#it was a total badass moment that i had to gif !!

[louloulemons-posts]

heyyy. i saw your taking logan fics. do you think you can write a fic of logan and reader but she’s very girly and bimbo like? thank you 🩷

Claws and Frills

wolverine x fem!reader

(x-men wolverine, he’s a big boy)

summary : At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, but now your the first person he finds when he returns to the mansion.

word count : 0.8k

warnings : not proofread, fluffy, petnames (reader calls logan kitty and the famous bub), readers a necromancer, mentions of violence, blood and killing, readers not really described - only her outfit , hanks a bit of a dick, very very sweet, no established relationship.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Cooing that Charles had adopted a pet ‘Kitty-cat’ when you first met one another.

It had taken him a few months to realise, you weren’t being condescending, you were truly that sweet and slightly ditzy. Saying that you had the gift of necromancy, controlling those who had passed, along with their powers if they were mutant.

Logan strolled outside of the mansion finding you, lay on your stomach reading a book, a soft lilac blanket beneath you.

A pink dress and short white cardigan hug your figure, as your pink converse lay discarded beside you, showing your white frilly socks.

“Hey Bub,” the man called out, walking over to you. With a grin you turned to him, “Kitty, come sit,” Scooting over to make room for his larger figure, the smile never left your lips.

With a soft groan he sat down next to you, laying back, hands behind his head. “How was your mission?” you asked, placing your book to the side to have your full focus on the man beside you.

With a shrug he spoke, “Went well, stopped the guys.”

“Any blood spilled?” You questioned, head cocked. “Less than last time.”

“And you?”

“Me?” Logan pulled his sunglasses down to rest on his nose, so he could meet your eyes with his own dark ones. “Did any of your blood get spilt?”

“Nothing I couldn’t heal from Bub.”

“Logan you promised-“

“Sometimes it can be helped,” he cut you off, “I did everything I could to be safe and come back to you in one piece, and look here I am.”

He motioned to his long body, dressed in a flannel, unsurprising, a pair of jeans a boots. “Well even if they killed you, you couldn’t be rid of me.”

He laughed, “You’re awful.” With a pout, you sat up on your knees, “What? I have to use my freaky-deaky powers at some point!”

“Freaky-deaky? Is that the technical term?” He smirked. With a groan you spoke, “Don’t, you sound like Hank.”

Logan’s face went serious, “What’s he said to you?” He was ready to shred that blue asshole to pieces for making you feel insecure.

“Nothing, he actually apologised. Charles told him he’d upset me. I mean I know I’m not the smartest sometimes,” Logan tried to cut you off, but you didn’t let him.

“But, I’m not stupid, we actually spent a lot of time talking about, neuroscience. Just because I’m not a total badass like Storm or Jean doesn’t mean I’m an awful hero, I just …” You sighed.

“What Bub?” Logan pushed himself up so you sat face to face. “I just don’t want to stop being myself, and my… gift already makes me feel like I have too.

“Maybe I was given the wrong one, would have been better if I could control plants or I don’t know, talk to animals.”

Logan smiled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, which you snatched away without a second thought. If it was anyone else, his claws would be out, but it was you.

“Your power doesn’t define you, you know that right? You’re you. You’re sweet and kind, and anyone or anything you’ve controlled with your powers has been as respectful as you can make it.”

“But I’ve killed.”

“And you’ve saved.”

“But-“

“Bub, you’re good, and Hank isn’t a people person, he just talks sometimes. Nobody is a special or as badass as you, I promise.”

“Not even you?”

He titled his head, thinking for a moment, “I might be a close second.”

“Third, Erik’s more scary than you … and Jean oh and Scott-“ he put a hand over your mouth.

You couldn’t help but smile against it, causing his lips to twitch upwards. He pulled his palm away, “Thank you Kitty.”

“Never have to thank me, you know that.” Leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You really are my favourite person, you know that?”

“You’re crazy,” he said making you laugh, arms coming round your waist, “But you’re my favourite too.”

Pulling away you stroked his face gently, “You’re a good man, you know that right?”

“You tell me most days. Now read to me,” he said, falling onto his back, hands going back behind his head.

Crossing your knees, you sat beside Logans figure, his eyes falling closed. One of his hands moving to stroke your leg softly. “What are we reading?”

With a smirk you spoke, “Pride and Prejudice.”

Logan groaned, “Again?!”

“Hush Kitty.”

And hush he did, listening to your soft voice hand never leaving your leg. Remaining on that soft blanket with you, until the sun began to set and the stars rise.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

i honestly can’t believe i’ve never done a logan fic but deadpool 3 brought back my obsession big time.

I hope you enjoyed.

Please leave any requests 🫶🏻

[viharbinger]

Hi there! Saw your post of Ken Sato request. I was thinking about one I have and I had a OS in mind, a Ken Sato x Fem! Reader with the Bad Boy x Good Girl trope. Similar to Rapunzel and Eugene's relationship. Reader is an amazing artist and such a Sunshine while Ken is the opposite.

It's up to you how you wanna write it. Take your time and no need to rush.

Good Girl's Bad Boy

pairings: Kenji Sato x fem!reader

a/n: I loev him so much help

warnings: erm idk, parents disapproving of Ken lol, this is fluff!!

You and Kenji started dating when you both were in LA and were teenagers. Your parents hated his guts. He was egotistical, had a big bike, got into fights often, he's basically in every parenting 101 on who your kid should not date. Despite your parents disapproval however, it didn't stop you from dating him and they can't pull you away from him anyway. So the only thing your parents can do to protest is roll their eyes at him whenever he picks you up on his bike for dates.

They did not like having him around either, but that also didn't stop him. Up to 12am when you're doing your art assignments, he would often climb up your bedroom window. And get a couple of injuries along the way.

A soft knock was heard at your window. You peer at the window away from your painting, and notice a familiar figure. It was your boyfriend, Ken. Smiling, you move to pull up the window, helping him in so he doesn't trip all over your stuff. "You just don't listen to my parents, do you?" You deadpanned, smirking. "You didn't listen when they told you not to date me." He raised his hands up in defense.

As you were watching him talk, you noticed he had fresh injuries on his cheeks. You furrowed your eyebrows, placing your hands on his cheeks to check for further injuries. "Did you get hurt getting up here? Next time just call me and I'll let you in quietly from the front door." You pouted as he places his own hands above yours. "But then it wouldn't be so thrilling, right?" He raises an eyebrow, grinning.

"You're too much." You walk away to look for your bandaids in the bathroom. Unfortunately all you had were hello kitty bandaids, but that didn't stop you from giving it to him. Placing it onto his face, you can't help but giggle at how cute he looks. "You look so silly." You laugh, covering your mouth with your palm. "What? What did you do?" He furrows his eyebrows, walking to your mirror to look at his face. "Aww, seriously?" He whines, to which you stifle your laugh.

"I think it's adorable. You're adorable." You place a firm kiss to his cheek, his ears warming and turning red from the contact. "I can't let anyone see me in this... I've got a... A reputation to live up to!" He makes up an excuse. "Oh be quiet. It wouldn't kill you to have a hello kitty bandaid. I think it's pretty badass." You reassured him. "Seriously?" He laughs for a moment before flickering his eyes to your art piece.

"What're you working on?" He asks, watching as you move to excitedly show him what you were painting. "It's a cat!" You excitedly show him, it was detailed and coloured halfway, but there were outlines to show what you wanted to paint of course. He chuckles, he loves seeing you gleam when showing your work. "Beautiful artwork, sweetheart." He presses a kiss to your forehead.

Let's not forget he has a bike. A cool one. The first time you rode on it, you were like a scared cat, holding onto his waist tightly. Your parents hated this of course, because they much prefer a well suited man with a car.

Man... You wished Kenji would've shown a little less attitude when talking to other men that showed you even the slightest attention. The amount of fights he's gotten in for you. And the amount of first aid you've had to do for him. And meeting your parents for the first time, he had a bunch of bandaids on his face and arms, looking like a total thug that fights a lot. -10000 points for him. Your parents just want their angel daughter date someone nicer, you know?

Over the years, your parents eventually accepted him because he has been getting a lot of brownie points for being a big baseball star and.... Being considerably rich. Despite your family's disagreements on this, you moved to Japan with him, as well. After taking the most confusing and unbelievable news of him having to take over Ultraman, of course.

I mean, Japan is beautiful. It's a brilliant place to start your art career— that is, what Ken says when he convinces you to move with him. Moving in the same house was one thing, but moving together to a different country was a bigger thing! Hell, you've both done so many things behind your family's back that you just went right with it.

"Oh, what the heck! Let's move to Japan." You agreed to his proposal, to which he smiled brightly, planting a sweet kiss to your lips. You can definitely see the rest of your life in Japan. Cheering for him in the stands, treating his injuries after any kaiju incidents, and morning coffees together before work... What you didn't expect was a giant pink lizard wanting Ken as her daddy.

He was so frustrated of having to take over his father's job, and stressed out, only you could reassure him. He needs a little sun in his cloudy days, AKA you. You're like the soft breeze on a hot day, or the rainbow at the end of the road!

[lockheed-martin-unofficial]

I was thinking about Cybertronians freezing in the Arctic due to the ice that forms on them instead of just the cold & not knowing what humidity is again, and what if they weren’t instantly aware of all the abilities of their alt modes?

They’d have a warmup period after scanning them and have to gradually get used to/ discover all the things they can do. There’s little to no water on cybertron, no reason for them to know that ice forms in the cold, no reason for them to have de-icing. And when they come to earth and choose aircraft as their new vehicle modes, they have no idea those aircraft come with built in warmers on the wings.

I thought about how some flying decepticons would deal with it. Let’s go with Starscream first because I love him very much.

(Also because he complains about cold the most out of all the characters. I imagine everyone ices up the same amount, but the cold is an entirely different problem and one that affects him more because he’s all thin and lanky, not very good at retaining heat. It’s worth clarifying that the freezing is what’s dangerous to them. The cold bothers them but isn’t a threat in and of itself, seeing as they can walk around in space just fine. But I ramble on)

- If he had a human friend or partner, he’d be complaining about how cold it is in front of them and they’d be like “Wait, aren’t you a plane?” He’d ask what that has to do with anything and get very annoyed that he didn’t know he came with extra heating.

- He claims he totally knew about that all along and merely forgot about it in the moment. He also claims he totally knows how to turn it on, but…remind him again?

- The realization that he can just… make himself warmer at will is incredible. He’s still gonna complain about the cold though. Probably out of instinct, he complains to fill the silence. (Is it obvious I want him to be safe and warm. I think it’s obvious.)

- Cue a concerned human asking if he’s been flying through clouds and terrible weather and all the way into the stratosphere with ice building on his wings for all this time. How is he still flying? He just replies that he’s built different, and that he’s far superior to human machines yap yap yap blah blah.

- He doesn’t want to admit how great it is, but after the human shows him how to turn it on, he’d be waking around with the de-icing turned on all day, even when he doesn’t need it. I reckon it’d make the area between his wings an excellent nap spot. He could just put a human in there and squeeze them between his wings and it’d feel like being put in one of these bad boys, I dunno what they’re called in English

In any case, peak nap spot.

Up next is Megan:

- Megatron doesn’t actually have an earth based vehicle mode, leading me to believe he wouldn’t have any form of de-icing. My headcanon is that his bigger, bulkier frame would require and generate more heat, but look at him.

He got a lot of nooks and crannies that ice could build up in. Even spikier than Starscream. Much like Starscream he doesn’t have paint which may also have acted like an extra layer of heat insulation. Additionally, his joints on the arms and legs are visible.

(Actually unsure if Starscream is painted and just gray, but Megs definitely isn’t)

- My point is, I’m not an ice expert but Megatron is terrible for both heat insulation and icing prevention. Megatron is a tough bot, he can take a lot of punches, and as prideful as he is I doubt he’d ignore the fact that a snowstorm would be a genuine threat or hinderance to him.

- Not that he’d let anyone notice, of course. He has a reputation to maintain, and he can’t allow anyone to know his weakness. When he’s in private though, I find the image of evil dictator Megs snuggled up in a billion blankets drinking a hot cocoa hilarious. I’ll probably draw it.

- A human pal or partner may not be able to advise him to turn on de-icing that he doesn’t have, but they might be able to offer him another solution. A badass cloak or cape to protect himself from the snow, while also remaining intimidating. Anyone would think it was just for show, unaware that it’s actually to keep him from freezing.

Last but certainly not least, Soundwave!

-Oh, Soundwave totally knew about the de-icing without needing anyone to mention it. Soundwave knows a lot of things. He’d totally read his own altmode’s manual. I don’t think we’ve ever seen Soundwave in the Arctic though.

Trying to find a good gif for my own reference hang on-

- I’d argue that out of these three he’s probably best with the cold. Sure, he’s spiky too, but nowhere near the other two. His “elbows” are awfully small and exposed, but since his wings form the arms there’d be no issue once he turned on the de-icing. In the gif he easily covers his entire body with those huge arms, so he could easily curl up around himself and defrost if be needed to. Now here’s a good writing idea I probably will never use

- Laserbeak probably has its own de-icing, which makes Soundwave extra warm when he requires it. ADDITIONALLY Laserbeak could be deployed in order to warm up a human friend or partner from afar. Tactical warms.

- Not much to say about Soundwave. Maybe I’ll edit and add later.

[sugudoe]

❛ 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ❜ ﾉ⠀ 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It had been a decade since the jujutsu world last heard your voice or seen your face. 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 had to deal with his emotions and conflicts by himself, and when he was nearly accepting that maybe you were dead, the unthinkable happens ── 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is the same universe as ‘𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾’ 𝗆𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗎𝗋𝗎 one shot, but obviously can be read separated (but don’t, read all of them <3), because i thought it would be cool. this one actually made me cry a lot, but as always, good ending. totally based on this song. also, i noticed i like to make the reader strong and whatever, expect more badass readers from me. mwah.

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: angst with good ending, mature content, blood, death, kidnapping, foul language, anxiety attack, self harm (picking skin), malnourishment, afab!reader (their uterus is actually important to the plot), happy ending.

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k

Gojo Satoru has had bruises and scars surrounding all of his fingers for almost a decade now. It’s a habit he picked to externalize his anxiety, much like Shoko with her cigarettes — ever since they met each-other, the girl would inhale one after the other.

When Ieiri became a doctor, her mission was to help healing the physical scars cause by either Gojo’s own hands or mouth, plucking the skin and tasting his blood, as if that could calm him. Maybe it could, he did felt relief through the pain. Shoko knew it was unhealthy and just the first steps before it all escalated to something more dangerous and difficult, so she tried to help.

“Let’s change this…” The brunette grabbed Satoru’s hands from his mouth, when he started to complain, she exchange it for a strawberry covered in chocolate. “For this.”

Soon, Shoko is reminded that Satoru can multitask. Blood and sweets merge in his mouth, the taste is addictive to him, much like something he unknowingly misses.

They both try cigarettes.

“Isn’t cigarettes as bad as this self-harm, you think I do?!” Gojo asks after burning his lungs and coughing the smoke all the way up his throat. There is a bitter taste that impregnates in his tongue, he can help but stick one of his fingers into his mouth and scratch the pink muscle. While he is at it, Gojo bites, tempted, his skin.

Shoko thinks that if Satoru is allowing all of this, that means he cares as much as she does, and he wants to be unhooked of this habit he has. One day, she suggests maybe he should focus on something else, like keeping his bed warm with a new person everyday. You’re never picking up your skin when you’re focused on somebody’s else, Shoko tells him.

Gojo turns it down the second she finishes her reasoning.

“Your pretty head is going to work harder for a new idea, Sho. Not in the mood for anyone else.” Shoko doesn’t bother slapping Satoru’s hands away from his mouth, the woman is to busy being stunned by his words.

“I thought you had move on, Gojo.” She didn’t meant to say it out loud, hence why it’s barely a whisper, but the contents of it could never scape Gojo. If the topic was you, he was always hearing, trained his ears in the hope to catch news a long time ago. “It’s been what? four years?”

“No, it’s been six, actually.” Gojo is not looking at Shoko, not at anywhere in the room but his hands, bruised and bloodied by himself. Shoko wonders if he is going to bite the whole thing off. “Six years since she has gone missing. Not a single news, she had no family, besides us, so no one has know shit.” He closed his hands in fists.

“Don’t you think she could have just gone away, Satoru?” Ieiri fidgets with her wedding ring unconsciously, the piercing blue eyes snap to the silver metal for a moment before returning to his lap, his long hand touching his necklace under the shirt. Shoko knew of your hate towards the jujutsu world and the men in power, but she was also your friend, you wouldn’t have left anyone behind, especially Gojo. “No, she didn’t.”

“Yeah, she didn’t.” Satoru grabs his glasses on the coffee table and adjust them over his eyes. To ease the pain of the six-eyes or to hide his tears, the woman wonders. “But I wish that’s what happened, y’know?” Gojo presses his thumb against the bottom of his teeth, tempted. “I would love her more if I knew she was far away, somewhere in the mountains, sleeping with dozens of blankets and a cat named Amour.”

Shoko doesn’t find her voice in that moment, is stuck besides her breaking heart and burned lungs. Gojo doesn’t seem to mind, he is lost in this calm and happier version of you he creates to ease his mind.

“If she isn’t, can you imagine? Can you imagine her dead?” Satoru slaps his hand over his mouth, and Shoko fears that’s the moment he will bite so hard the blood he is addicted to will paint himself, paint her, become physical enough to never be ignored like this situation they are right know. But none of that happens, Satoru simply try to hide his hiccups and cries.

It takes Ieiri a second to register what is happening, and when she does she jumps over the coffee table and hugs Gojo’s shaking form. In the six years since your disappearance, Satoru has never said out loud that you could be dead. The man thought such a thing was impossible, said that your curse energy was so strong anyone would feel it, Japan would lose its balance. He wondered if he had been wrong, had never noticed, because even if Satoru had spend all the time searching for you, he could have missed this. Could have missed you, and your last breath.

“Oh, please, my God.” Gojo begged the usual prayer: trade him for you, let him see you just one more time — he only needed a goodbye, a hug, a kiss. To look in your eyes and repent, to touch your skin and evaporate. Gojo Satoru would avoid death until the moment he sees you again, dead or alive.

“Gojo.” Shoko grabbed his face, removing his glasses and making him stare at her through his white eyelashes. He looked so young, the perfect mirage of how he was when Satoru learned of your missing. “She is not gone.” Ieiri hated herself for this, for trying to give him hope, something desperate to dig his claws in, unknown to the fact it was hope digging him, and when the truth would come out it could remove chunks of Satoru.

“Then where is Y/n?” Gojo whispered. “Where is she that I can’t find? Where is my love?”

Gojo Satoru became a shell of a man after that day. For the next four years he devoted his attention to anything related to you.

Becoming a good and happy teacher because he knew how much you wanted to be one, for the young sorceress who were obliged to give their lives for old men who couldn’t even thank them. Gojo’s spare time used to be for you, as well, searching Tokyo and hiring detectives all over the world, but now he promised Shoko to take some time at his penthouse. It sucks.

He holds himself against the large windows and knows you would love to see the city lights, when they would shine through your eyes and light half of your face, he would kiss you desperately. For a decade away from your lips, he still could remember how good it felt to be complete with you. The clouds reached the building some times, and he wondered if you were dead, this was your way of reaching. But whenever Gojo refused to believe in this, he would let the curtains take him away from the clouds.

Today is one of those days. And the sky is angry at him, demanding his attention with lightning and thunder — unfortunately, same as your cursed technique. Anytime a lightning falls at the city bellow him, Gojo hugs himself a bit tighter, to avoid himself from jumping to the windows, shamelessly looking for you.

His cell phone rings two times before he picks it up.

“Hey, are you alright? It’s a pretty heavy storm tonight.” Suguru asks right away, in the background there is two teen girls screaming with terror and then laughing like maniacs afterwards. “One lightning fell at the garden, the girls are going crazy. If you want to come, please do.” There is despair in his voice, and Gojo laughs at that.

“Sure, nothing better to do. Should I teleport in the middle of your living room to scare them?”

“Yes! That would be very much appreciated… Oh.” There is mumbling for a long time before Suguru returns. “Nanako is asking for you to bring her some of your snacks, the sour one, Mimiko says she want nothing but she likes the peanut butter M&M’s.” More talking in the background. “You are no bother, love, he is filthy rich.”

