just hope Feyde can keep her in line long enough for us to get out of here. I’m not sticking around if that dragon decides it’s had enough.”

The voices faded as the soldiers moved deeper into the caverns, their laughter trailing off into the distance. Leto waited until he was sure they were gone before stepping out from the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest.

You were alive, but in Feyde’s hands. And Vexiae, your dragon, was chained somewhere nearby, just as furious and dangerous as ever.

Leto’s jaw tightened as he moved forward, his senses sharp and his focus clear. He had to find you, and he had to do it soon. But the Harkonnens weren’t fools, and the deeper he ventured into the labyrinth, the more dangerous it became.

Every corner he turned, every step he took, brought him closer to his goal—but also deeper into the heart of enemy territory. He heard the distant clatter of weapons, the shuffle of armor against stone, but he stayed out of sight, moving with the precision and stealth that had kept him alive on countless battlefields.

The path split again, and Leto hesitated for a moment, trying to discern which direction to go. The voices of the soldiers had long since disappeared, leaving him to navigate the winding tunnels on instinct alone.

Suddenly, a distant roar echoed through the caverns. It was faint, but unmistakable—the sound of a dragon, your dragon. Vexiae.

Leto’s heart lurched in his chest. You were close, and so was your captor. The time for stealth was running out.

He pressed on, deeper into the caverns, each step bringing him closer to the confrontation he knew was inevitable. Feyde-Rautha was waiting, and so were you.

Leto pressed forward through the narrow passageway, his heartbeat quickening as the air grew hotter and thicker with the acrid scent of dragonfire. The walls around him seemed to close in, and the dim light from the torches flickered erratically as he edged toward the source of the sound.

Ahead, he caught a glimpse of Vexiae—your dragon, her massive form straining against the thick chains that bound her to the ground. She was battered and wounded, her scales scorched in places from the Harkonnen’s weapons. But even in her injured state, she was fierce. Her molten amber eyes flickered with rage as she thrashed against her restraints, her tail sweeping the ground in frustration.

Several Harkonnen soldiers stood nearby, taunting her, keeping just out of reach of her snapping jaws. One of them threw a rock at her flank, laughing cruelly as it bounced off her scales.

"Keep pushing her! Let’s see how much fire she’s got left!" one of the soldiers jeered, grinning as Vexiae let out another furious roar, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the energy to retaliate.

Suddenly, with a great heaving effort, she managed to unleash a stream of fire, the flames bursting from her maw with a deafening roar. The soldiers scrambled back in panic, shouting and swearing as the fire nearly engulfed them. They retreated, cursing under their breath and leaving Vexiae alone, at least for the moment.

Leto seized the opportunity. He crept closer, moving carefully along the shadows of the cavern walls until he was near enough to see the strain in Vexiae’s movements. Her breathing was labored, and her wings hung limply at her sides, the chains binding her tightly to the ground.

She hadn’t seen him yet, but she sensed him. Leto watched as her nostrils flared, her head turning slightly in his direction, as if recognizing the scent of a familiar ally. Her growl softened, and her fiery eyes flickered toward the narrow passage where he stood.

“Easy now,” Leto whispered, stepping out of the shadows and making his way toward her. He moved slowly, cautiously, keeping his hands raised to show he meant no harm.

Vexiae’s eyes locked onto him, the fury in her gaze giving way to a glimmer of recognition. She let out a low rumble, a sound of acknowledgment, as her massive form shifted slightly. The tension in her body eased just enough for Leto to approach.

“I know,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re hurt. But I’m going to free you. Just stay calm.”

He moved to the side, carefully examining the chains that bound her. They were reinforced, heavy iron links meant to keep even a creature as powerful as Vexiae grounded. The locks were intricate, no doubt designed by the Harkonnens to prevent a quick escape.

Vexiae growled softly again, her massive head lowering toward Leto as if watching his every move. She trusted him—he could sense it. But he also knew that if he made a mistake, if the soldiers returned too soon, things could go very wrong.

“Stay with me,” Leto whispered, running his hand gently along the side of her neck. Her scales were hot to the touch, her breath coming in ragged huffs as she tried to remain still. “I’ll get you out of here.”

He scanned the area, looking for anything he could use to break the chains. There were tools nearby—left behind by the soldiers when they had fled. A set of heavy cutters lay discarded on the ground, just within reach.

Leto grabbed the cutters and moved quickly to the first lock, his hands working with practiced precision. The metal resisted at first, the tension in the chain making it difficult to find the right leverage. Vexiae shifted slightly, a low growl rumbling through her throat as the sound of the metal groaned under the strain.

“Almost there,” Leto muttered, sweat beading on his forehead as he worked. The last thing he needed was to draw attention from the remaining guards.

With a final, forceful snap, the first chain broke loose. Vexiae’s tail twitched, the relief in her body palpable as the weight on her wings lifted slightly.

“One more,” Leto said, moving to the next lock. His hands moved more quickly now, fueled by the urgency of the situation. Every second counted.

Vexiae stayed calm, her breathing steadying as she watched Leto work. She knew him, trusted him, and that bond was the only thing keeping her from lashing out in her weakened state.

Just as Leto began to work on the final lock, he heard the distant sound of footsteps—the soldiers were returning. His pulse quickened, but he kept his focus on the task in front of him. There was no time for hesitation now.

With a sharp twist of the cutters, the last chain snapped free. Vexiae let out a soft rumble of relief, her wings stretching slightly as the weight of her bindings fell away.

“Go,” Leto urged her, stepping back as Vexiae rose to her full height. The dragon’s eyes blazed with renewed strength, her muscles coiling as she prepared to move.

Vexiae, with a powerful flex of her wings and limbs, began scaling the cavern walls, her talons finding purchase in the rocky surface as she climbed toward one of the larger passageways above the main chamber. Leto watched in awe as her massive form disappeared into the shadows, leaving behind only the faint echo of her movements as she slithered into the higher tunnel, now free and out of sight.

He knew he needed to move quickly. The Harkonnen soldiers would return any moment, and if they found him there without the dragon, they would sound the alarm. His eyes darted around the chamber, scanning for a place to hide. The cavern was filled with jagged rock formations, but none that could conceal him for long. Then he spotted a narrow crevice in the far wall, barely wide enough for him to slip into.

The footsteps were growing louder, accompanied by the harsh laughter and crude taunts of the Harkonnen troops. Leto wasted no time, moving swiftly across the chamber and wedging himself into the crevice. He pressed his back against the cold rock, holding his breath as the soldiers entered the chamber.

“Where’s the beast?” one of them barked, looking around in confusion. “She was here just moments ago!”

Another soldier stepped forward, his face pale as he stared at the broken chains on the ground. “She’s gone! The dragon’s gone!”

Panic rippled through the group. They spun in circles, searching the shadows for any sign of Vexiae, their weapons drawn but trembling in their hands.

“How could she escape?” one of them demanded, his voice rising in fear. “No one could break those chains!”

“We’re dead if she comes back,” another muttered, his eyes wide with terror. “You saw what happened last time. She’ll burn us all alive.”

Leto could hear the fear in their voices, and it sent a surge of satisfaction through him. The Harkonnens had no idea what they were dealing with. Vexiae was far more than just a weapon—she was a force of nature. And they were foolish to think they could ever truly contain her.

The soldiers frantically looked around the chamber, checking every corner and crevice for the dragon. But they were too late. Vexiae had already escaped into the higher passages, and Leto had no doubt that she was making her way toward freedom—and perhaps, revenge.

One of the soldiers, clearly the leader, cursed under his breath and turned toward the entrance. “Spread out! Find her! If the beast escapes, the Baron will have our heads.”

The others followed his command, reluctantly moving toward the various tunnels that branched off from the chamber. Their footsteps echoed in the distance as they disappeared, leaving the chamber momentarily empty once more.