“Your daughters are lucky I love them.” Gojo mumbles getting up, before he moves there is a sound on his phone showing him a second number is calling. “I think Shoko is calling me, I’ll be right back at you. Tell your wife I’m bringing you and her something as well.”

“It better be good, last time you got her pineapple biscuits, what is wrong with you?”

“Those biscuits are good.”

“SHE’S ALLERGIC, SATORU.”

“OKAY, NO PINNEAPLES! WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING? Why am I screaming?” Satoru sighed before turning around from his cabinet with the pineapple biscuit.

He turned off the call with Geto who was busy with the girls to even notice. The second call was already off. Gojo shrugged, Shoko would definitely call again. Satoru was busy grabbing a random backpack is his closet when he heard his phone from the kitchen a couple of minutes later, he walked with the bag and picked the phone without seeing the id.

“Hi, you want to go to Geto’s house and prank the girls by teleportation?” Gojo starts to pack the bag, but stops when he hears no answer from Shoko, just breathing and thunder. “Wha…” Gojo takes the phone from his ears and checking the id find a random number. “Okay weirdo, this breathing thing is not really my cup of tea, know what I mean? I’m turning off now.”

“Don’t.” It’s a simple whisper, one word. It’s through the phone and the sound of wind, thunder clashes nearly at the exact same time. But Gojo hears your voice, and he doesn’t wonder if he heard right, but only if he is hallucinating, he would never forget your voice. “Please, don’t turn off.”

“Baby, please, please be you.” He has nothing else to say, no right question at this moment, the only thing in his head is you, has always been you.

“It’s me, Sato, I’m here.” He senses the smile in your voice, he can picture you with your eyes close and cuddling your face to the phone like he is doing right now. “Satoru, this is really, really important, okay? I need you to come get me now.”

Those ten years, Satoru had been waiting for this. Sensing the urgency of your words, Gojo removes his eye band.

“Tell me where you are, baby.”

Before you could answer, something snapped behind you.

“Here she is, dumb bitch couldn’t run that fast, after all. Still in our lands.” A man said causing not only yours but Satoru’s blood as well to run cold. You turned to him, admiring the blood dripping from the bite on his shoulder, your courtesy. “Let me make one thing clear, sweetheart, you’re never leaving here.” A slap followed his words. “Take her back to Naoya, he is waiting for the punishment.”

“FUCK.” A second man voice was present. “THE BITCH STOLE A PHONE.” All heads turned to him, in his hands was the object you dropped soon as you heard the men, the other line was silent but the call was still on.

“WHO WHERE YOU FUCKING CALLING?” The first man grabbed your hair, he approach his face to yours, forcing you to feel the putrid smell from his breath.

“I was ordering a pizza, asked for your favorite, no need to thank.” You stares at his nose for a moment, before launching at and biting it. Blood flows to your throat again in the day, he pushes you off and you stumble back, quickly getting up and spitting on the agonizing man. The other with the cellphone is scared, mostly due to the storms behind you, following the movements of your hands. “C’mon, I’m in the mood to a good fight.”

The man drops the phone. One step, is all he gives for you, all you allow before lighting meets him and he falls dead on the floor, a second hits the one on the floor. It takes you half a second to reach to phone, the call is still on but silent on the other side.

“Satoru?” You call worried for your lover.

“I’m here, baby.” You sigh in relief when he answers. He was coming your way, still.

“Did you heard me beating them?” You sit on the floor, under the rain who kisses your bruised skin softly, much like Gojo used to do. “I‘ve been waiting some time for this… How long was I out?”

“A long time.” Gojo answers are so short you wonder if you did the right thing by calling him. But if anything, he was the only number you had memorized, it was your only chance. When you first called him, he said something about ‘girls’ had he moved on? Are you allowed to be upset by this idea?

“Satoru, where are you?” It’s another whisper of yours he catch quick.

“I already said, baby. I’m here.”

You scrunch your eyebrows before getting up, turning your head for every direction, until you realized you had been so focused on the rain and Satoru’s voice, you didn’t catch the enormous red light over the trees and screams coming from the Zen’in clan’s houses direction.

“Stay where you are while I finish this, okay, baby?” He grunt, before you hear a punch being throw. “I‘ll come get you quick.”

You wait by the trees, sitting towards the entrance of the woods that you took off sprinting earlier. You were tired, had been years since you used your cursed technique, your muscles had gone missing after many malnourished sessions given by your kidnappers, as a lesson for disobedience, but you never stopped, never bowed down. For however long had the Zen’in Clan kept you, they never achieved their most sacred wish, the whole reason for capturing you. You were proud of that, even with your many scars and poorly healed broken bones, you were safe from the future they wanted, and now you were truly safe.

It’s silent before you see the first strands of white hair coming behind the trees. He moves gracefully with blood all over him, and you can tell none of it it’s his. Gojo keeps staring at the floor, but you know he knows you are there, standing up fast.

“Satoru?” You move towards him, but he catches your halfway, hugging your body like a cage you would have much preferred than the other you have lived. Your head is in his chest, and his is in your neck — both of you checking the other’s heartbeat, making sure it’s all real.

“If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.” Satoru says against your skin. He lifts his gaze to be met with your eyes, so pretty he smiles. “But If I do, I’ll burn the Zen’ins again. I’ll take it as a sign, you are alive, you are waiting for me.” Gojo closes his eyes and bring his forehead to yours. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“I am real, my love.” It’s you who initiates the kiss, he answers right away, hands moving to all the right places, keeping you still under him, where you have always been meant to be. Gojo doesn’t let you separate your lips, but does so when you start to giggle. “I want to leave, and after a perfect bath, we can have all the kisses in the world.”

“Do you want to see the others?”

Is a instant after your nod, and you are in the garden of a temple, hands interlock and gazes lifted, Satoru walks with you towards the entrance, he puts you behind him before getting inside a room.

“What took you so long?” You recognize Geto’s voice right away, you squeeze Gojo’s hand. “Thanks for my wife calling, Shoko and Utahime came.” Satoru is quiet in front of you. “What? Yeah, fine, I am disappointed you didn’t pranked my daughters, wife already put them to sleep anyways.” Oh, so Satoru wasn’t seeing anyone? Wait, daughters? How long you were out?

“What is it, Gojo?” Is Shoko who asks this time, but again Satoru keeps quiet. “Is that blood on you?” Your head shuffling and movement, but out of nowhere, Gojo moves to behind you, hands on your shoulders in a instant, startling everyone.

“You should check her first.” Is all he says while your old friends faces turns from shock to relief, and then tears. There is so many of those you feel your robes drenching more than before on the rain. But everything is warm, be the presence of your lover behind you or the arms of your found family, all burns away the fears of your past.

You take a shower with Satoru before returning to the living room with matching sweaters, Geto has you eating a proper meal before giving you the most extra decorated hot chocolate you had ever had. Is in his couch, under Satoru’s arm, that you start to talk.

“There was this woman many years ago, a sorcerer who could see the future, she left many letters hidden in many sealed boxes she buried all over Japan. One of those spoke about you, Satoru. She predicted your birth.” You gaze him quickly, before sipping the chocolate. “The Zen’in Clan wanted to find something about themselves, adamant she must have written when would the next sorcerer with the Ten Shadows Technique appear.”

All eyes are on you, avoidant of your trembling hands, except for Gojo, he grabs the cup from your hand and kisses your head.

“I found the boxes, it was my missions to find them for the High Ups. And I did good, but the Zen’in interfere, demanding to know just what concerned to them, and I guess someone took pity and let them read.” You gulped. “My name was on the last letter, saying that my blood was strong enough that I would bear an powerful heir, even stronger than their father. The letter specifically said who the father would be, a Gojo. with both Limitless and the Six Eyes.” You are already staring at Satoru, his eyes are all o ver your face, inspecting for the truth, there is a small smile on his face.

“I’m gonna be a cool dad.” It’s all he says before looking at your friends.

“Shut up.” You timidly said. “The thing is, the Zen’in only cared about my blood and genetics part, they thought if I give them a child, it could be the next Ten Shadows’s user. I can’t tell with certain, but I think they got the blessing from the High Ups, it was supposed to be a quick mission, even I thought it was weird, I’m always needed with weird quests. I found nothing but Zen’in Naoya, who proudly called himself my master and me his concubine.”

Your attention went to Gojo, he was biting the skin of his fingers, you grabbed his hands quickly and noticed the old scars and recent wounds, kissing all of them.

“They seized me with the help of a sorcerer from the Kamo Clan, she could power down my curse, in exchange for an heir to the Kamo’s as well, but electricity has always run on me. They learned to handle the shocks, but only for a couple of minutes. Naoya never touched me like that.” You said to calm your friends, but you as well. Had that woman been a bit more stronger, your life would have been different.

“That’s how I scape, before dinner they forgot that sorceress are humans as well, and I was left alone with her. I killed her with normal punches who turned into electrical punches. Then, I found Naoya and strike a lightning on his crouch, before I could do more damage, the others saw and i ran, grabbed his phone and called you, I thought I was going to die and needed to hear your voice.” There is tears streaming down not only your face, but everyone else’s. Your pain is being dissected in front of everyone, you had been so close all this time. “You didn’t pick up at first, but I kept trying, and you did. And it wasn’t enough, I needed to see you. So you came.”

“You called me, I will always come to you.” Satoru has you in his arms again, hugging you scared that this might all be a dream yet, he couldn’t live without you ever again, and with the way you would hold him back, he knew you felt the same.

Gojo had never been so sure of something when he made you get up from the couch with him, even confused you did and stared at your friends, their wet eyes were as confused as yours. You turn back to Satoru, and he is on one knee. Gojo hands left yours to move to his neck, removing his silver chain that was hidden under his shirt, now you see the dangling diamond ring in it. Satoru takes the ring and stares at you, hopelessly in love and devoted.

“You know I have always loved you, everyone in this room can testify to that. I knew you were alive, I knew we would see each-other again, and I promised myself that when we did met, I had to marry you.” You try hard to see Gojo through your wet vision, he smiles triumphantly even before he gives you the question. “I bought this ring after you disappeared, and it was what kept me safe, the promise that one day it would be in your finger, and your name complimented with mine. The future is what has held me, the thought of you. So please, my love, let’s start our future. Marry me?”

It’s the quickest ‘Yes’ you had ever said, you repeat it like a mantra, Gojo laughs while sliding the ring on your finger and kissing all over your hand, then he gets up and kisses you again and again and again, until Shoko, Utahime and Geto’s wife are pushing him away and hugging you, letting your fiancé to his friend.

Later that night, when the talk gets easier and calmer, with every couple holding themselves like a silent prayer of what could happen or re-happen, they take solace in their lovers. Shoko stares at Gojo and his happy smile, he looks, once more, so young. One of his hands goes straight to his lips, and Ieiri is tempted to slap it away from his teeth, but Gojo stops himself before anyone could, he simply moves one hand to your face in a love embrace and the other to touch your finger and keep spinning your ring.

The medic had been right all along, he is too busy devouring your love and attention and giving all those ten years of love he himself had kept, to focus on picking his skin. His scars would forever heal from now on, with you by his side, nothing would ever hurt again.

[warping-realities]

Animal I Have Become

Alright, I promised I wouldn’t write any more. But this one’s short and I cranked it out in less than two hours. The inspiration is obvious for anyone who’s a fan of "Karate Kid"/"Cobra Kai," since I just finished the first part of the last season. And for those worried about my studies, don’t sweat it—I was on my work shift, which I never use to study because it seems to attract all kinds of chaos. Anyway! If any quick ideas pop up, I’ll post them, but no more long stories packed with plots for a while.

I only agreed to go back to the place of my humiliation for one reason: Mikey was my best friend throughout high school until he decided, right in our senior year, to join the karate team of the new P.E. assistant teacher. Then, like magic, the skinny kid with a sharp sense of humor who could discuss everything from experimental physics to pre-Columbian American history, the guy I knew so well, was replaced by this arrogant musclehead who struggled with math and was totally incapable of having a history discussion that didn’t revolve around bragging about how today badass America was, and whose idea of a joke involved talking about tits or letting out a stinky fart. Apparently, it was a courtesy of the insane amounts of protein he started chugging to maintain his suddenly beefed-up physique. How the hell was it possible to gain that much muscle in such a short time? Maybe steroids, but the one time I asked about that, I ended up stuck under his stinky armpit. And what was up with that new nickname? “Snake!” How pretentious was that? But apparently, everyone in the group had a “badass nickname.” Ah, the joys of the standard American jock… Still, I tried to hold on to some of our friendship; God, did I try.

I even agreed to join a couple of those damn team practices, knowing damn well I didn’t have the physique, the skills, and maybe most importantly, the real desire to be there. I ended up getting ridiculed by everyone, including my so-called best friend.

I should’ve never talked to him again after that week of “practices.” But, being the idiot I am, all it took was a poorly worded apology full of grammatical mistakes that my brain refuses to recreate:

“Sorry, bro, the sensei got pissed at the guys when he heard their jokes about the size of your… well, you know. He wants you to meet us in the locker room today so we can apologize the right way. If you don’t show up, he’s gonna make us skip training for the whole week. Come on, please, for our friendship!”

… and there I was in that locker room. I should’ve left those morons without practice, but I decided to be the good samaritan.

Walking into that crap hole, what a surprise! It was empty. The pungent stench of sweat filled the room and humidity on the walls made it feel like the locker room was actually a beast whose musk drips off its body after a vigorous workout. But that didn’t matter; apparently, either the coach didn’t give a damn about what happened, which I should’ve figured, since he was just an older version of the ogre crew he trained, or he didn’t even know what went down, and I was about to be the victim of another lame prank.

Thinking about the danger, I quickly turned to leave. Then I noticed… on the other side of the room, hanging on one of the lockers… had that been there before? A piece of red fabric… oh, of course. A red gi from the team; they even gave themselves a pretentious name…. The fight practice was happening right at that moment. It was hard to think about it. I said so much crap about the team on TikTok and Instagram, tarnishing the reputation of the strong and disciplined image they worked so hard to create outside those walls that they probably hated my guts now. All those arrogant alpha dogs were arrogant and obnoxious. What the hell was I thinking trying to fit in? Nerdy little dudes like me didn’t really belong there. Even the jokes about my dick; if I were one of them, I’d just throw a punch or come back with some barbaric, macho comeback and everything would be cool. But I wasn’t like that, and my frustration with all of it was proof of that.

I never really liked the Gi. That red color always seemed way too aggressive, and for some reason, it always looked oversized on me, with sleeves and pants that were way too long and baggy. I had to wrap the belt around me twice just to keep it from falling off my skinny frame. Apparently, it never crossed the sensei’s mind that a little guy like me would have the audacity to try to join his team. Thinking about it, it wasn’t that I didn’t like the Gi; I hated it. It represented everything I despised about that bunch of trolls and also my lost friendship.

I stepped back and slowly turned my head back to the locker with the gi. Did it belong to someone? normally they were used by any of the team's bodies, one size fits all, or almost, when I was still there... anyway... after training they went straight to the laundry before returning for the next training session. Not that any washing would really get rid of the complete animalistic musk that infested their fabric. So why would someone leave it here?

Not my fucking problem. Probably just a spare or something. I think, walking resolutely toward the door, and I crack it open slightly. I turn back. I guess there’s no one using it. That means someone’s gonna grab it soon. Something’s bugging me. But what is it? I get closer, the musk intensifying. That gi definitely isn’t new and hasn’t been washed recently. And what’s this? There’s a note along with it. I sit on the nearby bench to read.

“Sorry, bro, today’s practice was super important, and the sensei didn’t want to wait for you. But he left your gi here. Put it on and come train; this time it’ll be different, I promise. Trust me, for old times’ sake.”

Old times? Maybe… maybe I should give it a shot. God, what a weird thought. Why would I want to do that? But while I’m thinking about it, my feet are already moving me to stand up and head toward the locker, while my hands are grabbing my shirt and pulling it up. I should stop. I need to stop. I should leave now, but the shirt comes off and goes over my head, landing on the floor. My pants are unbuttoned, and soon they join the shirt. I really should stop. Why do I want this? It’d be better to stop, but soon I’m in my boxers holding the gi in front of me. First, I put one leg in... then the other... then the arms, and then the belt… why is it black? I wonder, confused… but then that consuming need fades away.

I look at myself. As always, it doesn’t fit. I look like a kid wearing his dad’s suit at some event. I sit back down on the bench. Alright, that strange urgency is satisfied. So now I can just take this damn thing off!

But I don’t want to, for some strange reason. I feel more comfortable than ever. It’s like that mismatched uniform was made for me. My delicate hands wander over the ill-fitting outfit, the long sleeves sliding down my shoulders. I try to adjust them back into place, but they stop midway as I start to feel the material against my skin. The feeling of power it gives me… the feeling of strength… was it really this good when I was practicing? No, definitely not; if it was, I wouldn’t have quit. Man, this feels amazing... I feel the weight of the gi on me, both real and metaphorical… the weight of what it represents… my hands roam over its wide shape… it’s not just a uniform… it’s an armor… a sacred cloak… this is so cool… I can hear them in the training room… too bad I can’t join them... I wish I could... and they asked... didn’t they? I shift a bit on the bench and let my arms fall to my sides. Weird, I didn’t seem that far from the ground before. I feel cozy; the sweat smell doesn’t bother me, the whole atmosphere feels familiar, even comforting, like coming home after a long day and sitting in your favorite chair. I feel dizzy, like I’m about to fall asleep...

My rational mind, or what’s left of it, doesn’t notice. But unconsciously, I do… my muscles are slowly expanding, my skinny body pushing against the bench while my hands gently massage my slightly protruding belly that’s slowly flattening, the little bit of fat there seeming to be sucked in with every circle my hand makes. My shoulders are also widening, getting broader, as I grunt happily, a tingling sensation creeping up my body.

Feeling that, my eyes suddenly open, a jolt waking me up a bit from that stupor. What the hell was that? I look at my belly, and it’s widening as I’m hit with shock. I’m getting ripped! My hands trace the outline of my abs as the little muscle blocks there grow and harden, turning into six distinct shapes. As I stare at that in fascination, the stupor hits me harder.

The rigid stones of my abs aren’t the only things getting harder. My arms and legs are swelling with new muscle, keeping pace with my ever-growing body. And, well... I gently pat my groin. It’s definitely there too… a solid extra four inches, and still soft… As my body keeps expanding, the sensation turns pleasurable, like scratching an itch that’s been bugging you for ages, so I let it wash over me. My mouth opens in a gasp, drool spilling out as I pant like a dog. For some reason, it’s easier to breathe like this. Maybe because my nose is breaking and reforming a few times without me even noticing? As the drool runs down my pecs, I bring my hand to them and feel them grow, making my hands look tiny in comparison to the two meat packages they become. I shake my hand a bit, sending the drool flying, and with each shake, I see it grow too, turning into a massive paw, perfect for smashing some unsuspecting fool. Looking at that seems… really good… and I laugh. And out of nowhere, the other hand starts growing too, while my feet expand like crazy. My size eight shoes will never fit those paws; what size are they now? 14? Or maybe 15? A good kick with those surfboards and you’re down for the count… cool… hehehe...

No, not cool, not cool at all! This damn outfit is doing something to me! I stand up and grab the gi by the sleeves at my shoulders, ready to rip it off, and then…. I fall back onto the bench, my eyes unfocused again as a sudden wave of pleasure hits me like a tsunami. Yeah, a torrent of testosterone floods my body as my jawline becomes prominent, my chin broadens, and little tufts of freshly trimmed hair cover my chest and armpits. My mouth opens again, drool spilling out as my neck thickens, and my Adam’s apple sticks out, while my forehead becomes more pronounced, with low brows creating a scowl that makes it look like I’m always ready to fight, and my hair gets shaved on the sides, completing the look of a total douchebag. I try to care, I try to fight... fight... good… fights is good... no… not fight like this... I start to lift my arm, now powerful and making the gi look slightly tight… my biceps must be huge… hehhe… then it drops again… I look at my altered reflection in the mirror and see someone who could easily roll with Samue… Snake and the other guys… who knows, maybe now it’ll end… maybe I’ll finally break free from this stupor and get out of here… But then the real nightmare begins, as a web of powerful veins snakes through the swollen muscles of my body, a myriad of intrusive thoughts starts to slowly shape my mind, no matter how hard I try to resist. They break through my defenses with such force that my illusions shatter quickly as I start to forget. Memories of long hours of studying slowly morph into party after party with my friends, working out with them, training with them, watching my body swell and grow; time spent on pop culture becomes time spent watching football, hours and hours perfecting my college resume turns into hours and hours of sweat and sacrifice perfecting my fighting technique to the point of perfection. Just like my friends. Just like the sensei taught us to be. And we owe it all to sensei. Especially since he’s gonna figure out a way to get me into college, get all of us, in every corner of the country, ensuring that his teachings are passed on. Just one of us in any student group or, better yet, a fraternity, and boom, a new crew of brothers ready to spread the word… ha… word… funny… as if we needed to talk… no… our way is the way of the fist!

Shit, I can’t believe I slept through practice! Sensei is gonna rip me a new one! I shouldn’t have hooked up with those hot girls from college with Snake last night… dude, I couldn’t miss that hookup… I’ll just have to take the sensei’s punishment like a man… and I AM THE MAN!”

I stand up and groan, my voice deeper, with a bit of a growl. I turn toward the door, bracing for sensei’s yelling… Eh, screw him. He’ll put on his show about my tardiness, and I’ll play my part as the remorseful kid, and everything will be fine. It’s not like I skipped out or, God forbid, quit the team; I can’t even imagine the things he’d do to a damn deserter. I stretch a bit, admire myself in the mirror… Mad Dawg, you’re so swole… damn… you big, hot son of a bitch!

And then I finally walk toward the training room to join my brother’s in arms. Today’s practice is gonna be awesome; I can feel it, but honestly, it always is; I was born for this.

[dreamywriter143]

Could I request a Neteyam x Reader and its like the beach scene where him and Loak get into a fight with Aonung and his friends? I dont have a plot in mind and I just have this scene in mind! lmk if u need ideas! xo

Badass

Status: Request by Anon

Genre: FLUFF, Some violence. Neteyam being speechless.

Warnings: Depictions of blood, fights and cursing.

Parings: Neteyam X Metkayina Reader (Y/n)

Summary: Upon first meeting Y/n, Neteyam was awe-stricken. Such a beautiful, elegant and poise Na’vi. He was entranced before he could even stutter out a hello. Now facing the challenges of fitting into the Metkayina, Neteyam is thrown into another loop seeing Y/n’s fierce side. He finally understood the meaning of a word his father said from time to time. Badass.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you for your request Anon!! I totally agree, the beach scene was so good. Neteyam was so cool in that scene😍. I hope you like how I added to your request. Also, I suck at writing action scenes. So, please excuse that!! Enjoy!!!

———————————————————————-----

The day Neteyam met Y/n, was unlike any other. 

Feeling fear for his family's safety amongst a clan he heard very little about, Neteyam felt out of place. Being stripped of everything he knew growing up he felt utterly bare as the dreadful feeling weighed down on his shoulders greatly. Neteyam’s eyes wandered aimlessly amongst the new clan his family seeked refuge upon. 

The nagging feeling of being watched, of being analyzed so critically set an unsettling feeling deep within his stomach. If he could, Neteyam would cover his family from the harsh glares the onlookers sent their way. It didn't help when two boys around their age came up towards them mocking their apperence, specifically Neteyam’s appearance. 

He felt uneasy as they commented on their physique, the difference between them. Every fiber in his body stood to respond back, to put them in their place for blatantly disrespecting his family in such an outlandish way. But before he could utter a single word, an angel appeared. 

At least that's what he thought when she graciously walked through the crowd soundlessly. The crowd seemed to move around her, giving her space to walk through them. Like her presence alone demanded respect. She held herself proudly, her beautiful curly locks falling past her shoulders as they swayed along with her steps. She sent a quick smack to the shorter boy before hissing their names in warning. When she turned to him, Neteyam felt the wind being knocked out of him. 

Staring at him out of curiosity were beautiful e/c hues, the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They didn't stare at him in fear or disgust, but in curiosity and concern. He could feel himself clam down under her stare alone, his shoulders relaxing significantly as they made eye contact. Her face was adorned with white freckles and markings that seem to only enhance her beauty, a beautifully crafted necklace hanging around her neck. The small smile she sent his way only increased the fluttery feeling in him, his palms began to sweat as he shakily reached up to greet her. Thankfully she returned it easily, a smile formed on her face. Before Neteyam could savor the small moment the chief flew over them, demanding attention. 

When Neteyam caught his little brother openly gawking at another female who walked up to his angel, he knew they were special. Both girls watched him and his family with kind and sincere smiles. They made his heart feel a little lighter, she made him feel lighter. 

After both girls showed his family their new home and Neteyam could have sworn she was the definition of perfection. The way she graciously walked and showed them their home, the way she held herself just expressed elegance and poise. She was respectively polite to his family, her eyes warm with sincerity. She had a charm about her that Neteyam couldn't help but be attracted to. She was a textbook of what a princess would be, a word he heard his father use towards his sisters. 

Neteyam was quite shocked to find out she wasn't the chief's daughter, but the older sister to the shorter male, Rotxo, who was his siblings diving instructor. She was being trained as a Tsahìk under Ronal as she showed great promise, Neteyam had found out after asking about her from Tsireya. 

It came with great disappointment when he realized she wouldn't be helping them with their lessons as they desperately tried to adapt to the sea. But luckily, the disappointment didn't last long.

“How are the Numeyu’s??” (Students) Y/n asks teasingly, taking a seat in between her brother and Neteyam as they were in the middle of breathing exercises. Neteyam immediately sat up straighter in her presence, he hadn't even heard her footsteps when she snuck up on them. She would make for a great hunter, but she didn't seem to have that air about her. She seemed so calm, so quiet. She didn't seem to have it in her to even hurt a fly.

“Great! Neteyam and Kiri are doing exceptionally well” Rotxo praises, his eyes traveling to Kiri who looks away. The small purple hue along her cheeks going unnoticed. Y/n’s ears perk up at her brother's words. 

Rotxo was one of the best free diver instructors they had around their age group. His praise meant alot. Especially to Y/n, who held her younger brother on a high pedestal. She turns to Neteyam whose eyes were already trained on her, a smug smile twitching along his lips. 

“Oh? That's impressive” Y/n notes, grinning at the boy who she grew close with over the past few weeks. Neteyam and Y/n immediately hit it off, though they barely had interactions as Y/n was always busy shadowing Ronal, the moments they did share only made them realize their similarities. Being the eldest and holding many responsibilities on their shoulders. They bonded over the matter, growing quite close.

With Neteyam and Y/n always teasing each other, almost bordering that of flirting. 

“Guess I'm a quick learner” Neteyam offers, a cheeky smile breaking through. Y/n tilts her head back as a silvery laugh escapes her lips. Neteyam’s eyes widened at the sound, a sound he swore he would burn deep into his soul. 

“That's good to hear, I guess you won't be needing my expertise?” she teases, her eyes crinkling in delight. Neteyam quickly shakes his head. He didn’t want her to think she wasn’t needed.

“N-No! I mean, we’ll still need your h-help. We have a lot to learn” Neteyam stutters out. He didn't know what it was about her that always left him a stuttering and embarrassed mess. He ignores the giggles that erupt around him at his hurried response. Y/n simply smiles, a smile that rivaled the sun itself in Neteyam’s eyes.

“I guess I will stay after all, Forest Boy” she teases, sending a small wink.

Truth be told the nickname had bothered Neteyam at first, he didn't like being called that especially by Ao’nung. But whenever it came from Y/n’s lips it sounded endearing, almost heavenly. 

It didn't take long for Y/n to tag along during lessons often, always offering helpful advice that aided the Sully’s. She also grew very close with all the siblings, immediately clicking with Kiri. The girls could go on and on about the beauty the nature around them offered. Kiri always shared stories of their home as well as herbs and remedies they used. Y/n always seemed eager to learn more, showing Kiri some of the techniques they would use here. 

The bond she grew with Tuk only caused Neteyam to fall deeper in love with her. Always watching the duo from afar with a lovesick expression. Tuk adorned her, claiming to become like her as she grew up. Neteyam couldn't help but start having fantasies about what it would be like to have a family with her. She seemed to love children, a motherly aura radiating off her. 