Leto exhaled slowly, easing out of the crevice as the last of the soldiers vanished from sight. He couldn’t linger here any longer. You were still out there, and every second he wasted meant you were in greater danger.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Leto moved toward the larger passageway where Vexiae had escaped. He knew he had to find you before the Harkonnens did. He wouldn’t rest until you were safe again, back in his arms.

[confusedpan-da]

Hiya! I was if you would do a caregiver Toshinori x Age regressor male reader? Where the reader has a bad day and regresses to cope with it and Toshi supports him? Absolutely Fine if not! Hope your doing well and have a fab day!

Hi! Thank you for the request!!!! I’m doing quite alright! ^^ I hope you are doing well as well?

Text after the cut!

I’m like 90% sure that what I wrote isn’t what you aimed for BUT I’ll post it anyway for you because maybe you’ll still like it XD

I don’t really do ‘x reader’, however! I did write third person he/him with no further description of the character so it should be easy to project? I think? Help ( °̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥˟°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ )

Also I have never written Toshinori before. Be warned.

Warnings: exam stress/ black out + crying+ mentions of math exam (don’t worry, it can’t hurt you… I think)

He was so done. 

Not just done with everything going on but also done for. 

God, wasn’t math supposed to be logical?! All the stuff he had learned for weeks, all the exercises, all of that didn’t even scratch the surface of what their teacher was asking off of them in this exam. 

Or maybe the information was simply hiding somewhere in the depths of his brain? Does that mean he studied till literally 3 am for absolutely nothing?! He stressed out about it, missed out on meeting his friends and even neglected his own needs for absolutely nothing?! Or maybe this was exactly because of that? But it didn’t matter. 

What mattered however, was the still empty sheet and the fifteen minutes left on the clock. 

Think!

But thinking was hard when the words were turning nonsensical and the numbers were swimming along the page. He blinked. Not the time to cry! It’s time to write something. Just something! Literally anything! 

So he did. Putting down snippets of things and sentences he remembered from class. Were they even from math? He didn’t know but he wrote it down anyway. Then it was over. He gave his papers to the teacher, packed his bag and left. 

Now a ten minute break. 

It’s fine.

It’s fine.

Maybe he did write something right? He could have… or not… what if-

Don’t think. Don’t think about it. It fine. It’s okay. It’s fine. 

“Careful there young student!”, his body grew stiff. No. Not the time. He’s not here!

“Is everything alright young boy? Is there a problem? Threat not because I’m here!”, god damn it. Finally he dared looking up to the figure in front of him. The figure he had just almost bumped into and that’s his biggest idol. 

All Might. 

He could see his own surroundings starting to blur. No, wait, he was tearing up. He quickly tried to hide it, turning around, wanting to make a run for it. He didn’t want his idol to see him like this. But he forgot to take into account that the man he just met had made it his life mission to help people in need. And if he wanted to admit it or not, he did look the part. He probably did look like a helpless little kid right now. At least he felt like it. This was just too big. 

He sniffed as a large hand was softly placed on his shoulder, prompting him to stop in his movements. 

“My, what happened to make you cry like that young one?”, he hated this. Why did this man need to behave like a parental figure to just everyone? Even people he didn’t know. Why did he have to just call people like that? Why did he-

The dam broke and he couldn’t fight the tears anymore. 

“Oh- oh… erm… hey it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me young one!”, but he continued to cry. There was no stopping it. How could he? He failed the exam, he met his idol and couldn’t stop embarrassing himself. He lost control and couldn’t gain it back. It was too big. He felt too small. This was simply unfair. 

“Erm… would you like a hug?”, and he found himself nodding. Shortly after he was held in secure arms. A hand was soothingly rubbing his back and he sniffed again. 

“It’s alright young one. It’s alright.”

“I- I’m so sorry.”, he pressed out against the man’s shirt. 

“Now now, don’t be! It is my job to rescue people! If from villains or other things doesn’t matter.”