Neteyam’s feelings for Y/n would only grow, the female Na’vi proving to be a force to be reckoned with.

~~~~~

It had been like any other day, Neteyam set off early to sneak in some extra practice with his Iiu as he wanted to impress a certain h/c Na’vi. Just as he was about to call it a day the sound of arguing catches his attention as he races to shore. A specific voice stood out as he recognized it immediately which only pushed him to walk faster. 

Lo’ak.

Neteyam stomps towards the group noting how Kiri stood to the side, her arms crossed over as if to cover herself. The group had circled Lo’ak, pulling and prodding at him. Neteyam rushes in, shoving Ao’nung off his brother with force. He creates distance between them and his siblings, his glare unwavering.

“You heard what she said-'' Neteyam growls, his eyes solely on Ao’nung who steps back. “-leave them alone”. 

The commotion had gotten the attention of some Na’vi nearby, specifically a certain female Na’vi who rushed towards them in a hurry. 

“Back off…..Now” Neteyam presses his finger against Ao’nnung’s chest, pushing him back. He ignores the attempt his friends takes as Ao’nung silenced him by raising his hand. He had a smug smirk on his lips but chose not to retaliate against Neteyam.

 “Smart choice” Neteyam acknowledges. His ears twitched to the sound of hurried footsteps, turning to see Y/n, her face flush with color as she ran towards the group. She stops in front of them, her eyes darting between Ao’nung and Neteyam. 

Neteyam glances back at his sister who looked to the ground in sadness. He felt his anger bubble inside of him as he turned back to the group. “And I need you to respect my sister” he adds, dismissing the hiss that is sent his way. He looks at Y/n who had an apologetic frown on her face. Netreyam nods at her, his lips forming in a thin line. He pulls Lo’ak with him so they could leave. 

“Ao’nung, you skxawng!!” Y/n hisses, stopping the Sully’s who stare at her in surprise. Y/n was always collected, calm and kind. The venom that dripped from her tone alarmed them all. Ao’nung seemed like the only one unfazed. 

“What will your father say! This is low, even for you.” she hisses, taking a step towards Ao’nung who scoffs at her words. He keeps his mouth shut, his eyes glancing at Lo’ak. He sends a mocking smile that seems to rile the younger Sully who pulls away from his brother's hold. Neteyam goes to pull him back but he's already walking back to the group. 

“What would Rotxo think? Yaymak ‘evan!!” (Foolish boy) The girl hisses, her tail swishing behind her angrily, thumping against the sand. Her e/c eyes scan over the friends, her disappointment evident as she hisses in anger. Ao’nung huffs in annoyance, shrugging it off. He smirks wide as Lo’ak walks closer to them. 

“So? Why would I care? That's what they are, isn't it? They’re freaks, the whole family” 

What happened next no one present would ever believe, not in a million years. Y/n’s hand juts out landing a powerful punch square against Ao’nung’s jaw. A sickening crack is heard as her clenched fist collides with him. Ao’nung stumbles back, his eyes dazed as if he didnt know what had hit him. Y/n quickly follows it by landing a swift kick against his stomach sending him tumbling against his friends as they all fall against the sandy floor beneath them. 

“Watch. Your. Mouth.” Y/n huffs out, her eyes burning with anger as she clenches her fist. The friends get up, snarling as they  lunge after her. Lo’ak quickly joins in, landing a punch of his own on one of the male Na’vi who hisses at him. Y/n gets roughly tackled onto the floor but she is quick to recover as she flips Ao’nung over straddling his hips. He struggles under her as she punches him, holding one of his arms back not to land anything on her. 

“Neteyam! Help them!” Kiri yells hysterically, turning to her brother. 

Neteyam stood frozen in his spot, his eyes wide as he watched in pure amazement. All he could focus on was the drastic change he witnessed in Y/n. Someone he thought was too elegant, get violent. Violent to the point she punched Ao’nung and was able to take on the rest with ease. All to protect his family's honor. 

Neteyam’s mouth hung low as shock washes over him, his eyes following how Y/n had now moved onto the other Na’vi. He drank in how she elegantly avoided getting hit but landing her own hits with brutal force. She looked fierce and strong. She reminded him of his mother, beautiful yet deadly. Words that his father had used to describe his mother ringing through his head as he finally understands its full meaning. Y/n was a complete-

“-Badass'' Neteyam whispers. 

He finally understood what it meant, she was the definition of intimidating. Every hit was calculated and precise. That of a skilled fighter. Neteyam was in awe, and if he thought he couldn't grow to love her more, boy was he wrong. 

It is only when Lo’ak screams in pain is he finally brought back to reality.

Neteyam quickly runs back to the group, pushing the Na’vi who tried to choke his brother. As he lands a kick on his stomach he slides right up against Y/n, who is smirking at him. The butterflies in his stomach increase at their close proximity. She looked utterly beautiful with her hair disarray, heavy breaths racking through her body.

It was at this moment Neteyam realized he had met his match, his perfect match.

“Show me what you got, Forest Boy” 

__________________________________________

A/N: I'm sorry for the poorly written action scene. I cannot seem to make them descriptive enough! I'm sorry for that but I hope you guys enjoyed!

[cauliflowercounty]

Knives Dance (Part III)

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

Summary: It was hard to have a prose summary so here are some bullets of what’s happening in part 3

Baron Feyd missing you + heartfelt reunion 

Feyd being totally infatuated with you

SCIENCE!!! and POLITICS!!!

Rabban being pitiful

Reader being a badass

Feyd vs Paul on Arrakis (what will happen? You’ll never knowww… [unless you read this chapter **wink, wink, wink**]

Warnings: Violence, blood, death (woohoo)

Word Count: 10.3k (whoops… I went typey-type)

A/N: I wanted to say a sincere thanks to everyone who's read Knives Dance up to this point. This series is some of the most fun I've had writing in a long, long time. Sending lots of love your way :)

Part I | Part II | Part III

--

Stirring gently in his bed, Feyd recoils slightly as the light from Giedi Prime’s black sun hits his eye line through the wall of windows that separate his bedroom from the private balcony that overlooks the cityscape.  He extends his arm to your side of the bed and runs his hand languidly across the surface, feeling the cool, silky sheets under his fingertips. His heart feels heavy in his chest, and he lets out a low growl of frustration into his pillow. It has been a long three weeks without you.  

You’ve been off-world on a visit to Youra to see your father and bring back equipment for the laboratory you’re constructing on Giedi Prime. He knows that he doesn’t have to worry about your safety because he insisted on a full Harkonnen security detail accompanying you, which should have put his mind at ease, but he’s laid awake each night since your departure, staring at the ceiling and trying not to think of disasters befalling you during your travels. One night it’s asteroids colliding with your ship, tearing gaping holes in the walls, and sucking you into the vacuum of space. Another, it’s an ambush by an undiscovered society, hellbent on killing alien peoples for sport. Perhaps a novel virus wiping out the entire population of Youra and you with it in a matter of days?  No farfetched scenarios were off limits when Feyd allowed his mind to wander.

The foreign feeling of loss due to your absence has not only plagued him with anxiety, but allowed Feyd to slip into a state of abject melancholia. None of his old vices have come close to fulfilling him, let alone make him feel much of anything.  Watching his servants cower in fear or making foreign ambassadors quake in their seats wasn’t giving him the same gratification as it once had.  Even hearing the roar of the crowds in the arena didn't given him any satisfaction. Everything had felt unbearably pedestrian. The only thing that brought a smile to his face was the thought of having the other half of his bed full again and listening to your tranquil voice. With every passing moment, he’s yearned for the life you had built together on Giedi Prime to resume.

Your mornings together were simple and easy. They were a time when he could always experience a drop of serenity within the political quagmire he’d gotten himself into since assuming the title of Baron. He’d wake up with you already in his embrace, your head laid delicately on his chest. He'd listen to your soft breathing and savor the way your limbs would entangle with his. The image of you blinking your eyes open to look at him with the special glimmer of affection reserved just for him never failed to make his heart flutter. 

Overtime, Feyd noticed you had been taking very well to Harkonnen dresses, which you now wore more often than not. He had the best seamstresses on Giedi Prime make and tailor custom outfits for you, though he didn’t expect you to always wear them, knowing how important your heritage was for you.  Nevertheless, you continued to grab one of the black gowns from your shared closet for your daily tasks and tell him with a smile “I’m Baroness Harkonnen now.  Shouldn’t I dress the part?”

Before leaving your quarters each day, Feyd always took the opportunity to take your hand in his and bring you in front of the floor length mirror in your shared closet. With his hands around your waist, he would pepper gentle kisses from your cheeks down your neck, whispering in your ear “you are a vision today, my Baroness.” You'd always smile and blush bashfully in return, returning his kisses in kind. Moments like those when it was just the two of you had become one of his favorite parts of the day.

You made the meetings, filled with diplomats groveling to win his favor, bearable. How he loved to watch you as you sat on the grand Harkonnen throne beside him. You never failed to command the room with your head held high. Power and dignity seemed to drip off of your being and fill every room you entered. You were truly worthy of the title of Baroness, and with every passing day and every interaction, there was more and more for Feyd to admire about you.

In private, you took to training together, where he would bask in your shared might. With every blow he endured from you, all he could think about was that he, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, was the only person alive to witness you so animated with ferocity and passion from battle, as all others who have seen you this way have been slain and buried. Sparring sessions between the two of you almost always ended with you both on the floor, limbs entwined and chests heaving after one of you would get the best of the other and take the opportunity to pin the other to the floor. 

At the end of the day, you'd always assume your position on the balcony in a flowy, white nightgown. With a gentle gesture, you’d beckon him to accompany you while you observe your shared domain, watching the shuttles flying through the gaps in the dark architecture and the stark white floodlights passing over the cityscape.  He’d hold you close by your waist and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you start to shiver from the evening chill, at which point he’d tug at your waist to take you back to the bedroom to retire for the night. Every day, Feyd was falling deeper and deeper into you, and he’s loved every moment. 

Bringing himself upright, Feyd stretches his arms and stands up, walking over to the closet. Across from his sets of Harkonnen formalwear and battle gear, your gowns are neatly hung. Half of them are the sleek, black Harkonnen designs he had made for you. The other half are gorgeously vibrant Youran gowns. He sighs, imagining sharing one of your moments again in front of the mirror like always, but alas, you are not beside him. Once he’s dressed, he emerges from his quarters and is met with a nameless servant.

“Good morning, Baron,” the servant says, bowing deeply and trying not to give Feyd an excuse to kill him. “I am here to inform you that we have received a signal from the Baroness’s craft.  Her arrival is imminent.”

Hearing those words, Feyd turns on his heel toward the landing docks, dismissing the servant who heaves a sigh of relief because his head is thankfully still connected to the rest of his body. As Feyd walks the halls, his pace quickens, feeling the anticipation rise in his chest. People bow and salute him in the hallways, but he doesn’t pay them any attention. He’s too preoccupied with his thoughts of you; he can already smell the aroma of rainforest flowers you carry around with you. The thought that he’s so close to having you near again nearly drives him mad. 

When he arrives at the landing docks, the fleet of Harkonnen vessels is already touching down. As he hears the machinery’s loud whirring die, the ramps of all the crafts to meet the floor. Lines of Harkonnen soldiers file out first, each soldier with weapons in arms. The steady pulse of their synchronized footsteps echoes through the space with perfect adherence to Harkonnen military standards is satisfactory for Feyd. The commander in front barks orders, and the guards immediately step into formation, making an aisle that extends between Feyd and the craft closest to him. 

He is at a loss for words when he sees you walk down the ramp. You are undeniably gorgeous in Harkonnen clothes, but you look positively ethereal in the Youran gown and golden headdress that adorn your body today. Instead of shrouding yourself in the cloak you’ve worn in the past to hide your weaponry, you’re wearing a traditional dress reserved only for Youra’s utmost nobility. Layers of sheer, olive and cerulean fabric flare behind you to create your dress’s skirt out from under a ribbed bronze and mahogany corset.  Seeing how it’s cinched your waist and accented your silhouette, all Feyd wants to do is hold you and drag his fingers up and down the length of your figure.

Through the abundance of delicate golden chains that are symmetrically draped over your exposed shoulders and chest, Feyd can see how the corset and the off the shoulder neckline cradles your breasts in a way that makes him feel lightheaded. The entire skirt of the dress is decorated in dazzling embellishments and the characteristic Youran golden thread that Feyd has come to love on you. The fabric of the train seems to flow like water behind you as you walk.  

The high front hemline of the gown that ends at your upper thighs gives Feyd a good look at your legs, the lengths of which are delicately wrapped in the thin, tan ribbons from your sandals. The crosshatched pattern of the ribbons allows him to see just how beautifully your legs are sculpted from years of training and exploration. The sight makes his mouth water. He is truly breathless gazing upon you, his Baroness.

You return his affectionate gaze and call his name excitedly, reaching down and bunching up your skirt in your grasp before breaking into a run between the lines of Harkonnen guards. Your footsteps are the only noise reverberating throughout the area. Before he even realizes it, Feyd’s running for you, too. As you approach each other, he extends his arms out to you, and you leap into them, wrapping your legs around his waist. As he lifts you up into his arms, he spins you both around as you nuzzle yourself deeper into his hold.

Your grips on each other are desperate. Without a moment to waste, he cups your cheek with one hand as the other holds you tightly by the small of your back. A tear threatens to fall from his eyes as he considers saying that he hopes that you’ve missed him, but the look in your eyes already tells him the answer. This is truly happiness like he’s never experienced before. It washes over him when you finally bring your lips to meet his. His breath is warm against yours as he exhales into the kiss in satisfaction. He feels your hands come up to clutch the back of his head to deepen your kiss and growls hungrily, quickly losing himself in your embrace while attempting to resist the urge to devour you on the spot. His brow furrows when you finally break for air.

“Hello, my love,” you whisper softly, pressing your forehead against his, as if what you’re saying is a secret meant for only his ears. He grins at the pet name you’ve picked for him.  “How have things been at home?” Your words make Feyd pause. Were you calling Giedi Prime “home?” 

“Everything has been adequate,” Feyd says, kissing you again. “But I do prefer it when my Baroness is beside me.”

“I guess you’re in luck then,” you smile at his words. You rest your hands on his chest, feeling his prominent pectoral muscles underneath his shirt which makes him sigh in satisfaction. You swiftly squash the temptation to kiss him again as you meet his gaze because if you do, you’d never want to stop. Feyd sets you down, even though he’d gladly carry you all day wherever you want. 

“My father sends his regards. He’s very pleased with House Harkonnen. He also sends his condolences at your uncle’s passing,” you say, which makes Feyd scoff silently to himself. “I’ve also gathered all I need for the laboratory.  I hope I didn’t bring too much back with me. I hope it’s not a burden…” you trail off.

“You could never be a burden. We have plenty of servants. They can handle the labor,” Feyd assures as he turns to one of the closest guards. “Start unloading the Baroness’s things. You know where to take them. Don’t you dare damage any of it. There will be repercussions if anything is found broken.”

“Yes, My Lord,” the guard responds before beginning to bark orders to the others. One by one, the guards disappear into the vessel, and emerge moments later, carrying large wooden crates by the bronze colored handles attached to the sides of each. They all file out and disappear into the fortress, headed for your lab. 

“So,” Feyd says, turning back to you. “Home is Giedi Prime now? I wouldn’t have expected you to call anywhere but Youra home. It’s not that I’m unsatisfied that you’ve found comfort on Giedi Prime, but I was surprised to hear you say those words.”

You smile and glance down at the ground before looking back to him, responding. “Younger me would have agreed with you. Youra is my first home and will forever be such. However, my feelings have changed. Home is wherever you are,” you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. At your words, Feyd pulls you in again by the waist for another quick kiss, and he wonders what he did to deserve a wife like you as you both turn to follow your belongings. 

Weeks ago, you and Feyd had set aside the largest of Baron Vladimir’s personal recreation spaces to be converted to a laboratory for you on Giedi Prime. You both had celebrated the initiation of the transformation by gathering all the Baron’s belongings and smashing them to smithereens, which was quite cathartic for the both of you. In particular, you loved bashing Vladimir’s pipe and ripping his bathtubs apart piece by piece. The day of eradicating every trace of Vladimir, except for his portrait in the hallway, culminated in you both basking in the warmth of a glorious bonfire, fed by what remained of the Baron’s belongings. 

You both arrive at your laboratory. The Harkonnen workers have been very efficient installing the necessary infrastructure in the time you have been away. The room that was stripped to the bones the day you left for Youra is now a proper lab, outfitted with fireproof surfaces, chemical hoods, gas lines, and plenty of storage cabinets.  

“Wow, Feyd,” you say. “This is amazing. I can’t believe this got done in the time I was gone.”

“Only the best for you, my love,” he replies as more servants arrive, and you begin to instruct them how to unpack your belongings. Feyd stands back on the sidelines and watches you, seeing the sparkle in your eyes now that you’re able to bring part of your life from Youra to Giedi Prime. Many of the instruments and objects he sees being unpacked are unfamiliar to him, but you seem unphased, perhaps even comforted, by the diversity of items. He marvels at your proficiency with handling all of them. With the help of the servants, you quickly have all the crates unloaded and the items put away and organized. You dismiss all the workers promptly, so you and Feyd can be alone. Once the doors are closed, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Is the space to your liking?” Feyd asks, coming to your side and slipping his arm firmly around your waist.

“It’s perfect,” you reply, looking around with elation in your eyes. You reach into a drawer in front of you and take out a jar. Inside, he sees it’s full of the iridescent indigo scales of the fish you had shown him the night you were attacked on Youra. “I wanted to wait until I got back to Giedi Prime to do the extraction on the scales for your batch of the elixir. …Would you like to stay while it happens?” 

Feyd nods without hesitation. He knows that watching you work is something only the people closest to you ever get to see. “Of course, my love.  It would be my pleasure,” he says. You smile at him, delighted at his interest. You point to a little door in the corner and tell him to wait for you before disappearing into it. A few minutes later, you emerge having shed your gown and jewels for a tan lab coat. When you smooth your hands over the new coat, Feyd thinks to himself how put together you look. You seem even more at ease now that you’ve changed. In your arms, he sees another coat and two pairs of safety glasses. 

“To protect your clothes and eyes,” you say, walking over and handing him the other coat and one of the pairs of glasses.  Inside the coat, he sees “Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen” delicately stitched in with golden lettering.  As he puts it on, he realizes it’s been tailored to his measurements perfectly at your behest. His heart swells once again. Your foresight is obvious to him. Beside him, you take out a mortar and pestle and pour a few of the scales into the mortar. He hears the scales clatter like pebbles against one another as they fall. 

Over your shoulder, Feyd can finally get a closer look at the scales from the fish you had shown him. The scales are shaped like rounded trapezoids and glimmer even in the artificial indoor lighting. Through the striking coloration, he can see delicate silver ribs that flare out from the narrower end of the scales, making each scale look like a pocket of moonlight rays shining through an inky night sky.  Feyd thinks how it’s truly a wonder how nature produced such a creature that bears such beauty.

You grasp the pestle in your hand and start striking the scales with firm, downward motions. Upon impact, the scales fracture at the ribs. Little by little, the scales become smaller, and you change your technique, beginning to roll the pestle around the bottom and up the sides of the mortar. You reverse the direction of the circle every few times. Because of your expert hand, the scales are soon reduced to a fine powder in the bottom of the mortar.  The dust glistens beautifully as you pick up the mortar and tip it around in a rolling motion, observing the results of your grinding.

“It’s time to perform the extraction and then the purification. Hopefully the crystals will be well formed,” you say to him, taking the mortar over to the fume hood behind the two of you and flipping the on switch to the hood.  “Have you ever watched any of your scientists work before?”

Feyd shakes his head as he follows you, memories of his childhood passing through his mind. “My uncle always instructed me to remain in the arena and the training grounds growing up. The laboratories on Giedi Prime were never our places to be. Our scientists would always come and report to us rather than us going to them. It has always been that way. Everyone in House Harkonnen works for the Baron. Everything they do is in service to him. It is inappropriate by our standards for him to go to them.”

You nod at his words, reaching for the glass sash that separates you and Feyd from the compartment of the fume hood. “Unsurprisingly, it’s the opposite on Youra,” you say, putting the mortar with the powdered scales inside before lowering the sash again until it’s almost closed, leaving gap a couple inches tall for continued access. “Yes, all workers serve my father and me, but we are all colleagues, in a way. They are the workers and my father is the hub for all of the departments on Youra. Much of my father’s success is tied to them, so he would often visit our workers to acknowledge their efforts and dedication. He always wanted to see their work for himself, too. He’s always been the curious type. My father had me follow him to the laboratories as soon as I was old enough to understand safety protocol. I’m sure if it wasn’t for regulations, he’d have brought me into the labs in a baby sling.”

The image of young you in a laboratory, holding your father’s hand as Youran chemists show you both what they’re working on comes into Feyd’s mind.  Even though he didn’t know of you when you were children, he can imagine you then, much shorter with a rounder face but with the same bright eyes brimming with curiosity.  The idea makes his heart warm and a smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m sure those laboratory visits were most influential for you,” Feyd says. You nod in return as you put on a pair of gloves and reach under the sash to grab an amber bottle containing a clear liquid from the side of the hood.  

“Absolutely,” you reply as you transfer all the powdered scales into a glass Erlenmeyer flask and add enough of the liquid to cover the solids. You move the flask onto a raised plate in the hood and press a few buttons to begin the heating process.  “I loved watching them do their work. They knew so much about our world, but were still determined to know more.  The way they moved in the lab was like a dance. I desperately wanted to be a part of that, so I began working with them when I was fourteen…”

As Feyd listens to you talk about your past as you work, his admiration of you grows. Your determination and tenacity through failed experiments and stalled projects are astounding to him, and the fact you’ve been able to become a swordswoman on the side this is truly a marvel. Your skill and years of training are evident today, as your body seems to know this process by memory. This in front of him is the product of all those years of effort.

The liquid in the vessel begins to bubble gently. As the moments go by, the liquid takes on the iridescent nature of the scales and becomes a vibrant blue. Removing it from the heat, you strain the liquid through fine mesh into another container, removing all the powdered scales from the mixture.  Looking at the collected solids, Feyd can see the scales have lost their original coloration and turned a chalky off-white. You smile to yourself, knowing that the extraction was effective while you prepare a large volume of a different liquid, also clear and colorless, in a large beaker. 

“Are you ready for the recrystallization?” you ask him, grabbing a syringe and drawing up some of the extract into the barrel. You return to the beaker of liquid and gently tip it sideways with one hand while pointing the tip of the needle at the side of the beaker. Carefully, you begin to squeeze the syringe and the indigo liquid begins to drip out the needle’s tip and trickle down the side of the beaker. As the extract hits the surface of the clear liquid, deep purple crystals seem to flutter out from the point of impact into the liquid instantaneously. Feyds lips part in amazement, unable to tear his gaze away from the process

“How does it work?” he asks, watching as a batch of thin, needle-like crystals start to gather at the bottom of the beaker while the bulk liquid remains colorless. It’s as if all the color of the extract has been contained within the crystals. 

“I use the first liquid to remove the compound from the scales and make a concentrated extract. I then add the extract to a bulk solvent which our compound of interest is insoluble in. The compound forms crystals when the liquids meet because the second liquid is in great excess compared to the first,” you explain, drawing up more extract and adding it to the beaker in the same way. Once you’re out of extract, you squat down to bring your eye level to that of the beaker. “It’s perfect. I don’t think the crystallization has ever gone that well.” 

You’re absolutely beaming as you swirl the crystals suspended in the liquid, admiring how they twinkle in the light. He can’t deny that your excitement is contagious. You collect the crystals by filtering the mix through another filter and spread out the crystals on a metal sheet to allow them to dry before removing your safety glasses, and Feyd follows suit.

“This is the compound I was referring to that night at the Pools of Ashora,” you say to Feyd.  “If we dissolve the crystals in water and drink it, it allows people to retain their body’s water content and reduced the frequency at which people needed to drink water.”

“Fascinating…,” Feyd trails off, staring at the delicate crystals scattered across the surface inside the fume hood. 

“When I was on Youra, I tested the elixir myself,” you say. Hearing you say that you’ve done that, a bolt of fear goes to his heart at the thought of you just drinking a novel chemical. Feyd’s eyes quickly lock onto you, and his neck stiffens. His mind swirls with distress at the possibility of you getting hurt. You may look okay now, but was the elixir difficult for you to stomach? Did it hurt you in the moment?

Looking at him, you’re immediately in tune with his reaction, and you lift your hand up to rest on his arm to calm his nerves. At your touch, he immediately relaxes. “Don’t worry, Feyd. I am alright. There’s nothing to be worried about. We’ve done plenty of trials since I first introduced this fish to you. I assure you it’s safe. I’ve had all of my best scientists on this project, and I had the best doctors in Youra monitor my vitals for two days after the fact.” Feyd nods, knowing if anyone is competent enough to keep you safe, it's yourself and the Youran doctors and researchers. “We still don’t know the exact mechanism of the compound in the body, but we do know there aren’t significant negative side effects on people. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Feyd replies, taking the opportunity to bring his hand to your waist and pull you close enough that your lips are almost touching and you’re both staring into each other’s eyes.  “I will always put my faith in you and your work.”

“I’m glad to hear,” you reply, your breath fanning out across his face, which sends shivers down his spine.  “That means a lot, Feyd, we’ve been working hard the last few weeks for this.” Grinning at you, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tips your head up toward his, catching your lips in his.  You quickly take off your gloves and hold his cheeks in your palms, savoring the intimate moment. 

A knock at the door sounds through the room. Feyd grumbles in annoyance as the tension between you releases. You and Feyd look at each other before ending your embrace. You call out “Enter!” in the direction of the doors. A military advisor enters the lab in full uniform with his head low. He immediately drops to his knees in front of both of you to show his respect.

“Baron, Baroness,” he says. “I am deeply sorry for interrupting you both, but I bring critical news from Arrakis.”

“Very well,” Feyd says, straightening up and peering down at the man kneeling before him. “Out with it.”

“There has been an attack by the Fremen. They destroyed eighty percent of the most recent spice crop.” You can tell by the way the man shivers that he is afraid. Nobody ever wanted to be the one to break bad news to Feyd-Rautha. “Count Rabban attempted a counterattack.”

“‘Attempted?’ What happened?” Feyd growls, his eyes flashing in dissatisfaction. You catch Feyd’s hand in your palm as it flies in the direction of the knife he keeps on his person. You shake your head. You tell him there is no use in killing this man because it would be a waste with just a look.  

“Y-Yes, my Lord,” the man says, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. You can hear him beginning to hyperventilate despite his best attempts to steady his breath. “Rabban went after the Fremen, but the dust and debris from Rabban’s initial artillery attack made the visibility so poor on the battlefield that only Count Rabban and a few others survived. They were ambushed in the haze; it was a massacre with a casualty rate of seventy two percent and climbing.”

“Over half?!” you gasp, your own fists beginning to clench at Rabban’s blunder.

“Rabban says he saw the Fremen prophet, Muad'dib, on the battlefield before he fled. The Fremen… they are dedicated to him. They kill for him, Baron. Our spice operation is in jeopardy. We await your command.” 

Feyd stiffens, a vein threatening to pop on his temple. He sucks in air through his teeth, infuriated at Rabban’s continued incompetency. The advisor recoils at the noise, shuffling backward toward the door.

“You are dismissed,” you call to him with a huff.  A wave of relief washes over the man as he bows and thanks you before slipping out the door.

“Rabban is a damned fool!” Feyd shouts once you’re alone. “He has had every chance to rectify his mistakes on Arrakis, but he seems to leave his brain behind when he makes decisions and lets this Muad'dib win every time! And now I hear news of abandoning the battlefield at the sight of this prophet? He is a coward! An absolute imbecile! If something doesn’t change soon, the Emperor will take Arrakis from us!” 

You reach your arm out and rest it on his shoulder. In moments, you’ve quelled Feyd’s initial outburst until he’s only seething with fury instead of being on the verge of trashing the entire lab. “I think it’s time to relieve my brother of his duties,” Feyd says after he takes a deep breath. “We shall go to Arrakis to do it. I want to see the look on his face and the hope drain from his eyes when he knows he’s failed. I will take over the operation on Arrakis.  We will do what my brother was incapable of.”

“In that case…,” you say, preparing two glasses of water, adding a pinch of the crystals to each.  The water immediately turns a luminous indigo, and you hand Feyd one of the glasses, which he gladly takes.  You raise your glass in the air. “To victory and to House Harkonnen.”

“To victory and House Harkonnen,” he replies, connecting the rims of your glasses and drinking the entire glass in one go.  The elixir is salty and rich on his tongue as if he’s drinking the essence of the tropical ocean. As the elixir flows into him, he feels a warmth pulsate throughout his body.  He isn’t sure if this is truly the effects of the elixir or just a placebo, but Feyd feels powerful, like he could slaughter a thousand men and still have a hunger for more.  As he meets your gaze, you give him a knowing look. You feel the energy, too. You both shed your laboratory coats and leave the room to prepare for your journey to Arrakis. 

--

The preparations before and journey to Arrakis went without a hitch. You had opted to choose Harkonnen battle gear over your own, but you and Feyd still agreed on concealing your knives under a black Harkonnen dress cloak, still not eager to let anyone know of your true nature. Arriving in Arrakeen, you notice the striking architecture, made up of geometric slabs of tan stone layered to create a fortress to protect its inhabitants.  This time on Arrakis, Feyd doesn’t feel the heat like he used to. It’s as if his body is fighting back against the harsh environment on the desert planet. You feel it, too. You were initially concerned because you had only tested the elixir during the dry months on Youra, which paled in hostility in comparison to Arrakis, but seems the elixir’s protection is more than sufficient.

You and Feyd walk the halls of the fortress side by side, heading to the room where all of the Harkonnen strategists and military officials are. You see them gathered around a digital map projected by a computer in the middle of the room, which shows the locations of all the Harkonnen forces in the north of Arrakis.  Upon seeing their Baron and Baroness side by side, they all freeze and bow.

“Welcome to Arrakis, Baron, Baroness” one of them says. He opens his mouth to continue but Fed cuts him off. 

“Enough,” Feyd hisses at him. “I have orders for you. You are no longer to follow the word of Count Rabban. As of today, he is relieved of his duty as Planetary Governor of Arrakis. You will report directly to and receive orders only from me and your Baroness.”

The room of men immediately shout “Yes, My Lord!” in response. A smirk forms on Feyd's lips at their responsiveness, and he instructs them to hit the Fremen with old-fashioned artillery. As the orders are executed by the Harkonnen military, you watch the map intently as the targets on the map turn green, indicating the Fremen bases are hit successfully. All of the military advisors’ eyes widen in surprise at the genius of Feyd’s strategy as the reports of complete annihilation from the ground forces roll in. 

They all begin to applaud Feyd and as their chants fill the room, your heart fills with pride.  Feyd has finally proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was always meant to be the leader of House Harkonnen.  As the applause continues, you see Rabban appear in the doorway, a look of surprise disgust on his face. You notice he’s still wearing his nightclothes, and your eyes flash between him and Feyd as Rabban approaches Feyd, Rabban’s legs still stiff from sleep. 

“Leave us,” Feyd instructs the others in the room, who promptly file out. They keep their eyes on the floor, not daring to look at Rabban. They know people who end up alone in a room with Feyd after repeated blunders usually don’t exit the room outside of a body bag. 

“What are you doing here?” Rabban growls at Feyd.

“It’s early morning.  What are you doing here?” Feyd quips back.  Rabban lets out a frustrated huff.

“You can’t just waltz in here,” Rabban says through gritted teeth.  “And how can you bring that woman into the inner sanctum?”  

“How dare you refer to your Baroness like that!” Feyd roars, grabbing Rabban by his collar.  “If you have forgotten, dear Brother, I am Baron now.  I will do as I please and take my wife wherever I wish!” 

Feyd throws Rabban back and he falls on his back hard. In desperation, Rabban tries to scramble to his feet again, but as soon as he’s almost upright, he feels his knees buckle from under him as you kick the backside of his knees in. Rabban’s forehead collides with the stone floor with a visceral crack, and he feels his arm caught in your grip behind him. He groans as you push his arm to the verge of overextension. On his neck, Rabban feels the cool tip of a blade threatening to pierce his skin, which sends a chill down his spine, his head still spinning from impact.

“You should learn to respect your superiors,” you whisper to him as Feyd’s gaze is fixated on you.  The picture before him has a fire rising within him. His breath turns thick and heavy, seeing you over Rabban, your blade on his neck and your foot on his back with a fiendish smile on your lips.  “I would have expected more from my brother-in-law… You are a disgrace to House Harkonen,” you drawl, pressing your dagger’s tip into Rabban’s neck enough to draw blood. Dark crimson blood trickles down Rabban’s neck and he squirms. You remove your foot from his back and step forward to place your shoe by his face. You take the opportunity to kick his cheek in a little with the toe of your shoe before the heel of your combat boot hits the floor by Rabban’s face with a firm thunk. “Kiss my feet, and I may spare your life.”

Rabban quivers under your hold, his palms spread over the stone floor. He considers trying to escape. He could try to press his body up and avoid the blade on his neck and try to sweep your legs out from under you, but he quickly realizes that you are in control. Any movement like that would end with your knife in his chest, back, or neck. Despite his position being compromised, he hesitates to kiss your foot  How could he, Glossu Rabban, kiss a woman’s shoe in submission?

“You heard her, Brother,” Feyd hisses, stepping toward you both as he basks in his brother’s terror.  Feyd stops in front of his brother and squats down to look at him. “Kiss her feet.  Now.” 

After a moment, Rabban quivers and presses his lips against the leather of your shoes. As he does, you see how miserable and pathetic this man below you is. It's truly a shock that this oaf is the brother of your Feyd, who is confident, domineering, and skillful in every way.  

“You made a good decision obeying, Rabban,” you say, releasing the blade on his neck. “I would have wasted a perfectly sharpened knife slitting your throat if you hadn’t cooperated.” You step back from him as he clambers into an upright position. His hand flies to his neck, feeling the blood trickle down his neck and seep into his nightshirt. 

“You are hereby relieved of your duties as Planetary Governor of Arrakis,” Feyd grins at the pitiful sight before him. “You will return to your quarters in the meantime and wait for future instruction.”

Rabban leaves in defeat. Once the doors shut behind him, you and Feyd smirk at each other, and Feyd rushes to you giving you a tender kiss.  “I love you, Baroness,” he murmurs, completely infatuated with you.  

--

A few days later, you stare up into the atmosphere of Arrakis. The Emperor’s craft has just entered the atmosphere. You and Feyd share incredulous looks and you immediately make your way to where the emperor will be docking.  

“What could the emperor want?” you ask Feyd as you walk..  “We restored spice production. It’s never been more efficient.”

Feyd shakes his head, deep in thought.  “I do not know, my love.”  

“I don’t like this, Feyd.” you whisper to him, trying not to let anyone else hear and Feyd nods in return.  “What could have summoned the emperor to Arrakis?”

“We shall see,” he replies. Rabban arrives and bows to you both, which makes you frown. Rabban hasn’t been involved in House Harkonnen’s operations since he was removed. Nevertheless, he still proceeds into the throne room before Feyd or you can dismiss him.   

Inside the throne room, the emperor is perched on a large throne up a large flight of stairs with his daughter and a Bene Gesserit standing by him.  Your eyes narrow seeing the witch’s presence, knowing they have tricks they are not afraid of using to manipulate the great houses. You, Feyd, and Rabban kneel in front of them, bowing your heads.  Before any of you speak, the emperor’s voice rings out. 

“I am sure you are curious as to why I have come to Arrakis,” he begins.  “What do you know of the prophet Muad'dib?”  Rabban speaks up first, saying that Muad'dib is a madman.

“Mad?!” the emperor says.

“All Fremen are mad!” Rabban counters, and the Emperor’s fist clenches around the arm of his throne. You and Feyd shoot daggers at Rabban, and he closes his mouth immediately, putting his head down again which casts his face in shadow.

“We apologize for my brother speaking out of turn,” Feyd says to the Emperor. “Rabban has had no part in the latest work of House Harkonnen. He is not a reliable source of information.  We know Muad'dib is a figure of the Fremen, and they follow his command.”

“Yes,” you say. “He organizes their forces, and they have been effective in battle against many of our forces by hiding in the sands and staging ambushes.  They’ve been effective at destroying our spice harvesters in the past, but we’ve been able to successfully retaliate.” The Bene Gesserit flashes some hand signs at the emperor. She must be able to tell if people are lying or not. 

“What of the prophet’s whereabouts?” the Emperor asks, his voice darkening with frustration at your lack of knowledge.  The emperor’s suggested scorn directed at House Harkonnen is sour on your tongue, and you grit your teeth.  

“We control the north of Arrakis and spice production, Emperor,” you reply, keeping yourself collected.  “We believe Muad'dib has fled to the south to hide in the storms after my husband’s last military tactic was successful in neutralizing their northern bases.” 

As you utter those words, you feel a tremendous boom propagate through the air, causing the building to shudder. Everyone in the room looks up. Some of the diplomats that have accompanied the emperor swallow thickly. You and Feyd exchange knowing glances. Something isn’t right. The Sardaukar forces, who have come to protect the emperor, raise their weapons and get into formation with one line in front of the emperor, who has abandoned the throne in favor of shelter. 

The other line of Sardaukar forms a line opposite the entrance way, as more explosions can be heard beyond the walls. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban slip away, ever the coward. You feel Feyd’s touch on your arm as he beckons you to position yourself behind the defenses with the other diplomats. From your shared position, you both wait and listen intently. The others in the room are paralyzed in a cold sweat, but you and Feyd are silently watching, waiting, and listening, already gathering information on the situation to calculate your next move.

Dust fills the room as another bang resonates throughout the room and the barrier breaks down. The frontline of the Sardaukar advance, weapons at the ready. As they disappear into the dust, you know they aren’t coming back. The room is almost entirely quiet, but through the haze you hear the barely audible but familiar sound of daggers piercing armor, slitting throats, and tearing flesh. The remaining Sardaukar dig their heels in as a figure emerges through the orange debris, wrapped in tan fabrics caked in others’ blood. His face is concealed by a scarf, and the only flesh of his you see are his eyes, blue from spice. He is accompanied by an army. Judging by the amount of noise they made on their arrival, you and Feyd know there are probably hundreds of them. Fighting your way out is not an option. This must be the prophet Muad'dib.

Muad'dib looks around with his blade drawn, seemingly searching for someone as he enters the room.  You see him and Feyd make eye contact. Feyd’s eyes narrow at him in curiosity. When Muad'dib does not find who he is looking for, he turns the crowd of people behind the Sardaukar guards. Most of the diplomats instinctively take a step back. He makes eye contact with the emperor before turning to his own forces and hissing something in a foreign tongue which you presume to be Chakobsa, Fremen language. He exits the room back into the crowd of Fremen who chant for him, waving their war banners.  You see they bear the hawk insignias of House Atreides. The son of Duke Leto Atreides is alive. 

The Fremen advance, easily slaying the last remaining Sardaukar. Many of the diplomats shudder and jump in surprise as the Fremen plunge their daggers into the Sardaukar warriors, who are powerless to stop them. Once they are all dead and their blood is spread across the floor in crimson red pools, the Fremen start grabbing the rest of you by your arms, and you are all dragged away one by one. You are being taken prisoner. You look to Feyd, who gives you a subtle nod as if to say “go along with it,” and you do.

--

You’ve laid low all in the confinement the Fremen have kept you in all night, not eager to give any of them a reason to kill you. Silently, you’ve been analyzing your situation, trying to figure out a way to achieve an optimal outcome, which you feel is slipping through your fingers. Since you have been taken prisoner, you can only presume that the rest of the Sardaukar and the Harkonnen army have been slaughtered and their bodies burned before daybreak. You and Feyd are likely the last living Harkonnens on Arrakis.  

After sunrise, you are called upon by a faceless Fremen, who orders all of the prisoners to follow. You are reunited with Feyd, who takes your hand, careful not to let the Fremen see this gesture of affection as to not allow them any leverage. His touch automatically makes you as at ease you can be, given that you are both captives without allies. 

Arriving in a room with the other prisoners, you see the surviving Fremen mingling and congratulating one another. The man from before stands in the clearing of the room without his face covering, his black wavy hair framing his face. Feyd turns to you and mouths “Atreides.” You nod in understanding, and watch as Paul Atreides addresses the Emperor, challenging him for the throne. Looking out the window, you see warships in the distant sky.  The other great houses have arrived and Paul Atreides threatens to destroy all the spice fields if the houses intervene. 

“Stand yourself or choose your champion,” he orders the Emperor, who turns to Feyd.  

“I select Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” the emperor declares. “Get him a blade.” You inhale sharply, knowing this means Feyd must fight to the death against a man who has already slain many in battle and emerged victorious from the bloodbath of the previous night. You trust Feyd’s skill, but you know not to underestimate Paul Atreides. Feyd’s eyes flicker toward you. He knows what you’re thinking and gives you a slight nod as if to promise he will fight his hardest, not for the emperor, but for you. He is presented with a blade by one of the members of the emperor’s council. To your surprise, Feyd pushes it away and turns to you. Coming to stand in front of you, he gestures downward toward your legs, where your daggers are still strapped to your thighs out of sight.

“Feyd, are you sure?” you say to him, your voice small. 

“I want to use your blade. Please let me fight for you,” Feyd whispers. You nod and reach down to fulfill his request, drawing one of your Youran weapons from your garters. When you hand it to him, Feyd feels the familiar heft of your dagger in his hand, which makes him grin. Just as he remembers, it’s expertly balanced and perfectly crafted, its pointed tip shining in the low orange light of the room. He smiles, recalling the night you handed him the same blade, the first time he saw your true nature. He twirls the knife in his grip with a flourish of his wrist as he stands opposite Paul Atreides. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, cousin,” Paul says.

“Cousin…” Feyd says, continuing to evaluate Paul for his weaknesses. “You wouldn’t be the first family member I’ve killed.”

His words don’t phase you. You’re well aware of Feyd’s family history. You clasp your hands in each other in front of your chest, willing Feyd to be the victor. Paul Atreides straightens himself and salutes Feyd. “May thy knife chip and shatter,” Paul says with a gruff tone, lowering himself into a battle stance and pointing his knife at Feyd. Feyd smirks, raising your weapon. The sight of it in his hand is gratifying for Feyd. Despite standing alone against Paul, it’s as if you are both in this fight together with him wielding your weapon. 

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Feyd returns and within moments, they're after each other, having an all out brawl in the middle of the room. They each swipe at each other with reaction times like lightning.  The sounds of blades crashing against one another, the low smacks of their bodies colliding, and their grunts of exertion fill the room. You have to admit, Paul Atreides is an impressive fighter. He’s quick on his feet and swiftly dodges and counters many of Feyd’s attacks, but it is obvious that Feyd is the one with strength on his side. The only way for Atreides to win is if he is able to find a way to use that strength against Feyd.

You’re barely breathing at this point. Your facade of stoicism threatens to crumble when you see Paul Atreides’ forehead connect firmly with your husband’s nose. To your surprise, you don’t see any blood on Feyd’s face. Paul Atreides’ head is thrown back after almost bouncing off of Feyd’s nose. Paul’s head seems to be spinning as he stumbles backward on uneven footing.  Feyd recognizes Paul’s debilitated state is fleeting, and takes advantage of the moment, striking Paul again. The tangle of limbs is intense, but in the blink of an eye, you see Feyd disarm Paul, taking Paul’s knife for his own.  

As they break away from one another, Paul Atreides is heaving, struggling to breathe as the leather bound hilt of your dagger protrudes from his abdomen. He’s wheezing as his own blood seeps into his battle gear. His allies gaze upon the sight in shock, some wincing in second-hand pain.

Feyd approaches him promptly, and grabs Paul by the scruff of his neck, raising Paul’s own knife at him. Paul Atreides uses his own gloved hand to grab the blade, trying to push it away, but Feyd leans in, forcing the blade to slip further into Paul’s grip, cutting the flesh of Paul’s hand open with a sickening noise, the tip of the knife getting closer to piercing Paul’s neck.

The next moment, you feel like screaming. The dagger, once poised to slice open Paul Atreides’ neck, is no longer in the air visible to you. Paul Atreides has used his grip on Feyd’s blade to redirect the tip toward the stomach of your husband. Your hands fly to your mouth, tears threatening to spill.  The force Feyd puts behind his blade at that proximity is fatal. 

The memories of meeting Feyd on Youra, fighting by his side against Ozran, plotting into the early hours to kill his despicable uncle, your wedding ceremony in front of House Harkonnen, and the moments of tenderness and affection he’s given you in private flash through your mind. Your stomach writhes, and your heart shrivels into itself, and your mind begins to confront the idea that you now must mourn the life you and Feyd had assembled. Another thought flashes through your mind. You’ll likely be killed after this with the rest of the prisoners in this room, and die alone without your husband, lightyears away from your people on Youra and Giedi Prime. You’ve failed.

Through your tears, you stare at the scene as the air and the people surrounding you are completely still.  However, something gives you pause. You hear something hit the floor look down to the area under Feyd and Paul’s feet. You spy fragments of metal, broken into uneven shards, scattered across the floor. However, there is no blood to be seen.  Your eyes shoot to Feyd, who is also looking down to where they both hold the hilt of the broken knife. 