He melted further into the hug. Suddenly limp and feeling tired beyond believe. So tired. From the crying his head hurt and his nose was stuffy. He sniffed and the old hero brought some distance between them to reach into his pocket. A paper tissue was given to him shortly after. 

“It’ll be okay young one! I am here.”

[navree]

I was staring at some artwork on pinterest and I was thinking, it's interesting that the ASOIAF only pays attention to Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya as the Conquerers when there was technically FOUR Conquerers. Do you have any headcanons about the "Fab Four" after Westeros began to settle down? How do you think Orys got brought in on the plan to take Westeros? My favorite question is it's likely they believed Orys was their half brother - so why not try to give him a dragon?

I'd assume that the reason why he's not listed as one of Thee Conquerors is a) not technically being an acknowledged member of the family, only a rumored bastard and b) I think he was the only one of the core four that didn't have command over a section of the forces of the Conquest (Rhaenys appears to have had the nominal command of forces in the Stormlands, Visenya had command of the forces sieging the Vale, and Aegon was of course the commander of the force he had everywhere else, whereas Orys fought under Aegon in the first battle, and then under Rhaenys in the taking of Storm's End and defeating the Durrandons). There's also the fact that, despite being (ostensibly) family, Orys wasn't necessarily raised alongside Visenya and Aegon and Rhaenys, but more likely with his mother, and was a daytime companion for Aegon during his youth, whereas the three full-blooded siblings were literally all living in the same place morning, noon, and night (not to mention all the interconnectedness when you add in the marriage factor, which Orys wasn't a part of).

How Orys got brought into the plan to invade Westeros likely depends on which version of the story you go with. If you go with the official version that Aegon started seriously thinking of conquering Westeros after Argilac mutilated his envoy in response to Aegon offering Orys for Argella's hand, then Orys was likely in it from the beginning, since Aegon was offering to have him get married while spurning a marriage offer for himself, and would have been told that Aegon's offer was refused, especially in the manner that it was. If you think that Aegon was already planning an invasion and Argilac's rudeness was just a pretext, Orys was likely brought in once Aegon had finished the Painted Table and gotten the support of his sisters in the venture and was now starting to think logistics, given that Orys was already known as a puissant warrior and obvious Aegon's closest friend and one of the most trusted people in his life. If you subscribe more to the recent revelation that Aegon might have been a dragondreamer whose visions of the Long Night were what motivated his desire to unify Westeros, then Orys might have even been brought in before there was even a plan for invasion. Cuz honestly, if I was having nightmares about ice zombies literally running over the entire world but had no way to figure out when it was even supposed to happen, just that these visions were constant and felt too real to just be dreams, I would probably confide in my friends, and considering Orys was Aegon's only real friend, it's not unreasonable to think of a young Aegon, haunted by the future, confiding his sense of foreboding that something is about to happen to Orys if only just to let it out. After that, it's a simple matter of Aegon bringing him into the fold of people who get the honesty of his motivations once he starts planning the Conquest.