Without a second to spare, Feyd’s hand flies to your knife in Paul’s side, ripping it out of him. Paul cries out in agony, the removal of the knife causing a blood curdling squelch of skin and muscle ripping. The next moment, Feyd slits Paul Atreides’ throat with a grand swing of his arm, sending blood splatter fanning across the floor. The pregnant woman seated in the wooden throne bearing the Atreides crest lets out a high pitched shriek, and she begins to wail, seeing the light from her son’s eyes fade as his body crumples to the floor. A Fremen woman across from you lets out a shaky breath, her lip quivering and tears pool near her bright blue eyes as Paul Atreides’ fresh blood collects in a puddle on the stone floor under the gaping hole in his neck.

Feyd turns back to you, bloody blade in hand and lets out a deep exhale, allowing the tension in his own chest to dissipate. He had thought he was dead, too, but no. He is alive. He is victorious, and he gets to look into your eyes again, knowing that he has done his job for you.

Kneeling, Feyd presents the emperor with the soiled blade. The emperor smiles and pronounces Paul Atreides, the prophet Muad'dib, to be dead and Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen as the victor. In defeat, the ally of Paul, identified as Gurney Halleck, relays a message to the great houses of the outcome of the fight.  The emperor’s reign shall continue, and your husband is alive. You push your way past the others in the crowd and throw yourself at Feyd, who cradles you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair, whispering to you “Please don’t shed any more tears, my love. I am still here… I wouldn’t leave you that easily.”

“I thought I lost you,” you choke out and Feyd shakes his head, using his thumb to wipe away the tear stains on your cheeks. 

“You haven’t and you won’t,” he replies, his hands holding your body steady. “Let’s go home.”

—

Holding your knees to your chest, you sit in a private chamber on the Emperor’s vessel as it leaves the atmosphere of Arrakis to take you and Feyd back to Giedi Prime, which was the least the emperor could do given that Feyd nearly died for him. One of Feyd’s hands rests on your waist, holding you firmly in his grip while the other rubs gentle circles on your shoulder with his thumb.  Feyd watches as your eyes dart side to side, which happens when you’re deep in though. 

“What is on your mind, my love?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.  

“I’m thinking about your battle with Paul Atreides,” you reply. “The knife broke when he tried to turn the tables on you, didn’t it?” Feyd nods, bringing his hand down to the spot on his abdomen where the knife was. “May I see where it was?” you ask and Feyd obliges, creating a small bit of distance between the two of you so that you can get a good look at his torso.  

You bring your hand to where Feyd’s armor has been sliced open by the blade. Bringing the other hand to his body, you gently spread the layers of fabric and leather apart to look through the hole. Underneath, you see Feyd’s familiar pale skin and his chiseled abdominal muscles that you’ve always loved to drag your fingers across. His skin appears to be absolutely pristine without a single nick or bruise in sight. You bring your head closer to get a better look before saying, “There isn’t evidence of any damage to your skin, Feyd. Your body is like the battle never happened. There isn’t a trace of impact.” As soon as you utter the last word in the sentence, you freeze and your lips part ever so lightly as your mind races to connect the dots. He knows that look on you, and he sees the gears turning in your mind. 

“Impact…,” you mumble to yourself. Your eyes shoot up to Feyd’s  “During the battle there was a moment when Paul Atreides’ head collided with your nose.” Your hand flies to his cheek to steady his head. You examine his nose, using your hand to tilt his head side to side. Everything about his face is unchanged, which shouldn’t be the case, especially after a fight like that and the headbutt he endured from Paul. You tip his head back. Again, there is no blood or breakage. 

Your mind begins to race as you return your hands to your husband’s torso. Your hands fumble as you attempt to remove the layers of armor in between you and Feyd’s skin. Feyd realizes what you’re doing and soon enough he’s shirtless in front of you. You extend your hand out and drag your hand over his stomach. You press your fingers firmly down onto his abdominal region and upper body repeatedly, changing the area you’re putting pressure on each time. He feels solid under your touch and not in the way you’re used to. Feyd has always been bulky and muscular, hardened from years of training, but something about this is different. It’s like his body has the durability of an alloy the researchers on Youra could only dream of engineering, but he’s still flesh and blood. Bring your fingers to your own stomach, pressing your fingers against your own front, and you gasp. “That’s it!” you exclaim.

“What is it?” he asks, knowing you are on the edge of an epiphany. 

“It’s the elixir!” you gasp, standing up and holding your head in disbelief  “It saved your life!”

 “I thought it was only to help the body retain water,” Feyd says as you get up and begin circling the room.

“Don’t you remember? That’s the end result of the elixir, but we were still unsure of the mechanism by which that happens!” you exclaim. “Remember the night I showed you the fish? I said that the fish sheds its scales at the beginning of the wet season. What I didn’t tell you is that the wet season is the only time of year we can get the scales off the fish because they fall off naturally. Our scientists have tried to get the scales before the transition of the seasons, but they've always been unable to pry the scales off or kill them because it was impossible to slice open the fish. No matter how much we sharpened the knives, we couldn’t cut them open!”

“That’s how the fish retain water in the dry season. The fish develop these scales with this compound that transforms their own bodies into a shield from the elements, so that water can’t escape. I’ve always wondered how a fish would be able to survive the whole dry season on a dried up lake bed.  This compound is why the fish species hasn’t gone extinct! When they’re sitting in their dried up ponds, no predators can eat them because their bodies are too tough to pierce,” you surmise, delight filling your complexion. “By drinking that compound, the same thing has happened to our bodies! You were able to survive the battle because your skin became this impenetrable barrier that lets you keep your water that just so happens to be impervious to outside attacks as well! That’s also why your nose didn’t break and why Paul Atreides was so disoriented after he struck you with his head. It was as if he rammed his head into a steel wall.  Researchers on Youra didn't catch this effect in the clinical trials because we don’t just go stabbing all of our test subjects with knives or subjecting them to blunt force trauma, especially not for a study about water retention!”

Feyd hardly believes what he’s hearing, but he knows it's true. Everything you’re saying makes perfect sense.  Memories from the battle flash in his mind.  He remembers his arm is suddenly bending toward himself, feeling the rough surface of the broken blade scrape against his abdomen, but the pain he had been trained to resist since childhood never hitting his senses. He brings himself to his feet and pulls you into his arms, squeezing you as tight as he can muster. “You are phenomenal, my dear,  I can’t believe you figured that out,” he murmurs to you. “Thank you.  I owe you my life.”

He lowers his lips to yours, kissing you like he’s never done before. You both cling to one another, relieved you are both alive and safe. Feyd holds the back of your head and runs his fingers through your locks tenderly, thinking about how far you both have come in this short amount of time. Mere months ago, you were a stranger he had the obligation to meet and marry. He knew he would have to enter a loveless relationship with you in the name of alliances. He tried to convince himself you were a woman he wanted to make a plaything out of.  Before, he was intent on manipulating, breaking, and exploiting you for his own amusement. Those ideas feel so foreign to Feyd now as he revels in your affections and caresses your cheek. 

Looking down at you, he sees you for what you are. You are the most beautiful being to ever exist.  Nothing past or present will ever compare to you, and it brings tears to his eyes, knowing you are his wife and he is your husband. You are the culmination of all House Ronen and House Harkonnen have worked for, a true representation of the union of your two houses, and the pinnacle of all Feyd has come to hold dear. You are where brain meets brawn, where tradition meets modernity, and the pride and joy of Feyd’s life. You are simply everything. 

-- 

Thanks for reading!  I can’t believe the series is over (but I'm also considering writing an epilogue, but I have some requests coming down the pipeline, so we'll see about that. lmk if that's something you might be interested in...). Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed Knives Dance! :)

Also is it obvious I study chemistry yet?

Taglist:

@austinbutlerslovers @rougegenshin @itshype@woodland-mist @tian-monique @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @allthingsimagines @meetmeatyourworst @nyaaaaa008 @caroline334 @alana4610 @targaryen-madness

Tags that aren't working for some reason??? @roguegenshin @miaraises

[ju1cyfru1t]

i wish you would (Rise! Donnie x Reader) pt.1

Donnie snaps at reader after they put themself in danger.

angst?, fighting and yelling D:, gn reader, hehehehehe Donnie has a crush on reader 🤌, platonic or romantic

Pt.2

You think I'm gonna hate you now

'Cause you still don't know what I never said

You hit the ground, the sword you’d swiped from a foot clan soldier landing beside you with a clink. The origami soldiers turning to confetti in front of your eyes.

You just sat there for a moment as your heart raced, and yours wasn’t the only one.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called from you behind you and you felt a three-fingered hand grab your arm to help you up. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

You stood, turning to face Donatello while you brushed yourself off. “Yeah…yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”

Donnie looked all over you, checking for any injuries no matter how minor. A sigh of relief escaped him as he let go of your arm.

“What could you have possibly been thinking?! That was totally irresponsible, Y/N!”

You blinked at him, visibly confused. “What? Donnie, those soldiers were headed straight for you guys. You didn’t even see them, I had to do something!”

“That is not an excuse, you idiot!” He yelled. He actually raised his voice at you. “I mean, seriously! Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?”

Raph, Leo, and Mikey couldn’t do anything but watch the scene in front of them stunned. Sure, they’d heard their brother get angry and yell before, but never at you.

“I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me right now. I didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m perfectly fine! I think I can handle myself against some paper.” You defended yourself, your own anger building. Why was he talking to you like this?

“Woah, woah, woah- Let’s just all calm down, ok? To be honest, Y/N, I thought that was pretty badass-“ Leo spoke up in your defense. I mean, why wouldn’t he? You didn’t even have a scratch on you!

“Shut up, Leo!” Donnie glared at his twin.

“Donnie, you need to chill.” Raph placed a hand on his brothers shoulder.

“Yeah, Y/N is fine, aren’t you?” Mikey responded. All but Donnie were on your side.

“Yes! Thank you!” You groaned. You just couldn’t understand why he was being like this.

“Fine.” Donnie’s eyes narrowed at you and he crossed his arms. He spoke to you through his clenched jaw, “but we’re not speaking until you can admit that you were wrong.”

Wrong about what?

“Fine.” You glared back, crossing your own arms.

Mikey, Raph, and Leo all shared a nervous, unsure look.

“Leo, portal Y/N home.” Raph ordered, motioning towards you.

“Alright, but if they end up in Jersey it’s on your conscience.” Leo shrugged, slinging his sword until a large, blue portal opened in front of you.

“I’ll try to talk to him, ok?” Mikey whispered and gave you a reassuring smile, patting you on the back. You just nodded, stepping into the portal.

You landed on your bed at home, watching the blue light fade. You curled up on your side, hugging your knees to your chest.

Donnie had never yelled at you before. Annoyed with you? Yes, but not angry.

You didn’t do anything wrong, right? You just wanted to protect them like they would do for you. You wanted to protect him. Why couldn’t he just understand that? Did he really mean what he said, or was it just in the heat of the argument?

You took a deep, shaky breath. Pulling out your phone from your pocket and clicking on April’s contact, listening to it ring.

[djarins-cyare]

Din Djarin: The Contractor

I had no access to my WIPs for a few days this week, so my brain started inventing scenarios… ‘imagines’, I guess? This (totally unedited) one came about when I happened to scroll past the first two pics of Din on Pinterest, and the memory of Joel telling Ellie he used to be a contractor sprang to mind…

Well, your [SWU-techno-thingy] is broken. Great. Trying to keep your irritation in check, you call the repair company, who politely assure you they’ll send over their best guy immediately. It’s late in the day, and dusk is approaching fast, so you guess you should be happy they’re willing to send anyone out at all.

After a lengthy wait, during which your irritation seems to grow exponentially, your repairman pootles up to your home on his banged-up speeder, parking outside. Unhurriedly, he grabs his tools and trudges into your home, nodding a greeting but remaining suspiciously quiet and not even giving his name.

Perhaps doing a late job has made him grouchy. Yeah, well, not having a working [SWU-techno-thingy] has made you grouchy, too. Get in line, pal.

You show him the problem, and he spends a while trying to get a better look at it, peering into the inner workings and sighing. He mumbles “hmm” an awful lot, sometimes tutting and shaking his helmet at what he sees, and he takes plenty of readings with various tools.

Eventually, he concludes his analysis and tells you it’ll cost double what you were quoted when you called earlier because your [SWU-techno-thingy] is entirely dead. Apparently, he needs to replace your [thingamajig] in order to realign your [whatchamacallit] and get it running again, which requires brand-new parts and a lot of labour.

When you baulk at this, he simply shrugs and says he doesn’t set the rates; they’re determined by the Guild. Then he stands there, looking annoyingly smug, waiting for you to authorise him to start work.

You reluctantly agree and leave him to it, stomping off in the hope that you can find something to occupy yourself while he works.

Frustratingly, you can’t, and when you return shortly thereafter to check how it’s going, you find he’s taking a break. What the hell? A break already???

As much as you try to keep your anger in check, you virtually yell that he’s supposed to be on the clock and he’d better not be charging you for the time he’s spending sitting around doing nothing!

He grumbles something about missing dinner (with a womp rat, of all things!) for this, puts down the bowl he was drinking from, and huffily grabs his tools to get to work.

Finally, he starts the job you hired him for, and you stick around to monitor him, slightly worried he might try and push his luck again. But it seems like he’s pulling his weight at last — tools a-turnin’, sparks a-flyin’. He seems to know what he’s doing.

After a while, you start to realise that what he’s doing is actually pretty impressive. You can’t deny he looks skilled and competent — almost badass — as he expertly fixes your [SWU-techno-thingy].

Satisfied he’s now earning his fee, you leave him to it for a while, once again trying to find something else to occupy you.

But it’s not long before you find yourself back again, keen to know how he’s doing. For a moment, you think he might’ve fallen asleep because he’s lying down, and the bitter taste of annoyance returns, but… oh nope, he’s just getting a better angle for the repairs.

He keeps working diligently, so you let him continue without disturbing him.

After what feels like a lifetime, he finally tells you he’s all finished.

As you inspect his work, you notice him standing off to the side like a kid waiting for the teacher to grade his class project. It’s sort of sweet, in a way.

It seems like he did a decent job, and you tell him so, handing him payment with a smile, which he accepts with a nod. He then collects his stuff (an impressive display of strength), bids you goodbye and turns to leave.

You escort him to the door, thanking him again and watching your taciturn repairman walk away from your home.

Now that you have a working [SWU-techno-thingy] once again and have recovered from being quoted an extortionate price for its repair, you revise your opinion of your contractor. He’s skilled, and aside from being a little huffy to start with (though you concede he was probably just hungry), he seems like a nice guy.

Plus, as he walks away from you, you can’t help but admire his perfect ass, remembering how good it looked earlier when he bent over to grab his toolkit.

Almost as if he can feel your gaze, when he gets to the edge of your property, he turns back to look at you, lingering for a moment, meeting your stare in that intense way of his.

Your pulse picks up, and for a second, you think he might come back — that he might push you inside and have his wicked way with you, give you a decent seeing to with those skilled hands of his.

The moment you share is electric, and you imagine a plethora of debauched scenarios as you stare into his T-visor with hope…

…but it passes as he tears his gaze away, hurriedly loads up his rusted speeder bike, and climbs on. He gives you a final nod as he pulls away, departing from your life as swiftly as he arrived.

Oh well, it was surely a ridiculous thought anyway.

You return inside and try to get on with your evening, but your thoughts keep drifting back to your contractor. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? He barely even spoke to you.

Eventually, you cave and admit it. You’re attracted to him. He has a magnetism you don’t understand, yet you can’t deny its pull on you. But there’s nothing you can do about that… is there? And he might not feel the same anyway.

You keep thinking about the look he gave you when he left. There was something there, you’re sure of it.

So… okay. Are you really going to break something else to get him to come back?

Yes. Yes, you are…

[misguidedasgardian]

Wildcats (Part XIX)

XIX. Keep an eye on the horizon

MASTERLIST

Summary: Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis, that’s how it worked. 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, angst, fluff, cuddling, inaccuracy in describing places iI have never been in, MIGHT MISS SOME IMPORTANT WARNINGS, but you know what this is about. 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alrighttttt I noticed you weren’t thrilled about our decision to go to DC, but it’s gonna be fine… and Daryl won’t be in the dark for long… ANYWAYS I read a nice comment form the early chapters that said “I love reader she is so funny and badass” AND YES WE ARE, WE JUST NEED TO REMEMBER THAT, ALRIGHT? We are badasses, and she needs to “assert dominance”, and we will!. 

You grabbed your bag, with your essentials for a couple of days. 

It had been hectic, a couple of days of planning, a big map of DC, thorough planning of entrances and exits, of a plan A, B, C, you believed you managed to get to a plan M. Rick, Abraham and Rosita had given total control of the mission, letting you choose even which car to take out there, and the provisions, and of course, you consulted in them too, in all of the decisions.

Soon the night before the trip came, and you were nervous, but in a good way, in an excited way, you checked the map one more time while you were in bed, preparing mentally for everything to be disastrous, to be empty, to be destroyed, ravaged and pillaged, to not finding anything but walkers… but at the same time, you were hopeful.

Deanna had told you that she had sent a couple of people into DC, but they never got too close to the city center. 

You got startled when you felt a knock on the door, you hid the map as if you were a little kid with something you shouldn’t be, as you indicated quickly that the person who knocked could come in.

You were surprised to see Daryl there, after a week of stalking him at night time, tonight you decided to let him be, especially since tomorrow you were going to leave, and also, you didn’t want to pressure him.

“Hey”, he greeted

“Hey”, you whispered back, with a soft smile, “you went out there again?”, you asked, honestly since yesterday, when you encountered him outside the pantry, you haven't seen him much.

“Nah, I was fixing my bike”. he said, “Rick told us to stop looking fo people for a while”

“Oh”, that was news to you, ever since the dispute on the morning before his trial you had been distant with the leader of your group. Even though he seemed like his good old self the moment you asked him about going to Washington. You needed to get close with Rick again.

“What were you up to?”, he asked, seeming uncomfortable, you’d ask him to come in, but you didn’t want to scare him

“Readin”, you answered simply.

“Didn’t see you today”, he leaned against the doorframe, looking at you

“Sorry, my head was elsewhere”, you mumbled. “Did you manage to fix your bike?”, it was a  strained conversation, you could feel it. Weird too.

“Yeah”, he whispered. “Is everythin’ alright?”, he asked, and it killed you to see that glint of hope in his eyes

“Yeah”, you assured him, “it is”

“Don’t seem like it”, he mumbled

“Well, my boyfriend, or at least, who I consider my boyfriend won’t sleep with me… so I wanted to give him some space”, you explained calmly. Then you thought better of it, maybe it was too early to call him that, you felt like an idiot doing so… but something got lost in translation. What were you two anyways? is not like you were friends with benefits or crap like that…

“I am your boyfriend now?”, he mocked, lightheartedly 

“Yes you are right, it sounds childish, from now on, I’ll refer to you as my man-friend”, you said with a cheeky smile. He chuckled darkly, scratching his neck. He looked around your room, finally stepping inside. 

“Can I… stay here?”, he asked, you smiled and nodded enthusiastically

“Of course”, you said, opening his bed more for him to join you. You had become excited. He got into the bed, clothes and all. Did he even have pajamas? you had found some in the clothes the Alexandrians had given you, soft cotton, with long sleeves and legs, nothing too fancy. You made a mental note to get him some comfortable ones, he could use when he stayed in your room, or wherever.

A thing you found odd, but quite endearing when you started joining Daryl at nights… was that you seemed to fit well together all the time. Back then you barely knew each other and yet, you seemed to be made to cuddle each other. You felt your cheeks heated at the thought, and your hands a bit sweaty. 

“What were you readin?”, he asked

“Deanna gave some of Reg’s books, I found a book of poems by an artist I loved”, you said with a soft smile. He cuddled into you, and you left the poems of William Morris aside.

“Keep readin”, he begged

“It’s in my mother tongue”, you warned

“Mmmm read woman, so I can learn”, he said simply, “can’t have my girlfriend cussing me out without me knowin”, you chuckled

“You called me your girlfriend”, you giggled. He chuckled, passing an arm over your torso, hugging you, and squeezed at your teasing. You laughed harder.

“Wanna talk about it?”, you asked softly, you didn’t know how to approach him, you wanted him to tell you things, what was on his mind, you found yourself wishing you could go inside his head sometimes.. 

“Read”’, he requested softly, his head on the crook of your neck. 

Now you certainly felt guilty… For not telling him anything about the trip, but now you didn’t want to spoil the mood, so… you always had till the last minute tomorrow…

. . .

You woke up alone, which saddened you, but perhaps it was for the best… So you got up, took a long shower and got dressed. 

So now the day had finally come and you were… extremely excited. more so than being nervous, you took it as a great sign. The plans were laid down, everything was looking good, the sun was shining. You took a deep breath into the day and started walking towards the truck you had picked.  You heard behind you some hurried steps, so you turned around to meet Daryl, who looked absolutely annoyed. 

“Why did ya’ tell me?”, he asked angrily when he saw you, you sighed, “Rick told me, ya’ going to DC, he thought I knew”

“It’s nothing personal”, you said, you resume your walk, as he started walking by your side

“Feel like it is”, he said

“It’s not”, you assured him, he grabbed you by the arm softly

“Why didn’t ya tell me?”, he insisted

“I thought you were busy… with Aaron, you are the new recruiter and all”

“Don't gimme that shit”, he said, you stopped to look at him

“I want to get out there again, I’m growing roots already”, you said, “and DC is right there, we might find something good”, but you weren’t answering his question, “for some reason, every time I want to go out there, you find reasons to keep me here”, you accused, “you are out there with Aaron, he needs you, and I’m… here”, you finished 

“I wanna keep ya safe!”, he said

“Don’t you think I want to keep YOU safe?”, you asked, “but I know… I can’t just chain you to the inside of the walls here, you go out there, every damn day, and I just have to sit and pray…”

“You pray?”, he asked, you shook your head

“Now you will have to do the same, have faith…”, you finished softly. 

“You don’t want me to come”, he said, “that’s what you are saying”, he said childishly. 

“No…”, you said softly. 

“Then I’ll go”

“There is no need”, you insisted

“Aaron can keep ‘mself from goin’ out ‘ere for a couple of days”

You didn’t even know why you were being this childish. You wanted to get out there, and DC was right there, the part that confused you, is why you didn’t want Daryl to come with you, you purposefully didn’t tell him, and now you were keeping him from going

You liked him, you liked having him around, you liked kissing him, but… you felt like you needed to do this, and if he was there… you were going to be nervous, you were going to be more worried about him, -not that he needed to be cared for though-, more than doing what you wanted to do, more than finding what you were looking for

And more than that… you wanted to test it, to spend a few days away, what will happen to him, to you, to what this was between you. You needed a few days to think, to gain perspective

But he was not going to let you go without him, looks like it.