I like to think, in the years between the Conquest and the First Dornish War (my beloathed), that Orys actually spent a lot of time with Visenya and Rhaenys. We know that Aegon spent a lot of time on various different progresses throughout the realm in the early years, in order to make sure he didn't have any blind spots about the different cultures of Westeros, and that, while he was ultimately in charge, the day-to-day governance of the country was left to his sisters. And given that Orys was the Hand of the King, and therefore also in charge of a lot of governance affairs, I think that meant a lot of time was spent between the three of them just sorting stuff out. I also think he deliberately sought out Rhaenys when dealing with Stormlands related issues, even above Aegon, due to their time together attempting to defeat the Durrandons and the shared bond from that time and their knowledge of the landscape that they share together that Aegon and Visenya don't. I think Orys was one of the people most vocally offended by rumors of Rhaenys's infidelity, seeing as a slight against both Aegon and Rhaenys (painting Rhaenys as a slut and Aegon as a weak-willed cuckold), even while Aegon and Rhaenys didn't deign to respond to those rumors in any capacity themselves. I think it ties into a view I have where, despite him being the youngest in my opinion, he was very protective of all of his siblings, even Visenya who I don't believe he was the closest to, and I think it tied a lot into his identity and why he fell so far when he was mutilated in the First Dornish War. After all, without a hand he's not only unable to be Hand of the King, he can't raise a sword to defend his family, so then literally what is he for, what is the point of him? I also think they hung out as much as they could, all of them. I think that, whenever they were all four of them in one place, there was at least a once a week dinner, not only just to debrief on politics and rule stuff, but also just to be together and be a family. I think he and Aegon still hung out a lot one-on-one, that when Orys did want a sparring partner (before he lost his hand) and Aegon was free, he went to Aegon first, and that Aegon probably acquiesced more than he refused, in spite of his noted refusal to enter tourneys or recreational combat. Honestly, I think that Orys was the quintessential version of what people think a Baratheon is, basically Robert if he weren't a dogshit person, big and boisterous and loud and fun and filled with energy, and I think it helped him meld seamlessly with his family (as a companion to gentle and fun-loving Rhaenys, as a foil and drawing-out friend to reserved and introverted Aegon, even giving him a good dynamic with the more stern Visenya). I also think, if circumstances hadn't gotten in the way, he would have been the best uncle, would have loved carrying the kids around on his shoulders, teaching the boys all he knew about swordcraft and playfighting with them, exaggeratedly bowing and scraping to the girls if Aegon had ever had any daughters. While I don't think he was the glue of the family (that's Rhaenys) I think he was a lighter presence that helped with three very intense people with a lot riding on their shoulders and their bloodline, and a small part of why they were at their best in between the end of the Conquest and the First Dornish War, before everything went wrong.

As to why Orys was never given a dragon, I think it likely came from a mix of factors. Not every Targaryen was a dragonrider, even when they were at their peak, so it's possible that Orys just didn't attempt it, either because he never felt the need or had an aversion somehow (maybe he had a fear of heights, who knows). We also don't know how many adult dragons were available during their youths, other than Balerion and Meraxes and Vhagar, so it's possible there just weren't any dragons available for him after his three siblings had claimed their's, or if there were dragons, they were still young hatchlings and by the time they were grown, he'd just gotten more used to life without them. It's also important to know that dragons aren't things that can be given - they're sentient creatures, incredibly intelligent and incredibly temperamental. Part of claiming a dragon is not just on the rider, but also on the dragon, on the dragon accepting the bond and returning it in kind (as seen with Aemond Targaryen and Vhagar later). For all we know, Orys could have tried to claim a dragon, but the dragon rejected him, and he either kept trying and failing or he just never tried again. We don't know because an attempt by a bastard to do something that didn't even succeed, well before any of these people were famous enough to have dedicated chronicles, likely wouldn't have been recorded, and word of mouth would have been lost relatively soon afterwards. So it could have been attempted and just never written down, or just not attempted at all for a host of reasons.

[fleurcareil]

Leaving Canada

After finishing the road trip, the last 2 weeks of September were a whirlwind of activities to sort out things and say goodbye one more time before leaving the country. Although I may have benefited from staying a bit longer, having been on the road for so long made me ready to close off this phase and look forward to the next one, going back home to Europe! 🤩

First priority was to clean everything that I had been traveling with (with thanks to lots of space and a garden hose😁) and then figure out what to put into storage and what to bring as luggage. Initially my intent had been to travel straight from France to Chile, however due to exorbitant one-way air fares, I ended up booking a return ticket back to TO for mid-January.... not sure how this is all going to work out but for now it means that I'm only travelling with one suitcase instead of the 3 that I had already pre-packed. Easier to carry but harder to fit my clothes! 😅

Second key item was to get my car sold, so I got the car deep cleaned over lunch with Tara... something I've never done but should really have given myself as a gift much earlier! 😄 I thought the guy had done a great job at making my car look brand-new again, but he actually apologized to me as he hadn't managed to remove all bug residue from the grill nor the grit of the endless unpaved roads from the tires...the downfall of such an extensive road trip!