“Why do you want to go?”, you asked, “it's a huge city, we might be going into a huge trap”

“Why do you wanna go?”, he asked then

“I want to make a big supply run, and not only supplies, but… maybe… intel run, maybe we find someone out there”

“Wha’ like the president?”, he mocked

“Or like a fucking army”, you said then, “scientists…”

“I’ll go with you”, you shook your head

“You need to be here, with our people”

“Why?”

“They might need you”, you said, “Rick… I’m taking Abraham and Rosita… a lot of firepower…”

“M’sure Glenn will stay”, he said

“I need you to stay”, you said more firmly, “I think if we both go and don’t make it, the group will fall apart”

“I dun’ want ya’ to get killed out ‘ere!”, he said, exasperated

“I won’t!”, you assured him

“I dun give a damn what happens here if you ain’t here!”, he said, exasperated, he actually surprised you with that, “M’goin”

“Daryl”

“(y/n)”, he called back. You shared looks, “I’m goin”, he said, and you barely nodded

“Fine”, you snapped

“Fine”, he echoed 

“But don’t you ever try to stop me from doing something, alright?”, you warned, “And I’m leading this mission!”,

“Fine”, he repeated

“Fine!”, you said, and you walked away from here. “Get your things!”, you said, you turned to see Rick and Tyresse watching the scene, with smiles on their faces, “traitor!”, you accused Rick, pointing at him with your finger

“If he goes, I’ll be calmer”, he said, his hands on his belt. 

You then met Abraham and Rosita

“Daryl is joining us”, you said with a forced smile. It was supposed to be Glenn, but now you realized they all had been plotting against you.

He joined you soon after, only carrying his crossbow and a crossed bag. 

“I’m the leader of this mission”, you said to the group, but specially to Daryl, “as such you’ll have to do as I say”

“Yes Ma’am”, he drawled, with an amused look on his face. 

“As Rosita and Abraham will know by now, I will hear opinions and ask for advice”, you said, you didn’t want to come out bossy, BUT… you needed to lead, that is what this was all about, sort of. A weak leader was one of the most dangerous things, especially in missions like this.

You stood in front of the truck and you opened the map you had procured.

“We go in one car, hoping to bring in more”, you said, “as we discussed, we take the 95 that will merge into the 1, in the first step in our mission… the pentagon”

“WHAT?”, asked Daryl, you looked at him with a warning in your eyes, and he raised his hands in surrender. It did sounded like a movie, but… that was the center of intelligence, there must be something there. 

“Then we cross the Potomac right to the center, if the war against the dead developed similarly as the other cities we have seen… we will find rest of the military there we can scavenge”, you said, “then into the CDC”, you said drawing into the map, “for the second item of this mission, intel…”, you said, “and for the third and fourth items… supplies and medicine, amongst the ten block radio around the monuments we will find three shopping malls and others, of course, I expect them to be completely scavenged by this point, so for that… in comes the plan B, we cross Anacosita river, into the Joint Base Andrews, see what we can find there, around, are some good neighborhoods we can scavenge in case we don’t have anything by then… ”

“Fine”, mumbled Daryl, seemingly impressed.

“Then from there we take the 495 back home”, you said triumphantly. “Let’s go”, you announced, Rick had sneaked in, hearing the entire conversation.

He hugged you, surprising you

“Come back”, he whispered in your ear, you nodded

“I will”, you assured him.

“You have 96 hours”, said Rick, “if you’re not back by then, we will go looking for you”

“Fine”, you said, smiling softly.

You said your goodbyes, all of your group was there, and even Deanna. Oh you really hoped you were right with this hunch. That you were not leading them into your untimely deaths. 

That’s why it needed to go well.

You checked your gun for the tenth time, and the magazine was full, you sharpened your ax, you had a first aid kit on you, in your backpack, all the things you could need…

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine”, said Rosita, “we trust you”, she said and you smiled nervously at her

You were dying to drive, but you let Abraham do it instead, you were delegating, that’s what leaders do, Rosita rode shotgun, and you and Daryl in the back.

You felt his gaze on you, so you preferred to watch the map obsessively, and then the outside. It was a nice day, sunny, but not hot, comfortable. You took a long breath.

Were you leading your family to their deaths?

“I was actually in Washington in the 90’s”, said Abraham, “I remember it as it was yesterday”

“Did you?”, you asked.

“Yes, I have a good layout of the city right up here in my coconut”, you all laughed 

“Good to know”, you laughed. And you knew he was trying to relax you.

Yes, uncharted territory. Washington was a big city, furthest from the top ten of most populated cities in the US, but still. And it was evacuated… this could be a “gold mine”, as it where….the answer to many of your problems. 

You felt Daryl’s gaze on you, so you returned the stare. You knew you had hurt him, by keeping this from him, you had to make it right.

“I’m sorry for not telling you”, you whispered, he only hummed, “I knew you were going to try and keep me there”

“S’fine”, he mumbled

“No it’s not, I lied to you”, you said, “and I’m sorry”. you meant it, he looked at you right in the eyes and nodded

“S’ok”, he said with a nod, you grabbed his hand, he interlocked his finger with yours and he squeezed gently. 

You were glad you had him with you right now, you didn't know what you were thinking, not telling him about this, not wanting him to come. 

. . .

It was like in the movies.

As you got out of the truck and looked over the government building. The center of intelligence of the US. The pentagon. It was huge, but empty, even though, it looked in perfect condition. not a single window was broken. 

Everything was like they just left the day before, as you entered slowly. It had been evacuated… promptly. A lot of offices… you didn't know what you expected of the building. 

“Its the second largest office building in the world”, said Abraham proudly, as you sneaked inside.

Again, you didn't know what you expected, if moats and secret passages, but it looked like a normal building, an office building, like five buildings one inside of another. this kind of intel, what was the government doing in certain years, was not going to help you know… 

This thing was like a maze, and it was dangerously quiet, not a walker on sight, and -if that made any sense-, made it even scarier. As you went into offices, you noticed all the file cabinets were empty, nor a paper on sight…

You made the call of not splitting, yes you were going to take four times as longer, but that was the call you had made, you weren’t splitting, so you went trough the offices more thoroughly and faster too.

You remembered every action movie you had seen, so, only looking under desks you had gathered a good number of loaded handguns. 

So far, so good. You went into the same side of the building, through six different buildings towards the center, and you managed to gaze upon the main courtyard, you saw it.

“So that’s what they did with all the intel”, muttered Abraham. it was all burnt to the very ground, was used to be a nice yard, you’d imagine, it was all burnt. as were the millions of documents that used to be in the offices.

“I guess even after all that, after the dead rose from their graves, they had priorities”, you mumbled. 

“Let’s find the defense secretary offices”, mumbled Abraham. 

You found a shit ton of handguns, but nothing more of interest, except for a bending machine with pretty much untouched candy, your favorite. You bagged those pretty quickly. 

You felt Daryl’s presence always behind you or on your side, but he didn't question any decision you made and you were grateful, you were becoming more excited as you advanced through the building. 

“So… what's the move, boss?”, asked Abraham, as you started to wander through the huntingly similar hallways.

“We have more handguns than people in Alexandria”, you said with your heavy bag on your back. “Let’s move on to the city center”, you said softly, “before it gets dark, I don’t want to be trapped inside here with no power and no light”. You said quickly. Then you looked at their determined faces, “is that alright?”, you asked then, doubting your own decision. 

“Yes”, said Rosita, and you got into a defensive position, walking back towards the entrance of the building, having scouted two sides of it, although you had come across places you couldn’t access due to lack of power and access cards. 

You couldn’t deny you were excited to be in the capital, you had sneaked into one of the coolest buildings in the US, but you were so on survival mode that you forgot to be hyped about it. 

“Don’t be afraid to boss us around”, said Abraham, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as you were walking out, he was as entertained as you, “we signed up for this”, you nodded, convinced. 

“Than you”

“You are making good calls”, he said with a nod

“Don’t say that yet”, you mumbled. 

You took a couple of walkers that were coming for you from the parking lot, and you got into the truck again.

Abraham tossed you the keys

“Your turn boss”, he said, chuckling, and Rosita got up in the back seats, and you and Daryl on the front. You took a long breath. It's been a while since you hadn't driven. But it was like riding a bike, you never forget it. 

You were invigorated by the success so far, so you started the truck.

“It’s a stick”, mumbled Daryl by your side, doubting your skills

“So it is”, it ran without trouble. as you put the truck in motion in 1st, and then 2nd. Daryl seemed impressed. “What?”, you teased, “I know how to drive stick”, he just smiled at you. “Lead me please”

“Yes Ma’am”, he said, opening the map. 

The roads were mostly intact, so far, as were the big bridges that went over the Potomac river. This city hasn't been bombed like Atlanta had, and it was mostly intact from what you could see, just inhabited.

The Washington monument stood tall, you were embarrassed to admit you got distracted watching it and almost ran over a walker and you got out of the way.

“Ups”, you mumbled. As Daryl chuckled. You had not trouble running over a dead one, BUT, it could jeopardize the truck, it could break it, so you did not intend on doing that if you had the road space to fo around it, “Sorry about that”.

“Can’t believe we’re here after all this time”, said Rosita with a big smile.

“It’s surreal”, you whispered. You felt something strange, in the truck you meant. “Does this thing have 4-wheel drive?”, you asked Abraha,, who just chuckled

“Don’t think so”, it was an old truck. But you felt it heavy… You looked through the rearview mirror to the back of the truck where your bags where, but you knew for a fact, that even with the guns, you didn’t bring anything heavy-er… and when you saw something move back there, you hit the brakes so hard you learned like three new curse words in spanish

“WHAT THE HELL?”, asked Daryl, who might as well have crashed into the console.

“You got ourselves a stowaway”, you grunted. 

You took your gun and your ax and jumped out of the truck after opening the door and that is what got them all in alert, jumping out too. You were still over the bridge. the coast was clear,

You grabbed the thick tarp made of cloth you had to cover your things, and there he was, trembling in fear

“Eugene!?”, asked Rosita.

“Hey”, he muttered

“Damn”, muttered Abraham, then he looked at you, “how did you know?”, he asked, you just smiled

“Eugene why didn’t you tell us?”, asked Daryl, helping him out of the back of the truck

“It was a last minute call and I didn’t want you to change plans, and I thought if I did this… and you wouldn’t notice… it would be safer”

“That makes no sense”, you said, “you should have told us”

“He has a point”, muttered Rosita, and she did, this was planned for four, not five, you should have taken another car.

“I want it to see it”, he said, pointing at the monument, “but I also wanted Daryl to come and protect us”, he said, you frowned, “so he could protect you while Rosita and Abraham protect me”, he said straight to you

“I am really in the “I need protection” team?”, you asked, that insulted you a bit. You thought you were holding your ground, and not in the ”weaker” part of the team.

“No you are not!”, said Rosita, who had been giving you lessons in hand to hand combat.

“Fine, I’m sorry”, as a leader you needed to learn to make decisions when situations like this presented themselves.

“Abraham?”, you called, “Ride in the back, with our biggest gun, that view will alert us if something is strange, watch out for snipers”, you told him, in a very professional manner

“Yes Ma’am”, he said, climbing into the back

“Remember our code in the RV?”, you asked him, “two taps for slowing down, three taps for stopping, one long one to watch out”

“Indeed”, he said. You then turned to Eugene

“Well, like I said, too many times already, you are under my command”, you said Eugene and he nodded quickly, “and under my protection”, he opened his eyes widely, “let’s go, before it gets dark we need to find a safe place to spend the night”, you said surely. 

And, with a slight change of plans, you entered the very center of Washington DC.

With no idea what waited for you there. 

taglist! <3

@crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

[or0ch1maru]

can i request the akatsuki members reaction to the reader wearing a prosthetic mask and having burn scars under it? (like sally face lol)

Omg this yes

The akatsuki has seen and been through A LOT. They may be hardened criminals but they would also be the most understanding about pretty much everything. They would just show it differently.

🏮Tobi:

•I feel like he’d be the most understanding since he wears one for similar reasons. He would never pressure you to remove your mask or show your face. He’d be so patient about it too, even if that meant waiting years.

•when the time comes when you feel comfortable enough to show him, he’d look at you with pride. I could see him gently caressing your scars and telling you how proud he is of you and that you’re so beautiful/ handsome.

•Tobi would never hesitate to show you how much he cares/loves you. Especially if he knows you’re feeling a little insecure. Would plaster your scars with kisses and gentle touches. He would also go out and buy you creams, whether it’s scar cream, or just regular moisturizer. Tobi would take his time massaging it into your skin, not missing a spot.

•he would offer his mask to you(if yours broke or it didn’t feel comfortable against your skin) Tobi would think you’re the cutest person in the world if you took him up on that offer, but yet again he thinks you’re the cutest person ever regardless.

🏮Zetsu:

•I personally feel like white Zetsu would be more comforting towards you about it. He wouldn’t push or pry, he’d be curious yes, but he wouldn’t force you to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.

•black Zetsu would keep his curiosity to himself and would be content either way. If you trusted him enough with showing him your face, he’d never break your trust. He wouldn’t tell anybody, no matter how much they would ask or beg even.

•all in all, Zetsu would be happy as long as you are. He would feel honored that you trusted him.

•has a hard time voicing his affections and feelings so most of the time Zetsu would randomly caress and touch your face, over the mask when around others, and would pull your mask up so he can see your face when you’re alone with him.

🏮Itachi:

•sweet boy.

•just like Tobi, Itachi would never coerce you. Would be so attentive and patient.

•when the day came that you took your mask off in front of him for the first time, he’d fall in love with you all over again. To know that somebody feels so safe around him to show him something nobody else knows, he’d be so happy.

•the first thing he would do is kiss you. Wanting you to know that he loves you no matter what. (We love a non judgmental man)

•Itachi would always ask you before touching your scars and would never get upset if you said no. (If they were still sensitive or you weren’t comfortable with that yet, etc)

🏮Kisame:

•big shark man..oooof. Kisame is the type of man to love you for who you are, no matter what. Even if you had webbed feet or four eyes.

•kisa has gone through moments where he would feel insecure due to his looks and sheer size. Always wondering how he could be loved by somebody.

•so when you decided to take your mask off in front of him for the first time, his eyes would be hearts. No literally ❤️_❤️, this would be how he’d stare at you for the first few minutes after.

•from that point on he would cup your face in his big hands, planting a big ole kiss on you. When it gets colder, he’d use his body heat to keep your face warm. Knows that scars can be sensitive and sometimes even painful when the weather shifts.

🏮Kakuzu

•never really cared for anything or anybody except for money so when you came along, you intrigued him more than cash ever did. Which is rare for him.

•would be very accepting towards the mask, since he wears one too.

•wouldn’t voice it right away but he would think you’re a total badass when he sees you without it for the first time. Makes a comment about you being a mini him. Tends to use humor and soft jokes as his main way of showing affection.

•if you ever felt comfortable enough, would totally let you wear his mask. He would think you look so cute. He’s also a big gift giver so I could imagine him getting you a custom mask. Would make that man feel good seeing you walk around wearing something he gave you.

🏮Hidan:

•our sadistic baby. When you two first met, he made a comment about you being just like Kakuzu. “What’s with you people? Why hide all the time?”

•wouldn’t think much of it at the beginning, only because he’s around a handful of people who wear masks and use other things to hide their identity.

•when he puts 2 and 2 together and realizes you wear it for a different reason, he would be so protective of you. If he sees someone trying to remove your mask, he’d freak. Say bye bye. If he hears others talking bad about you for wearing it, he would make sure they know to keep their mouths shut.

•his protective nature would only increase after you show him your face for the first time.

•whenever the two of you are out and about, he would keep a spare tube of moisturizer on him in case you needed it.

•he’s always seen as some cultist asshole but he has a soft side(if you disagree, argue with the wall lol) would coo cute little praises and compliments towards you. He’d want you to know how pretty you are at all times.

🏮deidara:

•would react similarly to Hidan at the beginning. He’s so used to Sasori hiding his real face/body from the world so he wouldn’t bat an eye towards your mask.

•when you got comfortable around him to show him, you’d be his muse.

•deidara would draw and make small sculptures of you with his clay. Would place them proudly on his desk/bedside table, etc. only if you want him too, of course. he wouldn’t do it if he felt like you weren’t 100% in on the idea.

•would marvel at you anytime he got, even during times when you two were around others and your mask was back on. Deidara loved the idea that he has his own little private art piece that only he sees.

🏮Sasori:

•just like deidara, Sasori wouldn’t think twice about why you keep yourself hidden. Wouldn’t force, push, pry, or beg you to take it off. He wants you to feel safe around him for you to do so.

•Sasori is more reserved and quiet compared to the rest of his akatsuki mates, but that would change the day you showed him your face.

•compliments such as “gods you’re irresistible”, and “come here, let me paint/draw you” would slip past the red heads lips.

•his biggest pride is his art, so just like Dei, you would become Sasori’s muse. Would love nothing more than to sketch your features all the time. He wants you to know that he loves you. So much

•another thing I could see him doing, as long as you’re comfortable with it, would be for him to draw or paint on your scars. His paintbrush would be soft against your skin as he moves the brush all along your face. Sasori would take in the soft hums and contented noises you make as he does this.

🏮Konan:

•would think your mask is cute, especially if you added things to it to make it suit your personality more(stickers, small drawings, etc)

•Konan would compliment your mask all the time. “You’re so cute, you know that right?” Or “I don’t know how much cuter you could get. Mask or not.”

•she would want to add something to your mask, would definitely make an origami butterfly to stick on there somewhere. I could see her choosing your cheek. She would also randomly come up to you and kiss your mask

•the day that you show Konan what you look like without it, she wouldn’t say anything at first. She would simply plant her lips softly against your scars, making sure to cover them completely with little affectionate smooches.

•everyday after that when you two are alone she’d lift your mask slightly, wanting to see your face as it’s her happy place. Would smother you in soft kisses before gently pulling it back down.

🏮pain:

•being the leader of a criminal organization can be hectic, chaotic and stressful. Wouldn’t pay much mind to the mask for quite some time, not because he doesn’t care but he wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if he draws to much attention to it.

•he’d be in his office when you knock. His first thought would be that you’re going to talk to him about a mission but would turn speechless when you take your mask off. His gaze lingers on your scars as he takes in your beauty.

•pain would gesture you to come to him, pulling you into his lap as he gently traces your scars with his finger.

•he would reassure you that you’re beautiful, and that he is so proud of you for taking such a big step in trust.

•eye contact is a big thing for him, as he feels like it’s an intimate connection and would always make sure to look you in the eyes when he compliments you so you know he means it.

I hope you enjoy this, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so excuse this if it sucks. I’d love more soft writing prompts about the akatsuki🥰

[aviscarrentals]

Yelp • Chapter 1 ls2

masterlist previous chapter next chapter

words: 1.5k

warnings: cursing, implied off"screen" deaths, injury/blood, implied character death

notes: this first chapter is mostly just exposition (and a little sad i know), but at the very end you get a sneak peak of the action before everything turns totally cray. (there will be more defined logan x parker in the future chapters as well.) parker is supposed to be the "reader" character. i decided to use a gender-neutral name instead of y/n because that's not my thing. she/her pronouns and feminine descriptions are used, but her gender is not a major plot point at all, so you can totally still read this imagining parker however you want. i hope you enjoy!

“God, it’s so weird just going right back to school like nothing’s even happened,” Parker started.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Five fucking kids are dead, but science! Calculus! English!” he finished mockingly.

“Well, four,” Oscar corrected him, Lily nodding along.

Logan let out a large exhale and nodded. “Crazy he survived that shit considering how fucked up the rest of them were.”

“Well, you know what they say about quiet kids,” Arthur chimed in. The other five immediately turned to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Fred questioned incredulously.

“What?” Arthur demanded. “They’re like actually really cool and badass and stuff.”

“Huh?” Logan inquired with a furrowed brow. “I thought the thing was that they’re like… kinky and shit.”

“Mate, what the fuck?” Arthur responded defensively. “Why would I say that?”

“Well, that’s like the thing people say,” Logan bickered. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ve never heard anyone say that in my entire life.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur retorted, making them all burst out into laughter for a brief moment before they all returned to a somber silence when they remembered the conversation that led them here in the first place.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to class?” Logan pressed, his pleading tone making it obvious that he was asking for his own sake instead of his girlfriend’s.

“No,” Parker laughed him off, pushing his chin off of her shoulder and his arms from around her waist. “The health room is all the way on the other side of the building. You’ll be late. Again.”

“Yeah, well-” Logan began to protest before his newest complaint was interrupted by a loud crack behind him that made the both of them jump. They turned around to see Zhou Guanyu staring back at them guiltily.

“Sorry,” he started to apologize “I just dropped-”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Logan interrupted, as Parker reached down to pick up the textbook that fell from his locker.

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile when she handed it back to him.

“No problem,” she reassured him, returning the expression. “It’s the least I can do, especially considering…” She trailed off, instead gesturing to his left arm which was fully encased in a sling.

After a moment of awkward silence, the girl spoke up again. “Um, what class do you have next? I can help you carry your things,” she offered.

“Bio,” he answered, “but it’s alright,” the boy quickly added. “It’s not far, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way-”

“No, that’s perfect,” she interrupted. “I’ve got psych first period, so I’m headed to the science wing too,” she explained, lifting the heavy load from his hands, right as the morning bell rang.

“Alright,” Logan said, leaning over his girlfriend’s shoulder to give her an instinctual kiss on the cheek. “I better get going. If I’m late to Mrs. K’s class one more time I think she might beat me to death with one of the CPR dummies.”

Parker immediately bore her eyes into her boyfriend’s soul at his word choice, the poor boy not remembering his audience until the words had already left his mouth. Looking like a deer in headlights, he simply turned around and scurried off.

“Sorry,” Parker apologized once she turned back to Zhou, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said, chuckling.

“Shit, we better get going or we’ll be late too.”

“You guys know Zhou, right?” Parker asked the group in front of her as she led the incapacitated boy to her customary lunch spot under the oak trees in the school courtyard. The two were met with a chorus of “yeah”s and welcomes.

“I hope it’s okay that I sit with you guys today,” he asked timidly.

“Yeah, great to have you, man,” Liam assured him as Lily reached across the table to relieve Parker of the extra lunch tray.

“Didn’t we have trig together last year, mate?” Dennis piped up to ask him.

“Um… I’m not sure. I don’t think I would recognize you in class,” the bashful boy responded, leading to a roaring bout of laughter from the crowd.

“Goddamn! He got your ass, Hauger,” Jack said through a fit of childish giggles.

As the conversation continued, Parker couldn’t help but notice that one of the usual members of their crew was missing. “Hey, babe,” she said as she nudged her boyfriend’s rib to get his attention.

“What?”

“Where’s Paul?” she asked, concerned. “He said he was coming to school when I checked in on him yesterday,” the girl recalled.

“Yo, Bearman,” Logan called quietly to the younger boy sitting across from them.

“What’s up?” Ollie questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen Paul at all today? Did he change his mind about coming in?”

“No, he’s here,” Ollie informed the couple. “I think he probably just wants some time to himself right now. Usually…” he trailed off.

Parker and Logan nodded in understanding. Usually Paul wasn’t the only Aron present at the lunch table.

“How are you holding up?” Parker inquired, giving the boy’s hand a gentle squeeze. Paul had lost a brother, but Ollie had lost the next best thing. His best friend. “I’m alright, thanks for asking,” he replied a little too quickly, flitting his eyes away from the couple before abruptly turning to rejoin the ongoing conversation to his right.

Logan and Parker shared a sad glance, but decided it was better to leave the boy be. Paul probably wasn’t the only one who needed space.

“So,” Arthur’s voice rang out, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ve got Wednesday off, what say you all we hang at my place tomorrow night.”

“OMG! Sleepover!” Jack shrieked in a high pitched voice, eliciting a few snorts from the kids surrounding him.

“Shut up, Doofus,” Arthur shouted at him playfully.

“That’s not my name, Lecdumbass,” the other boy snapped back, overdramatically rolling his eyes in jest.

“Anyways…” Arthur hollered over his friends’ audible amusement, attempting to gather their attention again. “Is everybody in? You too, Guanyu,” he clarified, to which the meek boy simply nodded, much to the others’ delight. “Awesome!”

As everyone else agreed to the plan, Jack interrupted once again. “Can’t. My parents have been totally freaking out over all this shit. You know how they are. So, unfortunately, the only party I will be attending is Doohan family game night hosted at 15 Fairview Road. Sorry, gang.”

“Well, hope you have fun playing Scrabble with Mummy tonight,” Liam teased.

“Yeah,” Dennis joined in sarcastically, “maybe if you’re lucky she’ll let you have a scoop of chocolate ice cream too. With sprinkles!”

“Alright, fuck you all, I’m out of here,” Jack countered, beginning to gather his things in perfect unison with the end-of-lunch bell.

“Bye-bye, Doofenshmirtz!” Parker called to the boy’s back.

“See ya when Mama Doohan lets you out of your cage again,” her boyfriend added with a big grin, made even wider when Jack simply flipped them off as he continued walking away.

Dennis had worked his ass off all summer. He wanted that spot on the team and he wanted it bad. So, in the month leading up to tryouts, he had to keep up his training. And if Coach saw how dedicated he was maybe that would benefit him too.

After another grueling workout under the hot September sun, Dennis made his way back to the empty locker room. He could smell, see, feel, and taste the sweat on his body, making him strip off his soaked through shirt before the door had even fully closed behind him. He needed a shower ASAP.

All of a sudden, he felt the air knocked out of his lungs as his back hit the ground, letting out a strident wheeze. He laid there for a moment, groaning in pain and sweating even harder than before. Wait, no. That wasn’t sweat…

The boy wearily lifted his head off the ground, still recovering from the harsh impact of his fall, only to see the entire floor of the room flooded.

“What the fuck?” he sighed out with the little breath he was able to collect.

He slowly lifted himself back to his feet, ignoring his spinning head, until he looked down at where he had been only to be greeted by a river of pink floating in the shallow water. He reached his fingers to softly touch the back of his throbbing head and was immediately met with an intense pain and sticky, red blood covering his hand.

The boy sluggishly stumbled forward toward the sinks in order to better assess the situation and clean his open wound. The only sounds he could make out were his laboured breaths and the splashes of his feet meeting the puddles beneath him. Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash. Splish. He paused for a moment as the world spun around him.

Splash.

But the sound of that extra step behind him didn’t register in time for him to save himself.

taglist (if you would like to be added or removed just lmk!): @gaypoetsblog @koris-009 @feralnando @disneyprincemuke @osbuzz @avaayalaa @faithshouseofchaos @thearchieves @scuderia-piastri @lovelytsunoda @localwhoore @foreveralbon @vroomvroomcircuit @mclarengf @lipringlrh

[negrowhat]

15 Days BL Challenge the Quadriquel

56. Most badass BL character

When I think about BADASS Character I think about Action Badasses so that's what I went with for my selection.

Tai from Two Worlds. Badass in both universes. He never left Kram's side. He was always there to protect him and rescue him, but he also listened to him and did his best not to overstep even when he knew best. He was so gentle and so sweet with Kram. He was quick thinking and sharp and precise with everything he did. We rarely caught him lacking. I've never seen another character help orchestrate so many plans just because a cute boy pleaded with him. Also he carried around a big ass Rambo knife and knew how to use it AND he had the most heroic and daring rescue I've ever seen. Tai is a total badass.

Chisoo from Long Time No See. Hello??? A trained assassin? And he was excellent at it. The top in his field. He was kicking ass left and right. When he finally decided to quit (because he never wanted to do it) and his angry boss kidnapped his assassin boyfriend he took down the whole syndicate. He beat everyone's asses. He wasn't about to beg and plead with a person who treated him like a dog. He beat down the boss and rescued his honey and got his happily ever after.

Tew from My Dear Gangster Oppa. Just like Chisoo, Tew was groomed for the mafia. He was so favored that he became the Boss' second hand man and when he wanted to quit (for love duh) they didn't just let him go he had to play a game of Russian Roulette. And when his lil boyfriend was kidnapped he fought his way through to rescue him. I love that while he was actively dating Guy we got to see him being so sweet with guy but also got to see him literally breaking arms and beating down people while being in the Mafia. I like that we got to see that he was good at what he did. His whole aura gave off Badass and I wanted him to beat Wan's ass up so bad but I did like that he did terrify him at least.

Dong from Mr. Cinderella. The streets raised my boy. He was LITERALLY a thug and he didn't take any shit from anyone. I thought it was so badass that he was able to become a lil house hubby who was still ready to kick some ass. When Dr. Khoa's homewrecking boyfriend tried to interfere Dong was calling him out and he did knock ole boy out at one point. He didn't allow Khoa's sister to talk to him crazy either. He was just so badass to me and I love him.

Palm from Never Let Me Go. He was an 18 yr old boy who could fight and shoot. He was always so mindful of everything around him and he really did do an amazing job of protecting Nueng. Like he stayed ready. And I thought it was so badass when he was able to publicly be Nueng's bodyguard because they looked like such a power couple. I think Palm was the best bodyguard I've ever seen in a series.

Chen Yi and Ai Di from Kiseki: Dear to Me. The literal definition of power couple. They were a badass duo but also badasses separately. Ai Di was so fiery and ready to attack at any moment. He was so smol but so powerful and the gang they belonged to were absolutely terrified of him because he was just that unhinged. Chen Yi cared more about keeping Ai Di safe than causing harm to others. I think he fought off so many people because he didn't want Ai Di to get hurt and he the man did take a rubber bullet for him. I love them.

Tharn from the Sign. I'm not even talking about the cop aspect, I'm talking about Tharn's need to keep Phaya safe. Those visions kept Tharn on high alert and he was always springing into action to save Phaya's life and he never failed. He always arrived right on time to save him and had been keeping that man safe with part of his own soul since their first lifetime together.

[tonythr]

Picking up Monarch Wings triggers Infected Crossroads and there is a lore reason for that

Another interesting fact that (in my opinion) is not talked about enough is that the Infection doesn't corrupt the crossroads after we take monarch wings just because it's a convenient point from a gameplay perspective to introduce the player to stronger enemies, or to show us the passage of time. It's because taking away the wings from that specific location directly affects the spread of the Infection.

In the game, we can clearly see how a specific segment of the Ancient Basin is overrun by the Infection. I'm talking about two big rooms in the western part of the Basin, one where we fight the Broken Vessel and the other where we encounter the Mawlurks. There is a third one near the Basin tram station of the lower line, but I assume it's just part of the same thing, just the Infection seeping through the ceiling of the main room. There is also the room that contains Monarch Wings, which is completely free of the Infection, but I'll get to it.

Those glowing bubbles and pulsing vines and orange clouds of fog are indicative of severe corruption by the Infection. Before Infected Crossroads, we see them only in special places (like the Glowing Womb aspid nest) where the Infection had a lot of opportunity to become gas, then liquid, then flesh for one reason or another (with the aspid nest that reason is probably the symbiotic relationship between aspids and the Infection itself, where the aspids act like carriers of the disease that help it spread).

And the western part of Basin is the most unique place in that sense, because, aside from the crossroads, it's the only place where 'that flesh came to life'. But what is the reason for that? Why don't we see those glowing blobs and lightseeds in any other part of the map, even though it's clear that even the most remote parts of Hallownest were influenced by the Infection? What is so unique about this part of the Basin?

It's the wind.

The picture doesn't show the vines and particles moving around that much, but anyone who played the game probably remembers that badass storm that we see and hear the moment we enter the room after the big spike tunnel. The orange glow of the Infection also makes its first appearance in this particular room (if we're talking about this specific part of the Basin, of course). That leads me to believe that the wind is somehow connected to the spread of the Infection in the confines of this area. And we already know why this wind is there in the first place.

The room where we pick up the Monarch Wings is the only one in this area that holds no sign of the Infection whatsoever. The wind in this room also feels much stronger, and it blows with a unique sound specifically near the Wings statue. But most importantly, it stops the moment the Knight consumes the Monarch Wings.

After that, the whole area actually becomes less infected. The changes are rather subtle, but visible.

Look:

LOOK:

And, despite the common misconception, it's consuming the Wings that serves as the in-game trigger that sets off the Infected Crossroads. You can literally kill BV without picking up the Wings, and then return to the Crossroads to see that it's still (relatively) uninfected. It's a solid proof that Monarch Wings and the wind that they create is what affects the spread of the Infection.

After we pick up the Wings, the Infectious mass partially leaves this part of the Basin and moves to the Crossroads, since that's when we see all those drastic changes. Now, that might give us some interesting implications about how the Infection actually works. Possibly, reuniting with its main source inside the Black Egg Temple gives it more power, resulting in total corruption of the Crossroads, since we see that Infected Crossroads has way more bubbles, lightseeds, vines etc. That actually leads me to believe that the Infection actually may have very specific physical limits, and that the total mass of the matter that it can create is finite and measurable (at least as long as the Sealed Vessel is still intact and holds the source of it inside itself).

Like, why doesn't it spread all throughout Hallownest even when the Seals are broken and the door is open? Even when the Hollow Knight is unchained, the Infection doesn't spread anywhere beyond the Crossroads, it stays exactly the way it was with only one Dreamer taken down or only Wings being picked up. So yeah, my theory here is that:

Picking up Wings and killing a Dreamer triggers the spread of the Infection in different ways (Wings lets another part of the Infection's mass give power to its main source, killing a Dreamer loosens the door's Seal and lets the Infection out), but ultimately leads to one result, that being Infected Crossroads.

The Infection doesn't spread past Crossroads because Hollow Knight, despite its failure, is still strong enough to hold it at bay.

The Infection operates like some kind of shapeless mass that can be gas, liquid, solid and sentient. It's basically a matter that holds a will (that will, of course, belongs to the Radiance).

That is why destroying the Infection (instead of sealing it away) was deemed impossible.

Although that leaves many questions about the Pale King and his relation to the Radiance. Did he know that the source of the Infection was his old pal Moth Goddess? Did he deliberately choose not to confront her, but instead try and seal her away? Was he stupid? Or did he have some secret internal motives?

...That is not exactly what this post is about. I would like to get back to the Wings thing now.

Another thing that led me to believe that it's that particular Infectious mass from Basin that corrupts the Crossroads after we pick up the Wings is the movement of the particles inside that part of Basin. Particularly, the Void particles. Before we pick up Wings, those particles follow the wind. After that, they start to slowly rise upwards, just like in the rest of the location. That gives us two interesting conclusions:

After we pick up Wings, the Basin Infection escapes upwards, eventually reaching Crossroads.

The Void that resides in Basin is also affected by the Monarch Wind.

By the way, another interesting fact: the orange fog that we see spreading throughout Infected Crossroads actually moves according to its position relative to the Black Egg Temple.

This means that Team Cherry does put deeper meaning into how they make background particles move, and it means that I'm not insane for reading this much into that! Yay!

Now, back to the Void being influenced by the Wind. Like I said, the part of the Void (which, probably, is also a matter that has its own mass, albeit maybe not as measurable) that resides in that part of Basin is also influenced by the Monarch Wind along with the Infection. It might imply that, like the Infection, the Void is trapped inside that area.

Or maybe it's not trapped. Maybe it just circulates there, so that something else can be trapped inside its currents. Ancient Basin is basically the Void's home, so I really doubt that whatever is going on in that area affects the overall condition of the Void as a whole. But we don't know that. What we DO know is that the Infection there is certainly trapped, unable to reunite with its source, being forced to slowly find ways to adapt, becoming gas, then liquid, then flesh, then reviving the corpse of the Knight's Lost Kin.

So what if that was the whole point?

Ok, we know that Pale King was looking for ways to fight off the Infection and eventually decided to harness the power of the Void to do so. He created Kingsmoulds, Wingsmoulds, probably experimented with the Void inside his workshop, eventually coming up with the idea of a Pure Vessel... But what if what we see in the Monarch Wings location is another part of his struggles to come up with a plan to lock up the Infection?

See, we KNOW that the Monarch Wings were Pale King's deal.

We know he wore one of those.

We know that those flies that (presumably) give the Knight those Wings are called the Monarch Flies (or rather Monarchflys? I dunno, I wouldn't trust those mushrooms on how to spell things).

And we also know that the Pale King has some connection to the wind.

So perhaps that area is a place where Pale King was trying to contain the Infection without trying to put it inside a live Vessel. Maybe it was the first prototype for his plan to see how the Void, being channeled with his monarch power, would keep the Infection at bay? Maybe there was another reason as to why that part of the Infection should have been sealed away?

Whatever it is, my overall theory is this:

The Monarch Wings contain some kind of power that is strongly connected to the Pale King. This power creates a magic Wind that makes the Void residing in Ancient Basin move and circulate, resulting in a part of the Infection (perhaps one of the remaining parts from the first time it started destroying Hallownest) being trapped in the area of that Wind's range, isolating it from the outside world and making it start to form gas clouds, liquid puddles, bubbles and lightseeds. Once the Knight removes the Wings, consuming them for its own purposes, the once trapped part of the Infection reunites with its main source at the Black Egg Temple. As a result, the Infection's will becomes stronger, and it starts corrupting nearby lands (although it's still being held back by the Sealed Vessel), creating what we know as Infected Crossroads.

Ok I'm actually done. I hope this is comprehensible enough to read and not too boring or too obvious. I just REALLY wanted to talk about it, since everything about this part of the game gives me chills.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Hell of A Greeting – Timothy McGee

I got the call that every girlfriend, wife, sister, and friend dreads to get. I couldn't find my voice as the nurse told me about my boyfriend's condition. Apparently, Tim was shot in the field. The entire drive from our shared apartment to the hospital, my mind was only focused on the what ifs, the oh nos, the please don't let this actually be happening, the only horrible things could happen. I parked my car and headed inside as the only thing I could think of was that there was no way the hospital would let me in.

"Hello," said the sweet nurse behind the desk. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"I'm here to see Timothy McGee," I said, my voice shaky. "He's a federal agent with NCIS."

"Give me one moment," she said sweetly. I held my breath and tried to wait patiently.

"Excuse me," an older gentleman said, making me turn around. "Did you say you were here to see Agent McGee?"

"I am," I stuttered.

"How do you know McGee?" A man around mine and Tim's age walked over.

"Tim's my boyfriend," I said eyeing the two men. "Who are you?"

"McGeek has a girlfriend?" The younger man laughed.

The older man smiled as he held his hand out. "Agent Gibbs," he introduced. "I work with McGee."

"The famous Agent Gibbs," I smiled, feeling myself relax a little. I reached forward and shook his hand. "I've heard wonderful things about you. Tim always tells me that I should come to you if I'm ever in trouble."

"He's absolutely right," Gibbs smiled at me. "What do we call you?"

"Y/F/N Y/L/N."

"Does he talk about me, Y/F/N Y/L/N? Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo?" He smirked as he asked me.

"Yep," I answered slowly.

"Good things?" He smiled cheekily.

"Not the kind of good things you're hoping," I chuckled.

"I like her," a woman agent laughed.

"You must be Agent Ziva David," I smiled. "Tim says you're a total badass."

"I see McGee described me correctly," Ziva smirked at Tony who responded with an eye roll.

I looked over and saw a girl with black hair, three-inch platforms, and a dog collar. "You must be Abby."

"I am!" She said bouncing up and down. I gasped when she wrapped me in a hug. "It's so nice to meet you. I've noticed McGee's been a lot happier lately. It must be because of you."

"Let her breathe, Abs," Gibbs chuckled as he pulled her off of me.

"Sorry," she smiled softly at me. "I'm a hugger."

"Don't worry about it," I said. I lowered my voice and added, "I am too."

"Miss?"

We all turned around to see the nurse walking back to the nurse's station.

"Yes?" I asked, stepping toward the desk.

"The doctors are just finishing up with Agent McGee's surgery and will be on his way to recovery soon," she told me. My entire body relaxed until she cleared her throat. "Unfortunately, I cannot let you see him. Family only, I'm afraid."

Gibbs stepped forward, put his hand on my lower back, and showed the nurse his badge.

"This young woman is Agent McGee's emergency contact," he said. "Which means, she's the only one, other than us, allowed to see him."

"Of course," she stuttered. "Once he is settled in a room, I can take you. Until then, feel free to have a seat in the waiting room."

She looked at everyone before walking away. Agent Gibbs leaned in and whispered, "Come with us, Ms. Y/N. We can wait together."

* * * * *

As we waited, Tim's team interrogated me about our relationship. Tim and I met 18 months ago at a local bookstore. We ran into each other and Tim helped me pick up my books. He bought me a coffee and we've been dating ever since.

"McLoverboy always was clumsy," DiNozzo laughed.

"It was my fault," I corrected. "I had a stack of books and turned into him. I'm the clutz in the relationship, Agent DiNozzo. Not Tim."

"I find that hard to believe," DiNozzo mumbled. I gasped when Gibbs smacked DiNozzo across the back of the head.

"Not surprised McGee got a girl before you, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he sent me a look.

"How are things going with you two?" Abby asked.

"Things are really good," I said, my face burning. "We actually just moved in together."

"Really?!" Abby squealed. "That's amazing!"

The smile fell off my face when I remembered where we were. I looked down at my hands and tried to stop the tears. Suddenly, someone reached over and put their hand on top of mine.

"He's going to be fine," Gibbs whispered. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes.

"How do you know?"

"Because," he smiled at me, "he's got you."

"That doesn't mean he'll be fine," I whispered. 

"It does," Gibbs corrected, "because he's got something to fight for."

"Agents?"

Everyone looked up to see a doctor walking toward us.

"How is he?" Gibbs asked.

"We were able to get the bullet out and stop the bleeding," the doctor told us. "He shouldn't do anything too much for the next couple of weeks, but I expect him to make a full recovery. You can see him now if you like. The anesthesia is still wearing off but he should wake up within the next thirty minutes."

"Thank you, doc," Gibbs said. When the doctor left us, everyone turned toward me. "Come on, Ms. Y/N. We'll walk with you."

I stood up and nervously wiped my hands on my jeans. Abby reached over and grabbed one of my hands. We were quiet as we walked down the hallway. When we got to his room, Tony grabbed the door and held it open for me. The minute I saw him, my hand flew to my mouth and I choked on a sob.

Gibbs wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led me inside. My knees were shaking so badly that I felt like I could barely walk. Gibbs led me over to a chair next to the bed. I collapsed into it and instantly reached for Tim's hand.

"We'll give you a minute," Gibbs whispered. He squeezed my shoulder before taking the team and waiting in the hallway. I scanned Tim's body and saw bruises, cuts, and dirt.

"Please wake up," I whispered. "I need you, Tim."

I leaned my head down and rested my forehead on his arm. I'm not sure how long I sat like that but as soon as I heard him moan, my head shot up.

"Tim?" I watched his face closely. "Come on, baby. Open your eyes for me."

A few beats passed before Tim's eyes finally fluttered open. I held my breath as he finally looked at me.

"Y/N?"

"Hey, you," I said, my voice breaking. "The hospital called me. . . They said. . . And then your team. . ."

"You met my team?" He smiled weakly at me. The tears began to stream down my face as I nodded.

"They are exactly like you described," I whispered. "Gibbs was tough but sweet. Ziva was strong-headed. Abby was a ball of sunshine. And Tony instantly hit on me."

Tim laughed weakly as he intertwined our fingers. His smile dropped when he saw I was still crying.

"I'm okay," he whispered. "I promise, sweetheart. I'm okay."

"I know," I said weakly. "But still. . . It's the call that everyone who loves a police officer or federal agent or someone in the Navy is terrified to get."

"You love me?" He smirked at me.

"Of course. You know that."

Tim pulled off my hand until I was lying next to him. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

"I do," he whispered. "I do know that just like how you know I love you."

I closed my eyes and cuddled more into his chest. Tim tightened his arms around me as he added, "I'm sorry you got that call, baby."

"I'm just glad you're okay."

"I'm glad you met my team," Tim chuckled. 

"It was a hell of a greeting," I scoffed. 

"I know," he laughed. 

"I would've preferred meeting them at Thanksgiving dinner or the NCIS Christmas party."

"Me too, baby," Tim sighed almost dreamily. "Me too."

[angels-read-fanfiction-too]

Could u pls do Leo Valdez x fem reader who is usually very nice but snapped when someone insulted Leo. Thank u if you do complete my request.

Leo Valdez x kind! reader who defends him!

This boy is SHOCKED.

He gets passed the shock quickly to be the biggest cheerleader ever.

"GET THEIR ASS Y/N!!!"

He's literally so excited and proud.

He was getting kind of embarrassed and feeling bad that you had to be around when people were being mean to him and was getting all awkward until you spoke up.

He's never felt more cared for! Plus he's totally into how assertive and angry were being lolol

This is definitely his "i want them so bad. How do i save up for a diamond ring?" moment

He gains his confidence back and starts backing you up fr

After the bullies back off, he's attached to you for the rest of the week.

He always has heart eyes for you but NOW? it's borderline cartoonish.

He clings onto your arm like a dog and brags all the time about how you're actually badass like he knew you were.

Tries to make you swear again if you did while defending him. He's not demeaning or anything, he just wants to hear it again.

Depends on how far into the relationship you two are but if you truly trust each other and it's been a while, he'll talk to you and admit that he's always wanted someone to truly have his back and to be someone's main priority.

He's such a cutie pie :3

Tries to do more trouble making stuff like pranks with you if you're up for it!

He's gonna bring this up like years into marriage in the future, that's how awesome he thinks it was.

(sorry this was late and quite short!)