That afternoon, 3 accidents on the QEW highway meant that traffic was jammed for miles around, so I tried to wait it out by visiting the first 2 car dealers to get a sense of their offer... suddenly everything seemed wrong with my fab drive, as it needed new tires, new brakes, a chip in the window etc etc... 😯😪 I recognize the sales tactics for what they were but they still pulled me down, so by the time I got back home after taking 1.5 hours over a 20min drive, I was shaken & thoroughly fed up!

Next day, I toured a few more dealers who all basically said the same and then just cut my losses to get it over with (I must be the worst negotiator on earth! 🤣) ... I absolutely have had an amazing time driving my Rogue and I still loved everything about it, but it was time to say goodbye and move on.

Being a bit emotional after signing the papers, I drove by my old house in Burlington (where the new tenants are neglecting the pretty roses I had planted 😣) and then sat on my favourite bench in Paletta Park overlooking Lake Ontario. A mere 10 minutes' walk from where I used to live, I would often come here over my lunch break or after work, a great spot to relax! 😊

Next day, after having handed in the car & safely deposited the cheque at the bank, I was happy to go over to Priyanka & Arnie for a traditional Hungarian dish and meet again with their lovely parents. I first met Priyanka's parents at our MBA graduation over 10 years ago and we've been in touch ever since, having shared many dinners (including with my parents and in Delhi 🤗), theater plays, a powwow and ofcourse the wedding in India! 😍😍

On Friday, I spent hoouuuurs on the internet and phone to arrange anything from bank accounts & medical insurance to booking flights for my travels in Europe. Felt good to clean house and try to close as many things as possible before leaving. In the evening, we had delicious pizza & craft beer in the "Shed" in downtown Dundas.

That Saturday, it was fun times at the Ancaster Fall Fair with Arpita, Navneet and his cousin Nithia. 🤩 I had never been to a farm fair, which had everything from a hot sauce contest, cow & chicken displays to nitro-chilled snacks and prizes for the prettiest tomatoes, hay bales and funny-looking veggies! 😂 Quite an experience and a great afternoon!

On Sunday, I went with Heather for a hike in nearby Dundas Valley conservation area, my favourite forest west of the GTA. I've been here so often that I know most trails by heart but this time we walked in from a residential area on the side so that the forest still felt new. 😀

I spent the second week in Toronto where I lived for 11 years - my personal record of living that long in one city! 😊 - and it felt really good to roam the streets (albeit only for a short period of time before the craziness got to me 😫). For four days I crammed in as many friends as I could see, starting with a great backyard dinner with my old team. Having 9 different cultural backgrounds being represented leads to ever-interesting diverse conversations! 😍

On Tuesday, I had cozy lunch and dinner with my two good friends Kathryn and Lynne, both a bit senior to me hence always providing me with valuable insights that help me put things in a different perspective. 🥰 They're both great examples of how we can continue to have fulfilling lives for many years to come! 😘

Then on Wednesday, a lunch walk with Dana through my old 'hood and the Riverdale Farm, followed by relaxing tea with Natasha, Lance and their mother who I've also known since coming to Toronto and by whom I spent a memorable Christmas in Trinidad & Tobago. 🤩 In the evening, the drinks were tasty as usual when meeting with a loosely connected 😅 but somehow gelling group of Real Estate friends... always a good time!

On my last day in Toronto, I caught up with Harvey over Indian Roti and then had a few lovely hours at the new Love Park at the harbourfront. My final date was with my camping-sailing-drinking group of friends 😎 at the Queen Mother Café, a downtown thai restaurant where I used to go often in the first years. We're all a bit wiser (?!? 😂) then when we first met years ago but the laughs are still there!

Tired & having a terrible cold but feeling blessed with all those friendships, I made my way back to Dundas, where I was grateful to spend the last day with Arpita and Navneet, working a bit in the garden and playing the cool card game Dominion at night.

On the 30th September, they dropped me off to the airport, ready to fly home! 💖💖💖